Communiqué 78: Late-night raves are powering the next phase of Lagos’s creative economy

As living costs soar and disposable incomes shrink, many young Nigerians are reevaluating their leisure activities, opting for affordable, community-led experiences, such as raves.

Key points

Invest in community-led experiences: Young Lagosians are choosing affordable, community-driven gatherings like raves, art shows, and workshops instead of expensive clubs and bars. Investors and entrepreneurs should focus on first building loyal communities before launching a product around it.

Build strong operational structures: Entrepreneurs especially in the events space should treat events like startup launches: invest in experienced production teams, detailed logistics, and real-time problem-solving. Investors can back companies that help standardise these operational structures like Tix Africa.

Scale without killing the culture: There’s global potential in Lagos’s rave scene, but growing too fast can ruin its underground spirit. Entrepreneurs who want to expand should balance intimate, authentic experiences with bigger shows and tours. Investors can help by backing record labels, artist development, and partnerships that take Afrohouse and electronic acts abroad while also protecting the community feel at home.

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1. Nightlife goes indie

Among young Nigerians, there’s an enduring need to socialize outside of work. In Lagos, weekend plans once revolved around restaurants, clubs, and bars. However, as living costs soar and disposable incomes shrink, many are rethinking their leisure activities, turning instead to affordable, community-led experiences such as workshops, art shows, and raves.

According to Fadekemi Aburu, Head of Insights at Stears, as cited in the PiggyVest Savings Report 2024, the declining earning power of Nigerians is tied to the labor market, where 60% of workers are in the informal sector, leaving the remaining 40% with limited earnings. That same report notes only 8% of Nigerians spend money on clubs monthly, second to last among 12 major spending categories.

Casual outings have become a luxury. “Even though I earn more money than I did in 2019, my salary’s value isn’t what it used to be. Drinks that cost 5,000 naira now go for 15,000 naira. The last time I went to a club, my friends and I got hit with a 400,000 naira bill. I haven’t been back since,” Kamnelechukwu Obasi, founder of co-working and community space Joydragger House, told Communiqué.

In this reality, millennials and Gen Z Lagosians are leaning on each other to create new ways to unwind. “Lately, I’ve been drawn to the vibe we had as teenagers, showing up at a friend’s place and hanging out for the price of whatever’s in your pantry. Since I couldn’t find that anymore, I decided to create it,” Obasi says. Her Surulere living room is now a multipurpose space where people work, make art, and watch movies for a fee. Others are doing the same. Culture journalist Nelson CJ hosts AThirdSpace, weekly gatherings centered around art, food, and literature, offering Lagosians a break from their work-home routine.

Even established art spaces have adapted, meeting the emotional and financial needs of their audiences. Galleries like 16by16, the G.A.S. Foundation, and Amah Studio now host workshops and sunset parties. There's a noticeable shift in how the city’s most active inhabitants spend their leisure time. At the heart of this shift, electronic dance music—encompassing house, techno, and drum and bass—has become the soundtrack for alternative Lagos, with raves at its core.

“I go to raves for the community. The quality of people keeps me coming back,” says Deola Adebiyi, digital marketing lead at Mavin Records and a longtime raver. “One time, at a rave, a guy was dancing too close, and some women came over to make sure I was safe. I don’t see that level of care anywhere else.” For many, raving is akin to religion: loyalty to the music, freedom to be yourself, and safety to express without judgment. “They push back against the idea that connection has to cost money. I love the informality. I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not.” Obasi told Communiqué

2. Nothing comes easy

Lagos is home to several raves, with new ones springing up every other day. “When I started, there was maybe one rave a month. Now, every weekend, there’s at least one; sometimes there’s a beach rave, a club rave, and a warehouse rave all in the same weekend,” Adebiyi says. Some raves are genre-specific, letting people choose by taste.

New-age heavyweights like Group Therapy and Monochroma now attract over a thousand attendees per edition, filling massive venues with high-energy sound. “Group Therapy excites me because it’s a leveler. Celebrities show up in this to experience without feeling like public figures. That tells me we’re doing something right,” says Aderinsola Ogala, DJ (Aniko) and Group Therapy’s founder.

Delivering a stellar rave is far from simple. It relies on a skill that understands the culture and the technical complexity. The Lagos rave scene attracts talent from individuals who build and scale complex projects, including tech founders, engineers, bankers-turned-DJs, marketers, and media editors, who often juggle rave production alongside their day jobs. “Our core roles include a production lead who drives the look, feel, and technical execution of the entire event, a project manager who manages the logistics, and a marketing lead who handles rollout, social media, community, and ticket sales. We also work with an artist liaison who ensures DJs and performers have a smooth journey from arrival to stage and a content team of photographers, videographers, and editors who document the magic,” Dimeji, DJ (B3AM), co-curator and operations lead at Activity Music Festival, told Communiqué.

Preparation often begins months in advance to help save costs, but this is not enough. “We have at least 20 people on the team, and we start planning three months ahead. Because it happens in remote areas, costs can hit 10 million naira. Even with great turnout, breaking even is tough,” says Tigran Letov, DJ (Tigran) and co-founder of the 2-day Èkólectro Festival.

Beyond the financial costs pre-event, mishaps are prone to happen during the event. Some problems include power failure, DJ gear malfunctions, delayed vendor arrivals, unplanned rain, or even someone trying to force entry with fake tickets.

Ejiro O., a DJ known as Sons of Ubuntu and cofounder of Sweat It Out, one of Lagos’ oldest raves, recalls an instance where they lost music for 45 minutes mid-show. There’s also the threat of harassment from area boys, especially for queer ravers or those dressed expressively. Security isn’t just about stopping theft or fights but also about ensuring everyone feels free to dance and express themselves without fear.

David Olubaji, a software engineer turned DJ (Blak Dave) and cofounder of Monochroma, a high-concept bimonthly rave series, likens running the event to launching a startup. “About 40–60% of our budget goes to human resources. Each edition is treated like a product launch. I’m big on data; when do people arrive, which DJ set gets the best crowd spike? We watch user experience closely because it shapes how energy flows throughout the night.”

The tension for the growing rave scene is balancing scale with the soul of the underground. Tigran of Èkólectro describes the underground vibe as “music first, freedom, raw rebellion, non-aesthetic values, and accessibility for all.” For its first two years, Èkólectro was free to attend. Sweat It Out, too, started as an entry-free rave to build a community around house music.

“Keeping Sweat It Out underground benefits the people who love the music,” says Ebi Tomce, a DJ known as Dr Love, an investment banker and co-founder of Sweat It Out. “We’re not curating events for people to just show up; we want them to enjoy the music and to bask in the feeling because we are curating an artistic experience where people meet themselves.”

“Seeing table culture at raves is quite disheartening because it takes away from the experience of a rave at its core, which is to dance without care for the markings of the outside world, like class.” Deola says, “As someone who works in marketing and media, I understand they are trying to make money, especially as these events are cost-intensive, but at the same time, I wish we didn’t have tables with minimal spend caps, which I believe are representative of where the scene is at the moment. However, I think there’s space for the underground raves, which focus more on building community and creating safe spaces for marginalized groups. The more commercialized spaces focus on scaling exponentially.”

At their core, raves are not intended to generate revenue. Historically, they were built to engineer a community of self expression, respect and inclusion “We keep Sweat It Out bootstrapped so we can be deliberate about certain things. For instance, we use studios or warehouses because that’s the typical design of a rave. It’s also why the numbers abound when you take a blank slate of a location and build a utopia where people can’t tell when it’s day or nighttime until they step out,” Ejiro of Sweat It Out told Communiqué.

3. Chasing scale

While Sweat It Out and Èkólectro prioritize intimacy and artistic rebellion, others like ASC3NSION, Group Therapy, and Element House have begun to lean into large-format experiences with regional and global reach.“Group Therapy isn’t underground anymore; it’s still true to the music. As long as the music and the sense of freedom always come first, everything else can grow around that.” Aniko says

Dimeji has ambitious plans for the Activity Music Festival, aiming to curate electronic music experiences across Africa and beyond. Its record label, Activity Records, is the vehicle for those ambitions. “ Activity Records will be the launchpad for the next wave of African electronic artists. We want rave culture seen as a bold, vibrant expression of African creativity, not niche or imported.”

Black Dave shares a similar vision: “Monochroma’s goal is to tour cities like Lagos, Nairobi, Joburg, London, and Ibiza to become the leading Afrohouse rave brand from West Africa.” For Group Therapy, this global push is already unfolding. Its recently announced world tour includes stops in London, Amsterdam, Johannesburg, and Nairobi.

As the scene expands and begins to crossover globally, the goal is for the local movement to keep growing alongside it. Adebiyi believes the quality of raves will continue to improve. “We’ve gone from raving only in warehouses to various venues: beaches, clubs, rooftops. The community is growing, and it’s no longer just underground. One sign of how far it’s come is seeing people complain online that a rave didn’t play Afrobeats, which means folks who usually attend regular events are now showing up at raves. We’re also bringing in international DJs, which is great for the scene. I want people to fly into Lagos to attend raves and catch international acts.”

But ambition does not come cheap. “Scaling raves requires huge finsancial commitments” Ebi says. “A local lineup alone costs 7 to 10 million naira. Add international DJs, and it’s 20 million naira. We’re lucky to get discounts from relationships built over time with service providers who respect what we do.” For Sweat It Out, the payoff isn’t particularly financial but cultural. Each rave is a tree, like an artistic experience, even though it might be challenging to justify the numbers on paper.

Despite the challenges, ravers are optimistic. “I see Lagos hosting even bigger electronic music festivals that span days and nights. I see raves expanding beyond Lagos, Abuja, and Port Harcourt to places like Enugu, Ilorin, and Taraba. I believe this scene is also important to the growth of the Nigerian music industry. I go to raves now and see artists like Ladipoe and Wurld vibing to the music, and I can already hear the influence of Afrobeat.” Deola believes that house music has the power to unite us as Africans. “South Africans and Nigerians are often at odds, but SA DJs are flown in almost every month in the rave scene. More collaborations are happening, and our local DJs are working with international ones. Imagine someone like Aniko doing a track with Skrillex. That’s the growth I see coming in the next five years.”

The Lagos rave scene isn’t perfect, but like any creative micro-industry, it thrives on passion, community, and self-expression. Time may test its shape, but the goal stays the same: to be a safe place to dance, dream, and just be.