by Will McGrath
Hei!: an exclamation or verbal pause similar to “Hey!”
Hele!: a celebratory exclamation
Ichu!: an exclamation indicating discomfort or pain, often used for hunger or tiredness
Joala: a maize-based, home-brewed alcoholic drink
Kannete!: an exclamation or verbal pause equivalent to “I swear!” or “Seriously!”
Ke bo kae?: “How much does that cost?”
Ke kopa lifti!: “I want a lift!”
Kena ka khotso: welcome; literally “Enter with peace”
Khotso Pula Nala: the national motto of Lesotho, which means Peace Rain Prosperity
Kraal: a corral or enclosure for livestock; from Afrikaans
Lekhooa: a white person
Lekoenya: a fried dough ball, a fat cake
Lerato: love
Lesokoana: the papa stick
Likhomo: cows, cattle; also the name of the pieces in the board game morabaraba
Likobo: heavy wool blankets, often with elaborate patterns and pictograms; usually worn as the outer layer of clothing to a formal event
Lilietsa: to ululate
Lipompong: sweets, candy
Mafisa: a tribal loaning system for cattle
Makhooa: white people; plural form of lekhooa
Makoenya: fried dough balls or fat cakes; plural of lekoenya
Maloti: money; the plural form of loti, the currency of Lesotho; the Lesotho loti (LSL) is tied to the South African Rand (R) at a fixed rate of 1:1 and both are acceptable currency in Lesotho
‘M’e: mother, woman; used as a term of polite address for women who have given birth
Molamo: a heavy wooden stick carried by shepherds; often decorated with elaborate and colorful wirework
Mookameli: boss (i.e., Nthabeleng)
Morabaraba: a board game enjoyed by bo-ntate
Moroho: leafy greens like kale or chard
Mosali: wife
Nama: meat
Ngaka ea Sesotho: a Sesotho doctor, a traditional healer
Ngoana: baby
Nka!: a command meaning “Take it!”
Nkhono: grandmother
Nku: sheep
Ntate: father, man; used as a term of polite address for a man who has children
Ntate moholo: grandfather
Papa: maize meal
Pitso: a communal gathering for important announcements, discussions, or celebrations
Rondavel: a circular hut, traditionally with thatched grass roof and stone walls
Seshoeshoe: a fancy or formal patterned dress
Uena: the second-person singular pronoun “you”; not necessarily polite, especially when Nthabeleng is yelling it at you
PRONUNCIATION TIPS
In Sesotho, the letter “q” represents a popping sound, while “qh” is a pop with a bit of aspirated breath. Both of these are impossible for makhooa to duplicate with any real proficiency, although attempts made in good faith will be met with amusement and general Basotho bonhomie. Most grammar books refer to this Sesotho “q” as a “click,” but these grammar books are written by people who have apparently never been to Lesotho. The true sound is round and resonant and nothing at all like a click. Only once have I seen a grammar book with an accurate description of what the letter “q” sounds like, and so I will quote verbatim: “It is like the sound of a tiny stone dropped into water, or like the sound produced by the high heel of a woman’s shoe.”
The letter “l” can be tricky as well. The combinations “la-”, “le-”, and “lo-” are pronounced more or less as you would expect. But “li-” and “lu-” are pronounced like “di-” and “du-”. The woman I knew from the Thia-La-La butchery, Limpho, would have pronounced her name DEEM-POH.
Other common letter groupings include “hl-” and “kh-”, both of which require more throat than you expect, and “tl-”, which sounds like “cl-” to the uninitiated. And really, don’t even bother with “ntlh-”, which is a sound that violates several important principals of biological physics.
THINGS YOU SHOULD NEVER SAY
As I believe I made clear, the word “Lesotho” is a euphemism for the female genitalia, and thus is a word to use with great caution. In general, it is best to avoid conversations in which one talks about how much one loves Lesotho, as well as any phrasing in which one combines “Lesotho” with descriptors like “dry,” “wet,” “large,” “small,” etc. These are verbal minefields. In discussing this euphemistic circumlocution with Ntate Baholo, he once commented: “My brother, we Basotho don’t speak of these things openly, so we use other words instead.”
If only poor Ntate Gappah had exercised a bit more discretion in this regard. Gappah—a great and joyous Zimbabwean who was working as a Civics teacher at the high school—entered the staff room one day and, addressing a room of twenty female teachers, declared grandly: “Lesotho lemonate!” Of course, you and I both know that he meant to say “Lesotho homonate!”—which means “The country of Lesotho is beautiful!”—instead of what he really said, which was more like, “Great vaginas, ladies!”
A POEM
For the discerning reader, I present a cento, which is a poem composed entirely of lines from previously existing poems. This artistic tradition dates to the third century CE but probably goes back even further, at least according to that gatekeeper of all knowledge, Wikipedia. Over the centuries, writers have stitched together these patchwork meta-poems from lines of Virgil, Shakespeare, Dickinson, Plath, and countless other poetical luminaries.
I have crafted my cento from a book called Everyday Sesotho Grammar, published by M. R. L. Sharpe in June of 1951. All of the lines in this poem are taken directly from Sharpe’s handy phrasebook, which offers up expressions and idioms that the intrepid traveler will undoubtedly find useful in the Mountain Kingdom.
On First Looking into Sharpe’s Everyday Sesotho Grammar
Bastard rams are not allowed.
He stabbed me in the armpit.
We were disputing over a concubine.
You are charged with concealment of birth.
You are charged with contravention of the marijuana laws.
Rise, the court!
Have you paid your dog tax?
I have left them under my pillow.
Rise, the court!
My wife has run away to a farm.
Are your periods abundant?
You no longer vomit?
Have you sores?
Does it burn when you pass water?
Do the ears not discharge?
He has pushed a mealie into his nostrils.
He has drunk poison.
He has been struck by lightning.
You must starve him to-day.
My side is paralysed.
I have cramps.
I belch foul breath.
I have hiccough.
I am flatulent.
I have colic.
I have vomited a snake.
I am breathless.
I am giddy.
I am depressed.
I cannot vomit.
I retch.
SOURCES
Bereng, Patrick Mohlalefi. I Am a Mosotho. Roma: National University of Lesotho, 1982.
Denoon, Donald, and Balam Nyeko. Southern Africa since 1800. London: Longman, 1972.
Eldredge, Elizabeth. A South African Kingdom: The Pursuit of Security in Nineteenth-Century Lesotho. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993.
Haliburten, Gordon Mackay. Historical Dictionary of Lesotho. Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press, 2003.
Jacottet, Edouard, and H. E. Jankie. A Practical Method to Learn Sesuto. Morija: Morija Sesuto Book Depot (Original edition: 1936).
Lesotho Bureau of Statistics. 2016 Population and Housing Census. 2017.
Mabitle, Pascalina, and Teboho Tsilane. History of Southern Africa and the Impact of Major World Events. Maseru: Longman Lesotho, 2006.
Moss, Joyce, and George Wilson. Peoples of the World: Africans South of the Sahara. Detro
it, MI: Gale Group, 1991.
Omer-Cooper, John D. History of Southern Africa, Second Edition. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann, 1994.
Puisano: ea Sesotho le senyesemane. Morija: Morija Sesuto Book Depot, 1988.
Sharpe, M. R. L. Everyday Sesotho Grammar. Morija: Morija Sesuto Book Depot, 1977.
Shillington, Kevin. History of Southern Africa. Maseru: Longman Lesotho, 2004.
Stevens, Richard P. Lesotho, Botswana, and Swaziland: The Former High Commission Territories in Southern Africa. London: Pall Mall, 1967.
Thompson, Leonard Monteath. Survival in Two Worlds: Moshoeshoe of Lesotho, 1786–1870. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1976.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My gratitude to the following people is impossible to convey, whether in forms written or oral, be it sign, symbol, or sound:
My dedicated colleagues at the high school, especially Ntate Mapola and ‘M’e Mosoang—excellent bosses and mentors both.
Selope, Mamosa, and Tselane—for their wisdom and insight—and all the rest of the amazing TTL outreach team and staff.
The countless Basotho people who opened their homes to me, who shared time and stories and food and drink with me—kea leboha haholo-holo-holo ad infinitum.
Reid and Bridget, Brad, Harriet and Julie, and everyone else who endured extended periods of time with me in close quarters—condolences.
Jamie—pioneer, godfather.
All readers of early drafts (too plentiful to enumerate), who encountered this book at various stages of incompletion, incoherence, and stupidity—and who improved it on micro and macro levels.
Mary, Inara, Tony, and Rafe—your professional support has been invaluable; the joy I’ve derived from your writing equally so.
Leslie H., Crystal, and Rolf, whose specific involvement is hard to categorize, and who may never see this note; your support was fundamental.
Matthew Revert—artist nonpareil.
Rachel Vogel—tireless advocate, dispenser of good counsel and good whiskey.
Michelle and Leslie V., the beating heart of Dzanc Books, long may they reign.
Bo-Lephoto: Nthabeleng, Neo, Tseli, Kokonyana, Lieletso, Koenane—marvelous humans all, providers of endless hospitality, assistance, and wisdom, may my debt be repaid across many decades.
Bokang and Motsoane—never forgotten.
And of course:
Howard and Julia, Sheila and Jim, and my Gussie—whose love and support was overwhelming, and who frequently provided that most valuable resource: free childcare.
Mary, John, Anne; Dylan, Claire; Dan, Maura, Emily, Chris—fellow speakers of a secret language.
Bill and Mary, who gave me everything—your support, encouragement, and love are incalculable.
Sam, Eve, Mara—you crack my shit up daily.
Ellen—MVP.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Will McGrath has worked as a reporter, homeless shelter caseworker, public radio producer, UPS truck loader, Burger King mayo applicator, ghostwriter, and ghosteditor, in slightly different order. He spent twenty months living in the southern African kingdom of Lesotho, and has written for The Atlantic, Pacific Standard, Foreign Affairs, Guernica, and Roads & Kingdoms, among other magazines. His writing has won nonfiction awards including the 2014 Felice Buckvar Prize and has been translated into Chinese, Hungarian, and Japanese.