Last week’s episode of Nandi and the Rev had tongues wagging with a dramatic conclusion that would make Jerry Springer salivate.

Insults and kettles were flying across the room like it was a Black Friday sale, and two families were divided with the Rev caught right in the middle of the chaos.

Watching that explosive moment unfold had me thinking about the children in that home (all seven of them) who not only had to witness that violence but will also grow up with their most painful family moments documented for the world to see in 4K.

These aren’t just scenes for the rest of us to react to online; they are lived experiences that will stay with those children long after the cameras stop rolling.

It made me wonder if we, as viewers, are grabbing the popcorn and enjoying the spectacle at the expense of the people actually living it.

Have we become so desensitised to conflict that we no longer see the human cost behind what we call entertainment?

We all love a peek behind the curtain. There’s something captivating about seeing what happens behind the white picket fences and perfectly curated social media feeds and Mzansi Magic understands that curiosity very well and has turned it into must-watch television through its Sunday “family dynamics” slot.

The channel has found success with shows like Izingane Zes’thembu, Life With Moshe, and the smash hit The Bala Family, which pulled audiences in with its authenticity and emotional depth.

The latest addition to that lineup, Nandi and the Rev, follows self proclaimed “it girl” and dare I say, Facebook terrorist Nandipha “Queen Nandi” Mlombi, who has proven to have a tongue as sharp as blades that will cut anyone in her sight, especially her husband, Reverend Mawuzole Mlombi.

The show promised an intimate look into their marriage, faith, and family life, but what started as a wholesome peek into their relationship and seeing them rebuilding what they have lost – because of Nandi’s online antics mind you, has quickly turned into a battleground for unresolved tensions and outpours of trauma and abuse. In recent episodes, family disputes have taken centre stage, exposing everything from financial woes to parental conflicts.

What could have been a story of redemption, healing, spirituality and faith has instead become a case study in how unresolved pain can spill over when cameras are watching.

And while this might make for gripping TV, the question that lingers is what kind of impact it has on the children involved. It’s one thing for adults to consent to sharing their personal lives, but the kids don’t get that choice.

They are simply swept up in the storm, their emotions and family dynamics turned into talking points for social media commentary which years from now, they’ll have access to. These episodes and the online discourse around them are now a digital time capsule of their family’s most turbulent moments.

Every family would love to have their own Keeping Up With The Kardashians moment. The idea of documenting your life, building a brand, and turning family stories into fame and fortune is tempting.

But what made The Kardashians work wasn’t just the glitz or the drama, it was the control they had over their narrative.

They decided what to show and what to hide which many of our local families on reality TV don’t get to decide, and that’s where the danger lies because weekly we see the toxicity rear its ugly head.

So, as much as Nandi and the Rev keeps us entertained, it also forces us to confront a difficult question: are family reality shows doing more damage than good?

Beyond the ratings and retweets, there are real people and real children whose lives are being shaped by these portrayals. And when family becomes content, the line between authenticity and exploitation starts to blur.

Maybe it’s time we ask ourselves if the entertainment is worth the emotional toll.