Why we need more women-only nightlife

There is nothing I love more than spending a night out dancing with my friends. What I would love even more is if that night out could be simple and carefree. Instead, I’m forced to be hyper-vigilant, watching my and my friends’ drinks and fighting off men who take any and every opportunity to grope and forcefully dance with us. 

Nightlife has never been a safe space for women. Historically, women have been expected to stay home at night and take care of their families, or, in the case of young women like me, be “good girls.” Nightclubs, therefore, are not designed for women or with their needs in mind. In fact, they usually center men’s pleasure and entertainment. Take, for example, when clubs offer women free entry to events. It may seem like this is designed to help women, but really it’s a device to get more women in the door so that men, paying customers, have more women to “choose” from. This creates the expectation that a woman should always be ready and willing to dance with, or do anything else with, the men in those spaces. 

Nightclubs are also unfriendly to women in their very design: They are often dimly lit and crowded, creating an ideal environment for sexual harassment and drink-spiking. For this reason, my female friends and I often ask male friends to accompany us to clubs — their presence deters other men from preying on us. For example, the last time I went to a nightclub, a man kept trying to touch me, but I brushed his hands off and insisted that he stop. He got aggressive with me and only stopped when my male friend intervened.

When women are assaulted or harassed in nightclubs, there is often no recourse for them. Take a recent case in Abuja, Nigeria’s capital. In May, policemen raided nightclubs, bars, and lounges in the city and arrested over 100 women, charging them with “prostitution” without any evidence. Some even said they arrested women just for dressing in a manner they deemed provocative. Later, a number of these women alleged that they were raped by policemen, who later denied the allegations. So far, no action has been taken against these policemen. 

These spaces are even more unsafe for queer women, who are often attacked for rejecting men’s advances or daring to express their sexuality in such a public space. This type of victim-blaming ultimately places the onus on women to protect themselves by being vigilant, dressing in a “non-suggestive” manner, and not accepting drinks from men.

For these reasons, I am excited about the growing number of women-only night events, like Strictly Silk in Nairobi and Wine and Whine in Lagos. These are spaces where women can enjoy nightlife without the imminent fear of sexual harassment from men. In fact, both parties have all-women event crews; everyone from the DJs to the security team are women. These spaces center women’s entertainment. From the music played to the vendors exhibiting at the party, everything is tailored to and for women’s fun. These parties also provide safe and inlusive spaces for queer women and Muslim women, who often avoid nightclubs because they are religiously prohibited from mingling freely with men. Lastly, both parties donate proceeds to different women’s causes. For instance, proceeds from Wine and Whine’s upcoming event will go to a female-focused charity, while proceeds from Strictly Silk’s first party went to supporting the health care costs of popular Kenyan media personality Jahmby Koikai.

Yet, these parties have not been received positively by all. For instance, when the Wine and Whine team announced their upcoming party, a number of men replied on social media, asking why women would pay to go see other women, reinforcing the idea that women only go to nightclubs to see and entertain men. Similarly, the Strictly Silk team had to answer to accusations of their party being one that “promoted lesbianism.” Dr Njoki Ngumi, one of the event’s organizers, responded to this in an interview with a leading daily newspaper saying, “We are deliberately queer-affirming and queer-celebrating, but people would imagine that this is an exclusive queer event. There are events that are exclusively queer but this is not that kind of party. We welcome all people, including nonbinary people."

Of course women-only parties do not directly address the problem at the root of what makes nightlife unsafe for women: men’s entitlement to women’s bodies. Yet it also should not be women’s sole responsibility to keep trying to teach men to treat them with respect and sacrificing having fun until they finally learn. These parties are a chance for us to carve out safe spaces for ourselves, escape our violent realities, and let down our hair without constantly looking over our shoulders. Ultimately, until men start respecting women’s bodies, women-only parties are here to stay.