The night is more beautiful, you live better.
I do not yawn until 5 o'clock.

And the city catches its breath and seems to be asleep, the darkness transforms it and changes its shape, and everything is quieter, everything is closer. There is no traffic and there is no jams, at least not the bad one, the one that stresses.

People of the night always the same.
We all know each other as in a village, always the same faces month after month.
The day changes laws and governments, and the summers pass and the winters pass. People of the night always survive, hidden in the shadows.

People of the night do odd jobs. Some are born today and end tomorrow. Bartenders, drug dealers, whores and newsagents. Cops, disguised people looking for trouble, club owners, strippers, truckers, night watchers, thieves and journalists. Bakers and confectioners, photo models.

At night the girls all look beautiful, and sometimes you get one, at the disco. You see her again in the morning and she looks like a witch to you. The night plays its game to make everything seem a little bit nicer.

Talking in a car in front of a door at half past four. Have breakfast with hot croissants and latte. When the sun comes up I say goodnight.

I read the nairaland before others, preview of all the good and bad facts.

Words flow slower at night, but it is much easier to talk to people, learn there stories, each original, knowing that nobody in the world is normal. Everyone will have something they can teach you, very different people of every color.

I like the night, I see many sunrises and very few mornings. The night, she adopted me and gave me a job.

I like it a lot, in fact I love it. My name is Osita I do the deejay. I never go to sleep before six AM.