December 2022 was the beginning of what I knew would be another uneventful christmas, I was ready to do the same thing I did every year; complain and then cry myself to sleep wishing that something would change. 

I went to see my friends, we laughed at our uneventful year while bonding over cans of black bullet and enough food to kill us. When everyone went silent and on their phones, as real friends do, I found my way to instagram. 

You see, I had rediscovered The Cavemen only two weeks earlier and they had become an earworm for me all over again. I blasted them so regularly to the point where my neighbors even started singing along whenever they heard it, so it wasn't weird for me to find a hobby in regularly stalking their instagram page. Plus, they weren't bad to look at either. There was nothing new on the page, but then I happened to refresh it and a new post popped up containing all their tour dates and cities in the month of december. 

My heart stopped and then started up again. Was this a sign? I sat up and clicked the link, waiting with bated breath to see where they were going. Ibadan, Lagos, Abuja, Port Harcourt? They were coming to Port Harcourt! 

I know what you're probably thinking: why was it so special? Well, it might as well have been a Christmas miracle to me, considering most of the artistes that had shows at that time only went to certain places (read Lagos and Abuja) as if they were the only populous cities in the entire country. But the cavemen were better than that, of course they were.

I asked my friends if they wanted to come with me and they refused, saying it was not their scene. Those were just two people and I'm nothing if not persistent. I dedicated the rest of my day to asking all my other friends whether they wanted to accompany me. I would get them tickets of course. Everyone had something or the other they were doing at the time and my heart broke all over again. My favorite band were to be in town the day after Christmas and I had no one to go with. What was my luck?

Dejected and mildly annoyed, I took it as a sign that I wasn't supposed to go anyway and let the dream simmer in my chest until it died. As a weird little punishment, I decided not to listen to their music until the date for the show passed. It would be easier that way.

Except it wasn't. It started to seem like the entire city of Port Harcourt discovered them too because everywhere I went, their music played. A random bar with my mother, the guy selling speakers on the side of the road, everyone was playing the cavemen! Adaugo haunted me through the streets of Port Harcourt.

On the 16th, I decided that I would not just sit back and let myself miss this concert. What was the worst that could happen if I went alone? I didn't allow myself to answer that question and immediately went to purchase two tickets. Next: finding a friend to force to go with me.

Again, I had asked everyone I was close with so I extended the grace to acquaintances, but it seemed like everyone had their own plans. Instead of allowing myself to regret the obviously foolish decision to buy two tickets, I meticulously began to plan for the event. It was hitting a lot of milestones in my young life and I wasn't about to let my lack of courage mess that up. 

I laid out six outfit options and washed my makeup brushes that day. By the 20th, I was down to two, and by Christmas day, I knew exactly what I was wearing, down to the socks. My powerbank had been charging for days on end and my entire family was sick of hearing The Cavemen on repeat.

The 26th of December met in me happy spirits. I was up at the buttcrack of dawn to make sure all my chores and that of my siblings were done, to avoid my very Nigerian mother messing up whatever plans I had. The concert was to start at 8pm so I started getting ready by 4pm, taking a third shower and taking my time to make sure I was perfect for my first solo concert. My excitement distracting from the fact that I was going alone. 

Not until I was 5 minutes away from the venue by a few minutes past 7pm and my social anxiety kicked in. One thing I ask people never to doubt is my ability to go home so I toyed with the idea. Instead of acting on it, I made sure I had enough liquid courage inside me and my tiny handbag to get me through.

I got there just as the main acts came out for their soundcheck and when i say i was stunned. They looked so regular, A in what looked like regular house clothes and B shirtless as always. I could have stared at them while they played with their instruments like that for hours but it had to end and they had to get ready for their show. 

The concert was prompt and all the opening acts were wonderful, but I wanted to see more of the men I came for. By 9:00pm, the Cavemen got on stage and their very presence blew me away. They came in like they owned the entire arena and spoke to the crowd like we were longtime friends. Just engaging with them like that would have been enough for me at that point, but they decided to blow my mind for the nth time and opened with their song Beautiful Rain.

I know it seems like an elaborate experience for such a simple concert, but that day I learned that I could actually have fun all by myself, something I used to be staunchly against. I always believed that the best memories had to be shared but as I stood in a crowd of people that I had never met and would probably never see again and we all swayed and danced in unison, I knew that going by myself was the best thing I could have ever done. And in a way, it prepared me for the hailstorm that 2023 has been. 

But that’s a story for another day. 

Image from Pinterest.

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