Tech Founders After Dark: The Hidden Cost of Lagos Nightlife

Whoever said nerds don’t party missed the mark by a wide margin, those eye-glasses wearing turtle ninjas are the Hugh Hefners of nightlife.

A few nights ago, I found myself at a club called Zaza, one of those Lagos hotspots tucked discreetly behind some bougie walls.

From the outside, it’s unassuming, almost like a hole in the wall. But step inside, and you’re immediately transported to a world bubbling over with champagne, strobe lights, and the kind of grog-fueled revelry that puts a dent in wallets and morals alike.?

Now, let me be clear, I didn’t get in because I belong in that crowd. Far from it. I was an add-on, a +1 riding on the unbridled pockets of a more affluent friend who lives like his trust fund will never run dry (spoiler: he doesn’t even have one). It was around 2:30 a.m., and the place was packed, a sea of humanity swaying under the fluorescent haze.?

But here’s the thing: this wasn’t your regular Lagos club crowd of pop stars striking poses and haughty street boys with Cuban chains. Nope. These were the nerds, the builders, the start-up founders; decked out in shirts that were casually swanky, fitted pants that screamed effortless money, and sneakers that could probably bankroll a semester at a private university. ?        

The scene piques the feel of a tech conference melded with?Lagos nightlife—tables cluttered with escorts and tequila shots so overpriced they deserve their own Series A funding, all while bathed in flickering blue lights instead of the glow of laptops and PowerPoint slides. ?

I peeped the menu, most drinks on there were within the fray of a local government annual allotment, and the less pricey ones would most likely add up to the CDA’s annual allotment.?

And the audacity? They’ll still ask if you want to "top up oh."?

When you see hot news and bulletins about start-up founders binging accrued funds from investors, don’t be too quick to blame them—blame the Lagos nightlife.

But don’t get me wrong—this isn’t to say every Lagos founder is guilty. There are those who hustle hard, stay disciplined, and avoid the champagne traps. But for every one of those, there’s another sipping on overpriced cognac, surrounded by hangers-on, acting like their Series A funding was a personal bonus.?

In the end, the blame isn’t just on the founders; it’s on the culture. Lagos is a city that rewards opulence and punishes modesty. You can’t just build a good product; you’ve got to look like you’re winning, even if it means losing in the long run.

Ultimately, start-ups don’t just fail because of bad business models or mismanagement; they often crumble under the weight of perception. Lagos is a city where appearances matter more than substance, where founders are pushed to spend to keep up the illusion of success.

But illusions don’t pay back investors, and champagne bottles don’t build scalable businesses. The real question isn’t whether Lagos nights will sleep—they won’t. It’s whether founders can learn to resist their pull and focus on building companies that outlive the nightlife buzz.