The night MAFS producers lost control: It was supposed to be a quiet party. It ended with blazing rows, paranoia and the cast in lockdown… and ALI DAHER recorded everything

It started off with a rebellious bride sliding into my DMs just two weeks into filming. And it wasn’t the usual gossip or whinge about her husband that I’m used to.

Instead, her message read: ‘Hey, where are you? We’re all going out right now. We’re going to be at the same place at the same time. So it would be funny if you just happened to be there, wouldn’t it?’

Subtle.

I’m known as Australia’s most well-connected MAFS reporter. I spend several months of the year staking out the Sydney hotel where they film the show, then the next few months covering everything that happens on and off screen.

I was supposed to be working from home that day, but knowing there was potentially a story about the upcoming MAFS season, I was tempted to duck out.

But the problem was, I didn’t want to schlep all the way across town just to snap some dull photos of the cast members walking into a venue. So I told the bride, ‘Look, I’m slammed, but if it’s worth it, maybe I’ll come. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ 

But, as luck would have it, I changed my mind, and a few hours later, there I was, laptop in tow, walking into what I thought would be a casual UFC viewing party.

Yes, the very same UFC night that was mentioned on Wednesday’s episode of MAFS as the moment Sierah first started to ‘open up’ to Adrian.

Awhina Rutene (yes, that Awhina) had promised it was going to be ‘just a few of us’. That was a lie.

Now, I don’t think she’ll be mad at me for outing her as the bride who tipped me off. In fact, she was happy to tell her co-stars and producers we were friends, so hopefully she’ll forgive me.

Soon after arriving, any semblance of this being a ‘quiet’ catch-up went out the window. It was a full-blown, chaotic MAFS reunion – with no producers in sight.

I didn’t think to take photos at first. But it soon became apparent this was going to be exactly the sort of unsanctioned gathering MAFS producers loathe – so I grabbed my camera from my bag.

By lunchtime I figured I deserved a break. One drink turned into two, two into three, and before I knew it, we were doing shots. (Thanks for your shout by the way, Tony.)

And that’s when things really kicked off. 

One by one, more cast members arrived.

Morena texted, wondering where we were, so we invited her down.

That was a bad idea. Because the moment she walked in, she locked eyes with her ‘husband’ Tony, and let’s just say they had some awkward, unresolved issues.

She was angry at Tony for telling her he had gone to Wollongong to see his dog, when in fact he’d come back to Sydney early to spend time with the cast.

Instead of smoothing things over, they immediately started bickering that he would come back to hang out with the rest of the cast, but not her.

Then Morena stormed out in a huff.

Five minutes later, my phone rang. It was Morena again, clearly distressed, because her ‘maps app wasn’t working’, and she couldn’t find her way back to the hotel.

‘Can’t you try using a different map app? or just get an Uber?’ I asked, hoping to stay put because, at this point, I was three drinks deep.

Meanwhile, Jamie and Dave had entered the paranoia stage of their night. They were convinced – rightly so – that they were about to get in serious trouble for having an unsanctioned night out with a Daily Mail reporter.

To be fair, Jamie didn’t want me there (she always wanted to do the right thing by production and the network, bless her).

So they huddled in the corner, whispering about whether we were being watched, and openly wondered if Morena was going to dob them in to the producers.

As the hours went by, drinks flowed, secrets spilled, and by the time everyone was meant to be back at their accommodation, the situation had spiralled.

Whoops.

But there’s more.

After ditching the first venue, we all ended up back at Adrian’s nearby apartment – having, of course, made a pit stop at Dan Murphy’s.

By this point, Dave and Jamie had decided to call it and headed home – good on them for trying to do the right thing – but the rest weren’t going anywhere.

Then the doorbell rang. Feeling mischievous, I decided to answer it.

It was Jacqui and Ryan, ready to party.

I was laughing, they were laughing. They’re probably going to be furious with me for this, because up until now their rule-breaking had been kept a secret from producers.

At some point, Awhina fell asleep, so I did the decent thing and covered her up with a blanket.

Meanwhile, the clock struck 9:55pm. The widely ignored cast curfew was close by and it was time for them to Uber back to their accommodation.

As word about the party spread, production demanded Adrian hand over footage from his phone the next morning – completely oblivious to the fact I had captured it all. Everyone had got blasted, except for him. Nice work, Adrian.

At the dinner party the next night, a senior producer strolled into the warehouse and casually asked me if I had fun watching the UFC. They clearly knew what had happened.

I just grinned. ‘Yeah, it was fun.’

And that, my friends, is how the entire cast ended up in lockdown, banned from leaving their rooms for the entirety of the next day.