SERIOUSLY, in the name of Hemedi, my dear people of Juja (I heard only you understand him). I came into 2011 with an unofficial ‘resolution’: to decipher your language. Unfortunately, even my intellect (the little I have) couldn’t help me there. So I will bare my ‘intellectual troubles to the blogosphere: what does that additional ‘-ment’ and ‘-est’ represent?
Is it a lost language, relative to hieroglyphs? I bet even Tutankhamen and Cleopatra would be as clueless as me. Or is it the missing language of beings from an extra-terrestrial universe gifted to you, as a gift for your “outstanding” intelligence.
Or how else would you describe such a convo:
“Niaje sweetest! Nimekumissment!”
“Awww.. dearest hata mimi nimekumiss. Mamboz?”
“Aaah, imekuwa gwanest sugarplum. Story ni rave rave rave. Yaani tu RAVEMENT KILA TIME!”
“Wagwan, kwanza ka ni hivyo navukaest huko kwenu mara dat dat. Huku Jujament kunabore-est”
“Ati kunabore, wacha nikushtue…”
“Aki shwity utakuja…aki that’s why nakupendaestestest…mwahest!….”…..
Yiddi yaddi yadda. I would rather peel a sack of fresh onions, with pegs on my eyes rather than endure that. And it’s not made up! IT’S NOT MADE UP! All those are words I’ve heard in use…well most. The rest just blame on the late hour at which I’m typing this knowing I’ll be late for my 8 a.m class tomorrow.
Simple Q: what happened to simple good English? Refined speech? We are not in the ages of our forefathers wear English knowledge was instilled by canes and rubber pipes (my Std.1 teacher still gives me nightmares). It’s the books, and no, faceBOOK is not one! Especially considering it’s the main propagator of this literary monstrosity! It’s not only the ‘barbies’ from private schools who are expected to speak like they were taught by a teacher of English and not by English teachers like many others. For example, a certain parrot once shared with me that it heard a ‘young’ man selling oranges at a roadside stop on the Nyeri-Nairobi highway(is it a highway? *shrugs*) speaking in pure Queen’s English…PURE! Sample this,
“Madam (most women call you auntie, even if you’re a man, WTH!), could I sell you some oranges”
I bet just hearing that in kyuk territory (hapo Sagana) without it being converted into ‘serro you samu olanges’, that’s enough of an ear-catcher! Of course you ignore the guy (especially as in the case of this parrot suffering from severe car-sickness). But he insists:
“Madam, you won’t be disappointed. Trust me.”
You give him those nonchalant eyes pretending not to give a parrot’s tail-feather about the olanges.
“Madam, you mean you won’t buy these juicy organic oranges. They are totally unblemished. I can even give you a free sample, you travel till Karatina (50 km away) then if you are satisfied by the taste, just tell the driver to turn around. If he refuses, just give him a taste also. Trust me you will come back!…BLAH BLAH BLAH”
Let’s just say those oranges are now testimony to the power of the human digestive system!
Sorry to judge, but who are you not to speak good English…and if not speaking , WRITE! Think on this, if let’s say, aliens came (they are an obsession, sorry) and told you that your descendants from the future are having problems deciphering this ‘code’ that we used to ‘communicate’ in our time and would ike some insight!…ummmh, what exactly would you answer?
Food for thought that. And thinking in Future-spect (I just made that up) in a millennia, will the internet be considered, what’s the word, mundane? Aaah, but that’s for another day. Monday’s are hard enough anyway. As for all my peeps in Jujament, I invitestest you back to schoolment, it’s quite a ummmh, blessingment. Or just savest your brain-cells the embarrassment (khai! I’m even doubting if that ‘–ment’ belongs there) and SPEAK ENGLISH! And the excuse that you are protecting culture, Kiswahili, yayaba, hubba hubba, I don’t think the wahenga (someone shoot them for making my education such a *****) ever said anything like ‘Ment ment hujaza est est’.
THINK ON THAT!