When Joe White first came to Australia, he did not speak a lick of English.
His only real cue to join conversations was when somebody asked him about the name he was given at birth — Tiluhun Hailu.
It was hard for him to fit in with an unfamiliar name in a predominantly white school in Perth.
"When I was playing soccer in the [school's] youth group, the guys couldn't pronounce my name, but they needed a name to call so I'd pass the ball," he said.
As his Australian accent grew stronger, and because he was going by Joe, people he spoke to on the phone often assumed he was white.
Since then, he's gone by the name Joe White.
According to the comedian, his family have always told him he was funny.
But his humour developed as a coping mechanism during the years of hardship his family faced after fleeing a violent civil war in Ethiopia to neighbouring Sudan.
When he was seven years old his father abruptly left the family after a night of heavy drinking, leaving his mother to raise six kids alone.
White said his father felt burdened by the devastation of losing everything he'd worked for in Ethiopia and resorted to alcoholism.
"He was not the loving father that we remembered anymore," he said.
"[Alcoholism] was his way of dealing with the demons that came with knowing you've just lost everything."
With seven mouths to feed and no income, White's mum applied to leave Africa entirely to ensure her kids a safer future in Australia.
"Our neighbour had mentioned that if she goes to Khartoum, the capital city of Sudan, there is a United Nations Office where she can put her case forward and maybe get a go at a better life," White said.
His family waited four years before hearing anything about their application.
He has said during that time, the family would tie themselves together with rope and clothes while they slept to prevent kidnapping.
"Getting approved to come here [to Australia] was like winning Lotto for us," he said.
New culture, new jokes
White said he ended up adapting to life in Australia a lot easier than he'd expected.
With government support, he picked up English quickly, completed school and secured a job in finance.
"Every day I'd be in a tie, I had a company car, I got a credit card. It was sweet," he said.
While everything may have looked good on paper, it was the breakdown of a 10-year relationship that had him reconsidering his career path.
It was a skeptical reading with a psychic that encouraged him to jump into a completely new industry and give comedy a shot.
"I just thought this woman was telling me what she told the last five people before me," he said.
"But I was going through this phase, where I was trying everything to tick boxes to find my purpose so I thought it couldn't hurt."
His jokes are mainly inspired by his past and the transition to life in Australia, which he said he hoped would foster more empathy for refugees.
Most of all, his time on stage is a way to honour his mother — even if she's sometimes the punchline.
When he started his career about a decade ago, White often found himself being the only person of colour in a line-up.
His mum was hesitant about him leaving a stable career in finance for comedy, but she eventually came around.
That support has meant the world, especially in the early days of trying to break into the industry.
"While I was new, it was quite competitive. Especially if I did well, some people really weren't welcoming," he said.
Now internationally touring and sharing theatres with the likes of Trevor Noah and Jim Carr, White has overcome a lot of those initial barriers.
He now tries to give back to the African communities that gave him the confidence to do what he does.
"Whether it's donating money or mentoring new comics, I don't forget the core reason which is to tell my story," he said.
African comedians taking centre stage
White has been enthusiastically encouraging young African comics to also enter Australia's comedy scene.
In 2019, he put together Best of Africa, a multi-state live stand-up comedy show.
It was showcased at the Melbourne International Comedy Festival and the Perth Fringe World Festival.
"People see there's demand for African line-ups," he said.
"It's still very challenging to get on certain platforms sometimes because there are gatekeepers, so I made my own."
A small but loyal community of African comedians was starting to build in Melbourne.
Chido Mwat, a medical doctor from Melbourne who migrated to Australia in 2012 from Zimbabwe, said she was never the class clown.
But she was always drawn to comedy as it pushed her out of her comfort zone.
"I can be a bit awkward sometimes. Through the years, I've found ways to navigate that — comedy being the main way," she said.
After a few sets at open mic nights across Melbourne, Mwat offered to open for some of White's shows.
This small community became crucial for Mwat as she had not told her family about her career choice. To this day her father doesn't know she does stand up.
"My parents are from a place where education is your key to financial stability, so they always wanted me to focus on being a doctor," she said.
"No one forced me to do anything, I don't regret it, but it was time to do something I wanted to."
Since starting comedy, she said she saw the progress the Australian comedy scene has made and was optimistic about its future.
"I felt like I was the only black female, so then I didn't feel empowered at that point in time," she said.
