Growing up, church was compulsory in most households, including my own.

We’d don our Sunday best and head over to Agape Church Kenya, previously referred to as a Sanctuary.

At the entrance to our left stood the altar and to our right the lounge made out of wood similar to the same weathered wood that lined the church's walls and gravel as the floor base.

Children would often peek outside, drawn by curiosity, only to be met with stern gazes from ushers reminding them of proper decorum.

I recall accompanying my parents to learn what seemed to be complex verses of the Bible; apart from John 3:16 and the one where Jesus wept.

Later on, we would be perplexed by dance gigs by our church dance crew.

Back then, we had so many children and youth concerts that we held across denominations, and this is what made a lot of us stay in church.

Patrick Samba takes us back to what seems like a lifetime ago through his journey as a gospel dancer.

“We told stories through our dance and hooked our audiences with cliff hangers who were always eager to see what happens next. We went from church to church reaching out to young people to bring as many souls as possible to the Kingdom, through dance,” recalls Samba.

He narrates how churches with dance crews organized for the gigs and people would come watch. “Agape was among the places we performed at and had a dance crew before us- Holy Squad. We observed what they did and emulated it as they were so good at it.”

Patrick Samba (in yellow t-shirt and pink trousers) with members of his former dance crew in 2012.

Photo credit: COURTESY

Apart from wanting to be a good dancer, Samba and his crew had another goal.

“We also wanted to change the narrative that salvation was mediocre so we’d approach churches to link with other youth and decided to use music and dance to capture the youthful audience. Most importantly was to keep the youth off dunda and drugs.”

The dance scene was so competitive that at his peak, together with his dance crew, Children of Destiny –CODE 07- they had the opportunity to participate in the famous Sakata Dance challenge.

But things shifted, for him as well as every other person who danced.

“After high school, it was becoming clear that everyone wanted to take different paths in life. Some wanted to pursue their studies while others the idea of getting married and having children came into play.”

Slowly, a split started happening.

“When popular dance crews started leaving the scene, so did our audience as we weren’t as consistent as we were before,” he says.

Samba admits that the creative industry too was not something that was understood in depth, adding that although it paid well, a lot more money was used in attire preparation.

“I was given an ultimatum by my family to either continue with dance or choose a well-paying job that guaranteed a stable pay check in the city. Although it was hard, I chose to seek employment.”

More than a decade later, Nakuru is yet to bounce back to the days of having vibrant dance groups in churches.

What killed Nakuru church dance crews that reigned supreme a decade ago?

Author Spotlight

Leleti Jassor