The most irritating trend in the current club scene is the wannabe DJ with a funny name. Still learning the ropes, his dreadlocks just sprouting, this DJ has a thin catalogue of hits and keeps repeating My woman, My Everything by Patoranking and Wande Coal all night. With so many songs in the world, why play only a handful of songs?


My colleague, Sheila Kimani, in a few words, explained this current club phenomenon thus.

“Walk into a club past midnight with a power bank and a few cables in your hands and you are instantly a king.”

You see, with selfies and Snapchat posts of how people are turning up filling social media, the smartphones are wont to ‘die’.

“Most chics start to take selfies the moment they enter a club, and by midnight, some of the phones are already dead,” she noted.

As a result, any guy with a power bank is seen as the saviour, especially if he has enough USB cables. Instead of car keys conspicuously occupying tables, just have a power bank next to your drink.


They are comfortably having their beverages or soda water until you offer to buy them a drink. Then their tastes change and they ask the waiter for the most expensive drink from the bar. They then proceed to show you how professional they are in the art of taking this high-end drink.

This is the group that causes many men to go to the washroom to make a frantic call to the always-sober friend at home that never lacks money in his M-Pesa.


This is the metrosexual man. He dresses nicely, his swag is off the charts and he has the height to match. He is very comfortable in a group of five hot ladies, and he does not buy anything. The ladies fish for money from their purses every time they want to buy something, while he looks very comfortable not spending anything.

He suggestively dances with all the females, and is well-known to the waiters. Once in a while, he goes missing, only to come back with a little information about one guy or another. He is the link-man between thirsty men and the hot ladies.


This is the meanest group.

They are the girls that will eye-ball you every time you pass close to them, like they are on the lookout for the thief in you. They even have the audacity to move their handbags away from the corner you sit at.

The meanness ends the moment the shisha guy, sweating and in a very tight, red t-shirt labelled ‘Shisha’, delivers the product you asked for 30 minutes ago. The ladies now smile at you or move their table closer. Sooner rather than later, they will become your best of friends, their powdered faces close to yours, as they laugh to all your dry jokes and you all enjoy the Sh500 flavoured delicacy.