In the Kenyan dance scene, Moesha Kibibi Tajiri, known widely as Moesha Kay, has emerged as more than a performer. She is a cultural icon, a mentor, and a living example of resilience.
From Majengo’s backstreets to international stages, her story is one of survival, artistry, and an unyielding desire to lift others as she climbs.
“I’m a dancer. I’m a mother. And I’m a survivor,” she says.
Born in Majengo, one of Nairobi’s oldest and toughest informal settlements, Moesha’s childhood was steeped in struggle.
Orphaned at a young age, she faced the grim realities that define slum life poverty, violence, and the threat of exploitation.
“In Majengo, a girl could easily end up in early marriage or prostitution. I knew I had to find another path,” she says.
For her the only way out was through dance. What others dismissed as a pastime became her lifeline. She discovered freedom and joy inside Memorial Hall, a humble space where children gathered to move to music.
“When I danced, I felt alive, like I was stepping into another world,” she says. “It wasn’t just movement it was survival, therapy, and prayer rolled into one.”
Her devotion propelled her into FBI Dance Crew, one of Kenya’s most formidable dance groups. Breaking into the all-male team was no small feat.
“Some of the guys doubted me, they thought I couldn’t keep up. But I had more energy than most of them,” she laughs.
With the crew, she became a trailblazer: winning the Sakata Dance Battle, performing across East Africa, and representing the continent at Hip Hop International in the U.S.
Her proudest milestone came in 2015, when she became the first young African woman to win the Best Cultural Act Award at the competition.
“I cried for two days straight,” she admits.
Yet, for Moesha, her legacy extends beyond the applause of any stage. Having tasted hunger, loneliness, and despair, she was determined to be the protector she never had. That determination gave birth to Diva’s Power Initiative, her movement dedicated to vulnerable children and marginalized youth.
What started as occasional outreach buying food, clothes, and listening to children’s stories in Majengo and Kibera grew into something bigger than she imagined.
She called it her “Coming to Your Hood” project, using the same energy she once poured into dance battles to build trust in the communities she once called home. Soon, children began to see her not only as a dancer but as a mother figure.
“At first, it was just girls because I understood their pain. Later I realized boys were suffering too. No one was talking about them,” she explains.
Over time, the initiative has expanded to touch lives across Kenya, welcoming orphans, children with special needs, HIV-positive youth, and even elderly people with no families to care for them.
The youngest under her wing is two years old, the oldest close to a hundred. Though resources are often stretched thin, she refuses to turn anyone away. “I don’t see numbers. I see lives,” she says.
Still, Moesha is candid about the challenges. She runs the initiative without steady funding, depending instead on goodwill, small donations, and her own earnings. The needs are endless food, clothing, school fees but she pushes forward.
“Love keeps me going,” she says. “It’s not easy, but these children look at me like I’m their only hope. I can’t give up.”
On social media, she balances this weight with infectious joy. Her TikTok videos, where she dances and laughs with the children, are both therapy and strategy.
“People think the kids are fine because they see them smiling online,” she explains. “But that’s me refusing to let them feel the pain I went through. I want them to have joy, even when life is hard.”
Moesha sees dance as empowerment. She teaches her children discipline, humility, and patience
through movement. She reminds them to share their talents boldly, telling them, “Whatever your gift is, work on it and post it. Someone will notice.”
Her pride is evident when she speaks of those who’ve gone on to secondary school, university, or creative training.
Her vision for the future remains ambitious. This year, she is hosted a dance competition at Sarit Centre early this august, designed not only to showcase talent but also to raise school fees for children.
Beyond Kenya, she dreams of taking Diva’s Power to the international stage, collaborating with global icons through dance icons like Beyoncé, Rihanna, Chris Brown, and Davido not for fame, but to amplify the voices of the children she serves.
Despite her global dreams, Moesha remains deeply rooted in the small, everyday joys like cooking, laughing with the children, and creating new routines. In those moments, she finds balance.
But when she’s asked how she manages the weight of it all, her honesty pierces through her polished resilience. “I cry. I break down sometimes. But I always get back up. My kids are watching. I have to be strong for them.”