The music was sweet, and the beer cold, and in the moment, I drowned. Watching droplets trickle down the surface of the glass, and as if in a game of relay, a bubble would rise to the surface just before reaching the coaster. It reminded me of the build-up before the show, tiny moments stacking until the night burst open.

“The short videos didn’t do justice to how good the band would be…” Marlon’s voice trailed in.

“They’re relatively cost-effective with a high engagement rate, not to mention their effectiveness in delivering the message succinctly in this fast-paced era. And the proof? The show’s sold out, and the brewery is emptying by the drumful,” Simaa grinned.

“Hayawi hayawi huwa, nasi tuliwapa vidonge kwa shorts and reels! How much they couldn’t wait for this to happen, with tickets sold out a week before the show,” she went on.

I looked from my drinks to a table, elated by self-satisfaction. Well, it must have felt nice to bask in success; despite not taking much to execute the project, the creativity of the production was honey over thunder!

And perfect for mobile viewing across multiple platforms, Marlon was playing the video on his phone, though the band ruled the acoustics, the video was interesting enough without sound.

“We teased and wrung their curiosity to a dry bone…” Marlon was saying, completely engrossed, “and then there's the monologue… I feel it in the water. I feel it in the earth. I smell it in the air. Much that once was is lost….”

“Oh, like Tolkien through the sands of time,” I mused.

“It worked well too with trends,” Simaa said to me, her nose in the air and her voice combative.

“True, my lady,” I admitted gently. The lights were blinding, and I wasn’t ready to throw a cold blast into the merry.

Hera hera hera

Hera hera hera

Hera hera hera

Hera hera hera

The band went.