a rant about going to concerts in nairobi
Why do events in Nairobi have to start after the time listed on the poster? And yes, sure, African time and all that, but surely your event can’t begin more than an hour after the time listed. I’m not sure if it’s the adulting kicking in just a second too soon, or simply the discomfort of sitting in venues that were meant to be danced in. But, I’m getting impatient with this notion that comes with Nairobi events: they never start on time. Like why are you telling homies to show up at 6PM when you know well and good that you will have performances from 7:30?
If I said my concern comes from an overwhelming value for punctuality, that would be a lie. I mostly cannot stand that, in the hour(s) before an event actually starts, I have to socialize. And as a neurodivergent introvert, random socializing in this city is probably the worst scenario you could put me in. I don’t know the rules of the situation and what’s more, I don’t want to learn other people’s socializing norms. I would love to sit quietly, listening to whatever DJ is playing, until finally the event begins. But, Nai ni who? By the time you’ve settled in for five minutes, you’ve already been shown where the drinks are like ten thousand times. If you’re cool, you’ve made a couple new best friends you will never speak to until the next event. It’s unnecessary on so many levels.
In Quavo’s Instagram tribute for Takeoff, he talks about how his nephew would function on “Takeoff Time.” Essentially, this understanding of time was guided by the intuitive understanding that Migos would arrive at their performances at the right time, whether it was the time listed on the poster or not. I appreciate the artist’s right to decide when they show up for their event. And I long for the audacity that would allow me to trust the love of my fans and the worth of my time such that I could simply arrive at my own events when I see fit. But, is there a form of communication we can create for the fans to understand when acts will really be on stage?
In the past couple of months, I’ve come to realize that I actually enjoy attending music events on my own, which is uniquely different from how I prefer to enjoy literary events. If I’m not showing up at one of my partner’s shows and chilling with his crew, I really do enjoy being in music spaces solo. It allows me to enjoy the music and performances without figuratively holding someone’s hand throughout the event or hearing their opinions about the show, and having those opinions muddy my own. There’s something special about being able to sit through a show and really just listen and soak in the goodness of what has been prepared for you. I don’t understand how folks who constantly walk around shows, saying hi to their friends, making new ones, actually get value for their ticket purchase.
Anyway, a unique challenge that comes with attending events alone, while in possession of this loudly feminine body, is that people tend to assume you need company? I don’t want company. Unless I’m doing the rounds at a literary hangout, I’m really not trying to meet anyone new at a concert. I mean, besides the fact that I’m happily married, my mind tells me that many people at concerts go there looking for Cinderella narratives where they meet Their Person, have a mindblowing night, and wake up in the morning without any of the repulsion that often accompanies waking up to another human who you don’t really know. I wouldn’t want company even if I was the most singular singleton in this cursed market.
I’m definitely thinking of attending an oontz oontz dunda, just to see how they do things on that side of the entertainment scene. I love dance music. And maybe you get too busy dancing to fall into one of those aimless conversations about what you do, whether you’re a student or working or…. Ugh. But, after this past weekend, I don’t think I’ll be showing up on time for a music event in Nairobi again. Maybe that’s what organizers want. They sure do act like it.
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