The drinks can set a stage — the rest is up to the people in the room.
In a Kampala bar on a Friday night, a gin brand attempted something quietly countercultural: persuading a generation raised on screens to put them down and talk to strangers. Gilbey's 'Made for Real Moments' campaign launched its Hangouts concept at Old Tymerz in Ntinda, weaving cocktails, nostalgic music, and hosted conversation into an argument that presence — unhurried, unperformed — is still worth seeking. It is a small wager on an old human need, placed in the middle of a city that, like most, is still working out what genuine connection looks like in a distracted age.
- A generation that built its social identity online is also the generation most likely to describe itself as lonely — and Gilbey's is betting that tension is a market opportunity worth taking seriously.
- Old Tymerz in Ntinda was transformed for one Friday night into a curated social experiment: two house cocktails, a DJ set spanning four decades, and a host nudging strangers toward the conversations they usually avoid.
- What began as light banter gradually opened into the harder topics — aging friendships, career pressure, and the role money plays in love — suggesting the format was working, at least on that room, on that night.
- The brand is now expected to roll the Hangouts format out across Uganda, testing whether a recurring in-bar social experience can become a fixture rather than a novelty.
On a Friday night in Ntinda, Old Tymerz bar became the launch site for Gilbey's Hangouts — the opening move in the gin brand's 'Made for Real Moments' campaign. The concept is deceptively simple: a curated venue, two approachable house cocktails built around orange and lime, music people already love, and enough structure to get strangers talking without making it feel like a workshop.
Media personality Ronnie McVex hosted, guiding the room through conversations that started light and gradually deepened. By the end of the evening, guests were weighing in on the shape of adult friendships, career anxiety, and money's complicated place in romantic relationships. One attendee's observation — that financial stability and genuine understanding are both necessary in a partnership, and neither erases the other — drew a response that suggested the room had found its footing.
The DJs held the atmosphere together with a playlist running from the 1980s through the early 2000s, a range that landed squarely for the millennial crowd. Familiar R&B and pop have a way of lowering defenses, and that seemed to be the deliberate function — music not as background noise but as social permission.
Gilbey's Brand Manager Raymond Karama was direct about the campaign's intent: to offer people a space free from the performance anxiety that shadows so much modern socializing. There is an honest tension at the heart of it — a brand using a marketing moment to advocate for something no brand can manufacture, which is genuine human presence. The drinks and the playlist can arrange the conditions; what happens next belongs to the people in the room.
The Ntinda event is the first in a planned series, with further Hangouts expected across Uganda as Gilbey's works to establish the format as a regular feature of the country's social calendar.
On a Friday night in Ntinda, one of Kampala's busier residential neighborhoods, a bar called Old Tymerz became the unlikely setting for something a gin brand was betting people actually want: a room full of strangers talking to each other without their phones doing most of the work.
Gilbey's, the gin label, chose the venue to launch what it's calling Gilbey's Hangouts — the opening event in its broader 'Made for Real Moments' campaign. The premise is straightforward enough: gather a crowd, serve well-made drinks, put on music people recognize, and let conversation do the rest. Whether that sounds like a marketing activation or just a good night out probably depends on how cynical you're feeling.
Guests arrived to a choice of two house cocktails — one built around orange, the other around lime — both designed to be approachable and easy to linger over. The drinks were a deliberate starting point, something to hold while the room warmed up and people found their footing with one another.
Media personality Ronnie McVex hosted the evening, steering the crowd through a series of open conversations that grew less cautious as the night went on. What began as light social banter eventually moved into territory that tends to surface when people are comfortable: the shape of friendships as you get older, the pressures of building a career, and the complicated role that money plays in romantic relationships. One woman in attendance offered a view that landed with the room — that financial stability matters in a partnership, but so does genuine understanding between two people, and neither cancels the other out.
The in-house DJs kept the atmosphere from tipping into anything too earnest. Their playlist drew from the 1980s, 1990s, and early 2000s, a range that hit squarely for the millennial crowd that made up most of the room. Old-school R&B and pop have a way of dissolving self-consciousness, and that seemed to be the point — music as social lubricant, familiar enough to spark a shared reaction across a table of people who'd only just met.
Raymond Karama, Gilbey's Brand Manager, spoke after the event and was candid about what the campaign is trying to do. He described Gilbey's Hangouts as a space where people can step back from the relentless pace of daily life and meet each other without the usual performance anxiety — no pressure to be impressive, no pretence, just drinks and music and whatever conversation emerges. The goal, as he framed it, is to make ordinary social outings feel like something worth remembering.
There's a real tension the campaign is working with, even if it doesn't name it directly. The same generation that grew up online and built its social life around curated digital identity is also the generation most vocal about feeling isolated and overscheduled. Gilbey's is threading that needle — using a brand moment to argue for the thing the brand can't actually provide, which is presence. The drinks and the playlist can set a stage, but the rest is up to the people in the room.
For now, the Ntinda debut appears to be the first in a planned series. Further Gilbey's Hangouts events are expected to roll out across Uganda as the campaign builds momentum, with the brand looking to establish the format as a recurring fixture in the country's social calendar rather than a one-off stunt.
Citas Notables
It's about making it easier for people to be present with each other and turn ordinary outings into real-life experiences.— Raymond Karama, Gilbey's Brand Manager
Financial stability matters in relationships, but so does understanding — and neither replaces the other.— A guest at the Old Tymerz event (paraphrased)
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
What's actually new here — brands have been throwing parties for decades.
True, but the format is doing something slightly different. It's not a product launch or a concert sponsorship. It's a structured conversation night, closer to a facilitated social event than a traditional activation.
Does the facilitation part matter, or is that just marketing language?
It mattered on the night. Having a host like Ronnie McVex meant the room had someone steering things — the conversations about money and relationships didn't just happen organically, they were prompted. That's a real design choice.
Why millennials specifically? Why that nostalgia playlist?
Millennials are the generation most likely to feel the gap between their online social life and their actual one. The 80s-to-2000s music is a shortcut to lowering defenses — it signals a shared past, even among strangers.
One woman made a point about money and relationships. Why does that detail matter?
Because it's the most human moment in the story. Everything else is brand architecture. That one comment is evidence that the room actually got somewhere real.
Is there a risk the campaign undermines itself — using a brand to sell authenticity?
That's the central irony, yes. But the people in the room weren't thinking about the irony. They were talking to each other. The mechanism doesn't have to be pure to produce a genuine result.
What does Gilbey's actually get out of this?
Association. If the evenings are remembered warmly, the gin is part of that memory. It's a long game — brand feeling, not brand awareness.
And what does Uganda's nightlife scene get?
Potentially a recurring format that gives people a reason to go out that isn't just drinking. That's not nothing in a city where the social calendar can feel thin outside of weekends.