Comedian Yasin Barnes invites audiences to set aside the seriousness of daily life during his new performance, 'Just Jokes'. He notes that South Africans have a unique way of coping with life—they turn it into a joke.
This humorous approach can surface in the middle of a serious conversation, in a family WhatsApp group, or while complaining about something that five minutes ago didn't elicit a laugh. Furthermore, phrases might switch from English to Afrikaans, incorporate slang, and eventually everyone might start laughing.
For Barnes, this instinct is an integral part of the humor inherent to South Africans. His style often revolves around creating the feeling that the listener knows where the phrase is going, but then it unexpectedly veers into a completely different direction.
He compares his dry humor to a 'magic trick': 'You think about one thing, and suddenly it becomes something else.' As an example, he offers the absurd phrase: 'It's like I took my Black Cat for a walk, and then peanut butter in the cupboard.'
The reference to the 'Black Cat' is understandable to South Africans, but Barnes clarifies that he is not referring to a pet, but to a brand of peanut butter, which makes the idea of walking it even more comical. His humor works by allowing absurdity to exist until the audience grasps its connection to the mundane, such as a brand on a South African kitchen counter.
Moreover, Barnes' comedy heavily relies on the language that many South Africans use unconsciously. On stage, he strives to unite various aspects of identity—colourism, Muslim identity, South African-ness, and Cape Malay flavour—through manner of speech, not just content.
Barnes constantly employs 'code-switching,' meaning switching between languages within a single conversation. For South Africans, this switching between English and Afrikaans, using slang, or employing phrases understood by one group but not another, is not unusual. He believes that language is critical for a joke to 'land'.
Manner of speaking, tone, and delivery can give the audience insight into the storyteller and their connection to the topic. Some jokes might transcend South Africa, but others are so dependent on slang or cultural references that they lose meaning in translation. Without language, the climax of the joke can sometimes be lost, as a single word might carry a reference to a neighbourhood, family dynamics, or an entire culture, and for those who understand, this happens before the comedian finishes the line.
The idea that sometimes just jokes are enough lies at the heart of Barnes' new stand-up show, 'Just Jokes', which will take place at the Star Theatre in District Six in Homecoming Centre from August 28th to 29th.
Although the title is simple, the motivation behind the show, according to Barnes, relates to what many people feel. He notes that we see sad stories and news daily that can dampen spirits. He wants 'Just Jokes' to provide a necessary break.
South Africans skillfully find humour amidst chaos, complaining about traffic, petrol prices, politics, and the cost of living, after which someone says something ridiculous, and the mood shifts. Barnes emphasizes that humour does not have to solve problems to offer people relief from having to think about them.
Barnes explains that his previous performances were partly aimed at proving his comedic ability, whereas 'Just Jokes' reminds people that they should stop taking themselves too seriously and have more fun. This shift is important to him. The show is less about proving anything and more about giving people permission to switch off for a couple of hours.
He describes this experience as a 'hol-e-day,' where 'hol' means ass, promising the audience a day unlike a tourist brochure. This is an example of what he has always said: take something ordinary, change it slightly, and trust the audience.
South Africans do this instinctively: they tease loved ones, turn awkward moments into stories, and use humour to make even the most irritating parts of daily life more bearable. 'Just Jokes' doesn't promise to fix the news, the economy, or the pressure of daily life; it offers two hours where these things can be put aside and stopped being taken seriously. For Barnes, the path to this light state lies in what is already familiar to South Africans: language, culture, shared references, and the ability to laugh at oneself.