Sunday Times

LANGUAGE

Nca speak

- ILLUSTRATI­ON: SIPHU GQWETHA

‘Howzit!”

“Sharp-sharp!”

“Ag, shame …”

“Yebo!”

“Nought, bru ….”

“Heita!”

“Otherwise you well?”

Yoh, we South Africans mos know how to create a vocab that unites us all, x-sê! Schmaaking what you see? Read on …

A is for awê

“Awê, hoe lykit?”

“Keen for a dop after graft?” “Awê.”

“Checkers has a Tassies special! Awê!” A greeting, an affirmatio­n, and an exclamatio­n: ja-nee, kyk, this monosyllab­ic aphorism is more multipurpo­se than a larney Vaalie’s Kruger K-Way camping kit.

B is for babelas

Hangover, katzenjamm­er, delirium tremens. Jislaaik, Eurocentri­sm does not do the siff sensation of post-phuza vrotness justice. You know of what I speak! Min lus for the morningaft­er babelas? Stick to Bring Your Own Bompie jols, bokkie.

C is for china

A tjommie, guzzie, bru, connection, friend. Derived from Cockney rhyming slang (china plate rhymes with mate). Your chinas are the top dogs. The soul ous. The beulah brasse. The kiff kids. The kwaai cats.

D is for dala what you must

A dictionary entry of “dala”: da•la /daah-lah/ (v) 1. to do 2. to create. Any South African, anywhere: “Going through kak? Just remember to dala what you must.” Simply put? The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing. (Kap aan before you kap om.)

E is for eish

Popularise­d by the preferred dop of your archetypal Afrikaner (Klippies of niks nie!), eish isn’t merely an alternativ­e way of pronouncin­g ys. Frustratio­n: as in “Eish, why is this blerrie robot always out of order?”; disbelief, as in “Eish, I can’t believe I spent 500 ZARs on e-Tolls this month”; and even joy, as in “Eish, that was a kiff jol!” can all be conveyed via this single word. Impressive, nè?

F is for finish and klaar

That’s it.

G is for gwaai

Pick the china you’d want to bum a smoke off: a) “May I have a cigarette, mate?” or b) “Swaai a gwaai there, my guzzie.”

(Selected B? One time.)

H is for hundreds

Is life lekker? Are you in agreement with someone? Are you dala’ing what you must? Then everything’s hundreds, bru, hundreds! (And yes, the repetition is required.)

I is for izzit

Throwback Thursday to the nation’s favourite caricaturi­st Afrikaans advert, which had us all replacing our soutie “is its?” with “izzits”.

J is for jissis

And its numerous variants. Ja, no, look, hey — from jassis to jislaaik to jislaaikit, South Africans have found lank visionary ways of blasphemin­g without offending the religious among us. Halala!

K is for kiff

Why struggle, choosing between cool, dope, rad, schweet and awesome when you can just gooi a kiff “kiff”? Finish and klaar.

L is for larney

Fênsie, grênd, posh, swanky, bourgie, zwish. Larneys schmaak dinner parties, Woolies and complainin­g about how windy Cape Town is. Specially if they don’t live in the Mother Shitty.

M is for mlungu

“No, Shereen. It’s not offensive. Debbie shared an article about it on Facebook.” If ever there was one word met with both trepidatio­n and self-parodying wit by white South Africans, this is it. It is regarded as a comical term of endearment by 95% of SA’s mlungus. The remaining 5% should do themselves a favour and send Debbie a friend request.

X is for x-sê

Y is for yoh

N is for nca

Kiff squared. Lekkerder than lekker. Naaser than Naas Botha. The nca’ist of all Saffaisms to say out loud. You can’t go wrong with this one, ous!

O is for one time

When “yes” or “I agree” is too dry, opt for “one time”. It’ll always do the trick.

P is for phuza

This Zulu term for imbibing has entered the local lexicon with a purpose that skriks for niks, uniting Mzansi’s bacchanali­an revellers via the nca weekly tradition of Phuza Thursday. Tjorts to that! (PSA @our president’s slogan-writers: Cyril Ramaphuza Thursday has a nice ring to it, ’ey?)

Q is for qha

A Xhosa adverb that translates to “only”. Add it to any sentence when you really have something to emphasise. “I can’t go out tonight. Janu-worry left me with qha R10.20 in my bank account!”

R is for rawl

A brawl, but laak, the boet version thereof. One oke tuning another oke swak? Jissis bru, you’re now mos asking for a rawl! Think fragile-masculinit­y-meets-theKyalami-mamparras. *cue eye-rawl*

S is for Saffa

Are you stoked for keDezemba? Can you tell the difference between a kota and a bunny chow? Do you secretly think one of your colleagues is a bit of a moegoe? Has it taken you longer than the allotted 10minute break to buy pies and gwaais during a 12- (read: 14-) hour Intercape bus trip? Are you gatvol of load-shedding? Have you ever been kakked on for leaving your takkies at home on atletiekda­g? Is Zam-Buk truly the real Makoya? Do NikNaks-stained fingers make you the moer in? If “yes” to any of the above — awê, you’re a Saffa!

T is for ’tsek

Often accompanie­d by the presence of an unwelcome V&A Waterfront seagull’s attempt to zop your slaptjips, this interjecti­on demanding something to bugger off has a 50-50 success rate. SA’s fowls are tawwe bliksems, my guzzies. Yet the pleasure one derives from hearing and/or uttering an impassione­d “’tsek, djy!” is second to none.

U is for umkhaba

Ah yes, the (less brutal) Zulu equivalent of a boeppens, aka the jutting gut that many a Saffa proudly cradles owing to one too many Cyril Ramaphuza Thursdays. #GeenSkaam.

V is for Vaalie

The easiest way to spot a Vaalie? Head to a coastal destinatio­n in December. They’re plentiful in Plett, Umhlanga, and CT. GP licence plates aside, keep a sharp eye out for anyone who — after spending a few seconds in the sun — resembles the opposite of a lesser camouflage­d transvaale­nse: they burn … faster than you can say “lut’s claamb Laahn’s Head”. ’strues God.

W is for whatkind/what kind

In Durbz? Exchange howzit with whatkind: “Whatkind, cuz!” Elsewhere in the country? It’s a proclamati­on of indignatio­n aswell: “You charfing my chick? What kind, bru?!”

Had to take some liberties with this one, x-sê. Askies …

Shocked? Surprised? Stoked? Yoh can be applied to all three emotions. Elongate the ô sound for max effect.

Z is for zamalek

Or, as our Canadian connection­s would say, “Carling Black Label”. Yebo, zamalekker’s origins can be traced back to the land of ice hockey and excessive politeness. (Honestly — what kind?) But we’ll get back to that now-now ’cause this mlungu is lank keen for a post-graft dop.

Hamba kahle, chinas.

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