adminSTREET life has codes. There is a way to do things, uniquely the street way. The language is different too. You say what you like.
Meet me by the fast food corner and say ‘Etha’. Do not bother about my health or that of my children. Just say ‘Zithini, Ndeipi, Kuhambani, Zithini, Kuri Sei or Wadiyi? Everyone in the city is saying it. Why would one be left out?
Conventional speak does not sound well in some urban spaces. It is at times not “sexy”.
Leave formal talk for the office, that is if you make your money where being formal is a religion.
Youthful managers, particularly those of an urban background, are using street language at work.
The streets have coined words that have become part of everyday communication. Old folks, the ones who walked the streets before us would hate to speak the language.
They call it slang – the language of delinquents. It took a while for the older generation to accept being called masalu, topi, ankeli or khule.
But, is it rude to have a new language?
Street language, like English, has been canonised. It is spoken in urban areas. Youths patronise it. That is why fashion designers are making a killing by printing street words on Tees and caps.
Being part of a growing youth culture, street language is gaining ground in the creative industry. Corporate adverting is using the language. Read any billboard by the roadside if it is hard for you to believe this.
Even politicians are learning how to speak like the urban youths.
Musicians have long fallen into the culture. Song writers just cannot ignore popular words used by their fans.
Words we hear in many of our favourite songs come from the street. Maskiri, Mcheznana, POY, Sniper and Winky Dee sing in a language that elders do not find meaning.
Kwaito and hip hop also added to the street language dictionary. Tupac taught me to greet my friend with ‘wasup dwaag?’ and Zola made it sound well to say ‘mpintshi yami’ instead of my friend.
Urban music is the only library that documents the street language. If you want to compile a street language dictionary, the urban music playlist is the best archive.
Artistes have the power, they spread the language. They blend into the youth culture and sing in the language understood by urbanites.
I would call the language revolution. The street has toppled old age languages and made a new one.
If it was not for the musicians, some hard nuts would not have allowed their tongues to spit those words. When Oskido calls women ocherry we just have to follow that. I remember in one of our street conversations by the bridge eKasi, a friend called out “Kalawa magents”. I did not understand it.
He was alarming us. His mom had just seen us puffing a cigarette. So why cry out the word Kalawa?
Kalawa is the name of the famous South African house music production company, Kalawa Jazzme. Youths in townships have taken the name to mean anything that spells danger, because all artistes that come from the stable are just too hot. Their music is a threat to other artistes – a danger.
Fans are creative like their musicians. The street language culture has defined the functionality of music further. There is more than just listening and dancing. It is not all about the dance floor.
In South Africa tsotsitaal is the certified Kwaito language. The influence of the informal words in townships has been acceptable as the contemporary urban culture.
What we speak, musicians sing.
In as much as we are proud to speak the language of the street, there is a problem to it. Most of the words are from foreign musicians, in particular the South Africans. Now that the crazy season is upon us, we are spending less time in the sunshine and longer nights partying.
This is the season when it is cool to fit in with whatever happens on the street.
There is nothing wrong with partying and speaking the language of the street. It is a culture inherited from our village elders. Let us dance. It is African way of life.
The South Africans are invading the city and want to sing to their drum. We embrace that, hoping to learn new street words. In Bulawayo one of the biggest gatherings will be on 27 December. Bulawayo boy Oskido and friends invites us to his home coming party.
I hear DJ Fresh is hosting a gig tonight at some club.
In our merry making, let us call for top drawer performance from these artistes. After all we pay a lot, from the little we have, to get to the shows.
These artistes are purveyors of the street language we speak in this part of the country. We love them but do not expect shoddy performances. I have been to shows where foreign artistes leave the stage with little to write home about. Hopes are dashed as fans, starved of music by local artistes, are filled with venomous anger. Sometimes the anger does boil over and fans register their discontent.
DJ Cleo knows how it feels to be hit by a rotten tomato in the face.
Of late, in Zimbabwe, foreign artistes seem to quench a lot of fans’ long bottled up thirst. But, these fans get second rate performances with no enough electricity to bring to life a light bulb.
The musicians do not know we speak their language. They care less of our emotional attachment to their works.
Foreign artistes, highly paid as they are, seem to reserve their worst for Zimbabwean music fans. The list of awful performances is endless. To name would be to put a shame on some careers.
We love them still.
Local musos would rant at the fact that we are obsessed by South African music to the extent of speaking their tsotsitaal.
Jeys Marabini believes the problem of identity crisis in Bulawayo is the problem.
“We as artistes are not respected within our own borders and that is the crux of the matter. Some of the people in Bulawayo do not know who they truly are, hence they identify with artistes and music from South Africa.
Well said Jeys.
Until musicians get to know the language of the street, they will not win the hearts of the fans.
In Harare, Freeman and Sniper Storm are giving other artistes a headache. They chant ghetto stories in the ghetto language. Were it not for piracy, such artistes would be selling gold and platinum.
Next time you hear a street language conversation, do not ask, but listen.
Online Reporter