Showing posts with label Danfo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Danfo. Show all posts

Saturday, February 01, 2020

Of Kannywood, Okada, Danfo: Nigerianisms and Language Evolution


(By Danica Salazar) - Release notes: Nigerian English
My English-speaking is rooted in a Nigerian experience and not in a British or American or Australian one. I have taken ownership of English.
          This is how acclaimed Nigerian writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie describes her relationship with English, the language which she uses in her writing, and which millions of her fellow Nigerians use in their daily communication. By taking ownership of English and using it as their own medium of expression, Nigerians have made, and are continuing to make, a unique and distinctive contribution to English as a global language. We highlight their contributions in this month’s update of the Oxford English Dictionary, as a number of Nigerian English words make it into the dictionary for the first time. 
The majority of these new additions are either borrowings from Nigerian languages, or unique Nigerian coinages that have only begun to be used in English in the second half of the twentieth century, mostly in the 1970s and 1980s.
One particularly interesting set of such loanwords and coinages has to do with Nigerian street food. The word buka, borrowed from Hausa and Yoruba and first attested in 1972, refers to a roadside restaurant or street stall that sells local fare at low prices. Another term for such eating places first evidenced in 1980 is bukateria, which adds to buka the –teria ending from the word cafeteria.

Thursday, May 02, 2019

Lagos: A City Still Becoming


(By Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie) - Still Becoming: At Home In Lagos With Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
The novelist has lived in Lagos on and off for a decade. Here, in an essay for Esquire's new Travel & Adventure issue, she reflects on life in Nigeria's biggest city
          Lagos will not court you. It is a city that is what it is. I have lived part-time in Lagos for 10 years and I complain about it each time I return from my home in the US — its allergy to order, its stultifying traffic, its power cuts. I like, though, that nothing about Lagos was crafted for the tourist, nothing done to appeal to the visitor. Tourism has its uses, but it can mangle a city, especially a developing city, and flatten it into a permanent shape of service: the city’s default becomes a simpering bow, and its people turn the greyest parts of themselves into colourful props. In this sense, Lagos has a certain authenticity because it is indifferent to ingratiating itself; it will treat your love with an embrace, and your hate with a shrug. What you see in Lagos is what Lagos truly is. 
          And what do you see? A city in a state of shifting impermanence. A place still becoming. In newer Lagos, houses sprout up on land reclaimed from the sea, and in older Lagos, buildings are knocked down so that ambitious new ones might live. A street last seen six months ago is different today, sometimes imperceptibly so — a tiny store has appeared at a corner — and sometimes baldly so, with a structure gone, or shuttered, or expanded. Shops come and go. Today, a boutique’s slender mannequin in a tightly pinned dress; tomorrow, a home accessories shop with gilt-edged furniture on display.

Tuesday, February 06, 2018

This is Lagos: Tales From Daily Bus Ride IV

(By Jude Idada)

The driver kept his hand on the horn of the bus.
The honk was loud, continous and vexatious.
And as though obeying the order of a conductor in an orchestra, the other drivers in the cars and buses around the bus, did the exact thing.
The din was deafening.
The abuses started flying in pidgin and Yoruba as each driver cursed out the other driver.
I watched in silence from the first row of the bus in which I sat.
Wondering how vehicularly quiet the streets of Toronto were in comparison to those of Lagos. So quiet, you could go through a year without hearing the honk of a car.
We were heading to Victoria Garden City in Lekki and the traffic jam at the Jakande Junction - fifth roundabout - was holding us hostage.
I noticed his stare.

This is Lagos: Tales From Daily Bus Ride III

(By Jude Idada)

I stood at the bus-stop for nearly an hour.
Lekki.
Buses and taxis stopped and drove on.
After the conductors had called out.
"Obalende!"
"CMS!"
A few actually called out -
"Oshodi!"
I was heading for Freedom Park on Broad Street.
I had hoped to hear them call out.
"Race course!"
My plan was to get there and walk over to Freedom Park.
But none had called that out.
It was hot.
I was sweating.
Finally another bus slowed down in front of me.

Thursday, January 11, 2018

This is Lagos: Tales From Daily Bus Ride II

(By Adesegun Damazio) - Tales from the early morning bus... 
**************
CONDUCTOR: Sand field, Law School, CMS! Sand field, Law School, CMS!!
DRIVER: **shouts at the conductor** Weyrey awon LASTMA wà leyin wà o, instead ko watch, o n pe ero weyrey (Mad man! LASTMA officers are behind us o. Instead of you to "watch", you're calling mad passengers)
CONDUCTOR: Weyrey lawon people yen sha. Your side! your side! (Those people are mad sha. Your side, your side - which colloquially means "zoom off, zoom off")
**Few minutes later**
CONDUCTOR: Yes sir, your money.
PASSENGER 1: Conductor I'm not comfortable here. Please tell them to shift.
CONDUCTOR: Abeg help am shift for there. Na four four.
PASSENGER 1: Please help me shift

Saturday, July 22, 2017

This is Lagos: Tales From Daily Bus Ride 1

(By Adesegun Damazio) - Tales from the early morning bus: 
********************
CONDUCTOR: CMS Two Hundred CMS! Abeg enter with your change o, I just dey comot. Abeg enter with your 200 naira change.
*passengers troop in*
*few minutes into the journey*
CONDUCTOR: Yes, your money there...
PASSENGER 1: Hands him 500 naira
CONDUCTOR: You no hear word abi?
PASSENGER 1: Eti iya e lo di (it's your mother that is deaf)
CONDUCTOR: *fires the middle-aged Yórùbà woman a hostile look and curses under his breath* Yezzz, your money...
PASSENGER 2: Hands him 1000 naira
CONDUCTOR: Oda pe gbogbo ti fe ya were laaro yii (It's like all of you want to run mad this morning)
PASSENGER 2: Na you sabi the nonsense wey you dey talk. Just gimme my change
CONDUCTOR: Ori iya yín ma pe wa nisin sin (You people's mothers' heads will be correct now now)