Before I go into my musings and rants about my experience with Herstory, I have to talk about a piece of theatre that has shaken me to the core. Nirbhaya truly stood out for me this festival. I cried so much that I left the show with a headache. Heck the last time I saw people all bawling in a show like this was Passion Of the Christ, and even that doesn’t come close! I promised myself I would attend the cast’s forum the following morning but I woke up with a massive headache and decided not to force matters – especially since I may end up bawling again and make things worse. What a brave piece. What brave women. What inspiration to also want to be, Nirbhaya – Fearless. It made me look inward in a way I haven’t before. I am a firm believer in synchronicity. I started my day out at Amnesty International’s secret Podcast and ended up at Nirbhaya, which I went to watch with absolutely no idea of what it was about. I wanted to see it because Japjit, a friend I made in London years ago, is in the play. What both these events did for me was look beyond the fodder of my comedy and interrogate my intent. These events have probably changed my life and direction forever. 

On a lighter note, my last two shows have been equally satisfying. I have lost all that apologetic bull that came with self-doubt, and I am consistently selling my product with confidence. I face my audience head-on. No more looking over their heads and avoiding the guy who’s just staring at me in the audience. The filter between my brain and mouth is still non-existent, so I have learnt to keep the brain focussed on the job at hand and stop behaving like a child with the attention span of a gnat. I have begun to win the men over more. I had noticed with mild trepidation that I was losing the men in my audience, and made a conscious effort to include them more. I wasn’t male-bashing, but i certainly did seem to be speaking French to them while the ladies were doubled over, tickled by ridiculous familiarity. Only thing still confusing me is how come the majority of my audience seems middle-aged and older…

Last night was made a little difficult by the persistent headache that began in the afternoon. And as  the exciting world of pregnancy would have it, the only thing I could take was paracetamol. I would have much preferred the roundhouse kick of something with codeine to get straight to the point. Then just as the show started I realised my bladder was full. Oh joy. I tell you, in the oddest way these two things forced me into such a focussed show lol! The brain put the bladder and pain-delivery guys on hold, with some soothing holding music and continued with the show. The audience spoke back to me and I knew, they feel at home. Not heckled, literally took part and sat back. What more could I ask for? I am so glad this journey is ending with endless tales of triumph and new lessons, not all of them painful. 

Tonight, at exactly the same time I start my show, is the beginning of the Comics Choice Awards in Johannesburg. I have been battling bouts of FOMO (fear of missing out) and also suddenly realising how much I would love to win. Chances are slim, but the desire is there nonetheless. I can’t wait to tell my audience about it, and tell them to laugh hard enough to make me feel like a winner, because it would suck to lose twice in one night LOL! 

To ALL the CCA nominees, good luck. Remember, a nomination still looks good on your bio. It means your peers and fans have stood up and taken notice. Grin when the other guy wins, nobody will know whether you are gritting your teeth or have a weird smile. And please, for the love of comedy, could someone jump on stage when I don’t win and pull a Kanye West, ala “I’ma let you finish, but Tumi Morake is the best comedienne ever. Best. Comedienne. Ever! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!