Why I love Kenyan English ('Hellos everyone')

Lucy Oriang' starts a rather good piece in today's Nation with these words:

"Archbishop Tutu is on record as saying that the truth hurts. If that is so, it has started paining rather too soon for the Truth, Justice and Reconciliation Commission – and those who want to see this nation heal in their lifetime."

Notice anything Kenyan, not standard British or American English? The verb 'to pain'. It's not in my active vocabulary, but everyone here uses it - even my children. And why not? Each country that uses English has its own form, its own flavour, and 'paining' is part of what I think of as Standard Kenyan English.

When I suggest to my students that there might be such a thing as Standard Kenyan English (hey, let's call it SKE.. or KSE?), they generally look very dubious. While Kenyan English has yet to make it into Microsoft's list of valid varieties, which, last time I looked, included Zimbabwean and South African, I don't think Microsoft should be the arbiter of what's standard and what isn't (though often they are judged to be: realize is just as good as realise in British English, but not according to Microsoft). Kembo-Sure of Moi University argues more strongly for SKE in African Voices (co-authored by Vic Webb).

Expressions such as 'to pain', 'wananchi' (= people, as in the common people, from Swahili), and other Swahili-derived expressions such as 'fundi' (artisan), are used on TV news, in the newspapers, by people with degrees, many of whom speak better English than anything else. My first instinct soon after arriving here when finding such words in assignments was to 'correct' them, but I no longer do so - their use is only proper in Kenyan English. Also, the years of the last decade are uniformly said (even by the president) as 2-0-7, a usage which seems to be common around Africa - a Finnish colleague, just to test the usage, deliberately said 2-0-0-7 to a South African sommelier, who laughed. And some things are pronounced differently: it's a 'sack-red' ibis, not a 'sake-red' one.

And some expressions have different meanings. Soon after arriving here I passed by some people I vaguely knew carrying a heavy load. Would they like a lift? 'It's OK' came the reply. So I drove on. Woops! 'It's OK' here (and in other parts of Africa like Sierra Leone) means 'Yes', not 'I'm fine'. I've told this story to Kenyans a few times, who found it hilarious. I doubt the people I left behind felt the same way.

And then there are the common expressions which you won't find in the newspapers, but which many people use. When greeting more than one person, say 'Hellos', or 'Good Mornings', or 'How are Yous?'. Probably not SKE, but non-standard, while being very friendly. I really enjoy using these expressions. How about yous?

Of Leopards and Mosquitoes

My second blog entry discussed the dangers of sharks and elephants, so now it's time for another couple of topical tropical beasties.

Much excitement was caused in our little neighbourhood this week by the sighting (but I don't know who by) of a leopard ('lay-oh-pad') a few nights ago. Tracks were found and identified by... someone. Our househelp, who lives a short walk away, was woken in the middle of the night by 'what sounded like a person' on the roof. Her neighbour poked a stick under her door, trying to shoo away what she thought was a dog, being barked at by other dogs. She wondered why the 'dog' didn't move on, but thankfully didn't open her door. The following evening our househelp wanted accompanying home after babysitting for us - a first. I braved the four-minute walk back home on my own. But I did check around while heading back, I have to admit. I've not heard anything about that beastie for the last few days, so it's probably moved on to another part of Karen... Interestingly, the Kenya Wildlife Service said they had to deal with a lion in Ngong first - a much more frightening feline.

And then today I ended up taking a little kid with a fever to a clinic. Later on his dad popped by, and told me the little one had malaria. And they'd not been anywhere, so this was quite a surprise. People here often refer to a fever as 'malaria', just like people back home refer (annoyingly to my mind) to a cold as 'flu' (though not as 'influenza' - that sounds far too diagnosed). But dad's puzzlement showed that wasn't the case here. Real, live, malaria, caught here in Karen, at 1800 metres. It's not the first time this has happened, but it's rare enough not to think about taking prophylaxis, common enough to use a mosquito net. Though that's probably more because mozzie bites are a pain.

But which causes more worry, announcements, chatter? The leopard. Leopards don't attack people unless provoked. We walked within 5 metres of one, with the children, at Crater Lake. It was the leopard that ran away. Mozzies, and the malaria they can (most don't and can't) carry, aren't big and scary, don't cause panic, but are far more dangerous. Our oldest obviously doesn't really believe this, the number of times I find her asleep with the mozzie net up. It tends to be the things we don't fear that get us, not those that do.