I have watched a million TV series in this life, but few stick with me like the CBS-Special “Criminal Minds.” Apart from the quotable quotes at the beginnings and endings of each episode, my favourite parts were the gathering of FBI agents to name the perpetrator “unspecified subject” and use behavioural profiling to conjure a profile of the unsub. Watching that series was a lesson in deductive reasoning for me; and relying on nothing but the beer brands in Nigeria and the particular one you take, here’s a profile of Nigerian beer drinkers.
THIS LIST IS NOT ABSOLUTE>>>>
They are doing this one in Omi-Asoro near Ilesa in Osun state. Few things get more Yoruba than that. People that drink Trophy are likely to have multisyllabic, jaw-breaking, chronically Yoruba names like Ola-di-pu-po. TROPHY belongs to the lower spectrum of the pricing prism of beer in Nigeria, yet it cannot be concretely used as an indicator of someone’s class because of its sheer ubiquity in Yoruba lands.
Sartorially, you want to be on the lookout for university/polytechnic students with starched, old, palm-oil stained shirts and penciled trousers; all the way to corpers in khakis and people who earn N60,000 or less monthly. A beer for all and sundry. A beer for witty people who haven’t quite arrived just yet.
You people that like to point out that WWE is fake; who hurt you as kids? Like, you think we don’t have sense too? Well, before I became like this, the only Goldberg I used to know was the big, bald, burly, belligerent bastard that speared Brock Lesnar and made me cry…
These days, Goldberg to my knowledge, is also a green bottle of beer that looks bigger than its 60cl on first inspection. Due to the phantom discrepancy of its apparent size and its actual size, this beer is heavily favoured by short people. Unlike Trophy, this one has not been tribalized as it transcends the western part of Nigeria, but just like Trophy, Goldberg is also an indicator of your social standing. People who are adept at judging books by their covers will know the bank balances of Goldberg lovers. Look for young, vertically-challenged men between 26 and 38.
A drink for carpenters in their mid-forties that still barb 90’s style Punk. Okay, I’ll level with you if you think that’s extreme, but come on. It’s Gulder! When we were kids, we used to gather crown-corks of different drinks and play that thing in the middle of radio cassettes. That’s when I knew Gulder; because theirs was unique in that it had these beautiful, enchanting floral patterns. Sadly, I think that’s the highlight of Gulder.
Gulder is now, sadly, only taken by its aficionados: quiet people with balding head, large body frames and people who have started wearing half-shoe; the most distinctive indicator of the onset of midlife crisis. They have more money than TROPHY drinkers, but two kids are in a Federal University while the other three are in secondary school. They are the embodiment of loyalty. People who still drink Gulder are loyal to their spouses; not necessarily out of love, but their recovery time after a round of sex is increasing exponentially. So the decision to stay loyal to their wives is made for them. Praise the good Lord.
Shine-Shine bobo! Star is the Peak Milk of beer in Nigeria – evergreen, ever present. The mono-syllabic name makes it is easy to order from the barman. It is harsh on the tongue and is taken by people who have been drinking for the best part of a decade (at least) and will drink until they die; in a manner of speaking. I saw a photo of my father from his OAU days in the 70s and saw boys (now grandfathers) holding retro STAR bottles. A bottle of Maltina was in my father’s hand. Hmmm. I don’t know how the apple has fallen so far from the tree.
The price is sortofkindof costly; and so, STAR can be used to indicate your bank balance. This is not a drink for poor people. Personality-wise, STAR is the unlikely interception in the Venn diagram of society where Afro-wearing, PhD-wielding, (big,big) grammar-speaking intellectuals meet with cherubic, YOLO-peddling, avuncular and experienced blue-collared people.
A drink for University professors. A drink for Transport Union leaders. A drink for welders, contractors, lawyers and mothers of the sugary sort.
If you’ve heard of the phrase; “a man’s man,” this one is the drinker’s beer. 33 can be assessed all over Nigeria and is especially popular up North where it is fondly called Uku-Uku. We’re all driven by different motives, but 33 drinkers have always struck me as people who just want the world to see that they’re different – until it becomes an unshakable habit. This demographic tuck in their shirts in beer parlours to show other drinkers they are gainfully employed.
33 is a beer for stubborn people with many children; within and without marriage, and people who refuse to pencil their boot-cut pants while wearing unbespoke Hazan shoes under psychedelic show-me-the-money Ankara-print shirts. A beer for intelligent people plagued with a lack of style, but they don’t care.
Ompa!! A beer whose name is very symbolic in the South-Eastern part of Nigeria for obvious reasons. For the stretch of time that I lived there, it was the overbearing choice of beer at the very many functions. Mahn!! There was always an excuse to drink over there, and HERO is usually ordered by the crate/carton.
HERO is basically the TROPHY of the east and were I to hazard a guess, this is a beer for a person who is unapologetically Igbo and/or has very strong Igbo-affiliations. HERO-drinkers are very industrious, generally talkative and have light complexions. Mostly.
Look for someone bearded who has a thick, yellow spouse; many pretty daughters and a bank account that defies an overly simple wardrobe. I said someone bearded, I didn’t say ‘man’ ah
These are newschool drinks for people with ojukokoro. A tasty mix of mild-spirit, fruits and herbs made for people who haven’t exactly figured out the direction their lives are going. The eyes never lie, so you want to look for someone who has a look of permanent bewilderment and wide-eyed naivete on their faces; usually someone between the ages of 20 to 29.
Predictably, if you don’t catch them red-handed in beer parlours, you will see them placing orders for akpu at Mama Chioma’s shop where they are asking for the mixture of egusi and draw soup before going back for more bitterleaf. You’ll know them when you see them.
They are serial cheaters who hover between immoral and illegal things. They gamble, they fornicate and they are smokers too. You’ll also notice they are adept at multitasking and exude the calmness of philosophers.
Just like HERO, LIFE is another Igbo-centric beer. Unlike HERO, this one is much lighter on the tongue and milder on the throat. A poor man’s Heineken; which brings us nicely to our next one:
This is an exotic beer first of all, for rich people and for people who have come a long way from their humble beginnings but won’t readily admit they’re now, by societal standards, rich. Smooth and velvety on the tongue and gentle on the throat. There is misconception that Heineken won’t affect you like the other beers because of its *richpeople outlook, but that’s all it is: something poor people tell themselves before they get rich and can afford Heineken on a consistent basis. A beer for classy folks. No, a classy beer for folks.
A beer for fucking rich bastards.
Expensive. Sometimes when the ageist drum is wheeled out and being beaten to the sounds of the popular song; “The world has now spoilt: Children of nowadays,” I just remember that most of our lineages, from the ground up have been entirely useless. I mean, Arthur Guinness started this thing in 1759 and you want to tell me nonsense.
Well, that’s not the point. Unlike regular pints of beer, stout stays in your system and doesn’t drive you to pee after every other bottle. If you cannot hold your liquor, Guinness is not for you – because it could leave you wobbly-legged and all.
Guiness is black. Its drinkers are cool, calm and quiet. A drink for people that people respect. A drink for people that people admire. A drink for Danladi, Bassey and Jumoke. Guinness is the drink of proper slay queens that drink beer: successful, bad-ass women seemingly unaffected by the many constrictions society tries to foist on them. Classy. Look for people who look good without (seemingly) trying.
I’ve always imagined this is the beer thieves drink before a robbery…
This drink ba? There is a common notion that if you’ve been drinking for a long, long time, your body will develop a higher threshold for inebriation. It might, but not for LEGEND. The men that drink this drink, I suspect, have very long penii – and don’t even ask me why as it’s just a hunch. Not a drink for weak people. So, look for stoic, intelligent 24 to 65 year-olds.
LEGEND is a drink for people God has ordained to come to this life to be unserious, yet prosperous. The stuff of legend. A properly bitter drink for people who look like they finished their journeys to self-discovery at birth. A drink for wicked people.
A drink Guiness created to rival the relatively cheap beers and save the criminally poor with bad tempers from those cheap liver-damaging hot drinks produced in Ogun state.
**stop locking my shirt
Have you ever wondered why those men that *don’t date big, beautiful women do it? I have. I think it is because they find them intimidating and don’t know if they’ll do a decent job. I feel Satzenbrau drinkers are wired this way too. They find the enormity of the usual 600ml of regular beer intimidating, so they opt for the substantially smaller bottles of Satz.
Or they’re just broke. These things are never clear.
Curated by @Captaincue. If you enjoyed this, follow him on Twitter. Follow us too