Friday Night Lights

One of the most surreal days of my life to date. A busyish day at the office, followed by meeting friends Paul, Ellie, Ruth and Liam at Amahoro stadium to investigate the possibility of going to see the free concert tonight - a concert that happened to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the RPF, but our curiosity about the event and atmosphere overcame our qualms about the propagandic side of things.

After a tasty dinner we returned to find the stadium full to capacity with a disappointed crowd of several hundred out front. Somehow we ended up at the front of a queue going nowhere; then, drawn by rumours of being allowed in elsewhere, the crowd started running in cirles like mad. We wandered to another entrance and blagged our way in, where we were greeted by literally tens of thousands of people in the stands and on the pitch. Paul and Liam went to find beer and came back pickpocketed. Acts included J Polly and the mighty Nigerians of PSquare, but the highlights came with dance-offs, dance demos and lessons with local youngsters in the crowd. Surrealism abound when President K arrived midway through and the entire crowd shifted in his direction and went ballistic. Then the music continued. And continued. As we tried to leave a little early to avoid the crush, we realised that while the President stays, no one can leave (soldiers and police are very insistent on this). Eventually we managed to blag our way out, and walked home.

On paper, a terrible night: late for the show, couldn't get in, stuff stolen, music disappointing, held against our will by Presidential protocols. In truth: a truly surreal epic that will live long in the memory. Particularly interesting to see the devotion to the President, and the quite subversive and low-key level of indoctrination present in this free, youth-focused event. Glad we went!

Photo is of the crowd and floodlights from just in front of the stage. The sheer volume of people was unreal, and the day lasted so long that some kids just lay asleep on the grass.