I been speak yu

After school the other day my daughter, Seffy, went to do her homework and the young fella, Kibby, was up to something (probably no good, but it’s easier to turn a blind eye, most of the time).  Some time later, a blood curdling cry interrupted my writing.  I ignored it till Kibbim came in crying.

“I been play with the phone first,” he said, eyes brimming with tears.  “Seffy been take it from me.”

“What about the five minute rule?  Did you have it for five minutes, so it was time for her turn?”  I asked, bristling with irritation at his lapse into broken, Broken English.

Just then, Seffy barged in and whacked Kibbim on his back.  Tears trailed down her cheeks.

“Kibbim been hit me,” she wailed.

For some reason, I find crimes against grammar intolerable (including my own).  The violence between the kids wasn’t such a concern. 

I want the kids to be fluent speakers of the English language.  How else will they be able to do well at school and study at university, if they so wish? And how else can they challenge authority without being ‘shame’ of their English?

Tony and I have always tried to speak English around the kids, but it’s not easy.  For a start, Tony’s first language is Broken English.  And Broken English is so similar to English, but it’s a more relaxed language, without so many exceptions to the rules like English.

In English, you’d say, “I went to IBIS and bought rice.”

In Broken English, you’d say, “I been go IBIS and buy rice.”

I don’t speak Broken English. But when I hear it spoken I can’t help but let the odd Broken English phrase slip in, having lived here for so long.  

Tony might tell me about someone.

“Who’d tha?” I’d say, meaning, ‘Who?’

He might ask me if I paid the boys’ wages on pay day.

“Bumbai,” I say, meaning ‘Later‘. “I go make dinner first.” 

In Broken English, you can have two comparatives in the one sentence:  “That dingy is more bigger.”

I reckon Broken English is logical, but at the end of the day our kids need to be able to speak, read and write the Queen’s English.  It’s not negotiable with Tony and me.

But it’s not working.

Back to the present.  When the kids came to me complaining about each other in broken, Broken English or just plain bad English, I been feel my wile come up, my anger.

“Get out from here, both o’ you.  Bumbai I go…” I pause my growl (it is more effective to reprimand children in Broken English than English, but I must speak English). “Bumbai, I will give you some very serious consequences.  Actually, I’ll call your father.”

That did the job.  Both the kids wiped off their tears. Kibbim shook a fist at Seffy and she stuck her tongue out at him.  My wile been come up again.

I turned back to the computer screen and took some deep breaths.  And ignored the bang against a wall and subsequent moan.