By Farooq A. Kperogi, Ph.D. Twitter: @farooqkperogi The last presidential election was as much a political contest as it was a linguist...
By Farooq A. Kperogi, Ph.D.
Twitter:@farooqkperogi
Twitter:@farooqkperogi
The last presidential election was as much a political
contest as it was a linguistic one. In the battle for the hearts and minds of
voters, enthusiasts of President-elect General Muhammadu Buhari on cyber space were incredibly linguistically creative. They came up with original, persuasive,
catchy, memorable, and thought-provoking puns, which helped construct a
rhetoric of inevitability of Buhari’s victory. President Jonathan’s supporters
were caught flat-footed by the unassailable rhetorical ingenuity of Buhari’s
supporters; they came up with no original puns of their own, and merely reacted
with thoughtless and rhetorically impoverished comebacks to the rhetorical
demolition of their candidate.
Social media platforms like Facebook, Twitter, and
Whatsapp were the battlefields of the rhetorical and linguistic contest between
Buhari and Jonathan. For instance, #Febuhari, which I adjudged “Nigerian English’s most creative pun” has more than one million public mentions on
Twitter. This is also true of #GeneralMarchforBuhari—or its many
variations—which cleverly manipulates the initials of General Muhammadu
Buhari’s names. It came forth a day after the February 14 polls were shifted.
Several people wrote to tell me that my wildly popular
February 1, 2015 article titled “Is ‘Febuhari’ Nigerian English’s Most Creative Pun?” might have contributed to the shifting of the date of the election. They
argued that I so intellectualized the intersection of the pun and the date of
the election that it scared the heck out of Jonathan’s supporters in high
places. So they chose to denude Buhari of the specialness that a February 14
election date would have conferred on him. Of course, my article had nothing to
do with the shift in the date of the election. That’s giving me way more credit
than I deserve.
But if the shift in the date of the election was a
consequence of the unsettling rhetorical auspiciousness of the date for Buhari,
Buhari’s supporters came up with an even more rhetorically expansive pun in #GMB—which
both stands for General March for Buhari and General Muhammadu Buhari. The
presidential and National Assembly elections were officially designated as
“general” election by the Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC). The
elections took place in “March.” And Buhari’s supporters said the “general”
election in “March” was for “Buhari,” thus GMB, which also happens to rhyme
with the initials of the president-elect’s name.
Additionally, the verb “march” has a multiplicity of
meanings that unite around the notion of walking for something, especially in
protest. So General March for Buhari hints at protest votes for Buhari in
response to the wrongheaded upending of “Febuhari.” How ingenious!
I elected not to write on the rhetorical ingenuity of
the #General March for Buhari hashtag because I didn’t want to be accused of
jinxing Buhari’s victory again should the loonies in Aso Rock decide to shift
the date of the election yet again.
In light of Buhari’s victory, I have
decided to republish a slightly shorter version of my February 1, 2015 article.
Enjoy:
I am blown away by the morphological and semantic
creativity in the coinage of the term “Febuhari” by the contagiously ebullient
social media foot soldiers of APC presidential candidate General Muhammadu
Buhari. It’s a well-thought-out pun that
simultaneously exploits the ambiguities of sound, meaning, time, and language
to make a compellingly humorous yet deeply political and rhetorical statement.
Puns, also known as paronomasia, are, by definition, a
play on words. According to the Oxford
Dictionary of English, puns artfully manipulate “the different possible
meanings of a word or the fact that there are words that sound alike but have
different meanings.” Based on this definition, it is customary to taxonomize
puns in many different forms, but I’ll discuss only three types of puns in this
piece.
The commonest type of pun is the homophonic pun. This
type of pun depends on the similarity in the sounds of words to achieve its
effect. Examples are: “Why is it so wet in England? Because many kings and
queens have REIGNED there.” “Doctors need PATIENCE.” In these examples, the
writers exploit the similarities in sound between “rain” and “reign” and
between “patience” and “patients” to achieve both humor and intentional
ambiguity.
Homographic puns are the other common types of puns.
They exploit the similarities in the spellings of otherwise dissimilar words.
An example is: “There was once a cross-eyed teacher who couldn't control his
PUPILS.” In this example, “pupil” is exploited for humor and creative
ambiguity. “Pupil” both means a
schoolchild and the black dot in the eye. In the context of the sentence, both
senses of the word convey two equally valid but different meanings. When you’re
cross-eyed, you can’t control the pupil of your eyes, and when you’re a cross-eyed
teacher, it’s hard to control unruly pupils because you can’t see them clearly.
There is another type of pun called a recursive pun.
It’s a two-pronged pun that requires the reader to have some familiarity with
the first part of the pun in order to make sense of the second. Example:
"A Freudian slip is when you say one thing but mean your mother." To
understand “the Freudian slip” part of the pun, you need to know about Sigmund
Freud’s controversial Oedipus complex, which basically says men’s subconscious
desires to sexually possess their mothers causes them to be hostile to their
fathers.
“Febuhari”
encapsulates several of these categories of pun. Let’s start with the obvious.
The forthcoming presidential electoral contest of which Buhari is a major contender
against the incumbent will take place in February this year. The similarity in
sound between February (pronounced fe-bu-wari in Nigeria and fe-biu-ari in
southern United States) and “febuhari” makes “febuhari” a homophonic pun. In fact, in southwest Nigeria where most
Yoruba people don’t phonologically distinguish “h” from “e” in spoken English
(which some people have called the “h factor” in Yoruba English) “febuhari” and
“February” may actually sound alike in everyday conversations. Similarly, in
writing, “febuhari” and “February” share striking orthographic similarities.
The similarities are not sufficient to qualify “febuhari in February” as a
homographic pun, but it closely approximates it.
It’s probably the rich cultural ingredients in “Febuhari”
that make the coinage particularly profoundly creative. The presidential
election won’t just take place in February; it will take place on February 14,
which is Valentine’s Day, celebrated worldwide as a day of love. Now, here is
where it gets really intriguing: “ifẹ”
in Yoruba means “love.” Thus, “febuhari” roughly translates as the clipped
version of “love Buhari” in Yoruba.
There are two ways in which this is a deeply poignant recursive pun.
First, Buhari’s social media aficionados have implored
Nigerians to show love to Buhari on “lover’s day” by voting for him en masse. This political advocacy
exploits the coincidence of the dates of Valentine’s Day and of Nigeria’s
presidential election in remarkably inventive ways. In other words, the Buhari
social media enthusiasts (let’s call them “febuharists”) are saying: “let
Buhari be your Valentine this Valentine’s Day.” As people who are familiar with
Valentine’s Day tradition know, to agree
to be someone’s Valentine is synonymous with agreeing to risk all for the sake
of the love you have for the person. This love isn’t necessarily amorous; it
often, in fact, is agape love, as selfless, fraternal love is called in
Christian theological discourse. In any case, Valentine actually means
“strength” in Latin. The word shares lexical ancestry with “valor” and
“valiant,” which both mean bravery, heroism, gallantry, etc.
So the dimension of “febuhari” that means a call to
action for Nigerians to leave everything aside and vote for Buhari on February
14 requires a knowledge of the traditions of Valentine Day celebrations. That
makes it a recursive pun of some kind. Second, if Buhari wins the 2015
presidential election, it would be because of the political alliance he struck
with the Yoruba people in Nigeria’s southwest. In the three previous elections
he ran for president, Buhari’s appeal—and votes—were confined to the Muslim
north. As I’ve pointed out in previous articles, that’s never sufficient to win
a national mandate. What has changed in this election cycle is the massive “ifẹ” (let’s just shorten it to “fe”) that Buhari seems to be getting
from the Yoruba people. If the unprecedentedly effusive profusion of “fe” from Yoruba people for Buhari leads
to his electoral triumph in the February 14 election, it would give a whole new
meaning to “febuhari.”
Now, I am aware that President Jonathan’s supporters
have come up with a counter Twitter hashtag called “FailBuhari.” There isn’t
even the tiniest smidgen of linguistic creativity in the hashtag. It suffers
from several originality deficits. It doesn’t manipulate any aural, semantic,
or visual cues to convey any special sense. In other words, it isn’t the least
bit punny.
Maybe the
creators of “FailBuhari” would have had better luck inventing their own pun
around “good luck,” the president’s first name, which lends itself to countless
punning possibilities. You don’t have to
like Buhari’s youthful and high-spirited online devotees (some of whom can be
insufferably obnoxious) to admit that they have created Nigeria’s most
ingenious political neologism. Febuharists may not know what a pun is, but
they will sure go down in history as Nigeria’s best punners.
Related Articles:
No comments
Share your thoughts and opinions here. I read and appreciate all comments posted here. But I implore you to be respectful and professional. Trolls will be removed and toxic comments will be deleted.