I have never really been the party type. Growing up, the idea of going to parties never excited me, especially the ones with loud music, shiny lights, and people dancing and throwing hands in the air like they were having the best day of their lives. It’s just not my thing. My siblings are also like this. Well, except my brother—he has always been different. Loud parties are just not my thing. I have always preferred my peace and quiet over all that noise. Unfortunately, here in my school, they don’t do that. Students prefer loud parties where they dance their sorrows out, get drunk, and have fun to the fullest. Since my first year in the university, I have always made it my habit to avoid those kinds of parties. I have always made it a habit to avoid parties in general, really. Trust me, training myself wasn’t a day job. It required consistent “training.” I have become an expert at coming up with excuses to not attend parties. “I’m not feeling too good.” “I can’t go because I need to charge my phone,” or my favorite “I have a test tomorrow.”
Eventually, my friends caught on. I was loading them with too many excuses that they realized what was going on; that indeed I was feeling well, I just didn't want to go to parties. So sometimes, they would come to my hostel and make sure they drag me, other times, they let me have my way. For this week’s Hive Naija prompt, we are asked to discuss the last time we attended a party. The last time I attended a party still lives rent-free in my head. Why? Because it was memorable. Unlike the other parties I have ever attended, this one was different. There was loud music, people flinging their hands in the air, the smell of smoky jollof rice and meat in the air, but all that didn’t matter because I was having my best time.
The last party I attended was two weeks ago. It was my faculty party for final-year students. Basically, the party was organized for final-year students across different departments in the faculty. There are five departments in my faculty, so we all came together to have fun and celebrate our final days in school. I couldn’t come up with any excuse not to attend. Plus, I actually wanted to attend this one. My department mates dressed in black, while students from other departments wore different colors. People’s outfits were really nice. Like, “Come on!!! Your outfit is so nice, flashy, and shiny! Your tailor deserves a medal.”
I got to the party an hour after it started. Even then, not so many people had arrived—there were many empty seats. The host was really experienced and entertaining. After about an hour, things started to get interesting. Interesting and intense. Out of nowhere, the host called me to dance. Not just me, he called a guy and lady out in every department. So, there were six guys and six ladies outside. My goodness! At that moment, I wished I had stayed at home. I wished I had superpowers to teleport or enter the ground or to just freeze everyone and run away. I don’t know where the energy came from, but I started dancing. I moved my body to the sound of the music. In that moment, I felt what people who enjoy dancing at parties usually feel. That was the highlight of the party.
I enjoyed myself to the fullest. And in the end, I concluded that maybe parties aren’t so bad.
All images in this post were taken by my class’ photographer: MiM Photography.
Thanks for reading.