A replica of Nigeria’s Edo Queen Mother Pendant Mask: Iyoba, created in the 16th Century, was the symbol of the 1977 Second World Black and African Festival of Arts and Culture (FESTAC) in Lagos, Nigeria. This file was donated to Wikimedia Commons as part of a project by the Metropolitan Museum of Art. (CC0 1.0) Editor’s note: First published on Yaba Left, this post is republished here with permission. Lagos has always been Nigeria’s cultural capital. Given its maritime location as well as being the seat of political power in both the colonial and post-colonial eras, it was only a matter of time for the city to grow into its true cosmopolitan potential and become a place where people, ideas, and culture constantly collide. Colonial accounts of pre-colonial musical forms are either sparse or glib. Narratives only become fluid at the instance of barter between western sailors and our ancestors, at the moment when musical instruments like guitars and horns became accessible to our communal sound and spirit. Our knowledge of root forms remains rudimentary because change is constant and these changes mostly predate the grasp of technology. Precursor musical forms like sakara, asiko, apala, and agidigbo are still with us today, handled by old and aging practitioners who often pass it down bloodlines. However, highlife and juju music have been widely studied and documented, because they reached the height of popularity at crucial times in post-colonial history, a time of unfettered optimism and because it was also within the grasp of relevant technology. The Campos quarter, in Nigeria's economic and cultural city of Lagos, was the home of freed saves who returned to Africa from Brazil, often with Portuguese names and a Christian religion. The area is now a lively, crowded, commercial part of town. Image by Carsten ten Brink, November 11, 2018, (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0). Lagos, in the late 1940s, heavy with colonial presence, was not unlike any European city where nightlife thrived. The consequence of the interaction of natives and whites was the adoption of the latter's culture. Nightclubs in Lagos were vibrant and rewarding for the different players of its ecosystem—musicians, bands, promoters, food vendors, and drug peddlers—that made it function. Bobby Benson (April 11, 1922 – May 14, 1983) was a Nigerian entertainer and musician. Image by Aymatth2 via Wikimedia Commons Numerous accounts remember Caban Bamboo, the nightclub owned by Bobby Benson, a vibrant cultural entrepreneur and impresario of his time. He, alongside his wife Cassandra, ran a theatre group that served as nocturnal entertainment. He also formed the Jazz Orchestra Band, which later became a springboard and offered tutelage to Nigeria's greatest highlife musicians. At the time, this band played classical ballroom dance, foxtrot, cha-cha, and swing for their elite clientele. They also did local numbers too. It was not until the 1950s that the wave of a new sound came by way of Ghana. There was the often-quoted West African tour embarked upon by E.T Mensah, a Ghanaian trumpeter, and his Tempos Band, which showed Nigerian musicians the possibilities of playing African-oriented rhythms with Western instruments. There are also accounts of Bobby Benson and his band traveling to Ghana to play shows. The origins of the name “highlife” from Ghana suggests that the music became accomplished in Ghana first. What is conclusive about this era was that as Nigeria inched towards independence, highlife music grew in popularity. Nightclubs and hotels typically had resident bands who played most nights of the week and Saturday nights. The last Fridays of the month were particularly big. Band musicians dressed dapperly in suits and provided music in popular venues in the city, including the Bobby Benson-owned Caban Bamboo, Gondola Bar (which still stands under a different name and ownership), and Ambassador Hotel both in Yaba owned by a Lebanese man. A lot of these locations and exotic nightlife venues are defunct, having become residential buildings or church auditoriums. Their cavernous halls used to be a place of dance, music, and sexual liaisons. Women were huge cheerleaders of highlife musicians and had valuable roles in that niche, especially to the musicians. Songs like Rex Lawson’s ‘Sawale’ rush to mind, a humorous dance tune that curated the colloquial term, ‘waka waka baby’ to define commercial sex workers at the time.