literature

Benin Travel Report #1 : Language Obsession

After a little over three weeks in the country of Benin, I decided it was time to share some of my obsessive thoughts on language, literature and…just generally people I talk to on a daily basis.

JPN

Jardin des Plantes, Porto Novo

Never multilingual enough

Most Beninois I’ve met are fluent in at least 3 languages – usually including Fon and French, but combinations vary – while some are able to communicate in an impressive number of languages spoken in the region. Multilingualism is definitely the norm and younger generations are now going one step further to embrace English and Mandarin Chinese as foreign languages.

And it’s not just talk: parents are ready to spend their hard-earned CFA Francs on sending their children to Ghana during the school holidays for them to improve their English in a conducive learning environment. There are summer language schools popping up on every block, bilingual English/French schools, and kids randomly greeting me in English on the street. From what I’ve been able to observe in Cotonou, learning English is very popular as the language is seen as a key to unlock study and job opportunities around the world.

Another upcoming trend is the study of Mandarin Chinese, both at university and at language centers such as the Confucius Institute. There is a lot of interest in Mandarin from young people who are looking to bag scholarships to China but are also keenly aware of the rise of Chinese businesses on the continent, and investing in the language as a way of keeping ahead in a competitive job market.

My impression is that young people’s attitude towards foreign language learning is positive, since these popular languages are meant to increase their chances of achieving a desirable lifestyle, but also incredibly confident and driven. While practically every single person I’ve told that I am learning Yorùbá has asked me if I found it difficult and seemed a bit incredulous, I don’t hear language learners saying English or Chinese are a big challenge to them. They just go for it!

On the situation of indigenous languages

When I look back at the past 3 weeks I’ve spent here, meeting quite a few professionals and academics involved in language-related fields such as linguistics, language instruction, indigenous language promotion, it is striking to realise that for the most part, they are forced to either create their own learning materials at great expense to themselves and/or their institutions, or rely on books imported from Nigeria. Based on my contacts’ assessment and my own short experience in the country, publishing in indigenous languages in Benin is virtually non-existent.

However, Yorùbá language and literature are taught at undergraduate levels at Université Abomey-Calavi and the numbers are very encouraging: every year, over 400 linguistics major are enrolled in the Yorùbá elective at various levels. Some of them may even be poets in the making for all we know! With enough support from teachers and publishing industry players, literature from Benin could in future become a better reflection of the linguistic landscape of the country. Already, Dr Adjẹran has a poetry collection in Yorùbá coming out very soon and his colleague at Université Abomey-Calavi, Pr Ige Mamoud, is working on a monolingual Yorùbá dictionary as well as Yorùbá learning materials for Benin.

That’s not all there is to Benin…

I’ve been dwelling mostly on Yorùbá language and literature in this first report because this is where my current interests lie but from my wanderings in the streets of Cotonou, Porto Novo and Ouidah, I took away some other peculiar stories and observations.

For instance, did you know that TVs are absolutely everywhere, even the smallest neighbourhood kiosk, but almost nobody here watches Benin TV channels? Or that motorcycle taxis wear different uniform colours depending on the city where they operate?

I will talk about this in my next post, coming up later in the week. But for now, back to work.

Deciphering Character Names in Literary Fiction

640px-Ibadan

After chatting with a Chinese student who is considering joining my school next semester, I can safely say that I am not the only one who became interested in learning Yoruba following repeated encounters with this language in books by Nigerian authors, either in the form of dialogues, italicized words, or – yes – character names.

Understanding Yoruba names and dialogues in English langage fiction is usually not necessary to enjoy reading but it can sometimes enrich the experience. It’s part of what makes langage learning so engaging to me!

 

The Alao children’s names explained

The Secret Lives of Baba Segi’s Wives, Lola Shoneyin‘s debut novel, is a brilliantly caustic tale of family drama. The story revolves around Baba Segi’s household, composed of himself, his four wives and seven children :

From the eldest child to the youngest, he called them by their names : Segi and Akin, a daughter before a son, from his first wife ; Tope, Afolake and Motun, three girls born eleven months apart, from the second ; and Femi and Kole, sons smugly birthed by Iya Femi, his third wife. (excerpt from chapter 1)

Have you ever wondered what Baba Segi’s children’s names meant ?

Sẹ̀gi is short for Sẹ̀gilọl (sẹ̀gi.ni.ọlá). Sẹ̀gi is an expensive type of bead and the name means « Sẹ̀gi is wealth ». Incidentally, this is also the name of the narrator in what is considered to be the first novel in Yorùbá, Itan Igbesi-Aiye Emi Segilola, published as a series of 30 instalments in Akede Eko in 1930. The abbreviated name Sẹ̀gi could also stand for Sẹ̀gilad(sẹ̀gi.ni.adé) « Sẹ̀gi is crown / head ».

Akin means « warrior, brave man »

Tọpe is short for Tèmitọpe (tèmi.tọpe) « Mine / my situation deserves gratefulness »

Afọlákẹ́ (a.fi.ọlá.kẹ́) « the one pampered with wealth »

Motún is a short form of Motúnráyọ̀ (mo.tún.rí.ayọ̀) « I have experienced joy again »

Fẹ́mi is the shortened version of Olúwafẹ́mi (Olúwa.fẹ́.mi) « God loves me »

Kọlé is from Kọlédowó (kọ.ilé.de.owó) «Build a house in anticipation of wealth »

Unfortunately, the fourth and youngest wife Bọlánlé (Bá.ọlá.ní.ilé “the one that met wealth in the house”) has failed to give birth to a child. A new addition to the family, Bọlánlé stands out because of her somewhat more priviledged social background and her university education.

The aptly named retired police officer

In search of a solution to his misfortune, Baba Segi finds himself at a dingy bar where he meets up with a callous retired police sergent, the aptly named Ọláọ̀pá (ọlá.ọ̀pá « the benefit/wealth/glory of the baton »). The name is interesting also because it rhymes with the Yoruba translation of “policeman”: Ọlọ́pàá (the wielder of the baton). This is a name given to them because of how colonial police officers always went about with batons instead of firearms.

Throughout the novel, various characters express their perception of Bọ́lánlé’s social status. In the passage in question, language is put forward as a marker of class by Ọláọ̀pá:

Atanda ! You want to land Baba Segi in jail ? Who would dare to drag a graduate ? When she opens her mouth and English begins to pour from it like heated palm oil, the constable will be so captivated, he will throw our friend behind bars!

Though Ọláọ̀pá is but a secondary character in the novel, I found his boisterous ways endearing. Here is a respected man in the community, husband to four wives, boasting about his manly performance and yet we come to understand just how saddled with insecurities he is when faced with the case of the “graduate wife”.

Can you translate the names of your favourite fictional characters?


Photo credit: “Ibadan” by Dassiebtekreuz on Wikipedia. CC BY 2.5  License.