The linguist or okyeame is a very important person in Ghanaian culture. Communication between traditional authorities (usually the chief) and others is transmitted through the linguist whose responsibility it is to clarify the messages and render the back and forth utterances in language that is savoury, that can be understood by the common people and also in a manner that is culturally acceptable in order to maintain peace. Call them the real diplomats; the word linguist does not quite capture the role of the okyeame which is more a combination of lawyer, ambassador, mouthpiece, spokesperson, and speaker.
It goes to say that not every other person on the street can be an okyeame or linguist. Their symbol of authority is a staff which must be in hand before they perform their various tasks including pouring libation, delivering the chief’s judgement or welcoming visitors. In carrying out this important role, linguists have been known sometimes to colour messages to reflect their own mischievous ends like say adding a few choice insults here and there or trying to accrue some personal benefit to themselves in a negotiation. Nonetheless, linguists are powerful figures in our society for obvious reason.
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| A linguist with his staff |
The influence of linguists is evident in contemporary society in a variety of ways. In the “state apparatus” the linguist has taken up the title “spokes person”. In our situation the Minister of Information would be the person not the spokespersons elsewhere whose utterances tend to elicit the opposite of peace almost all of the time. In the corporate world they are the PR or Corporate Affairs Officers. At the church, I am not sure what name they carry but I see them either repeat exactly what is said by the pastor or translate. For instance; when pastor goes, “na obree ne hu ase”; church linguist goes, “ose, na obree ne hu ase”. The on-going translates this way; pastor says, “... and he humbled himself” and church linguist goes, “he says, and he humbled himself”. I am sure you get the drift.
The real value of the linguist however is not simply in the dexterity with which their message is delivered. It is that they speak the language of the people. Speaking the language of the people means saying it as the people would appreciate, identify with. Secondly, their word is unadulterated, being transmitted straight from the authority that speaks. Now hold this thought.
2 of the many important political rallies to be held before Ghana goes to the polls in December were held not too long ago. Screamer after screamer told their supporters either about their exceptional track record or the failings of their opponents. The people cheered when speakers mounted the podium and responded enthusiastically to slogans. The events were reported on the evening news; the teeming crowds cheering, singing and displaying paraphernalia. Successful rallies, by all accounts.
Elsewhere the chiefs gathered with all their subjects, dressed up in glamorous regalia to welcome the visitors with good news. All necessary protocols done, the real business begun- the talk. Only “developmental” projects bring the chiefs and peoples together with government officials like this so the substance of the talk was nothing new. The chiefs, aided by thick spectacles and with faces not more than 5 inches away from the text from which they read laboriously, thanked the officials and ask for more. Government officials followed similarly, reminding the people of the many good things done already and many more to come.
All these events come to me via TV thanks to news reporters and media houses. I watch the faces of the crowds and community members when the speeches, especially those that are read from scripts and palm-size tabs are being delivered and ask myself; who are these “high ups” talking to? Except in a few distinct cases the medium of communication is the English Language. True, I know that the English language is the official language but is it not rather more like the language of officials? Ever wondered what the “official” language in your hometown is or indeed the “official” language of the woman that sells koko (porridge) on the street?
Now, unfreeze that thought ... slowly.
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