I first discovered the theory of ‘semiotics’ during my post-graduate studies. The discovery was a great boon to my academic career. It let me get away with murder!
Let me explain:
‘Semiotics’ says that all words have two aspects: The first is that they have no precise meaning of their own; a word is always a ‘metaphor‘. The second is that the ’metaphors’ vary (with place and time).
So, simply, words have no ‘meaning’ of their own. Only the ‘reader’ can create meaning from a word. For example, Chinese means nothing until you learn Chinese. Yes? The ‘meaning’ of a word therefore exists in the mind of ‘the reader’ not in ‘the word’.
And, obviously, readers vary. Therefore, … meanings vary.
My strategic use of these two concepts allowed me to interpret essay topics in a variety of ways and, as long as I skirted the real issues with a bit of semiotic claptrap, there was not much any lecturer could say about it. As I said, I got away with murder. However, I also earned a bad note in my academic record for my troubles. But that’s another story …
Putting this sad academic history aside for a moment, let me regale you with a lovely example of the semiotic thesis in action. It’s an example from Nairobi Sheng – the slang, street Kiswahili of this city - and it (mainly) concerns the term “jua kali”.
The term literally means “hot sun” and can be used as an exclamation of outside temperatures in Nairobi:
“Jua kaaaaaaali!” [as in, “Sheesh, the sun is hot today”].
In this case, the truth of your comment might be affirmed by:
“Saaaaaaaaana!” [very!]
[Accompanied by a little laugh.]
Now the metaphor starts to shift: Because the local metal foundries and informal furniture factories are usually situated in roadside sheds, and the work is largely done in the hot sun, employment in the informal sector has become known as “jua kali”. If you work in the ‘informal sector’ anywhere, you describe your work as “jua kali” … even if you are forging US Dollars in a dark basement. Isn’t that cool?
Now, because of the range of occupations associated with the ‘informal sector’, the term has gained overtones of being ‘home-made’ and perhaps a bit suspect. In this sense, one would differentiate the work of someone considered a ‘fundi’ (Kiswahili for ‘expert’) from the work of ‘jua kali’ (in this sense, ‘an amateur’).
[Accompanied by a slight shrug, as in: “Well, you choose who you want to do the job”.]
Ruth’s brother, Steven, showed me his two-year-old USB Flash Drive one day. It was wrapped so severely in insulation tape that it had started to become round. His comment, with the usual dry wit, was that his repairs over the years have been a bit ‘jua kali’.
Over the last few months, Kenya’s hard-core ‘street rap’, called Genge, has been dominated by an artist calling himself ‘Jua Kali’. His meaning of the term is most likely ‘home-made’, more akin to ‘home-grown’ talent. Just another addition to the lexicon of the term.
The term ‘kali’, too, has a few meanings in local use. In Sheng, it can mean ‘hot’ as in ‘overt sexuality’. It can mean ‘hot’ as in cha’ngaa (moonshine). It can mean ‘hot’ as in ‘hot tempered’ (as in Somalis). These uses are all common. Hard drugs (and strong medicine) are both ’dawa kali’. But, my sources tell me, if you’re prone to chemical abuse you are likely to earn the moniker of being kidogo “chemi-kali”! I love it.
And, as always in Kiswahili, it is less about the word itself than how you say it:
“Kaaaaaaaaali ………. !!!
………………..
…………..
…….
“ ………………….Saaaaaaaaaaana!!!”
… is used like the use of “Mambo Mbaya” and the rejoinder, "Sana”, that I rejoiced some time ago (see prior blog). It’s a mutual affirmation of how totally ‘wicked’ the situation is.
Ever beautiful, ever dynamic, the people play with their shared language and make it new. On the streets of Nairobi Kiswahili mutates into a joyous, shared communication, across tribe and ethnicity. The Swahili language takes on a new, urban flava. The flava is Sheng. And when your use of Sheng has ‘an edge’, it’s “Sheng kaaaaali!”.
The language is hip and happening. From what I know (which is very little), it is a patois that is evolving very fast. Hip mums, trying to stay ‘with it’, use the terms all messed up when talking to their teenage daughters.
They land up using adjectives where nouns should be!
[accompanied by a slightly embarrassed teenage giggle]
Amani na upendo
B-)
