Dance: A Key Part of African Life

Dance is a big part of African life everywhere in the world. It connects our spirit and body, helping us stay close to our roots even after many years apart. Dance is one way we keep our African culture alive, no matter where we are.

Every Saturday, I get out of bed and walk to the Heart Heartist studio in my community for my Tungba class. Tungba is a type of Afrobeat dance that lets me express my younger self without going to clubs or parties. Last Saturday was special. We danced to Kizz Daniel’s music, mixing Igbo, Yoruba, Hausa, and Cuban dance moves as my teacher, Israel, led us. We didn’t do the Tiv Cat dance, but we included the Fulani stick dance along with Afrobeat and Amapiano styles. After class, memories hit me. Back in the 60s in Nigeria, we had a dance called Kpalongo that came from the Ga people of Accra. It was said to cause madness on the dance floor in Lagos. There was also the Bonsue, which might be linked to Akan Bosoe. Each dance tells a story of creation, worship, and celebration. The variety of dance styles shows what makes them distinctly African.

African dance has always been shaped by drums. Drums are key for keeping the beat and timing our movements. They traveled from Haiti to Congo Square, across the Caribbean to Cuba, blending into Son music and taking bata steps into El Cucaracha. The sounds of Calypso returned to Accra and Lagos with highlife, now mixed with Congolese Rhumba, evolving into Soukous and Makossa. The Atlantic Ocean has always shared and mixed these influences. I remember taking the moves from Cucaracha and adding funk breakbeats from my childhood. James Brown’s song "Say it Loud" became part of my signature dance in the 1980s during university. I could also understand the Hip Hop Cypher, thanks to the Ijala chants of our ancestors as they went into the forest. Over time, Africans and the diaspora have carried music, dance, and vibes that show how cultures can last forever. They also evolved the spirit and messages of their time.

The journey of dance continues across the Sahara with the Goje, a banjo-like instrument that brings the sound of the desert. The flowing dances reflect both the nomads and settled people, capturing the swirling movements of the sand and the sadness of wind instruments. I remember a late evening in the 1990s outside my grandfather-in-law’s rum shop in Calliqua, near Kingstown, SVG. I watched the calm waves of the Caribbean Sea. I felt like I could be in rural Georgia or coastal Morocco. As the moon rose, I could have been outside a Shabeen in Gugulethu. This wasn’t because the music was the same but because of the vibe and dance. People expressed the same African spirit in their unique ways through songs and dance.

There is a strong African spirit that deserves full expression. This spirit has always been present, even in people who have faced serious trauma. It shows in Brazilian Ginga, created to avoid Europeans who used any contact as an excuse for punishment. There was no protection from referees. Dance and body movements have always been a way to connect with the spirit in the African world, both in Africa and in the diaspora. These movements tell stories of our journey in life, showing our unique yet shared experience.

Afrilition helps the next generation understand what many African Churches now recognize. From Shakers in St. Vincent and the Grenadines to the Christ Apostolic Church in Nigeria, from AME churches in the US to the Copts in Egypt and the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, dance is seen as a powerful form of spiritual expression. Just like we understand ourselves, we need to create a space to explore how rhythm communicates Africa and reveals its messages through our dance. We have a duty to embrace the many ways we express our best selves in praise and recognition of our greatness. This is Afrilition.