When Karaoke Turns Chaos: A Night of Suya, Scandal, and Sweet Humiliation

It Started with Free Suya…
All I wanted was a quiet night at home. Netflix queued up, Indomie bubbling—it was going to be the perfect date with myself. Then came the call.

“Free suya,” my friend said, like a spell. “And karaoke.”

The suya was the hook; the karaoke, the trap. But peer pressure and free food are undefeated combos, so I found myself at the loudest karaoke bar in Lagos, praying no one noticed me in my quiet corner.

When Friends Aren’t Your Friends
Somewhere between chewing suya and sipping overpriced Zobo, the DJ announced: “Next up, we have… Chinedu!”

Wait. My name is Chinedu.

Before I could protest, my “friends” dragged me to the stage like I’d been nominated for an AMVCA. “It’s your time to shine!” they screamed. My legs wobbled. The mic was in my hand.

Chaos Picks a Song
The screen flashed my nightmare: I Will Always Love You. Whitney Houston herself would cringe.

I tried to protest. “I don’t know this song!”
“Sing!” someone shouted. The crowd cheered louder.

I started off slow, voice shaking like The Neps light during a storm. The first verse? Manageable. Then came the chorus.

“AND IIIIIIIIIIIIII—”
Let me tell you: there’s nothing quite like the sound of your voice betraying you in public. I hit a note so flat, the DJ stopped to check if his speakers were faulty.

The Fall from Grace
In a desperate bid to save face, I added dance moves. Big mistake.

The stage lights blinded me as I spun around, and my feet slipped on some spilled palm wine. I fell—gracefully, if you ask me—but the crowd thought otherwise.

Someone screamed, “Chai! He’s down!” A voice from the back yelled, “Is he alright?” My friends? Laughing so hard they were choking on suya.

The Aftermath
I stood up, dusted myself off, and finished the song with whatever dignity I had left. The crowd applauded—half out of pity, half because they hadn’t laughed this hard all year.

On the ride home, my friends couldn’t stop reenacting my fall. “That spin though!” they said between wheezes.

Lessons Learned
I swore off karaoke forever that night. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: humiliation makes the best memories—and even better stories.

Waittttttttt:
“Think you’re a karaoke star? Wait till the stage and your shoes conspire against you. For more laugh-out-loud fails, check out The ‘Oops!’ Chronicles!”