Imagine arriving at a huge hall expecting the kind of crowd that comes with an international music star, only to find three chairs waiting for you.
That was Akon’s experience during what he described as one of the strangest performances of his career - a private booking he says was worth $3 million (about R48.8 million).
The singer recently shared the story, although he did not identify the family who hired him.
"I can't say for which family it was for but for the most part of it, it was the craziest thing because they booked me for 3 million dollars," he said.
The scale of the event seemed to match the fee. Akon described arriving at a huge castle and being treated like an artist preparing for a major production, with the kind of backstage arrangements and attention you would expect before a big performance.
But something didn't quite add up.
"I go in and I get ready for the show and everything. It was interesting because the castle was so big but I didn't hear any music."
Then came the reveal.
"They walk me to this huge hall but there's only three chairs... three people came, the daughter, the son and the wife."
Three people.
For a performer accustomed to arenas, festivals and packed venues, it is an unusual audience to say the least. Yet private performances operate by a different set of rules.
And there was another difference: the audience could make requests. Akon said the daughter was a major fan and repeatedly asked him to perform "Mr Lonely" again. So he did.
The song became less of a set-list choice and more of a personalised request, with Akon singing it for about an hour as she kept asking for "again, again".
That detail says quite a bit about what can happen when an artist is performing privately. At a public concert, the set list, running time and production are largely fixed.
Here, the audience of one family could shape the performance around what they wanted to hear. The booking wasn't simply for Akon to arrive and perform; it gave the family a level of access and personalisation that a conventional concert ticket cannot offer.
The very fact that someone can spend millions of rands on a single performance is a reminder of the gap between how most people experience live music and how it can be experienced at the highest end of the wealth scale.
For most concertgoers, seeing a major international artist involves buying a ticket, planning transport, standing in a queue and joining thousands of other fans once the lights go down.
The crowd is part of the experience. You are there with strangers who know the same songs, sing the same lyrics and react to the same moments.
A private concert removes that shared experience.
The artist comes to you.
Akon's story also raises a more interesting question about what is actually being purchased. His songs are already available to millions of listeners. His performances can be watched by huge audiences around the world.
What money can buy at this level is something much harder to access: proximity, exclusivity and a personalised experience.
For a family with the means to spend that kind of money, the value may lie less in the music itself than in being able to bring an internationally recognised artist into their own world.
That is where Akon's story becomes more than an amusing tale about an unusually small audience. It offers a glimpse into how extreme wealth can change the relationship between audiences and entertainment.
For most people, a concert means being one face in a crowd.
At the highest end, wealth can make the crowd disappear altogether.
Akon's three chairs may have looked empty compared with the stadiums he is used to filling. But they also represent something most concertgoers will never have: the ability to turn a public performance into a private experience, with the artist there solely because you can afford to bring him to you.
bernelee.vollmer@nationalmg.co.za