Beyond the twang, English is not a measure of brilliance

A year before I dropped out, my campus student leadership invited Dr PLO Lumumba to speak to the students.

I’ve long since forgotten what he said, but I remember one thing for sure: he said it exceptionally well. His flawless use of the English language thoroughly impressed everyone.

Years later, I was flummoxed when Dr Lumumba hosted a short-lived show on QTV in perfect Kiswahili. How could this man switch from English to Kiswahili so effortlessly and still succeed at being gripping to listen to?

Among the galaxy of stars that pass through my set on 'The Trend' every week are a number who are not comfortable to speak in English.

I’m always happy to conduct the interview in my halting Kiswahili, or the urban street language Sheng that I’m more at home with. It loosens their tongue, allowing them to speak more freely and passionately than if they struggled through English.

Some guests that have exhibited that include musicians Willy Paul and Jaguar, suspended Cabinet Secretary Kazungu Kambi and Senator Mike Sonko.

Allowing them to speak in a language they’re comfortable with gives them the freedom to express their ideas clearly, with nuance and perspective that would otherwise be lost in English.

But the audience almost always takes it as a sign of weakness, lack of intelligence or poor education; never mind that Kiswahili and English are both official languages with equal weight in Kenya and being fluent in either should be more than sufficient.

Some viewers automatically assume those that can’t speak fluent English are dumb and are an embarrassment to their jobs, craft or their families.

I saw it again last week when I interviewed the new National Authority for Campaign against Alcohol and Drug Abuse (Nacada) director Charles Njagua Kanyi.

A flashy-musician-turned-State-House-insider, Mr Kanyi is at his best in the languages he sings in — a mixture of Kiswahili and Sheng. But some viewers were not impressed.

BRITISH JANITOR

“How can the president appoint someone without a degree who can’t even speak proper English?” the naysayers posed.

It is the same mentality that teaches impressionable young ones growing up that you’re not good enough unless you can speak impeccable English.

That colonial mindset has relegated Kiswahili to a secondary language and bred a generation of Kenyans who struggle to speak their own national lingua franca. I was put to shame a few weeks ago when the French ambassador to Kenya, Rémi Maréchaux, spoke to me in better Kiswahili than I could respond to.

He lived in Tanzania in the ’90s and still speaks the language of our people like a native.

Yet we as a people have a crippling inferiority complex that glorifies English at the expense of a local language. Indeed, anyone who is fluent enough in the Queen’s language is automatically assumed to be intelligent and deserving of attention.

For every PLO Lumumba, there are sweet-talking conmen plying their nefarious trade in the open but under the guise of a quick tongue and a foreign accent.

A wealthy Kenyan with a Kikuyu or Dholuo accent would have trouble booking an appointment with a Cabinet Secretary on phone, but a British janitor would probably get right through because of how he or she sounds.

I watched with amusement how people on social media gushed when Dr Lumumba and the equally impressive Barrack Muluka were interviewed together on TV. Style is the name of the game, it seems, substance be damned.

It is probably for this same reason that eloquent, well dressed talking heads get elected.

It is for this same reason that the average Kenyan probably believes that a white person is better in everything. Many Caucasians speak in a strange nasal way, come with a foreign accent and seem to have more money than most of us.

Many Africans will idolise them in an interaction that borders on hero worship, so they buy into that hype and some land in “Africa” with a saviour complex or an automatic feeling of superiority.

English is the global language of business and interaction, but we shouldn’t discount Kiswahili. Whenever somebody isn’t comfortable in the colonial language, give him or her the benefit of doubt and interrogate what he or she has to say anyway.

Some people may not be able to dazzle you with their brilliance, but they can use their excellent knowledge of the English language to perplex you with rubbish.

Why so much fuss about the royal baby, again?

“Woman gives birth to baby” is how one cheeky British publication reported the birth of Prince George on its cover in July 2013. “BREAKING NEWS: Woman Gives Birth To Second Baby,” was how the Huffington Post updated that story Saturday when the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge welcomed a baby daughter.

I caught anchor Kay Burley outside the Lindo Wing of London’s St Mary’s Hospital. She was gushing, speaking to anybody in her way and radiating all the joy of every English person.

The BBC and CNN brought out their royal correspondents to update us on the minutiae of royal trivia and the queue to the throne.

(Related: How does one become a “Royal Correspondent” exactly? Is it a fulfilling line of work?)

Back to the baby, already more successful and privileged than most people ever will be, she left the hospital to a lifetime of comfort. “Experts” mused breathlessly about how the baby could be worth £1 billion (Sh143 billion)) to the British economy over her lifetime.

A spectacle was in full swing and you could almost tell that the pack of journalists outside the hospital were disappointed the birth had happened so quickly.

They were just settling in for a weekend of pointless coverage.

All hail the baby!

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Revolving experts take up boxing

In the week leading up to the “Fight of the Century”, everyone on my timeline turned into a professional pundit on all things boxing.

Floyd Mayweather’s lifestyle and Manny Pacquiao’s religion were discussed with the same faux expertise as how boxing is scored and why either was going to win or lose.

It is always fascinating to watch this seasonal punditry, where people become overnight commentators on whatever is on the headlines.

One day, they’re pros at the changing Kenyan political landscape, the very next week they acquire a graduate qualification on terrorism and radicalisation, right before they become environmental gurus the week after.

The only drawback to this is that all the necessary context and nuance is lost in the race to attract shares and retweets.

The person who can oversimplify a complex subject to its lowest common inaccuracy appears to win the Internet, so everybody tries to achieve that.

What a shame!

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FEEDBACK:

On how local news and gossip blogs fail readers with their clickbaits

THE TRUTH! Larry, that’s the truth! I have read stories with very enticing headlines but no solid information. They should investigate before writing. I hope they’ll read this!  Mutei Munywoki, Facebook

FULL OF PRIDE:

Larry, you have terribly failed to accept that blogs are here to stay. I wonder why you are so blinded by mainstream media, as much as it is good.

You don’t expect a blog to embark on a story on “How Larry got to the airport and flew out to South Africa”. You picked a story we did about a peck you received in South Africa from some lady you know too well.

You have also revealed that you lied about a TV series that you said you would be starting with the heavy lass. It seems you did this deliberately to get an angle for your article.

Clearly you had run out of ideas and you had to find a story to write. Well, you got it and went on to vomit your disgust at the manner in which we lied and put up clickbaits to gain traction and reads from our consumers. That is not the point though.

Clearly, you are a desperate fame seeker. You are already famous for whatever reasons but it seems you can’t get enough of this.

Many have come and gone and they never showed this kind of pride.

Blogs have said everything about them but they never took to the local dailies to waste a whole page to write c**p about people in the same pitch, playing almost the same game. 

Edward Chweya, Ghafla!

FREE PUBLICITY:

Larry, good one there. You got them... but they say no publicity is bad publicity.

For instance, you just got me clicking on some of the blogs you mentioned which I didn’t know existed before! Moses Mbugua, Facebook

KIDDING ME?

Larry, you are guilty of irrational reasoning. You must therefore not be trusted as a media personality as you risk feeding us with garbage because nobody knows what fool you are about to play next.

I urge my fellow Kenyans not to take you seriously.

Frankline Nestor, Facebook

RARE SENSE:

Larry, there are few people left that talk sense, and you are among them. You are making a difference man, and that’s what matters. I have been in a journalism class and I know exactly what you mean. Proud of you.

Felister Joseph, Facebook

A NON-STORY:

Larry, there you go again, creating a non-story about how you created a non-story, so the non-story for next column will be about the one you told about the one you had told the previous week? LOL.

@JeiiJii, Twitter

PURE MEDIOCRITY:

Larry, I heard that you and Jeff Koinange (a man I deeply revere) made a bet on who would interview Barack Obama first and I immediately put my money on the Emmy Award-winning Jeff Koinange, not because he is the one that can actually do it, but because he is the one who should do it.

I mean, what’s your track record again? Vera Sidika? Huddah? Davido? Puh-leeeeze! Let’s face it, your hugely-popular show, 'The Trend', is really the Ghafla! version of TV.

It’s a ratchet tabloid show that has, for years now, survived on sensationalism, low-brow celebrity guests, grainy cat videos, Hollywood worship and some other mundane stuff, yet we have never penned a piece castigating the show, it’s mediocrity notwithstanding.

Irari Ngugi, Ghafla!