LFCDave

Alte songs will start with the most heavenly beats that you’ve ever heard, then the artiste will start singing in the trashiest flow known to man.

House parties are always fun but pray you don't attend a chaotic one. I remember attending one at Shelter Afrique. Bob said it was just a chill Friday night at his cousin's place. Just vibes, no noise. I got there around 10. Big mistake. The compound was already packed. Someone had parked directly in front of the gate, so new arrivals were squeezing in sideways like they were entering a secret club. Inside, the living room looked like a music video—colored lights, bodies everywhere, and a table that was supposed to hold drinks now holding someone’s wig, two phones, and a half-eaten suya. There were three DJs. Imagine. One guy came with a laptop and controller, serious face, acting like he had a residency. Another was just connecting his phone shouting “I have better playlist!” The third didn’t even own the speaker but kept unplugging people to play Asake on repeat. Every time the beat dropped, someone else would cut it. It became a battle of egos, not music. Then came the food drama. Someone announced, “Small chops don land!” and that was the end of order. People who had been “just chilling” suddenly developed Olympic-level speed. Plates disappeared. A guy shouted, “Who took the last spring roll?!” like it was a personal betrayal. Meanwhile, the host’s auntie—who no one knew was even in the house—walked in, looked at the madness, and quietly carried the remaining meat pie tray into her room and locked the door. But the real madness started outside. Around midnight, the generator went off. Total darkness. For like 3 seconds, everywhere was silent. Then: “WHO OFF LIGHT?!” “Hold your phone o!” “My bag! My bag!!” Phone torches came on like a concert. In that confusion, two people tripped over the same plastic chair, one guy mistakenly hugged another guy thinking it was his girlfriend, and someone started shouting “THIEF!” for absolutely no confirmed reason. Light came back and then rain started Not small rain. Proper Uyo rain that doesn’t warn you. People rushed inside, turning the already packed living room into pure heat and humidity. Windows fogged up. The floor became slippery. Someone fell mid-dance and just stayed there laughing like life had no meaning anymore. Meanwhile, upstairs—because of course there was an upstairs—another party was happening. Apparently, some guys decided the downstairs was “too crowded” and carried a speaker up. But they didn’t tell anyone. So you’d hear two completely different songs playing at once—Afrobeats downstairs, old-school hip-hop upstairs—and people moving between floors like they were choosing dimensions. Then came the final chaos: THE LANDLORD. At around 2am, a man in wrapper and singlet appeared at the gate with the angriest face known to mankind. No knocking. He just entered. “WHOSE HOUSE IS THIS?!” Silence. Even the DJ froze. Bob, the so-called host, was nowhere to be found. People started looking at each other like it was a group project nobody prepared for. One guy tried to explain, “Sir, we are just—” but the landlord raised his hand like a movie villain. “Off everything. NOW.” Music cut. Lights off. Generator killed. Party over. As I finally found my way out around 3am, stepping over cups and someone still asleep on a chair, I saw Bob at the gate… eating suya like nothing happened. I just looked at him. He smiled and said, “Guy, hope you enjoyed?” I did not even answer the werey. I just entered my car and left

I am from Akwa Ibom State. A state that has an international stadium, a power plant, Ibom deep seaport, a brewery, an international airport, a train service for locomotion and also free education for all children in govt primary schools! You suppose dey Abia State not abroad😒

lmaooo my homeboy dey check babes linkedin before moving to them😂

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