The Garki Highlife Experience
(Abuja Edition)
By Innocent Chukwu

My trip to Abuja, the Federal Capital Territory (FCT), to attend a friend's wedding penultimate weekend, somehow brought to memory an exciting experience during one of The Source's editorial meetings last year.

At that meeting, my editor, Victor Ogene, had cause to ask everyone present his or her favourite kind of music. Whereas some favoured the contemporary Pop R & B (Rhythm and Blues) or Jaimacian-inspired roots reggae, a few settled for the old school. But when it got to my turn, Ogene was, somehow, surprised that I joined the old school train, and he exclaimed "Hm, new wine in an old bottle".

Indeed, my ardent love for the old school kind of music, particularly the highlife brand, much as I could remember, has its origin from my mother way back in the early 1980s when I was still with my parents as a child in the village.

Then, my father used to have this four-battery-powered Philips brand of radio set with which we often tuned to "IBS" (Imo Broadcasting Service) station, to listen to programmes in vernacular. But apart from such programmes, the IBS used to have series of programmes dedicated solely to music, highlife music.

The aristes whose music were often played included the likes of Rex Jim Lawson, Ebenezer Obey, Joe Nez, Peacocks International, Chief Stephen Osita Osadebe, Oliver de' Coque, Oriental Brothers International band, just to mention a few. Interestingly, my mother was and still is an ardent lover of highlife and I still remember how I stayed close to her in those days each time she reclined upon a wooden chair to savour those golden moments.

That was how old school highlife brand of music became my favourite. Even at adulthood, I still realise that inspite of my religious inclination, I am still addicted to old school highlife, so passionately that wherever I hear pieces from the afore-mentioned maestros being played, I seldom resist the urge to stop and listen.

So while at Abuja on Sunday, May 21 after the wedding, I felt so bored cuddling my solitude in my hotel room, that as evening approached, my mind began to work out the best 'spot' to go and unwind since I intended flying back to Lagos the following morning.

Without hesitation, "we" settled for the Black Excellence Resort, a popular relaxation spot located off Ahmadu Bello Way, Garki, Abuja where copy artistes and other entertainers often display their talents at recreating the works of the highlife greats of old.

Though I had once been to Black Excellence, I never had the time to listen to the artistes because I was with an older person whose desire to retire for that night overrode any interest of mine. So, the night of May 21 afforded me the opportunity to settle down at the resort to relax and really enjoy myself.

Sitting close to where I could have a full view of the performing artistes, I ordered a bottle of "Gordon Spark" which I sipped at intervals as the audience, including some white men and women watched enthusiastically while the performers were doing their gigs.

Many acrobatic dance shows were displayed and they received the applause of the sophisticated audience; then the musicians began to render soft tunes in Jazz, R & B and Pop. I noticed, however, that those pieces could not do much to arouse the desire of the audence to really unwind, though many nodded lamely and clapped at the end of each rendition.

Suddenly, a voice from the background echoed, "Give us highlife! We want highlife- old school". Immediately I heard the request, my face brightened up. That was exactly the moment I was waiting for. And indeed it came. As the highlife artistes mounted the rostrum, there was a roar of approval from the audience.

The first song the artistes rendered was the ageless Love Adaure, made popular by the Rivers State-born highlife exponent, the late Rex Lawson. Coincidentally, Adaure has always being my most favourite piece. I noticed almost immediately that my body had become irresistible to the rhythm so much so that I really needed to shake my waist to the song. But I couldn't. I was ashamed to start dancing while others remained seated.

However, a relief of sorts came when like a drama, one of white men, obviously sick and tired of sitting down and shaking his head to the rhythm of the music, sprang to his feet and began to dance menacingly towards the vocalist. He was joined by two ladies sitting side by side with him.

Within the twinkle of an eye, there was "no parking on the dance floor" as virtually every one was shaking his waist, head, hand or moving his feet, all in the name of dance. It was quite difficult to spot me dancing because I was buried in the crowd, yet I was satisfied.

By the time the artistes went into other popular tracks, not just by Rex Lawson but other highlife icons, the crowd had begun to disperse such that when I checked my wristwatch, it was nearly midnight. Reluctantly, I dragged myself to the bus stop where I boarded a cab to my hotel room and enjoyed what turned out to be a blissful sleep.