The creation of the House of Yanos was unexpected — for everyone, including the founders (as you will discover below) and the African community. But it was clear that it was something everyone needed. This became obvious when the organisers expected 80 attendees at their first event, but more than 450 people showed up.

We spoke with Farai Machingura, co-founder of HOY, and heard… a lot of incredible (and weird!) stories about what happened before the launch, as well as exciting plans for the future.

— First, I have to ask the silliest question: How many ushankas do you own? And why did they become such an essential part of your image?

— Funny enough, with the hat, I have ended up receiving one as a gift every couple of months now. People see a hat and think of me, so they buy it for me. I think I have about 10 of them in my house! It is crazy, but the whole hat thing started when I began MCing. It was totally by accident. The MC at the event wasn’t really vibing with the crowd, so I stepped in. I had seen my brother MC before and thought, “I can do this.” Even though I had never been on the mic before, it was scary, but I figured if I just pretended to be him, I would be fine.

I asked for a cap and some shades because I was shy, thinking they would help me feel more confident. From then on, I started wearing caps. One day, I saw this Adidas sale and found a white hat. I thought it was so cool — everyone should be wearing it! They only had two left, so I bought both. The first time I wore it while performing, everyone went nuts. They kept asking, "Where did you get that hat?" Since then, it has become my thing. Now, people recognise me by the hat. When I’m not wearing it, they will say, "We didn’t even recognise you!" 

— Next one! You have had the nickname Toqsic for many years now. Have you ever thought about changing it?

Funny enough, someone actually offered to buy my Instagram name. Some guy from Europe reached out and said he would pay me 40 pounds for it. At that time, I wasn’t even using the name much, and this was before I started MCing. I thought, "You know what, 40 pounds wouldn’t be bad." But the person who convinced me not to sell it was Wallace. So, I decided to keep it.

— I was also surprised to find out you have kids! Balancing fatherhood with such a hectic career must be quite the challenge, right?

— I have got three kids — two baby girls and one baby boy. Not a lot of people know that, but yeah, being a dad is, honestly, my calling. I love it. They are amazing little souls, and the best part is, they all look like me! And yeah, once they turn 16, they all get hats because, you know, hats are my thing.

I'm not gonna lie; it is very difficult to combine the role of a father and a job. I struggle with it all the time because the more I push my career forward, the more it demands from me. Right now, we are opening a whole new venue, and that is pulling a lot of my time and energy. Between performing and everything else, I have to schedule time for my family, friends, and even personal time just to have some “me time.” It is tough, but planning things out definitely helps, at least a little.

I'm really grateful to have a solid team around me. Having that support is huge because there are times when I just feel exhausted, and they totally get it. They step in and take care of the business side when I need a break, which helps a lot.

— Let's go back for a moment to Marondera, the city where you were born. You once called it one of the best places in the world. Could you tell me more about it?

— I genuinely love it because it is peaceful and wholesome. It is not as busy as the capital, but it is also not as isolated as a remote area — it is just the perfect balance.

Marondera has so much to offer. Some of the best schools in Zimbabwe, especially private ones, are located there. It is a blend of farmland, industrial areas, and even some pretty cool mountain ranges. It is a small town where everyone knows each other, but at the same time, it has a lot of history — especially when it comes to Zimbabwean folktales and national history.

And let’s not forget the people! Some of the most talented people I know come from Marondera, which makes it even more special. Of course, I am biased because it is where I grew up, but to me, it is the best town in the world. It is unique, it is home, and it is incredibly comfortable.

The weather is great too! You get real seasons — when it is winter, it feels like winter, and when it is summer, it is truly summer. If it is cold, it is really cold, and if it is hot, it is really hot. That is something I love about it.

— Once, you mentioned that your siblings travelled a lot, and it felt like you were raised mostly on your own. Who were your parents, and what kind of house did you grow up in?

— Wow, I love that. My family has an interesting story. I will start with my parents. My dad was in the trucking business, and his journey was similar to mine in many ways. He was born in a very remote area, but one day, he decided to hustle and pursue his goals. He had nothing; everything was stacked against him, but he made it work. He moved to the capital and got into the trucking industry, eventually working for a big Dutch company. This job had him travelling between Holland, Germany, and other major countries involved in the motor industry. Because of this, we were solidly middle class — not filthy rich, like minister-level money, but well off. 

Now, my siblings claim I was the spoiled one, but honestly, they were the spoiled ones. I was born seven years after my closest sibling, and by the time I was growing up, most of them had already gone overseas. It was just me, my mom, and my dad at home. My mom was a housewife, but she also had her little ventures. Sometimes, she would say, “I feel like farming,” and she would go manage our little farm near my dad’s hometown.

Eventually, my dad got sick and passed away in 2009. After that, it was just me, my mom, and my nephew, Sticky Strings, a DJ. A few years later, my mom also got sick and passed away. At that point, it was just me and my nephew because all of my siblings and his mom were overseas. The oldest sibling returned to stay with us. He was already well established, having bought houses and cars, so he came back and continued his business in Zimbabwe. Slowly, my other siblings started coming back, too, one by one.

We grew up in a big house, always surrounded by cousins, and I think that is where my mentality of being surrounded by loved ones comes from. I would love to have a big family one day. It is all about support, nurturing, and raising each other. We cousins kind of raised each other, helping each other make sense of things when we didn’t always understand our parents. My childhood was very wholesome, family-centred, and adventurous. That is probably where my love for Marondera comes from — growing up there gave me the freedom to go on all these wild adventures as a kid.

— How often do you go there?

— I haven’t been there for about 9 years now. I started bringing my family over, and now we have about 27 family members who have permanently moved to the UAE. We are quite a lot! My close family is here — my brother, my nephew, and even my sister, who frequently visit from the UK because it is just easier for her to fly in. Most of my cousins are here, too, and my siblings’ children are all based here. So, we didn’t leave much back home, and now we just go back to visit because, well, it is home.

— When I first heard the name House of Yanos, it reminded me of Janus — the Roman god of beginnings and transitions, known for having two faces, one looking to the future and one to the past. Does the name House of Yanos carry any symbolic connection like that?

— No way! Oh man, that is so cool! It is amazing how culture just ties in sometimes, even when it is coincidental. The whole “House of New Beginnings” concept really makes sense, even with your context of the god of beginnings. It still fits perfectly with how we started the House of Yanos.

So, here is just a bit of background on what Yanos is: in South Africa, it is like a nickname for Amapiano. Amapiano is the full name, and Yanos is the street slang version. When you go to a venue, and they are playing Amapiano, it literally means “multiple pianos,” but Yanos refers to just one piano. So, people will say, “Are they playing Yanos in this club?” It has become a common way to refer to Amapiano music.

Initially, I was supposed to buy another brand called House of Africa. But then I thought, even if I bought it, it wouldn’t fully capture what I wanted to do. So, I decided to create something focused solely on Amapiano. That is when I came up with House of Yanos, and it just started making sense from there.

— Before launching House of Yanos, you went through an incredibly difficult time. Could you share more about that for those who might not have seen your previous interviews? How did you push through that, and did this challenging experience fuel the energy and vision behind House of Yanos?

— That is very true. Between February and April 2021, things were just going completely wrong. We were coming out of COVID, and everyone was struggling — people lost their jobs, we owed rent for a year, and it was just chaos. I had to take in my entire family because they couldn’t afford to live on their own anymore. I had a two-bedroom apartment, so some stayed in the living room, others in the spare room, and a few took my room. There were about 11 of us living together.

During lockdown, we made the best of it. We would cook big pots of noodles, fry some cheap sausages, and everyone would eat together. We would spend our days watching movies and talking — it became our life for a while. After COVID, things started getting better. Everyone moved out into their own small spaces, and I thought we were back on track.

But for me, the financial burden of that year fell on my shoulders. I had to deal with rent arrears, loans we took out just to survive, and all sorts of debts. On top of that, I was going through a breakup, and I lost my company — my business partners stole it from me. I was in debt, heartbroken, and my life felt like it was falling apart.

During those tough times, I spent a lot of time with DJ Maro and NAME. We would sit and talk, and they would always remind me that things would get better. After a while, I realised I needed a break, so I took two months off. I stopped being social, stayed at home, and focused on getting my head right. I was depressed, anxious, and breaking down every time I left the house. I knew something had to change.

After that break, something snapped in me. I decided that I was going to create my future. I spent a week brainstorming and came up with four different concepts. I wanted something family-centred, something with a vibe that resonated with me. I made calls and pitched my ideas, and everyone loved them. That is when House of Yanos was born.

I also came up with a few other concepts, like There Goes the Neighborhood and Welcome to Gondwana Land. We have already launched two of them, and they are doing amazing. Next up is Envy, and after that, we will launch Welcome to Gondwana Land next year. These brands came out of one of the toughest periods of my life, and now they are becoming something great.

— We all remember the first House of Yanos event at P7 Parking. You were expecting a few dozen people, but instead, hundreds showed up. At the time, there wasn’t anything quite like House of Yanos, so it really filled a gap. It seems like the community was just waiting for something like this, and you brought exactly what was missing.

— 100%, and I think most people don’t realize that after you create a brand, it doesn’t just take off overnight. It is not like you come up with a great idea, and in two weeks, everyone in the city is talking about it. After creating my brands, everything went downhill. I thought things would get better, but they actually got worse — it hit rock bottom.

Even though I launched the brands in May and started pushing, it wasn’t immediately successful. I had to keep testing and refining what House of Yanos really was, and at first, nothing I did seemed to connect with people. I kept experimenting — trying this and that — and the more I pushed, the more I realized I was still shaping the brand.

It is like forging a sword. At first, it is just a piece of metal, and you put it through intense heat. Then, it is beaten and shaped, little by little, until it starts to resemble what it is meant to be. Then, it is polished and sharpened, and eventually, it is ready. That period from May to December was my “forging” process.

But the funny thing is, as soon as December ended and 2022 started, that is when I felt like everything was ready. It was like the first day of the new year marked the beginning of my real journey, like my sword was finally finished and I was ready to use it. And then, on the very first day of the year, I got arrested.

I mean, who gets arrested on January 1st? It was crazy. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but that moment felt like the final straw — like everything up until that point had been going wrong, even through December. But it was also a turning point for me.

— How many days were you under arrest?

— It was 12 days, and the crazy part was it all came down to a system problem. It all started because of a rental issue from COVID. Normally, it would have been sorted in two or three days — I just needed my lawyer to speak to the land department, get a payment plan, and that would be it. But right around that time, the laws in Dubai were changing, and things like bounced checks were no longer treated as criminal offenses. So, suddenly, there was a flood of people being released, which created a huge backlog.

It took nine days before I even understood why I was there. I was panicking at first, but after a while, I realized there was nothing I could do but wait. Without my phone—which, to be honest, was a major source of anxiety—it was just me and a group of other random people. Some had been arrested at Expo, others for minor things. We started talking, and that time without distractions made me reflect a lot. I began to see that everything I had been through was necessary. It was like I had to go through that moment to wake up and realize I had been approaching things the wrong way.

That period showed me who the real people in my life were. My team didn’t sleep—they worked around the clock, making sure everything was in order. I had moments of panic, but mostly, I tried to stay calm and remind myself that I would be okay.

After 12 days, they were about to transfer me to the main prison. I was trying to get updates from my lawyer, but they told me it could take weeks to hear back from the judge. I was about to be moved, and once that happened, the whole process would have to start over. It was a Friday, so I knew nothing would happen over the weekend, which meant I was looking at even more delays.

The next morning, they started transferring people. We were getting ready to go to the central prison when, out of nowhere, they called my name. They said, "Your bail just came through." I couldn’t believe it — it was like a miracle. No one had told my lawyer or my family, but suddenly, I was being released.

I had no money, my phone was dead, and I had no way of getting home. Thankfully, some guys offered me a ride, and I made it back to my place, only to find that my family had left for the airport. I called my brother, and he couldn’t believe it either. They all thought I would be in there for at least another week or two.

Three days later, I called a meeting with my team. They were ready to help me find a full-time job and move on from events, but I told them, “Give me one last shot. If this event works, great. If not, I’ll get a full-time job.” I had 500 dirhams and a plan.

I reached out to some DJs, but most of them said no. I called in a favour from a DJ I wasn’t even that close with, and he agreed to do it for free. We found a venue, but they only agreed to host us if we could bring 200 people, which felt impossible. But we decided to go for it anyway.

We opened up registration, and within 48 hours, we had 350 sign-ups. I thought it was a glitch, but we double-checked, and it was real. The event was a massive success — 400 people showed up, and we were able to pay the DJs and the hostess and cover all our costs.

That event changed everything, and I realised I didn’t need to give up on events after all.

— A bit about your team: so far, I have only spoken with you and Wallace, but I get the sense that the HOY team is more like a family. Is that true?

— My team is really built around my life journey. It is made up of people who have had an impact on me in some way. There are a lot of family members on the team, as well as my best friends — people I truly trust. Even if some of them lack experience, they make up for it with so much passion. I believe that to do something great and memorable, you need to have a passion for it, and they all have that.

We are like a family, really close-knit. Each team member has their own incredible story, and when you hear how everyone is connected, it all clicks. You have these “Eureka!” moments where you realise, “Ah, that’s why we all fit together so well.”

— Can you share the weirdest story ever?

— The weirdest story was definitely with Wallace. I met him about 10 years ago in Cape Town. He used to go to the gym next to the store where I worked — selling hot dogs and corn dogs. We saw each other almost every day, just a quick wave or “hey,” but we never really talked. Occasionally, he would come in, grab something to eat and leave.

Then, one evening, he decided to sit and eat after his workout. We were both there, listening to music and talking. Suddenly, a customer walks in and places an order. Right after, another guy walks in and starts acting all weird, like trying to rob the first guy in front of us. I’m standing there making the order, and Wallace and I are just looking at each other like, “Do you see what’s happening right now?”

I tried to delay the order as much as I could, hoping more people would come into the store, but no one did. Finally, I gave the guy his order, and the second guy said, “He’s buying me food too.” So the first guy puts his food down and follows him outside, saying he will go to the ATM and come back. At this point, Wallace and I are like, “What the hell is going on?” We tried to signal the security, but nothing really happened.

They eventually came back, and the guy actually bought the second guy a hot dog! Then they both just sat there, chatting like nothing happened, ate their food, and left together. Wallace and I were in shock, like, “Did that really just happen?” That is when we really started talking, and we have been friends ever since. It is crazy — we have witnessed two robberies together!

When I moved here, I told him to follow. He worked in Qatar for a few years, and I convinced him to come to Dubai. Now, we are doing all of this together.

— We recently published an article by Secta about the challenges of arranging parties in Dubai. What challenges did you face in organising House of Yanos events?

— I think the biggest challenge isn’t really a challenge but more about understanding the dynamic. A lot of the concepts and ideas we are introducing come from outside experiences — they are new here. The venues take on most of the risk, so they need to trust in the vision, invest in the space, licensing, and everything else. I get that. But another issue is the perception of entertainment in the city. Entertainment has become about showing the world you are in a certain place or that you can buy certain things. People aren’t enjoying themselves for themselves anymore — they are doing it for others.

That is why when we created Bodega, we wanted to strip all that away. No VIPs, no reservations, no dress codes. Wear what you want, be comfortable, and have fun. But we do have to manage entry carefully, especially to avoid large groups that can disrupt the vibe. It is about finding balance and, more importantly, teaching people how to have fun again.

Some of the best moments at Bodega are when I get on the mic and tell people, “No cell phones, just enjoy this moment.” And those moments are always the most memorable. The real challenge is cutting through the artificial entertainment and getting people back to actually enjoying themselves.

I respect venues that focus on creativity, like One Life and Stick No Bills. They are constantly pushing the envelope with fresh ideas, and I love that. It is all about being authentic. When you are real with your ideas and your concepts, no one can challenge you.

— Now, let’s imagine the House of Yanos in five years. What will it be?

— Okay, let's break it down by brand. Bodega will have four more venues. We will have Bodega Dubai, Bodega Abu Dhabi, Bodega Qatar, and Bodega Cape Town. That is the goal. All four will be connected, using the same DJs, the same platform, and following the same brand principles, but each will be managed independently. 

As for House of Yanos, it will continue to grow as a global platform. We are going to do something big in Dubai, though I don’t like calling it a “festival” because that word’s overused. We are talking about something much larger — within five years, we aim to put together one of the biggest Afrobeats and Amapiano events in the Middle East and Asia. We are not just going to chase festivals in random places like China; I believe in building from home first. This is where House of Yanos was born, and this is where it will grow. Our event will attract more people to Dubai, and once we have nailed it here and in Asia, the rest of the world will follow.

Beyond that, we will keep touring with our DJs, empowering them to perform at festivals globally under the name of the House of Yanos. We are also planning to open a multi-purpose creative space, like a warehouse, that will house all of our departments — whether it is music, fashion, photography, or visual arts, it will all be there. It will be a hub for emerging creatives to connect and grow.

We are also working on House of Yanos Sports, something I’m passionate about because of my nephews, who are between 16 and 19. They are incredibly talented athletes, but they don’t have the inspiration or opportunities to move forward. So, House of Yanos Sports will seek out young talent — whether they are playing for a local football team or pursuing something else — and connect them with brands like Adidas, Saucony, or Birkenstock. The goal is to spotlight these athletes so they can get scouted by bigger teams and brands, eventually building it into an agency that represents young talent, negotiates deals, and helps them navigate their early careers. We will launch that within six months.

Then there is There Goes the Neighborhood, which will be more of a lifestyle experience. We will focus on connecting with international small-scale businesses, especially from places like Cape Town and Durban. We will bring designers here to sell their products — cover their travel and hotel costs — so they can showcase their work in Dubai. We won’t profit from this, but it will help build community and inspire more pro-Afro DJs, designers, and creatives, offering opportunities to those with limited access.

In five years, that is where I see everything headed. That is the vision.

— Also, I saw a project Staff is 86. What is it? 

So, like I mentioned before, during my whole journey, I feel like Staff is 86 is basically a reflection of my life experiences. When I moved from Cape Town to Dubai, I started out as a bartender. It was just the same routine — sleep, work, repeat. I have never really experienced Dubai, which people talk about. For me, it was all work, back-to-back, and even with the money I was making, it wasn’t enough to fully enjoy everything the city had to offer because it was too expensive.

That is why Staff is 86 was created. It is a concept specifically designed for people working in hospitality — people who don’t get weekends off, don’t get holidays. They are expected to work during the best times of the year. But Staff is 86 is that one day, a random Tuesday, where we celebrate them. We throw a party just for them, with 50% off at our events, and we book the best DJs. 

The name itself, Staff is 86, comes from hospitality lingo. In the industry, "86" means something is not available. So if tequila is out, you say "tequila is 86." Here, Staff is 86 means the staff aren’t available — they are out partying. It is about giving those who are always working during prime time the chance to unwind.

Staff is 86 is all about giving those in the service industry — hoteliers, cabin crew, anyone in hospitality — the chance to enjoy a night out, with discounts, great music, and a memorable time.