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Nyanjish
By Chris Jayakaran
After a few Mosis,
my otherwise taciturn drinking partner, Jack Muleya wanted to know
as to why some Indians refer to Zambia as ‘Jambia’. I had to explain
to him that in Indian languages there is no Z (or Zee as the
Americans call this letter), so invariably we go to the “Juu’ to see
animals in captivity! ‘That it is still a lame excuse not to refer
to a country by its proper name’ said Banda, to which I agreed. He
then remarked that he could differentiate between a Zambian of
Indian origin and an Indian expatriate who was newly arrived in this
country by the way they referred to certain places in this country.
When I asked how, he indicated that an Indian Expatriate would refer
to Ndola as In-Dola, Mtendere as Im-Tendere and Nkhana as Na-kana.
“That is clever”, I told Banda and asked him to repeat some Indian
names, which are real tongue twisters and Jack gave up.
Trying to justify
the problems my country cousins face with the use of Queen’s
language, I told Jack as to how lost I was in Australia when I
landed and it took a while for me to understand the Australian
English known as ‘Strine’, though the British may not quite approve
of that. By the way the British are referred to as Pommies in Strine.
‘Pommie’, I was told is an acronym for ‘Prisoners of Mother
England’. Remember Australia was a penal colony! One of my friends
thought that a penal colony was an all male nudist colony!! I was
taken aback when an Aussie asked me if I had come there ‘to die’ and
I told him that I wanted to live and not die. Later on my friend
told me that the Aussie wanted to know if I had come that ‘day’. I
eventually polished my Strine by hanging around with my mates, said
‘mites’ in Strine!
When I first came
to Zambia from India, I mean from one British colony to another, I
was curious about the use of English here. In Zambia, many speak
impeccable English. Then there are the ones who speak good
grammatical English but with the accent and intonation of Nyanja
speakers and a few, like that anchorperson who speaks with a put on
Mzungu accent! So which is truly Zambian English was my question and
search?
Talking about
certain peculiar usage of English in Zambia I should mention a few
things that my friend Jack helped me to figure out. When you say
that somebody is ‘bathing’, here is a case where a noun is used as a
verb. In proper English, one would bathe in a bath. Then there is
this verb ‘to relish’, which means to delight in or savour but here
it is used as a noun. Like ‘I am going to buy some relish like
Kapenta’. When we were driving around Makeni, my friend asked me to
‘make a corner’ meaning to turn. Then there is the usage of me, I,
him, he. Sometimes to emphasize a word, they are stretched by the
speaker, like for instance ‘Ee-t’ for ‘it’, ‘lay-tter’ for ‘letter’.
Then there is the mixing up of R (‘Ahra’ to be precise) and L, like
my Chinese friends, which can cause some funny mistakes. I have
heard the word ‘Election’ being used, but ending up as a Freudian
slip, though it was totally unintentional!
Jack asked me
about the Indian usage of English. I told him that though we spoke
English with an Indian accent, one can also hear Shakespeare being
quoted in the most unsuspecting of circumstances. And I told him
that the other British colony where I have heard such usage was in
Sierra Leone, but then the Creoles are more British than the British
themselves. I went on to explain to Jack that in India, Sahibs
who are a kind of vestigial remnants of the British Raj (you can
meet them in elite clubs and in army barracks) are the ones who
speak the Queens language, the way it is to be spoken! Then the
younger generation who come from public schools, speak English not
the way you and I do. Then Jack asked me as to how I spoke the
Queen’s language not the way some Indians did. I had to tell him
that he probably had seen many movies of Peter Sellers where he
spoke Indian English, shaking his head. (Though I have sat and
laughed at his films like ‘The Party’ where Sellers acted as a
bungling Indian, one cannot ignore the racial overtones of similar
such roles.) I explained to Jack that I was taught English when I
was twelve years old, by a cane-wielding anglophile of a teacher. So
wrong spellings or grammatical mistakes meant a sore rear end and
thus I learned the Queen’s language in a hard and painful way and
that was the difference. I told Jack that we are all colonial boys
trying to speak the Queen’s language and that one should not expect
to do that to perfection or the way Grandma Vicky did! Language is,
after all, for communication so what is the big deal if all the ex
British colonies speak the Queen’s language the way they want to
speak! But then the Queen’s language is not the simplest language. I
know a friend of mine who could not pass his test because of
‘pneumonia’! No, not because he was down with that sickness but
because he could not spell that word!
English is very
difficult to understand. I have not quite figured out why only pigs
have spare ribs and other animals do not! What if Adam had a spare
rib? How heavy are the stones that the English talk of losing? I do
not have a logical answer for the following queries of mine: if the
plural for mouse is mice then why is the plural for house, houses?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? If a
fire fighter is one who fights a fire, then what does a freedom
fighter fight? Why are goods taken by road called a shipment and
those taken by a ship, called cargo? And I can go on and on.
“So we have
adopted the language to suit us in India” I explained to Jack.
There is the exclusive usage in India of English words like ‘Stepne’,
which means spare tyre or a mistress, ‘Dicky’ refers to the boot of
a car ‘Tiffin’, for snacks, ‘oil bath’ refers to a bath after an oil
massage and surely such usage can only be understood in the Indian
context.
By now Jack has
had a couple of calls from his wife, Mutinta, hinting to him to
return home. ”She still talks about the Lobola I gave and she
says that five Ngombe is not enough when I got quite a bit of
money as Kongole for the wedding expenses and
Katundu to set up the house” he complained. Having lived in
Sierra Leone for a long time I am used to Creole, which is a mix of
English and African words with a structure of its own and I was
beginning to see the similarities and remarked, “Jack did you
realize that your talk is peppered with Nyanja words like Yoruba
words in Creole”. “I have heard your country cousins do the same
when you speak English with numerous Hindu words ”, Jack retorted
and I had to explain to him that a ‘Hindu’ is one who practices the
religion, Hinduism and the language spoken in India is called Hindi.
I agreed with him that when we speak English, it is usually mixed
with numerous Hindi words and “this language is not called English
but ‘Hindish’ I said! By this time Jack sat up with a look of
surprise. “Hindish is to be spoken strictly with useful Hindi
phrases with the accent and intonations of spoken Hindi’, I
explained to Jack, who listened carefully in spite of the many Mosis
he had had. By this time, the bar was getting noisier and the DJ
decided to increase the volume of music and played the song entitled
‘It is tulu’ by Victor Kachaka. I liked that song for the
straightforward rendition in Zambian English. So I asked Jack, as
to what he thought about the Zambianised English in which that song
was sung and the language he spoke with numerous Nyanja words. After
some thinking he said “Well if you call the English you speak in
India, Hindish then call this language Nyanjish!’ with a hearty
laugh.
He couldn’t
recollect this great finding of his the next day when he was sober
but I did, so that I could write a few things about this newly
emerging language called Nyanjish!
(Only minor
corrections made, to adequately show the usage of Indian English.
Ed.) |
June 2006