D, the son would love Miliki. Unfortunately, it’ll be many, many years before he’s granted entry into this members-only club.
The formal objective of MILIKI is the provision of facilities and amenities of a private lounge, run on commercial principles, for the purpose of social intercourse of persons connected with or interested in the Arts, Sciences, Design and Social Justice.
Relatedly, MILIKI intends to be a stimulus for new thinking and social re-engineering by offering a meeting point to discuss issues that shape our individual and collective progress, our national orientation and society. And by introducing artists, writers, musicians and other cultural figures to its’ member audience through the staging of curated events, MILIKI supports contemporary creativity and culture in Nigeria. Located in Victoria Island, Lagos, Nigeria, the lounge is open exclusively to ‘Patrons’ and their guests. If you would like to become a Patron of MILIKI, please complete a Patronage Application form (download below) and submit via email – hello@MILIKI.ng or deliver to address on form; Website
See, he likes orange light. The sort that’s warm and soothing against the grain of solid wood, deep browns, and dog-eared books, Nina gently singing deep throaty songs in the background. Though he would resist the sound, he would say it was ‘olden days’ and that he preferred modern. He doesn’t heart Justin Bieber, he’s sick and tired of me and my Adam Levine crush, he would probably go for xxx.
In our house, we have both yellow/orange lights and white and every single day, I turn on the white – in the dining room, living room, his room, mine, his sisters- he begs for the orange. Often, the white is bright, stark, not too bad for most of my photos, unlike the grainy orange. It’s pretty obvious why we make our choices.
But on that Tuesday afternoon, I saw through D’s eyes and in an instant, I fell in love with Miliki and orange light. Look, if I have to talk about the one thing that stirs my soul in an instant, no-words-needed, immediate sense, it has to be beauty. Of word, thought, deed, design, place, time, season, just beauty. Beauty in the way things are expressed, words are spoken, desires are shared, beauty in the landscape, on a plate, and by God on the walls.
We walked up steps from the glass-lit, white-walled ground floor into this stunning, wood-paneled 1st-floor haven. Walls lined with framed posters of Fela, from the London underground, Poetry by women, photographs of Nina, beautiful orange lamps all set in the most unobtrusive manner ever.
I had a nice enough tall drink – a mojito. I asked for the rum to be dialed back and the sweet upped and so my glass came with a sandy bottom of sugar which I stirred.
Friends sitting at the table had G & Ts
And others modeled, walked round, admired Velvet cushions and covers, throw pillows, the smooth wooden arms of comfy soft leather chairs.
And light bulbs with stunning filaments 🙂
Honestly, I left seriously considering signing up. And begging to take D in :). We’ll see.
