In the Lagos of the 1980s and 90s, the name Shafau carried weight. At high-profile parties, Kafayat Shafau’s parents were among the first to spray crisp dollar bills on musicians. The likes of King Sunny Ade, Ebenezer Obey, and Sikiru Ayinde Barrister were frequent guests in their home. Wealth, influence, and social prestige defined their lives. For young Kaffy, the world seemed golden.
But fortunes change, and hers changed swiftly. The glamorous social scene faded when her family’s finances collapsed. Her father, once a respected Lagos socialite, left for London and started again — this time as a floor cleaner. Her mother, unable to bear the sudden fall, struggled emotionally and mentally.
For Kaffy, survival became a lesson in endurance. She remembers drinking garri for over 200 days — sometimes the only food available.
“Hunger is a tough teacher. If all you have is water, your body will adapt. I drank garri for seven months straight and yet I didn’t develop kwashiorkor,” she recalled.
Those years also carried the scars of her mother’s breakdowns. Nights when, in despair, she gathered her children and declared that their destinies had stolen her joy.
And yet, out of that chaos emerged a fire that would define Kaffy’s life. She turned to movement, rhythm, and dance — not as an escape, but as a form of survival. What began as a coping mechanism grew into a career that redefined dance in Nigeria.
Today, Kaffy is more than a performer. She is a trailblazer, a Guinness World Record holder, and an inspiration to young dancers who see in her a story not just of talent, but of resilience.
Her journey from opulence to deprivation and back to global recognition proves a simple truth: circumstances may break the body, but vision and discipline can rebuild a life.
