His father's a politician, his brother's a doctor and Daliso Chaponda was destined to become a reverend. But he enjoys sinning too much. So the funnyman from Malawi became a comedian.

We speak to him about his sitcom family, his paranoia, joking at inappropriate times, xenophobia and being deported from Canada.

When did you first realise you're funny?

I realised I was funny in my teenage years, it was sort of a defence mechanism. But I first realised I could make a living from it around the year 2000.

When you say, a defence mechanism…

Oh, bullies. Believe it or not. It's a comedy cliché but, really, I first started making jokes to distract people: better to make them laugh than have them beat you up.

And what happened in 2000?

In 2000 I was studying in Canada and there was an open mic night. Since I was always writing fiction, I gave it a shot and as soon as I had that one experience, it was addictive.

What exactly is addictive about it?

I come up with these weird ideas and as a person who comes up with weird, bizarre ideas about politics and the world, nobody ever wanted to listen to me. You can't stop someone on the street and say: 'This is what I think about the state of the world! This is what I think is wrong and this is what I think is right!' But in a comedy club you've got a captive audience and because it's humorous, it's not like a lecture so they want to listen to you.

But what happens if people don't laugh at your stuff?

It happened when I was starting out and it hurts. But at the same time it's a pretty low stress job. If I fail in my job, a few people don't laugh; if a doctor fails, somebody dies.

How do you make your comedy universal?

I write specific jokes about specific things in every country I'm in, but there's a lot of universal stuff which translates everywhere. Everybody has families, everybody has relationships, everybody has sex, everybody has been embarrassed. So those kinds of jokes work everywhere. I've also found that stories are something that translate everywhere. Things like puns and satire are more specific to one country than another, but a funny story's a funny story everywhere.

You say that you write unique material for every country you perform in. Have you written anything now that you're here?

Yeah, I've put in some stuff about xenophobia, the Scorpions being disbanded, things like that.

What's your take on the xenophobia issue?

The serious one is, it's very worrying and depressing stuff. It's just another form of prejudice and in a country which has a history of prejudice it's just sad. The humour that I've drawn from it is from the fact that, as a foreigner, I was here a few weeks ago and I've just made fun of the fear that I felt, because my fear actually got to a point where it was beyond logical. I was walking around trying to mask my foreign accent. It's easy to panic — you watch stuff on television and it will affect things like tourism because, while I was here, I was actually worried because I'm Malawian.

So what would be going too far for you in comedy? Is there anything you wouldn't tackle?

I always think I have to have a personal take on it, so I do jokes about some offensive subjects but only when it involves me. For example, I'm religious and I can make fun of my religion but I will rarely make fun of other peoples' religion. I might mention it and talk about one or two things but always having a personal angle. You've got to have a valid reason to have an opinion on it.

When you're on stage what's the best way to deal with hecklers?

I don't actually rip them apart like a lot of comedians. I deal with them by taking them into my sense of paranoia. Like if I was heckled here, my response, because of what just happened with the xenophobic attacks, would be: 'Is this because I'm Malawian?' So generally that's what I'll do — instead of attacking them I'll make it seem like I'm seeing it in a different way.

In your day-to-day life do you feel a pressure to be funny?

I do, especially with the women. But at the same time I think that's why I'm funny — I started trying to please strangers long ago. So now it's very much part of who I am.

So the guy we see on stage is the same guy we'd see out and about?

Yes, I'm not really a character. I'm probably a bit funnier on stage because I've written jokes. But I can't turn it off and that's very inconvenient in things like relationships because there are times when people want to be romantic and I'll just do a punchline.

What makes you laugh?

My family makes me laugh because they're just such characters and very over the top. My dad's a politician and full of crazy stories, my brother's a doctor of course with a licence to kill. They're very much caricatures, like characters in a sitcom. I had no choice but to become a comedian.

What are your interests outside comedy?

I do a lot of writing, I write fiction, I do a lot of rap music. I've recorded a few songs, sort of underground stuff — comedy's really been where I've found success. I still do all the other arts — I've published a few short stories — but my biggest success so far has been comedy because it comes naturally to me.

And what was the last thing that you laughed at?

Sugar Sammy and I started out performing together, years and years ago in Canada. And he's on the bill here, so I just met him about an hour ago and we started talking again. So the last thing I laughed about was reminiscing about my time in Canada before I was deported from the country. So we were discussing me being deported and how I thought that was the end of my comedy career. And here we are, a few years later, on a different continent, making jokes together.

You were deported from Canada?

Yeah, it was my fault. I was there as a student and I'd discovered comedy, which was wonderful, but I wasn't allowed to be getting paid. So I was making money and doing something other than studying, so they caught me, I tried to argue it, I put on a show called 'Don't let them deport me' and it was great, but they still said I had to go.

So what did you do?

Basically I was gone from Canada, so I started again in South Africa for a while and then in England. I had to start again from scratch but I had more experience now so it actually took a very short time. And actually I think it was great because it was something they understood — it's not like I was kicked out for terrorism or anything like that — so it was like a slap on the hand.