Seven nights in Florida

A fortnight or so ago, Florida 2000 saw it fit to award musicians whose careers began there in the turn of the millenium, and before. Now the PULSE team, in a seven night party marathon, was there, one crew member at a time, to bring you this nocturnal tale of a week in the night-life of Kenya’s most (in)famous night-spot.

"Saturday night, I feel the air is getting hot.

Like you, baby.

I’ll make you mine, you know I’ll take you to the top.

I’ll drive you crazy."

This Whigfield party song is what always plays in my head whenever I climb those red fray carpets that lead into F2, as Florida 2000 is popularly known, and memories of all the ‘chips fungas’ that could be gotten from the take-away to the left of the famous staircase.

At the reception area, the bouncers are much friendlier and professional and, of course, affirmative action is best seen here.

Guys pay much more than the ladies – defining ladies loosely here – to get into this ‘House of Funk, fun and Sin.’

Inside, the Florida Twangas scene is as it has always been – the langas, the house of mirrors (with nocturnal narcissistic nymphos grooving to their reflections), great groove music that I violently move to, good professional service, slippery floor, leathery couches that are most comfortable, the great cabaret show at midnight – and so on till dawn.

The cab overcharges me, but outside F2 at these unholy hours, everything is expensive – from the sweets and condoms outside, sold by confectionaries on cartons, to the after-party afterwards, for those devils who would dare, where angels fear to tread.

"Saturday night, dance, I like the way you move, pretty baby.

It’s party time n not one minute we can lose, be ma bai-be ..."

Sunday Jamming

Just like Marcia Griffiths in the song A Beer and A Girl off the Big Stage Riddim, two O’clock on the dot I hit the jam session.

Almost two decades later, it’s still arguably the biggest youth event in the city.

The place is absolutely jam-packed, and this, when schools are in session.

On my way in, I bump into Gilly, a bouncer who has been at the club since the year 2000, but recently left for greener pastures.

He still comes on Sundays when he is free, to enjoy the auld lang syne (good old days).

I’m welcomed by a wave of sweat stench. On the decks are DJs Front, Double J and Obra busy churning out the latest riddims. Everyone is on the dance floor, and those who are single find dancing partners in their images on the mirror pillars around the aluminium-covered dance floor.

I squeeze my way to the counter for a drink. The waiters’ T-shirts are screaming loudly: "Jam Session: Non-alcoholic party".

Neither alcohol nor cigarettes are allowed during jam session. "These days it’s a music only party with a slot for talent shows," Gilly explains.

There is also no catching rubbz as well, which explains why he leaves me to go and help sort out beef between teenage lovers busted going a little too far.

Then comes the famed Showtime. Unlike old days, it’s not as hyper!

According to Front, the youngsters of nowadays react to music very fast.

"They like it fresh, such that they can enjoy a song on one session, and two weeks later, no one will be dancing to it," he says, giving the example that at the moment no one is crazy about Bendover — it’ s stale news.

There’s also no hood representation as was the case a while back, when you would find fans from Huruma, or Umoja or wherever, ruling a certain section of the club and supporting their own during Showtime.

As I leave, Dohty Family’s reggae night begins. Everyone is moving to the current dance style ruling the roost— the Summer Dance.

Rasta-coloured flags are all over the walls. At 11pm the place is full. In Nairobi, partying never ends.

Since 2003, Kriss Darling and his team made up of DJ Moh, Patty Ranks, DJ Ken, MC Daddy Konya and MC Jah Watchman have made the night legendary with patrons religiously flocking the night week after week.

Monday blues

As business comes to a close and streets fall empty on the busy Moi Avenue, on Monday night, party time comes alive at Florida 2000. This is not your regular party day.

Not after a weekend of whirlwind concerts and clubbing nightlife, so synonymous with Nairobi, East Africa’s entertainment hub. But then again, this is Florida.

Tuesday: Kikwetu music days

Clubbing on Tuesday is never a good idea. So I’m pretty skeptical. I want to know is how F2 will be different from other clubs.

Well, special attention has been paid to lighting, and every room sparkles as light reflects off the gold and clear glass bottles stacked in the counter.

At 11 O’clock the party goes into overdrive, full of swing, and it is also wild! For those who are into local and house music, this is definitely Nirvana.

Wednesday: Total request days

On Wednesday, I decide to sample Pango, the club within F2, where you have to pay as you get in. It was worth the money and saving the best part for the last has never been so rewarding.

With a tranquil setting and pretty, voluptuous and scantily dressed pole dancers, no man will ever feel ill at ease.

Fitting the Garden of Eden theme, the sexy dancers came out fully dressed, but set the club on fire as they slowly and provocatively shed the clothes off.

They dance to all genres of music showcasing dance moves straight out from hula-hoop, pole dancing and feather dancing to lap dances. I could see a group of geriatric tourists go bonkers as a couple of near nude girls join their table for some ‘personalised dancing session’.

The look in one mzungu’s faces was to die for and he let loose his wallet, throwing a drink to everyone in the house.

She kept going on and on until I gave her a few hundreds before she slithered off, going to bother another man with her tales of woe.

Still on my mind was one tiny lithe beautiful girl, with all the right curves in the right places who did some major damage to the dance pole. She was truly talented and gifted. She made strip dancing seem like an art in its own right.

Entranced On A Thursday

My partiality for ‘F-Twanga’, ‘F-Twerere’, ‘F-Twice’ or simply ‘F-2’ is understandable. Tonight Davie Odongo, who is fast morphing into my evil twin, joins me as the wingman I need for what is going to be a long night of duty.

We explain our intentions and are ushered in. Cool as a cucumber, Mr Katana welcomes us and explains the different theme nights.

At Pango, the crowd is different, more exclusive and even the prices are higher. The centre of attention is definitely the pole-dancers who give lap-dances to willing-and paying-gentry.

At the centre of the room is this middle-aged man watching a sprightly lass go up and down the pole with the stern seriousness of a stockbroker observing the share prices rise and fall.

Within no time, it is 2am and we go back to the main Club. The music is good though the crowd is thinner than it was when we came in.

Friday Night

This is the ultimate party night in Florida 2000 for anyone who fancies techno-funk fusion. As we walk into the illuminated and half lit disco hall, we are greeted by the sounds of Michael Jackson’s Thriller hit to which scores of revellers have jammed the floor to dance.

Time after time, the resident deejay takes to the microphone and hypes the thrilled crowd, throwing the nonstop party into frenzy.

In an interlude, when the clock ticks midnight, the crowd is asked off the dance floor, paving way for a residential dance troupe whose well choreographed show lasts half an hour.

As the crowd ogles at the semi dressed energetic dancers, and their well co-ordinated sexy moves, a floor up at the famous VIP section, commonly known as F3, the thrill moves a notch higher as luscious bikini clad strippers charm party people with seduction lap dances.

Rumba Night

At Florida 2000, there’s a special Rumba Night drawing in crowds. Here there are both young and old people dressed to kill. When the clock strikes 6pm, the much-awaited night begins at one of the longest serving and popular nightclub with flashy unique disco lights.

Flame Entertainment’s deejay Mato Sibuor picks up his headphones and churns out Rumba songs.

"If you thought Rumba music was cut for people from rural areas then forget it," says Maureen Gicheru, a college student.

At around midnight – Rumba session comes to an end as normal disco night resumes.