THE WRITERS CLINIC: BECOMING A MONGREL OF ‘ENGLISHES’

IN mid-December last year, 2019, we launched Simba Nyamadzawo’s book, EMERGE. I shared with him an observation I had made while typesetting the book — that he was mixing up American and British English.

Well, it’s not an unpardonable sin, but it’s important because in certain circles, especially on the international market, it can lead to the rejection of a book or demean its value. 

In fact, I have noticed that a lot of authors don’t know the differences between these two most dominant ‘Englishes’. 

The differences often manifest in orthographies, or the spelling system of a language. You can take a look at the following random examples:

British                American

1. Realise               Realize

2. Colour                Color

3. Centre                Center

4. Saviour               Savior 

These differences emerged between the 1750s and early 1800s when Samuel Johnson published A Dictionary of the English Language in 1755 while an American standardised orthography was birthed following Noah Webster’s release of An American Dictionary of the English Language in 1828.

The publications extensively helped in defining and distinguishing the two English varieties. 

Traditionally, the English generally spoken in Zimbabwe and the Commonwealth (a club of former British colonies) is British English. 

It’s not a crime to use either of these ‘Englishes’. It only becomes a ‘crime’ when you are not consistent in your use of that particular English. Stick to the English of your choice throughout your book. It is a matter of consistency. 

Now, I want us to go a little deeper with this. I took the title of this presentation from a conversation between academics at the University of Fribourg in Switzerland, Professor Elisabeth Dutton and Professor Alexandre Duchene and Adichie Chimamanda Ngozie titled Literature, Power & the Academy: A Conversation with Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie held on November 15, 2019. 

Adichie is the internationally acclaimed Nigerian author of Purple Hibiscus, Half of a Yellow Sun, The Thing Around Your Neck, Americanah and We Should All Be Feminists. 

She is also popularly known for her TEDTalk presentation, The Danger of a Single Story. 

In her November 15, 2019 talk, Adichie said:  “But I do feel that I’ve become a kind of mongrel of Englishes. I’d like to think that my work reflects the kind of English I’m familiar with, which is a certain kind of Nigerian English. An English deeply flavoured with Igbo, the other language I speak.”

Adichie then explained about Pidgin English, another bastardised version of English, which we frequently encounter in movies from Nigeria. This is a rather informal version of English spoken among the lower social classes in the West African country.

She described that as “the multipleness of English in my world.”

When you hear Americans speak or write, you will notice that their English is not exactly like that spoken by the British, or maybe even Australians, South Africans and Zimbabweans. 

There was a time in my life when I thought my English had to be faultlessly British every time I write.

I remember that this drive for perfection was born out of rejection. This was after an Evaluator at Mambo Press had rejected my first ever manuscript around 2001/2002 on the basis that there was too much use of what she called Colloquial English in my writing. 

Colloquialism, according to the dictionary, is a word or phrase that is not formal or literary, and is used in ordinary or familiar conversation. 

But over the years, I have been increasingly fascinated by the disruptive innovations that have crept into almost every facet of life, including the study of language itself and literature as a whole.

And this is why I was excited by Roderick Mazoyo’s debut novel, Hupenyu Hauna Formula and our recent publication at Royalty Books titled Life Will Humble You, a debut novel by Audrey Chirenje. 

Audrey, in particular, uses the largely informal English that you may call slang, spoken among a younger generation of Zimbabweans, in telling her. 

This is how the book opens…WOW! Wow! Gosh! OMG! So, this is what it feels like driving one of them big cars, I thought. I could feel the wind in my face. Wait a minute! I had to play some loud music to complete the picture. I reached for the radio and pressed “play” and, of course, my girl Brandy started doing her thang on her song, Wow.

This is largely informal writing which, however, young Zimbabweans can identify with because this is a bastardised version of Zimbabwean English that they speak every day. 

Linguists however argue that colloquialism is not necessarily slang (words used by specific social groups such as teenagers or soldiers), but may include slang while consisting mainly of contractions or other informal words and phrases known to most native speakers of the language.

When you read my books, you will often come across the word kombi rather than commuter omnibus. Any Zimbabwean, anywhere, will know what it means, although people who are foreign to Zimbabwe may require a footnote to grasp it. 

To say fat cooks, for instance, is English, but an American or British may not understand what you mean. This is derived from the Afrikaans word, vetkoek, which means “fried bread” 

If you are going to use fried bread instead of fat cook in your narrative, it may fly over your readers’ heads. 

Just for interest’s sake, you can consider the Shona insult word pfutseke. It is derived from an informal Afrikaans term, voetsek (meaning ‘go away’ or ‘get away’) but has almost been formalised in the Shona language. 

The same applies with robot, which we use in Zimbabwe to refer to traffic lights. Elsewhere, a robot is not a traffic light! You also have terms like durawall (precast wall) and small house (mistress).

Here is a line from a novel script that I am currently finalising, titled, Sword in the Wilderness: Harry nodded. He reached over to brush loose strands of Fadzai’s long weave out of her eyes._ (pp51).

To a non-Zimbabwean, a long weave would be improper English because “weave” is a verb rather than a noun, meaning;– interlace, lace, intertwine, plait, kit, entwine, merge or unite…

However, in Zimbabwe, we know that it means hair extensions or something like that… (Am I right, ladies? 

Those of you who watch Black American movies will also appreciate that the English they speak is different from that spoken by White Americans from the mainstream society, but it can be perfectly understood across the board. 

Just this afternoon, I was chatting with my good friend Dr. Tanaka Chidora about this very subject. 

Interestingly, he sent me an abstract of a thesis he is currently working on titled When Ancestors Speak in English: Chenjerai Hove’s Ground breaking Shonalised English Novel.

Some of you would be familiar with Hove’s Bones (1988), a Noma Award for Publishing in Africa winner, as well as Ancestors (1994), which Dr. Chidora describes as  “a ground-breaking project with an Achebean tinge to it because it was the first full throttle attempt by a Zimbabwean author to, so to speak, make ancestors converse in English”. 

He further argues that by so doing, Hove joined “the side of Chinua Achebe who argued that English can be made to carry the weight of his African experience”.

But what I find catchy is Dr. Chidora’s proposition that Ancestors “is also an archive of what I can call Zimbabwean English, in terms of the use of Shona idioms and speech rhythms.” This is powerful, and so very liberating, especially the acknowledgment that Hove’s “process of ‘Shonalising’ manifests in the new generation of globetrotting Zimbabwean writers who seem to be creating a ‘home’ away from home by importing various idiomatic forms of Zimbabwean languages into their writings”.

Among these globetrotters are Petina Gappah, Brian Chikwava and Panashe Chigumadze. If you are a serious author, you must familiarise yourself with these guys’ works.

What I am sharing with you might never make sense to you, or will present difficulties, unless you develop a strong relationship with words. 

Henceforth, I want to encourage you to start paying closer attention to your language. 

A few weeks ago, I attended a work meeting where we mingled with Shingi Mutasa (Joina City owner and one of the richest men in Zimbabwe), who described English as “a very specific language”. 

You can use it to pigeonhole any idea or express any emotion. The trick is to use the version that does it aptly for you.

Phillip Kundeni Chidavaenzi

Author | Editor | Literary Consultant

Co-Founder & Editor-in-Chief of Royalty Books (Pvt.) Ltd

Founder & Administrator Writers Clinic

Writers Clinic is a writer training and author empowerment arm of leading book publishers, Royalty Books.