The hardest crowd I've ever played is a Ghanaian family meeting

People ask me which audience is the toughest.

They expect me to say a corporate event — two hundred people in suits who laughed once in 2014 and are still recovering. Or a university crowd who will heckle you in three languages.

No. The hardest room I have ever worked is a Ghanaian family meeting.

The setup

Nobody tells you the agenda. You receive a phone call: "Come to the house on Sunday. We are meeting."

Meeting about what? Nobody knows. You arrive and there are eleven uncles seated in plastic chairs arranged like a tribunal. One uncle you have never seen before in your life is sitting in the middle. He is apparently the most senior.

The opening

In comedy, you must win the room in the first thirty seconds. At a family meeting, the room must not be won. You must look serious. If you smile, an auntie will say "Oh, so it's funny to you?"

It is, auntie. Professionally, it is extremely funny to me. But I keep my face straight like a man reading a prescription.

The heckling

On stage, a heckler shouts one thing and you destroy him. At a family meeting, the heckling is continuous, overlapping, and entirely about you.

• "You are always on TV but you don't visit."
• "You are a doctor, but you are doing jokes. Which one is it?"
• "When are you going to bring somebody?"

Bring somebody where? To this? I love her too much.

The closer

After three hours, the most senior uncle — the one I have never met — finally speaks.

"We have heard everything. We will meet again."

That's it. That's the show. No resolution. No punchline. Just a sequel announcement.

And you know what? It sold out again the next month. Same cast. Same chairs.

Still better attendance than some of my early gigs, to be honest.