There are festivals you attend for the artistes, and there are festivals you experience as a destination.
Kizimkazi festival turned out to be both.
My first Kizimkazi Festival began with a simple plan, follow the music and cover the stars. But somewhere between the journey to South Unguja, the crowds, the ngalawa races and the cultural displays, that plan quietly changed.
As an entertainment journalist, I had done the homework, checked the line-up, followed the announcements and marked the artistes I wanted to see.
Alikiba, Harmonize, Nandy, Mbosso, Marioo, Frida Amani and Uganda’s Jose Chameleone were all part of the attraction.
But somewhere between the road to South Unguja, the ngalawa races, exhibition stalls, old-school Bongo Flava memories and the sight of a community celebrating its culture and ambitions, I realised the music was only one part of the experience.
I may have arrived a few editions late.
The 2026 edition, held from August 12 to 14 at Dimbani grounds under the theme ‘Shangwe na Fursa ‘, celebration and opportunity.
The further we travelled, the clearer it became that Kizimkazi was not trying to separate the festival from the community around it.
The community was the festival.
People moved between activities, businesses displayed their products and visitors explored the area.
Cultural and sporting activities, food and business exhibitions formed part of the programme, while development projects added another dimension to the celebrations.
That was one of my biggest surprises.
I had expected a festival. I did not expect to spend part of the experience thinking about schools, water, housing, recreation and vocational training projects.
Suddenly, Shangwe na Fursa made sense. There was definitely shangwe.
But there were also fursa.
The more time I spent at the festival, the more interesting its history became.
What is now a major event did not begin with a star-studded stage and a national audience.
Its roots trace back to a community celebration that began in 2015, later evolving into Kizimkazi Day and eventually becoming the festival it is today.
That history is still visible. Even with major artistes, government leaders, businesses and visitors now part of the programme, there remains a strong sense that the festival belongs to the people of Kizimkazi.
It is about bringing people together, preserving traditions, supporting development and showing visitors what the area has to offer.
The stage delivered one of the festival’s strongest ideas, there was room for different generations.
The line-up moved between some of the biggest names in contemporary East African music and artistes whose songs carried the memories of an earlier era.
Seeing Shirko, Berry Black and AT take the audience down memory lane was one of those moments that reminded me how powerful nostalgia can be.
Once the familiar songs started playing, the crowd did not need an introduction.
People remembered.
Shirko and Berry Black’s reunion brought back memories of songs including ‘Najua and Na Wewe Tu’, while Shirko’s collaboration with AT, ‘Kumbe ni Mwizi’, added another layer to the throwback.
Then there was Luiza Mbutu. If the old-school Bongo Flava performances brought back memories through sound, Mbutu did it through movement.
Known for her years with Twanga Pepeta, where she built a reputation as both a vocalist and dancer, Mbutu brought her signature moves and presence to the festival.
It was a reminder that an artiste’s legacy is not always measured by how frequently their name appears on today’s playlists.
Then the festival shifted gears again.
Mbosso brought his romantic Bongo Flava sound. Alikiba had the crowd locked in. Harmonize arrived with the big-stage energy his fans expect, while Nandy brought her own star power.
Dulla Makabila represented the raw, high-energy world of singeli.
There was no attempt to make the festival sound like one thing.
Instead, Kizimkazi became a musical conversation.
Old school met new school. Bongo Flava met singeli. Romantic anthems met dance records.
Zanzibar’s musical history met sounds coming from beyond Tanzania.
For me, that was one of the festival’s smartest moves.
It did not ask the audience to choose between the past and the present. It gave both a microphone.
The further I moved around the festival, the more convinced I became that the headline artistes were only part of the story.
There was food, traditional art, business exhibitions, sport, community activities and then there were the ngalawa races.
Watching the traditional boats move across the water as people gathered to cheer was one of those moments that forced me, at least mentally, to put down the journalist’s notebook and simply watch.
It felt connected to the place. The race was sport, heritage and entertainment happening at the same time.
And in Kizimkazi, where the ocean is part of everyday life and livelihoods, it made perfect sense that conversations around the blue economy were woven into the festival.
The sea is not simply the backdrop for a beautiful Instagram post, here, it is opportunity.
That may be the biggest thing I took away from my first visit.
A festival can change the way you experience a destination. You might arrive because Alikiba is performing.
Then you stay for the culture, you discover the food, you watch a ngalawa race, you walk through an exhibition, you meet local entrepreneurs.
You learn something about the history of the community.
And before you know it, your concert trip has become something bigger.
Zanzibar does not need convincing as a tourism destination. The beaches, history, culture and coastline already do much of the work.
A festival like Kizimkazi gives them another reason to travel.
I arrived with curiosity. I was not comparing the 2026 edition with previous years.
I was simply experiencing what was in front of me.
What I found was a festival that could be loud when it needed to be, nostalgic when the moment called for it and traditional without feeling trapped in the past.
So yes, this was my first Kizimkazi Festival.
But I have a confession... I think I arrived a few editions late.
Next time, I will come knowing that the music is only where the story begins.
And I have a feeling Kizimkazi will still find a way to show me something new.
