And we went to a book reading...

The first book reading I went to was such a heart-warming experience that I glowed. I grinned ear to ear and was incredibly proud. Nothing could contain my elation.

That was the book reading of Kemi’s Journal by Miss Abidemi Sanusi – one of my many, many sisters. But Bidemi is also one of my favorite sisters because she is just so cheeky! Nobody in the world dares to persistently tease and cajole me as she does – and with such zeal.

That was in Accra some three-odd years ago and so wonderful was the experience that I have since attended a number of book readings. The most recent was that of Sefi Atta at the British Council here in Lagos, where she read from Swallow, her latest book.

Book reading a la Lagos
So I am in Abuja some weeks back and a dear, dear friend calls from Lagos to say that they are organizing a book reading for one of our most celebrated contemporary writers at the weekend. ‘Wonderful’ was my response. Absolutely perfect, in fact. I was planning to be in Lagos that weekend anyway, so why not?

Twenty four hours to the event I inquire where the event is holding - British Council? Terra Kulture? And what time. The event was to hold in a private residence, and would be in the evening. Hmm, very unusual, I thought. But I kind of liked the idea of a private, more intimate book reading in someone’s garden. This is Nigeria, what am I saying, this is Lagos, after all.

So we arrive. 8pm. Valet parking service, hor d’oeuvres, champagne and we hear the book reading. No juice, no water, no wine, just champagne. Quintessentially Lagos.

I marveled. But I understood. And I smiled. A knowing smile.

In a city where day in, day out you give a lot. In a city where day in, day out you are at your wits end. In a city where day in, day out your patience is tried and tested. In a city where day in, day out your average daily spend is your average weekly spend in any European city. In a city where …..

So I understood the need to spruce up the daily grind. To indulge a little, and to live a little. To forget that you had to leave the premises before a certain hour of the night less armed robbers are at your trail. To forget that the daily bumpy and traffic ridden ride on our roads makes your bone creak and your neck stiff. To forget…

A few days later a couple of us teased our host over lunch and hailed the light indulgence, the departure from the norm of the café style format of books readings ‘It’s good to unwind every so often’ was the quite, deliberate response.

And, yes, I said, ‘it is good’