You know what I find interesting? People are more likely to think you're a local (not Ghanaian, although that might come with it too) based on how good your pidgin is and not your twi/ga. Ghanaians abroad might know twi and be able to speak it with a local accent but pidgin??
A customer at the library asked me a question I wasn't prepared for.
Customer: Excuse me.
Customer: Why does this machine require flesh?
Me: ...what?
Customer: This machine.
Customer: I am touching it, but it does not work.
Customer: Is because... flesh?
At this point I was trying very hard to figure out whether I had accidentally wandered into a horror movie.
Then she held up her hands.
She was wearing gloves.
Me: Oh!
Me: The touchscreen.
Me: Right.
Me: Yeah, it probably can't detect your fingers through the gloves.
Customer: Ah.
Customer: Okay.
Customer: Sorry to bother.
Me: No, no.
Me: That's the best thing I've heard all week.
She laughed.
The machine worked.
And I thought that was the end of it.
It was not.
Now whenever one of our library computers stops working, someone inevitably says:
Staff: It requires flesh.
Staff: The machine must be fed.
Another staff member: Who's volunteering?
So thanks to one perfectly innocent question, our library now sounds like a cult every time the self-checkout freezes.
The problem started when I said "e choke" in a meeting.
My colleague Linda from accounting paused mid-slide. She said, Is everything okay with your throat?
I said, No, Linda, it means the numbers are impressive.
She wrote that down. She literally wrote it down. Three days later she told our boss the quarterly projections were choking her. HR got involved.
I work in Toronto, in a glass office where the only other Nigerian is a man named Tunde who has completely assimilated. The kind who pronounces "schedule" like he invented the language. He avoids me in the breakroom because I remind him of jollof rice and his mother's expectations.
So I suffer alone.
Last month I told a project manager that the deadline was giving me wahala. He emailed my supervisor asking if wahala was a vendor we needed to loop in. I now have a meeting on Friday about clarifying communication styles.
The worst was when I said "abeg" to an intern. She thought it was a new productivity tool. She searched the internal software catalogue. By Tuesday, IT had opened a ticket.
I tried explaining slangs to my coworkers once. Big mistake. Now every Monday morning, Kevin from sales greets me with "How far?" but he says it like "How far, my good man?" and waits for a response as if I am a foreign exchange student he is sponsoring.
Linda has started saying "e choke" whenever she completes a spreadsheet. She does finger quotes around it. She has made a PowerPoint slide titled "Nigerian Business Expressions for Cross-Cultural Synergy."
I sat Tunde down last week. I said, Tunde, you need to help me. They've weaponized our entire lexicon.
He adjusted his cardigan. He said, I'm sorry, I don't really speak it anymore.
I said, You were born in Owerri.
He said, That was a long time ago. He stirred his green tea. No sugar. No milk. Just assimilation and regret.
Yesterday I overheard my boss on a client call. She said the deal was giving her gbe body. I had told her "gbe body" means being alert. She now uses it to mean proactive. The client loved it. They want it in the brochure.
I have created a monster.
The office Christmas party is next week and Kevin told me he is planning to say "shey you dey whine me" during his toast. He has been practising pronunciation with a YouTube video titled "Speak Nigerian in 5 Minutes."
I will not be attending.
Every diaspora office has one person fighting for their slangs and one Tunde drinking green tea pretending he cannot remember the taste of chin chin.
This might be a hot take but if you're pre planning your entire set, every song, every mix point from start to finish, you might aswell pre-record the set, come and press play on the night and that's that ๐คท๐พโโ๏ธ