Swahili is one of the most widely spoken of all African languages (probably followed by Zulu and its variants) and is probably accessible to near 150 million people in the East Africa region alone. Swahili is the regional lingua franca with roots that can be traced back to the first millennium AD! The language developed as a shared language between the Arabs and the coastal people they came across. It is found in use throughout East Africa (Kenya, Tanzania, Uganda, Rwanda and Burundi) but is also spoken to the north - in parts of Somalia and Ethiopia - and as far south as northern Mozambique and Zambia.
However, Swahili is the mother tongue to only 20 million people living on the East African coast. These are the true Swahili people – Mswahilini – who, for Centuries, struck fear into the hearts of the Bantu people. For a long time it was Arab and Bantu, trader and slave, starting at the slave-trading island of Zanzibar.
Today still, the most pure Swahili is found among the Zanzibaris, thereafter within greater Tanzania, followed quite a way later by the Swahili found in Kenya - with Nairobi Swahili considered to be ‘Sheng’, or Swahili slang, rather than true Swahili.
Nairobians sometimes don't even understand Swahili as it is spoken in Mombasa. When I moved around Nairobi with Husna, she often had to repeat herself. And when I was with her in Mombasa, it was just charming to listen to the lyrical sound of her speaking with her brother.
An interesting difference between Nairobi and Mombasa is that in Nairobi you would use of the term “patie" (put-ee-eh) at a shop. It means “give me …”, but if you use this in Mombasa you are considered rude. In their use of Swahili (and according to their custom) you would say "zaidie" (zai-dee-eh)..."could you please help me with …” (and in Nairobi they think you want it for free when you use the term).
Interestingly, the Swahili alphabet – formalized in the 1930’s – includes all the letters of the English alphabet except for ‘Q’ and ‘X’ yet 'Q' and 'X' are the dominant letters in the Xhosa alphabet! Alphabet theft. The Xhosa took the letters and spread south.
***
William Kingi posted this piece on Facebook that I thought was quite fascinating:
The Swahili language is a work of art that has been in the making for more than 500 years and is still evolving. I wish to share some facts about the language that enthuse me. This beautiful language is an agglutinative Bantu language, but what intrigues most is how heavily it has borrowed from other languages.
Few speakers of the language are aware of how often they use words borrowed from other languages in common speech.
From the Arabs came the numbers: sita (six), saba (seven) and tisa (nine). From the Persians (present Iran), Swahili co-opted: Chai (tea), achari (pickle), serikali (government), and diwani (councilor). India’s contribution came in the form of chapati, biryani, duka (shop) and harambee (charity/benefit). Our former colonial masters the English gave Swahili words like baiskeli (bicycle), basi (bus), penseli (pencil), koti (coat), and mashine (machine). It conjured up shule (school) and hela (coins) from the Germans.
This past holiday season, a friend holidayed in Portugal. As we were talking, I happened to mention that Swahili had borrowed from the Portuguese language as well. I knew some few words, but when she asked me which ones, I went searching and what I dug up in terms of volume utterly amazed me. Here are some cool ones:
Bandera (flag), baraza (public meeting), bastola (gun), bata (buck), biblia (bible), bibo (cashew fruit), bomba (pump), buli (teapot) chapa (cane), faranga (chick), foronya (pillowcase), gereza (prison), hospitali (hospital), idadi (amount or count), kasha (box), kopa (loan), kopo (pot), korosho (cashew nut), leso (scarf), limao (lemon), meza (table), mvinyo (wine), padre (priest), pao (cool), pera (Guava), pesa (coin), pilau, pipa (bin), ratili (scale), saa (time), safari, shuka (sheet of cloth), sukari (suger), tarumbeta (trumpet), yaya (maid). These are just but a few of the words.
Ain’t it amazing?
***
I don’t pretend to speak Swahili (or, more properly, Kiswahili1) well, but I'm understood well enough to ‘get around’ most situations. My command of the grammatical aspects is terrible but I usually got the message across. It's crude but it works.
“Wewe! Kuja hapa! Sasa! Weka una matako hapa! Hapana, si hapo!”
(You! Come here! Now! Put your ass here! No, not there!)
Kenyans appreciate that you are trying to speak their shared language and will forgive little indiscretions in the use of it.
***
The beauty of Swahili derives from both the words themselves and the way the words are spoken.
To say something is really bad, one doesn’t have to use the term “sana” to stress it. One just has to extend the “mbaya” to “mbaaaaaaya!”. Similarly, with many of the adjectives used in Swahili.
I love the use of the term ni nini meaning “it's what?” or, referring to an un-named thing (or if you forgot what it's called), a nini-nini, a ”what-what”.
Another term that is almost an expression on it's own, is sindio?, meaning “not so?” It derives from si, meaning “not” and ndyo, meaning “yes”! The reply to this is often "ndyo!" (it IS so).
Many a statement, on just about any subject, is followed by sindio? – “isn’t it true?” There is also a special way of using the term that I can’t begin to explain here, but it is saying “I know it to be true even though I’m asking you!” But it’s a beautifully self-affirming statement to the effect that the orator is being truthful in what he or she is saying.
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When I first arrived in Kenya I was repeatedly greeted by the term “Jambo!2” A while after I first arrived I started being greeted by the term “Mambo!” I started thinking about these two terms, both greetings. And then I thought about the English term “mumbo-jumbo”, meaning something that is unintelligible. I realised then that the term mumbo-jumbo came from Swahili greetings made to the Colonials. The colonists, not knowing what was being said to them, adopted the term to denote anything they couldn’t understand at all! Sad, really.
***
Somehow in Nairobi I metamorphosed and started gaining an identity beyond that of a white Kenyan. By osmosis I changed.
I probably went through four shades of Kenyan identity in the eyes of Kenyans and most of it hinged on my growing command of Swahili. But sometimes it hinged on something else entirely:
Nearly three decades ago, my ‘ex’ gave me a kikoi of hers. Beating all odds, the kikoi has managed to stay with me, through many phases of life. It has narrowly escaped battery acid, and consistently avoided oil paint. It has been prey only to one blotch of indelible marking ink (plus there’s a tear I need to fix). It is now monochromatic pink with one dark stripe.
It’s something I always take when I go on holiday. It works well as a wrap, as a towel, and as a sun resistant screen for my balding head. So, of course, it followed me to Mombasa.
As is my wont, I wrapped the kikoi round my voluminous frame before heading for the beach. Replete with Hawaiian shirt (but no sunglasses), I started the long stroll from the far end of Mombasa beach towards the main bathing area (Kenyatta Beach, or Pirate Beach).
Not a thought was given to the fact that the kikoi had originally come from Kenya three decades ago (and it shows)!
So there I was, minding my own business, strolling ever so slowly down the steadily-narrowing beach … (the tidal effect is very marked in Mombasa).
The first thing I noticed was that I was NOT being approached by any of the curio vendors, and sellers of miscellaneous tourist gear, that line the beach. If nothing else, there was a nod. But the second thing I noticed – I couldn’t avoid it – were the calls that were coming at me from everywhere.
“Mambo, rafiki …” (what's news, friend)
“Sema?” (speak to me/tell me)
“Sasa?” (like 'what's up?')
“Habari yako, baba ….?” (how are you, dad?)
And even
“Niaje?” (what's up?)
The last being the most informal greeting of the lot and not often accorded a man of my advanced years! I realized to my dismay that I was being taken as Kenyan - despite my colour - simply because of an old faded kikoi. Somewhat mistakenly, there was the notion that here was an mzungu ‘one of us’. And that I replied to the greetings in Kiswahili simply cemented the illusion.
As I walked yup the beach, the looks that traced their way behind me - almost every time - were looking for the “Point-Tee”, the child of mixed race (a “.5” or “Pointy”), that was supposed to be following me.
The Kalenjin kikoi seller immediately asked me the whereabouts of my “Kenyan wife” while the beautiful Kikuyu who claimed to be a model wife asked if I lived in Nairobi. I talked with the (rather good) Kamba painter about local careers in art. As I walked away, the Swahili fisherman wanted to sell me live king prawns “to cook at home”. The (probably) Luhya beach massage “therapist” … she just nodded and smiled.
The kids mostly greeted me with …
“MZuuuuuuuuuuuNNNN … GU!”
But there was rapturous laughter, and much falling about, when I replied along the lines of
“Sasa, nini mbaya na wewe?!” (So now, what’s wrong with you?!).
Wherever I went, the banter was amazing. I smiled, as only an mzungu in a strange land can. Broadly. The entire 3 km experience was quite amazing.
I mention all this just to say one thing: If you escape the “hustle” that is so much a part of this economically-disenabled country, you find a ‘soul’ or ‘spirit’ (‘roho’ in Kiswahili) inside of Kenya‘s people that is very beautiful. There is a warmth (just see the smiles) among all the Kenyans I encounter. A joy. An ability to laugh at circumstance, and themselves.
And if I could be so accepted and respected, wholly and completely, by the regular folk on the beach … because I was simply wearing a national fabric and I spoke a little Kiswahili … Just imagine ….
If anything, this hints at something I feel quite strongly: That Kenya must ignore the bogey that’s called ‘tribalism’. Kenyans are proud of their diverse nationhood. And they readily embrace other Kenyans, whoever they might be, or wherever from. It's only when the politicians start talking that ethnic rivalry raises its head.
***
When I was first in Nairobi I was seen as msafiri, a traveller or tourist (from the Swahili safari, to travel). I was always greeted with “Jambo!”. I learned that the best reply was “Sana!”, basically meaning “I greet you a lot too!”.
Then, after a while, I got “Mambo!” (What's news?) as a greeting. I knew the customary reply was “Poa!” (I'm cool).
During my second year I was being called Kamau regularly on the streets, mainly by makangas who must have recognised my down-and-out Nairobi look. I jest, but Kamau is the Kenyan equivalent of Smith. He's a regular Kenyan guy. They would say,
“Kamau! Sema?” (Smith! What you say?)
By then, I was being greeted just like everyone else.
“Sema?” (What do you say?) Poa!
“Niaje?” (…) Safi!
“Niambie?” (Tell me something?) Hakuna story! Niko sawa!
Then, in my last few weeks I was accorded the honour of Mkenya. A Kenyan. And I was often introduced to someone with the addition of:
“Mkenya yeye” (He's Kenyan)
It was meant as an honour to me. I had passed the anonymous test of Kenyan-ness.
***
There is a poetic beauty in the language that comes via the commonly repeated phonemes – mimi, wewe, yeye, sasa, nini – but the way the language is used makes it lovely to hear. Of course, there's also the behavior that goes with the language. It's often lovely to watch too.
There's an essential gentle spirit built in there somewhere.
There's an essential gentle spirit built in there somewhere.
A typical start-up conversation in Swahili will go as follows:
“Mambo?” (Informal greeting of “What’s news?”)
Your reply might be:
“Poa!” (Cool) or “poa sana!” or even “poa-poa!” (If you are feeling exceptional)
Alternatively, you might reply that you are “not bad”:
“Si mbaya”
Or bad:
“Mbaya” (although this is very seldom used without good reason)
On Fridays, particularly, you will be prone to reply:
“Salama” (at peace) or “Salama sana” (very peaceful) or “Salama kabisa” (entirely peaceful)
There will be lots of smiling. The conversation will be infused with affirmations and solemn nods. When all is said and done you'll hear “Sawa?” (Okay?) to which you'll hear a definite “Sawa sawa” in response. It's lovely.
“Tuanane kesho!” (I'll see you tomorrow!)
“Saaaaaaaaaawa!” (Okaaaaaaaaaaay!)
***
After hearing Swahili quite a bit and getting a rough grasp of the language, I mused that you could probably be totally cool in and around Nairobi if you knew just the “Three Esses of Swahili3”.
The First ‘S’:
The word sasa (sah-sah), in proper Swahili, means ‘now’, as in “kuja hapa sasa!”, or “come here now!” But in Nairobi Sheng it denotes more. The first alternate meaning is, I suppose, closest to saying “Hey?” and it might well be used when answering a phone call …
The phone rings. You ‘pick it’ (Kenyan for ‘answer it’) and say:
“Sasa?”
The response you are most likely to get is:
“Poa sana” (meaning ‘cool very’)
And the self-same question follows, from you, again:
“Sasa?”
To which you might get:
"Poa poa" if your caller is really feeling good today.
Another, slightly more correct use of "sasa" is to say "now ...” but in a more 'open' sense. It's used like:
"Now ... as I was saying"
As a means of re-opening a subject - perhaps a sensitive one - it is spoken softly and has a gentleness and unintrusive subtlety that is very charming. There’s a slight lilt to this usage where the first sah sound is inflected higher.
The Second “S”:
“Sema” (seh-mah) in proper Swahili means to 'speak' or to 'say something', yet it is used in a very similar way to “Sasa?” It’s a more informal greeting than “Mambo?” and it means “What do you have to say?”, or “What’s up?”
Again, as with “Sasa?”, it essentially boils down to “How are you?” and again, a version of “Poa” - or maybe a more moderate “Nzuri” (Good) - is likely to follow.
“Sema?” has to be distinguished from its usage in “Una sema nini?” meaning ‘What do you say?’, which is a more direct question relating to what was just said, or to someone’s opinion of something.
My best was when I asked one of my staff “Una sema nini?”, to which she replied:
“Hakuna story” (“There is no / I have no story”).
Sometimes one is asked “Sema?” perhaps in relation to looking a little preoccupied or unsettled, in which case my colleague's phrase is appropriate, if everything is actually OK.
By way of a small aside, you have to be careful when using variations of the "Hakuna" story...
“Hakuna matata” (there are no worries/troubles)
“Hakuna matatu” (there is no taxi)
“Hakuna matako” (there is no ass)
The Third “S”:
The third “S” – “Sawa” (sah-wah) - is likely the most commonly used word in the Swahili language. Quite simply, it means “OK”.
Any conversation will be infused with numerous uses of sawa along the way and if an arrangement has been made, the conversation will end with “Sawa?” (“OK?”), followed, on the other side, by the affirmative “Sawa-sawa!” (“OK-OK!”) indicating that a firm arrangement or agreement has been reached.
In fact, it often closes a conversation or initiates departure, whether or not there has been any intervening arrangement. It is often just a warm, informal affirmation between friends and also suffices for the more formal “Kwaheri” (“good-bye”), which is seldom used.
***
I guess Nairobi Swahili is somewhat akin to Johannesburg ‘street’ Zulu and is hardly the stuff of high literary lexicons and dictionary discourse. My journalist-friend Peter ran into problems with his Tanzanian editor through an over-reliance on the bastardised script that is Nairobi Swahili.
But a lot of the Swahili spoken in Nairobi won't be found in a phrase book written in Tanzania. Even some of the most-widely used words are bastardised in Nairobi. So what I landed up learning was Sheng, more than Swahili proper. And the way I threw it around appalled Peter. He said I should write a disclaimer for the butchering that results when I use the language. But I got quite taken by Sheng and wrote this little piece:
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 nation, tribe and ethnicity. The Swahili language takes on a new, urban flava. And the flava is called Sheng. And when your use of Sheng has ‘an edge’, it’s “Sheng kali!” (Hot Sheng!). From what I know of Sheng - which is very little - it is a patois that evolves very quickly. ‘Hip’ mums, trying to stay ‘with it’, use the terms all messed up when talking to their teenage daughters. They put adjectives where nouns should be.
Sheng is highly dynamic, widely-used and highly descriptive.
The term “Mambo mbaya” is used in two completely opposite senses, depending entirely on the WAY it is said. Literally, the term means “Bad news”, but when applied to subjects like the quality of music, aesthetics (human or otherwise), or perhaps to the quality of something else, it takes on the same meaning as the term “wicked!” did in the UK some years back.
It takes this meaning only when the emphasis is placed on the second word, mbaya (bad), to which the affirmative reply might be “Sana”, or perhaps the drawn-out “Saaaaana” indicating agreement. What you're saying here is actually, "this is really good …!"
When the emphasis is placed equally on the two words, it is to be understood more literally, as in “BAD NEWS”. Again, the reply could be “sana!” but the word will be spoken in a ‘level’ way, agreeing fully with the observation.
An even greater level of agreement will be had by addition of the term “Kabisa!” (Fully / completely) after the “Sana” while the ultimate agreement would be had from the addition of “Kabisa-kabisa!” (fully and completely!)
In any language, the shades of meaning and nuances attached to words change. This is what the academic field of 'semiotics' is about. Meanings of words vary by place and time. So let me regale you with a lovely example of the semiotic thesis in action.
It’s an example from Sheng and 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 dubious skills sometimes found in this ‘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 a ‘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 his 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 ‘JuaCali’. His meaning of the term is most likely ‘home-made’, more akin to ‘home-grown’ music. 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 ‘strong’ 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 (a little) “chemi-kali”! I love it.
***
I suppose some indication of a country’s essential ‘spirit’ has to be drawn from the words one learns at the very start of one’s experience there.
The first word you learn in Kenya, because you hear it so often, is karibu (you are welcome) or karibu sana (you are very welcome). Then, quite quickly, you learn to say the appropriate asante (thank you) or asante sana (thanks a lot).
Early on, you also hear pole, meaning “I am sorry for you and/or your experience” and the seemingly similar (yet quite distinct) pole-pole meaning “slowly” or “take it easy”.
The personal pronouns of “you” (wewe/yako) or “me” (mimi/yangu) follow quite quickly, as do …
Greetings and their replies
Mambo? Poa (Cool)
Niaje? Safi (Clean)
Sema? Poa (Cool)
When someone inquires as to the success or pleasure of something they will ask,
Habari ya …?
(Wewe, Asabui, Leo, Jioni, Safari, etc.) (You, morning, day, night, trip, etc.)
The replies might be:
Nzuri Good
Mbaya Bad
Hatari Dangerous
Poa Cool, Beautiful, Pretty
Before any of the above, you could say:
Ni This/is/it/it's
Si Negation of 'Ni'
Tuanane I will see you …
Kwaheri Farewell
In between any statement and another you might want to add,
“Pole pole, nasema Kiswahili kidogo tu”
(Slowly, I speak just a little Swahili)
Compliments:
One of the first compliments I learned in Nairobi was:
“Uko na matako poa!” (You have a cool ass)
But, I guess, you can use the expression equally for:
Legs Mgoo (there is no differentiation between legs and feet in Swahili)
Eyes Macho
Breasts Amatiti
Face Sura
Hands Mkono
If you have to repeat it, you might want to say:
Nasema... I am saying/I say ...
And then ask ...
Unaskia? Do you hear/feel/understand
Aya! Yes
Hapana! No
Exclamations
Any of the following can be followed by “Wewe!”, saying the person you are talking to fits the description:
Mkora A person who ‘knows’
Mrembo A well-dressed or good looking person
Mkubwa A ‘big’ person (as in The Main Man)
Mjinga A foolish person
Sonko To be a boss or rich (more adjective than noun)
Then there are a number of questions that can be asked with one word:
Wapi? Where?
Nini? What?
Lini? When?
Nani? Who?
Gani? Which type?
Wewe You
Uko You
Mimi Me
Yeye He/she
Yako Yours
Yangu Mine
Nili I was
Nime I am
Nita I will
Hapa Here
Hapo/pale There
Enda Go
Endalea Go there, continue
Naenda I am going
Twende We go/Let's go
Ingia Enter
Kuja Come
Juu Up, high
Chini Down, low
Songa Move
Weka Put
Fanya Do
Fanya hivo Do this
Taka Want
Mingi Many
Kubwa Large
Kidogo Little/small/few
Ndogo Small (item)
Na And, with, have
Kwa To, by, for
Kutoka/toka From
Qualifications
Lakini But
Subabu Because
Bado Not yet
***
Joto Hot (body temperature)
Moto Warm, fire, cigarette light
Baridi Cold
Mvumbi Dust
Mvua Rain
Matope Mud
Possessives
When you want to say that you have something, Niko na means 'I am with', or 'I have'. And the most pleasing addition to this, for most Nairobians, is the word pesa (money).
Pesa Money
Credo Sheng for credit on your mobile
Sigara Cigarettes
Homa Fever
Ugonjwa Sickness
Pombe Alcohol
Dawa Medicine or drugs
In reply to the question: “Uko na …?” you will simply say “Iko” (I have) or “Sina” (not with).
***
Common expressions
Una fanya nini? What are you doing?
Una taka nini? What do you want?
Una enda wapi? Where are you going?
Common confusions
Mbele In front, forward
Mbali Far
Mbili Two
Nyumba(ni) Home or house
Nyuma Behind
Nyama Meat
Narudi I am coming back
Rudisha To put back
Dirisha Window
Matope Mud
Matoke A Kenyan food
Numbers
Moja One
Mbili Two
Tatu Three
Nne Four
Tano Five
Sita Six
Saba Seven
Nane Eight
Tisa Nine
Kumi Ten
Kumi na moja Eleven
Kumi na mbili Twelve
Hamsini Fifty
Mia moja One hundred
Mia mbili Two hundred
When specifying days of the week or months, English is most commonly used. I don't even think Nairobians know these words.
Times of Day
Times of day are expressed in Swahili as starting from 6am. In other words, “saa moja” is 6am plus 1 = 7am. “Saa kumi” is 6am + 10 = 4pm. It takes some getting used to.
Expression of Relative Times
Asabui Morning
Alasiri Afternoon
Jioni Night
Jana Yesterday
Usiku Today
Kesho Tomorrow
Baadaye Later
Mapema Early
***
And when asked, “How was it for you?”, you simply reply “Nili tamu sana!” (It was very sweet!)
-oOo-
1. Strictly speaking the people are Swahilis and the language is Kiswahili.
2. The greeting, “Jambo!” implies the further use of English in conversation and is usually accorded someone who looks like a newcomer to Kenya.
3. This piece got more hits than any other on my blog.
