From NYC to NCC: Shafi’s hilarious homecoming

Bangladeshis have a heartwarming way of embracing and cherishing what they perceive as their own, even if it isn't wholly "Bangladeshi" by definition. There's something deeply touching about the spirit of homecoming when it comes to us. 

Take the recent case of Hamza Chowdhury, for instance—a footballer of Bangladeshi origin hailing from Sylhet, who plays in the prestigious Premier League, considered one of the toughest football leagues in the world. 

When he officially announced his decision to represent Bangladesh instead of England, he was met with overwhelming enthusiasm and pride from millions throughout the country.

For NYC-based comedian Shafi Hossain, this weekend was nothing short of a proper homecoming as well. It was mostly because this time around, he returned not as the boy who left years ago, but as a globe-trotting Bangladeshi-American comedian to perform in front of his people.

"We know Bangladeshis aren't yet the most astute consumers of comedy, but that's only because it's still so new here. It's a two-way street. It's up to us comedians as well to elevate the audience, helping them consistently expect and enjoy smarter comedy. In ten years, this scene can only grow bigger and better."

Shafi Hossain

The 120 present (read: sold out) at Naveed's Comedy Club (NCC), who mostly knew him from funny Instagram reels, exploded in cheers when host Naveed Mahbub announced his name. 

Okay, maybe not 'CR7-returning-to-Manchester-United' levels of homecoming, but still, it was a rare ovation for a part-time chemical engineer, full-time comic who's probably more accustomed to reactions from Bunsen burners than live audiences.

"I was actually blown away," said Shafi backstage, barely 15 minutes after finishing the second of his four sold-out shows.

Photo: Mehedi Hasan

"I went in with no idea what to expect. I rarely perform hour-long sets, and I've never had the chance to perform for an all-Bangladeshi or all-brown audience. But their response and the turnout absolutely blew me away," he added.

To be fair, the audience wasn't entirely sure what to expect from Shafi either. Watching a comedy special on YouTube or chuckling at his 40-second Instagram clips is one thing, but experiencing a comedian perform a full hour-long set live is a whole different story—especially for a Dhaka crowd that rarely gets to enjoy such lengthy comedy shows live.

And that's where context and references come into play. When you joke about something relevant and familiar to the audience, it's not too hard to draw a few laughs.

"In my US, Canada, and Europe shows, audiences usually get all the pop culture references. I wasn't sure if that would work here, but after my first show, I realised how smart and receptive the crowd was—they truly understand and enjoy stand-up comedy!" said Shafi.

At NCC, Shafi leaned heavily into some good old-fashioned 'Dhaka bashing' for providing relevant context to his Dhaka crowd. 

One of his early jokes poked fun at how you can instantly tell a plane is packed with Bangladeshis— the second the landing gear hits the tarmac, they're unbuckling, grabbing their carry-ons, and trying to sprint off like Usain Bolt—only to spend three hours waiting at baggage claim for their 20 bags and prized Lindt chocolates.

"Bangladeshis love their Lindt, don't they? Even my mom asks me to bring some, but she won't buy them from Unimart because 'the ones in Dhaka are bhejal!" Shafi quipped, playfully roasting Bangladeshi habits and brown moms being quintessential brown moms.

Another highlight of Shafi's set was his hilarious crowd work—a style the audience was familiar with but rarely experiences live, as Dhaka-based comics don't often delve into it as much. Most had only seen such interactions on their phones, watching famous international comedians pull it off.

Shafi effortlessly engaged with the crowd, at one point roasting a couple who met online playing Valorant. When he asked the boyfriend if they ever played against each other, the guy casually replied, "Yes, when we're on opposite teams." Shafi pounced on the vague and anticlimactic response, delivering a roast that had the crowd in stitches.

"My crowd work isn't always intended for crowd work—I always have an underlying joke I'm trying to set up," Shafi explained.

"I'll ask a question, and if someone responds in a funny way, I'll roll with it and improvise. It's like playing a sport; it keeps you in the moment, and I really enjoy that. It's kind of like fishing—if someone takes the bait, I just have fun with it. That's how I design my shows."

What stood out most about Shafi's set was its effortless organicity and sharp relevance. While he dreams of crafting shows layered with philosophical anecdotes and ideological musings, for Dhaka, he kept it relatable—bits everyone could connect with. Even during pop culture references, he found ways to make them hilariously specific.

At one point, he joked about crime documentaries, admitting he binges on them but has stopped learning anything new. "If I directed true crime docs, I'd make them educational—like figuring out what Ted Bundy's victims had in common beyond being women, so people know how to stay safe," he quipped.

Or take his bit about Spotify Wrapped, where he wondered, "If adult sites had their own version, what twisted categories would show up in my highlights?"

Before wrapping up around midnight—while an eager crowd still waited to snap selfies with him—we discussed Shafi's take on the audience, the budding comedy scene in Bangladesh, and its potential for growth.

"We know Bangladeshis aren't yet the most astute consumers of comedy, but that's only because it's still so new here," Shafi said. "It's a two-way street. It's up to us comedians as well to elevate the audience, helping them consistently expect and enjoy smarter comedy. I walked in with zero expectations, but the love and engagement I saw was incredible. In ten years, this scene can only grow bigger and better," Shafi concluded.