If I had known I would end up being traumatised over a party I was invited to, an exclusive party for that matter, I would have stayed home that weekend.
I was minding my business at the office when this babe who I had been eyeing, asked me what I would be doing for the weekend. I told her I would just be doing my laundry and bingeing on some shows on Netflix.
She replied, “booorrriiiinnnggg.”
Now, this babe is one of the hot girls in the office; she schooled abroad and lived abroad before relocating back to Nigeria; she belonged to a clique in the office where they do parapo.
The rest of us call them “been to,” behind their backs, meaning, they had been abroad.
Anyway, she was also kind of friendly and had been giving me sign but I didn’t want trouble with these butter girls, so I mostly pretended not to get her meanings. But that Friday, when she asked what I would be doing, I told myself to let go, if she wanted to have a good time with me, I told myself to go for it.
So I told her, “What do you have in mind?”
“House party, you wanna come?”
I nodded, “yes!”
I had been hearing about house parties. They were exclusive parties that only a few were invited to. There were codes, time, and guests were often asked to bring stuff like drinks, cakes, cookies…yes, you heard me, cookies laced with weed. I had heard stories, sex…booze…I mean, these things happen a lot around here in Lagos.
I had never been invited to one before, so I was kind of happy I had finally “arrived” to get into the inner circle of these “been to” group.
She told me she would send me the invite and that I should not share with anyone; she said a code would be attached to the invite. Meaning, it wasn’t the kind of party to “bring along a friend.”
I said, “ok.”
In my mind, I was like, what is the big deal about these so called house parties sef?
A few rich kids, food, booze, a few weed…so what? But I knew there could be more.
Saturday afternoon, I got a WhatsApp message to the venue of the party; I was told to bring 3 bottles of wine; there was no particular dress code but I figured, smart casual. I wore a pair of jeans and Tshirt and a jacket…you can’t go wrong with this. The jacket was one of my favorite possessions, sent to me from America.
I got the three bottles of wine in my neighbourhood.
Time for the party was 7pm, there was no, till…, you get, as in 7pm till 9pm? 10pm? Anyway, laslas, I figured I would Uber back home.
I got to the venue, somewhere at Lekki, I can’t tell you the exact place because if you are publishing the story, chances are that a few who are in the know will read and…ehen, so you see. Let’s keep that info between us.
It was in an estate, you know, those security, gated estates where people generally minded their own businesses.
At the door of the house; there was a buzzer; I gave them my code and I was let in. Inside was a duplex, there were…maybe like 14 or 16 people already inside when I got there, guys, babes…DJ was playing soft music, there were finger foods, no Jollof rice or swallow or…just suya, chincin, cookies, funny looking finger foods… and plenty of drinks, all kinds of exotic drinks on the table at the centre of the living room. I thanked God I had loaded up on heavy semo and egusi soup before leaving my house.
But I took cookies…I had heard about these cookies, they looked like hobnobs.
Anyway, I found my colleague and two others from our office and clung to them even though I was encouraged to mingle. There were few seats, it wasn’t the kind of party they expected you to sit, just mingle with people and there was a backyard where people went to smoke… the smoke there was thick.
Shisha, igbo, fat cigars…guys and babes were puffing away.
Now, the first thing I noted was, this party was all young people…you know, there were no old people there. The girls…as usual wore skimpy clothes, guys were mostly in shorts…I looked over dressed!
So, as the evening progressed, one of two more people came, I saw a few go upstairs, you know, in twos, threes…I thought ‘aha, it will happen!’ The smoke had crept into the living room and it seemed, even those of us who didn’t smoke were getting high!
The babe who invited me came over to me with red eyes…obviously high because I saw her puffing smoke earlier. She asked me if I wanted to look at the house with her…
I laughed, I told myself…”it is happening.”
She pulled me to go along with her and we headed upstairs…
Hummn
There were five rooms; all open, all had people naked or half naked…
Ase, guys were just there having an orgy!
As in in twos, threes…openly!
I stared, not shocked because by this time, the cookies were beginning to have their effect on me. I was just happy.
I knew what this whole show was about, it was no party, it was an excuse to have sex, get drunk and get high as kites!
Everything was just funny to me.
There was no space in fact for us to do anything in private…I mean, to have sex in private…at this time, I was high, too, yes, I had eaten one or two cookies, even though I didn’t smoke. I had put a few ice in my wine…and the ice was no ordinary ice…so basically, like the rest, I was not in my right senses.
We must have been having sex, I can’t fully recall but one or two other guys came to join us…yes, we all had sex with her…in fact…it obviously was a thing. Something they were used to because, when I managed to look around, there were multiple people having sex with one another…it was an orgy all round!
Multiple guys on one babe or multiple babes on one guy… suddenly, I saw two guys come through the door, they were dressed.
I saw one of them carrying a gun!
Something jolted me back to my senses!
Guns don’t belong here…are we being robbed!
You know, it’s funny how in the midst of all of what was going on, I immediately knew these guys were not part of the act going on around here.
Was I afraid?
No…I was just cool. In fact all of us were just cool…or at least acted cool.
They told us to get up and follow them downstairs; I wanted to pick my jacket that I had discarded earlier…but the other guy just picked up all our clothes and dropped them into a big Ghana must go bag he brought with him upstairs; we were matched downstairs…naked
Downstairs, everyone was naked!
They had rounded every other guest up and asked all of them to remove their clothes, wrist watches, phones, jewelry, wallets…they took everything!
Everything went into the big Ghana must go bag they brought along.
There were 13 of us naked in that house, four robbers, two held guns…who knew how many were outside?
The funny thing is, nobody tried to cover up their privates…we just stood there staring at them.
They then locked us up in the house and told us not to shout for help or they would come for us…they had our phones, our wallets, every personal items…
We couldn’t call for help, from who? It was in an estate where the houses were far apart. We had no phones, no means of contacting anyone outside the walls; plus, what if they were still lurking around to see if we would try to escape…naked.
By dawn, we were mostly sober as reality dawned on us. I can’t tell you how traumatic it was for me…for all of us, in fact. Total strangers, stripped naked, locked up!
I cursed the day that babe invited me for the party!
Anyway, since we couldn’t even gauge the time, we agreed they must have left…
You know, there’s a shame, that you feel in this kind of situation…being naked with several people you’ve never even met before and for those you’ve met before, like my colleagues…hummn, it was a horrifying experience.
Someone had removed one curtain and cut to strips for the ladies among us to cover themselves.
Well, in every group, there’s always a mad man.
One guy decided to scale the fence and get help…so we helped him climb the wall…he used a piece of curtain to cover himself…that’s how we escaped from that house that morning, which thankfully was a Sunday.
Help came…most of us were still naked as the day we were born…but thankfully, too, our clothes strewn along the road leading to the house; they were discovered by one of the security guards, though some of us didn’t find their shoes, some ladies’ shoes were stolen.
I was able to find my pair of jeans and tshirt, the jacket had been stolen.
I hitched a ride with one of the guests who came with a car, thankfully, his car was still outside as a few others, too. No cars were stolen, the car keys were thrown on the road, I guess to make escape hard for us.
When I eventually got home, I couldn’t even look myself in the mirror; and at work, it was a bit awkward between me, the babe who invited me and one other colleague; two had left before the robbers came.
s for my colleagues, I’m sure we will one day laugh over it.
For now, I will never attend any house party, in short, I will never attend any party for a loooong, looong, time!
(Series written and edited by Peju Akande and based on true stories)