An hour is not just an hour, it is a vessel full of perfumes, sounds, plans and atmospheres—Marcel Proust, In Search Of Lost Time 

Nocturna was more than just a party. It was unique, the very first of its kind. An EDM rave in Calabar? Everyone who had daydreamed of the electronic scenes in Europe lunged at the announcement.

Calabar was to have its very own rave. 

***

Under the scorching sun, Calabar breathes, moving and shifting to nowhere in sight, strictly for movement’s sake. How easy it is to forget while in motion. Several days have passed since then. 

There are times when I rest my eyes, or see someone greet me on the street, and Nocturna mysteriously appears, overlapping the world around me. Sometimes, it creeps up in flashing lights or within the chords of loud music. On rare occasions, it blooms when skin contacts skin, and I am on the dance floor once again. 

Now that I look back on the event, I experience the pleasure Marcel Proust must've felt when he wrote In Search Of Lost Time, tracing the currents of his life back to the beginning. The joy of re-experience, to savor a moment vicariously through oneself. 

For many who attended, Nocturna occurred on the night of June 8th, 2025. For those who were more intimate, it truly took flight when thought became clothed in action, and Kufreabasi Eyo, its director, gathered a team to help bring the dream to life. It was more than the moment. Nocturna was the sum total of everything that culminated that night. 

The Night Itself 

On the drive to the location, the fear (and I think I speak for many people as well) that amapiano and afrobeats would be played at the rave lingered strongly in the air. Even when Nocturna had assured us it wouldn't, it was still difficult to believe. You see, we were raised in a country where lies were sold to us daily. But they kept to their word. 

My friends strolled into the venue, a large house in Akai Effa, and met the place already set up. Punctuality wasn't dead after all. We greeted our friends, old and new, and made a tour of the location. For me, it was a return to a home I had lived in the previous year, only that it was different. Art always had the quality of defamiliarizing the ordinary. It offered a new perspective, a new way of seeing and experiencing. With Nocturna as its chrysalis, my former residence had been transformed. 

Nocturna’s large banner stood in the lobby. Strobing colors flashed around the living room-turned-dance floor. Electronic music played gently in the background as we waited for more guests to arrive. Movies played from projectors scattered around the house. Coils of light wound round the mirror and stairs. The poker table sat in the smoke room as people lounged in chairs and sofas, enjoying their highs. No matter where you were, you could hear the music trickle in through the walls.

Then, the people started flocking in droves, and the rave truly began. At first, inhibitions swam high, and the dance floor was mostly empty. Everyone remained huddled in groups, but they could only do that for so long. As someone who, by convention, never danced, there was a pull in the air that drew me in. 

The event featured three beautiful DJs, each with a unique style, who drove the rave to newer heights of ecstasy with every song. 

***

Cold Sound began the night. His electrifying setlist featured a diverse range of EDM tracks from across the globe. One by one, we all found ourselves surrounding him, our bodies leaping into the air, slowly converging, as the beat dropped. Beyond the main dance floor, another space further within rocked to the music. First, David Cronenberg’s Naked Lunch, shot from a projector, played on the wall. Then David Lynch’s Blue Velvet followed. Dancing, laughter, passion, the vibes remained the same. 

The parties from The Great Gatsby come to mind whenever I think of the guest list. We had artists, writers, aesthetes, gamblers, thinkers, eccentrics, all in one space. There were painters, photographers, food vendors, and a bartender. Nocturna had it all. Some of them I knew, others I wish I did, but all of us, searching for something different here. Perhaps, it was reprieve, sex, music, or love. Whatever it was, I could say that Nocturna offered what we needed the most: a protest. Within its walls, we could rebel and express ourselves freely against the backdrop of Nigeria itself. We could enjoy once more. Elisa Gabbert wrote, “It’s a form of resistance, to refuse to have pleasure taken away from you.” 

I thought about Prospero that night. 

It was midnight, and we were all dancing, jumping up and down as the music reverberated through everything that was us, transforming us. DJ Venomm had taken over, and the veil Remmick from Coogler’s Sinners had fought so hard for had been pierced. For a moment, everything that was not us was outside, and I could see what Prospero—from Edgar Allan Poe’s The Red Death—saw. The world was other to us, and we were safe in our castle. Unlike Prospero, however, we knew the Red Death, in the form of sunrise, a busy week, the violence of livelihood, was inevitable. That ignorance was a luxury too costly to afford. That awareness, I would say, is what elevated the experience.

The rave continued, broken only by slight technical issues or changes to the DJs. Although several people later left, the energy refused to ebb. DJ Mimi took the stage, and the dance floor surged. One of my friends had even joked that the DJ threatened to bring the whole place down. At this point, I was reclining on a couch and deep in conversation with some beautiful new friends about feminism until the sun came up. 

Time, including the present, is born in retrospect. It is through memory, through its carvings in texts and in our being, that we fend off our disappearance. Nocturna has etched itself into our minds, and I don't think I'll ever find myself forgetting that night. It'll come back, perhaps distorted, mutilated, or transfigured. But it'll always return. 

Nocturna ended on a successful note. On that night, before the sun rose, the moon danced.

***

Editor's Note: Read the behind the scenes piece by Kuffy Eyo here