Topline: Multi-award winning South African-born Comedian and The Daily Show host, Trevor Noah, will be hosting arguably the biggest night in music at the 2021 63rd Grammy Awards at the end of January, the Recording Academy announced on Tuesday. 



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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" data-width="500" data-dnt="true">We’re thrilled to welcome <a href="https://twitter.com/TheDailyShow?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@TheDailyShow</a> host, Emmy-winner, and GRAMMY-nominee <a href="https://twitter.com/Trevornoah?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@TrevorNoah</a> as the host of the 63rd <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/GRAMMYs?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#GRAMMYs</a>! We can’t think of a better person to serve as Master of Ceremonies for Music’s Biggest Night. 🎶 <a href="https://t.co/vbFqPbXfgl">pic.twitter.com/vbFqPbXfgl</a>&mdash; Recording Academy / GRAMMYs (@RecordingAcad) <a href="https://twitter.com/RecordingAcad/status/1331233988535435265?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">November 24, 2020</a></blockquote><script async src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>
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<h3 class="wp-block-heading" id="h-key-facts">Key Facts</h3>



<ul><li>Before the 2021 Grammy Nominations were announced, the Recording Academy announced that Grammy-nominated comedian, Noah, would be hosting the award ceremony that will be held on Sunday, January 31, 2021.&nbsp;</li><li>This will be the first time Noah hosts the awards, which Harvey Mason jr., Chair and Interim President and CEO of the Recording Academy say will be an unforgettable and incredible evening as Noah has a “knack for keeping viewers engaged and entertained.”&nbsp;</li><li>“Trevor&#8217;s comedy talents, engaging energy and unique perspective make him the perfect host for the Grammys,&#8221; said CBS Entertainment Group President and Chief Executive Officer George Cheeks added in a statement.&nbsp;</li><li>Noah’s “Son of Patricia” scored a Grammy nomination in 2019 for his comedy album. However, the award ended up going to Dave Chappelle’s “Sticks &amp; Stones.”&nbsp;</li></ul>



<h3 class="wp-block-heading" id="h-crucial-quote">Crucial Quote</h3>



&#8220;Despite the fact that I am extremely disappointed that the Grammys have refused to have me sing or be nominated for Best Pop Album, I am thrilled to be hosting this auspicious event,&#8221; Noah said in a statement on Tuesday. &#8220;I think as a one-time Grammy nominee, I am the best person to provide a shoulder to all the amazing artists who do not win on the night because I too know the pain of not winning the award! (This is a metaphorical shoulder, I&#8217;m not trying to catch Corona). See you at the 63rd Grammys!&#8221;



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<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" data-width="500" data-dnt="true">In a year that most human beings would love to forget, there has been one constant force that has brought us together &#8211; Music. I’m truly honoured to be hosting The <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/GRAMMYs?src=hash&amp;ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#GRAMMYs</a>, a night celebrating all of our favourite artists who’ve helped keep us sane while we’re all stuck indoors! <a href="https://t.co/rmFuBjWeJk">pic.twitter.com/rmFuBjWeJk</a>&mdash; Trevor Noah (@Trevornoah) <a href="https://twitter.com/Trevornoah/status/1331301131906117637?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">November 24, 2020</a></blockquote><script async src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>
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<h3 class="wp-block-heading" id="h-further-reading">Further Reading </h3>



<a href="https://www.forbes.com/sites/arielshapiro/2019/08/16/the-highest-earning-stand-up-comedians-of-2019/?sh=7f9f9c4842fa" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener">The Highest-Earning Stand-Up Comedians Of 2019 (FORBES</a>



<a href="https://www.forbesafrica.com/arts/2019/08/20/trevor-noah-is-laughing-all-the-way-to-the-bank/">Trevor Noah Is Laughing All The Way To The Bank (FORBES AFRICA)&nbsp;</a>

62nd Annual GRAMMY Awards – Show

Trevor Noah Announced As Host For 2021 GRAMMYs

Gripping a lukewarm Heineken, Jim Gaffigan hunches his six-foot-one frame over a peeling table in the green room of the An Grianán Theatre in Letterkenny, Ireland. Summer nights are never terribly hot in these parts, but this one is warm enough to need some air conditioning, which the theater almost never uses. It’s hardly a glamorous moment. But then again, glamour isn’t really his thing.



“There’s nothing sexy about Jim Gaffigan,” he says, sweat dotting his brow. “I’m not young. I don’t have a full head of hair. I’m out of shape. I don’t talk about having dinner with Kanye.”



Fortunately for him, he is funny. Just ask the more than 300,000 people in 15 countries who’ve paid an average of $56 to see his latest routine. For the 53-year-old father of five, it’s been a grueling schedule: more than 75 cities in the past year, including whistle-stops like Letterkenny, a northern community of 20,000 that was once lauded as the Republic’s “tidiest town.”



READ MORE | <a rel="noreferrer noopener" aria-label="Trevor Noah Is Laughing All The Way To The Bank (opens in a new tab)" href="https://www.forbesafrica.com/arts/2019/08/20/trevor-noah-is-laughing-all-the-way-to-the-bank/" target="_blank">Trevor Noah Is Laughing All The Way To The Bank</a>



They may not offer much sizzle, but places like this are the lifeblood of Gaffigan’s business. He has raked in $30 million this year, putting him at No. 3 on&nbsp;Forbes’ list of the highest-earning stand-up comedians. Half of that was earned by putting “butts in seats.” 



The rest comes from spreading his punch lines far and wide. And in this business, if those jokes are funny enough—and your reach wide enough—you can fill a lot of seats with a lot of butts. With the right distribution deal, those jokes can deliver exponential returns. But that’s where it gets a bit tricky.



<blockquote class="wp-block-quote is-layout-flow wp-block-quote-is-layout-flow">“In the entertainment industry, every house is made of ice and it’s melting,” Gaffigan says. “So you’d better be building a new house.” &nbsp;</blockquote>



Gaffigan’s been building. In 2016, he agreed to partner with Netflix, the industry’s dominant force and home to original specials from all but one of the comedians on&nbsp;Forbes’ ranking. Last year he cut loose from the kingmaker and placed a bigger bet on himself, pairing up with Comedy Dynamics, an independent producer, to release his next special everywhere&nbsp;but&nbsp;Netflix.&nbsp;



Gaffigan will star in the first original stand-up special on Amazon, which is going after the streaming giant with a push into comedy.&nbsp;Quality Time&nbsp;goes live today, and it can be shopped on the open streaming market when its exclusive run with Amazon Prime Video is up in two years. And that market is only expanding.



Gaffigan has learned a bit about home building in the entertainment industry. He cut his teeth on the club circuit in the early 1990s, when HBO was the primary destination for stand-up specials and Comedy Central was a fledgling cable network. 



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In 2000, he landed what was then the holy grail of comedy success—a broadcast sitcom—which was the source of the fortunes the creators of&nbsp;Seinfeld&nbsp;and&nbsp;Roseanne&nbsp;minted once they had enough seasons on the air and could sell the series into syndication.



Gaffigan’s shot proved to be short-lived, but six years later he scored a second chance and headlined a Comedy Central special called&nbsp;Beyond the Pale. This time it paid dividends, landing him his first theater show a month later. The butts were now coming to the seats, and while his rise was live, in person, with microphone in hand, his breakout was digital.



At the time, YouTube was changing the rules of the game, providing comedians a global platform with unprecedented distribution. Then Twitter emerged, giving comedy bookers a real-time assessment of who was attracting audiences. 



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Then came the debut of streaming on Netflix, which latched onto comedy as a cheap and effective way to lure subscribers, while some, notably the now disgraced Louis C.K., used streaming to control their own distribution, making their shows available for fans to purchase directly.



“It was a technological wave that crashed over the stand-up world,” says Wayne Federman, a comedian and professor of the history of stand-up at the University of Southern California. “And we’re still all trying to figure out what’s going on.”



Gaffigan’s first original Netflix special aired in 2017, long after the company had reshaped the industry. It was a promising place to be: Aziz Ansari and Ali Wong were propelled into superstar status through their Netflix specials, while household names like&nbsp;Dave Chappelle&nbsp;and&nbsp;Jerry Seinfeld&nbsp;reportedly cashed in with $60 million (Chappelle) and $100 million (Seinfeld) paydays in exchange for long-term, multi-program deals. Gaffigan’s first special,&nbsp;Cinco, sold for a more modest seven-figure sum.



<figure class="wp-block-image"><img decoding="async" src="https://specials-images.forbesimg.com/imageserve/5d56bc6f95808800097cfe79/960x0.jpg?fit=scale" alt="Jim Gaffigan stand up comedy specials for Netflix and Amazon Original"/><figcaption>COURTESY</figcaption></figure>



It was more than just a check; it was access to a potential audience of nearly 94 million. Although Netflix’s subscriber base has grown since then, so has its stand-up library. The platform now shops nearly four times the number of original stand-up specials than when&nbsp;Cinco&nbsp;debuted. 



That makes it harder to stand out in the scroll. Plus, the streamer often holds onto specials in perpetuity, including&nbsp;Cinco. The up-front money is nice, but there is no ability to earn on the back end.&nbsp;



Gaffigan used his next special, 2018’s&nbsp;Noble Ape, which was directed and cowritten by his wife, Jeannie Gaffigan, to test the waters. Comedy Dynamics bought the rights and made it available everywhere Netflix wasn’t. It had a theatrical release and could be purchased and rented on multiple services, including&nbsp; iTunes, YouTube and Walmart’s VUDU. 



Later, there were short streaming windows on Comedy Central and Amazon Prime. According to Comedy Dynamics CEO Brian Volk-Weiss, it was even syndicated to planes and cruise ships. The up-front payment to Gaffigan from Comedy Dynamics was lower than at Netflix, but the wide distribution allowed him to earn on the back end, bringing in a total of $10 million, according to&nbsp;Forbes&nbsp;estimates.



READ MORE | <a rel="noreferrer noopener" aria-label="Burna Boy’s The African Giant Debuts On The Daily Show With Trevor Noah (opens in a new tab)" href="https://www.forbesafrica.com/arts/2019/08/14/burna-boy-the-african-giants-debuts-on-the-daily-show-with-trevor-noah/" target="_blank">Burna Boy’s The African Giant Debuts On The Daily Show With Trevor Noah</a>



And new services are on the way from Apple,&nbsp;WarnerMedia, NBCUniversal and&nbsp;Disney, any one of which could choose to pursue cheap-to-produce and popular stand-up specials.&nbsp;



Because of this widening field, stand-up specials may have more life (and revenue) in them, and that could be good for comedians looking to gamble on their success with deals that offer back-end participation. “We have titles in our library that are making more in year 12 than they made in year one,” says Volk-Weiss, whose company also owns specials by Bob Saget, Iliza Shlesinger and Janeane Garofalo.



Still, leaving Netflix means walking away from a partner that has now established itself as a formidable entertainment company. Netflix has some 180 original hour-long stand-up specials and is singularly focused on exploiting content around the world. Gaffigan, though, is content to keep the bet on himself.



“In the entertainment industry, every house is made of ice and it’s melting. So you’d better be building a new house.&#8221;



In the stuffy backstage room in Letterkenny, Gaffigan reviews some of the new material he tried out on stage. A joke about Ireland’s nonsensical roads killed it. He stumbled with a bit about the English. The classics played well—“My dad never went to a parent-teacher conference; my dad didn’t know I went to school.”&nbsp;&nbsp;



And he’s well aware that Amazon’s core mission is to sell stuff, even though it&nbsp;has won critical acclaim&nbsp;for shows like&nbsp;The&nbsp;Marvelous Mrs. Maisel&nbsp;and&nbsp;Transparent. With plans to deliver three more specials over the next five years, he’s got time to see just how good a partner the retailer might be. Along the way, he may decide it’s time to find a new neighborhood.



“The reason I went to Amazon is to expand my audience,” he says. “I don’t know what they’re gonna do and I don’t fully understand their marketing might. I might be pleasantly surprised. I mean, it’s a huge corporation. They could probably make more selling socks.”



-Ariel Shapiro; Forbes

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Comedian Jim Gaffigan Rakes In $30 Million By Ditching Netflix And Betting On Himself

From cattle herder to comedian to liquor businessman, Mashabela Galane is a man of many talents.
This is not a joke. This is the story of South African comedian and entrepreneur Mashabela Galane from the dusty streets of Mmotong Kgohloane village in Limpopo where he once led a life herding cattle.
“Growing up in the rural areas is not easy. You are not sure if you are going to pass [matric], but what you want is to get out of your village [after matric] and move to Johannesburg and make something of your life,” says Galane.
On this warm winter’s afternoon when we meet him, Galane emerges, wearing a coat and holding a bottle of his Moringa Gin product, recently introduced in the South African liquor market.
The man of humble beginnings has an infectious smile – his job is to also make people laugh – and you can sense the pride in his voice as he talks about his life.
In the year 2000, he was a student at the University of the Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, studying for a bachelor’s degree in performing arts and media studies.
“It was difficult for me when I got to Witwatersrand because I was not used to the environment. I used to think that I was one of the smartest in high school until I arrived at university,” says Galane.
Having never set foot in a library or even been to a career exhibition, he was determined to learn in order to succeed. His motivation was his family – he didn’t want to disappoint them.
“It was very sad to be one of the slowest students in class… But I worked so hard because I told myself that I am here to make it,” he says.
“Most of the students that work really hard at university are the ones that come from the rural areas. Because they know that they need to pass because they have nothing else to fall back on at home unlike those that come from privileged families.”
It was in his third year at university that Galane’s fortune changed, that would literally see him laughing all the way to the bank.
“We used to go to the Witwatersrand theater where we would watch plays and sometimes there would be comedians who would come to perform. When I saw them perform, I knew that this was what I want to do,” he says with a big smile.
<a href="http://www.forbesafrica.com/entrepreneurs/2018/10/18/no-wasted-opportunities-for-swazi-entrepreneur/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">READ MORE: No Wasted Opportunities For Swazi Entrepreneur</a>
So he started a society in performing arts intended for students from rural areas.
“So it was then that I started making jokes and I would perform around the residences,” he says.
Though he started his performances in English, he later opted for stand-up comedy in vernacular languages, which turned out in his favor because that is what set him apart in the comedy industry and put him on South Africa’s cultural map.
“There are people who want to laugh in their mother language,” he quips.
“As a vernacular comedian, we have a wider market compared to the English-performing comedians. They would struggle to fill up a 1,000-seater venue at The Lyric Theatre and I can do Big Top Arena [in Johannesburg] and it takes a capacity of 3,500.”
<div id="attachment_37527" style="width: 693px" class="wp-caption alignnone"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-37527" class="wp-image-37527 size-large" src="https://www.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/Mashabela-468-683x1024.jpg" alt="" width="683" height="1024" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/Mashabela-468-683x1024.jpg 683w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/Mashabela-468-300x450.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/Mashabela-468-600x900.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/Mashabela-468-200x300.jpg 200w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/Mashabela-468-768x1151.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/Mashabela-468.jpg 1366w" sizes="(max-width: 683px) 100vw, 683px" />Mashabela Galane. Photo by Motlabana Monnakgotla.</div>
In 2008, Galane turned comedy into a profession and recorded his first DVD, Strictly Vernac.
This would be a game-changer earning him plaudits in the world of comedy, and this success spurred him on to also try his luck in the liquor industry as an entrepreneur.
He had saved some of the money he made from his annual stand-up comedy shows.
His future would be as an entrepreneur infusing the organic flavors of the moringa plant, native to parts of Africa, into a distilled spirit.
“Hustling in the comedy industry helped me because it needed me to have a business mentality,” he says of his acumen for enterprise.
He first stumbled upon moringa juice, and then moringa beer, which he only sells at markets.
“Within the first two months, while I was still waiting for the beer to brew, I went to a gin market which had different flavors of gin,” continues Galane.
It is then that he decided to digress from craft beer to craft gin. His first attempt was not successful. The gin tasted like whiskey.
“I didn’t like it, it wasn’t nice. I lost more R300,000 ($20,443) of my savings trying to get it right.”
It has been an arduous journey since. Finding the right packaging not already on the market was a challenge as well as having to provide distributors with the product before they pay.
But the bumpy ride has been worth it, says Galane, because he always knew he would find his entrepreneurial side.
“I have always had the characteristics of a businessman because I used to sell chips at the taxi rank during school holidays.”
Galane is laughing all the way to the bank as his craft gin is available nationwide; soon he will launch an App for placing orders. He plans to also branch into the cosmetics industry using the moringa plant.
He has discovered the serious side of business, and unlike his on-stage alter ego, it’s not funny.

Mashabela-extended1

The Comedian With Spirit

To make it as a comedian you need to be prepared for long hours of traveling, little sleep and even less food.
South African comedian Tshireletso Phasha, popularly known as TT Phasha, is a radio co-host on YFM’s midday show Krunch Time. In the evenings and on weekends, he performs at clubs and corporate events.
“Comedy cannot yet pay all my bills. I sometimes do gigs to get exposure but there is no landlord who accepts exposure as a payment method,” he says.
Phasha has been in the comedy industry for three years and has performed alongside some of the best comedians in the country, such as the Goliath and Goliath trio (Jason, Donovan and Nicholas), Sifiso Nene and Skhumbuzo ‘Skhumba’ Hlophe. He has also appeared on Comedy Central’s show for up-and-coming stand-up comedians, Savanna Newcomer Showcase. Yet, with all this exposure, he is still trying to make ends meet.
As an only child growing up in Atteridgeville, Pretoria, Phasha never realized comedy could be a full-time career.
“I’ve always thought I was a funny guy but I never thought it would be a full-time career. As soon as I found out that there are people making a living off it, I’ve wanted to become one more than anything else in the world,” he says.
<div id="attachment_35670" style="width: 250px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-35670" class=" wp-image-35670" src="https://www.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/TT-Phasha-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="240" height="360" />TT Phasha (Photo supplied)</div>
His comedy career started at Comikazi, an open mic competition at Parker’s Comedy and Jive, in Montecasino, Johannesburg, after a friend suggested he do so.
“I felt I was as good as some of the best comedians in the country and I just wanted to be counted as one of them,” he says.
It has not been easy for Phasha. He still struggles to book decent gigs and he also started to doubt his talent.
When he started as a comedian, Phasha was living in Mpumalanga, a province in northeastern South Africa.
“Getting to shows was a mission. I had to plan days in advance. Then getting stage time was a challenge because I didn’t know anybody.
“I moved to Johannesburg but I still don’t have a car… I still worry if my jokes are funny but now at least I get stage time,” he says.
The fear of not being funny enough is something that haunts him every day.
“If I’m not funny then it ruins everything, doesn’t it?”
He remembers one gig where the audience wasn’t laughing at his jokes.
“I was at a club and I noticed that everyone was just walking around and not paying attention to me. So, I started telling them that I don’t care if they’re laughing or not, because I’m getting paid either way. I told them that they better laugh otherwise they’re wasting their own money. They started laughing.”
Phasha’s biggest battle right now is with promoters.
“I think the biggest mistake I make in the industry is allowing promoters to pay me peanuts. It’s always a challenge knowing how much to charge people, since we provide a service. But it’s about knowing what you’re worth,” he says.
Earning meagre amounts has not changed his mind about being a comedian. He says believing in himself is his greatest achievement.
“You need to work to earn a name for yourself. I can&#8217;t charge much yet, because people don&#8217;t know me. It’s a great industry to be in. One of the toughest to crack, but the most fulfilling once you see all your dreams and ambitions come true. If it wasn’t hard, everyone would be doing it,” he says.
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One of South Africa’s most well-known comedians, Mongezi ‘Tol A$$ Mo’ Mahlangu, has faced similar problems. He says promoters tend to negotiate lesser fees for him.
“They tend to undervalue us. We always have to negotiate our own rates, unlike musicians. I wish they would take us as seriously as they take them, considering the intellectual process that goes into preparing our work,” says Mahlangu.
Mahlangu made his break in 2010 when he was featured on the reality television series Opening Guys, in which Kagiso Lediga mentored emerging comedians.
He has come a long way since then. He is mostly known for his appearances on numerous television series, including Mo Love on Vuzu, in which he starred with his wife, Mome. He also does stand-up internationally.
Mahlangu has achieved success in a short space of time. He can make R50,000 ($4,186) per one-man show, but most of his income comes from endorsements and television shows. He recently bought a house in Sandton, one of Johannesburg’s most affluent suburbs, proving that comedy can be lucrative.
<div id="attachment_35671" style="width: 311px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-35671" class=" wp-image-35671" src="https://www.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Basketmouth-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="301" height="452" />Basketmouth (Photo by Motlabana Monnakgotla)</div>
Bright Okpocha, better known by his stage name Basketmouth, is one of Africa’s best comedians but it was a hard slog to make a name for himself. The Nigerian, from Lagos, says he started with a one-man show which would earn him one naira per set. He now makes between $7,000 and $11,000 per month. In February last year, he became the first African to headline the Wembley Arena in London.
“Ever since I was 20 years old, I have never done a nine-to-five job. I don’t know what that feels like and I wish I did so I could appreciate what I do more,” he says.
Although Okpocha leaves his fans giggling, he is the one laughing all the way to the bank.
“I know that I just need to ensure that I get that one show for the month to ensure that my budget is met… I can proudly say that one gig sustains me for the month,” he says.
However, he is not always in the mood to crack jokes.
“Most people think that comedians are always happy and that we don’t live a normal life, but the truth of the matter is that we are like every other person out there. We also have ups and downs and mood swings like everyone. The pressure for us is too much because of the expectations that everyone has. I can’t meet up to the demands [that people have], so I do my very best to stay private as much as I can,” he says.
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Another established comedian can be found in an unlikely place – the lecture halls of Central University of Technology (CUT) in Bloemfontein. Hailing from Lesotho, Tshepo ‘Masapo’ Mpiti prefers to keep his act clean.
“I don&#8217;t use profanity and I avoid derogatory topics that may leave people offended,” says Mpiti.
<div id="attachment_35669" style="width: 461px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-35669" class=" wp-image-35669" src="https://www.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Tshepo-415-300x199.jpg" alt="" width="451" height="299" />Tshepo ‘Masapo’ Mpiti (Photo by Motlabana Monnakgotla)</div>
His rate was $125 for a 15-minute gig at clubs. As a master of ceremonies he would charge between $500 and $1,000. After being nominated at last year’s Savanna Comics’ Choice Awards for the pan-African category, he is being booked for more gigs and is able to ask for more money.
He, however, says that Lesotho did not always see value in its comedians.
“My country did not have an accepting atmosphere towards comedy, mainly because there has never been anyone who really put it out there. Because I work in South Africa, I got to witness the magnitude in which comedy can be turned into a lucrative career. I pushed myself for seven years, then I started to get calls from restaurants and pubs for shows in my country. I even received a contract for six months to perform at one of the local malls,” says Mpiti.
<a href="http://www.forbesafrica.com/focus/2016/06/01/south-african-can-smell/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">READ MORE: Trevor Noah &#8211; &#8216;I&#8217;m A South African, You Can Smell It On Me&#8217;</a>
Mpiti spends a lot of time traveling between South Africa and Lesotho, which can be tiresome, but is grateful that most of the money he charges goes straight into his pocket. He also encourages emerging comedians to be firm when negotiating their rates.
“Payment for logistics, like transportation and accommodation, are not included… If, as a comedian, you still perform for food, alcohol and exposure then you might as well drive a taxi,” he says.
Who knows, there may be a taxi driver rumbling along the roads of Africa, waiting for their chance to crack a joke &#8211; and be paid for it.

The Serious Business Of Being Funny

When a veteran American comedian and actor Jon Stewart retired as the anchor of The Daily Show late in 2015, after 16 years at the helm, his producers scrambled to offer the job to everyone from Chris Rock to Amy Schumer. They settled on the fresh face from South Africa, with an unusual accent, to dissect and satirize the complex United States political scene as it heads for this year’s elections.
Months before the first show went to air, on September 28, American journalists were skeptical. They didn’t believe Trevor Noah could fill Stewart’s shoes in a show that once captured 3.57 million viewers when Barack Obama breezed through on the cusp of his 2008 election victory.
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Bad reviews followed and Noah’s viewership has fallen compared to the days of Stewart. Seven months on, before a press gathering on set, to mark his 100th show, the 32-year-old from Soweto is unfazed.
“It makes sense to me, if my ratings weren’t down I would be offended on behalf of Jon Stewart. It would make sense that people are going to see the king on his way out, when you’re building a new legacy you need to do exactly that. That means building on a new legacy. Television as a whole is down in America. The biggest thing you have to acknowledge is that there are multiple streams of viewership that are happening now,” says Noah.
Despite the drop in popularity among American viewers – the Nielsen ratings report a 37% decline – it broadcasts to 170 countries, compared to 163 when Noah took over.
“These ratings aren’t disastrous, but considering that politics are the bread and butter of late night television, Noah’s numbers are disappointing. Given this preposterous election season, the material practically writes itself. In Jon Stewart’s 2011-2012 season, his nightly average was 1.7 million viewers,” says Hayley Cuccinello a New York-based TV critic.
The show also generates an average of 67 million monthly streams across digital platforms, in 2016, up 22% against 2015.
Noah says the rise of the web is changing people’s viewing habits as millennials switch from television to the internet. His critics agree that these millennials are supporting Noah.
“I like Trevor’s show, I think his take is unique and he is not necessarily copying Jon Stewart. He is kind of doing his own style, maybe a little bit more humorous and characterizations. He is inspired by Jon but he is not just doing imitation of him. The brand of The Daily Show itself is enough to get people interested, especially online, I think Trevor is doing a good thing with social media. I personally don’t watch it on TV a lot but watch it on Facebook and YouTube clips, so I think social media has helped him reach out to people, not necessarily on TV, he has to branch out on other outlets,” says 24-year-old Nader Salem, from New Jersey.
Indeed, the audience at Noah’s 100th show on April 28, in Manhattan, had many people from afar. There were a number of South Africans, supporting their own, including the South African Broadcasting Corporation correspondent in New York, Sherwin Bryce-Pease, and Sunday Times’ entertainment writer Azizzar Mosupi, who flew in for the show.
“We are SAA (South African Airways) employees. It is mandatory for every African in New York to make time for the show. We love Trevor. He is an inspiration to every African child. He is the living proof anything is possible,” says Zanda Setlaleleng.
“I watched Jon Stewart and I have been watching Trevor Noah as well, I didn’t realize today is the 100th show, I am glad I am here tonight. Trevor is very different from Jon but pretty great too. He has a very different view of things that I think people can learn from. I appreciate his sense of humor. Hundredth show on my birthday, there you go,” says Fiona Charlton, a visitor to New York from Britain.
On the night of the show, Noah ran to the stage, fired up, in a black tailored suit and tie. He made the house rules clear to the cheering audience: “This thing is like a sex tape – people watch to get off on seeing both people having a good time… So, you have to give me your all because I am going to give you mine.”
Noah prides himself in a diverse team of scriptwriters who advise him on issues of religion, nationality and gender.
“There’s nothing off limits, it’s just what are you trying to do with a joke. Even before The Daily Show I always liked jokes that bring people together, and jokes that build the nation. In South Africa I made jokes about the president, to his face, for many years. He knows me, people in Parliament know me. That never stopped me from engaging with them and them engaging with me. There’s an implicit understanding. The worst thing that can happen is when somebody takes your joke to hurt another person or group when you didn’t intend to do that.”
Noah stepped into the comedy scene through a dare. In the early 2000s, he was a regular at the comedy clubs in Johannesburg. One night the host called for newcomers to take the microphone, his drunk friends pushed Noah on stage.
That night, Noah slayed them in the aisles and never looked back. In a few years, he would become the country’s favorite comedian, playing to packed houses, and the host of Tonight With Trevor Noah on M-Net across Africa.
Noah says South Africa will always be home and he keeps tabs on the political scene. He is not eligible to vote in the US elections he comments on nightly, but on August 3 he will be one of many South Africans casting their vote at the embassy in New York for in the municipal elections back home.
“Over the years travelling, performing comedy all over the world and now doing The Daily Show, I have learned if you stay true to yourself and if you are proud of who you are and where you come from, that in itself becomes the mantle. I love telling jokes about South Africa and Africa, I will go for the disparaging comments that people think are stereotypes of the continent. I myself, in many ways, a complete juxtapose of what people think of the continent. I am a South African, you can smell it on me,” he says.
Noah grew up crammed into a small house in Soweto, where he shared a room with his stepbrothers and cousins where he peed in a bucket in the mornings. His mother, a Xhosa woman, had a child with his father, a Swiss-German, which was against the law in apartheid days. Noah recalls his mother had to dress like a domestic worker and his father had to walk on the other side of the street to avoid the attention of police on family outings.
“I was born a crime,” Noah often joked.
Whatever the ratings say, it is clear Noah intends to joke through the storm. As a fellow African in New York I put my money on him having the last laugh at the expense of his detractors.

“I Am A South African, You Can Smell It On Me”

It’s a typical Friday afternoon for comedian Simmi Areff. He sits across the table in the Joburg Theatre Canteen, South Africa, with a hookah pipe in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. Every ten minutes his phone vibrates as his manager tirelessly tries to track him down. Areff is surprisingly calm for someone who is about to go on stage in two hours before the withering stare of a hard to please audience. It’s even more surprising when he says hasn’t got a clue what he is going to say.
“After tonight I’ll be able to tell you if I was ready or not, but the only thing I can do wrong is disappoint them. I have about 30 minutes of the show, but it’s that last 15 minutes. I don’t know if I’m going to talk to people or what. Lots of people say that talking to people is not part of a one man show, but it’s what I’m good at. It’s what I’m known for, so why not. So I’m going to talk to people, I don’t know who yet but I’m going to do it,” he says through a cloud of mint-flavored smoke.
Areff grew up in a Muslim part of Durban. He moved to Johannesburg in 2011 with $2.80 in his pocket and a dream of being a stand-up comedian. He spent his nights telling gags for his dinner, moving from bars to clubs in Melville, a trendy suburb in Johannesburg known for its comedy scene. Sometimes he did them for free merely for exposure. It was a hard time for him and his flatmates; especially as they are also struggling comedians. Once, they were so poor all they could afford for supper was a lollipop.
“That was many years ago. We didn’t have any food. We just had a Fizzpop. So we broke the lollipop and someone ate the stick,” he says.
“Our industry in this country tells you the game. You must go to clubs and do 500 open spots. You must then do intermediate spots. Then you must become a headliner. When you are a headliner you must start doing corporate gigs. You make all your money on the corporate circle then you do one man shows. I said no. I don’t do comedy to do corporate gigs. I do comedy to make people laugh,” says Areff.
“I miss home every day; I miss my mom irritating me and my dad trying to tell me jokes thinking I am going to use them.  Durban is a small town but once you move to Joburg you can go anywhere else in the world.”
Three years on from the day of the lollipop, Areff makes $1,800 a show.
As his name grew, so did the shows. Although he hated them he charged outrageous prices for corporate gigs and he was shocked that people were willing to pay.
<div id="attachment_31312" style="width: 310px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-31312" class="size-medium wp-image-31312" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/20131122-IMG_9439-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="200" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/20131122-IMG_9439-300x200.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/20131122-IMG_9439-600x400.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/20131122-IMG_9439-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/20131122-IMG_9439.jpg 1024w" sizes="(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px" />Simmi Areff</div>
“I had R30 in my bank account, and then that night I had R6030 in my account. Things change very quickly in Joburg,” he says.
Backstage, Areff sits in a corner with a pencil and paper writing out jokes for his first one-man show ‘Strictly Makrooh’ which opened in November. The comedian spent $760 to book the venue for his show. Areff sold out without spending a cent on advertising. He just tweeted about it. He even stopped the show for fans to take pictures to tweet about him.
Under a cool blue light the audience of 300 waits for the show. Areff emerges in to rapturous applause. His jokes take a swipe at a Muslim growing up in South Africa; the days of dodging jellyfish on Durban’s main beach, the days of having to shave his beard to avoid being looked upon as a terrorist.
Then he turns on the crowd. He targets a fashionably dressed man in his late fifties in the front row.
“Wow it’s so nice of you to come to my show. It’s so nice of you to bring your mother,” says Areff.
“It’s not my mother, this is my wife,” says the man.
The audience flinches. Areff looks up.
“Oh well sorry for you, I don’t know why you would married someone so old,” says Areff.
Off-stage controversy follows Areff like a bad joke. In 2012, Areff offended two Muslims so badly they waited for him backstage. Security arrested the two.
It is not the first time his jokes have been taken the wrong way. The South African National Halaal Authority (Sanha) threatened to sue Areff for using their logo for ‘Strictly Makrooh’. The logo read ‘HAHA-laal’.
“A lot of people ask if I got tickets sales for that, but the truth is I didn’t. Maybe during that period 40 tickets were sold but I had already sold 150 tickets. It was great publicity. Apparently I was even on TV in Australia,” says Areff.
“I was inundated with hate mail. My phone was off the hook with private number calls. It was here in the Joburg Theatre, October the 18th, a Friday. I knew I had to go face a few thousand people who might hate me or love me. I was sure they heard the news. I walked onto the stage and thought, wow this could go really bad. I went out and said ‘so I think you’ve heard about me this time. These guys just tried to take me to court.’ They all giggled. Then I knew I had nothing to worry about. My fans didn’t care.”
Areff has had his fair share of deaths on stage. His most recent in 2013 was on tour in the small town of Mafikeng, 300 kilometers North West from Johannesburg, with Riaad Moosa, who played Ahmed Kathrada in Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom (2013) and the lead role in Material (2012).
“It was the first time that I had performed in front of Muslims in a long time. I was very nervous and I died on stage. They [the crowd] were very conservative. They didn’t get me. But then Riaad also went on and he also died. I felt much better,” he says.
Areff also wrote jokes for comedian Trevor Noah and Late Night News’ (LNN) Loyiso Gola. One of his first skits on LNN was a female Muslim in a Chador singing a parody to Puff Daddy’s I’ll Be Missing You. The video is still on YouTube.
It’s an incredibly hard market to break into, but it’s desperate for new talent says Areff.
“Loyiso Gola told me ‘you know what your problem is? Your ego is bigger than your comedy. But once your comedy is bigger than your ego you will see how things change’. This year my comedy has been the same level as my ego,” he says.
When it comes to the funniest jokes he has ever heard, Areff says it’s hard to keep track.
“I hear so many every day. But the funniest one I heard last year was when Eugene Khosa said that Mac Maharaj [the official spokesperson of the president of South Africa], was the autocorrect of Jacob Zuma. I remember I laughed out loud for days after that.”
The comedian has learned to roll with the punches; and has dodged a few. With $2.80 in his pocket Areff’s journey as a comedy entrepreneur has led him to the wild side of life. What a journey it has been from a man who wanted to share a lollipop.   FL

Simmi Areff

Hate Mail And  Death On Stage

You’re standing on stage, sweat dripping and your handshakes as it grips the mic. The spotlight blinds. The booing crowd throws popcorn. A man, who sounds like Mufasa from The Lion King, yells “Get off!” You look for sympathy from a young woman in the front row, but she looks away. Desperate for a laugh, you try one last joke. As you reach the punch line an apple core hits your head. Then, Tumi Morake wakes up.
“I never want to be the protagonist in that story,” she says.
It can be worse.
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Now for a real story: A few days after one of her night club gigs, Morake went to perform at a school. One of the teachers in the audience had seen her at a previous gig, when she recalled the things Morake had said, she kicked her out of the school.
“I was marched off the property because she said that she would not have me in that place because she knows exactly what I have to say and she’s not interested.”
Morake was quite insulted. In a way it reflects the conservative views about what an African woman can and cannot say.
“I’m not an idiot, there is no way I would repeat what I [had said] in a club full of drunk people to a room full of parents and children,” she says.
She might be Tumi Morake on stage but at home she’s Tumi Osei-Tutu.
“I paid cows for that,” laughs Morake’s husband, Mpho Osei-Tutu.
At the beginning of her career as a comic, Osei-Tutu knew Morake would push the envelope and potentially offend someone. During each show, he sat with sweaty hands and brows furrowed as he waited for what she would say next.
“It wasn’t easy dating somebody who speaks so openly about personal things… I was a little bit like ‘Woah! Do you need to swear so much and does that joke need to be so dirty?’”
As Osei-Tutu begins to explain one of the jokes, Morake raises her hands in protest and jokingly cuts him off.
“Okay, okay. We get it,” she interrupts as Osei-Tutu nervously laughs.
He is an established actor, writer and producer who was born in Paris to a Ghanaian father and mother from Lesotho. He met Morake at the University of the Witwatersrand, in Johannesburg, where they were both studying drama.
Interestingly enough, it was Osei-Tutu who got Morake her first show in 2004. Back then Osei-Tutu ran a comedy show for different charities, which were supported by Rotaract. He was well connected in the industry and put together a comedy night with some of the biggest names in comedy. The line-up included:  Joey Rasdien, Riaad Moosa, Tshepo Mogale and David Kau. When Osei-Tutu told Morake that she would be the opening act, he got an unexpected response.
“Are you mad? You have celebrity comics and I must go on that stage? No, thank you!”
It didn’t take much to convince her. She went up, did her five minutes and killed it. But it would be another two years before she stepped back on stage. Morake struggled to find acting jobs and soon realized that the life of a script writer was not sustainable.
“With writing work the money only comes when the scripts are approved. So in the meantime I started doing stand-up comedy in clubs.”
Morake’s transformation over the years has gone from trying to find the funniest thing to say and just saying it in the moment, to intentionally saying things to shock the audience. As a black woman, when she became a wife and mother, she felt as though there were rules about what she was allowed to say.
“When I get on stage, screw those expectations and rules. That’s my world, when I’m on stage that’s my hood. That’s why when I’ve been on stage and I’ve said something I will never apologize for it, ever. I don’t care how offended you are, you should not come to a comedy club if you get offended. We don’t take offence applications.”
She went from opening acts to corporate gigs and as she became better so did the money. Once someone asked her who her manager was and when they heard her response, they quickly pointed her in the right direction.
“I don’t have one… I’m not a comic I just talk rubbish,” laughs Morake.
That “rubbish” has turned her into one of the most successful female comics in South Africa. If you disagree with her, hard luck.

When I’m on Stage, Screw You

Words like ‘cocky’, ‘arrogant” and ‘aloof’ come up a lot these days where Trevor Noah is concerned. But that said, any individual with a sense of impartiality would also agree that adjectives like ‘successful’, ‘funny’ and ‘charming’ do define him.
Born on February 20, 1984 in the most famous township in Africa—Soweto, he was the first-born son of a black African Xhosa woman and a father of Swiss origin. He will not be drawn too much into speaking about his father, but describes himself as having been a sheltered child who spent a lot of time indoors—his mother, who was to later remarry and have two more sons, gave him the freedom to decide what to do with his own life.
<div id="attachment_288" style="width: 310px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-288" class="size-medium wp-image-288" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/294-182_1-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="200" />Comedian Trevor Noah, Johannesburg; 14 October 2011 &#8211; Photo by Brett Eloff</div>
“I never went to college, and I was never nagged about it like one would expect a Xhosa mother to,” he quips. “I believe university and all tertiary institutions are there to help people decide what career to go into, and I happened to be fortunate enough to have gone straight into work after I discovered that I really liked stand-up comedy and saw that as something I would definitely want to spend my life doing. It is such a cool form of expression,” he continues.
Earlier in 2011, Noah packed up and relocated to Los Angeles in a bid to conquer the world’s biggest comedy scene. So naturally, I asked him if, with this move to tinsel town in the United States, he was trying to be South Africa’s next Charlize Theron.
“Not at all,” he answers. “When I went over there, it was like working for the same company but moving to a different branch in a different city, just like taking a work transfer. I knew even before I booked my plane ticket that I already had gigs booked; I had an apartment waiting for me&#8230; so I was certainly not going there to try my luck. And I really wouldn’t recommend that anyone go to a new country to just see what happens,” he asserts.
By now my pop-culture comparison with Charlize Theron is starting to feel rather loose—anybody who has been in and around the entertainment industry of South Africa, and followed this young man’s career, knows that Noah has been steadily and successfully building his “brand”, and by the looks of things, making good money.
Noah isn’t keen on calling himself a “comedy businessman” or any kind of businessman, for that matter. In as much as he agrees that the business of comedy has boomed on the continent, especially during the last decade, he still insists that he wouldn’t go as far as honoring himself with that businessman tag.
“Entertainment and comedy have been around for as long as language has existed. People have been telling stories and making others laugh for centuries, long before someone decided to add the financial aspect to it. Business requires an awful lot of work, whereas entertaining people is probably the most organic, most natural thing out there,” explains the former actor and radio DJ.
Noah’s reluctance to align his craft too much with business is rather refreshing, seeing as there are few comics in South Africa who have enjoyed the success that he has. Noah has hosted numerous television shows; hosted and produced his own self-titled late-night show; acted as MC at the biggest award-events; and filled 3,000-seater venues for his one-man comedy tours. So does he feel he’s reached the ceiling here at home?
“I definitely don’t feel like I’ve done everything that can be done in comedy here at home; that’s why I still come back from time to time, because I still have projects here. I feel the comedy industry on this continent is actually only in its fetal stage. We as comedians still need to find our own identity. We need to move past the stage where American comics still have a huge influence on our material and stage acts,” he says.
So now that we are on the topic of material and where material is derived from, we cannot ignore the rumors emanating from other South African top comics like David Kau, accusing him of using some of their jokes without their authorisation.
“I choose not to respond to people who accuse me of such. I think my work IS my response. It speaks for itself. I wouldn’t have reached the heights that I have reached if all I did was chop other comics’ material,” he says.
So as I continue to probe these accusations and the rumours that he was actually pushed out of the country, Noah tells me his theory regarding this problem: “I find that with us Africans, we like to bring each other down and not celebrate each other’s success. We insist on finding fault within someone’s success when it suits us. I remember at some point in (American hip-hop phenomenon) Jay-Z’s career, all these other rappers came out of the woodwork and accused him of stealing their rhymes. Look where he is now! I am at that point where I don’t even let it get to me,” he declares.
It’s pretty understandable that Noah would think there are envious forces out there. His career is illustrious. His DVDs sell in numbers unheard of in these parts. A representative at NuMetro Distribution, Billy Dundee, revealed that Noah’s first DVD, titled Day Walker, sold in excess of 50,000 copies, giving Noah multi-platinum selling status. “His second DVD, called Crazy Normal, was released at the end of July and has already reached 20,000 units sold,” says Dundee.
Then there’s every performing artist’s dream: endorsing a major company, which Noah has also bagged. Cell C brought Noah on board as a CEO, although in his case the acronym stands for “chief experience officer”. An entire marketing campaign was designed around him to publicize that Cell C were upgrading their systems and call centres and creating a 4G network.
He is—as expected—very evasive about the amount he gets out of this deal, but a source at Cell C, who insisted on not being named, reveals that Noah could be getting around
R10 million ($1.2 million) a year for an endorsement like this.
So with this major endorsement deal, huge performance venues where each person attending forks out anything between R120 ($15) to R200 ($25) for a single ticket, TV shows and MC work, why is it that Noah doesn’t even want to consider listing his company, Ark Angel Entertainment?
“I am where I am today because I focused on my craft. I don’t see the people who come to my shows as numbers. I have chosen instead to surround myself with business-minded people who will worry about the numbers while I continue to worry about perfecting my craft,” says the man who insists that his only real wealth lies in ideas and jokes that are guaranteed to make you laugh.
“I’m not big on property or cars. What’s the point of owning a fleet of cars when you can only drive one at a time? I’m actually very ‘liquid’ when it comes to my investments, mainly because I am a nomad who believes that things like property tie one to a particular place.”
Well, with over 180,000 fans on social network Twitter, it seems Trevor Noah’s enthusiasts will be following him wherever his work takes him. It was Soweto yesterday and LA today, but it’s definitely going be somewhere else tomorrow.

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