From the moment I stepped into Suudu Lagos in Ikoyi on Sunday night, it felt less like an event venue and more like a movie set: dim lights, chats, and that slow-building buzz that says something’s about to happen.
I walked in a few minutes before 8 p.m. The space looked like an old living room: couches pulled close, guests talking softly, some grabbing cocktails from the bar and others helping themselves to a plate of small chops, easy beats playing in the background. It didn’t feel like your typical album launch. It felt like walking into a house party from old Nollywood.
Raise a Glass to Liquid and Music Therapy
The cocktails flowing from a corner bar were each named after some songs from the new album.
-
“MAGIK” mixed Hennessy VS with ginger ale and lime.
-
“YOU GET ME” had cranberry and pineapple, and
-
“NORMALLY” came with bitters and lime
They all felt smooth, strong, and just a little sweet, like the music itself.
As the house filled up, the chatter noise increased. Then, without warning, the first track began. No stage lights. No long boring intros. Just warm, layered, and familiar sound.
Phones lit up instantly. A few guests mouthed lyrics they’d already memorised from the three released singles on the album. Somewhere between songs, BOJ and Taves appeared, sharing the moment with Tec and Ghost to the crowd’s pleasure.
Instead of long speeches or explanations, Tec and Ghost drifted through the crowd, laughing with friends, greeting producers, and letting the music do the talking.
Later, they told me the concept was intentional.
“Afrika Magik is about nostalgia,” one of them said. “We wanted it to feel like a memory of the old Nollywood movies and a house party we can’t forget.”
That direction flowed through everything, from the smoky visuals to the guest list packed with old friends and new faces. It was the alte scene’s version of a family reunion.
The Room Where It Happened
By 10 p.m., Suudu Lagos was packed tight. The air was thick with cigarette and weed smoke, and conversations spilt onto the front and backyard.
Saw popular faces like Taves, Fave and Korty, BOJ vibed with guests in the backyard, and people kept recording snaps to post as the album went live at midnight.
It wasn’t fancy or staged. The listening party felt real and relaxed. It was a night built around sound, not spectacle.
For Show Dem Camp, Afrika Magik feels like a turning point. From Clone Wars to Palmwine Music, they’ve moved effortlessly through eras. These sharp lyricists have turned cultural custodians. Now, they’re reflecting, unbothered, grounded.
They aren’t chasing hits; they’re enjoying the music and that night in Ikoyi showed it. Not through fireworks or a stage, but through a house full of people vibing to songs that felt like home.
