In the quiet heart of Kibigori village, Muhoroni Sub-county, music has become more than just entertainment—it’s therapy. As the sun dipped behind the hills, the sleepy village was anything but still. Feet moved, hands clapped and laughter echoed as elderly residents swayed to the sweet sounds of 1950s and 60s classics, all thanks to a musical mission with a healing touch.

At the center of this vibrant revival is the Lynnshosaha Foundation, led by Wickline Obong’o, a woman on a mission to battle depression and loneliness among Kenya’s aging population through the universal language of music.

“We are here to remind our grandparents that they are cherished, that their memories matter and that their spirits deserve to be lifted,” said Obong’o, as elders twirled and smiled through tears of joy.

The event, a live performance dubbed “Dancing Village”, was part of the foundation’s ongoing initiative to use music therapy in marginalized rural communities. It featured international talent Simon Krebs, a German musician whose soulful renditions turned nostalgia into a dance party. Even a dog joined in the rhythm, as if to say, joy is contagious.

For 81-year-old John Okello Ochola, the music stirred memories of a youth long past. “It’s like I went back in time,” he said, his eyes glistening. “For the first time in years, I felt light again.”

Globally, depression and anxiety continue to plague the elderly, often in silence. But studies have shown that group art-based interventions, especially music, can significantly boost mental health and emotional connection.

Krebs, who has performed in over 500 retirement homes across the world, said his heart now beats for the Kenyan rhythm. “From Berlin to Mombasa, I’ve seen what music can do,” he said. “But there’s something magical here—music doesn’t just echo; it heals.”

In Kenya, where about 6% of the population is aged 60 and above, the elderly often grapple with poverty, neglect and limited access to healthcare. The foundation’s efforts aim to counter these harsh realities by offering what modern medicine often can’t: emotional revival and social reconnection.

As dusk turned into night in Kibigori, the echoes of tambourines and the tapping of dancing shoes lingered. In that fleeting moment, it wasn’t about age or ailments—it was about life, love and the unspoken therapy of rhythm.

Because here, in Kisumu’s dancing village, depression meets its match—not in pills, but in people, passion and the power of a song.