Guest post! Liberian English, by Milea

Milea has been awesome enough to write a post about Liberian English. She describes it far better than I could, since she's been living it. Enjoy!

 

“Shrimma Shrekrimma Sherma Surma Sheerma.”

 

This is the sound made by the more resolve-testing Liberian children as they imitate the way American English speakers imitate the sounds of Liberian English. No you read that right. Native American English speakers walk around Liberia intentionally talking in “accented” English in order to be understood by Liberians. Some of these Westerners even took language lessons and passed an oral examination in order to be ordained ready to communicate in Liberia. Hooray for the diverse ways in which tax dollars are squandered.

If you are sensing sarcasm here, you are right again. If you walk about with a native Liberian English speaker, point at things, and ask, “What tha thing?” [What is that thing?] you will find out, first, that the Liberian English language teacher who gave you this assignment as homework has a demeaning and vindictive sense of humor and, second, that the Liberian English vocabulary is nearly identical to the American English vocabulary. Some fun differences do exist – Liberians say “current” instead of “electricity” or “power”; “skin tight” instead of “leggings”; and “trunk” instead of “throw” – but 90% of the time a spade is a . . . shoot they call that one a hook. 80% of the time a pot is a pot.

 

Vocabulary aside, however, Liberian English is so heavily accented and has such a confused word-ordering that it can be almost unintelligible to an inexperienced ear. And vice- versa. I live in a very rural village in Liberia and, upon returning from a Peace Corps training where I spoke American English every day, was scolded by my market ladies. “Wha happe-na? I na hearin you. You tak slippry.” [What is going on? I cannot understand you. You are speaking too fast.]

 

Experts say this is because Liberian English is truly its own unique language - not a pidgin language. This is due to the fact that it has evolved internally long after outside influence from freed slaves, traders, and soldiers came to an end. In fact, Liberian English has become so official that it is used in TV shows and on the radio. What with the Liberian election coming up, the National Election Council has been running radio advertisements that say, “Elehtion is erybody's busness. Go na-na to de elehtion centa neah you. You muss be 18 year or olda to ge de vota cart.” [Elections are everyone's responsibility. Go to a voter registration office as soon as possible. You must be 18 years or older to get a voter card.] Additionally, linguists have recognized pronunciation patterns in Liberian English that are unique to African tribal languages ¹.

 

I'm no expert, but that has not stopped me from coming to a few linguistic conclusions of my own. The first is that Liberian English has some characteristics usually associated with someone learning American English as a second language – such as adding too many or forgetting plurals and being completely unoccupied with the idea of tenses. Also, Southern American English sounds extremely foreign to many native Liberian English speakers. My closest Peace Corps Volunteer neighbor is from North Carolina and has that rich, honey tipped, North Carolinian rhythm to his speech: “Now I know ya'll aren't tryin'a roast a pig without me.” The vowels have just the hint of a twang and Y's are stretched and melded with succeeding vowel sounds. Liberians who meet him have come running back to me in astonishment saying, “Da Peace Corps mah derh, aye na understand da mah!” [I can not understand that other Peace Corps Volunteer!]

 

Liberian English, like Southern American English, lets ending consonants slide. But Liberian English, unlike Southern American English, confuses hard “L”, “D”, and “R” sounds, meaning “There” might sound breathy like “Deh” or “Der” or “Dehl” depending on the person or the phase of the moon. This oddity gives Liberian English a slight Asian flavor to my ear. Liberian English is also unique in word repetition - “na-na” meaning “now”, and “two-two” meaning “a pair”. Word emphasis choice is equally distinct. Instead of emphasizing a certain word to make it more important in a sentence a whole phrase might be emphasized by adding -o! or “bad way!” to the end of it. For example, a Liberian English speaker might say, “I like that shirt baaaad way!” or “The soup tastes sweet-o!”.

Some days, I do have trouble convincing myself Liberian English is it's own unique language. I would much prefer to reach into everyone's mouth and pull out the wad of gauze that seems to be hindering and muffling clear speech. This, of course, is not a fair assessment, but honestly my name is Milea not Mahreeyeha. When I am trying to imitate Liberian English I use the back of my tongue near my molars instead of the front which seems to tense up my neck muscles, while simultaneously trying to will my tongue into jello. The verbal result, no doubt, would cause me to poke fun at the speaker if I were also a small child running butt naked through a field of goats.

 

Nevertheless, I have a higher success rate being understood when I try to speak Liberian English than when I don't. Though I have started to suspect this is due more to the intonation, rhythmic pauses, and sheer emotion Liberians put into speaking then the actual sound or vocabulary of the language. Liberian English is full of sighs, oaths, exclamations, and wrist movements that aren't verbal, but are necessary for clear communication. Some things are not said without thanking God: “How da day?” “I tank Gah-o!”. Other things are not said without adding a breathy marker of disapproval: “You see this test paper here? Chee! That boy na been studying-o!” While other things simply aren't said at all, such as “No, sorry. I do not want to take a handful of that huge mass of oily rice the six of you are currently eating.” The only answer available in Liberian English to the invitation, “Come let's eat,” is to squat down among the eaters, take a heaping handful of hot rice with your right hand, shove it into your mouth – palm first, and smile.

 

1    Read Cracking the Code: The Confused Traveler's Guide to Liberian English for more historical and phonological details.