LANGUAGE DIVERSITY IN , WEST

By

SAMANTHA ANNE MERO

A THESIS PRESENTED TO THE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF THE UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF ARTS

UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA

2003 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The efforts of many different people went into the successful completion of this thesis. I would first like to give glory to God and my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, without whom I would not have had the strength to persevere through the rough times.

Special appreciation goes to my parents. My entire college education would have been impossible without their love and support. Watching their hard work and dedication throughout my life has encouraged me to strive for my best in all that I do. I would also like to thank the chair of my committee, Dr. M.J. Hardman, who inspired the idea for this thesis and has guided me through the process of completing it. Her ideas and encouragement have kept me going throughout this process. The members of my committee have all generously given of their time to improve the quality of this thesis, each adding a unique viewpoint and area of specialization. Dr. Jean Casagrande has been with this project from the beginning, constantly encouraging me to keep going and keeping me from taking on more than I could handle. Dr. Fiona McLaughlin is the newest member of my supervisory committee, but her expertise in West African studies has been invaluable in directing my research. Further recognition is due to the members of the Guinea Branch of Pioneer Bible Translators. Without their aid during the summer of 2003, this thesis would have been impossible because I would have no data. Finally, I would like to thank my fellow graduate students in the Linguistics department. I could not have asked for a better group of friends to help me keep a healthy perspective and to make me laugh even when I was feeling frustrated.

ii TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ...... ii

ABSTRACT...... v

CHAPTER

1 INTRODUCTION...... 1

2 METHOD OF DATA COLLECTION...... 8

3 LANGUAGE USAGE IN GUINEA ...... 11

Introduction...... 11 History ...... 12 Pre-Colonial History ...... 13 Colonial History...... 15 Post-Independence ...... 19 Current Situation ...... 21 Diglossia...... 22 Coastal Guinea...... 24 Fouta Djalon ...... 28 ...... 30 Forest Region...... 32 Conclusion ...... 34

4 LANGUAGE USAGE IN WESTERN AFRICA...... 35

Introduction...... 35 Senegal...... 35 ...... 37 Congo...... 38 Conclusion ...... 39

5 MAJOR ...... 41

Introduction...... 41 Susu...... 41 Maninka ...... 47

iii Pular...... 53 Conclusion ...... 60

6 QUESTIONS FOR FURTHER RESEARCH...... 62

APPENDIX

A FIELD NOTES...... 65

B EINAR HAUGEN’S 10 QUESTIONS ...... 68

REFERENCE LIST...... 69

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH ...... 71

iv Abstract of Thesis Presented to the Graduate School of the University of Florida in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Master of Arts

LANGUAGE DIVERSITY IN GUINEA,

By

Samantha Anne Mero

August 2003

Chair: Dr. M.J. Hardman Major Department: Linguistics

The Republic of Guinea in West Africa is home to native speakers of over 40 indigenous African languages. In addition to these indigenous languages, French is used as the ; and is used as the language of Islam, the majority religion. Everyday conversations among Guineans reflect complicated, often contradictory sociolinguistic norms not only on what to say but what language to say it in. Many factors affect the choice of language, including the identity of the interlocutors, the location of the conversation, and the topic of the conversation.

There are four linguistically relevant regions in the country, each one dominated by one of Guinea’s three major languages, Susu, Pular, and Maninka. During a 2-month trip to Guinea in the summer of 2002, I gathered data on language usage in each of these four regions. Most of the data were collected by observing which language was used in a variety of social situations, ranging from conversations between friends to marketplace interactions to business discussions at government agencies.

v The results of this study varied for each of the regions. However, they all exhibited evidence of diglossia and even triglossia. In all regions, French is the H language and is used in government and education. Each region uses one of the three major languages as an M language. These languages are used in the cities and marketplaces and as a trade language between members of different language groups.

The indigenous languages are L languages. Among the people who speak them natively,

L languages are the languages of everyday topics with family and friends of the same language group. The three major languages also function as L languages in areas where they are spoken natively.

Understanding language usage in a country can help the government adopt a conscientious language policy that will facilitate communication between groups and between the people and the government and reduce the chances of conflict while respecting the rights of minority groups to retain their native languages. In Africa, one of the most linguistically diverse areas in the world, the decision of what official status, if any, to give the different languages should not be taken lightly. Through this and other similar studies, we can gain a better understanding of language interaction and attitudes.

This information could help us better handle what is a very emotional issue in much of

Africa and the world.

vi CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION

Language diversity and are more common in the world than monolingualism. Today, at least 4,000 different languages are spoken in the world with some estimates ranging as high as 8,000. However, there are only about 160 countries

(Wardhaugh 1987). In many parts of the world, people have to make daily decisions on language usage based on who the participants in the conversation are, what the topic and setting of the conversation are, why the conversation is taking place, and a variety of other factors (Wolff 2002). Whenever speakers of different languages meet, some sort of linguistic concession must be made for the sake of communication. This concession can take many different forms. The groups may use one of the languages as a trade language, either by mutual decision or because one group forces their language on the other. The groups may even use a third language as a trade language. At other times, aspects from more than one language can be borrowed to form a pidgin. Language diversity is a fact of life in most of the world.

Africa is one of the most linguistically diverse areas in the world. Each country has its own linguistic story that has been shaped by centuries of interactions among the various groups in addition to the influence of the languages and cultures of European colonizers. The Europeans cut colonies out of the African landscape with no regard for the indigenous people living there. Many groups were split between more than one colony. Sometimes the colonies they were placed in did not even belong to the same

1 2

Figure 1-1 (SIL 2003a) 3

European country. Thus, half of the live in francophone Togo, while the other half live in anglophone (Der Houssikian, in-class lecture). Only a couple of

African countries have a single language group that makes up even 50% of the population. In this environment, Africans must live and interact with each other on a daily basis.

This diverse environment has attracted a lot of research and comentary on language usage, interaction, and policy. Since the end of colonization and even a little before, world opinion has shifted toward favoring the usage of indigenous languages in

Africa. In 1953, the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization

(UNESCO) released The Use of Vernacular Languages in Education, which argues that

“the mother tongue is a person’s natural means of self-expression, and one of [her or] his first needs is to develop [her or] his power of self-expression to the full;” therefore,

“every pupil should begin [her or] his formal education in [her or] his mother tongue”

(UNESCO 1953, cited in Wardhaugh 1987). Despite a lack of supporting research, this report had an impact in encouraging mother-tongue education. Critiques of the former colonies’ reliance on European languages also come from the African intelligentsia, often aimed at the African intelligentsia. The educated elite of Africa have been indoctrinated in the language and culture of the colonizer for over a century. Since colonization, the literature of Africa has been dominated by English and French, including the critiques themselves. Ahmed Sekou Touré, the first president of the Republic of Guinea, in one of his political treatises, L’Afrique en Marche (1967), argued for the equality of all people and cultures. He encourages the intelligentsia to identify with the African people for the enrichment of African culture, all while himself writing in French. 4

L’élite intellectuelle de l’Afrique doit, sinon écrire et parler en Africain, du moins penser en Africain.

‘The intellectual elite of Africa must, if not write and speak in African, at least think in African.’

Ngugi Wa Thiong’o, a Kenyan writer, believes that African thought is best expressed through African languages. In Decolonising the Mind (1986), which he wrote in English, he questions whether anything written in English or French can even be considered

African literature. These idealistic opinions often do not take into account critical obstacles, including the lack of textbooks in indigenous languages, the lack of trained teachers, and, in some cases, the lack of an alphabet. An even greater obstacle, however, is the attitude of many African people who do not see how an education in their native language could help them improve their status in a country where the government and businesses are run in a European language and in a world where international trade is conducted in English and French.

Any significant move toward replacing the colonial languages in the near future is unrealistic for most of Africa. As mentioned above, both English and French are useful as world languages1. They provide African countries with an advantage in their relations with the international community. It would also be difficult for most countries to choose which indigenous language or languages to promote. Favoring one language over others could lead to internal discontent and even . African governments need to carefully consider their country’s specific situation, in addition to what has and has not worked in other countries, to implement a successful language policy. Research into language usage in each country and comparisons between African countries and other

1 The influence of English as a world language has spread in Africa, just as elsewhere in the world. Thus, many citizens of former French colonies are learning English in addition to or instead of French (Wardhaugh, 1987). 5 countries in the world could help facilitate this critical decision. Ronald Wardhaugh

(1987) reviews language diversity worldwide with an emphasis on the influence of

English and French. He discusses many of the situations that exist in different countries of Africa. Rwanda, Burundi, Botswana, and Lesotho are linguistically homogenous.

Some countries, like Senegal, have one language spoken by a majority of the citizens.

Others, including Guinea, have a few major languages. Finally, many countries do not have any one language spoken by a significant number of people. Wardhaugh also shows how many of the linguistic issues commonly associated with Africa also exist elsewhere in the world. Other studies focus on one country in more detail. One such study was published in 1997 by Lars-Gunnar Andersson and Tore Janson on the language ecology of Botswana, a country in Southern Africa. They discuss the status of the various languages from Setswana (by far the predominant native African language in Botswana) to Fanagalo (which they classify as a pidgin). Each of these languages has its own place and role in the sociolinguistic situation. The description of a language includes a section on the people who speak it, their history, the classification and use of the language, in addition to a brief discussion of the structure of the language. Leigh Swigart (1992) and

Fiona McLaughlin (1995) studied different areas of language usage in Senegal. Swigart focused her research on the capital city, Dakar, and Dakar Wolof, a “mixed code” with elements from both French and Wolof, the trade language of Senegal. McLaughlin studied the effects of the spread of Wolof on other groups in Senegal. She describes how different groups, especially the Haalpulaar, attempt to preserve their identity and avoid linguistic assimilation. 6

The Republic of Guinea in West Africa is unique among African nations in many ways. When first offered independence to France’s colonies, Guinea was the only one to accept. Led by their charismatic president, the Guineans tried to shake off all vestiges of colonial rule. Guinea was the only former colony in Africa to make a serious attempt at replacing the colonial language at independence (Wardhaugh

1987). Tierno Siradiou Bah (1987) discusses the language policy of the Guinean government under Sekou Touré and its effect on the lives of the people. He describes how, as a result of Guinea’s language policy and other policies, the country emerged from Touré’s regime “impoverished, weakened by decades of mismanagement, corruption, cyclic political purges and endemic human rights abuses.” The new regime,

Fig 1-2 West Africa. (adapted from CIA 2003) 7 under President Lansana Conté, quickly restored French to its official status as the language of government and education. Understanding why Guinea’s attempt at replacing French failed can help other countries avoid the same mistakes. Bah points out many of the aspects of the language policy itself that contributed to its failure but does not consider aspects of Guinea’s sociolinguistic situation that might also have contributed to the policy’s failure. However, he does recognize the need for “a comprehensive ethnolinguistic study of Guinea as part of a broader approach to the cultures of the area.”

This study attempts to address this need for research into language usage in

Guinea. The focus of this paper is a descriptive study based on data collected on what language is used in what situation by which group of people. In Chapter 2, I describe the methodology used for collecting this data. Chapter 3 contains the results of my research, including a summary of the data and my understanding of the overall situation based on that data. In Chapter 4, I compare the results of my research with research that has been done in other African countries. This comparison focuses on the effects of the sociolinguistic situation on the feasibility of replacing French as the language of power in each country. Chapter 5 is a grammatical comparison of the Susu, Pular2, and Maninka, the three largest languages in Guinea, in terms of both native speakers and total speakers.

Finally, in Chapter 6, I discuss some possibilities for further research into language usage in Guinea and other countries.

2 Pular is the language of the Fulջe people. The singular of Fulջe is Pullo. All three terms will be used in his thesis. CHAPTER 2 METHOD OF DATA COLLECTION

The data used in this study were collected during a 2-month trip to the Republic of Guinea during the summer of 2001. I spent time living among and working with different language groups in the three largest cities of Guinea: , Labé, and

Kankan. These are the largest cities in Coastal Guinea, the Fouta Djalon, and Upper

Guinea respectively. These are three of the four regions of Guinea. The fourth region, the Forest Region, was unfortunately inaccessible for socio-political reasons. These four regions are geographically based but are also linguistically significant. The three largest language groups are each based in one of them. The Susu dominate Coastal Guinea, the

Fulջe dominate the Fouta Djalon, and the Maninka dominate Upper Guinea. The Forest

Region has no dominant group and is by far the largest area made up only of minority groups in the country.

During my trip, I traveled with and visited linguistically trained Americans who work extensively with each of the major language groups in Guinea and speak at least one of the major languages, in addition to French. I observed what language or languages are used in different contexts. I also asked questions of the Americans when necessary and appropriate. I am a native speaker of English, and I speak French near- fluently. When one of these languages was spoken, I was easily able to recognize it.

However, I cannot distinguish between Susu, Pular, Maninka, and any other African language. In order to distinguish between them, I had to rely on the Americans who were

8 9 with me. I either asked them what language was being spoken in a situation that I found interesting, or they noted an interesting situation and pointed it out to me. Occasionally, if we heard a language that none of us recognized, we asked the speakers what language they were using. Much of my observation consisted of basically listening to native speakers communicate in a variety settings. I listened to a wide variety of native speakers from different ethnicities in as many different contexts as possible. Most of the people I encountered, except for the Americans who were helping me, were unaware of my research. I have made a clear distinction between conversations that I participated in and conversations that were conducted near me but without my participation. I recorded my observations in anecdotal form in a notebook (see Appendix A). Data for the Forest

Region came from stories told by Americans who live in the region. Although I did not personally observe these situations, the Americans who did have all received linguistics training comparable to mine.

This goal of this study is a preliminary description of language usage in Guinea.

In order to focus my data collection, however, I used the 10 questions of language ecology found in Einar Haugen’s “The Ecology of Language.” From these questions, I chose three that could be answered by observation and expanded them to situations that I could examine in Guinea, as follows:

1. Who are its users? Social status? Rural vs. urban setting? Region of the country? Ethnic group? Age? Other?

2. What are its domains of use? Home? 10

Friends? Religious services/rituals? Muslim? Christian? Traditional? Other? School? Work? (Especially in the cities) Media? Radio? TV? (if applicable) Other? Interacting with other villages/language groups? Other?

3. What concurrent languages are employed by its users? Other African languages? French? Arabic? (possibly in mosques?) Other? Who? Where? When? Speaking vs. hearing?

The answers to the remaining questions are very relevant to Guinea but would require more extensive research to answer. Some of them are answered in this paper based on library research. CHAPTER 3 LANGUAGE USAGE IN GUINEA

Introduction

Guinea’s 94,000 square miles (slightly less than the state of Oregon) is currently home to speakers of over 40 African languages (AEMEG, unpublished list). Some of these languages are spoken only in one village, while others span large areas and even national boundaries. Most of them are comprised of regional dialects that often make it difficult to determine where one language ends and another begins. Figure 3-1 shows an estimate

11 12

Figure 3-1 Languages of Guinea (Pioneer Bible Translators, personal communication) of the area occupied by the larger languages. As can be seen, the three largest languages are Pular, Maninka, and Susu. These are the three major languages of Guinea. It is also worth noting that some language groups, like the Landouma and the Yalunka, are split into several separate areas. There is also a split in language families. Guinean languages belong to one of two branches of the Niger-Congo language phylum: Atlantic or Mande

(see Williamson and Blench 2000). The eastern and western parts of Guinea are home to speakers of (including Maninka and Susu). The central part is home to speakers of Atlantic languages (including Pular). In addition the indigenous languages,

Guinea has inherited the official language, French, from colonization and Arabic from the spread of Islam. It is in this complex linguistic environment that the Guinean people must try to live their daily lives together as one nation. In this section, I use data collected during a two-month stay in Guinea to attempt to shed light on the question of

“Who speaks What to Whom, When and Where, and Why in Which particular language variety (Wolff 2000)?”

History

To understand the current sociolinguistic situation in Guinea, it is important to understand the history of the region. Guinea’s long and storied history reveals a lot about how the current situation came to be. How have some languages come to be more dominant than others? How have foreign languages like French and Arabic come to be so influential? What is behind the people’s attitudes toward different languages? In this section, I look at Guinea’s history before, during, and after colonization. These are not distinct periods, but overlapping designations used for convenience. 13

Pre-Colonial History

The began long before Europeans arrived and split the African continent into colonies that would later become independent countries. The territory that is now known as Guinea has been inhabited for thousands of years by various groups.

However, the Susu and the Maninka, two of the three largest groups in modern Guinea, did not migrate into the area until the 10th century AD. The largest group, the Fulջe, did not migrate into the area until the 17th century. The different regions that make up modern Guinea have different histories during this period. After the Maninka came into the region, Upper Guinea was successively part of the (10th and 11th centuries), the Empire (until the14th century), and the (until the 19th century). Through this, Upper Guinea remained (and remains) dominated by the

Maninka. The neighboring region of the highly fertile Fouta Djalon saw its inhabitants change more frequently. When the Susu originally migrated to Guinea, they settled in the

Fouta Djalon. In the process, they displaced some of the groups who were already there.

When the Fulջe, a group of migratory cow herders, arrived, they too desired the highly fertile lands. The Fulջe brought Islam to Guinea, declared jihad on the local peoples

(including the Susu) in the early 19th century, and either enslaved them, killed them, or drove them out of the Fouta Djalon. Those who were enslaved were required to convert to Islam and were eventually culturally and linguistically assimilated. Those who fled for their lives moved to the outskirts of the region. The Susu moved to the marshy coastal region where they are now the dominant group. Other groups, like the Yalunka, were split and now inhabit several unconnected areas. Pushed to the coast, the Susu were 14 poised to meet and trade with another group that had been trading with the coastal peoples for a while, but had not yet started to extensively explore the interior: the

Europeans (CultureGrams 2000).

The first Europeans to explore the coast of West Africa beyond the Sahara desert were the Portuguese under Prince Henry the Navigator. Portuguese sailors sailed progressively further down the coast between 1434 and 1472. During this time, they had a complete monopoly on trade with sub-Saharan Africa. It was not until 1481 that

Portugal’s monopoly was seriously threatened. As a result of their fears, the Portuguese set up a stronghold at Elmina in present day Ghana. However, despite this and other efforts, the Portuguese gradually saw their hold on the region slip away. First the

Spanish and then the French, Dutch, and eventually the British began sending ships to trade along the West African coast or to raid Portuguese ships. Interest in the region waned after the discovery of the Americas in 1492, so it was not until the 17th century that Portuguese domination ended as the Dutch starting capturing Portuguese forts along the coast. By the height of the slave trade in the 17th and 18th centuries, the Portuguese had little power in the region. Instead, the English, Dutch, French, Swedes, Danes, and

Germans vied for control of trade. During this period, the focus of the European presence in West Africa was trade, not colonization. As early as the 1480’s, after the

Portuguese built their fort at Elmina, King John II of declared himself Lord of

Guinea (which, at that time, referred to all of West Africa); but this title had little weight to it. During the 17th and 18th century, the various countries of Europe, especially

England, France, and Holland, were claiming “spheres of influence” along the coast; 15 however, almost all of West Africa was controlled by native rulers until the 19th century

(Osae et al. 1973).

Colonial History

European attitudes toward Africa changed dramatically during the 19th century.

By 1842, all European countries and the United States had abolished the slave trade

(Latham 1959). Meanwhile, the Industrial Revolution greatly increased the need for raw materials. The desire to secure access to raw materials, insure the safety of European missionaries and traders, and increase national prestige set off a scramble to amass

“protectorate” treaties with local chiefs. Finally, in 1884, the declared that such treaties had to be backed up by occupation of the area in order to be considered valid. Thus began the colonization of the African interior. The French had already laid claim to parts of the coastal region of present day Guinea, in addition to much of present day Senegal. Senegal was heavily fortified, and the French used it as a base to sweep across West Africa, laying claim to most of the previously unclaimed area of the interior.

Although complete submission would eventually be achieved, subduing the larger, more organized groups proved to be a difficult challenge (Osae et al. 1973).

The two largest, most powerful groups of West Africa were the Fulani (including the Fulջe of the Fouta Djalon) and the Mandinka (including the Maninka of Upper

Guinea). Pacifying these two groups was key to subduing the entire region. In the early

1800’s, the Muslim Fulani declared jihad on neighboring non-Muslim peoples. One of the results of this highly successful mass military movement was the solidification of

Fulջe domination of the Fouta Djalon. This region was right in the middle of trade routes from the interior to the French-controlled coast. Despite treaties between the French and 16 many local chiefs, goods moving though the Fouta Djalon were often intercepted. The

French recognized that war with the Fulջe would completely shut down the valuable trade routes. Instead, in 1850, they sent a representative to negotiate with the Almamy3 of the strategic town of Timbo. These first talks did not immediately accomplish the

French goal of dominating trade in the region, but it did establish a friendly relationship between the French and the Fulջe. Later discussions led to an agreement to build a railroad through Timbo in 1880 and a treaty of friendship in 1881 that gave the French greater trading rights. This relationship ended, however, when the Almamy died in 1889, leaving two sons vying to succeed him. The younger, Bokar Biro, eventually won out, but his tyrannical reign led the French to change their strategy. In 1896, he was defeated and killed by the French; and in 1897, his successors signed a treaty making the Fouta

Djalon a protectorate of France and part of (Houis 1953).

Upper Guinea was more difficult to pacify. After the Fulani jihad, other Muslim groups took up the call. One of the most successful campaigns was the creation of the

Mandinka Empire under Samory Touré, a Dyula who desired to unite the Mandinka peoples. Between 1852 and 1882, he talked and fought his way to control of a large empire that included parts of present day , , Mali, , and

Guinea. Samory Touré might have accomplished his goal if the timing of his empire building had not coincided with European colonization. The empire continued to expand until it ran into areas under heavy French influence. In Guinea, the town of Siguiri and the neighboring village of Keniera played a role in starting the long series of confrontations between Samory Touré and the French. When Touré’s troops laid siege to

3 A political and religious leader among West African Mulims 17

Keniera, the French took it as an attack on their interests in Siguiri. The French were able to rebuff Touré’s troops, but the result was several skirmishes between the two groups over the next few years. In 1885, to avoid being overwhelmed by the French,

Touré signed a treaty giving them control of the lands north of the Niger River. He refused, however, to allow any of his own lands to fall under the French “protectorate.”

The treaty did not last long as Samory Touré turned his sights east and was infuriated by

French aid given to the people he was attacking. Fighting again broke out between the

Mandinka forces and the French, and Touré was forced to retreat. He continued to elude the French but was quickly making enemies as he destroyed everything in his path.

Finally, after 16 years and one of the most impressive challenges to European colonialism, he was taken prisoner by the French in 1898. Soon afterward, all of the territory of Samory Touré’s empire, including what remained of modern Guinea, fell under French control (Osae et al. 1973).

Guinea was made part of and placed under the administration of a Lieutenant Governor who was in turn subordinate to the Governor General in Dakar,

Senegal. Under these colonial administrators were indigenous chiefs and princes who had sworn allegiance to France (Devey 1997). The primary goal of French colonization was obviously economic; however, the French also tried to assimilate the native population. The few who completely assimilated had their status up-graded from French

“subjects” to French “citizens.” The French set up schools to teach children and culture. The only colony where this policy had any appreciable success was in Senegal, where French control was strongest (Osae et al. 1973). Far from creating loyal French citizens from African natives, the main result of this policy was to create a 18 super-educated elite minority who were willing to adopt French but were eventually also prepared to lead Africa to independence. The rest of the indigenous population remained largely uneducated and subject to the divergence of needed goods to France, unreasonable taxes, and even forced labor. France’s stranglehold on her colonies lasted largely unthreatened until the World War I. While fighting for the Allied cause during

World War I and World War II, African soldiers saw the weaknesses of their colonizers.

This diminished the image of European invincibility and started talk of better treatment, especially for those who had fought in the wars. In 1944, a conference was held in

Brazzaville (in the modern-day Democratic Republic of Congo) to discuss the future status of the French colonies. Independence was not discussed at the conference, but the groundwork was laid for several important steps toward independence, including African participation in the government. In 1945, 21 Africans were elected to the French

National Assembly. Their influence led to the abolition of forced labor and to the granting of French citizenship to the inhabitants of her colonies. Another result of the conference was the creation of political parties in the French colonies, most of which were ethnically or regionally based. In 1950, the Parti democratique de Guinée (PDG), was created by Sekou Touré and Madeira Keïta. This party had communist ties and strongly opposed the colonial administration. The influence of the PDG grew; and, in

1957, the party won 57 of 60 seats in Guinea’s territorial assembly. In 1958, President

Charles de Gaulle returned to power in France. He offered the colonies a choice between complete independence without any aid from France and membership in a French

Community with increased self-rule but still under the rule of France. Sekou Touré, then the Secretary General of the PDG, wanted an association of independent nations equal to 19

France. De Gaulle refused the idea and declared that independence would only come with a complete rupture of relations with France. Each colony was given a choice to participate in the or to gain independence, although with serious economic consequences. Only Guinea, under the leadership of Sekou Touré, voted to reject the French Community. Thus, on October 2, 1958, Guinea became the first colony in French West Africa to gain independence (Devey 1997).

Post-Independence

The independence of the Republic of Guinea began with a mass exodus of French citizens, who took with them every bit of technology that they could carry. All assistance from France was immediately cut off. Sekou Touré became the leader of the new nation and implemented a socialist economic policy. Although the government envisioned a nation united beyond ethnic boundaries, importance was still given to African values and culture, including languages (Devey 1997). The official policy of the PDG was to revive the local languages that had been suppressed under the assimilation policy of France.

Fifteen Guinean languages were chosen as official languages. Following the French example, the PDG wanted to advance local languages through the school system. In

1964, indigenous language adult literacy programs were set up but were largely unsuccessful as citizens realized that literacy in their mother tongue would do nothing to advance their social status. In 1968, eight of the 15 official languages were chosen as languages of education, replacing French. Since success in school no longer depended on a mastery of French, Guinea had the highest graduation rate in Africa. However, the lack of textbooks in the local languages greatly diminished the value of such an education.

The government did little to provide the necessary textbooks. The few translations from 20

French textbooks failed to take advantage of the richness of the local languages and, therefore, sounded stilted and unnatural. The failure of the indigenous language education program can in part be linked to several factors. The PDG based its language policy on a belief that the “substance” of language is more important than the “form” of language. As Sekou Touré himself said, “We consider French, English, [Susu] and

Maninka as forms of language; it is not the eloquence of speech, nor the form that matter to us, but rather the content of language. . .” This belief not only undermined the translation of textbooks by neglecting to take culture into account, but also undermined the core of the PDG’s language policy: the revitalization of Guinean languages. If the content of language was the most important, and if all languages could equally convey the same content, why replace French as the official language? The language policy was equally undermined by the hypocrisy of the party leadership. Guinea’s national anthem, motto, and constitution are all in French. The government continued to function in

French, and the Guinean intelligentsia wrote in French. Even Sekou Touré, who wrote extensively, only wrote in French (Bah 1987). The PDG also failed to overcome the lack of technical terminology in the Guinean languages. In 1980, they published the Lexique

Fondamental des Sciences Exactes, a dictionary of technical terms in Maninka, Susu,

Pular, Kpelle, Kissi, and Toma. However, these terms never took hold, and modern

Guineans continue to use French borrowings for terms that did not exist in the language before colonization.

The failure of the language policy was just one of the problems encountered by

Sekou Touré and the PDG. As time past, dissent grew among the people of Guinea. In

1970, the Portuguese attacked Conakry to free prisoners kept there from the wars of 21 independence of Guinea Bissau and Cape Verde. Sekou Touré felt that this attack was just the first step in a plot against his regime. It triggered a series of oppressive acts that continued until Sekou Touré’s death on March 26, 1984 and victimized millions of

Guineans through imprisonment, exile, and death. One week after Sekou Touré’s natural but sudden death, a bloodless military coup named General Lansana Conté the new president of Guinea (Devey 1997). Guinea, which had been closed to the world for years to hide the atrocities being committed, was reopened. One of the biggest changes under the new government was the reestablishment of relations with France. French is again the official language and the language of education. The long and complex history of

Guinea has left many languages that have played a integral part of its history. We now turn to the choice of language that modern Guineans face everyday.

Current Situation

The key to understanding the sociolinguistic situation of Guinea is in the country’s four regions. All four are a hodgepodge of language groups, but Coastal

Guinea, the Fouta Djalon, and Upper Guinea are dominated by one of the three largest groups. Each region uses one of the three major languages as a trade language. In every region, French is used as the language of government, education, and big business. Only the local language is usually spoken in villages because they are highly ethnically homogeneous. I mention some exceptions to this rule. However, the purpose of this paper is to study what happens when many language groups live and interact together, so

I focus on the cities. 22

Diglossia

The sociolinguistic situation in all regions of Guinea exhibits characteristics of diglossia. Charles Ferguson originally used this term in 1959 to describe situations

“where two varieties of a language exist side by side throughout the community, with each having a definite role to play.” The dialect used for high-level functions, such as government, education, and religion is classified as the “H language.” The dialect used among family and friends is classified as the “L language.” The term “diglossia” was soon expanded to include parallel situations involving different, even unrelated, languages. Ferguson distinguishes diglossia from bilingualism in general through several factors: function, prestige, literary heritage, acquisition, standardization, stability, grammar, lexicon, and phonology. The last three only apply to dialectal diglossias and are not discussed here.

One characteristic of a diglossia is that each language has a specific function in the society. This is the case in all four regions of Guinea, even though the functions of each language will differ from region to region. French is consistently used in areas that

Ferguson ascribes to an H language, except for religion. The indigenous languages are used in more informal situations, fitting the definition of an L language. Among minority groups, especially in the Forest Region, a three-way triglossic situation exists. In these situations the local language is still the L language, being used among family and friends.

However, the local trade language (either Susu, Pular, or Maninka) is used as what I will call an M language, in informal situations where there is commonly a mix of members of different language groups, such as marketplaces. 23

Ferguson further defines an H language as having more “prestige” than L languages. He defines prestige as an idea that the H language is somehow better than the

L language. The idea that French is “better” than African languages does not seem to be a commonly held belief in Guinea. However, I would argue that French is still prestigious in Guinea in that it represents being educated and successful. The three majority languages also seem to have some prestige compared to the minority languages.

However, further research is needed to study the attitudes of the Guinean people toward these languages.

Another criterion that Ferguson gives for an H language is that it have a large literary heritage and that members of the diglossic community contribute to that literature. Certainly, French fulfills the first part of this requirement. As for the second part, a substantial amount of Guinean literature is written in French, from Kesso Barry’s autobiography Kesso to Camara Laye’s L’Enfant Noir to Sekou Touré’s numerous political commentaries. However, this does not mean that the Guinean languages do have their own literary heritage. Several groups have a long history of written literature dating back to before colonization. In addition, the tradition of oral literature among

Guinean and other African peoples is an important part of their literary heritage.

The way in which languages in a diglossia are acquired is also important to identifying a diglossia. Because an L language is spoken in the home, it should be the first language of the children. Children might hear an H language occasionally but would learn it primarily in school. This is the case in Guinea. Few, if any, Guineans who are born and raised in Guinea learn French as their native language. French is acquired in school as the language of education. 24

Another distinction that Ferguson uses to distinguish an H language and an L language is standardization. H languages have generally been extensively studied and standardized. L languages, on the other hand, have either not been studied or have received only limited attention from outside scholars. French has, of course, been extensively studied. The indigenous languages of Guinea have not received as much attention, although some have been studied more than others. The studies that have been done are usually carried out by European scholars.

Finally, Ferguson describes diglossia as a stable situation in which neither language is threatened to lose its position to the other. The situation in Guinea has existed since colonization and shows no sign of changing significantly. Even the overt attempts by Sekou Touré’s regime to remove the influence of French failed to affect the diglossia. Although some of the smallest minority languages are in danger of disappearing, they are losing ground to the M languages not to French. As we will see in the rest of this chapter, the separate functions of the languages of Guinea are well established and the diglossia appears to be very stable.

Coastal Guinea

Coastal Guinea (Guinée maritime) is located along the Atlantic coast and is dominated by the Susu people. This region is particularly important because it contains the capital of Guinea: Conakry. As is common with capitals, Conakry is the most ethnically and linguistically diverse city in the country. It is home not only to people from all over Guinea but to ex-patriots from Europe, the United States, and neighboring

West African countries. Like in the rest of the region, Susu is the trade language in

Conakry. However, one does not have to search hard to see and hear other languages. 25

French is the most prevalent language in Conakry. From the airport to the marketplace, signs everywhere are written in French. As the official language of Guinea,

French is used in government offices and schools. Official documents, such as passports and visas, are all in French. French is also the language of businesses like banks where the vast majority of the clientele are foreigners and extremely wealthy, well-educated natives. In a diglossia, where different languages are each assigned very specific domains of use, one would not expect to hear French outside of these domains. However, while natives do seem to avoid using French in other situations, the first priority is communication. With the large number of foreigners in the city who do not speak Susu, the usage of French is often necessitated. White people are generally assumed to speak only French, and Africans are assumed to speak Susu. This assumption is evidenced as soon as one enters the country. Whenever an airplane arrives, the airport is swarmed with baggage carriers looking to earn some money. They approach European4 passengers in French but African passengers in Susu. Since a native wealthy enough to afford a plane ticket is highly likely to speak French, this would seem to indicate a preference for

Susu in this situation. The baggage carriers also switch to Susu when speaking to each other. What I did not expect to hear in this situation, however, was English. Yet one man did approach my group speaking fluent English. Although I could not confirm it, this man was probably not Guinean. He was probably from Liberia or a former British colony. During a later trip to the airport, I was approached by a man in French. The same man then approached a Guinean (who, ironically, does not speak Susu) in Susu.

Much the same attitude exists in the marketplace. If all of the interlocutors in a conversation are from the same language group, they normally speak their native

4 For simplicity, “European” also refers to Americans of European descent. 26 language. Otherwise, Susu is the language of choice. However, the presence of a white

“outsider” changes people’s attitudes. The first reaction of native Guineans is to speak

French with a European. This is true even among natives with only a limited knowledge of French vocabulary. If, however, a European is known to speak Susu or initiates the conversation in Susu, most Guineans will gladly speak Susu with that person. This is especially true of Guineans who are ethnically Susu. When an American who speaks

Susu started speaking Susu with shop owners, the tone of the conversation would change from business-like in French to joking in Susu. However, members of other ethnic groups, especially the Fulջe, sometimes prefer to use French with a European. Non-Susu have refused to speak Susu with Europeans. There are a number of possible explanations for this, all linked to the assumption that all Europeans speak French. The Fulջe tend to look down on other language groups. They may feel that speaking Susu with people who obviously speak French would be degrading. They do not want to identify themselves with the Susu. The fact that French is the language of education may also be a factor.

Speaking French shows that one has been educated. So, some people may feel that

Europeans speak Susu because they assume the Guineans are not educated. In spite of all of these conscious considerations, there is still an unconscious understanding that Susu is the appropriate language for the domain of the Conakry marketplace and other small businesses. This understanding was evidenced when I was speaking French with two

Fulջe women in the post office. In mid-conversation one of the women slipped, not into her native Pular but into Susu.

As trade languages, French and Susu are used among strangers in public situations. In more intimate settings among friends and family, these languages are not 27 heard as frequently. French, as the H language in the diglossia, is almost never heard in these settings except when it is the only possible option for communication. Susu is used in these situations among the Susu people but not other ethnic groups. Conakry is split into neighborhoods dominated by different ethnic groups. Naturally, ethnic groups use their native languages amongst themselves. Thus, in a Kissi neighborhood, one is most likely to hear Kissi spoken. However, even among members of different ethnic groups, other trade languages are sometimes used in the city among people who know each other.

This is especially true among peoples from the Forest Region. A Kissi and a Toma will speak to each other in Maninka (the trade language of the Forest Region) even when both also speak Susu and French.

In such a complex linguistic environment, sometimes communication cannot occur in just one language. At the Christian and Missionary Alliance compound in

Conakry, a group of men from various ethnic groups was hired for a construction project.

The workers included two men from Sierra Leone, two Susu, one Pulo, and four

Americans. This combination made communication difficult at times as there was no one language that all nine workers spoke. The Africans spoke either French or Susu amongst themselves. One of the Americans was able to communicate in French, but the other three had to have everything they said translated into Susu. Every morning before starting to work, this group gathered together for a morning devotion. The song they sang would be repeated in Susu, French, and even English. This mixing of languages often occurs when such extreme ethnic diversity exists in a group. 28

Fouta Djalon

The Fouta Djalon is the central region of highly fertile plateaus dominated by the

Fulջe people, who speak Pular. In spite of the ethnic diversity that exists in this historically highly contested region, there is much less linguistic diversity than might be expected. Many of the people that were enslaved by the Fulջe have since adopted Pular and, in fact, consider themselves to be ethnically Fulջe. Still, pockets of smaller language groups exist on the outskirts of the region. The major city in the Fouta Djalon is Labé, which is located in the heart of the region. Although Labé is the most diverse city in the Fouta Djalon, it is not as diverse as Conakry. Many members of other

Guinean ethnic groups live in Labé, but fewer foreigners do. French is still heard in official situations, including most media broadcasts. Radios and televisions can be heard throughout the marketplace broadcasting international news or World Cup soccer in

French. Likewise, French is used in government offices. Government officials tend to prefer to speak French. Of all the people of Guinea, they are both the most likely to have received an education and the most likely to live among a language group other than their own. Therefore, the preference for French can be linked to both pride and ease of communication. Outside of these official domains, however, French is not as common in

Labé as it is in Conakry.

The Fulջe people use French less often than any of the other peoples in Guinea.

Where other groups consider French to be the appropriate trade language with Europeans, many Fulջe appear to consider Pular to be superior (and, therefore, preferable) to all other languages. Pular is used to initiate all conversations in the marketplace, even when 29 speaking to a European. The Fulջe would only speak French to me when it became clear that it was the only language in which I could communicate. However, many of the women could not communicate in French. Since women are less likely than men to have received an education, they are less likely to speak French. This is true all over Guinea, but is exacerbated among the Fulջe because French is so rarely heard in the marketplace.

An American family living in Labé employs several Fulջe at their home. At first, the family could only communicate in French, but they gradually learned to communicate in

Pular. Their employees were willing to speak French initially, but later gladly switched to Pular.

Non-Fulջe Africans living in Labé follow many of the same sociolinguisic rules as the non-Susu living in Conakry. They use their native language amongst themselves and the local language, Pular, as a trade language. A Kissi man uses Pular with his coworkers. Even a Hausa family that immigrated from Nigeria 15 years earlier follows the same rules. They speak Hausa when they are with other family members but Pular when they are working at their booth in the marketplace. However, as with any set of rules, there are exceptions. The most common examples are people who do not speak the appropriate language for the situation, including Europeans who, like myself, do not speak any of the native languages. Likewise, native Guineans are sometimes forced to break these rules. I encountered two Susu men from Conakry residing in Labé temporarily. They had come to the region because of a construction job and had not been there long enough to learn Pular. Breaking the sociolinguistic rules can also be a sign of familiarity. A group of Maninka men recognized a European who used to live and work among the Susu. Instead of greeting her in Pular as expected, they greeted her in Susu. 30

This deviation from the sociolinguistic norm would not have occurred between people who did not know each other.

Upper Guinea

Upper Guinea (Haute Guinée) is a semi-desert in eastern Guinea dominated by the

Maninka5 people. Ethnically and linguistically, it is probably the most homogenous region in Guinea. The major city of the region, Kankan, has historically been a key part of many of the successive major empires of pre-colonial West Africa. However, the

Maninka have remained the dominant group. Because of this homogeneity, French is heard in Kankan only slightly more than in Labé. As expected, media broadcasts are in

French, and government agencies are run in French. Even when speaking privately to a

Maninka man, the director of the Kankan prison used French. Signs are also written in at least French, although most are also written in Maninka in both Arabic script and the

N’ko indigenous script. In other areas, however, there is a sharp contrast between the usage of and attitudes toward French in Kankan as opposed to Labé. In Kankan, as in

Conakry, Europeans are addressed in French in the marketplace unless they are known to speak Maninka. Even though many of the vendors do not speak French, they do know marketplace vocabulary, such as the names of produce, “Combien?” (“How much?”), and numbers. There seems to be an attitude of pride in the education that French represents that is lacking among the Fulջe. A European walking down the streets of Kankan will be followed by children shouting “bonjour,” “bonsoir,” and “ça va?” Although Maninka is still the language of familiarity, some bilinguals still code-switch. The code-switching is highly topicalized, however. Friends who attended school together may switch between

5 This large language group is spread over a large area in West Africa and is know by many different names including Maninka, Bambara, Dyula, Malinké, Mandinka, Mandingo, and Wangara (Bird and Shopen, 1979). 31

Maninka to talk about family and personal matters and French to talk about work. This usage of French reflects both its status as the language of business and the lack of job- related technical terms in Maninka. Despite this respect for French, Maninka remains the language of everyday life in Upper Guinea.

The respect for French among the Maninka does not diminish their love for their own language. If a European speaks Maninka to them, they will gladly switch. Even my attempts to use what little bit of the language I was able to learn in two weeks were met with joy and encouragement. With the exception of a few specialized topics, Maninka is used in the marketplace and in conversations between family and friends. Children speak

Maninka outside of school. Two high-school age, bilingual girls chose to spoke Maninka to each other even in a conversation where I was present. They only used French when speaking directly to me. Nothing in their behavior led me to believe that they were trying to be rude in any way. Maninka was simply the natural language to speak in that situation.

Hearing French and Maninka in Kankan was no surprise. However, hearing some of the other languages used was surprising. Pular and Susu are rarely spoken in Kankan, but they can be heard sung. The youth listen to modern music in all three languages, even though they do not understand what is being said. Other languages can also be used to show respect for someone assumed to speak the language. The Fulջe have lighter skin than other Guineans. Therefore, one light-skinned African-American living in Kankan is often confused for a Fulջe. Thus, some people greet him in Pular. He is also sometimes greeted in Arabic, a language he does not speak but that is highly regarded among the

Maninka, who are almost all Muslim. In Kankan, Arabic is in fact heard more than Pular 32 and Susu even though only a handful of Maninka people can speak it. Five times a day, a call to prayer is issued in Arabic over a loud speaker at the local mosque. This call can be heard all over the city. Many public prayers are said in Arabic, in addition to public readings from the Quaran. Even more surprising than the usage of Arabic is the usage of

English. The majority of wood carvers in Kankan are conversationally fluent in English but do not speak French. This is probably due to the lack of a tourist industry in Guinea.

Wood carvers, more than other merchants, are dependent on tourists. In order to make money, most of them migrated to English-speaking Liberia until they were forced to return to Guinea at the outset of the Liberian civil war. English can also be heard among those who have received a high level of education: from the regional director of the

Kankan prison addressing American visitors to a villager discussing private financial matters with an American friend. Even this ethnically homogenous region reflects the extreme linguistic diversity of Guinea.

Forest Region

Finally, the Forest Region (Guinée forestière) is a region of forests in southern

Guinea and is home to various small groups who use Maninka as a trade language. This region is unique in many ways. There is no dominant group. The trade language is borrowed from another region. Religiously, “les forestiers” are either traditionalists or

Christians. While diglossia exists among the Susu, Fulջe, and Maninka, triglossia exists in the Forest Region. The local languages are spoken with family and friends from the same language group. French is still used as the language of government and education.

However, in the marketplaces and cities (where there is most likely to be a mix of members of various groups), Maninka is used as a trade language. This third, middle 33 level is used not only for communicative purposes but also as a sign of solidarity between people from the Forest Region living in other parts of Guinea. As we have already seen, people from this region living in Conakry will speak Maninka with each other instead of

French or Susu. The triglossia in the Forest Region is a result of the extreme linguistic diversity of the region. This diversity rivals the diversity in Conakry, except that the different groups are native to the region.

The vast majority of Guinean Christians are from the Forest Region; thus, churches in the region, in addition to in Conakry, are highly multi-lingual. This leads to issues of language usage that are not present in Arabic-centered Muslim mosques.

Language usage is an issue even in rural churches with congregations that are mostly from one language group. Older pastors preach in the local language, and the sermon is translated into French if necessary. However, younger pastors are increasingly being trained in French Bible colleges. Since their religious training is in French, they are more comfortable preaching in French. Sermons are then translated into the local language. In the cities of the Forest Region and in Conakry, the congregation is, of course, more likely to be multi-ethnic. Announcements and sermons are often delivered in French and translated into either Susu (in Conakry) or Maninka. The elderly, who are more likely to be monolingual, often sit with members of their language group who can translate the sermon for them. Songs are sung in a variety of languages including French, Maninka,

Kissi, and Toma. Using multiple languages is a necessity for communication in such circumstances and can also be interpreted as a sign of unity. However, communication is not always the goal of language choice. In spite of the sociolinguistic rules, language usage is still a personal choice. At a ladies’ meeting at a church in Conakry, an expatriate 34 gave a presentation in French. A Toma woman who also speaks Mankinka, Susu, and

French translated the speech into Susu. During the presentation, the women in the audience protested that they understood neither French nor Susu. However, the translator continued in Susu instead of switching to the sociolinguistically appropriate Maninka.

Conclusion

In a country with over 40 native languages, a language inherited from colonization, another language spread with religion, and even more languages brought in through immigration, communication can be difficult. The choice of which language to use and under what circumstances when is influenced by often contradictory factors. The strongest factor in most situations is ease of communication. Pride, prestige, solidarity, intimacy, ethnicity, religion, location, and topic are all also factors. Across the country,

French is used in education and the government; members of the same ethnic group use their native language; and one of the three major languages of Guinea is used as a trade language. Other generalizations can also be made on a regional basis. However, these generalizations must always be tempered by the understanding that language usage is an inherently human activity. Even if it were possible to account for every relevant factor, it would be impossible to predict language choice with great accuracy. CHAPTER 4 LANGUAGE USAGE IN WESTERN AFRICA

Introduction

Linguistic diversity is far from being exclusive to Guinea. In fact, it is the norm in Africa and, arguably, word-wide. European colonialism has left a linguistic legacy in

Asia and the Americas in addition to Africa. Throughout the Americas, Native

Americans still hold to their native languages despite the continuing onslaught of

English, French, Spanish and Portuguese. In Canada, two colonial languages, English and French, vie for influence. Even here in the United States, Spanish and Ebonics are challenging the dominance of English and have become the subject of many emotionally- charged debates. Europe itself is not immune to this trend. The Bretons of north-western

France are trying to revitalize their language, and the Basque of France and Spain are fighting to keep theirs. Switzerland has four national languages, and Belgium has two. A comparison of linguistically diverse countries world-wide is beyond the scope of this thesis. However, I will examine the situation in Senegal, Togo, and the Republic of

Congo, three other former French colonies in western Africa, with the situation in Guinea in order to examine some similarities and differences and to discuss the comparative feasibility of linguistic unity.

Senegal

In Chapter 3, I discussed how the history and cultures of Guinea have come together to create a unique linguistic landscape. In her study of language usage in Dakar,

35 36

Senegal, Leigh Swigart found a similar interaction between history, culture, and language.

In few other types of cultural behavior is the coming together of disparate traditions and systems so evident and so striking. In simply negotiating the price of tomatoes or chatting with a neighbor, the typical Dakarois attests to past eras of trade, conquest, and the struggle for independence. He or she will simultaneously draw upon linguistic systems which have evolved and been culturally shaped on different continents and under widely different circumstances (Swigart 1992).

The very different histories of Senegal and Guinea have created very different language usage patterns. One of the most important differences is that, unlike Guinea, Senegal has one dominant indigenous language: Wolof, which is spoken by about 80% of the population (McLaughlin 1995). The three largest cities in Guinea each use a different trade language. Urban areas in Senegal are dominated by Wolof. This seems to have caused a problem of ethnic identity not found in Guinea. Members of other ethnic groups who are born in the city often consider themselves to be Wolof simply because that is the language that they speak. Except for the Serer, who generally do not consider language to be related to ethnicity, the minority groups of Senegal are losing numbers to the

Wolof. This phenomenon has caused the Senegalese Fulջe and Tukulor to join ranks under the name Haalpulaar (“speakers of Pular”) because of the strong link they feel between language and ethnicity (McLaughlin 1995). Even in the cities of Guinea, it is comparatively easy to maintain ones ethnic identity. Cities in Guinea are split into ethnic neighborhoods that insure that a child’s first language will probably be that of her or his ethnic group, not the trade language of the region.

Another result of the dominance of Wolof is the creation of a mixed

Wolof/French code known as Urban Wolof (Swigart 1992). Urban Wolof is spoken in

Dakar, the capital of Senegal. As in Guinea, French is the language of business, 37 education, and government in Senegal. In fact, French may be even more influential in

Dakar, which was the capital of French West Africa during colonization. The interaction of Wolof and French over the centuries created the mixed code. Pure Wolof is rarely heard in Dakar and attitudes toward it seem to be fairly ambivalent, if not contradictory.

It is both respected as “true” Wolof and looked down upon as a rural language. Urban

Wolof is so entrenched in Dakar society that the average Dakarois has trouble distinguishing between the Wolof borrowings and the French borrowings. As Swigart noted, “some notations [are] better expressed, socially if not referentially, in French.”

These include time, days, months, and numbers (Swigart 1992). Largely due to the lack of a single dominant language and the attempt to eradicate the influence of French under

Sekou Touré, Guinea has no equivalent to Urban Wolof. However, lexical borrowings from French exist in every language. Even in remote rural areas, French numbers can be heard throughout marketplaces, even though the local languages do, of course, have numbers. French terms are also used for concepts that were unknown in the area before colonization, such as “français” and “Etats-Unis.”

Togo

After World War I, Germany was forced to cede its colonies to France and

Britain. Thus, Togo, half of the former German colony of Togoland, became part of

French West Africa. Togo has three major indigenous languages: Ewe, Tem, and

Kabiyé. The Ewe are the largest group and make up about half of the population, but the

Kabiyé control the government under President Gnasimbe Eyadema. Although French is currently the language of government in Togo, some do desire to unite the country under one indigenous language. Because of this desire, Kabiyé and Ewe have been declared 38 official languages along with French. Tem, the second largest language, was not chosen partly because of a fear of the . As opposed to the Ewe and Kabiyé, who are split between traditional beliefs and Christianity, the Tem are almost entirely Muslim and geographically split the country. Many of the Tem also desire to be left alone for the most part and do not seem to object to being left out of the government. The Kabiyé are a smaller, closed group, so their language is not likely to be able to unite the country either. Thus, the government of Togo is pushing Ewe as the language of integration. The

Ewe consider themselves to be a linguistic group, not an ethnic group. Like the Wolof of

Senegal, the Ewe are generally open to members of other ethnic groups joining their ranks. The capital of Togo, Lomé, is also in Ewe territory, so Togolese seeking employment or an education travel to Ewe territory. English-speaking Ewe from neighboring anglophone Ghana also contributes to the growth of Ewe in Togo. They freely migrate to Togo, where most of them can only communicate in Ewe and, thus diminish the role of French as a trade language (Der Houssikian, in-class lecture). This concerted effort toward linguistic unity is the opposite of the situation in Guinea. Under

Sekou Touré, 15 languages were recognized as national languages in an attempt to replace French as quickly as possible. The results were so disastrous that Guinea would probably be unlikely to repeat the experiment any time soon.

Congo

During the colonial period, the Republic of Congo was a member of French

Equatorial Africa. As in the other countries discussed here, including Guinea, French is the language of government in Congo. However, the government of Congo, like the government of Togo, is making an effort to unite the country under a single language. 39

The largest group in Congo is the Bakongo who speak Kikongo. Two other large languages are Kiteke and Lingala, a trade language used along the Congo River.

However, the language that the government has chosen to try to spread is Kituba, a simplified form of Kikongo that is used as a trade language among the Bakongo and the

Bateke. Lingala would also be an option; but, since it is also spoken in the neighboring

Democratic Republic of Congo (formerly Zaire), the Congolese government prefers

Kituba, which is only spoken in the Republic of Congo. Kituba has an advantage that neither Wolof in Senegal nor Ewe in Togo has: no group claims Kituba as their native language. It has the potential of being adopted without abandoning one’s own culture.

The area where Kituba is spoken is home to 85% of the population of Congo, so it is already on its way to becoming the main trade language (Der Houssikian, in-class lecture).

Conclusion

In this chapter, I discusses the sociolinguistic situations of three former French colonies to compare them to the situation in Guinea. Each country has a variety of language groups and uses French as the official language. The biggest difference noted is the possibility of unifying the country under one common language. As was discussed in

Chapter 1, this can be a controversial endeavor. Because of the failed linguistic experiment and the strength of Susu, Pular, and Maninka, such and experiment would seem to be unreasonable in Guinea for now. Wolof appears to be fast becoming a unifying language in Senegal, even without government intervention and despite the protests of other groups. Ewe in Togo has the support of the government and is spreading with urbanization, but it has the disadvantage of carrying with it Ewe culture. 40

Kituba in the Republic of Congo also has the support of the government but is not associated with any ethnic group. Each of these former French colonies, despite their similarities, has a unique situation and, thus, a different road to and level of desire for linguistic unity. CHAPTER 5 MAJOR LANGUAGES OF GUINEA

Introduction

All of the native languages of Guinea belong to the largest language phylum in the world, Niger-Congo (Williamson and Blench 2002). Thus, Susu, Maninka, and Pular are all related languages. However, while Pular, a member of the Atlantic , is distantly related to the other two, Susu and Maninka are closely related. Both are members of the Mande language family. As a result, Susu and Maninka have more in common with each other than they do with Pular, which is geographically located between them. Even with the similarities between Susu and Maninka, each one of these three languages has distinct grammatical characteristics that distinguish it as unique.

Given the extended period that they have been in close contact, this might be surprising to some. In this chapter, to illustrate some of the similarities and differences between these three languages, I am comparing the nominal (including pronouns) and verbal morphologies of each. The analysis of Susu comes from Houis (1963). The analysis of

Maninka comes from Delafosse (1929). The analysis of Pular comes from Diallo (2000).

For consistency, all statistics on the number of speakers of each language come from SIL

(2003b).

Susu

Susu is a member of the Mande language family of the Niger-Congo phylum of

West Africa. It is the first language of 800,000 people (1993 estimate) in Guinea. Susu is spoken in a highly varied region and among people of several ethnicities. However, it

41 42 has remained highly homogenous. The largest divergence from the norm is among the people of the Boké region. Although native speakers of Susu can immediately identify a speaker from Boké by their accent, Boké is also immediately intelligible with the other dialects of Susu. Susu borders on regions with a variety of other language groups including other Mande languages such as Maninka and Yalunka in addition to members of other language families such as Pular. These borders are not strict lines, but more like a “contact zones.” In fact, it is not uncommon to find a Pular village in a Susu region or even a Pular family living in a Susu village.

Susu morphology is based on an open class of lexical bases from which both nouns and verbs are derived. The majority of these bases are disyllabic, although a few bases have one, three, or four syllables. They are split into two groups. “Bivalent” bases can function as a noun or a verb depending on the affixes attached to the base.

“Monovalent” bases can only function as nouns. Susu has both prefixes and suffixes.

The derivational morphemes that attach to lexical bases are prefixes. All nominal affixes are suffixes. Verbal morphology, however, is mixed between prefixes and suffixes.

The basic and most common syllable structure in Susu is CV. Figures 5-1 shows the representations of the phonemes used in the examples. All of these vowels also contrast phonemically with a long version (i:, e:, E:, a:, u:, o:, ç:) and a nasal version (i‚, e),

E), a), u), o), ç)). In addition, Susu has phonemic contrast based on tone. The vowel of every syllable is marked by low tone (e$), high tone (e@), lowering tone (e^), raising tone (e&), or neutral tone (e). We can see that this contrast is phonemic in the following example:

/sa@ra@/ ‘trumpet,’ /sa$ra@/ ‘to sell.’ 43

Figure 5-1 Susu Phonemes

Consonants bilabial labiodental alveo-dental alveolar velarlabial palatal velar glottal Voiceless p t k Stop Voiced Stop b d gb g Nasal m n ñ N Nasalized nd ng Fricatives f s x h Lateral l Trill r Glide j

Vowels Front Central Back High i u High-Mid e o Low-Mid E ç Low a

The lexical bases in Susu do not have to be monomorphemic. They can be made up of a root plus one or more of seven derivational prefixes: {ra-}, {ma-}, {i-}, {xu-},

{ja-}, {tagi-}, {ku-}. The prefix {ra-} is a causative (/ti$seè)/ ‘to sneeze,’ /[email protected]$seè)/ ‘to make someone sneeze’). These bases are glossed as verbs in the infinitive for convenience, but they are not verbs. The prefix {ma-} (see {-si} in Maninka) is an iterative (/dE@xE@/ ‘to give light,’ /[email protected]$xE$/ ‘to shine’). These two can appear together as the prefix {mara-}.

This prefix is fairly rare and the resulting meaning is unpredictable. The prefix {i-} indicates a process (/doè)/ ‘to eat,’ /[email protected])ò/ ‘to chew’). The prefix {xu)-} (see {to:-} in

Maninka) is an intensifier derived from a noun meaning ‘head’ (/wa@/ ‘to cry,’ /xuè).ma$.wa$/

‘to complain’). The prefix {ja-} is derived from a noun meaning ‘eye’ or ‘vision’

(/[email protected]ç$xç$/ ‘to stab,’ /[email protected]$.sç$xç$/ ‘to glance at’). {tagi-} is derived from a noun meaning 44

‘center’ (/so@/ ‘to enter,’ /ta@[email protected]$/ ‘to enter in the middle’). The prefix {ku-} is derived from a noun meaning ‘the interior’ (/ba@laè)/ ‘to close,’ /[email protected]@.ba$la)ò/ ‘to close from inside’).

Nouns are formed by adding the nominal suffix {-i} to a lexical base. This suffix then combines with the final vowel of the base according to the pattern shown in Figure

5-2. There are seven nominal derivational morphemes: {-ma@}, {-la@}, {-tç@E}, {-ta$re$},{-

ña^}, {-de@}, and {-ja@}. The suffixes {-ma@}, {-la@}, and {-tç@E} are agentive. The suffix {- ma@} (see {-ta} and {-baka} in Maninka) does not carry any other semantic weight (/fu@re@/

‘illness,’ /fu@[email protected]@/ ‘someone who is sick.’). The suffix {-la@}, on the other hand, has a positive, affectionate connotation while {- tç@E} (see {-ntji} in Maninka) is pejorative.

The suffix {-ta$re$} (see {-nta)} in Maninka) indicates the lack of a something (/tu@li@/ ‘ear,’

/tu@[email protected]$re$/ ‘someone without ears (deaf)’). The suffix {-ña^} (see {-ja} in Maninka) is an abstraction (/bo@:re@/ ‘friend,’ /bo@:re@. ña^/ ‘friendship’). The suffixes {-de@} and {-ja@} are both locatives (/gi@ri@/ ‘to cross,’ /gi@[email protected]@/ ‘bridge’) with {-ja@} used only in place names.

Susu also uses compounding to create new words. There are six very common morphemes used in compounds that can be distinguished from the regular

Figure 5-2 Combinations of Word-Final Vowels and the Nominal Suffix {-i}

Final vowel of base Final vowel of noun u ui or i o oe or e ç çE or E a E E E e e i i V) V)ji 45

derivational morphemes because the resulting words carry the same tonal patterns as compounds: {-ti@}, {-so@e}, {-se^}, {-di^}, {-ka)èji$}, and {-ka^}. All but {-ka)èji$} and {-ka^} also exist as free morphemes. The suffixes {-ti@} and {-so@e} are agentive. The suffix {-se^} marks concrete objects (/do)Ù/ ‘to eat,’ /do)ò.se^/ ‘food’). The suffix {-difl}is a diminutive.

The suffix {-ka)èji$} indicates the person who possesses something (/sE)èbE@/ ‘strength,’

/sE)è[email protected])èji$/ ‘strong person (who possesses strength)’). The suffix {-ka^} (see {-ka} and

{-nka} in Maninka) is a locative indicating ethnic or geographic origin (/kapo@ @@ro@/ name of a village, /ka@po@[email protected]^/ ‘someone from Kaporo’). There are also several inflectional suffixes that can be added to Susu nouns. The suffix {-e^} (see {-lu} in Maninka) marks plurality. The suffixes {-ta)} and {-na)} mark emphasis with {-ta)} being used when the emphasized noun is contrasted with another noun. The suffix {-gbe&} marks possession and is usually, though not exclusively, attached to pronouns (discussed below). The suffix {-jE$tE@} is a type of emphatic marker meaning ‘self.’ The suffix {-fa)è} is an additive meaning ‘also’ or ‘too.’ Susu also has seven personal pronouns and demonstrative pronouns. The personal pronouns are shown in Figure 5-3. We know from {-gbe&} that pronouns can take their own morphemes and are not a part of verbal morphology. This

Figure 5-3 Susu Pronouns

Singular Plural 1st person n@ 1st person inclusive wo)Ù 2nd person i@ 1st person exclusive mu$xu$ 3rd person a 2nd person wo@ 3rd person e 46

justifies their classification as freestanding pronouns instead of just person markers. The demonstrative pronouns are /ji@/, which indicates a close, specific object, and /na@/, which indicates a far-away, vague object.

Verbs in Susu are formed by adding mood and aspect morphemes to a bivalent lexical base. The indicative mood, which indicates that the action of the verb is certain, is unmarked. It contrasts with the hypothetical mood, marked by {nu@-}, which indicates that the action is possible but uncertain. Both of these two moods can be combined with the negative morpheme, {mu@-}, and one of the five aspects of Susu. The suffix {-ma$} marks prospective aspect which indicates that the action is going to happen in the future.

{-xi$} marks permanent aspect and indicates that an action has been completed and was completed intentionally with a durable result. The suffix {-fe$} marks progressive aspect which indicates that the action started in the past, continues in the present, and will end in the future. Verbs in this aspect are also preceded by /na@/ ‘to be.’ The prefix {ba@ra$-} marks inchoative aspect which indicates that the action has recently begun but does not comment on whether it has ended or how long it will last. The aorist aspect is unmarked.

This is a perfective aspect, but is used to simply present the action or statement without any temporal reference. The possible combinations of mood and aspect are shown in the

Figure 5-4. Susu also has three other moods that cannot combine with the aspect markers. The prefix {na@xa$-} marks narrative mood which is used to recount a story or a past event of which the speaker is uncertain. The prefixes {xa-} and {na@ma$-} mark desiderative mood which indicates that the speaker wishes the action to happen ({xa-}) or 47

Figure 5-4 Aspect and Mood in Susu

Indicative Hypothetical Permanent a [email protected]$ ‘she left (for a long time)’ a [email protected][email protected]$ ‘she might have left (for a long time)’ Inchoative a ba@ra$.si$ga@ ‘she is starting to leave’ a [email protected]@ra$.si$ga@ ‘she might be starting to leave’ Prospective a [email protected]$ ‘she is going to leave’ a [email protected][email protected]$ ‘she might leave’ Progressive a [email protected][email protected]$ ‘she is leaving’ a [email protected]@[email protected]$ ‘she might be leaving’ Aorist a si$ga@ ‘she left’ a [email protected]$ga@ ‘she might have left’ not to happen ({na@ma$-}). Finally, the imperative mood is unmarked and also does not appear with a pronoun. This aspect corresponds to a command.

Maninka

Like Susu, Maninka is also a member of the Mande language family. It is spoken by about 1,890,000 people in Guinea. Maninka is actually one of three mutually comprehensible dialects of Mandingo. The other two dialects are Bambara and Dioula.

These three dialects have the same morphology with some variation in the form of the morphemes. When various possible allomorphs are listed, I will use only the first form listed as the morpheme, unless another form is specifically marked as belonging to

Maninka.

Maninka morphology is based on lexical roots similar to those in Susu, although monosyllabic bases are more common in Maninka. We saw in Susu that all of the roots can be nominalized by adding the suffix {-i}, but only some of them can be used as verbs. The same is true in Maninka except that these roots can actually be classified as nominal and the claim can be made that verbs are derived from nouns. This is because there is no obligatory nominalizing affix. Unaltered roots can appear as nouns in sentences. Another similarity with Susu is the predominance of suffixes in nominal 48 morphology. In Maninka, however, there are three nominal prefixes. Also, all verbal morphology uses prefixes.

The basic and most common syllable structure in Maninka, as in Susu, is CV. As shown below, Maninka and Susu have similar phonemes. They have the same vowel system and many consonants in common. Maninka adds the affricates and glides but does not have /gb/, /x/, or the nasalized consonants. Because of some confusion in the phonology section of Delafosse (1929) I have adapted the phoneme charts for Maninka from Drame (1981). Figure 5-5 shows the representations of the phonemes that will be used in the examples. All of these vowels also contrast phonemically with a long version

(i:, e:, E:, a:, u:, o:, ç:) and a nasal version (i), e), E), a), u), o), ç)). According to Delafosse

(1929), Maninka does have tone. However, it will not be shown here because Drame,

1981 does not indicate it in examples and it is debatable as to whether it is phonemic.

Figure 5-5 Maninka Phonemes Consonants bilabial labiodental alveo-dental alveolar palatal velar glottal Voiceless p t k Stop Voiced Stop b d g Nasal m n ñ N Fricatives f s h Voiceless ç Affricate Voiced J Affricate Lateral l Trill r Glide w j

Vowels Front Central Back High i u High-Mid e o Low-Mid E ç Low a 49

Pronouns in Maninka are free morphemes, not attached to the verb. The form of the singular pronouns resembles the forms of singular pronouns in Susu, as shown in

Figure 5-6. These pronouns are used as subjects, direct objects, possessors, and sometimes as relationals. Maninka also has four demonstrative pronouns. The pronouns

/o/ (singular) and /o.lu/ (plural) usually designate an object that is far away. The pronouns /ni/ (singular) and /ni.u/ (plural) usually designate an object that is closer.

Finally, there are eight interrogative pronouns: /gjo)/ (singular) and /gjo).u/ (plural)

“who,” /mu/ (singular) and /mu.nu/ (plural) “what,” /gju.ma/ (singular) and /gju.ma.nu/

(plural) “which,” /gjo:li/ (singular) and /gjo:l.u/ (plural) “how many.” The plurals of all of the interrogative pronouns are rarely used.

Nouns in Maninka are not obligatorily marked. However, they can be optionally marked by the suffix {-o}. Like the noun marker {-i} in Susu, {-o} is realized differently depending on the preceding phoneme. All other derivational affixes in Maninka can be used to form nouns. Some of them can also be used to form adjectives while others can also be used to form verbs. The purely nominal suffixes are {-ka}, {-nka}, {-ja}, {-li},

{-la)}, {-ta}, {-baka}, {-ntji}, and {-tigi}. The suffixes {-ka} and {-nka} (see {- ka^} in

Susu) are both nationality markers (/se:gu/ place name, /se:gu.ka/ “someone from

Ségou”). The suffix {-ka} is usually used after place names and names of clans. The suffix {-nka} is usually used after names of countries, people, and tribes. The suffix

{-ja} marks ethnicity. This suffix does not indicate that someone is necessarily from a

Figure 5-6 Maninka Pronouns

Singular Plural 1st person ne nelu 2nd person i ilu 3rd person a alu 50

certain group but that that person is descended from the group. The suffix {-li} attaches to roots that can be used as verbs and means “the action of...” (/tara/ “to go,” /tara.li/ “the action of going”). The suffix {-la)} marks the instrument of an action (/tegE/ “to cut,”

/tegE.la)/ “axe”). The suffixes {-ta} and {-baka} (see {-ma@} in Susu) are agentive

(/jiri.tegE/ “to cut wood,” /jiri.tegE.la/ “carpenter”). The suffix {-ntji} (see {- tç@E} in

Susu) is also agentive but has a pejorative connotation (/ka:lo)/ “to lie,” /ka:lo).ntji/ “liar”).

The suffix {-tigi} is derived from the base meaning “master” or “possessor” and this meaning is transferred to the suffix (/na:.folo/ “goods, wealth,” /na:.folo.tigi/ “someone rich”). The nominal/adjectival suffixes are {-ma}, {-nta)}, {-na}, {-no}, {-li}, {-ta}, and

{-ba:li}. The suffix {-ma} is a possessor (/fa)/ “strength,” /fa).ma/ “strong”). The suffix

{-nta)} (see {-ta$re$} in Susu) indicates the lack of something (/lu:/ “family home,” /lu:.nta)/

“without a home, stranger”). The suffix {-na} attaches to cardinal numbers and makes them ordinal (/fila/ “two,” /fila.na/ “second”). The suffixes {-no}, {-li}, {-ta} and

{-ba:li} mark a passivized adjective with {-no} being present (/kE/ “to do,” /kE.no/

“done”), {-li} being past (/kE.li/ “having been done”), {-ta} being future (/kE.ta/ “to be done”) and {-ba:li} being negative (/kE.ba:li/ “not done”). The nominal/verbal derivational affixes are {-ja}, {-ndi}, {-ka}, {-ma}, {-mu}, {-mi}, {-ke}, {-si}, and the three derivational prefixes {la:-}, {ma:-}, and {to:-}. The suffix {-ja} (see {- ña^} in

Susu) marks abstract nouns (/teri/ “friend,” /teri.ja/ “friendship”). The suffix {-ndi} marks a transitive verb (/kisi/ “help,” /kisi.ndi/ “to save”). The suffixes {-ka}, {-ma}, 51

{-mu}, and {-mi} all vary in the meaning added to the root. The suffix {-ke} is a pejorative or diminutive (/ferE/ “to look,” /ferE.ke/ “to spy”). The suffix {-si} (see {-ma} in Susu) is an iterative. The suffix {la:-} indicates the arrangements made to accomplish an action (/be/ “to meet,” /la:.be/ “arrangements made for a meeting”). The suffix {ma:-} means to perform an action with a specific purpose (/ferE/ “to look,” /ma:.ferE/ “to examine”). The prefix {to:-} (see {xu)-} in Susu) is an intensifier (/ti.nja)/ “to damage,”

/to:.ti.nja)/ “to destroy”). Maninka also has partial or whole reduplication of the root which marks intensity (/jala/ “to take a walk,” /jala.jala/ “to wander”). The inflectional suffixes of Maninka are {-lu}, {-te}, {-fa.na}, {-du}, {-ba}, {-ni}, {-di}, {-n.ja}, {-kjE},

{-musu}, {-di}, {-gu}, {-sa}, {-ma:}, and {-o:}. The suffix {-lu} (see {-e^} in Susu) marks plurality on nouns and pronouns, as can be seen in the pronoun chart. The suffix

{-te} is an emphasizer that can be added to any part of speech. The suffix {-fa.na} means

“as for...” (/ne/ 1st person singular, /ne.fa.na/ “as for me”). The suffix {-du} means approximately “therefore.” The suffix {-ba} is augmentive while {-ni} is diminutive.

The suffix {-di} is derived from a root meaning “child” (/sç/ “horse,” /sç.di/ “foal”).

{-n.ja} marks a measurement (/bolo.fa/ “a full hand,” /bolo.fa.n.ja/ “a fistfull”). The suffix {-musu} marks a female and {-kjE} marks a male (/de/ “child,” /de.muso/

“daughter,” /de.nkjE/ “son”). The suffix {-di} is derived from a root meaning “sweet” and acts as a ameliorator (/kuna/ “luck,” /kuna.ndi/ “good luck”). The suffix {-gu} is derived from a root meaning “bad, ugly” and has a pejorative meaning (/kuna.ngu/ “bad luck”). The suffix {-sa} indicates a state of excellence (/loma/ “embroidered clothing,” 52

/loma.sa/ “embroidered clothing of the finest quality”). The suffixes {-ma:} and {-o:} are unique because the root is repeated after these suffixes. The suffix {-ma:} is a superlative (/gja/) “big,” /gja.ma:.gja)/ “very big”). The suffix {-o:} means “every, each”

(/sa).fila/ “two years,” /sa).fila.o:.sa).fila/ “every two years”).

Maninka has no roots that are intrinsically “verbs.” Instead, like in Susu, verbs are derived from the lexical bases and are marked by conjugation markers. Maninka conjugates verbs for tense, aspect, and affirative vs negative. All verbal affixes are prefixes. The prefix {ka:-} marks perfective aspect in the affirmative. The prefix {ma:-} marks perfective aspect in the negative. Perfective aspect marks the action as already accomplished. The prefix {bi-} marks aorist aspect in the affirmative. The prefix {ti-} marks aorist aspect in the negative. Aorist aspect marks the action as not yet completed.

Either the action is in progress or will be done in the future. The prefix {ka-} marks subordinate aspect in the affirmative. The prefix {ka.na:-} marks subordinate aspect in the negative. Subordinate aspect marks the action as subordinate to another action (stated or understood). Maninka also has six tenses. Present tense in the affirmative is marked by the presence of the auxiliary /bE/, “to be present.” Present tense in the negative is marked by the presence of the auxiliary /ta/, “to be absent.” Future tense in the affirmative is marked by the presence of the auxiliary /be.na:/. Future tense in the negative is marked by the presence of the auxiliary /ti.na:/. Past tense is marked by {tu-}.

This prefix can be added to the present to form an imperfect tense, to the aorist to form a habitual tense, to the future to form a conditional, or to the perfective to form a preterit. 53

Pular

Pular is a member of the Atlantic language family of Niger-Congo. It is spoken by about 2,550,000 people in Guinea (1991 estimate). The dialect of Guinea is also known as Fouta Jalon after the large mountainous region in central Guinea from which it originates. Fouta Jalon is further split into three regional dialects: eastern, central, and western. The eastern dialect borders on Maninka territory in eastern Guinea, resulting in a many lexical borrowings between the two language groups. The western dialect, on the other hand, borders on Susu territory along the western coast of Guinea and is characterized by lexical borrowings from Susu, as well as from French because of the proximity to the capital, Conakry.

Unlike Susu and Maninka, Pular is a highly verbal language. Lexical bases are inherently either nouns or verbs, although there are derivational morphemes that can create nouns from verbs and vice versa. Nouns in Pular are further split into 24 classes.

This class system forms the basis of nominal morphology and the pronoun system.

Verbal morphology is much more complex, including derivational morphemes and inflectional voice/aspect morphemes. All affixes in Pular are suffixes.

The basic syllable structure of Pular is CVC. Pular has the same vowel system as

Susu and Maninka, except for the lack of low-mid vowels (/E/ and /ç/). It also has many of the same consonants. However, Pular has more consonants than Susu or Maninka including the addition of implosives. Figure 5-7 shows the representations of the phonemes that will be used in examples. All of these vowels also contrast phonemically with a long version (i:, e:, a:, u:, o:) and, in the Fouta Jalon, a nasal version (i), e), a,) u), o)).

The existence of nasal vowels in the dialect of the Fouta Jalon may be the result of 54 influence from Susu and Maninka. Consonants in Pular undergo a morphologically conditioned mutation morpheme-initially in nouns, infinitives, and class suffixes

([reedu]/[deedi] ‘belly,’ singular/plural). In addition to the [r]/[d] alternation, there are several others that apply to simple nouns and adjectives: [f] alternates with [p], [w] alternates with [b] or, [h] alternates with [k], [j] alternates with [J] or [g], [b] alternates with [mb], [d] alternates with [nd], [g] alternates with [ng]. The following alternations, on the other hand, apply to infinitives and verbal nouns: [j] alternates with [nJ]; [w] alternates with [mb]; [r] alternates with [nd]; [w] alternates with [ng]; [w], [g], and [ng] alternate; [r], [d], and [nd] alternate; and [?], [g], [ng] alternate. The mid vowels in Pular undergo vowel harmony with the feature [+/-ATR]. The mid vowels, /e/ and /o/, are realized as [E] and [ç] unless followed by a high vowel, /i/ or /u/. In this environment, /e/ and /o/ are realized as [e] and [o]. The vowel harmony occurs across consonants, but not across the low vowel /a/.

Figure 5-7 Pular Phonemes Consonants bilabial labiodental alveo-dental alveolar palatal velar glottal Voiceless p t c k ? Stop Voiced Stop b d J g Implosive ջ Î y Nasal m n ¯ N Nasalized mb nd nJ ng Fricatives f s h Lateral l Trill r Glide w j

Vowels Front Central Back High i u Mid e o Low a 55

Pular has 24 noun classes. Every noun is marked by a suffix indicating the noun class that it belongs to. Each of these suffixes has several phonologically conditioned allomorphs. The same nominal root can belong to different classes, resulting in a different meaning. This can be seen by the distinction between /leg.gel/ “small wood” and /leg.gi:/ “large wood.” Both of these words are formed from the same root, {leg-}.

Some of the noun classes can be identified as having a semantic meaning. The suffix

{-Îo} marks the human class in the singular (/lan.Îo/ “leader”). The plural of the human class is marked by {-ջe} (/lam.ջe/ “leaders”). There are two augmentative classes, marked in the singular by {-ngal} and {-ngi:}. The plural form of both of these suffixes is {-Îe}. There are also two diminutive classes, marked by {-kun} and {-ngel}. The suffix {-ngel} carries more of a pejorative connotation. The plural form of both diminutive suffixes is {-koj} for countable nouns and {-kal} for uncountable nouns, for example /lan.kal/ “a small quantity of salt”. The suffix {-Îan} marks liquids, as in

/ndij.an/ “water” and /bira:.Îan/ “milk.” It corresponds to the plural suffix {-Îe}. The rest of the noun classes do not have an identifiable meaning. Nouns marked by {-mba},

{-Îun}, {-du}, {-nge}, {-ngol}, {-ngu}, and {-kol} in the singular all take the plural marker {-Îi}. Nouns marked by {-nde}, {-ndi}, {-ngal}, {-ngo}, {-ki}, and {-ka} in the singular all take the plural marker {-Îe}. Two classes, {-di} and {-ko}, can take either

{-Îi} or {-Îe} in the plural. Nouns can also be formed from verbal roots. These are formed one of three ways. First, one of the class markers can be attached straight to the verbal root (/pi:r.u.gol/ “to fight,” /pi:r.o/ “a battle” (/-o/ is an allomorph of the morpheme 56

{-ngo})). Infinitives can also be used as nouns. These are formed with a verbal root, a voice marker (discussed below), and one of the two infinitive markers: {-de} and {-gol}.

/pi:r.u.gol/ from the last example is the root /pi:r-/ + the active voice marker /-u-/ + the infinitive marker /-gol/. Finally, nouns can be formed by adding a noun class marker to a fully inflected verb. The word /lo:t.aj.Îo/ “the one washing/who will wash” is made up of the verb root of “idea of washing” /lo:t-/ + the inflectional marker for active voice and imperfective aspect /-aj-/ + the noun class marker /-Îo/. Noun class markers also play an integral part of the pronoun system of Pular. They can be added to the interrogative root

{hon-} to form an interrogative pronoun. With the exception of the human class markers

{-Îo} and {-ջe}, they also are used as the short form of impersonal pronouns to replace a noun of the same class. To form the long form of a pronoun, the class markers attach to the particle {hi-}. The long form is used with subjects with durative verbs such as

/jidugol/ “to love,” with verbs in progressive aspect, and with sentences marked with the emphatic marker {ko}. The short form is used with all other subjects and with objects.

The human classes are replaced with personal pronouns. Figure 5-8 shows the forms of these pronouns. Pular also has three types of demonstrative pronouns that are based on the class markers. When placed before the noun, the class markers become demonstrative pronouns designating an object away from the speaker. Lengthening the vowel of the class marker designates an object close to the speaker. Adding the suffix

{-ya} to the class marks one noun in contrast to another.

Unlike in Susu and Maninka, verbs are the main grammatical category in Pular.

There are several common verbal derivational morphemes. The suffixes {-iÎ} and {-in} 57 derive verbs from nouns. The suffix {-iÎ} is a simple verbalizer with no other semantic content (/wul-/ “idea of solitude,” /wul.d.e.gol/ “to feel lonely”). The suffix {-in} is used in the same way when attached to a nominal root. However, when attached to a verbal root, {-in} is a causative. The suffix {-it} either reverses the action of the verb resulting in the opposite action or is an iterative (/udd.u.gol/ “to close,” /udd.it.u.gol/ “to open” or

“to close again”). The suffix {-d} marks an action that is performed by more than one subject together or at the same time (/janng.u.gol/ “to learn,” /janng.id.u.gol/ “to learn together”). The suffix {- )dir} marks reciprocal action between two of more subjects

(/wall.u.gol/ “to help,” /wall.i)dir.gol/ “to help each other”). The suffix {-in.kin} marks similation, meaning “to pretend to...” (/jang.u.gol/ “to read,” /jang.in.kin.a.gol/ “to pretend to read”). The suffix {-ir} indicates that the action is accomplished using some

Figure 5-8 Pular Pronouns

Subject Short Form Singular Plural 1st person me 1st person inclusive en 2nd person a 1st person exclusive men 3rd person o 2nd person on 3rd person ջe

Subject Long Form Singular Plural 1st person miÎo 1st person inclusive hiÎen 2nd person hiÎa 1st person exclusive meÎen 3rd person himo 2nd person hiÎon 3rd person hiջe

Object Singular Plural 1st person mi, an 1st person inclusive en 2nd person e, ma 1st person exclusive men 3rd person mo 2nd person on 3rd person ջe 58

Figure 5-9 Pular Perfective and Voices

Emphatic Narrative Regular Active Ø -i -i: Middle -i -i: -ke Passive -a -a: -a:ma object (/lo:t.u.gol/ “to wash,” /lo:t.ir.gol/ “to wash using...”). The suffix {-or} has several different functions including marking manner, cause, a comparative, and an action accomplished while another action is occurring. The suffix {-an} is a benefactive, marking an action that is done for someone’s benefit (/winnd.u.gol/ “to write,”

/wind.an.gol/ “to write to/for”). The suffix {-oj} marks an action that is distant from the speaker in time or space. Pular verbs are inflected for voice and aspect. Pular has three voices: active, middle, and passive. Inflectional morphemes mark one of these three voices and the aspect of the verb. Perfective aspect marks the action as completed and is further split into the emphatic perfective, the narrative perfective, and the regular perfective. Figure 5-9 shows the morphemes that mark the perfective and the three voices. The emphatic perfective places emphasis on the predicate and on the object of the verb. The narrative perfective is used in story-telling and other forms of narration.

The regular perfective is used in other situations where to show that the action is complete without adding any other semantic information. Imperfect aspect marks the action as incomplete and can further be split into the imperative, the subjunctive, the future, and the emphatic imperfect. Figure 5-10 shows the morphemes that mark the

Figure 5-10 Pular Imperfective and Voices Injunctive Subjunctive Future Emphatic Active Ø -a -aj -ata Middle -o -o: -oto -oto: Passive -e -e: -ete -ete: 59

Figure 5-11 Pular Progressive and Voices Narrative Subjunctive Present Continuative Active -i -a -u.de Middle -i: -o: -a:.de Passive -a: -e: -e:.de imperfective and the three voices. The imperative marks commands. The subjunctive is used in subordinate clauses, durative verbs in the present, the habitual present, and a sequence of imperatives. The future is used to mark an action that will take place in the future or for general truths and proverbs. The emphatic imperfect marks that some part of the sentence is emphasized, possibly, but not necessarily, the object. Progressive aspect marks the action as starting in the past and continuing into the future. It can be combined with the narrative perfect and the subjunctive or used alone to mark a present continuative. Figure 5-11 shows the morphemes that mark the progressive and the three voices. The preterit marker {-no:} can be added to the narrative perfect and the regular perfect to mark an action that is anterior to the time of speaking; and the future and the emphatic imperfect to mark the habitual past and the conditional. A combination of the preterit and the progressive aspect can combine with the narrative perfect and the emphatic imperfect. These have a similar meaning to the narrative perfect and the emphatic imperfect but emphasize the duration of the process Finally, negation is marked by the morpheme {-a:}, which combines with the voice and aspect.

Figure 5-12 Pular Preterit

Narrative Emphatic Imperfect Active -u.no: -ay.no: Middle -i.no: -oto, -no: Passive -a.no: -ete, -no: 60

Conclusion

Comparing the nominal and verbal morphology of Susu, Maninka, and Pular reveals many interesting similarities and differences. Since Susu and Maninka are both members of the same language family, they should have more in common with each other than with Pular. Morphologically, this turns out to be the case. The morphology of both Susu and especially Maninka is based on nouns. All of the lexical bases in both languages can be nouns. Only some of the lexical bases can serve as verbs. Most of the derivational morphology is also nominal. Pular morphology, on the other hand, is much more verbal, though not entirely based on verbs. Bases are inherently either nouns or verbs, but nouns can be derived from verbs and vice versa. Most of the derivational morphology in Pular is attached to the verbs. The pronoun system reveals highly diverse systems. The subject personal pronoun is similar between all three languages with Susu and Maninka having the same singular forms and Susu and Pular both having the same categories, including a distinction between 3rd person plural inclusive and exclusive.

However, the availability of other pronominal categories and the forms of the ones available vary between all three languages. The noun system again shows similarities between Susu and Maninka as distinct from Pular. Neither Susu nor Maninka has noun classes. However, they do have several derivational affixes that have the same function and, sometimes, even the same form. Pular, on the other hand, has 24 noun classes which each has its own class-marking suffix. The noun class system also heavily affects the impersonal pronoun system. The verb system reveals an interesting similarity between all three languages: they all mark aspect. The aspectual system is different in each system, but it is important to note that it does exist. Susu also marks mood, while 61

Maninka marks tense and Pular marks voice. Despite being spoken in the same region, these three languages have distinct, unique systems. However, comparing the two Mande languages, Susu and Maninka, reveals many more similarities than comparing either language with Pular. CHAPTER 6 QUESTIONS FOR FURTHER RESEARCH

No research is ever complete, and questions always remain to be answered. This study was meant to give a precursory view of language usage in Guinea, but a more in- depth study is needed than the mere taste of the situation that was possible during my two-month stay in the country. More time needs to be spent documenting further examples of language usage to substantiate the findings of this research and to discover more detailed nuances and patterns. A longer, more detailed study should be conducted by a researcher with more extensive knowledge of the languages of Guinea in order to be able to distinguish between them. It should also include more time spent in villages and smaller cities, especially cities located in areas dominated by a minority group. One drawback to my methodology was that I observed several situations in one region without observing a similar situation in the other regions. For example, I observed teenage

Maninka girls listening to music in Maninka, Susu, and Pular; but I was unable to observe if Susu or Fulջe youth would also listen to music in other languages. This observation cannot be assumed to be true among other groups. Although I was able to draw similar general conclusions from different situations observed in the different regions, comparing similar situations would shed further light on the subtleties of language usage in each region.

In addition to the expansions of my research mentioned above, another area for further research that would help to increase our understanding of language usage in

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Guinea is the Forest Region. Possibly the biggest hole in my research is the lack of first- hand data from this region. The Forest Region is unique in Guinea because it does not have one dominant language group. Examining situations similar to those observed in other regions should reveal interesting contrasts between this region and the other regions.

Another area needing further study is the questions from Einer Haugan’s “The

Ecology of Language” (see Appendix B). This study examines questions 2, 3, and 4 through personal research, and some of the other questions are briefly addressed through library research. However, further research is needed to satisfactorily answer the remaining questions. Some of the questions could be answered through further observation, such as determining the status of writing systems in the various languages

(questions 7 and 8) or the attitudes of the speakers (question 9). A survey might also be useful for question 9; however, the data would need to be corroborated through observation. Other questions would require more knowledge before even starting the study, such as examining the internal varieties of the languages (question 5), which would require knowledge of the language being studied. The answers to all ten of these questions are needed to more fully understand language usage in Guinea.

Finally, similar studies should continue to be carried out in other linguistically complex countries. The methods for conducting such studies should be tailored around the languages and cultures of the given country. Each one will have different situations that are relevant to understanding the language usage in that country. A comparison of such studies could then reveal some general principles of language usage that could help governments devise more successful language policies. In today’s world, urbanization 64 and globalization are facts of life. As speakers of different languages meet and interact, ensuring communication becomes an issue that cannot be ignored. By examining how this issue is resolved in smaller communities where it has existed for centuries, we can learn ways to peacefully communicate without losing our linguistic heritage. APPENDIX A FIELD NOTES

Conakry (capital of Guinea) Airport All signs in French French spoken to us but not among the natives One man spoke English to us Marketplace All signs in French Susu usually spoken among natives French spoken initially to us Susu spoken with American when she started conversation in Susu Sometimes members of other tribes refuse to speak Susu Builders at C&MA compound 2 Sierra Leonians, 2 Susu, 1 Pullo, 4 Americans Natives use French and Susu among themselves Worship song in Susu, French, and a little English Devotion by Americans translated into Susu Fulջe women at the post office Spoke to us in French initially Tried to say something to me in Susu in mid-conversation Responded to American in Susu but reacted more favorably when he spoke in Pular Fulջe family Speak Pular to each other Elderly woman speaks only Pular, but young girl speaks (and reads) French as well Kissi man and Toma woman at C&MA compound Use Maninka together, though both also speak French Kissi man and American who spent time in Kankan Conversed in Maninka Man in Conakry airport Addressed us in French, but addressed an African (who does not speak Susu) in Susu Maninka wood carvers Used Maninka amongst themselves (and a little with me), French with us One could speak a little English Wood carvers (other) Almost all could at least function in French Many spoke English, including a Sierra Leonian refugee Church in Conakry (mostly forestière) Sermon/Announcements in French translated into Susu or Maninka Service conducted in French

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Songs in various languages: French, Maninka, Kissi, Toma... Sometimes older women from the same language group will sit together and have the sermon translated to them in their native language Coyeya (village) Everyone used Susu

Kankan (city) Music Youth listen to music in Maninka, Pular, and Susu, even if they do not understand Maninka singer sings in all three languages Old school friends Men code switch between Maninka and French Used to speaking to each other in French during school Need to keep up French to find a job Language used depends on subject Maninka used with personal matters like talking about family French used when talking about work Some technical terms used when talking about work do not even exist in Maninka School-aged girls speak Maninka with each other and only use French when speaking directly to me World Cup soccer Broadcast in theater and over radio in French Kankan “mall” Everyone addressed us in French but did speak Maninka to an American Wood carver Addressed us in English/Maninka (recognized American) Does not understand French Many wood carvers worked in English-speaking Liberia because there was a much larger tourist industry there until the civil war broke out Mosque Call to prayer and public prayers in Arabic but sometimes public preaching is in Maninka Prison Director addressed us only in French, including when he spoke privately to a Maninka man Regional director was able to address us in broken English but clearly preferred French Prisoners addressed in Maninka Marketplace Most vendors do not speak French, but all can understand key market words like “Combien?” and can count in French Streets of Kankan Everyone (including the children) know French greetings (bonjour, bonsoir, ça va?) Some people greet Joe (a light-skinned African-American) in Pular (or even Arabic) Fulջe people are lighter skinned All signs have at least French, some also have Arabic and Maninka (using N’ko) 67

Attitude People laugh joyfully at my attempts to speak their language and try to get me to say more Kourala (village) Maninka used with French words mixed in where a Maninka word would not exist Etats-Unis, la Guinée, la Bible, linguistique, and telling time One man used very broken English with American for a private matter He did not want the others to understand

Labé Marketplace French heard on TV American addressed in Pular French was used only was the natives discovered that that was all I could speak Very few women could speak French Hausa from Nigeria (immigrated 15 years ago) Speak Hausa together but Pular in the marketplace Maninka men Use Maninka together but Pular with the Fulջe Greeted American in Susu (knew she used to work among them) Susu men from Conakry Used Susu together and did not speak Pular Were only in Labé for a temporary job and would return to Conakry soon American home Kissi gardener and Pullo guard use Pular even though both speak French Houseworkers are willing to used French at first but gladly change to Pular as the Americans learn the language better Functionaires Most likely to be highly educated and to live among a language group other than their own Tend to stick with French if they can Mamou (small town) Street merchants address us in French Gas station attendants were able to respond a little in Maninka but only one was a Maninka Woman selling bananas could not understand Maninka APPENDIX B EINAR HAUGEN’S 10 QUESTIONS

For any given “language” we should want to have answers to the following ecological questions:

1. What is its classification in relation to other languages? This answer would be given by historical and descriptive linguists.

2. Who are its users? This is a question of linguistic demography, locating its users with respect to locale, class, religion, or any other relevant grouping.

3. What are its domains of use? This is a question of sociolinguistics, discovering whether its use is unrestricted or limited in specific ways.

4. What concurrent languages are employed by its users? We may call this a problem of dialinguistics, to identify the degree of bilingualism present and the degree of overlap among the languages.

5. What internal varieties does the language show? This is the task of a dialectology that will recognize not only regional, but also social and contactual dialects.

6. What is the nature of its written traditions? This is the province of philology, the study of written texts and their relation to speech.

7. To what degree has its written form been standardized, i.e., unified and codified? This is the province of prescriptive linguistics, the traditional grammarians and lexicographers.

8. What kind of institutional support has it won, either in government, education, or private organizations, wither to regulate its form or propagate it? We may call the study glottopolitics.

9. What are the attitudes of its users toward the language, in terms of intimacy and status, leading to personal identification? We may call this the field of ethnolinguistics.

10. Finally, we may sum up its status in a typology of ecological classification, which will tell us something about where the language stands and where it is going in comparison with the other languages of the world.

Haugen, Einar. (1971) “The Ecology of Language.” The Linguistic Reporter 13(1). Pp 19-26.

68 REFERENCE LIST

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Andersson, Lars-Gunnar and Tore Janson. (1997) Languages in Botswana: Language Ecology in Southern Africa. Gaborone, Botswana: Longbottom Botswana.

Bah, Tierno Siradiou. (1987) Language Policy and National Integration: the Guinean Case. Paper presented at the 30th annual meeting of the African Studies Association. Denver, Co.

Bird, Charles and Timothy Shopen. (1979) “Maninka.” In Languages and Their Speakers. Timothy Shopen, ed. Cambridge, Massachusets: Winthrop Publishers, Inc. pp. 59-111.

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Diallo, Abdourahmane. (2000) Grammaire Descriptive du Pular du Fuuta Jaloo (Guinée). Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang.

Drame, Mallafe. (1981) Aspects of Mandingo Grammar. Ann Arbor, MI: University Microfilms International.

Ferguson, Charles A. (1996) “Diglossia.” In Sociolinguistic Perspectives: Papers on Language in Society, 1959-1994. Thom Huebner, ed. New York: Oxford University Press. Originally published in 1959.

Haugen, Einar. (1971) “The Ecology of Language.” The Linguistic Reporter 13(1). Pp 19-26.

Houis, Maurice. (1963) Etude Descriptive de la Langue Susu. Ifan-Dakar: Mémoires de l’Institut Français d’Afrique Noire 67.

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Houis, Maurice. (1953) La Guinée Française. Editions Maritimes et Coloniales.

Latham, Norah. (1959) A Sketch-Map . London: Hulton Educational Publications.

McLaughlin, Fiona. (1995) “Haalpulaar Identity as a Response to Wolofization.” African Languages and Cultures. 8(2). pp153-168.

Osae, T.A., S.N. Nwabara, and A.T.O. Odunsi. (1973) A Short History of West Africa: A.D. 1000 to the Present. New York: Hill and Wang.

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Swigart, Leigh. (1992) Practice and Perception: Language Use and Attitudes in Dakar. Ann Arbor, MI: UMI.

Touré, Ahmed Sekou. (1967) L’Afrique en Marche. Republic of Guinea.

Wardhaugh, Ronald. (1987) Languages in Competition: Dominance, Diversity, and Decline. Oxford: Basil Blackwell Ltd.

Wa Thiong’o, Ngugi. (1986) Decolonising the Mind: The Politics of Language in African Literature. London: James Curry Ld.

Williamson, Kay and Roger Blench. (2002) “Niger-Congo.” In African Languages: An Introduction. Bernd Heine and Derek Nurse, ed. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 11-42.

Wolff, H. Ekkehard. (2002) “Language and society.” In African Languages: An Introduction. Bernd Heine and Derek Nurse, ed. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 298-343. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH

Samantha Anne Mero was born in 1978 in Oxford, England. Her childhood was spent moving around England and the United States as the daughter of an officer in the

United States Air Force. In 1997, she graduated from Lewis Palmer High School in

Monument, Colorado. Having studied French for six years, she decided to pursue a degree in French at the University of Florida with the aim of becoming a translator.

During the spring semester of 1999, she studied in Nantes, France; and, in May 2000, she received her bachelor’s degree.

During the next year, she learned of Pioneer Bible Translators, an organization that does literacy and translation work in several countries all over the world. With a desire to one day join this organization, she decided to pursue a master’s degree in

Linguistics. She was accepted into the Linguistics program at the University of Florida beginning in the fall of 2001. As a graduate student, she taught courses in French and

Scholarly Writing. During the summer of 2002, she participated in an internship with

Pioneer Bible Translators. She traveled to the Republic of Guinea in West Africa, where she helped in both literacy and translation work.

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