H
F
F
REALITY TV AFRICA H
RANDOM
MUSINGS OF AN
ENTERTAINMENT
JUNKIE
S
With Myke Pam
tanding quietly by the
entrance of a popular
hangout on the island,
with a half burnt stick
of my favorite cigarette
hanging loosely from
my lips while waiting for
my fellow sojourners
and hardcore night
crawlers, Chappy and
Dozzy to join me on our
quest to seek out the latest fun-spot in town.
I wasn’t actually eavesdropping, but I scooped the
info when I overheard another legendary night
crawler whisper the name and location of this ‘best
thingy around’ as he called it, to a very beautiful
girl sitting across my table inside the club earlier.
What really caught my attention was how he
conspiratorially informed her that this new joint is
where a beautiful girl like her should hang out as the
place is supposed to be the favorite haunt of rich
guys.
Trust me to seek out this hip rendezvous of
happening guys. So, in order not to be left out of
any serious groove happening in my neighborhood,
I signaled to my friends to follow me outside. So
there I was, waiting for my men this glorious Friday
night, with flash bulbs bouncing off my brain as I
contemplated the fun filled shindig that was about
to go down in this new joint, when this sleek wonder
on wheels rolled into the parking space right in front
of me, narrowly missing my legs. Chagrined and
feeling somewhat violated, I resolved to confront
whoever was behind those wheels.
Before the occupants could disembark from the
vehicle, my two friends strolled out of the club with
their respective ‘handbags’ in tow. They saw me
and walked over to where I was standing, hailing
my name repeatedly. When I failed to reciprocate in
kind, Chappy who was still 50% sober unlike Dozzy,
who was about 70% off his marks asked; “what’s
popping bro?”
30 HF Magazine Edition 1, Volume 1.
Seeing my friends around, in spite of their noticeable
wobbly steps occasioned by the enormous quantity
of alcohol in their systems emboldened me, by
boosting my confidence and adding some tons of
invincible muscles to my otherwise lean biceps and
torsos. Fuelled on by this newfound intensified vigor,
I was too charged up to answer my friends; and so,
four pairs of eyes belonging to my two friends and
their female consorts followed my own, staring
unflinchingly at the now immobile car.
Obviously, the guys in the car must have seen the
spectacle unfolding in front of the car, and in my
mind’s eye were also getting ready for an inevitable
showdown. So primed was I for the impending
showdown that when the four doors of the car flung
open, seemingly at the same time, I made ready to
fly off my saddle to draw the first blood a la John
Rambo in First Blood.
And then, I heard the familiar rancorous high pitched
laughter followed by a specialized funkified version
of my name, a corruption of my name which only
three people were licensed to invoke, one of them
dead and the other two domiciled abroad. That was
when it dawned on me. Coming straight at me with
outstretched arms and a beaming smile, dressed in
what seemed like dazzling million dollar attire was
my bossom friend, one of Africa’s most decorated
and loved sports men ever!
Walking behind him was another friend of mine,
a popular rapper and two stunningly beautiful
mulatto chicks who completed this awesomely
intimidating ensemble. Needless to say, the anger
fled as the impending brouhaha was shelved for a
frolicking night out, because after the pleasantries
and back slapping, I took everybody including my
drunken friends down to the aforementioned new
joint for a swell time. While popping some vintage
wines and generally having a good time, my wobbly
friend Dozzy started hustling one of the mulatto
babes who seemed unruffled by his antics.
brooding over his perceived rejection, a group of
girls and boys recognized Anuk, the accomplished
sporting hero and dashed in droves to mob him or
something. Before you could say Anuk Nkwonwa,
about 6 of the fans were lying on the floor with the
2 mulatto girls standing over them. It happened so
fast that none of us apart from the sports star could
properly explain what just transpired.
After they were revived, we hurriedly left the place.
My friend later confided in us that the girls are highly
trained body guards with specialized skills imported
from Israel! That piece of info and the action film
we witnessed firsthand effectively sobered my guy
Dozzy, who pointedly made it a point of GWG