The open-air space is dimly lit and cosy. In the near distance, a yellow lamp lights up the Rig Master, surrounded by silhouetted power boxes, amplifiers and mixers. People, entranced by the deep bass rumbling through their chests, fill every other space.
A Sir Henry remixes a reggae classic with Salma on the microphone, bridging the gap between selector and crowd. A knot of cables snakes across the ground to speakers, stacked 10 feet high. The large sound vibrates across Westlands, Nairobi, rapping incessantly on neighbouring windows.