The category was “Runway,” and shouts and screams rang out as two bald baddies walked the stage in their finest looks. Their slender frames swayed in four-inch heels; they snapped their fingers and tossed their heads impudently under pink and blue lights. Nairobi’s first ever kiki ball had begun. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this happen in Kenya,” said Kioni, an artist and photographer attending her first ball.
On a chilly evening in the Nairobi hills, dozens had gathered for the Denim on Denim Ball, an afternoon-to-night event held at 2 Grapes – Wine & Friends, a simple restaurant. The ball marked a significant moment for Kenya’s queer community. Expressions of same-sex relationships are illegal under the country’s statutes and can carry a maximum penalty of 14 years’ imprisonment. Loud and proud expressions of queerness are often squashed and silenced — first at home then in the wider world. There is “no other space as inclusive as ballroom,” said Andeti, the founder of the Haus of Andeti and organiser of the night’s event. “If you come [to a ball] and there is no category for you, then we can create something — your own lane to fit into.”
A kiki ball is a less formal version of a ball, taking its name from the unstructured, often laughter-fueled hangouts of queer and trans friendship groups. At some kikis, it’s not unusual to find folks practising their walks, honing their skills and gaining confidence to perform for larger audiences. Tonight, Andeti made a point to describe each category to the lively crowd. “I really appreciate Andeti explaining the rules to people,” said Nah Fret, who walked Face and Shake That Ass. “It really gives people a taste of what ballroom can be.”
The Haus of Andeti was founded in 2022 with the intention of building a home for Nairobi’s queer community. The same year, Andeti helped stage one of the first balls in the city’s history, co-hosting the event with local activist and musician Eyeliner Monarch. “People loved it,” said Andeti. “That acceptance motivated [the Haus of Andeti] to put on the kiki ball.”
In the months leading up to the Denim on Denim Ball, the Haus of Andeti hosted classes in Nairobi teaching ballroom basics to newcomers. The intention, as Andeti wrote on Instagram, was to transform “Nairobi’s queer and dance scene one cunty strut at a time.” In addition to Face and Shake That Ass, the night’s categories included Runway, Nails, Fashion Killa, Body, Face, Virgin Performance and Lip-Sync. And the guests showed out, with sharp duck and cat walks, spins and dips, fierce face cards and looks served with flair.
The performers’ reinterpretations of denim dazzled in the Fashion and Body categories: they wore cheeky short skirts, patchwork 90s-inspired streetwear and well-cut two piece sets, and topped off their looks with matching clutches and wedges. Andeti said he wanted the night’s theme to be “something in my daily life, that I can recognise anywhere.” By highlighting such widely available materials, the ball was able to cater to every budget.
The Denim on Denim Ball’s openness to play and artistic expression also offered an antidote to a very volatile moment in Kenya’s history. This summer’s youth-led protests, which called for government reform and the resignation of President Ruto, resulted in 39 deaths, with hundreds more injured at the hands of police. Anger has boiled in cities across the nation as essential needs are unmet, young people’s voices are ignored and lives are disregarded by the highest office in government. The Denim on Denim Ball was initially scheduled for June, but Andeti postponed the event until August to show solidarity with his fellow Kenyans. Blessin, a makeup artist and content creator, said that the past few weeks’ tensions seemed to melt away at the ball: “As soon as I walked in, there was a sense of peace and community.”
Longer term, the Haus of Andeti has given Nairobi’s queer community a home in which they can celebrate life and art at a time when it has seemed impossible. “I felt safe, I felt free,” category judge Vallerie Muthoni told me as the night wound down. “It felt like this was the beginning of something — like I was a part of history.”
Photography: Brian Kinywa