IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR A MAN YOU NEED AN ILIYO WABENZI ...
Tessa Dowling

The Sunday Independent
July 2 2006

Sis Noksi was late. Not, dead, just late. But when she finally arrived kwaMzoli, slumped into her favourite seat near the bar and ordered a cup of TEA, we knew something was rongo, seriously rongo (wrong). Tea for Sis' Noksi is like garlic for the Minister of Health. It will definitely make you feel better even though you have absolutely fokol (no) proof.

As she stirred four teaspoons of sugar into Mzoli's special Mandela mug (as you tip it up his shirt slides off), we found out that, of course, the reason for her lateness and sadness was indoda yakhe, her man.

"Eish. Ifuture yakhe iblank. Ndamdilitha entlizyweni yam. Ndifuna indoda eswit, eza kundisapotha each and every day." (Hey, his future is blank. I have deleted him from my heart. I want a sweet man who will support me each and every day.) She took a loud slurp of her tea, the teaspoon pushing into her soft cheek like a dentist's tool.

We all had our different theories as to what Noksi-Noksi should do (if you feel really sorry for someone, just double up their name), but as we all talked, I noted that when you get really upset about a man in African languages, you have to borrow from other languages. But you do to those borrowed words what you would LIKE to do to a man - change them, make them your own.

As a whitey I suggested Internet dating. Noksi disagreed, saying she wanted "i-male, not an email".

Gloria, Portia and Blossom, the Xhugels (Xhosa kugels) were scrolling down the phone numbers on their selulas (cellphones), giving out only the names of those men they could vouch for. "Hey, what about Innocent? He's gorgeous, doll! He definitely does NOT wear fongkong (cheap and nasty clothes), and, what is more, uyasonta (he attends church, from the Afrikaans word 'Sondag')".

"Hayi bo!" Noksi was pouring her tea into her saucer to cool it down. "I can't have a somebody called Innocent. That's use-less! What happens xa ndimshawuta, 'Wena uguilty!' and yena urisponda, 'Hayi, I'm Innocent!'?" (What happens if I shout at him, "You're guilty!" and he responds, "No, I'm Innocent!"?)

"One thing you must never do with a man is let him share your tjhekase (plastic bag, from 'Checkers') or kholkeiti (toothpaste, from 'Colgate')," offered Dikeledi enigmatically. "Keep him interested. Be like a tin of jam, which the Tswanas call bagabiki (wag-'n-bietjie) - because although you are very sweet and delicious, he must still open you up, and that should take time ..."

Bra X started his customary sermon to those seeking partners. "As a man, and I can demonstrate to you all that I am one - ewe, ndiyindoda ..." (Thank goodness Bra V managed to keep him zipped up, reminding him that he had been at the very same circumcision school 50 years ago) "... I think you must have rules. You must send out the iisayini (signs) as to ibehaviour e-acceptable and show your man how to go round the traffic circle of your heart ..."

Bwana from Tanzania suddenly saw a way he could enter the conversation and appear learned at the same time. "In Swahili we call such a traffic signs kipilefiti (keep left), the plural being vipilefiti." We all applauded him for this piece of information, intent on making it known that we kwaMzoli are not in the least bit xenophobic (try pronouncing that with a click).

Noksi finished her tea, stood up and looked around the room. She took out a can of deodorant and refreshed her underarms. "Owukeyi, let's get down to ibizinis (business). You can each give me WAN pisi (one piece) of i-advice, then each and every one of you must buy me a briza (Breezer) ukunditshira-apa (to cheer me up)."

"Kufuneka abe neefeelings for wena. (He must have feelings for you.) Shame, that was Sis' Nongendi, never lucky in love herself.

"Doll, you've gotta go for an iLiyo (Leo), because bajeneras kakhulu (they are very generous)," offered Portia, finding it strangely hard to think of the Xhosa word for "generous".

"He must definitely and most assuredly be a wabenzi (rich person, from Mercedes Benz)," intoned the Tanzanian, secretly happy that he only drove a clapped out old isikorokoro (jalopy).

"He must have no other leyidis (ladies), and you must be able to deligeyitha (delegate) household chores to yena (him)." advised Blossom, still trying to find someone on her cellphone.

"He must wear amakhondomi (condoms) and know istatus yakhe (his status), otherwise akekho (he is not) welcome apha (here)!" That was Bra V, who used to be in i-exile but is now an i-Aids activist.

And he was right. Because when it comes to love, uthando, lerato, it is your friends, abahlobo, abangane, ootshali, iipeto, iimpintshi - or, to use an excellent township word, your iitshomi - who know best.

Tessa Dowling is idirector of iAfrican Voices, a multimedia language development company.