MY FANTI KUM GUAN KIDS
Of all my roles, being a mum is the most challenging and rewarding at the same time. Until my son turned 3, there were no communication challenges at home. We have all been in sync!
One morning, I asked my son to bring me a chair in Fanti, (Fiifi fa egua no ma me!!) and his response was what killed me; Mum what have you just said? Mewo!! Me kyer33de wantse hwee…the realization that he does not understand a word in Fanti was not only disturbing but frightening at the same time. How is it possible to raise a child, born in Ghana and cannot speak his mother tongue at least and at most his father’s tongue?
I was beside myself with frustration and anger, but whose fault is it anyway? Your guess is as good as mine; certainly my fault and that of his father too. You see I am typically a Fanti woman with ‘’some’’ Ga blood. I was born in Elmina, Abrokyire Kakra (the twin of the Whiteman) and I was raised in Sekondi Takoradi. My primary and junior secondary school days were both in Sekondi and Elmina. I loved going to my hometown; I believe I was the favorite grandchild of Opanin Joseph Kwesi Annan of blessed memory.
My grandfather was a well-educated Fanti man and could speak impeccably well in English, even that did not deter him from speaking Fanti to everyone at home even with all the abrofosem like eating fufu with a spoon. My flare in speaking Fanti, I believe comes from him. In fact, I can till today write and speak Fanti and to buttress this I got a distinction in Fanti in my BECE in 1998.
I have observed that most households these days speak English at home, mine included. But who is to blame that our children cannot speak our local languages? Could this be the result of inter-tribal marriages or too much western influence? In my case my husband is a Guan and Ewe and speaks the Nkonya language which happens to be his mother tongue; I on the other hand I am a fanti as I already explained. Our main language of communication has always been English; rightly so because I do not speak Nkonya; (these days for shegee reasons I have learnt it by force) even though I can comprehend a few lines, neither does he also speak Fanti well and so for us, it’s only English that we have.
A few years down the lines we have children and I believe language gives one a form of identity; I dare say I am not even sure which identity my children will have. This is, indeed, sad and worrisome. Yes, my kids have local names i.e. Papa Fiifi, Esiman and Enam but beyond this what else is there to be proud of?
To compound my problems; my son even slurs when he speaks English almost sounding like someone born abroad, nanso Ridge hospital mfikyir ha na mewono!! (He was born at the Ridge hospital). This is simply the effect of watching too much cartoons and sitcoms on TV.
I have also observed him in school. Every time I pick him up from school, he and his friends would be engaged in one game or the other some of which they have created and all of them will be rattling in English even as they play. Most often, the games are so foreign to me and I can barely understand anything. Ebei!!
In those days when I was a little girl at the West Ridge primary school in Sekondi, we played chaskele, tomatoes, anhw3wekyir, pampanaa and etc. and we spoke Fanti as we did. The talkative in me had a double DP always on the list of talkative in class and even then I spoke Fanti. Every now and then our teacher will shout at us DO NOT SPEAK VERNACULAR , how I wish it were the other way round today where teachers will encourage students to speak vernacular; mbir sesa ampa!
These days, I have resorted to speaking only Fanti at home, my attempt to at teach him Fanti; the irony is that he understands almost everything I say, and even when he does not get it, he will simply attempt by asking for clarification; Mum did you mean I should go and bath? Often I shout; k) na ko guare or yi nsu wo fridge no mu ma me, as in get me water from the fridge. Sometimes I fail in my attempts but I am very committed to winning this battle.
I remember my childhood days in Sekondi Zongo, Fanti, Nzema, and Hausa was spoken to us as children, depending on who was engaging you at the time, this made us tough and it was fun too. On Sunday when I towed behind my grandfather to the Methodist church at Chapel Square in Elmina, the choir leader will always called the tune which was proceeded by the phrase Christian Asor Ndwom MHB…….and the choir would sing along. The neighborhood kids always gave their own rendition of the Fanti language depending on where they hailed from, there were the Gomoa fanti, the mankessim version and the most hilarious Cape Coast Edina version mixed with brofo (English)
The way I see it we, now as parents have to put in extra energy to infuse some of our cultural values into our kids which includes our native languages; but of course I do understand the dynamics of our generation. We have limited time, making a living take up all our time; we barely see our kids these days!! They are asleep when we come in the evening and also asleep when we leave in the morning. Grandma are in short supply. They themselves are making a living too. Strangers (nannies, in some cases) have come to our rescue, but with a cost and all it’s associated ‘’wahala.’’
In my desperate attempt to admitting that I cannot do it all, just this one time I am willing to take suggestions from everyone on how to get it right. Don’t be surprised to hear that I have downloaded Fanti and Twi lesson from YouTube, in this age of internet, everything is possible.
