VU Research Portal

The Creative Use of Genre Features Continuity and Change in Patterns of Language Use in Budu, a Bantu Language of Congo () Frieke-Kappers, C.

2007

document version Publisher's PDF, also known as Version of record

Link to publication in VU Research Portal

citation for published version (APA) Frieke-Kappers, C. (2007). The Creative Use of Genre Features Continuity and Change in Patterns of Language Use in Budu, a Bantu Language of Congo (Kinshasa).

General rights Copyright and moral rights for the publications made accessible in the public portal are retained by the authors and/or other copyright owners and it is a condition of accessing publications that users recognise and abide by the legal requirements associated with these rights.

• Users may download and print one copy of any publication from the public portal for the purpose of private study or research. • You may not further distribute the material or use it for any profit-making activity or commercial gain • You may freely distribute the URL identifying the publication in the public portal ?

Take down policy If you believe that this document breaches copyright please contact us providing details, and we will remove access to the work immediately and investigate your claim.

E-mail address: [email protected]

Download date: 02. Oct. 2021 VRIJE UNIVERSITEIT

The Creative Use of Genre Features Continuity and Change in Patterns of Language Use in Budu, a Bantu Language of Congo (Kinshasa)

ACADEMISCH PROEFSCHRIFT

ter verkrijging van de graad Doctor aan de Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam, op gezag van de rector magnificus prof.dr. L.M. Bouter, in het openbaar te verdedigen ten overstaan van de promotiecommissie van de faculteit der Letteren op dinsdag 6 november 2007 om 15.45 uur in de aula van de universiteit, De Boelelaan 1105

door Claertje Frieke-Kappers

geboren te Loenen aan de Vecht promotor: prof. dr. L.J. de Vries copromotoren : dr. E. Wattel prof. dr. G.J. Steen Acknowledgements in loving memory of abhaa Gotha Aumani

This dissertation would not have come to fruition without the team of Budu poets, musicians, writers, teachers, nurses, builders, cooks, cleaners, sweepers, administrators, technicians (radio- and ICT-), pilots, bookkeepers, and all who contributed to the production of Budu literacy materials. Even though I did not think of writing a doctoral dissertation until years after we had worked together, these people are to be included in this symbolic first paragraph of my acknowledgements: here I praise the One who made us in His own image, enabling us to use our minds creatively, and I praise you who work together to produce texts of all kinds in Budu. I want to thank my neighbours1 for their feedback in 1997 while I was studying about thirty texts in Ibambi. Often their remarks shed new light on the use of some elements in the texts which escaped my attention. Thanks also to translators-in-training Abhaa Bayaka, Abhaa Nangaa and Abhaa Fomuno for their in-depth analysis of four stories in 1995, as well as to Gotha Aumani, director of the Budu project at that time, and to Abhaa Awilikilango who, in 2002, worked through some texts with me at a seminar on discourse analysis. Also artist and Anglicist Willy Bambinesenge was of invaluable help glossing texts. His creative writings in Budu provided great insights into the dynamics of language use. Both the files which my husband Fred C. Frieke produced (while working on Budu orthography in 1995 and 1996, and on the Luke manuscript in 1998 and 1999) and the remarks of SIL colleague Bettina Gottschlich, who chats in Budu as if it were her mother-tongue German, helped me. I would like to thank Bettina for her willingness to let me use her text- and music-recordings and for her hospitality in 2005, when I returned to Ibambi to check my data with François Abati. I am equally grateful to Jany Maters from Woudrichem, who copied 45 cassettes with Budu recordings for me. Several times in this dissertation the names of Budu translators François Abati, Theofile Anzetaka, transcriber-typist Ingoi Bakunguo, as well as the names of linguists Constance Kutsch Lojenga, Paul Thomas, Gert and Alida de Wit and Fred Frieke occur where I refer to their work. Their insights obviously arose from their love of linguistic analysis. Also Loren Koehler and Tim Raymond should be mentioned. Loren Koehler helped me with the Budu fonts and shared his digital dictionary of Budu, while Tim Raymond shared his insights into Bhele morphology, a related Bantu language. At an international conference in Kenya in 2000, I became aware of the uniqueness of the abundance of tape-recorded and transcribed texts that the Budu team had collected between 1987 and 1996 with the help of Bettina Gottschlich. This material opened up for me the possibility of researching natural Budu texts. Dr. Margaret Jepkiru Muthwii and others encouraged me in my subsequent investigation of natural language. I felt priviledged by the warm welcome I received at the Vrije Universiteit where I started my research in March 2002, many years after doing the Doctoraal Opleiding Bijbelvertalers, a track that is organised in partnership with the Netherlands Bible Society. Without the encouragement of Prof. Dr. Piet van Reenen I would not have committed myself to doing PhD research. Also towards the end, I would not have dared to bring this book to the printer without his scrutiny in proofreading the tables. In 2001, I found Prof. Dr. Lourens de Vries, professor of General Linguistics and professor of Bible Translation at the Vrije Universiteit in Amsterdam, willing to supervise me on this research topic. His own work triggered off the beginning of my research. Also in personal encounters he was always willing to share his ideas about genre and their implication for the study of language. I am grateful for his special sense of humour that helped me through tough times when I found myself struggling to achieve a clear presentation. Co-promotor mathematician Dr. Evert Wattel of the same University, Faculty of Exact Sciences, developed the software for the corpus linguistic research, patiently integrating what I expected from his software design. Dr. Gerard Steen of the English Department at the Vrije Universiteit

1 Abhaa Bambu, Abhaa Sadeyna, Enaa Jabaa, Enaa Nato and Abhaa Bayaka, Abhaa Polo, Ngbengusi, Ma Joli, Ma Thelesi, Ma Rutha and Elisa, Benjamin Adombi, Suza, Theres, Noel, Pierro and Abhaa Ejeo and Ma Catho.

had worked on Biber’s theoretical framework (Steen 2003) and was so kind as to offer to supervise the corpus linguistic aspects. As my second co-promotor, he surprised me by his concise and in-depth questions which set me thinking for at least a month, always helping me to proceed in better ways.Thank you, all three, for your confidence in me. I wish to express my appreciation for the meetings of the Vrije Universtiteit Work Group on the Architecture of Human Language with Dr. Petra Bos, Dr. Wilbert Spooren, Prof. Dr. Geert Booij, Dr. Wilco van den Heuvel, Prof. Dr. Mike Hannay and Dr. Janet Dyk. The comments of Dr. Wilbert Spooren, in particular, were important for the development of my own thinking. Prof. Dr. Thilo Schadeberg, Prof. Dr. Maarten Mous and Dr. Felix Ameka of Leiden University are to be mentioned for the valuable remarks they made in reaction to some papers that I gave. Dr. Ameka, in particular, stirred my thoughts with his original remarks about language use. Prof. Dr. Maarten Mous was very welcoming and the Leiden Friday Afternoon Lectures on Descriptive Linguistics were certainly an inspiration to me on the few occasions I was able to be present. The Bantu Discourse Work-Group of SIL, whose 2005 meetings in Kenya I was able to attend with the financial help of Wycliffe Bible Translators (Europe Area Group), was an inspiration. Their comments on my ideas, especially those of Dr. Stephen H. Levinsohn, Dr. Helen Keaton and Dr. Steve Nicolle, were helpful. I am grateful to The Catharine van Tussenbroek Foundation that provided the money to extend this trip to include a visit to Ibambi to check my data. Proofreaders ready to work through my elaborate explanations of statistics proved to be of a very rare kind. I was fortunate to have two volunteers, whose attempts to repair some of the damage which I did to their language helped me tremendously. Mathematician Peter Stratfold and linguist Alison Nicolle helped me, for instance, even in between house-painting or scuba-diving and literacy workshops. I would also like to recognize the gracious help of Martien Kappers, Douglas Boone, Liz Raymond and Beth Koehler who read through some first-draft materials for me while still maintaining a warm friendship with helpful suggestions. Cindi Hampshire hand-carried heavy books for me from Africa to Europe while traveling with her children, and Helma Rem carried 45 cassette tapes for me in her hand luggage. Your efforts were greatly appreciated. Thanks to Bagamba Araali, now PhD, and to Jill Brace, and to several other friends,2 (if I may still use that word), for their peer support, despite my increasingly infrequent responses to their mail as the final draft neared completion. Without my children Vera and Tim I would certainly have lost my balance. Somehow they managed to keep alternating between teasing me with grotesque 40-word utterances and making me forget all about patterns of language use and focus on the patterns of meals and laundry and dentist visits. Thank you for the fun we were able to have despite my rather monotonous time-table. I thank “Bonne Maman” Martien for her 5-years supply of jam (from the orchard mentioned in the Foreword), mother-in-law Carla van der Wijngaard and mother Ankie Brink for their practical help in mending torn trousers and sheets, sewing pillow cases and whitewashing walls. I feel particularly grateful for the ‘room with a view’ which Martien and Frits helped me realise in our attic. It provided more than a physical place to withdraw. Without such helpful parents it would have been impossible to concentrate on my research. On top of that, my father Jeroen Kappers always jokingly encouraged me to express myself more clearly (if I was ever going to honour my name in Dutch (‘clarity’). Finally I would like to thank my dearest friend Fred. I thank him for taking care of Vera and Tim during my three trips to Africa. I was even more fortunate in that he endured living with an absent- minded partner, confident in the hope that this would not be for ever. Without your decision to keep surrounding me with your relaxed, steady love, I would never have made it.

2 Joukje, Liesbeth, Katrien, Sebastiaan, Marleen, Han, Anneke, Ewoud, Benita, Sijtze, Hubert, Mitzy, Peter, Nelie, Geert, Mariëtte, Kuinira, Gerda, Henrico, Henk, Elly, Adri, Roelof, Remke, Tim, Liz, Margriet, Bernard, Sjaak, Eline, Leo, Rina, Diet.

Contents

Acknowledgements Contents Foreword List of Abbreviations Maps

Chapter 1. Creative Use of Genre Features, Introduction 1 1.0 Introduction 1.1 Text Organisation 1.2 Relevance for the Notion of ‘Naturalness’ 1.3 A Multidimensional Analysis of Language-use Variation 1.4 Language Use and Creativity 1.5 Genre Theory and Creative Innovations 1.6 Cognition and Creativity 1.7 Research Question 1.8 Conclusion

Chapter 2. The Community of Budu Speakers 35 2.0 Introduction 2.1 Political Isolation and Economic Independence 2.2 External Threats 2.3 Literacy Development 2.4 Divergency in Budu Society 2.5 Conclusion Appendix 2.A: Indications of Acculturation in Congo

Chapter 3. Elements of Language use: a Sketch of Budu 53 3.0 Introduction 3.1 Organisation of this Chapter 3.2 Limitations of the present Analysis 3.3 Lexical Properties 3.3.1 Interaction with Neighbouring Language Groups 3.3.2 Main varieties of Budu and its Dialects 3.3.3 Relation to other Bira-Huku Bantu-D Language 3.3.4 Lexical Similarity to Other Languages 3.3.5 Proto-Bantu Vocabulary and Budu 3.3.6 Loanwords from Languages of Wider Communication 3.3.6.1 Loanwords from French 3.3.6.2 Loanwords from 3.3.6.3 Loanwords from Swahili 3.3.7 Phonological Similarities to Other Languages 3.4 Noun Phrase Morphology 3.4.1 Noun-Class Pairs used for Singular and Plural 3.4.2 Agreement in the Noun Phrase 3.4.3 Verbal Subject Prefixes 3.4.4 Verbal Object Prefixes 3.4.5 Personal Pronouns 3.4.5.1 Pronouns 3.4.5.2 Polite vocatives 3.4.6 Associative Constructions 3.4.6.1 Numerals 3.4.6.2 Prepositions 3.4.6.3 Functional Adjectives 3.4.6.4 Syntactic Adjectives

3.4.6.5 Person Anaphora and Quantifiers 3.5 Verb Phrase Morphology 3.5.1 Verb Derivation 3.5.1.1 The Applicative Extension 3.5.1.2 The Reciprocal Extension 3.5.1.3 The Repetitive/ Intensive Extension 3.5.1.4 The Passsive Extension 3.5.1.5 The Causative Extension 3.5.2 Verb Inflection 3.5.1.0 Introduction and Overview 3.5.2.1 Syntactical Expressions of Tense, Aspect and Mood (TAM) 3.5.2.2 Perfect Narrative Past 3.5.2.3 Historic-Present Perfect 3.5.2.4 Progressive Aspect 3.5.2.5 Perfect Aspect 3.5.2.6 Imperfect Aspect 3.5.2.7 Habitual Aspect 3.5.2.8 Habitual Narrative Tense 3.5.2.9 Syntactical and Lexical Future 3.5.2.10 Summary of the Main TAM Distinctions 3.5.2.11 Mood 3.5.2.11.1 Conditionals 3.5.2.11.2 Optative or Irreal Mood 3.5.2.11.3 Negative Mood 3.5.3 Adverbial Tense, Mood and Aspect Marking 3.5.3.1 Phonologically Stable Morphemes in the Inflected Verb 3.5.3.2 Relative Phrase Markers 3.5.3.3 Adverbial Clitics for TAM marking 3.6 Conclusion about Budu Elements of Language Use Appendix 3.A Phonological Consonant Chart and Orthographic Conventions

Chapter 4. Relations between Genre and the Use of Linguistic Forms 123 4.0 Introduction 4.1 Genre Labels and their Main Groupings 4.2 Tagging Texts of the Researched Corpus 4.2.1 Pronouns 4.2.2 Noun Phrase Morphology 4.2.3 Verb Phrase 4.2.4 Mood 4.2.5 Aspect 4.2.6 Subordination 4.2.7 Reported Speech 4.2.8 Coordination 4.2.9 Emphasis 4.3 StatisticalTools 4.4 Conclusion Appendix 4.A Direct and Indirect Speech Appendix 4.B A Manual Method to Compare Forms with a Shared Distribution

Chapter 5. Conventional Language Use in the Main Genres 149 5.0 Introduction 5.1 Description of Research Results 5.1.1 Data Discussion 5.1.1.1 Personal Pronouns 5.1.1.2 Verbal Prefixes 5.1.1.3 Adverbs and Adverbial Morphemes 5.1.1.4 Reported Speech 5.1.1.5 Lexical Density 5.1.1.6 Mood

5.1.1.7 Aspect 5.1.1.8 Noun Phrase Morphology 5.1.1.9 Connectives 5.1.1.10 Cohesive Devices 5.1.1.11 Attention-getting Devices 5.1.2 Conclusions about Obtained Correlation Matrix with Results 5.2 Discussion of Research Results: Clusters of Co-occurrence in Language Use 5.2.1 Budu First Dimension: Presentation of Events 5.2.1.1. Overview of Distinctive Features of the First Dimension 5.2.1.2 Role First-Dimension Features 5.2.1.3 Conclusion about the First Dimension 5.2.2 Budu Second Dimension: Expression of Information 5.2.2.1. Overview of Distinctive Features of the Second Dimension 5.2.2.2 Role Second-Dimension Features 5.2.2.3 Conclusion about the Second Dimension 5.2.3 Budu Third Dimension: Directive Communication 5.2.3.1. Overview of Distinctive Features 5.2.3.2 Role Third-Dimension Features 5.2.3.3 Conclusion about the Third Dimension 5.2.4 Budu Fourth Dimension: Community Involvement 5.2.4.1. Overview of Distinctive Features of the Fourth Dimension 5.2.4.2 Role Fourth-Dimension Features 5.2.4.3 Conclusion about the Fourth dimension 5.2.5 Budu Fifth Dimension: Production 5.2.5.1. Overview of the Distinctive Features 5.2.5.2 Role Fifth-Dimension Features 5.2.5.3 Conclusion about the Fifth dimension 5.2.6 Budu Sixth Dimension: Performative Usage of Budu 5.2.6.1. Overview of Distinctinctive Features 5.2.6.2 Role Sixth-Dimension Features 5.2.6.3 Conclusion about the Sixth Dimension 5.3 Co-occurrence and its Operation as Distinction of Communication 5.4 Conclusion about Conventional Language Use Appendix 5.A: Overview of Distinctive Features of Communication Determining Language Use Variation Appendix 5.B: Reported Speech and its Structuring Function in a Budu Presentation of Events Appendix 5.C: Modal Connectives as Typical Budu Reference to Shared Knowledge Appendix 5.D: Ideophones and their Budu Usage for Emphasis in Community-Involved Expressions Appendix 5.E: Idiomatic Expressions as Solidarity-markers in Performative Usage of Budu Appendix 5.F: Correlation Matrix in Four Digits

Chapter 6. Conventional Language Use in Embedded Genres 217 6.0 Introduction 6.1 Language in Embedded Genres and Separate Nature of its Usage 6.2 Data Discussion for the Results of Embedded Genres 6.2.1 Genre Markers for Embedded Genres 6.2.2 Distinctive Features of Various Embedded Genres 6.2.3 Interpretation of Results for the Mini-corpus 6.2.4 Excerpt from a Genealogical Interview Embedded in Cultural Documentation 6.2.5 A Separate Dimension of Comunication in Embeddings 6.2.6 Excerpt from an Embedded Guarantee 6.2.7 Forms Common to all the Embedded Genres 6.2.8 Forms that Differentiate between Language-Use in Main and in Embedded Genres 6.3 Conclusion about Conventional Language Use in Embedded Genres Appendix 6.A: Overview Cluster Distinguishing Embedded Genres Appendix 6.B: Genre Markers and Distinctions Embedded Genres

Chapter 7. Six Main Parameters of Language Use in Budu 245 7.0 Introduction 7.1.1 General Remarks about Communicative Dimensions of Variation in Language Use 7.1.2 The Variables 7.2 Parameters of Budu Language use 7.2.1. Temporally-Connective vs. Non-Temporally-Connective Presentation of Events 7.2.1.1 Further Interpretation of the First Dimension of Variation 7.2.1.2 The Continuum of Temporally-Connective Presentation 7.2.1.3 Text Excerpts with Non-Temporally Connective Event Presentation in Drama 7.2.1.4 Contrastive Analysis of Two Distinguished Sets of Genres 7.2.1.5 Text Excerpt with Non-Temporally Connective Event Presentation in Proverbs 7.2.1.5 Differences among Genres within One Set 7.2.1.6 Entire Pact Story with Temporally-Connective Presentation 7.2.1.7 Conclusion about the Presentation of Events in Budu 7.2.2 Explicit Expression of Information vs. Implicit Expression of Information 7.2.2.1 The Continuum of Information 7.2.2.2 The Contrast between Explicit and Implicit information 7.2.2.3 Text Excerpt with Implicit Information in a Trickster Story 7.2.2.4 Text Excerpt with Explicit Information in a Work Order 7.2.2.5 Text Excerpts with Explicit Information in Literacy Lessons 7.2.2.6 Text Excerpt with Explicit Information in Medical Information 7.2.2.7 Conclusion about the Expression of Information in Budu 7.2.3 Directive vs. Non-Directive Communication 7.2.3.1 The Continuum of Directive Communication 7.2.3.2 Text Excerpts with Non-directive Communication in a Life Story 7.2.3.3 Two Contrasted Sets of Distinguished Genres 7.2.3.4 Contrastive Analysis of Two Distinguished Sets of Genres 7.2.3.5 Text Excerpt with Directive Communication in a Party Song 7.2.3.6 Text Excerpt with Directive Communication in a Prayer 7.2.3.7 Text Excerpt with Directive Communication in a Recipe 7.2.3.8 Conclusion about Directive Communication in Budu 7.2.4 Community-involved Language Use vs. Language Use without Community Involvement 7.2.4.1 Two Distinguished Sets of Genres 7.2.4.2 Contrastive Analysis of Two Distinguished Sets of Genres 7.2.4.3 Text Excerpt with Community Involvement in Cultural Documentation 7.2.4.4 Text Excerpts with Community Involvement in Church Songs 7.2.4.5 Text Excerpt with Community Involvement in embedded Agreements 7.2.4.6 The Continuum of Community Involvement 7.2.4.7 Text Excerpts with Community Involvement in Animal Stories 7.2.4.8 Conclusion about Community Involvement in Budu Expressions 7.2.5 Spontaneous Production versus Prepared Production 7.2.5.1 Two Constrasted Sets of Genres 7.2.5.2 A Contrastive Analysis of Two Distinguished Sets of Genres 7.2.5.3 Text Excerpts from Ghost Stories with Spontaneous Production 7.2.5.4 The Continuum of Text Production 7.2.5.5 Text Excerpt with Spontaneous Production in Lullabies 7.2.5.6 Text Excerpt with Spontaneous Production in Riddles 7.2.5.7 Conclusion about Budu Text Production 7.2.6 Performative vs. Constative Language Use 7.2.6.1 The Continuum of Performative Language Use 7.2.6.2 Two Constrasted Sets of Genres 7.2.6.3 Text Excerpts with Performative Language Use in Church Songs 7.2.6.4 Text Excerpt with Performative Language Use in Mourning Songs 7.2.6.5 Text Excerpt with Performative Language Use in Circumcision Songs 7.2.6.6 Text Excerpt with Performative Language Use in a Decree 7.2.6.7 A Contrastive Analysis of Two Distinguished Sets of Genres 7.2.6.8 Text Excerpt with Non-Performative Speech in Drama 7.2.6.9 Text Excerpt with Non-Performative Speech in Travel Instructions 7.2.6.10 Text Excerpt with Performative Speech in Pastoral (Travel) Instructions

7.2.6.11 Conclusion about Performative Language Use in Budu 7.3 Conventional Language Use in Sixteen Budu Text Types 7.3.1 Overview of Dimensions Reflected in Sixteen Text Types 7.3.2 Genre Features and their Use in Each of the Text Types 7.3.2 Conclusion about Sixteen Text Types in Budu 7.4 Conclusion about Distinctions in Conventional Usage of Budu Appendix 7.A: Background Information about Genres Mentioned in ‘Public Meeting’ Text Bhasa

Chapter 8. The Creative Use of Genre Features 349 8.0 Introduction 8.1 Background Information 8.1.1 Health as a Concept of General Well-being 8.1.2 A Historical Affinity of the Budu with Medical Services 8.2 A Text about Malnutrition 8.2.0 Explicit Information about Symptoms of Malnutrition 8.2.1 An Embedded Case history and its Temporally-Connective Presentation of Events 8.2.2 Reported Speech 8.2.2.1 Description of Three Cycles of Reported Speech in this Malnutrition Text 8.2.2.2 An Interpretation of Three Cycles of Reported Speech in this Malnutrition Text 8.2.2.3 Discussion of Three Cycles of Reported Speech in this Malnutrition Text 8.2.3 Allusions to Directive-Performative Communication in this Malnutrition Text 8.2.4 Conclusion about Creatively Used Genre Features in this Malnutrition Text 8.3 Introduction to a Text about Dysentery 8.3.1 Performative Language in this Dysentery Text 8.3.1.1 Use of Ideophones in this Dysentery Text 8.3.1.2 Oath Formula in Opening Dysentery Text 8.3.2 An Embedded Case History and its Temporally-Connective Presentation of Events 8.3.2.1 Description of Six Cycles of Reported Speech 8.3.2.2 Interpretation of these Six Cycles of Reported Speech 8.3.2.3 Discussion of these Six Cycles of Reported Speech 8.3.3 More Usage of Performative Language in the discuseed Dysentery Text 8.4 The Use of Innovative Language in both Medical Texts 8.5 An Analysis of Creative Language in both Texts 8.6 Conclusion Appendix 8.A: with a Glossed Budu Text about Malnutrition Appendix 8.B: with a Glossed Budu Text about Dysentery Appendix 8.C: with a Translated Budu Moral Advice

Chapter 9. Conclusion and Summary 411 9.0 Introduction 9.1 Conclusions 9.1.1 Continuation 9.1.2 Change 9.1.2.1 Operational Change 9.1.2.2 Manipulation 9.1.3 Indigenous Factors for Change 9.1.4 Viability 9.1.5 Future Research into Natural Language 9.2 Summary

Bibliography 429

Foreword “The researcher [outsider] usually arives with a set of asumptions, conscious and unconscious, that shapes both what that person sees and is capable of seeing.” Patrick Kagbeni Muana 1998:51

As a child, I once woke up during a warm summer night. As I stumbled through the darkness, I touched the wall, expecting to find the door's handle. On our annual six weeks holiday in the family caravan, I could usually find my way outside, through the dark, into my grandfather's orchard. This time I could not find the door handle. Instead I found myself looking through a key hole. I could perceive something bright and orange. It took me a while to realise what I was looking at. What I had taken to be an unidentifiable object in the apple-orchard outside, turned out to be a street lantern. It slowly dawned upon me that the summer holidays were over. I was back home and this street lantern was fifteen meters below me on street level. I could see it through a familiar crack in my bedroom wall, I subsequently realised. There was no keyhole. This little anecdote may serve to illustrate the importance of mental creativity on perception, more especially the perception of prototypes. I saw an orange object. But since I thought that I was looking through a keyhole into an orchard, no relevant prototype crossed my mind, to recognise the object for what it was: a brightly-lit street lantern. The crack in the wall, however, did fit in: it was perceived as a keyhole. Its tiny form apparently triggered off a 'suitable' mental image, fitting the overall context. It also illustrates the impression a ‘foreign’ context may leave on the mind. I looked at an orange object since, having been away for the entire summer, I in fact was a ‘foreigner’ to my own street and could not ‘see’ the street lantern. In ethnology and anthropology such interplay between creativity and cultural prototypes has been a prominent topic of discussion. Especially in discussions about the reaction of indigenous cultures to foreign cultures in the process of globalisation the notion of 'framing' and 'reframing' as introduced by Bakthin (translated in English (1981;1986) proved to be a fruitful one (for example the panel discussion on the dynamics of social change led by Danielle de Lame in 2004 at the School of African and Oriental Studies in London). Not so in linguistics however, where the greater part of technical studies of language shy away from issues of mental creativity; probably because of the scarcity of empirical evidence. Exceptions here are publications such as Lakoff and Turner (1989), Lakoff and Johnson (1999), Turner (1991), Sweetser (1990), and Gibbs (1994; 1999), in which “data have been examined along mainly formalist lines and, crucially, researchers have not paid systematic attention to the contextual conditions of its production,” as Carter and McCarthy (2003:65) comment (references in opus cit.), whereas more functionally oriented linguists avoid formalist definitions of linguistic creativity. In my view, however, the concept of creativity is vital to the study of language development. It will therefore be the main focus of my book, and I hope to provide ample empirical evidence to support that view. Such an unusual departure from common linguistic practice demands an explanation. My interest in the analysis of the linguistic process of creativity was first raised when I was confronted with various practical linguistic problems during my stay in the Democratic Republic of Congo between 1993 and 1998. In 1994, my husband and myself were invited by the Congolese Church to come over with our family in order to participate as linguists in the Budu Bible translation project. We subsequently became involved in the training of translators in several languages of Northeastern Congo. Working with SIL-International, we made use of a French course book on translation principles by Barnwell (1990). In this manual naturalness was recommended as one of the three most important criteria for good translations. Between 1995 and 2000 I was part of an Ibambi- based team consisting of mainly Budu speakers. We developed an orthography for Budu that was

approved by representatives of the community in May 1996. From 1998, our German SIL-colleague in Ibambi, Bettina Gottschlich, worked on the area's literacy development helping Budu writers with the preparation of their first booklets. In that context I worked with a team of over twelve Budu speakers on the analysis and transcription of various texts that had been tape-recorded by a Budu language committee from 1987. But when in 1998 a war destabilised the country, our family was evacuated from Congo and we had to continue work from Kenya. In the course of that team work in Ibambi I had started to observe a dilemma. As translators aim for authentic language use, they cannot escape the necessity of a somewhat creative use of linguistic elements in order to guarantee a natural translation. This also applies to pioneering writers, who need the same creativity for newly developed genres such as cultural documentation and medical information. In contrast to the success of the Red Cross medical-training of Budu workers in Northeastern Congo in the 1930s, where oral genres developed even to a further extent in order to transmit new information, higher education seems to make most Budu speakers hesitant in the creative use of language. Model literate genres presented to them in francophone institutes are replicated, whereas workshops on creative writing by SIL, seem to make speakers abide by fixed patterns of language use as observed in authentic Budu genres. The dilemma which I observed was that Budu speakers seemed successful in the creative use of language for the development of new genres in medical care and church organisation, while some attempts to produce natural language in translation and written medical information seemed to result in far less natural texts. Becoming more and more convinced of the complexity of this problem, I set my aim, in the end, at a contribution to the discussion about ‘naturalness’ of texts in the form of a well documented research work without any a priori ideas about particular factors of language-use variations in newly developed genres. It has resulted in a, perhaps indeed documented, but because of the great many excerpts it contains, also a very lengthy dissertation. Hopefully these introductory words may help interested readers to find their way through its pages. I have attempted to describe empirically observed co-occurrences of linguistic forms. In particular in chapter 7 the patterns I have traced are illustrated in text excerpts and have been analysed with reference to the culture and the history of the Budu people (introduced in chapter 2). In chapter 4, a description of the methodology with its statistics has been included to verify claims I make about various relevant data. In the chapters 5 and 6 I explain my method step by step by means of multiple tables, each focusing on a new aspect. This stepwise presentation is rather lengthy and may, therefore, be discouraging to most readers. Readers not interested in statistics can skip over the methodology in the chapters 4 to 6. Readers not familiar with Bantu linguistics may want to skip over the linguistic sketch in chapter 3. But please do not skip over my central message that is presented in chapter 8: that linguistic creativity, as an indispensable factor in the development of natural texts, can be investigated empirically. If this dissertation is nothing more than a poor start of such investigation, it will at least, I hope, contribute in some way to the development of good methodologies to investigate linguistic creativity in relation to natural language use. The development of genres as discussed in Biber (1994; 1995, by Romaine for instance, who writes about Sports Reporting in Tok Pisin) is relevant to my analysis of Budu genres that developed from 1998, when written information and storytelling started to be edited. Biber assumes that, with the gradual development of literate language use, linguistic elements that are rich in information are increasingly used by new literates. He assumes, moreover, that they will eventually have learnt to exploit maximally the advantages of the written mode (Biber 1995:362). Biber’s assumption seems to imply that the integration of information represents a less natural way of verbal expression that is gradually acquired together with the use of print. As I proceeded with this research I discovered that I disagree with this view. My disagreement paradoxically follows from Biber’s own reasoning. On the same page 362 he addresses some misconceptions about the contrast between structural complexity and parataxis. Linguistic complexity does not, in itself, imply the integration of information, so the contrast itself is not valid, according to

Biber. Similarly, I do not see why parataxis can be equalled to a fragmented presentation of information. Chapter 8 of this book contains an example of a single onomatopaeic form that refers to cutting knives. Its use in linguistic parallelisms refers to multiple symptoms of dysentery, because it apparently evokes shared knowledge about the sensation of ‘cutting’ cramps and familiar observations of blood and mucus in the stool as a result from the damage that dysentery does to the soft texture of the intestines. There seems to be no reason to assume that such an iconic reference to complex information would be less suitable for the transmission of knowledge than the use of integrated information in model literate genres. If a concise formulation is apparently no novelty in Budu with its one word reference to multiple symptoms of dysentery, there would seem to be other factors that determine the observed 'unnaturalness' of genres that develop in new genres. I think that only Biber’s theoretical framework provides an empirical basis for a research of the variation that is related to cultural factors. I have combined his method with an ethnolinguistic approach to emerging hybrid genres. These genres develop when speakers ‘entextualise’ prototypical genres in real situations of language use (Bauman 2001; Bauman and Briggs 1992). The theory of ‘implicit anchoring’ developed by Östman (2005 in Halmari and Virtanen), in particular, can be fruitfully combined with an MD analysis, as I hope to illustrate. Östman (2005) assumes that formal features activate prototypes. In his approach, which focuses on English usage, such prototypes represent frames in the minds of language users. Some of these knowledge frames are activated by the overt expression of word patterns, while related expressions may be ‘implicitly anchored’ in the text. Virtanen and Halmari (2005) consider the hybrid ‘infomercial’ genre in Östman’s analysis an important strategy bridging the gap between informational and commercial genres. They emphasize that the main trigger of such creative innovation strategies is the social undesirability of any overt expression of persuasion in English. Although Östman limits his findings to the English language, I have found that ‘implicit anchoring’ can also be useful in explaining the emergence of partially expressed co-occurrence patterns in hybrid genres of Budu. In particular the discovery that such patterns emerge from a linguistic strategy to obscure the socially undesirable connotations stirred my interest. A certain unnaturalness of expression in newer genres may be related to patterns of language use that ‘evoke the wrong idea’ about the communciational intentions. An awareness of the dynamics that set this wrong idea can be the first step in ‘bridging the gap’. The creative texts in chapter 8 suggest that explicit information about medical issues may come across as an attempt of the speaker to, in the the first place qualify himself as ‘the expert’. From a desire to still involve the community and to share personal discoveries of great importance, the speaker may launch linguistic hints to this extent to ‘repair the gap’. The process of linguistic creativity that I have discussed here seems to be constantly at work ensuring that texts abide by factors, which have been determining fixed variations of language use. These factors determine the composition of linguistic co-occurrences that represent prototypes also in modern genres. To return to my opening paragraph: the orange object was unidentifiable, since it did not fit in with any prototypical image I could expect to see. It was, therefore, an 'unnatural' image to me, whereas the crack in the wall blended with the 'naturally expected' prototypical image of the keyhole. In my view, this insight that has triggered off a discussion of personal motivation for and purpose of writing this dissertation, could also prove to be helpful in coping with the ‘translators' dilemma concerning the production of (un)natural texts discussed above. Texts with patterns that confirm prototypical language use probably represent less problematic novelties. They are more acceptable than texts that seem odd in relation to fixed dimensions of communication. For that reason, pioneering writers and Budu translators may therefore be hesitant to use certain linguistic novelties if these are not in line with the nature of linguistic expression in Budu. I hope that this dissertation, which documents some texts that bridge the gap for the Budu by allusions to their rich verbal art, encourages the creativity of such pioneers. Claertje Frieke-Kappers

List of Abbreviations

1 – first person, or: 1st nominal class MIT – Mitigation 2 – second person, or: 2nd nominal class MOD – Modal particle 3 – third person, or: 3rd nominal class NEG – Negation ACT – Active Mood NEG.IPF – Negation of the Imperfect ADD – Additive NEG.OPT – Negation Optative ADI – Adjectival marker NEG.PF – Negation of the Perfect AM – Associative Marker NP – Noun Phrase or : Narrative Perfect ANAPH – Anaphoric expression NPF – Narratif Perfect APL – Applicative derivation OP – Object Prefix ATR – Advanced Tongue Root OPT – Optative CAUS – Causative derivation PAS – Passive Mood CL - Noun Class prefix PAST – Past Tense COND – Conditional PF or P – Perfect Aspect CONS – Consecutive PL - Plural CV – Consonant Vowel PP - Prepositional Phrase DepC – Depressor Consonant PROG – Progressive DET – Determiner PRON – pronoun DL – Default Low Tone PTC – Participle EXCL – Exclamation PX – Prefix EXH - Exhortation R – Rising Tone FR – French RAF – Relativizer affix FUT or F – Future REC – Reciprocal derivation GER – Gerund RED – Reduplication GIVEN – Given information REF – Reflexive derivation H – High Tone REL – Relative Pronoun HAB – Habitual REP – Repetitive/intensifying derivation HABPAST – Habitual Past RES – Resumption marker HPF – Historical Perfect SG – Singular IDEOPH – Ideophone Spec – Species, name of a particular x. IMP – Imperative SW – Swahili INF – Infinitival Form Syn – Synonymous Expression INT – Interrogative TAM – Tense, Aspect and Mood INTENS- Intensifier derivation TBU – Tone Bearing Unit IPF – Imperfect Aspect Var. – Variation IRR – Irreal Mode V – Verb IRR.NEG – Negation Irreal VOC – Vocative L – Low Tone VP – Verb Phrase LI – Lingala LOGOPH or LOG– Logophoric pronoun

A. Map of the area where Budu lineages are situated indicated by

Ilunga (1992) (cf. table 3.2).

Budu Lineages 1. Bafakoy 2. Baliko Toriko 3. Bafamada 4. Northern Maha 5. Southern Maha 6. Makoda (Neta speaking) 7. Malamba 8. Malika Bangatsa 9. Malika-Mabudu-Babyeru 10. Mangbele 11. Timoniko (Neta speaking) 12. Wadimbisa (Neta speaking)

B. A Map of the District Ituri East of Wamba

C. Map of the language families in Northeastern Congo (Bantu in grey, Central Sudanic in black, Adamawa Ubangi in white)

D. Map for Orientation with the Equator and Ituri River in relation to the Rivers Nile and Congo.

Chapter 1. Creative Use of Genre Features, Introduction

“The mere struggle for preservation through writing has tended to discourage or minimize endogenous [sic] creativity.”[…] “The essential thing is to see how it preserved our cultural heritage in order to share its task with modern ways of preservation or documentation.” Kishani (1985:80)

1.0 Introduction

The main focus in this ethnolinguistic study is the use of creative language in Budu. In order to document patterns of language use in modern1 genres which feature innovation and change, it presents an investigation of language use in sixteen main genres. Budu is a so called Forest Bantu language spoken by close to a quarter million (220,000) inhabitants of the Democratic Republic of Congo near the former coffee town of Isiro.2 Cultural information is included in the functional interpretation of patterns of linguistic forms, which co-occur as distinction of Budu genres, next to their linguistic analysis. A perspective which is rejected here is a purist perspective, in which alterations are considered as deviations from pure language use merely because this ‘pure’ form of language existed prior to the innovation process. Linguistic changes have often been interpreted as the immediate result of external factors, such as the innovation of communication techniques: news heralds becoming newspapers, for instance. In particular, the impact of acculturating influences was often taken into consideration. This is found in education through school language and in commerce through advertisements. From a purist perspective, these external factors are a major influence on the novel usage of language patterns. This problematic view is discussed in this chapter.

1The term ‘modern’ is used here in an anthropological sense as for example in Grootaers’ (1996) analysis of modernity among the Zande in Central Africa. His work convincingly shows that the concept in itself is valid, even though the assumptions behind the development of this notion are outdated. ‘Modernity’ implies dichotomies like the one between so called ‘traditional’ societies, that are not yet developed and ‘modern’ societies, with contemporary western society serving as a model towards which other societies are moving as they develop similar economies. This unidirectional approach fails to account for the role played by African societies in the process of globalisations. “Opposed to this view is the dialectical perspective, that acknowledges the interplay between indigenous dynamics and historical trajectories of local societies, on the one hand, and exogenous forces, often multiple and fragmented, on the other” (Grootaers 1996:6). Grootaers in his ‘ethnography of modernity among the Zande’ (1996) therefore describes both the innovations in Zande society (in the areas of political authority, agricultural production, communication and mobility, health, education and Christian Missionary work) and the indigenous discourse of modernity, expressed in new beliefs about misfortune (an increase in homicide related to ‘crocodile-men’ and new religious practices such as a prophetess movement). My use of the term ‘modern’ follows this dialectical perspective where previous dichotomies are replaced with new ones between ‘endogenous’ and ‘exogenous’ and between ‘local’ and ‘global’. The notion ‘creativity’ is used to interpret the reaction to intrusions from this perspective (see for example also Dauphin- Tinturier and Derive (2005)), as in the title of this dissertation. 2Ilunga (1992) refers to the last population count in 1985, when the Budu population of Wamba district was ca. 180,000 with an uncounted number of Budu speakers in virtually all major cities of the DRC. See chapter 2 for information about the Budu community and chapter 3 for information about this Bantu-D language.

1 In contrast, the remainder of this dissertation will be an attempt to interpret internal language factors of innovation. These internal factors can be distilled from empirical research in a multidimensional (MD) approach to variation developed by Biber (1988; 1995). Here various genres of the language are compared for their distribution of linguistic features. While, in the absence of empirical evidence, internal factors of change were often disregarded, I personally think that the MD model enables investigation at the level of empirically observed clusters of linguistic features. This notion is developed in this introduction. Clusters of co-occurrence at text level are central to the MD approach. These co-occurrences provide a platform from which internal factors of variation of a language can be distilled. The creative use of single features can be analysed and explained in relation to internal factors of variation of language. This is possible when the occurrence of single genre features is interpreted in relation to the clusters, as will be illustrated in this dissertation. The view held here is that innovation and change can be seen as mutations of Budu in line with internal factors that determine its expression rather than as foreign additions to a language that almost looses its own character under the pressure of external factors. Because innovations are rather seen as mutations that develop in line with the indigenous language use, they represent new expressions of the language’s nature in reaction to external factors. They therefore can be considered as ‘natural’ language use. If there is any insight from this dissertation that is applicable, the results of this research indicate what constitutes ‘natural language use’ in Budu. This notion is often used in applied linguistics without any precise definition as is discussed in this introduction. Consequently naturalness is often confused with a ‘pure and unchanged’ use of genre conventions.3 This dissertation will illustrate how the notion of naturalness can be worked out in terms of the linguistic co-occurrences within the genres of a language. These represent the language use that is to be expected in Budu and that therefore is ‘natural.’ Novelties may vary these combinations in natural ways providing that they can be explained from the internal factors that determine co-occurrence in the first place. In documenting patterns of language use I hope to facilitate the recognition of innovations that are in line with ‘natural’ expression in Budu, since they seem to be in line with the internal factors that determine linguistic expression. The dichotomy between external factors and internal factors implies a simplification. Although the co-occurrence patterns within the language provide empirical evidence for ‘internal’ reasons for innovation, co-occurrences arise because of cultural conventions. In fact they therefore represent interplay between exogenous and indigenous factors. The quotation from Kishani above can be read as motto with the title: ‘the creative use of genre features.’ It indicates how creativity may be instrumental in preserving the cultural heritage of a language group, including its genre conventions. Kishani’s statement comes in the context of a discussion about language in speech and writing. The Cameroonian writer assumes in his article in Présence Africaine that creativity determines the language use of a group just as much as conventions do. The creative use of linguistic expressions in oral tradition kept the use of African languages alive even when languages of wider communication appeared. This idea seems to contradict intuitive judgements about the conservative role of tradition. A core area of description and analysis in linguistic studies seems to be represented by the rules and regularities of language systems and their use. The ‘preservation’ of ‘endangered’ languages, to use the terminology of the United Nations,4 is in practice often limited to this core task. It would be easy for preservation to neglect the creative potential of languages in adapting to new situations. The

3Often in workshops for translators the translated genres in the source language are compared with similar genres in the target language to compare use of linguistic conventions at text level. 4After the journal Language (1992) with its issue on endangered languages was edited, this terminology remained in use for example in UNESCO organised discussions; UN-related websites and publications (e.g. Bamgbose 2001), but also in the US National Science Foundation, that started an archiving system (MELD) for the documentation of endangered languages (sic) in 2006 (similar to Joel Sherzer’s digital archiving system). Most recently the focus changed from the ‘preservation’ of ‘nearly extinct species’ (sic) to the promotion of language use in all possible media, including internet and computer software.

2 focus of this present language study concerns the analysis of the continued creativity that makes existing conventions as vital as they seem to be, adapting to modern ways of linguistic expression, just as Kishani suggests. I will try to explain how the approach in this research is designed to keep the balance between these two. A quantitative approach to correlation between genre and linguistic expression in a moderate corpus of over two hundred texts5 with 59,284 words is represented in the central part of this study. Recurring morpho-syntactic categories in this corpus were quantified in relation to the main genre of the text in which they occur. These main genres were labelled by Budu speakers. All recurring linguistic forms were tagged with a particular code in the various texts of the corpus. A preliminary linguistic sketch describes the inherent function of the linguistic elements of Budu language use. Features that proved to be countable (in a preliminary phase) were all included in the final investigation of patterns of co-occurrence. Statistical techniques were used to investigate the distribution of linguistic features over the genres of the researched corpus. Features with a shared complementary distribution were taken as empirically found clusters. A qualitative approach was used to functionally interpret the clusters of co-occurrence. In this complementary analysis clusters were studied to discover the shared function of the linguistic forms that emerges when they co-occur in texts as a group. Also the group of genres in which such cluster systematically occurs is considered to discover what they have in common. This analysis requires some knowledge of the language and some knowledge of the cultural context in which genres are used. Together the quantitative and the qualitative lead to a description of conventional language use. Against the background of conventional patterns of co-occurrence in the main genres, the creative use of some genre-features in emerging, hybrid genres is finally discussed with references to the historical and cultural background.

1.1 Text Organisation

This dissertation is organised in three main parts. The first part consists of the presentation of background information regarding the language group in chapter 2 and regarding the language in chapter 3. The second part with the core of the research consists of the chapters 4 to 7. Chapter 4 lists all recurring linguistic elements and the main recurring genres. Chapters 5 and 6 present the relation between genre and language use and an interpretation of the distribution with six clusters of co- occurrence, including further refinement by a closer look at the actual use of some culturally specific forms. Chapter 7 contains many text excerpts as it interprets the shared characteristics of genres that share the distribution of one cluster. This chapter illustrates earlier statements concerning conventional language use. The core of this dissertation presents the methodology and results. The third and most important part of this dissertation consists of the analysis of creative use of genre features. Chapter 8 interprets language use in one particular modern genre, that of medical information. The non-linguistic aspects of medical care are relatively well documented, allowing the reader to compare statements about the relation between language and situational factors with existing literature. Chapter 9 resumes the conclusions of this research and postulates areas of further research. In this introductory chapter the theoretical framework is introduced first. Its application to the investigation of creative language use requires an introduction to the concept of creativity as it is used in this study next. A separate section will follow to relate this to the insights obtained in genre theory over the last decades. Finally the importance of cognitive concepts is emphasised. But first the relevance of this research to the notion of naturalness is explained.

5This concerns 417 texts, including 214 one-liners (proverbs and some riddles).

3 1.2 Relevance for the Notion of ‘Naturalness’

Creativity should, perhaps, foremost be of interest to linguists because languages develop. In the course of that development any linguistic element may be used creatively, first by individuals and later by groups of language users (Croft 2000). An analysis of the functions of such elements requires an explanation of their dynamic patterning in fixed combinations. In, for example, fixed combinations in Swahili as spoken in Shaba, reported speech has occurrences of the French negation non. In Shaban Swahili this French loanword lost its linguistic function as negation. In this language virtually all occurrences of the loanword non indicate turn taking in direct speech. The loanword does not necessarily imply negation. The French negation non developed its specific metalinguistic function in Swahili after it integrated into Shaban Swahili occurrences of reported speech (De Rooij 1996:136,137). This example illustrates the importance of fixed combinations. In combination with other expressions that function to report speech in Shaban Swahili, the French non is used to indicate turn taking. The negation developed this metalinguistic function in combination with expressions of reported speech. De Rooij's analysis of Shaban Swahili also indicates the suitability of salient elements, like the French loanword non, for use as metalinguistic signals. Linguistic elements with a marked phonological appearance are suitable for text structuring or turn taking, because their salient occurrence in itself cuts a text into separate parts. The saliency of the French negation, being a loanword in Shaban Swahili, explains its aptness as indication of a new turn that some reported speaker takes in a sequence of reported speech. The negation non with its nasal vowel, gives this loanword a marked sound in Shaban Swahili. Although loanwords are by nature phonologically different, not all salient elements need to be imported from foreign languages. Certain categories in a linguistic organisation may represent ‘odd’ elements. In Voelz and Kilian (2001) several phonological and morphological features are described that tend to mark ideophones as deviations from other parts of linguistic organisation. Ideophones are words that activate a mental image of some action or process. Their markedness seems essential for some textual effects, facilitating their function as metalinguistic signals. At the same time this ‘odd’ character might explain the “image problem” ideophones have in academic publications, as observed by Meier (1999:146), for instance. Mphande goes as far as to call the academic treatment of ideophones ‘textual genocide’ (1992:119). In my view, the tendency to ignore metalinguistic functions in theoretical linguistics points at an underestimation of creativity. After all, any linguistic element can be used in creative processes where a metalinguistic function is developed. There seem to be therefore at least two points of interest for a linguistic analysis of the creative use of linguistic elements, that is, the possibility of a metalinguistic function, and, its subsequent development into a linguistic function. Creativity is central to both issues. The relevance of this research is indicated with a concrete example, namely that of the ideophone. The use of ideophones illustrates possible implications of insights about co-occurrences for the naturalness of texts.6 Doke provides the most cited definition for the ideophone as: ‘A vivid representation of an idea in sound’ (1935:118). I prefer Mphande’s definition of ideophones as ‘mental

6The first to use this criterion was Campbell (1719-96) (Campbell 1.445f; in: J.R. Mackintosh and H.R. Sefton, "Introduction" to G. Campbell, Lectures, Sermons and Dissertations (Bristol: Thoemmes, 3 vols. 2001) vii-xxii.). With Newmark (1988), Professor of Translation Abdul-Baki As-Safi (Al Mustansiriya University of Bagdad) is one of the few, who elaborated the notion of naturalness. He writes that “On the lexical and cohesive levels, naturalness is a concomitant of proper diction and proper use of cohesive devices in compliance with the Target Language system. On the syntactic level, well-formedness brings about natural sentences which make good use of Target Language – resources.” (Abdul-Baki As-Safi with Incam Sahim Ash-Sharifi 2000). It is very interesting that Professor Abdul-Baki As-Safi’s features of natural language use relate to the choice of genre. Cohesive devices for example are, according to Halliday and Hasan (1976 and 1985) among the most unambiguous indications of register. Since genre as important cultural convention is crucial to the notion of naturalness, it is not surprising that it seems to determine the linguistic phenomena that Abdul-Baki (2000) mentions.

4 image that a spoken sound evokes in the listener,’ (1992:118). Ideophones indeed seem to be characterised by their iconic role that alludes to story scenes in the most concise way, often underlying its main events (Noss 2001 and de Jong 2001). Mphande deplores the fact that: “Ideophones are visibly absent from the translations7 made under influence of missionaries or by missionary-trained scholars (the pioneer researchers in the field of African language studies)” (1992:119). A reason for this absence is suggested in Nida’s instructions to translators, where he explains the inappropriateness of onomatopoeic expressions in language that is used for Bible translations as a problem for the ‘message-context suitability.’ In the context of the Holy Bible, the use of expressions that missionary translators in their own language perceived as ‘slang’ would be inappropriate for the expression of its message (1964:167) and therefore not natural. Nida defines naturalness as ‘the quality of linguistic appropriateness’ in translations.8 This quality ensures that a text ‘conveys an appropriate message.’ Nida’s example clarifies the role of non-African translators9 in the historical development that Mphande indicated. Also in linguistics the idea that ideophones are “highly expressive forms that are subject to stylistic expressions and small in number” has unfortunately been widespread (Meier 1999:136). Meier refers to a workbook on French rhetoric boum is called ‘somewhat silly’ (Dubois 1974) and compared with words that are associated with ‘simplified talk’ about or to children. The phonological nature of most ideophones makes them different from the other forms in the same language. They therefore are perceived as ‘wild’ nature sound (Rhodes 1997 in Meier 1999:137) that is in origin spontaneous (Quirk 1985 in opus cit.), imitative rather than structural and exhibiting such a variety that they are subject to individual interpretation rather than being part of a convention (Leisi 1985 opus cit.). Nash (1989:139 in Meier 1999:146) even claims that they depend “neither on nature nor on convention but on illusion.” Meier reaches the conclusion that, “unfortunately ideophones have an image problem” although they occur “with ubiquity in the native language of five continents.” In 2001, several authors in the volume ‘Ideophones’ (Voelz & Kilian 2001) demanded attention for the way ideophones contribute to the development of discourse. However, Childs in the same volume represents the perspective that ideophones are ‘characteristic of developing languages.’ The idea that ideophones are not a natural feature of fully developed languages seems to be suggested. Mphande discusses a scientific bias against ideophonic language as “textual genocide,” in the sense that it contributes to the annihilation of a fundamental cultural component of African languages,” (1992:119). Even if one does not want to go as far as Mphande, his complaint is clear: ideophones are part of the nature of cultural expression in many African languages and can not be dismissed as odd elements with wild and unconventional properties.

7Indeed Samarin (1971:152) observes that ‘Bible societies are reported to have been very cautious in authorising (or recommending) their use [of ideophones] in Africa.” 8‘Patterns’ recur as an important concept in the discussions about naturalness. Language with patterns that ‘fit the situation’ is considered as natural. It exhibits patterns that manifest the norm which speakers have in mind when they react to a specific situation. Therefore their language use is natural. For Nida (1974) the term ‘natural’ is contrasted with what he calls ‘translationese’ (p. 208) and which he describes as ‘a violation of normal grammatical and semotactic [sic] patterns of language use, unfaithful to the content and impact of the original language.’ Nida defines ‘natural’ in a negative way as language which is "characterised by the use of grammatical constructions and combinations of words which do not violate the ordinary patterns of a language" (1974:203; italics mine). He further assumes that these patterns impact communication. This impact follows from the ‘normal’ expectations of language users. However, Nida does not specify ‘ordinary’ or ‘normal’ patterns of language use. 9In contrast to these non-African translators, Kunene suggested already in 1971 that the function of ideophones should be studied in relation to their distribution over the entire repertoire of genres in a language (1971:10).

5 The widespread image problems of the ideophone10 illustrate the point made by Brown and Fraser (1979:38-39): It can be “misleading to concentrate on specific, isolated [linguistic] markers without taking into account systematic variations which involve the co-occurrence of sets of markers” (in Biber 1995:30). From a phonological point of view or even from morpho-syntactic point of view, ideophones represent ‘odd’ elements that do not follow the linguistic conventions. Their inherent function seems to be expressive and they therefore risk being considered on the same terms as highly varying exclamations. The present study accounts for the systematic variation in which ideophones are involved and shows the set of markers in which they involve the community of the audience (see section 5.2.4.2). Out of the six co-occurrence patterns in Budu one includes ideophones, which suggests that the naturalness of the use of ideophones can be interpreted in relation to these patterns. They reflect the ‘second nature’ from which Budu speakers perceive linguistic utterances and thereby form a criterion of naturalness that should be described empirically with Biber’s co-occurrence patterns. It also is my hope that the results of this study may contribute to the development of further insights in the development of genres in literacy and in Bible translation, in particular in Budu, which so far has only the gospel of St. Luke while a team of Budu translators is working on other books.

1.3 A Multidimensional Analysis of Language-use Variation

In this dissertation I follow the empirical approach of Biber (1988; 1995) to genre. Genres are defined by Biber as variations of language use that are defined by situational characteristics and recognised by mature speakers of a language.11 One of the main distinguishing characteristics of the mulitdimensional approach (MD) to genre as proposed by Biber (1988) is that it considers genre as a continuous rather than discrete construct (Biber 1995:31). No attempt is made to identify genre levels, genres are described in relation to the factors that determine variation in language use. Biber has developed an analytical framework for the analysis of genre-related variation. In his approach situational characteristics are reflected in the linguistic features selected through an intermediary concept, namely that of the so called ‘dimension’ of variation. Some situational characteristics determine language variation in genres. They can therefore be considered as factors of this variation. The linguistic features that ‘co-vary’ with each other, depending on the situation of language use, show that they are affected by the same factor. This factor makes it possible to introduce an intermediary level: “Each set of co-occurring features is called a “dimension” of variation. These are groups of linguistic features that co-occur with high frequency in texts,” (Biber, Conrad & Reppen 1998:146). With corpus-linguistic techniques, the clustering of co-occurring features in particular genres in a collection of texts can be observed. These make it possible to postulate dimensions from quantitative observations. At the same time dimensions are clusters of linguistic features which are associated with a specific function. “Factor interpretations depend on the assumption that linguistic co-occurrence patterns reflect underlying communicative functions.” (Biber and Conrad 2001:24). Dimensions are therefore

10Attempts to encourage the frequent use of ideophones (as they are made in writers workshops to encourage literacy production) in texts where they do not contribute to the communicative intention are just as much result of an image problem since such advice is only expressed in reaction to the absence of ideophones. 11Cf. Stubbs 1996:11 Genres are “goal directed language activities, socially recognized text types, which form patterns of meaning in the social world.” Biber only uses the term text type for prototypical texts. Although using ‘genre’ for situation bound language-use variations in 1988:68, Biber opted for the more general term ‘register’ in later work since he preferred a more general cover term that can be associated with all aspects of variation in use (Biber 1995:9). Considering the close correspondence between register and his earlier use of the term ‘genre,’ I see no reason why, in this specific application in Budu, I should not use the term ‘genre’ (Biber 1995:10).

6 described as underlying communicative functions, or shorter: as ‘dimensions of communication.’ This functional interpretation is based on a qualitative research. It includes an assessment of the shared function of the co-occurring features in a cluster on the one hand, and a study of the similarities and differences between the genres involved on the other hand. Among the dimensions Biber identifies, interactiveness; production circumstances, informational focus, and personal stance are to be mentioned. As the name of this approach suggests, ‘multiple dimensions’ of variation can be observed from the distribution of co-occurring linguistic features. The co-occurrence of features forms a strong indication for the existence of a community convention. Such conventions consist of the agreed understanding that a particular speaker-intention is expressed with a particular (genre related) language use. Biber relates clusters that he observes in particular genres in a corpus to community conventions. The interplay between multiple dimensions is responsible for the complex way in which genres are distinguished in languages. The main premise in MD is the idea that genre comparisons with respect to one single linguistic feature, or along one single dimension of variation, are inadequate for a comprehensive understanding of the relationship among genres (Biber, Conrad and Reppen 1998:156). Genres may be said to vary along the lines laid by dimensions, as they represent texts that vary in their use of certain co-occurrence patterns. Corpus-linguistic techniques enable the description of these relative differences that are important to distinguish particular genres from each other. Genres can be described in terms of the relative differences that are measured quantitatively, as explained in the next paragraphs. The idea of attempting to quantify aspects of language use will be ‘repulsive to many linguists, and outright ridiculous to others,’ to use a variation on Caroll’s words.12 Nevertheless the results represent some of the more obvious characteristics of genre-related language use. These results became available with the rise of corpus linguistics and remain to be further investigated. The ethnolinguistic analysis of creative language use risks remaining rather vague without an empirical basis, so a quantitative approach is needed in this area. Nonetheless I would like to draw attention to the fact that a qualitative analysis remains the aim of all quantitative activities reported in the rather elaborate core chapters of this book. Systematic differences in the relative use of core linguistic features provide a means to determine the language use that characterises particular genres. A comparative approach is required for the analysis of these differences. If there are ten Budu animal stories, a linguistic feature can only be called characteristic for this genre if its occurrence is extraordinary in comparison to the language use in other texts representing other genres. A particular frequency is neither rare nor common in itself. In English for instance, a frequency of 25 per 1,000 words would be extremely common for relative clauses, which typically have average frequencies between 1 and 10 per 1,000 words, depending on the genre. In contrast, a frequency of 25 per 1,000 words would be almost impossibly rare for nouns, where the average frequencies are closer to 200 per 1,000 words (Biber, Conrad and Reppen 1998:137). In order to capture all main distinctions in language use, a wide range of all core linguistic features therefore needs to be included. Only then can quantitative comparisons lead to the correct interpretation of particular distinctive features. Likewise, the expected frequencies for a particular genre can only be interpreted by comparisons with other genres. A frequency count for relative clauses in one particular genre is only meaningful in comparison to its frequency in other genres. The collection of a wide range of socially recognised text categories is needed for such a comparison, assuming that a wide range of linguistic features is represented. The identification of the relative differences of core linguistic features in these

12Some linguists may still identify themselves with the literary critics whom Caroll (1960:282) mentioned before the epoch of corpus-linguistics broke loose: “The notion of attempting to quantify aspects of literary style will be repulsive to many literary critics, and outright ridiculous to others. […] nevertheless the results represent some of the more obvious characteristics of prose that need to be observed, mentioned and duly noted.”

7 text categories enables the researcher to determine the language use that can be expected to occur in particular genres (not defining the categories in an absolute sense, for single texts may in fact differ from the prototype). The analysis of genre variation requires ‘corpora’ that ‘represent the full range of major co- occurrence patterns in a language’ (Biber, Conrad, Reppen 1998:145). The study of a single genre is not sufficient since it does not enable comparisons. In equal manner, it is not possible reliably to distinguish among genres by considering the relative frequencies of individual linguistic features. It is impossible to determine the important features before the research results are available, since too many core linguistic features are shared among genres in natural languages. It is nevertheless possible to look at a category of texts in a researched corpus and to determine which combinations of features appear in each text that represents a certain genre. These combinations are called with a more technical term: the ‘linguistic co-occurrences.’ The importance of linguistic co-occurrence has been emphasized by linguists such as Firth, Halliday, Ervin-Tripp, and Hymes. Biber (1995:30) also quotes Brown and Fraser (1979:38-39) who observe, as I mentioned before, that it can be ‘misleading to concentrate on specific isolated [linguistic] markers without taking into account systematic variations which involve the co-occurrence of sets of markers.’ (square brackets by Biber). He furthermore refers to Ervin-Tripp (1972) and Hymes (1974), who identify ‘speech styles’ as varieties that are defined by a shared set of co-occurring linguistic features, and to Halliday (1988:162), who defines a register as ‘a cluster of associated features having a greater-than-random … tendency to occur,’ (in Biber 1995:30). Many linguistic forms have a relatively low frequency of occurrence. Somebody even remarked that consequently ‘almost any repeated collocation [of a pair of identical words] is a most unlikely event’ (Östman 2005:188 refers to Sinclair 1991:116). Repeated collocations according to translation specialists Hatim and Mason are invariably related to speaker intention (1990:204). They mention the usefulness of repeated collocations as cues for translators. In particular in using lexical repetition, the speaker seems to purposely repeat an otherwise random combination of words. Consider the next citation from Andrea Tyler (1994), who elaborately studied the phenomenon of lexical repetition in relation to coherence: “Partial patterns of lexical repetition provide the listener with meta-information concerning how to interpret key lexical items with the situated context.” When certain combinations of words recur in a text, their meaning is no longer restricted to their reference; they start to function at another level, since they carry what Tyler calls a certain ‘meta-information.’ Gumperz (1982:131) calls this meta-information the ‘contextualisation cue’ of a combination. Where Tyler says that repetitions provide information that is needed to interpret the text’s relation to the situated context, Gumperz contends in more general terms that ‘repeated co-occurrences’ provide a cue to understand the language use in relation to the context. Tyler’s explanation of how this meta-information operates may prove to be helpful: “When a speaker repeats the lexical item, she is signalling to her listener that she is talking about the referent established in the earlier mention. Lexical repetition, thus, acts as a cue that the lexical item has been specified for the purpose of the particular exchange,” (Tyler 1994:686). Gumperz notion of ‘contextualization cues’ is formulated to apply to more than lexical repetition. His contextualisation cues are not per se related to the repetition of lexical collocation, they are defined in relation to a wider set of possibilities13. The most important features of co-occurrences concern the function that it has by the sum total of its members. It has added value. The repeated use of particular categories can be understood according to the same principle of added value since it gives certain

13Each text contains certain features, expressions or structures (or perhaps paralinguistic characteristics or the mere conventions for its use) that, by their combination, enable the language users to identify the main activity. This combination of features or in technical terms ‘co-occurrence’ is typical for the expression of particular social activities in a particular language community.

8 ‘cues’ providing meta-information. Texts with many imperatives, vocatives and exclamations might be understood to be rather directive, for instance. Biber, Conrad and Reppen discovered that fixed co-occurrence patterns that reflect speaker- intention are not related to lexical items or semantic or discourse structure: “From a discourse perspective, the meaning of a text cannot simply be derived from the meanings of the individual sentences in the text,” (Biber, Conrad and Reppen 1998:123). The systematic ways in which the grammatical resources of sentences work together at a discourse level is not directly related to key lexical items that structure the text. Rather there are more subtle indicators of purpose, associated with the language use situation. When words of particular morphosyntactic categories frequently co-occur in particular genres, this provides an indication of a shared function. It carries some meta-information that seems to be intentionally expressed in the text by the language users: “Based on the assumption that co-occurrence reflects shared function, these co-occurrence patterns are interpreted in terms of the situational, social, and cognitive functions most widely shared by the linguistic features” (Biber 1995:30). The co- occurrence of second person forms with imperatives and vocatives for example reflects interaction in English, while a high frequency of generalised content words with unfinished sentences and contracted words at phrase level probably results from a limited production time (Biber, Conrad and Reppen 1998:147): Together these forms co-occur in English conversation, where participants interact with each other and speakers must cope with the constraints of on-line production.” “The MD approach assumes the existence of shared functions underlying groupings of co- occurring features, so that at least some of the functions associated with a given feature will be shared with the other features” in a cluster (Biber 1995:135). The focus is on the shared function of groupings. If a certain text has many adjectives, quantifiers and participia, it signals that a speaker makes use of the conventional set of forms to ‘explain.’ In English an informational focus is manifest in genres that share the characteristic that they represent careful production (Biber 1995:135). In English, texts with many adjectives and nouns tend to have few second person pronouns. This implies that an informational focus tends to exclude an interpersonal focus in English, as can be observed from complementary distribution of these forms. It seems that English language use reflects a combination of the parameters of involvement and information in one dimension that has production time as its shared communicative ‘function.’ The same linguistic forms are not per se associated with this same function when occurring in other contexts, outside the cluster. Another example is that first person forms can contribute to a cluster that reflects interaction in co-occurrence with second person forms. First person forms may be used as well in texts that express formal declarations or monologues that do not involve the audience. The form per se does not reflect interaction. The co-occurrence with other forms of one cluster conditions whether a shared function is ‘instantiated’ at text level, one could say. A shared function may sometimes be related to the inherent function of a linguistic form (as involvement is to second person forms) but it could as well operate at another level, being instantiated by co-occurring forms (ideophones for instance). A focus on the inherent functions of forms can, as Oakey (2002:126) remarked, obscure the multifunctionality of some forms: ‘putting linguistic items in functional categories can obscure the fact that they can have multiple functions.” In the functional interpretation of a cluster an emerging function of single forms, which is instantiated by its systematical co-occurrences with other forms, is more important than the ‘box’ in which the forms is categorised. The shared function of a cluster of forms differs from the sum total of their individual functions. In his English MD research Biber (1988) used 67 features for each of the 481 texts in a one million word corpus and found several clusters of linguistic features, where each cluster is called a dimension. After the main dimensions of communication are determined empirically, the dimension is interpreted functionally.

9 The first step in the interpretation of a dimension is an assessment of the functions that are most widely shared by the members of the co-occurrence pattern. This functional interpretation represents the qualitative part of the research. It is based on an assessment of the common function most widely shared by the cluster of linguistic features in one co-occurrence. In a shared, complementary distribution, positive members express the opposite of the negative members, while both share the same function.14 In English (Biber 1988) co-occurrences of contracted forms and second person forms in texts, for instance, reflect a non-informational focus that characterises interaction in contrast to co-occurrences with nouns, prepositional phrases and attributive adjectives, which convey an informational focus (Biber 1995:135). If English speakers focus on the interaction, as in telephone conversation, they use contracted forms in combination with second person forms in an on-line production of language. In contrast, texts without these forms reflect a careful formulation with integrated information in nouns and attributive adjectives and prepositional phrases. This opposite end of the continuum reflects careful production. Although the forms that were mentioned are very different, they share the function of distinguishing on-line production from careful production in English. A second aspect of functional interpretation consists of an analysis of the similarities and differences among genres with respect to one dimension. By counts of the linguistic features with respect to the dimension (for instance by a noun-score or an adjective score) it becomes possible to compare the texts that represent one dimension and to make generalisations regarding the genres that are most representative of it. In English, telephone conversations have the highest scores for involved production, whereas official documents have the lowest score. The contrast between these types of communication in actual texts confirms the functional interpretation previously given on the basis of the linguistic features. The similarities and differences among genres with respect to dimensions are helpful in the establishing of functional interpretations. The group of genres that represent use of a certain cluster is compared with the group of genres without occurrence of the same cluster. A contrastive analysis of the two groups of genres contributes to the functional interpretation of a ‘dimension.’ In English for instance telephone conversations and academic prose can be considered as non-narrative language use in contrast to fiction. While Biber (1994) was still researching whether he could find some universal parameters of variation in language use, he concludes in his 1995 publication that the culturally-specific expression of languages results in entirely different organisations of linguistic expression in each language. In his 1995 publication Biber summarises MD approaches to register variation in four languages.15His goal was to investigate the possibilities of cross-linguistic universals for register variation and to identify generalisations that held across English, Somali, Korean and Tuvuluan Nukulaelae (1995:24). In 1988 Biber observed the most prominent clusters of linguistic features in English, before he interpreted possible functions of these clusters. The functional interpretations are not made a priori; they follow from the observed distribution of core linguistic features in a corpus representing a wide variety of texts. Each language exhibits different patterns of co-occurrence, which distribution reflects different contrasts in communication. In English the contrast between informationally-focused language and personally- involved language is apparently important, as can be observed from the most important cluster that combines these two parameters. This dimensions is related the use of written communication in

14Complementary distributions include ‘features that tend to be present’ and ‘features that tend to be absent.’ In English nouns, prepositional phrases and attributive adjectives co-occur in texts that have a markedly low frequency of contractions, present tense verbs and second-person pronouns (Biber, Conrad and Reppen 1998:147). To account for the complementary nature of the distribution of the two groupings they are called the negative and the positive features. They nevertheless belong to the same cluster. This analysis accounts for the shared distribution that any text with the occurrence of positive features has notably few occurrences of negative features. Conversely, if a text has many occurrences of the negative features, it will usually have notably few positive features. 15Besnier’s (1988) work on Nukulaelae Tuvuluan; Kim’s (1990) work on Korean; Biber and Hared’(1992; 1994) work on Somali and Biber’s (1988) work on English were the first comprehensive MD analyses.

10 academic communication. In contrast in Korean, honorification plays a role in the contrast between expressions of deference and written communication without such expressions, as can be observed from its manifestation in the cluster of honorification, which use reflects this contrast. Researches into the dimensions underlying speech-writing differences represent one application of MD. Its description for instance only takes 19 of the 428 pages in Biber’s cross-linguistic comparison of dimensions of genre variation (1995). More central to Biber’s approach is the notion of genre. Situational variations of language are crucial to communication and the ubiquitous nature of genres consequently has been noted by several scholars. Biber and Conrad (2001:4) quote Ure (1982:5), Ferguson (1983:154) and Hymes (1984:44). All three underline the all-pervasive nature of genre variation in language use. Since MD approaches are designed to investigate the linguistic correlates of dimensions of communication, genre plays a central role as concept in this framework. Previous research in MD established functions like production circumstances (a function of situation); the presentation of information (a cognitive function) or the involvement of the community (a social function) is irrelevant. It does not determine the extent to which clusters of co-occurrence mark the main genres of language use in a community. Biber’s MD approach of genres is the first to explain observed clusters of co-occurrence in genres of large text corpora. Whereas critics like Milroy (2001) disregard any co-occurrences of elements representing different levels of linguistic organisation,16 Biber’s methodology provides a tool to investigate the creative manipulation of clusters that can not be explained without the multifunctionality of different levels of linguistic organisation. This particularity of co-occurrences is crucial to their operation. It enables language users to recognise culturally-specific dimensions of communication that are not explained by the inherent functions of the linguistic forms in co-occurrences. Biber's work therefore accounts for the exploitation of linguistic variation by language communities. This dissertation applies the MD theoretical framework as developed by Biber (1988; 1994; 1995), for the investigation of creative innovations in Budu. This special application requires an adaptation of the statistical tools, as I will now attempt to explain. Since the present research is an investigation of the creative use of genre features, it represents an attempt to explore linguistic features that speakers apparently are most aware of using. Whereas patterns of co-occurrence usually operate below the level of conscious awareness, gifted language users exploit these patterns. Their creative application of the patterns gives evidence that, at some semi-conscious level these verbally gifted speakers are sufficiently aware of these patterns to manipulate language use, achieving in creating some intended effects. To focus on these salient characteristics of genre, the establishment of direct feature/genre correlations seems more helpful than the correlation between particular distributions, as calculated in the so called technique of ‘factor analysis’ used in MD-approaches. A factor analysis is a correlational technique that is designed to identify clusters of variables that are distributed in similar ways. It determines which features typically occur together in texts.17 Instead of a factor analysis, a slightly different methodology was used in the present research. Factor analyses depend on the correlation between the shared distribution of one feature with another feature (independent of whether these distributions include significant frequencies in relation to the genre). In contrast, the chosen technique takes correlations between genre and feature as its point of departure. In a second step, the distribution of each linguistic feature is compared and those features that do not contradict each others’ complementary distribution in the entire corpus are considered as members of the same cluster of co-occurrence, while clusters with less than five members are

16Milroy considers phonological functions for instance as a more basic property than pragmatic functions. 17When a text has for instance many nouns in English, it is likely to also have many attributive adjectives and prepositional phrases, whereas a text with few nouns probably also has few attributive adjectives and prepositional phrases.

11 disregarded. Since both statistical techniques result in clusters of co-occurrence, the same qualitative analysis can be applied as in Biber’s work. In the rest of this dissertation I hope to clarify the aptness of clusters of co-occurrence as an empirical basis of a research of multiple dimensions of communication in the Budu researched corpus of texts. Innovative alterations represent alternatives in relation to the indigenous patterns of conventional language use and can be explained in relation to the same dimensions, as I will demonstrate. Such analysis accounts for the indigenous factors related to innovation. Some of the creative language use relates to single genre features, but this will always be in reference to the cluster in which they operate. In the section on the cognitive aspects of creativity, I will account for the freedom which I take in making statements about the use of single genre features in reference to Östman (2005). A technical detail that might be of interest to those who work in Genre theory is that the approach chosen here allows for a dynamic view on genres. Although correlations-matrices with genre- form correlations are an important point of departure, they are only used to make the complementary distribution of forms over genres visible. This distribution is established from relative co-occurrences.18 Similar to the MD approach, the approach opted here allows for a perspective on genres as fluid categories. Genres are defined in relation to systematic differences in the relative use of core linguistic features. This seems to be important, since the dynamic nature of genre conventions makes them suitable to alter patterns of language use creatively.

1.4 Language and Creativity

Creative language use provides evidence for the cognitive reality of clusters that can be observed by MD-analyses. The dynamics of creative genre modification clarifies the nature of these clusters, as will be explained in the following section. In this section first the role of creativity in language change is discussed in general. Verbally-gifted members of a society use clusters of co-occurring forms with maximum effect. With their playful language they impact audiences; effectively exploiting linguistic expectations. A village chief may, for instance, be portrayed as an authority by the performative speech which he is reported to give in storytelling, when the expectations regarding chiefs and their addresses to villagers are reflected in his language use. By the use of the appropriate cluster, storytellers exploit genre-distinctive forms. These forms seem to enable them to connect with the expectations of the audience. Verbal art involves the most effective use of patterns of co-occurrence; nevertheless, it often is produced intuitively, without any conscious identification of these patterns. It nevertheless presupposes the ability of the audience to unpack implied allusions to for instance the ‘decree of the chief’ genre. This unpacking occurs at a semi-conscious level, while the audience is focused on the story line. Next to the playful exploitation of co-occurrences, language use can be modified to achieve individual goals, when somebody is lying by using an oath, for instance. Individual language users may exploit any linguistic unit or any level of linguistic organisation in order to achieve their own communicative goals. This “is an important arena for language change in the area of patterns of variation” (Biber 1994:27).19 In the case of lying a speaker intentionally hides his deceitful manipulation of some conventions; focused as he or

18Relative predictability equals that a form is not significantly absent in a genre, relative absence equals that it is not significantly present. Forms with a relative chance of co-occurring often seem to share also their relative predictabilities. 19Communicative intention is not to be confused with speakers’ intention. Due to the creativity in human language ‘scolding,’ may eventually be used to establish friendships. The individual intention expressed with this offensive language is far from offensive. In this dissertation nothing is said about possible individual intentions, simply because they can not be empirically tested.

12 she is on hiding the truth. Even ‘liars,’ are not necessarily aware of the conventions that they skilfully manipulate, focused on meaning as they are. Intuitively speakers nevertheless select the linguistic forms that are most effectively used to express themselves. Both producing and understanding creative language use requires a level of consciousness beyond that of ordinary language use. In their introduction to the proceedings of a symposium on ‘linguistic play’ Kirshenblatt-Gimblet & Sherzer (1976:2) contend: “Basic to speech play is the expressive, stylistic potential of language, which requires recognition of language structures as embodying a variety of functions [… in relation] to patterns of speaking of the community in question.” This recognition raises the awareness of language users about some structures in their language. Language acquisition in fact exploits this raised awareness. The level of consciousness that is required in special applications of conventions makes speech play very apt for language acquisition. In order to clarify this point I will now refer to various levels of linguistic organisation, including genres. “Creative language use represents an important platform where educative games raise the awareness of the correct use of forms at different levels of linguistic organisation,” Sanches and Kirshenblatt- Gimblet contend (1976:1). Their volume on speech play provides some interesting examples of language games that gradually increase in complexity with the years of linguistic development.20 In language acquisition young speakers learn to copy the appropriate use of linguistic forms. A heightened awareness of the relevant units and their borders enables language learners to learn about these forms. Creative usages of language are helpful in language acquisition because they effectively decompose structures (at respective levels of linguistic organisation) into features that can be practiced separately. Studies on the acquisition of riddling for example (e.g. Bauman 1977) illustrate the gradual acquisition of riddle conventions in North American languages. Biber emphasises the analytical function of games in language acquisition: “Discovery of this pathway of acquisition is of considerable importance because it decomposes the genre into features of structure, content, and function which are otherwise not obvious” (Biber 1994:23). To give an example for English, stories with much repeated quotes provide practice with the use of direct speech, eventually combined with indirect speech reporting. The use of quotes teaches the audience how reported speech is conventionally used in the genres of a language. News reporting may for instance exhibit a particular use of quotes. It relates to the ‘truth value’ of a statement, for a quote from the president is to be taken seriously. Citations in true stories in English often are used to make the narration more vivid and not are necessarily expected to literally record what a person said. Young speakers discover more about the use of a feature while being exposed to jokes, puns, riddles and other language games. They learn to copy the appropriate use of each culturally-specific structure (genres for instance). This copying can be called, in more technical terms, a ‘replication of conventions.’ Next to replication, particular creative usages of language may effect in a delineation of groups who master a certain variation. Adolescents around the world are known to create their own sub-

20Young children seem to be occupied with sounds at a phonological level of a languages organisation (practicing nonsense phrases that abide by the phonological rules of the language (‘gibberish’)). It is noteworthy that children of this age are not interested in adult use of similar nonsense phrases that respect morphological and syntactic rules called ‘jabberwocky’ (de vek blakt mukken in Dutch). Children may practice with either sounds (end rhyme); rhythm (clapping hands); or morphological units (finding homonyms or synonyms for instance) to focus on one aspect of language use at a time in each developmental stage (Saville-Troike (2003:238-43)). The content-related questions that the children are supposed answering at the same time require their full attention. This suggests that this practicing happens at some subconscious level, like in the singing of narrative songs or rhymes that draw attention to the story line. Riddles represent a category of language use that seems to be made for play. In African languages it is often used in contests, where young speakers of a language are rewarded for their competence in several aspects of language use, sometimes practicing collocations for instance. Nursery stories, with their predictability of episodes invite young children to join in with the ‘chorus.’ The playful use of language is effective in language acquisition since it helps learners to distinguish which units are salient for communication. Experimenting with new discoveries, language learners test learning hypotheses, thereby at the same time inviting feed-back with the necessary corrections.

13 systems to guarantee private communication. These sub-systems may consist of an obscure pronunciation of the mother tongue with syllabic reversal or word reversal. Some secret languages consist of the addition of particular phonemes (the ‘o’ language and the ‘p’ language) or of the subtraction of certain phonemes. Sherzer (1976) documents three examples of French ‘verlen’ or ‘larper;’ a ‘backward language’ as it is called in the code itself (instead of parler à l’envers).21 “By throwing sounds into new environments, in which they usually undergo the ordinary morphophonemic rules of the particular language, the play languages provide rich evidence of the kinds of patterned phonetic alternation used by linguists to posit abstract phonemes or morphophonemes” (Sherzer 1976:32).22 Most play languages are used for concealment “and a corresponding delineation of social groups and subgroups, such as Parisian youth gangs23 and Walbiri male initiates” (Sherzer 1976:34). In second-language learning creative processes are also important. Second language learners creatively explore rules that govern the morphology of their language of study. The perceived meaning of a suffix may, for instance, be tested out with self-made words. The next example provides some self- made words that Congolese students developed while being in the francophone environment of their campuses, French being the language of education in Congo. The experimental use of morphological suffixes in these expressions not only reflects attempts to try out how word-building might work in French, it also reflects the playful manner in which the students delineate themselves as educated members of society. Consider the following examples of French suffixation that were integrated in the official language in of the DRC (N’Sial 1993:43):

- ance becqueter- becquetance ‘to snack- the eating of a meal’ faire- faisance ‘to make- the action of making love’ sucrer-sucrance ‘to add sugar – the action of adding sugar’ - ard bruit- - bruillard ‘noise’- ironic reference to ‘noisy person’ directeur- directard ‘director’- ironic reference to ‘a directors title’ - eux/se colonialiste- colonialeux popular reference to ‘colonial agent’ photographe- photoleux popular reference to ‘photographer’ Rwandais- Rwandaleux popular reference to ‘somebody from Rwanda’ tribaliste- tribaleux popular reference an ‘ethnically oriented person.’ - ite cravate – cravatite ‘obsession with wearing ties’ bourse- boursite ‘suffering chronic lack of money as from a ‘bourse’(‘scholarship’) descendre-descendite ‘disease one gets while going down-town (descendre = going down-town)

When replication is creatively altered as in the examples provided here, the altered replication may start to function independently, as a new expression. The creative use of linguistic units for individual goals can be an important arena for language change as was already commented in reference to Biber (1994:27). I will therefore develop the technical details of this example, although it is at the level of word- construction and not genre-innovation, since it illustrates some basic aspects of language change as described in Croft (2000). In the first stage, when the students started to use these expressions playfully, it delineated them as a particular group. Apparently the ‘funny’ words were not as obscure as secret language, for they are now part of the French that is spoken in the DRC, as documented by N’Sial in an assignment from the French government. The examples show how ‘altered replication’ can be adopted as new way

21This term is used in Dubois et al. 1970:65, who according to Sherzer was the first to mention this language. Sherzer further gives examples of five Panaman play languages in Cuna and seven Javanese play languages. These play languages have in common that they require the skilful handling of the syllabic units of a language, thereby raising a certain (semi-) awareness of the (morpho) phonemic rules. 22In Congo Thomas (personal communication) and Kutsch Lojenga commented about play languages, which they ‘consulted’ in equal manner for the analysis of respectively Komo and Ngiti. 23Peter Stratfold told me in personal communication that London’s Cockneys were known to use a similar speech called ‘backslang.’

14 of speaking, provided that the ones who initiated this altered replication are influential in society. Linguistic innovation in general is related to the diversity between groups of members that belong to the same language community. The differences between groups within a language community give rise to the integration of some un-conventional usages of linguistic elements in the system of existing conventions. Playful use of a language forms part of the continuous negotiation between its users, resulting in new conventions for language use. New or borrowed units are integrated into the language when the convention is adopted by the entire community. This requires a period of normalisation or naturalisation of the ‘odd’ element. Before the listed French expressions were integrated in Congolese French, they were used among student populations only. Some kind of consensus needs to be reached about the playful usages of trendy innovations. Only when a considerable number of community members starts to use the expressions in an unmarked way, they can be considered as new conventions that represent ‘naturalised’ language use. Innovations that are adopted as new conventions form part of the changes in a language. Prior to language change, innovations and their effects are ‘tested out’ in an experimental phase. Creativity is instrumental in this phase. Negotiations about language use conventions tend to result in the adoption of one altered replication as the norm. Communities exhibit a natural tendency to select one possible expression as the conventional signal at the expense of all other possibilities. Rwandaleux developed, for instance, as only popular reference to a citizen of Rwanda in Congolese French. This took a long period of time. The social tendency to abide by one convention is called the first law of propagation. It is described in Croft (2000:174) as a process in which the application of an ‘altered replication’ by individual speakers becomes a ‘differentiated replication’, that is accepted by the entire language group. The French Rwandaleux for instance is the popular reference to citizens from Rwanda. It implies a slightly pejorative allusion to scandaleux ‘scandalous,’ as does also colonialeux ‘colonial agent.’ The meaning of selected alternatives develops from the replicated element. Consequently it is to be considered as a ‘differentiated’ meaning, according to Croft. The process of propagation typically extends over many generations; nevertheless sociolinguistic research has demonstrated that it can occur in less than the lifespan of a speaker (Croft 2000:5 refers to Trudgill 1988). The time of the process depends entirely on the intensity of interaction within a community and on its openness to other communities. Croft therefore concludes that the structure of a community that adopts an altered replication as its new convention is as important as the nature of the convention itself. In the following chapter some background information regarding the community of Budu speakers will be provided. Some aspects of creative language use that still need to be discussed relate to the saliency of the expressions that are used. The last example illustrated the use of a second language. Foreign elements play a special role in creative applications when they are borrowed in the own language. They are marked in relation to elements of the own language. Language users tend to be more conscious about borrowed elements, while in fact all linguistic elements can be used creatively. Speakers tend to be less aware of the conventions that are ‘played with’ in the creative use of less salient elements. In contrast, speakers may be aware of the foreign conventions that are creatively used, as in the word formation in the French examples. This is very clear from the following examples of the language use of Mayan Indians as described by Hanks (1987; 1996). In the case discussed by Hanks Mayan scribes did their uttermost to produce a ‘perfect replication’ of the conventions of Spanish letters. In the literate tradition of the Mayan, scribes used to be delegated with all writing tasks. The Indians in the Spanish colony used Mayan in communication with the Franciscans in 1567, when a certain conflict with the Spanish king arose. Hanks (1987; 1996) describes the Mayan in an official appeal addressed to the Spanish king. It is beyond the scope of this introduction to discuss this language use in detail. The features that illustrate my point can nevertheless be mentioned. The letter represents a mixture of Mayan and Spanish conventions for genre use and thereby confused its receptors at the court. Hanks (1996:287-9) interprets the choice of

15 lexico-grammatical elements in the text as authentic Mayan while at the same time it invokes the appearance of the legitimate and authoritative nature of their letters to the Spanish addressee.24 The Mayan writers attempted to make a perfect replication of what they considered to be the appropriate Spanish genre. They literally translated some deictic and relative expressions and they mimicked some habits by replicating signatures, which they placed under the letter. To express their political solidarity with each other, they placed a manifold signature. The letter’s multiple repetitions were interpreted at the court as ‘cut-and-paste’ replications from several Spanish documents at once. An evaluation of the appeal as ‘fraudulent copy’ was reinforced when the Spanish saw many signatures placed underneath the letter. The alterations are evidence of the unavoidable influence of the indigenous language and culture. Unaltered replications seem impossible to produce, even for his Majesty. Blommaert (2002) describes a similar attempt to produce replications of foreign conventions. In this case two employees in the Democratic Republic of Congo were sent money from abroad by their former employers so that they could write an autobiography and a historiography.25 They had no access to concrete textual examples of the acculturated genres and therefore used approximate models like the catechism and the text book. The resulting autobiography was written in Swahili, the historiography in French, which is the language of education. Blommaert makes no mention of the repertoire of oral genres or other aspects of the community of the authors. He only mentions the relative success they had in producing elaborated texts with carefully formulated, detailed information. They in the first place achieved a role as salaried écrivains in their own community, where they replicated the praxis of the foreign genre. Blommaert’s main point is that their success in what he calls the ‘ortho-praxis’ of genre replication stands in no relation to any ‘orthodox’ use of the genres. To underline his point, he mentions several serious errors that nevertheless do not seem to reduce the social roles which the écrivains established. His example does unfortunately, unlike Hanks example, not comment on possible influences from the mother tongue of the Congolese writers. In both examples foreign conventions are imitated in order to make a genre similar to a foreign model. These examples of external influences illustrate that it would be misleading to compare the use of foreign elements with their use in the original language. Features from catechisms and text books are replicated in French and Swahili and characteristics of Spanish letters are replicated in Mayan because the respective genres function as model genres. It is noteworthy that only particular features are replicated. Apparently these are being perceived as the most effective ones, seen from limited exposure to the range of possibilities in respectively French and Spanish. In contrast the authors know a range of possible expressions in their mother tongue. The mother tongue therefore represents a frame of reference from which some foreign features are perceived as more effective than other. Indigenous factors invariably lead to altered replication. Hanks shows how insights in the indigenous conventions for language use make us understand altered replications. Blommaert shows that distortions are irrelevant to the one who borrowed the features. A third example is from De Rooij’s (1996) study of French code switching in Shaban Swahili. The title of his work ‘cohesion through contrast’ summarises why code switching takes place in a Shaban variation of Swahili: the selection of foreign discourse markers is often preferred for its contrast with Swahili. Like speakers of American variations of German, who almost exclusively use American English markers such as You know, well, and because instead of German markers, French function words are frequently used in the Swahili of language users who also know French. French function words highlight the structure of the text because they stand out against the background of Swahili (De Rooij 1996:169,170). De Rooij describes how the French negation ‘non’ is used systematically for turn taking in direct speech in Shaban Swahili (opus cit: 136,137), while que ‘that’ is used more frequently

24Some expressions could be read as literal translation of some Spanish expressions. Especially the use of deictics seems to be inspired by the Spanish and the relative constructions that follow a Maya noun phrase too. 25Tshilumba wrote the historiography to be edited with his paintings that where eventually published by Fabian (1996).

16 introducing direct speech (opus cit: 201,202) than subordinated clauses as such (opus cit: 156-168). These French function words are used in a manner that is non-equivalent to the first language alternatives, as discussed in De Rooij. Although he uses a different terminology, the replication of the French words is in fact a ‘differentiated’ replication.26 While the use of French at first sight seems purely prestige-related, only function words are pronounced in French. In this case the discourse structure of Shaba Swahili seems to determine distortions of the second language. Creative language users seek possibilities to communicate effectively. They may use elements from model genres in foreign languages if that suits their intention, as seems the case in particular genres such as drama.27 Borrowed constructions always reflect indigenous aspects of the mother tongue, since it is the genres in the own language provide speakers with a repertoire in relation to which they exploit foreign elements. As examples from Mayan seem to indicate, speakers evaluate the effectiveness of foreign elements from their own frame of reference. Because each speech community has its own linguistic organisation, borrowed constructions are perceived according to the existing framework of communication in that speech community. In contrast to Hanks, who discussed some features of Mayan, most of the literature on acculturation and related genre modification emphasizes the acculturating culture. An attempt to account for genre-related influence of English as a second language is presented in Romaine (1994). She describes the development of sports reporting in Tok Pisin, a pidgin language in Papua New Guinea in reference to Biber (1988) for comparisons with English sports reporting. Admitting that sports- reporting represents no monolithic category, Romaine makes some generalisations about the apparent influence of English sports reporting.28 Romaine used all texts representing Tok Pisin sports reporting from 1978, when the genre was first used in print,29 until 1990. Based on her diachronic comparison of newspaper reports she concludes that NP modification and the creation of new words reflect English influences. Similar to the findings of Hared (1992) for Somali press registers between 1972-’89, Romaine concludes that the main factors determining developments in the new genre were standardisation and modernisation of communication technologies resulting in an increased lexical elaboration. Biber (1995:360) refers to these studies commenting on the influence of pre-existing models for printed genres. New genres may arise in reaction to foreign models, which consequently need to be considered, is what Biber suggests. Somali and Tok Pisin both have a relatively young tradition of print. They therefore both show how pre-existing foreign models interact with communicative factors reflected in indigenous language use. Somali had no literate tradition of its own until 1972 and was influenced by Arab, Italian and English models for the use of printed genres. Tok Pisin had German and English models to refer to. With the exception of Chinese and Greek, most cultures have not themselves established a literate tradition. They are consequently influenced by the literate tradition in some other language that the community is exposed to. In reference to Greek- and Chinese-oriented languages Biber adds: “It is thus possible that the introduction and subsequent development of the written registers in such situations [where there was neither international communication nor ease of travel] depended to a greater extent on pre-existing

26De Rooij concludes that: “the presence of a phonological shape from a second language in bilingual discourse does not automatically entail that this shape also carries all grammatical properties it has in monolingual L2 discourse. Detailed contrastive studies of the distribution of items in monolingual discourse and the distribution of these forms in code switched speech involving different language pairs with one held constant are needed ...” (1996:202). 27Code switching is cross culturally a well known device used in for instance drama to enlarge the possibilities for expression. Kurtz & Kurtz for example (1998) contend that the mixing of Swahili and English undoubtedly gives the writer Mailu an opportunity for creative expression beyond the linguistic boundaries to which he has previously conformed. This: “illustrates a creative use of code repertoire available to members of a multilingual speech community.” 28Another problem that she does not mention is the influence of German, as the country used to be a German colony before it became a British region, thereby simplifying the complex multilingual situation even further. 29The first oral sports reporting was documented around 1920, Romaine (1994:65).

17 spoken registers than in modern-day language situations influenced by contact with foreign models,” (Biber 1995:361) for written communication. And: ‘’we need empirical investigations of the extent to which the early development of written registers in a language is shaped by the functional and linguistic characteristics of pre-existing foreign models,” (Biber 1995:360). Biber sees the need for investigations. The printing press seems indeed to be a factor that can change genre-related cultural conventions, like other technical innovations. Biber mentions the introduction of page numbers or section heading (1995:239). Yates and Orlikowski (1992) researched the creation of new office genres. They investigated existing genres and new genres by looking at their interrelatedness and described the development of the office memo from the preceding business letter. Changes in correspondence in businesses gave rise to new mutual understandings. Whereas business companies used mainly to correspond with each other, internal business communication increased as the size of the average business grew. The norms for writing business letters were first maintained, then elaborated in an intermediate stage when the format of business letters was extended to be used in internal communications. In final stages, modifications resulted in a new genre, which was the office memo (1992:306 in Mayes 2003). The process starts when the ‘maintenance’ of an existing genre such as the business letter no longer meets the changed conventions for its use, “due to a change of technique” with related changes in culture. Conventions for genre use often change when an external factor introduces new technical possibilities. For instance mail letter writing with the Mayan Indians (Hanks 1986) and newspaper printing with the speakers of Tok Pisin in Papua New Guinea (Romaine 1994). It nevertheless seems easy to underestimate cultural changes that precede technical innovations, like the growth of companies and the organisation of colonial sports manifestations. Budu is a language in its early stages of literacy use. Its official orthography was only established in 1996 and its first printed material was produced in 1998. In the following chapter some background information regarding the relevant foreign languages with literate tradition will be provided. However, rather than investigating the linguistic and functional characteristics of Arab, Swahili, Bangala and French in comparison to Budu, I will investigate the indigenous factors related to creative innovations. Foreign models may explain some elements that were adopted in Budu language use. They do not explain why those particular features where adopted rather than any other. Whereas, an investigation of the role of adopted elements in indigenous language use, may shed light on the reason why this element seemed attractive to use. The investigation of indigenous language use not only has more explanatory power since it explains selection, it also is easier than a fourfold analysis of all foreign languages with an existing literate tradition in Budu history. On top of that it avoids the risk of overestimating mere technological aspects of language use. In this research I follow the ethnomethodological assumption30 that language use is a manifestation of social structure. In the Boasian tradition31 language is studied as one of all possible manifestations of social structure. The use of the main clusters observed in the researched corpus can be considered to reflect the most important dimensions of communication or the ‘emic contrasts,’ that, together, manifest the social structure of a culture. In Korean, for instance, honorific expressions are used to express deference to the addressee or the person spoken about. They co-occur with humble references to the first and second person and foster social personhood in Korean. One cluster of expressions related to honorification is a dimension of communication in Korean (Biber 1995:202). In interpretations of linguistic innovations modern genres, I will refer to the main dimensions of variation in

30For example Malinowsky (1923); Hymes (1982) analysis of speaking in s.p.e.a.k.i.n.g. (setting; participants; ends; act; key; instrument; norms of interaction and genre and with elements of communication as analysed by Saville-Troike (1982)). 31Foley mentions Boas (1911); Sapir (1949) and Whorf (1956) as the most important leading scholars in this relativist school, with Lucy (1992); Gumperz and Levinson (1991) and Silverstein (1976, 1979; 1981, 1985) as later representatives (Foley 1997:214).

18 Budu. In order to interpret the cultural aspects of these dimensions I refer to the existing literature on this subject. The rest of this section indicates which concepts I hope to include in my analysis of creative innovations in Budu. The assumption that language is a manifestation of social structure is related to Giddens ‘structuration theory’ in sociology (1984). Human beings remember certain structures and instantiate structure in social practices (cf. Bailey 1985:15). Social structure “therefore is in a sense more internal than exterior to their activities” (Giddens 1984:25). The meaning of utterances is not pre-existing, it is the cumulative effect of the ongoing situation. This includes the language use and the negotiation of meaning as represented by altered replication. Emerging knowledge is activated by recurrences of similar situations. Emerging knowledge reflects the social structure in which it is produced. This was made clear from the Mayan and French examples with social roles that ‘emerged’ from the creative attempts of scribes and teachers who are using a foreign genre. The authors of those particular texts were aware of these models. In contrast, most creative language is used while those involved remain virtually unaware of the features of genres that are exploited. Genre modification may arise in relation to social structures, which members of a community take for granted. Their linguistic activities automatically arise from the desire to maintain the social structure. The strategy which is responsible for such linguistic activities can be compared to other survival strategies that are learnt very young: it goes unnoticed. This can be compared to what Giddens calls ‘monitoring.’ Patterns of features are constantly monitored by language users in (sub)conscious ways (see for example Giddens 1984:50). This monitoring enables language users to adjust their utterances to eventual changes in the situation. Monitoring may operate at a practical level without being verbalised. Practical monitoring occurs subconsciously. Giddens calls one level at which adjustments are made the ‘unconscious social self.’ Unconscious is the inaccessible social self that is fostered through routinisation to develop ontological security and preserve the face of others (1984:50). Similar to bed-time routines that foster trust with young children, expectations regarding language use are fostered. Relating social structures are cultivated to preserve ‘the social personhood’32 of language users. Our choice of words and the language used by others may modify our social personhood, since it is a linguistic construction that arises in interaction. Language use reflects the culturally specific ways in which ‘face threatening’ situations are handled. This cultural structuration concerns the entire society and therefore it is influential as an internal factor that determines the adoption of new conventions. In researching creative language use I will therefore look at linguistic strategies that arise in attempts to ‘save face,’ as this seems representing an indigenous factor for change. Another internal factor for change seems related to the shared knowledge of language users. This plays a role in the cultural organisation of a community and its (linguistic) conventions. Social institutes, in which genres play an important role, contribute in essential ways to the linguistic and cultural organisation of a language community (Giddens 1984). Their centrality follows from their role in transmitting knowledge and organising power in a society.33 Consequently linguistic systems are interdependent on the organisational structures that they help to maintain. Languages consequently keep changing in changing circumstances, as results from corpus linguistic research in natural language

32The social personhood is called, in theoretical terms, ‘face.’ It was developed by Brown and Levinson (1987) from a term introduced by Goffman for ‘‘the public self image that every member wants to claim for himself’’ (1967:61). Social harmony is typically related to group solidarity in some societies; or as Brown and Levinson describe it, positive politeness strategies are important in order to help community members preserve their social personhood (1987:101-29). 33It is mentioned in Street (1993) and (1995) that these two factors of language use variation are important. This so called ‘ideological’ literacy view is expressed in reaction to the ‘autonomic literacy’ in which literacy practices are seen as independent from social organisation. Street advocates the ‘ideological’ determination of literacy, since he sees internal ideologies and the own world view as more important for the use of language than technologies.

19 use make clear. It therefore seems important to include changes in Budu social institutes in my investigation of creative genre features, especially when they pertain to transmitting knowledge and organising power in Budu society. Creativity is responsible for attempts to modify language for certain effects. These effects may represent individual needs or social activities. In both cases creativity contributes to ‘altered replication,’ even when speakers do their utmost to make perfect replications of a genre. Language users may delineate themselves by this altered replication in such an attractive way that others adopt the same altered replication. The form starts to lead a life of its own and results in a ‘differentiated meaning’ that replaces all other possibilities. Although creativity is related to the individual frame of reference of language users, it may extend its repertoire by adopting expressions from a foreign language. This happens especially when foreign genres represent a model that is absent in the language group. Although Biber suggests an investigation of the influence of foreign linguistic and functional characteristics, this dissertation chooses rather to investigate the relation between genre modification and indigenous factors of change. Biber (1994:27) mentions the individual manipulation of genre conventions as an important source of change.34 Once a model genre is imitated, a strong trigger for the modification of such borrowed ‘model’ genres may be that they include culturally less-acceptable expressions of communicative intentions. This is the case when replication of model genres results in language use that has particular connotations in the indigenous language. Other internal factors that may determine creative genre modifications seem to be changes in social institutes and social roles. Social personhood and related linguistic strategies, for instance in politeness, are important too (Brown and Levinson 1987). While the social structure of a community is observed in daily interactions, the social structure of a culture is manifest in its language. I will therefore investigate Budu language use and compare its dimensions of communication with my observations and informal interviews from my 24 month’s stay in Budu area over ‘95/ ’96 and ‘97/’98. Those frequent forms that seem related to foreign influences in modern genres need to be compared with their occurrence in older genres. I hope to discover reasons for the accommodation of some forms that were selected from all other possible expressions.

1.5 Genre Theory and Creative Innovations

In the following section some insights from genre theory are discussed to see where the proposed approach needs to be adapted. My main question is whether the approach to creative language use can depend on a multidimensional approach with emphasis on two main triggers of modified language use, namely individual manipulation of language and changes related to the shared social knowledge, as discussed in the previous section. Berkenkotter and Huckin (1995) presented an important study concerning the development of academic genres. Their work suggests that genres, more than any other level of linguistic organisation, form a platform for negotiation. Creativity at both social and individual level is instrumental in this negotiation. Genres represent socio-cognitive realities that are dynamic enough to allow for continuous modification. Berkenkotter and Huckin (1995) made an attempt to interpret the entire process of genre

34Similar to the motivation behind the development of euphemisms for ‘water closet’ or ‘W.C’, some genre modifications may arise from the need to hide overt persuasion or other taboo purposes that speakers may express with texts (cf. Halmari and Virtanen 2005). Advertisements for financial investments are usually accompanied by warnings about the fluctuating values of stock. Like health warnings on boxes of cigarettes, these warnings cannot change in form because of legal prescriptions. The radio advertisements for financial investments therefore creatively raised the tempo and intonation in which the obligatory warning is read aloud. This change of form suggests a change of meaning. Probably the warning is intentionally presented as entertainment by its ironical declamation. All linguistic units develop cultural connotations and changes in meanings that may therefore contribute to changes in use and eventually in form.

20 modification rather than the cognitive level at which ‘prototypical texts are produced and reproduced’ (1995:5).35 For an understanding of the operational level of this negotiation, I will therefore look at several conclusions reached in other literature on Genre. As we use language, we constantly exploit the way others have used language in a process that can be either called ‘recurrency’ (Giddens 1984), or: ‘reproduction’ (Bakthin 1986), or ‘replication’ (Croft 2000). Our language thereby reflects the voices of others and includes familiar ways in which others have indicated social purposes with their text use. In Russian literary criticism this ‘dialogic’ nature of language use was analysed by Bakthin (1981; 1986). He interpreted developments of literary genres from the epic to the novel as result of the development of the gradually modified use of recurring genre features. In daily conversation speakers directly react to the situation of use, resulting in songs, oaths, requests etc. These are the primary genres of a language. The same genres can be exploited in more complex texts such as the sermon, the epic, the report etc. An oath that occurs in reported speech in an epic conveys the expression of commitment of the characters in the story. Embedded genres portray the character (in relation to what follows in the story) as either a liar or as a sincere character. In contrast to the primary oath, such embedded oaths are used by the narrator to portray, rather than to commit him or herself as a speaker. Primary genres consist of one social practice, whereas secondary genres combine two or more primary ones. This difference between primary and secondary genres in Bakthin's writings was an important tool in later Genre analysis.36 It clarified the complexity of the dynamics involved in modified genre use. Communicative practices with a modified usage are reflected in genres. These modifications emerge from their intertextuality that is consciously manipulated by artful narrators. The ‘differentiated replication’ of genres and their dynamic nature was discussed in Russian literary criticism in terms of the literary criticism called formalism. Only some decades later lower-level units of communication were discussed in evolutionary theories about language change and related to propagation.37 Although genres represent a level of communication that facilitates conscious reflection on the part of the researcher who is interested in the development of modified usages, genres at the same time are organised at a level of linguistic organisation which, by its operation at text and even intertextual level, is opaque.38 This opacity, in combination with the potential of genre features to be borrowed across languages makes the technical investigation of genre-related changes of language use a complex issue that was avoided until corpus linguistic techniques made it possible to quantify more complex correlation patterns. There is general agreement that genre features operate in co-occurrences at text level. In analyses of genre development, configurations of multifunctional features from interrelated levels need to be explained. Such configurations represent a complex area, in which incidental changes of use emerge as genres are altered in recurring situations. In order to discuss these configurations, many genre theorists have taken the social reality as their point of departure. Social and cultural factors that determine the development of genres seem endless. Whereas anthropologists Bauman and Briggs (1990:64) discuss ways in which the “social capacity of particular

35The five features of genres that are emphasised by Berkenkotter and Huckin (1995) are dynamism, situatedness, embeddedness in form&content, duality of structure and community ownership. 36It was adopted without criticism although Hanks comments: “The difference simplifies primary genres as if they never could be multifunctional,” (1996: 243). 37Croft (2000) chapter seven discusses Labov 1963, Lewis 1969, Guilbert 1965, Brown and Gilman 1960. 38All propagation processes discussed in Croft’s framework on language change (2000) start with the innovation lower-level linguistic unities. The historic and cultural characteristics of sounds, phonemes, morphemes, syntactic constituents and pragmatic constructions can be interpreted in analysing language change, focusing on changed features at these levels. Such changes in language-use concern particular features, therefore the analysis is directly related to these particular units. In contrast, genre modification occurs at a level where the relationship between different elements with different functions, plays a role, simply because these features in all their variety co-occur distinguishing the genre.

21 genres and the relationship between genres” are patterned: namely “in ways that shape and are shaped by genre, social class, ethnicity, age, time, space and other factors”, the leading New Rhetoric’s Miller goes one step further and describes genres as bearers of “knowledge of the aesthetics, economics, politics, religious beliefs and all the various dimensions of what we know as human culture.”(1994:69). Culturally relevant aspects of language use are defined in this theory as “a set of particular social patterns and expectations that provides a socially objectified motive” (Mayes 2003:36). These patterns can be compared cross-culturally as strategies that solve universal problems. If language is considered from this solution-oriented perspective, each society represents an indigenous set of issues that are seen as problems. Luckmann contends (1992:228 in Mayes 2003) “The communicative problems for which such solutions are socially established and deposited in the social stock of knowledge tend to be those which touch upon the communicative aspects of those kinds of social interactions which are important for the maintenance of a given social order.” Since each society represents a different social order, each language is unique in its linguistic organisation into genres. Together its genres form a stock of known solutions, or as Bergmann and Luckmann refer to it genres form a ‘communicative budget.’ This budget consists of ‘families’ of genres (Bergmann and Luckmann 1994:88). The weak point of this approach seems that a rather subjective interpretation of ‘problem-solving strategies’ is taken for its point of departure (Mayes compares Japanese and American cooking lessons for instance by considering the positioning of the furniture and the interaction).39 Nevertheless, Bergmann and Luckmann with their approach seem to explain some aspects of the family resemblance between genres. Quite a few genre-theorists study genre-related language use by merely looking at social structures, going from the context to the text. Other genre theorists rather go from the text to the context. They take language use as their point of departure and interpret the context in which genres of particular texts are produced. Virtanen and Halmari contend: “As language users we have expectations that help us to process texts, negotiate for meaning and adapt to new situations,” (2005:10) stressing that, though expectations may be rather abstract, they are nevertheless expressed in actual texts that manifest configurations of concrete linguistic features, which can be studied. In ethnolinguistic work linguistic differences in speech styles formed an important part of the cultures that needed to still be described. Genres were approached as a constellation of systematically related, co-occurring formal features and structures that contrast with other such constellations (Ervin-Tripp 1972; Hymes 1989 [1974] in Bauman 2001:58). The relation between ‘talk and action’ was considered important and therefore Gumperz contends in his book Language and social identity that co-occurrence expectations “are learned in the course of previous interactive experiences and form a part of our habitual and instinctive linguistic knowledge” (1982:153). This is not a passive knowledge, as he continues to explain on page 162: “Co-occurrence expectations enable us to associate styles of speaking with contextual presupposition. We regularly rely upon these matching procedures in everyday conversation. Although they are rarely talked about and tend to be noticed only when things go wrong, without them we would be unable to relate what we hear to previous experience.” Whether genre theorists focus on the textual features of genres or on contextual characteristics, there seems to be an agreement in the literature about the ability of language users to select or recognise the appropriate genre. By this selection, language users silently express their definition of the social situation in which they communicate. Throughout the literature on the subject, genre theorists keep referring to ‘patterns’ of meaning and of language use. While several authors concentrate on reasons why genre features are hard to isolate40 and retrieve to the observable reality of social context,

39Mayes’ (2003) well documented study accounts for the selection of her three points of comparison: setting, social position and activity, which remain, in my view, prone to subjective interpretations of the context. 40Because of its versatile and dynamic nature, it can be hard to relate single features of language use to genres. Fairclough (1992) mentioned the interdiscursivity of some texts. There are multiple song types that all belong to the same discourse type of songs, while nursing songs, mourning songs and flirting songs represent completely different communicative events. These songs nevertheless exhibit considerable interdiscursivity in most

22 others explore the possibilities of quantitative research. These provide them with countable results of the interplay between text and context.41 Language users engage in social interaction and therefore their genre selection can be considered as a socially acceptable way to define the social situation. Speakers intent to use language in such ways that it facilitates genre recognition and therefore complex conventions are expressed in obvious patterns.42 My main question regarding genre theoretical insights was whether the approach to creative language use could depend on a multidimensional approach with emphasis on two main factors that seem to relate to modified language use, namely individual manipulation of language and changes in relation to the shared social knowledge which language represents. In the literature about genre development there is no agreement about the linguistic aspects of these two main factors. This is problematic since a central concept is needed to approach the non-conventional use of single genre features objectively, especially in cross-linguistic research, where the researcher has a perspective biased by her or his own social knowledge. Genres represent social knowledge and sometimes the use of a single genre feature, by its co-occurrence with other features, may give rise to a surprising effect in which some knowledge is evoked. The analysis of various cultural and social factors of genre development contributed to an even better appreciation of the complex relationship between single genre features and social knowledge. In contrast to the obvious correlation between language use and social situation, single linguistic forms are not easy to isolate as features of single genres. In the discussed case studies, single features seem to function as trigger that evokes a certain model genre. Although genre-theoretical studies provide valuable insights into the cultural factors that seem to be involved, none seems concerned about the operational aspects of the involved dynamics. There are several aspects of the dynamics of genres which obscure the operational level at which modifications take place. Next to the possibility for genres to be embedded in other genres that were discussed above, the shared distribution of forms over groups of genres is one reason why genre- distinctive features are not so easy to isolate. Genres represent classes of communicative events that are manifest in prototypical text use (for instance stories) without strict borders. Rather than categories genres represent a continuous range with fluid borders (Swales 1990:58; Miller 1984). Biber’s work (1995) illustrates that multiple dimensions overlap within one genre. This implies that co-occurrences of linguistic features of more than one cluster are used to distinguish a genre. One and the same text may therefore reflect more than one communicative dimension. Biber summarises his findings (1995:357) as follows: “the linguistic variation among the texts of a language constitutes a continuous multidimensional space, and text types are dense concentrations of texts within that space. It is theoretically possible for a text to represent any combination of linguistic characteristics from multiple dimensions.” In theory one can imagine a continuous space of variation. In actual languages the dense concentrations of texts of particular genres suggests some text prototypes that can nevertheless be identified. Prototypical text types can be defined for a genre, based on their prototypical combinations of clusters. Conventional language use is represented by texts that remain close to the prototype. However: “In between these prototypes, there are particular texts that combine functional emphases and linguistic forms in complex and relatively idiosyncratic ways. These texts are not aberrations; rather, they reflect the fact that speakers and writers exploit the linguistic resources of their language in a continuous manner.” Biber seems to imply that non-conventional language use can be languages. Hyman used the term ‘metaphrasis’ to refer to the embedding of genres mentioned as (Hyman 1975) in Virtanen and Halmari (2005:10), and Bhatia 1993:13 mentions the problematic distinction between main genre and subgenre. 41Nattinger and DeCarrico (1992), Swales (1981; 1987), and Stubbs (1996) use, for instance, corpus linguistic techniques to exploit lexicalisation patterns for the teaching of English as second language. 42Mayes (2003:37) refers to Hymes (1962; 1974), Levinson (1979), Gumperz (1982), Duranti (1985); Swales (1990); Bhatia (1993) and Bazerman (1988; 1994).

23 best compared with conventional language use in an analysis of the creative exploitation of linguistic resources. Non-conventional language use may seem to be an aberration in that it exploits a single feature in unexpected manner. From what Biber says about such aberrations, it seems that they can be best described in relation to the prototypes. This cognitive concept seems to represent the operational level that is needed for further interpretations of creative language use.

1.6 Cognition and Creativity

Genre development seems to depend on human creativity, which continuously exploits cognitive prototypes that are represented in language as in other cultural conventions. The impact of a creative use of genre conventions seems to depend on the representation of cognitive realities. Therefore some background information regarding several theoretical concepts, as developed in cognitive psychology, ethnolinguistics and in the study of literature, seems helpful at this point. My conclusion is, that reference to the so called ‘ongoing input principle’ seems to explain the operation of single genre features as enaction of prototypical genres. To explain this operation as I envision it in relation to an MD-approach of the Budu corpus, the notion of ‘prototypes’ and that of ‘frames’ is also discussed in this section. The problem discussed in this section is the possibility to use single genre features creatively to activate social knowledge. First, the selection of some features that, apparently are the most apt to trigger social knowledge, needs to be explained. Analyses of allusions such as Bauman (2001) seem to focus selectively on the features that are used while they fail to explain why other possible forms are not involved in allusions in the same situation. Second, it seems problematic that the most fragmentary allusion suffices to invoke social knowledge considering the absence of any direct correlation between context and text. Bakthin referred to the criteria that determine whether a text counts as complete or not with the notion of ‘finalisation’ (Bakthin 1986:76). The reference to a genre can be considered as complete when the basic requisites of the genre are present in a text, according to Bakthin. Bakthin emphasises the dynamics of what he calls ‘the dialogue of different genre distinctions.’ He refers to the presupposed interaction between various features that together form the basic requisites, which in the MD approach of Biber would be called the co-occurrence pattern of features in texts. How do the dynamics of co- occurrence account for the possibility that only partial references to a genre trigger associations with the knowledge, which the genre represents, at an operational level? Giddens structuration theory (1984) explains that language users attempt to match a text with other texts in the language in the process of determining its genre. In that process they seem to depend on their larger frame of reference, which seems to consist of the entire repertoire of possible language use. Within that larger frame of reference, some prototypical text examples are used as points of reference. Language users seem to use these prototypical examples, against whose characteristics they keep matching other possible examples of a category. Subconsciously, a constant attempt is going on to determine what possible patterns of language use they are exposed to. This matching enables language users to make an estimation of the expectations expressed to them. In this operation, the notion of prototypes accounts for the perception of yet undefined types of texts. New texts tend to be understood in terms of their family resemblances with existing prototypes, as the prototype theory predicts. The most recurrent and most accessible text categories are used for reference. Seeming ‘aberrations’ from this prototype are interpreted as texts from the category that they most resemble, as suggested in Biber’s quote at the end of previous section (1995:357). The MD approach results in continuous ranges, along which various prototypical and less prototypical genres can be ranged. The notion of blurred edged categories is central to the concept of prototypes (cf. Labov 1972), as it is to Biber’s notion of situation-bound text varieties.

24 In order to address the problem first mentioned in the introduction, some insights regarding genres are now discussed. This problem was that the selection of some features that, apparently are the most apt to trigger social knowledge, is not yet explained. The concept of prototypes is central in the approach that I will now follow. The prototype43 was introduced in psychology for those concepts that are designable by words in natural languages. Concepts not necessarily cover all of the physical features of an object. Because the essential features are accessible to human perception, prototypes can be indicated by cues. They consist of the better exemplars of the concept cues. Special features are crucial to the reactivation of the notion. Rosch’s (1977) research in cognitive psychology concluded that categories or concepts can not be reduced to the sum of simple components. “They rather depend on a prototype that is conditioned by sociocultural factors. This, plus the notion of family resemblances, (Wittgenstein 1953) allows language users to see instances as more or less typical instances of a particular category (Anderson 1985)” Paltridge (1997:53) in his summary about the importance of prototypes in the development of genre theory. In this section I heavily rely on Paltridge’s summary without further references. Prototype recognition depends on family resemblances of less typical categories. These types may resemble the prototypes by several of their features. For resemblances between genres the family relationship between sets of genres was mentioned by Bergmann and Luckmann (1994:88). In an MD approach quantitative similarities between co-occurrences in genres of one dimension account for their distinction as sets of genres with shared function. Also the frequency, appearance and function of a category, together with perceptual, social or memorial salience of the categories may contribute to the development of a prototype (Aitchinson 1987 in Paltridge 1997:56). The concept of ‘prototype’ can be applied to language use in texts, as Biber’s quote illustrated in previous section (1995:357). This language use consists, in terms of the MD approach, of a prototypical co-occurrence pattern that is distinctive for a particular genre. The remarks about the factors that affect the recognition of prototypes are now applied to co- occurrences. Aitchinson (in Paltridge 1997:56) mentions three main factors that facilitate the recognition of a prototype: frequency, salience and function, about which the following remarks can be made. First, if an altered co-occurrence pattern is used frequently, the users of a language will eventually start to refer to it as one of all possible usages of the language and connect it with the situation in which it keeps recurring, even when it shows no resembles with other categories, since by then it will have become the ‘norm’ for this situation. Frequency of situation-bound recurrences is important, since it engrains the social expectation until this becomes easily accessible and can be referred to with minimal reference to the features. Patterns are recognised when they occur frequently. If a community is frequently exposed to a certain way of handling recurring situations, this situation-bound recurrence is more easily recognised and might be adopted as new convention. This explains the selection of English loanwords in Tok Pisin sports reports for instance. Second, the saliency of a pattern may facilitate its development as convention. Aitchinson (in Paltridge 1997: 56) mentions three possible aspects of this salience: memorial, perceptual and social salience. If a certain co-occurrence pattern is engrained in the public memory because it marks a historical situation, it may become popular to use it. Patterns are recognised when they appeal to public memory. In Congo the use of features of scouts songs and military parades in political songs during Mobutu’s reign contributed to the development of national song types in popular music (Gondola 1997:71). Very similar to memorial salience is perceptual salience. If a new way of presenting information is easy to digest, it will be stored in the memory of language users as a good option. An altered co- occurrence pattern with sound effects or other mnemonic aids draws attention as it stands out against

43Rosch continued the work of the psychologist Bartlett (1932) who used the word ‘frame’ for active developing patterns. Recall is a dynamic process as Paltridge summarises it (1997:53).

25 unmarked utterances. This explains for instance the use of French function words in some Shaban Swahili genres (De Rooij 1996). These words are salient and easy to remember as markers of text structure. Such language use will facilitate the development of a prototype. Perceptual salience of an altered co-occurrence pattern exists in changed circumstances, where genres with a different presentation of information are perceived as easier to digest than information in previous genres. This may be the case in drama or audio drama, where stories are presented in an even more scenic way than in most African storytelling sessions. Patterns are recognised as prototype when they have perceptual benefits. Social salience pertains to instant effects, like privileges or wealth that seem to be obtained by the use of prestigious forms. Language that is associated with television ads for luxury items is often associated with access to, or promises about a certain lifestyle. Its social salience favours the engrainment of its patterns of co-occurrence. Patterns are recognised when they are socially salient. Third, the function of a new co-occurrence pattern determines its development as a new convention. In changing social circumstances, the existing repertoire of genres may lack a category with a similar function. When this is the case, a new prototype will develop rapidly to meet the changed needs of the society. Patterns are recognised when they are obviously needed to fulfil a certain function. This may explain the rise of drama in urban societies in Congo, where only a few remember the traditional stories that filled a role in the village community in bringing its members together for story telling sessions, for instance. The function of a pattern seems to be related to the existing repertoire of genres. Against the repertoire of all possible genres particular co-occurrences are easily recognised by their appearance, like in material culture. If an altered co-occurrence pattern represents a ‘striking appearance’ (Aitchinson 1987 in Paltridge 1997:50) in relation to the repertoire, it is easy to access and this will contribute to its development as prototype. Patterns are recognised when their appearance is striking. Insights regarding the development of prototypes add some factors to the list that was made during previous sections. Individual manipulation and changes in relation to the social knowledge were two indigenous factors resulting in creative expression as mentioned in earlier sections. In the present section perceptual salience of a co-occurrence pattern and its family resemblance with existing patterns can be added to the list. The family resemblance seems related to the function and appearance of a pattern in relation to the existing repertoire of genres. These points seem to represent operational factors determining genre modification. The other points mentioned in relation to the recognition of prototypes seem related to the tempo at which prototypes develop, without per se adding new indigenous triggers for genre development. They are firstly frequent exposure to altered replication; secondly exposure to socially salient co-occurrence patterns, whether prestigious or pejorative; and thirdly the introduction of co- occurrences with memorial salience seem all three related to the previously mentioned first factor of individual manipulation. All three have been exploited in commercial advertisements and ideological indoctrination for their known effect in accelerating the spread of a new convention. The rest of this section addresses the second problem that was mentioned in the introduction. This problem was that the most fragmentary allusion suffices to invoke social knowledge considering the absence of any direct correlation between context and text. In order to investigate this problem, I will discuss the notion of ‘frames.’ Prototypical language use can be seen as a manifestation of social knowledge in a so called cognitive frame. Schank and Abelson (1977)44 use the concept ‘knowledge schema’, to explain the relation between stored information and verbalisation (Paltridge 1997:50 refers to Chafe 1980; 1994 and to Fillmore 1975)). Fillmore (1975) calls knowledge schemata ‘frames’ or ‘sets of linguistic possibilities that are associated with particular types of events.’

44With the ‘restaurant’ script or schema, Schank and Abelson (1977) illustrated the importance of mental schemata for the handling of information in linguistic interaction, as Ensink and Sauer (2003:5) mention.

26 The notion of frames is helpful in the analysis of less conventional recurrences of genre-related language. A genre is oriented to the production and reception of particular kinds of texts. However, since a text is “a bounded, formally regimented, internally cohesive stretch of discourse that may be lifted out from its immediate discursive environment and recontextualised in another”, to use Bauman’s words, “its generic language use may also be ‘reframed’ by another stretch of text” (Bauman 2001:58). In that case the ‘key’ to understanding such stretches of text is re-used in a new context. This ‘key’ concept was introduced by Gumperz (1982) as a contextualisation cue that enables language users to interpret the meaning of a text in a certain situation. Because social knowledge is stored in genre- related language use (as was previously explained) it necessarily provides ‘interpretation cues’ to unlock this knowledge. Bauman and Briggs (1992) suggested that these cues be interpreted as ‘framing devices,’ since these keys clarify to which knowledge frame a stretch of text refers. This terminology was developed in ethnolinguistics in order to account for the relation between different performances. Similar to dance, wailing and musical performances, linguistic features are considered to invoke, by their familiarity, a cognitive ‘world’ that is created by the interaction in performances. Language use and other cultural manifestations may represent altered replications of prototypes. Bauman and Briggs (1992) introduced the term ‘entextualisation’ to refer to the manifestation of generic conventions in the actual use of language. Proverbs have a rather rigid entextualisation, while some story genres may represent the opposite. Framing-devices in the text represent interpretation cues that recur in various ‘entextualisations’ of the same genre. The notion of entextualisation made it possible to interpret effects of altered replication in relation to genres. I will now attempt to clarify how these concepts are used to analyse the dynamic nature of genres. In the reframing of a genre, the effect of framing devices is altered. This effect was described by Bauman (2001), for instance, in terms of allusions to texts. In his analysis of the language used by market salesmen in Mexico, Bauman (2001) attempted to advance from the interpretation of the process of entextualisation as presented in Bauman and Briggs (1992). He studies what happens if there is a ‘gap’ between a prototypical use of genre conventions and a real text. To explain the exceptional use of allusions to radio advertisements by a salesman on the Mexican market, Bauman suggests that this way of selling luxury plates is related to the item for sale: plates are not durable luxury items. Plates in themselves are cheap and require a ‘cheap’ selling genre. However, when a vendor of luxury items sells them, he bridges the gap between his ‘cheap’ selling style and the relatively luxury plates by what Bauman calls a ‘calibration’ strategy. By his allusions to glamorous advertisements the vendor compensates the impression that the plates are cheap. This example illustrates the vagueness involved in Bauman’s selective interpretation of features in language use. Calibration nevertheless seems a helpful notion to explain text strategies that may arise when language is not used prototypically. For a more precise linguistic analysis of texts with ‘mixed genre use,’ it seems to be helpful to distinguish between interactive and cognitive frames. Levinson (1979) was the first to suggest that activity types could be associated with linguistic structures co-occurring with it, in reference to ‘interactive frames.’ The notion of interactive frames can be understood as specific knowledge about the norms for interaction in a culture.45 The ethnolinguist Hanks uses this cognitive information to explain the influence of Spanish on Mayan documents. Hanks calls social interaction ‘local knowledge’ and suggests that it updates the ‘knowledge schema.’ Hanks (1996:233) emphasises the importance of emerging aspects “that come into being during interaction.” Not only the prototypical co-occurrences of situational features of communicative practices, but rather “the ongoing tension between schematic and emergent aspects (none as complete as a type) accounts for regularity and novelty, reproduction and production” in his view. This is similar to considering allusive genre features as triggers of secondary frames of reference. In terms of an MD approach the use of a linguistic form may instantiate the dimension that is

45Both Mayes (2003:35) and Paltridge (1997:50 cite Fillmore 1976) suggesting that interactive frames and knowledge or cognitive frames should be considered as interrelated.

27 associated with it by co-occurrence patterns even in the absence of most forms of that cluster in a particular text. This happens in creative language use where cognitive frames seem to be represented by clusters of linguistic features, while interactive frames seem to be represented by prototypical genres. The main genre of language use may represent a ‘normal’ conventional or prototypical text, while creative allusions in that text at the same time refer in an unconventional, creative way to another dimension of communication, by single features. My main point is the linguistic manifestation of cognitive frames in the co-occurrence of linguistic features. If frames are manifest in fixed clusters of co-occurrence the reference to single features may, in some cases, suffice to instantiate certain associations, with, for instance legitimate power, as in the Mayan example. This can be explained as an effect of the ‘ongoing input principle’ that is related to the perception of frames, as will be explained now. “The most powerful aspect of frame theory is undoubtedly that it accounts for the principle of ‘continually available input’” (Ensink and Sauer 2003:5):46 “processes of human perception and comprehension do not need complete data in order to yield coherent and interpreted output.” They give the example of visual perception. Whenever we see a vehicle behind a tree, we do not perceive a complete vehicle, but fragments of the front and the backside. We nevertheless do not see the fragmentary parts, we “see” one unified whole car.”47 Similarly, patterns of linguistic co-occurrence may be partly used over an entire text, alluding to the embedded use of a particular genre. However, the mature speaker of the language, although not perceiving the unified entire pattern as realised in complete texts representing the genre, perceives an allusion to that genre. The language use in genre allusions triggers a particular genre frame, or the basic requisites of that frame, that make its activation complete. Such fragmentary patterns allude, be it subconsciously, to a specific communicative connotation. This idea is very similar to the idea which was developed in phenomenology by Schutz and Luckmann (1973) who postulated that information about an object is perceived in an on-line fashion, including continuous updates (referred to in Mayes 2003:21) in a process called ‘typification’, where the most relevant and useful concepts are stored in a more permanent way. Thus ‘continuous input of information’ allows us to account also for the operation of genre features in recontextualisation, where they only suggest a genre without fully representing it. While only single features may be used to allude to official documents, for instance, the proper use of these features may instantiate the entire ‘officialness’ that is attached to such documents. This explains the dynamics of English influence in the use of newly invented Tok Pisin words for sports reporting (Romaine 1994). Such words allude to the ‘official’ tone of newspaper language as it existed prior to the development of such reporting in the largest pidgin language of Papua New Guinea. Similarly the use of Spanish linguistic features in Mayan letters alluded to the juridical language in authoritarian Spanish documents (Hanks 1987). It seems that the salience of these contextualisation cues makes them more apt to function as triggers of a frame, since in all these examples loanwords are the most prominent features functioning as contextualisation cues. Cognitive frames represent a useful concept in the analysis of creative genre use in as far as these frames are manifest in formal linguistic features. These frames account for ‘incomplete’ patterns of language use that still are effectively used to activate emerging connotations in the appropriate entextualisation, because they apparently represent the ‘basic requisites’ needed for a complete iconic reference in Bakthin’s terms. The synthesis of ethnomethodology, pragmatics and artificial intelligence gives “due recognition to both the conventional and creative features of natural language use” (Widdowson 1983:77 in Paltridge 1997:51). On top of the disciplines mentioned in the Paltridge quote, the quantitative- comparative approach proposed by Biber (1995) can be effectively used in combination with the ongoing input principle if frames are defined in terms of the linguistic co-occurrences that seem to

46Ensink and Sauer (2003:5) refer to Kuipers 1975; Bobrow & Norman 1975. 47Ensink and Sauer (2003:5) refer to Braddly 1990:335-347; Schank and Abelson 1977.

28 manifest and activate them. It is my hypothesis that such a synthesis would indeed give due recognition to both the conventional and creative features of natural language use, to extend Widdowson's remark just quoted. The use of cognitive frames as a notion in the analysis of generic allusions has the advantage that it can be used in more formal linguistic analyses. In the multidimensional analysis of co-occurrence in the various genres of a language, it may be used to account for less prototypical language use. Some genres are not represented by full texts. They consist of some contextualisation cues that are recontextualised in texts of a different main genre. These single features can not be related to dimensions of communication or even to genres. Single linguistic features can not be associated with single communicative features (there is no such straightforward relation between text and context, as was explained before). Nevertheless single features may be used as framing devices to instantiate a frame by the cue that they give to their original context. In that case they activate an association with a genre that is different from the main genre. Because of the strict conventions that are reflected in co- occurrence patterns, each of the features of a cluster of co-occurrence has “at least some of the functions associated […] with the other features defining a dimension” (Biber 1995:135). Dimensions of communication are more important than single genre distinctions in this approach. In terms of co- occurrence patterns, this implies that only part of a pattern, which contributes to genre recognition, can be used as a contextualisation cue. The principle of continually available input explains the dynamics of partial contributions, that the human mind can digest in the form of fragmented references to ‘frames’ that have social relevance. An approach very close to this one (apart from MD) is presented in Virtanen and Halmari (2005), who elaborate the notion of ‘entextualisation’ that was introduced by Bauman and Briggs (1992). Commenting on their compilation of articles on the topic of ‘persuasion’ they observe that the theory of genre as interpretative frame is a useful notion in explaining linguistic changes represented in texts with persuasion. The volume contains examples of commercial, juridical and business persuasion, where the attempt to change the opinions and behaviour of the addressee(s) is underlyingly present. “Entering into dialogue with the audience forces the author of a persuasive text repeatedly to re-consider the packaging, the linguistic form in which the persuasive message will be wrapped. The composition of the audience –its values, opinions, and worldviews; which will never remain constant – forces the persuader to monitor the text in search of the best possible package that leads to the desired direction.”(Virtanen and Halmari 2005:231). To be effective, language users avoid the explicit formulation of persuasion. Persuasion therefore is a ‘taboo’ goal in communication, which, like euphemisms, keeps being formulated in new ways. Persuasion therefore is an area of language use where changes occur in an ongoing fashion. As soon as a certain form of language is associated with persuasion, it needs to change. The need for new, fresh forms of persuasion may result in generic hybrids (Bauman and Briggs 1992:135) which may result in the birth of a whole new genre. In that process the two notions of interdiscursive gap and intertextual gap, as introduced by Bauman and Briggs (1992) are helpful. In the first place, genres need to look like their generic ‘home’ genre as Halmari and Virtanen (2005:237) call it. They need to resemble their generic prototype. Printed advertisements may be purposely different to hide their persuasive intentions. To do this, advertisers may attempt to maximize the intertextual gap with other ads, to make the readers approach the information with an open mind, without awareness that they are being persuaded (it is not incidental that many societies require newspapers to add the label ‘advertisement’ above their ads, similar to the legal prescription of health warnings in tobacco or alcohol ads). Hybridised genres also need at the same time to remain different from other genres of the language in order to be recognised. The genre therefore ‘maximizes the interdiscursive gap by its entextualisation.’ The gap with other discourses is kept comfortably large to avoid confusion. Under this condition, a genre will pick up a maximum number of characteristics of another genre in the process of entextualisation. Virtanen and Halmari suggest the use of the term ‘intergenre’ for the intermediate hybrid genre that may share features of both the ‘home genre’ and the genre from which it borrows

29 elements. Intergenres may serve the goal of persuasion by ‘selling’ one genre as another one because they are mixing the elements of both. The main genre at the same time retains its identity while the juxtapositioned genres serve the purpose of persuasion. An example is the so called ‘informercial’ ad that is presented like product information while it also attempts to convince the readers to buy the product. Östman (2005) in the same volume (Virtanen and Halmari 2005) presents his analysis of the process by which authors keep the equilibrium between the discursive and the intertextual gap. Since language users intend to persuade with a maximum effect, they will aim for a large intertextual gap (the genre should not look like an ad) and a sufficiently large interdiscursive ad (the ad should not be mistaken as silly nonsense that is merely there for entertainment). The method presented by Östman is developed in earlier work on pragmatic particles and called ‘implicit anchoring.’ The operation of implicitly anchoring linguistic units in texts can, according to Östman, be interpreted with help of three universal parameters, namely cohesion, involvement and explicitness. The same model can be applied to lexical information that signals persuasion. Östman explains how writers avoid the use of explicit collocations that overtly communicate their attempts to persuade. They rather make use of a less obvious type of collocation with not strictly adjacent words (within the five words to its left or right side). Members of such collocations can be considered ‘implicitly anchored’ to other members of the collocation. In contrast to explicitly mentioned persuasion, readers seem unaware of this type of ‘implicitly anchored’ information. Implicit anchoring is a technique still to convey information to the readership without making readers aware of the consistent use of certain collocations. This type of implicit information can only be discovered by corpus linguistic research. Building on his qualitative studies of pragmatic information, Östman applies the same three parameters to interpret the function of the implicitly anchored words which he finds. Östman proposes an approach to collocations that is similar to Biber’s approach. The combination of corpus linguistic research and qualitative research but also the use of parameters is alike. While Östman restricts his analysis to those elements that he preselects from qualitative language use, Biber, by means of quantitative pre-tests, selects his linguistic variables by measuring the most frequent co-occurrences. The strength of Östman approach to less obvious patterns of collocation is its application to patterns of distanced collocation. This approach gives one possible explanation to the question that was mentioned in the introduction to this section: why the most fragmentary allusion suffices to invoke social knowledge. While Östman (2005) explains partial references as a technique that obscures less desired individual manipulation of language such as persuasion, I apply this technique of implicit anchoring to the broader area of social knowledge. Social knowledge may be represented in a less desired way in new genres because of the borrowed features from model genres in a foreign culture. Implicit anchoring seems applied to repair the undesired effects of this borrowing, as I will explain in chapter 8. Östman’s investigation of the kind of linguistic manipulation that makes use of combinatory patterns is similar to my application of the MD approach, except that I do not use a priori established parameters or elements of lexical collocation. I follow Biber in his quantitative pre-work establishing co- occurrence patterns that are distilled from the distribution of individual elements in the different genres of the corpus, and I follow Biber in his functional interpretation of the observed clusters to establish parameters. All the same I interpret the manipulation of single features in a way that reminds of Östman’s ‘implicit anchoring.’

30 1.7 Research Question

The research question which I would like to answer in this dissertation is the following: What relationship can be observed between language use in modern genres and existing patterns of co- occurrence as can be described with an MD approach (Biber 1988; 1995)?48 Can the creative use of genre features be investigated as linguistic change emerging from changed situations of language use?

Related sub-questions are: Which features are shared between older and newer genres of the same dimension, and which features are altered in modern genres of Budu? (in terms of altered patterns of co-occurrence?) In terms of an MD approach to variation this sub-question can also be formulated as: which similarities and differences can be observed between prototypical text-types (Biber 1995:9,10) representing the same dimension of variation?

Continuation: How can an eventual continuation of patterns of co-occurrence in modern genres of Budu be explained by means of Biber’s dimensions of variation?

Change: Which indigenous factors of variation seem to determine possible changes in the language use? Which indigenous factors of variation seem to determine creative modifications of prototypical text types?

Operational changes: Can genre modification be explained as an attempt to facilitate the recognition of new prototypes in terms of resemblance with other text types distinguished for the same dimension of variation? In other words: can developing genres be compared with text- types representing the same dimension of variation?

Manipulation: Is it possible to explain genre modifications alternatively in terms of the desire to obscure communicative intentions (by manipulating entextualisation gaps)?

What would the nature of such altered patterns be? Will observed altered-patterns (of language use) be viable as possible conventions to be adopted in terms of Crofts (2000) propagation? Will genres with modifications be continued as such, including the altered meaning that is conveyed? What is the contribution of procedures in this research to an investigation of criteria for natural language use?

Before I summarise theoretical framework that was used for this research, the expectation that I have about this research can be formulated as follows: With an application of Biber’s (1995) analytical framework for genre analysis, I hope to identify indigenous factors that contribute to the analysis of

48Co-occurrences concern the clustering of forms in their distribution over the main genres of the researched corpus. This clustering reflects culturally-specific dimensions of communication that are distinguished in Budu society, as it does in Korean, Somali, Polynesian Nukulaelae and English (Biber 1995). It also determines what language use Budu speakers expect in a certain genre, and what expectations are played with in creative language use. Because the indigenous framework of clusters with its conventional language use leads to particular expectations regarding communicative intentions conveyed with a text, it may also be used to explain less desired connotations of acculturated language use that might give rise to creative modifications. Therefore a quantitative approach facilitating the postulation of patterns of co-occurrences seems to provide empirical data that are needed for the research of creative use of genre features, while the semantics of text-structural genre features, such as “key lexical items that structure texts,” seem to be of secondary importance for the expectations of language users, as Biber suggests (Biber, Conrad and Reppen 1998:123).

31 linguistic innovation in modern genres emerging in Budu literacy in the Democratic Republic of Congo. In reference to these indigenous factors, I hope to clarify the creative use of single genre features in allusion to strongly established genres. I also hope to explain the selection of particular foreign elements in the development of genres. It is not usual in MD approaches to isolate single features. However, with reference to the ongoing input principle (Ensink and Sauer (2003:5)) and in variation on Östman’s (2005) analysis of implicit anchoring I will attempt to investigate whether it is a fruitful approach to consider the unconventional use of single features in relation to patterns in which these features conventionally occur. As far as I know, other approaches to ‘altered replication’ of genre features do not explain the selection of features in genre modification nor the allusions that can be made by single features.

1.8 Conclusion

Conventional genres of language use can be recognised by their situation-bound nature. Genres can nevertheless also be used outside the situations to which they are bound, especially if this situation needs to be evoked in the mind of the addressee for some reason (Bakthin 1981; 1986). The genre is a platform for linguistic innovation. It manifests the cultural conventions that determine language use more than other levels of linguistic organisation seem to do, because its mere co-occurrences of linguistic forms are related to culturally-specific dimensions in communication, for instance ‘involved versus non-involved’ communication (Biber 1988). Co-occurrence patterns of linguistic forms always represent culturally specific language use. Although some parameters of language use seem to be universal, their linguistic correlations differ for each language (Biber 1995). Co-occurrence patterns are related to frames of cultural knowledge as the parameter of honorification in Korean illustrates, similar to the most important dimension of variation in English that combines parameters of informational focus and non-involvement (Biber 1995). Consequently also changes in cultural, situational and cognitive functions are reflected in genre modifications by linguistic innovations. Some external factors to linguistic innovation are discussed in the literature as language contact (Hanks 1987; 1996; Romaine 1994; Blommaert 2001) and the replication of model genres in societies that have not yet developed particular literate genres. Technical innovations, such as mail services and the introduction of the newspaper, seem to play a crucial role. Hanks (1987; 1996) like Yates and Orlikowski (1992) point at the importance of the existing genres that determine how novelties are accommodated. Biber suggests that a thorough investigation of language use is needed in such cases where genres arise in contact between established literate traditions and languages that take this tradition as model. Especially the linguistic and functional characteristics of the model need to be investigated, in his view. In this dissertation I choose rather to investigate the relation between genre modification and indigenous factors of change. Indigenous factors may explain the selection of features that are replicated in copying the model. They also reveal the role which a replicated genre fulfils, regarding the existing repertoire of genres in a language. More precisely I focus on factors related to patterns of co- occurrence that distinguish genres as they can be deduced from empirical observations with an MD- approach to variation (as in Biber 1988; 1995) and try to relate linguistic innovation of these patterns in modern genres to internal triggers of genre modification. This implies that I investigate the linguistic and functional characteristics of indigenous language use and not of eventual models. Regarding the literature on genre two main factors seem to relate to modified language use, namely individual manipulation49 and changes in relation to the social knowledge shared by its users (Giddens 1984 calls this social structure). The last factor relates to changes in social institutions (cf.

49This is illustrated in several articles in Virtanen and Halmari 2005.

32 Street 1995); changes in social roles and changes in politeness as a linguistic strategy relating to social personhood (Brown and Levinson 1987). These three aspects of social knowledge indicate the kind of cultural conventions in co-occurrence patterns, distinguishing the most important dimensions of communication in a language (for instance honorification). They may represent indigenous factors of change. The language use in the related genres fosters, and is fostered by social structures. Language can thus be used to change social structure just as much as it may reflect changes in social structures. Since the creative use of single genre features relates to entire patterns of co-occurrence, it seems helpful relating it to the frames of knowledge which co-occurrences represent (Bauman and Briggs 1992; Bauman 2001; Gumperz 1982). In anthropology the notion of frames was worked out explaining the use of a single genre feature in evoking social knowledge, as in musical allusions. The dynamics of reframed stretches of language relate to their effect on the addressee. Reframing may cause a text to be so different from other texts of the same genre, that it can almost not be recognised. This is called enlarging the intertextual gap by Bauman and Briggs (1992). It can also result in a text that resembles another genre since it is reducing the interdiscursive gap, to continue this terminology. Creative language use often plays with these effects, obscuring the genre of a text or ‘selling it’ as a different genre (Virtanen and Halmari 2005; Bauman 2001). Regarding literature about the operation of cognitive frames (summarised in Paltridge 1997:1- 29) humans seem able to recognise prototypes from fragmentary representations (Ensink and Sauer 2003:5 call this the principle of ongoing input). Family resemblance is an important factor in the recognition of prototypes (Wittgenstein 1953 in Paltridge 1997:53). For resemblances between genres the family relationship between sets of genres was mentioned by Bergmann and Luckmann (1994:88) in terms of overlapping features. In an MD approach quantitative similarities between co-occurrences in genres of one dimension account for their distinction as sets of genres with shared function. Prototypes are recognised because of their family resemblances. Also their saliency and frequency play a role, together with their function. Creative language use is interpreted in relation to conventional language use. Patterns of language use are recognised because of their family resemblance with prototypical patterns of co- occurrence. Innovative usages of these patterns can eventually lead to language change, with for example new genres. An altered pattern may develop differentiated meaning. This may represent a remaining modification of existing genres. The recognition of modified genres as potential prototypes depends on their frequency, saliency and function as well. Any factor determining linguistic innovation is therefore related to the existing repertoire of genres. Some factors relate to the use of language in a culture, for instance manifesting social structure, indexing social roles, ensuring the dignity of social personhood or expressing other aspects of shared knowledge. Other factors relate to its operation as system that reflects dimensions of communication and that therefore can be manipulated. The creative use of linguistic units for individual goals can be an important arena for language change (Biber 1994:27). The use of a striking pattern of language in verbal art can make a lasting impression on a group of language users, which may start to reproduce it in an attempt to delineate themselves as a group (multiple examples can be found in various passages of Sherzer 1976; 2002). More important to language change are attempts to manipulate communication by creative use of patterns in persuasion, especially if frequent exposure to altered patterns and their salience imprints the memory of the hearers. Patterns that are easily remembered; related to shared history and, that at the same time represent prestige probably will be recognised and replicated. Their altered replication will develop a new, differentiated meaning in its use as new convention (Croft 2000). This process of propagation is facilitated by these operational factors (Paltridge 1997:53). In this chapter the creative use of genre features was introduced as a complex operation, which is related to the co-occurrence of distinctive features in patterns. These patterns develop by convention in each linguistic community. Each language group has its own patterns of co-occurrence that represent culturally specific manifestations of the communication in that group. Apparently no universal parameter

33 for language use can be found, which would be expressed alike in two languages researched so far (Biber 1995). To investigate the creative use of genre features, the focus on external factors, such as foreign influences, does not seem adequate. Language contact may lead to the replication of single features of model genres; however, an adequate explanation of these replications is not possible without an analysis of the indigenous repertoire of genres, since they determine the selection of possible features. After establishing the parameters of language use that seem to determine Budu, it hopefully is possible to interpret the language use in modern genres. Altered patterns of language use in texts of these genres may be interpreted as striking, salient, or particularly functional in relation to all possible patterns of language use. They may also be interpreted in relation to existing patterns that manifest shared social knowledge with all its aspects. In the following chapter background information regarding the Budu will be presented clarifying their patterns of social interaction, social roles (political and religious leaders and teachers) and social institutes (community leadership, school, church etc.) as this may contribute to the functional interpretation of some clusters of co-occurrence. Creative language use provides further evidence for the cognitive reality of frames and corresponding co-occurrence patterns as were first suggested by Gumperz (1982:131). These frames can be investigated in terms of the observable co-occurrence patterns that seem to manifest them. A cross-cultural comparison of the linguistic co-occurrences and of the social effect of their manipulation could lead to an interesting development of more theoretical insights. I hope that this dissertation contributes to this development and that similar investigations may be done in the future.

34 Chapter 2. The Community of Budu Speakers

“Creativity is best understood with reference to a confluence of different systems involving both mentalistic predisposition and sociocultural domains such as community reception and acceptance within a particular domain.” Carter (2004:41)

2.0 Introduction

In section 1.4 several remarks were made concerning the adoption of new conventions for language use. References to Croft (2000) were made to introduce some helpful concepts from the evolutionary approach that he introduces in his handbook on language change. The term ’propagation’ in particular is a concept that contributes to the analysis of creative language use. Croft (2000:5) uses it to make a difference between creative innovation and language change. Creative innovation occurs when individual speakers of a language use recurring expressions in an altered manner (‘altered replication.)’ Only when entire language communities adopt such altered replication as the only ‘normal’ way to use the expression, the propagation process is completed and the replication has ‘differentiated’ meaning, since it has become the new convention and no longer the socially marked alternative. To understand the impact of creative language use on linguistic change, it is important to understand the convention itself. An analysis of language use in the following chapters contributes to this. Nevertheless, as was explained in chapter 1, internal factors in linguistic change are investigated in this dissertation and consequently the community in which an innovation is introduced is to be studied, since its interaction may clarify which social motives play a role in the adoption of new conventions. For this reason an entire chapter is dedicated to the Budu speaking community, with an emphasis on two elements that pertain to its openness to change. These elements are not simply related to the geographical situation of the majority of Budu speakers in the Wamba district of the Oriental Province of the DRC. Rather the interaction between members of the community and its social ‘isolation’ from other groups seem to matter. As in biology, populations have the strongest developed features when isolated from other groups while having a close internal network where interaction takes place. In contrast, populations that are most open to change are those groups that have intensive interaction with other groups and a loosely structured social network in their own community. In the last case, propagation may occur within the lifespan of one speaker of the language. One of the interesting aspects of the society of Budu speakers is, that they seemed to represent the isolated and independent group with a close internal network until their success in coffee trade and their involvement in the national church resulted in intensive interaction with other groups, while the internal network loosened. Within the lifespan of one language user (the author of the speech discussed in 8.3, for example) new conventions were adopted for genre modification and even for the development of entirely new genres. This chapter on the community of Budu speakers explains the development of a new social network that reaches beyond ethnic boundaries and opens intensive interaction with members of other language groups, explaining the rapid development of new, acculturated genres in the Budu community that are influenced by the languages of wider communication. While an analysis of Budu language use is meant to contribute to the analysis of linguistic conventions, the present chapter is added to contribute to the functional interpretation of the language

35 use that manifests social knowledge pertaining to social roles, social institutes and the regard of social personhood in Budu society.

2.1 Political Isolation and Economic Independence

Isolated communities tend to develop a strong tradition of text use. This virtually unchanged living situation fosters the recurrence1 of situations. Also the Budu political organisation and economic independence as producers of palm oil and mineral salt reinforced their social cohesion, which is also reflected in highly developed conventions for genre use. Between 1700 and 1850 (and probably even longer) the Budu maintained their political organisation in lineages and relied on palm oil production. Around 1700 the Budu “began to drift westward from the springs of the Nepoko and the Ituri to occupy territory in the middle Nepoko area,” and immigrated into the Bomokandi area (Vansina 1990:174). Around 1850 the Budu seem2 to have moved to the Southern area along River Nepoko to escape the expansions of the Mangbetu and Zande reign since they refused to be dominated by the expanding kingdoms of the Mangbetu. Budu are one of the few groups in the area who lived outside the direct dominion of the Mangbetu and they could afford to, since, together with the Bali they succeeded to withstand the attacks of massed spearman. They were successful because of their political organisation into multiple associated lineages (ïmbaa3) with arched ambushes4 as a military technique (Vansina 1990:174). This political organisation enabled them to maintain their own lifestyle as they withdrew in the deeper forest to escape the expanding Mangbetu and Zande. In the isolated forest the original Budu lifestyle was continued. Recurrent situations and associated text use reinforced existing cultural conventions for language use.5

1In terms of biology (Maturana and Varela 1987 in Foley 1997:10) this repeated recurrence leads to a stronger ‘structural coupling’ of the community members with their text use conventions. For the present dissertation I will refer to ‘reinforcement’ of conventions rather than to ‘structural coupling’ between Budu speakers and their conventions to avoid more theoretical jargon. 2Several sources confirm this migration (Mueller 1930; Towles 1990 and oral sources from related language groups that are documented in de Wit; de Wit-Hasselaar and Boone (1995). Moeller (1930:37) argues that before any other group, the Nyari-Budu passed the Semliki valley south of the lake to escape continuous threats of the Gallas (Hamites) in the Bunyoro kingdom as both Lendu and Nyali groups seem to have remembered it in 1937. The Budu moved slowly to the north, where they were chased by Nilotic Lendu and Sudanic Lugbara and changed course to the west, where they settled in Bomokandi valley until Mangbetu and Zande aimed to include them into their respective kingdoms 130 years ago. Baboya also mentions the existence of many legends about a common ancestor of the Budu, Nyali and Vanomo (1992:10). He considers the presence of archaic-Budu speaking communities west of Bunia called Bavomo or Bapolomo as indications of the Eastern origin of the Budu. 3Publications about this institution called it ‘emba,’ which hilariously enough refers, as Mukonji (1984) points out, to nothing more than ‘a ripe banana’ in Budu. Mukonji (1984) presents this intricate political organisation for which the Budu are famous (Vasina 1990:174). His description resembles De Maegth’s description of the banza organisation among the Nyari, where a kama (cf. Budu ngama) is assisted by several kumu (cf. bakumu) to represent the ancestors ruling the lineage, as summarised in check ASC 4It is interesting that this technique continued to induce fear for the Budu and Bali. The Italian okapi preserver Gatti (1944:165) writes about East African Journal African World, which refers to the ongoing violence in Ituri caused by so called ‘leopard men’ of the baniota secret society (London, N° 1707, 27 July 1935). It is noteworthy that this rather sensational author claims that he can, after having travelled more than 2500 kilometre through Ituri forest, not confirm this report. However, in 1947 Gatti writes about his experience with baniota men that killed some of his employees in the environment of Watsa (1947:216); a rare occasion since the arched ambushes seemed to have been eradicated since November 1934. 5Some information about the unchanged economy of the Budu can induced from the traces which former generations left in the forest. The Budu are famous for their palm oil production. Palm trees are indeed planted at several settlements where the Budu have, according to the oral tradition, migrated until they arrived at the source of the Nepoko around 1700 (Vansina 1990:169;174). These palm trees, if indeed planted by the Budu, would be

36 Another important factor for the reinforcement of conventions for language use is the cultural isolation of the Budu, surrounded as they are by Nilotic and Ubangian groups with a different background. The Budu speaking community represents a Bantu ‘isle’ in a region where over 25 Nilo- Saharan and Ubangian groups are predominant (Vansina (1990:169). Ndaaka is the only Bantu language in its close vicinity.6 It represents a closely affiliated group in contrast to the Lika, who are more similar to Bua than to Bantu D.7 In the midst of ‘foreign’ savannah originating cultures, Budu speakers seem to have cherished their own cultural identity with as an important aspect their politico-religious organisation that differed from the Mangbetu, Zande, Mayogo, Lugbara, Lendu8, Mamvu and Lese.9 The Budu society is remarkably void of hierarchically structured power-organisations. Power used to be ascribed to one representative of the lineage in hereditary fashion (Mukonji (1984)). This person and his helpers enjoyed some ascribed priviledges. The Budu seem to have considered traditional lineage leaders ïmbaa as the embodiment of the entire clan (including its history) rather than as supreme master. Representatives of Budu politico-religious power used to receive the best food and services while held responsible for the military security and the social and cosmic harmony in the entire lineage. Material priviledges were required with the person who was supposed to redistribute the available supplies in a strategic way; for example to entertain guests of the community with whom harmonious relations had to be maintained. In contrast to the neighbouring groups, lineages had no hierarchically ordered relations between their members and developed no patron-client relationships with the surrounding hunting Pygmies groups to the extent other farmer groups did. Goods are incidentally exchanged between the two groups, however, not necessarily involving face-to-face contact. Lambrecht describes how Pygmies, after a successful hunt, would deposit chunks of meat and leave (1991:86). Once out of sight, some villagers would arrive at this meeting place under a large solitary tree. They would place their staple food next to the meat and retreat in turn. After the Pygmies examined the manioc, rice or bananas, they could either an indication of their move from Semliki River near the Ruwenzori mountains in the East via present day Tchabi and Boga along the borders of Ituri Rainforest to the North, where they would have been chased by inhabitants of the savannah to the Bomokandi valley near the source of the Nepoko. The Budu are still known, along this route, for their trade in palm oil. After they entered the swamps of the Rainforest, the Budu also became famous for the production of salt made from vegetation typical to the marshes. 6The Zande and Mangbetu had a different political organisation with a strong hierarchy, in which kings and princes formed the principal categories (Evans Pritchard). The Lese with their extended households live in symbiotic relationships with the Efe Pygmies groups, which affect their entire world view (Grinker 1994). The Lugbara and Lese with their cattle herding practices have a different economic orientation. The Mayogo probably have the most similar way of life to the Budu, however, their Adamawa Ubangian language is of an entirely different language family. Van der Poort (1973) mentions a history of misunderstandings between the two language groups. 7See section 3.3.4 for detailed remarks about the lexical cognates. 8With regards to the contact between Lendu and Budu the following documentation of oral history might be of interest. De Wit (1993:5) writes in the Nyali survey report of SIL “When we asked the Nyali (in Kilo) to tell us their history, we heard the following story (which differed from the one mentioned by Vansina and in the Actes du Colloque (Bunia 1981): "The Nyali stem from a man called Nyali, who was the brother of Budu. They had the same father but different mothers. The names of the father and of the mothers are unknown. Budu adopted Ndaka into his family, the son of Budu's sister and another unknown man who ran away. The whole family lived right west-north-west of Lake Mobutu. They herded cattle and grew bananas and peanuts. After some time, the Lendu came from the east (Uganda), they found the good country of the Nyali and pushed them farther to the west, Nyali and Budu settled down around Kilo, but Ndaka journeyed far west into the forest and Tchabi, a son of Nyali, fled from the Lendu to the northern banks of the Semliki river. One year, the Nyali's gardens produced earlier than Budu's. The Budu family started to eat from their brother's family's garden. A fierce dispute broke out (it was not clear whether a real war broke out) which resulted in the departure of the Budu family. They left also to the west in search of Ndaka. They did not find him, however, and finally settled down around Wamba and Ibambi. Only later they found out that ‘only’ 100 km of forest had kept them separate.” 9It is noteworthy that the Budu have not, until relatively recently, introduced circumcision and therefore remained free from cultural obligations towards their circumcisions partners until the beginning of the 20th century (for example Vansina 1965:102).

37 accept the exchange or withdraw in the forest until more staple food was added. “Agreement was reached only after one of the parties had removed the other’s proffered merchandise,’’ (Lambrecht 1991:87). The Budu society is characterised by a certain “freedom of constraints on individual behaviour, since no member is unreasonably deprived of the capacity to make his or her own decisions by the dominance of another.”10 In the egalitarian society of the Budu equality of the condition of community members paradoxically is ensured by the same strategies that ‘deny individuals avenues for autonomous achievement,’ as Helliwell comments on the natural inequality in egalitarian societies (1995:361). These strategies consist of witchcraft and sorcery, as described for similar societies by Evans-Pritchard and Aunger (1996). They guarantee that any person who develops individual autonomy, at least the kind of autonomy that results in an achieved condition different from the other members of the same lineage, is suspect of manipulating unseen forces. Such a person is punished in an appropriate manner (using intermediates) as soon they confess the use of magic or when the use of witchcraft is ‘proved’ by an ordeal. This strategy is considered to ensure the ‘equality of condition’ of community members. Although the Budu lifestyle remained virtually unaltered in the domain of political organisations, their language adopted a vocabulary for music and trade, reflecting important interaction at the court of the Mangbetu and in visits to neighbouring groups (Demolin 1990). In the songs and stories that priest- scholar Vorbichler collected with the neighbouring Efe and Lese, various Budu songs and phrases can be found. Nevertheless this contact seems to be incidental, with ongoing violence in the absence of circumcision festivals between the Budu and other groups until the first half of last century. In summary one could say that the Budu live among cultures with origins that are actually ‘foreign’ to them, which contributed to the reinforcement of their own conventions.

2.2 External Threats

The relative isolation described in section 2.1 was reinforced by ongoing external threats to the community. Budu speakers faced Arab11 slave traders while colonial powers and military forces of

10Helliwell has this definition of equality in reference to Errington and Gewertz (1987:63 and 67 (in Helliwel1 1995:372)). 11To specify this reference to ‘Arab slave traders’ I summarise Birmingham 1976: After 1850, Sudanese and Egyptian merchants opened up the hinterland of the Bahr el Gazal and operated from a series of fenced enclosures. Their superior fire arms enabled a forced collection of food supplies. Their trade was in ivory and in slaves. Zande and later also Mangbetu rulers offered assistance. Under the Avangura King, Gura (1755- 80), the Azande established a kingdom and expanded South and East into the Uele valley. From 1820 subjects assimilated to Azande patterns of life rather then being conquered in a more absolute sense. In 1835 Zande princes Tombo and Bazingbi controlled the entire area between the rivers Uele and Nile. In the mean time other Arab traders executed orders from Sultan Sayyid from Zanzibar (Kwamena Poh (1982). They worked under Tippu Tib to collect ivory to supply the growing production of piano keys, billiard-balls and ornaments in Europe and America. As from around 1870 they transported ivory from Ituri to Zanzibar by forced labour, while Zanzibar itself had officially abolished the slave trade in 1873. Around 1850 also the Zande and the traders whom they assisted shifted their activities to the South, where the Budu live. Such traders, as from 1860 on, were the wealthy Coptic and Nubian traders, who settled near the Congo-Nile divide for the purpose of more active overland trade. The ivory trade from Khartoum was “delayed by the organised resistance of the Mangbetu kingdom on the Uele River,” Birmingham (1976:267). The garden-land of the upper Uele became a scene of violence and destruction, and the Mangbetu were unable to preserve their prosperity and independence while “violence was compounded by the gun trade as manufacturers and dealers sought outlets for their weapons in a period of rapidly advancing technology.” (opus cit. p. 267 and 268). Finally Abd al Samad succeeded in trading with the Mangbetu king, Munza, who invited them in 1867. Sudanese slave traders guided botanical doctor Schweinfurth, who enjoyed the hospitality of King Munza between 1868-1871. King Munza’s court was the most Southern place visited in Schweinfurth’s expedition in 1870. He witnessed the interaction with Pygmies

38 various nationalities12 invaded their area. Instead of disintegrating under continuous threats, the lineages fostered their cultural heritage. Widespread fear13 among community members arose when they saw their strongest men depart as porters for the forced transport of ivory and some children and women for forced labour in the Gold mines of Kilo;14 the Budu community was nevertheless not shattered by these external threats to their social cohesion. The transmission of agricultural skills, hunting skills and the knowledge of palm tree climbing and cooking remained virtually unaltered while political and economical threats from the outside world kept going on between 1880 and 1945: The Sudanic razzia’s during the 1850s; Zanzibari razzia’s during the 1880s; the King of the Belgians’ expeditions during the 1890s; the military forces’ collection of commodities as from 1888; the forced political re-organisation in chiefdoms in 1924; forced colonial labour as from 1920; forced road construction and forced habitat along the new road as from 1940; forced labour in the gold mines during the second World War;15 and enforced methods of cotton and other ‘poor people’ of the forest south of Munza’s kingdom, referring to the ‘Mabode’ (sic) as a people who live outside the realm of the slave raids. In 1870 the Mangbetu and their traders were attacked by the Zande, who, in their turn were crushed in 1873 by Al-Zubayr and his Arab traders. Arab traders from northern Sudan represented the first Islamic religious influence in the area. In 1879 the Italian Gesso led the Egyptian government forces in this extended part of the Equatorial province of the British Egypt (1872) and recruited Azande princes Ndoruma, Zemo and Zassa as government representatives. Gessi needed ivory and accepted some tusks that were collected in the Congo, where he had no control. Ironically the collection of ivory appears to have followed the patterns of violence which Gessi was trying to eradicate in Bahr al Gazal. In April 1884 his successor surrendered to the Mahdist rebellion against the Egyptian reign. The Arabs continued their trade until they were forced to stop it by continued measures of the Belgian government. These measures consisted of a military expedition that resulted, between 14 February and 7 May 1897 in a rebellion of the front part of king Leopold’s army. In May 1897 the Congo Free State army was on its way to the Sudanic fort Lado with the plan of marching on till they reached the Red Sea, expanding the Congo Free State at the expense of Egypt. The military expedition ended however killing most of its officers in a rebellion while the rear part of the expedition was forced to return. Of interest to our case is that from 7 May on one general was reported to have fought back from Avakubi, close to the Budu area. Only two months later some of the rebels were defeated on the upper- Lindi. Between 1897 and 1900 most rebels continued to survive outside the army by means of armed ambushes. These last comments by captain Bodart appear in manuscripts edited in 1977 by Pierre Salmon. 12For example (Lyons, 1992) writes that in 1886 King Leopold’s “Force Publique” was the largest colonial army in Sub Saharan Africa. The Congo Free State devoted 49% of its budget to the army (3,127 troops in 1891), 12,452 men were recruited from Dahomey, Zanzibar, Hausa land, Sierra Leone, Liberia, Gold Coast, Abyssinia, Somali, and Egypt because African born soldiers were considered more immune to sicknesses. In 1889/92 500 Hausa and 600 Ethiopian men were hired as soldiers after more than 64% of the Belgian soldiers had died from sicknesses. 13Lyons reports that the Van Kerckhoven expedition hired 300 paddlers for the 30 canoes. In October 1893 a Belgian commander was reported to be disappointed by the small amount of ivory he found after defeating Budu speaking people in Lower Uele. He was nevertheless very pleased to capture ‘many women to work in his plantations’ (1992:25 ff refers to documentation dated 24 October 1893). A certain Dr. Abeti commented in 1909 that an average labourer in the mine was ‘done for’ in seven months. Sixty percent of the hospital patients came from the Nepoko region, where the Budu live, the majority being children between 8 and 10 years old suffering from tuberculosis. (p.30). In 1915 some administrators express concern about the heavy burden of imposed labour upon ‘the Africans’ in Uele. In 1931 the Budu were under the heavy obligation to cultivate cash crops and in mining areas near Wamba and Kilo Moto mines to feed labourers. In the Second World War, many men left to fight as soldiers and consequently children were sent to the gold mines in Kilo Moto. 14Lyons (1992:31) reports that the mines in Kilo and Moto were exploited from 1905 and respectively 1911, after which labourers were forced to walk hundreds of miles to work on the hundred and sixty sites of the mines. All extractions were performed by hand. The colonial state forced labour until 1920. On page 30 she cites Dr. Fontana, Annual Report of Medical Service for Province Oriëntale, (1931) to have reported that 64 firms in the province employed 61.190 labourers. In 1928 a subsidiary company, Minière de Tél’, operated eight mining camps in the Nepoko region (of Wamba district) and employed 2,081 labourers. Charles Scheyvaerts executed a special survey between October 1918 and January 1919. He was the appointed investigator to inspect on reported atrocious conditions at the mines, after which at least child labour decreased. 15Crawford Young (1976) documented the economic and social impact of WW II on Congo: “The effort de guerre imposed severe sacrifices, which bore most heavily upon the African population. The Allies at first asked

39 production in the 1950s.16 As might have been expected, these continuous threats caused a large part of the Budu population to repeatedly withdraw into the forest to practice a slash-burn agriculture combined with occasional hunting and collecting, especially after their agricultural autonomy was threatened because farmers had switched from rice cultivation to cotton production (Bambanota 1989:122)17 and coffee production. Nevertheless, the Budu did not develop mutual dependencies for survival with the Pygmies, as the related Mbo (Towles 1993). Since the Budu already practiced the palm oil trade and adopted salt production as soon as they entered the Bomokandi swamps around 1700, they never economically depended on relationships with the Pygmies to the extent the Mbo, the Mamvu and the Lese populations did. Pygmies only incidentally visit villages that are surrounded by dense forest to visit lineage heads (Mukonzi 1984:67). Temporal flights to the forest did not result in a mutual dependency between the Budu and the surrounding Pygmies, Efe or Lese. The most important threat to the social cohesion of the Budu communities was the changed role of the lineage leader. In pre-colonial days, the active role of political leaders consisted of peacekeeping by possible mobilisation of Budu warriors with their poisoned arrows. When Zanzibari slave traders arrived around 1875, some leaders accepted guns in exchange for elephant tusks and slaves. Before the arrival of the slave traders lineage leaders were the most important males who incidentally received game from hunting experts while the area enjoyed the strategic protection by intermediary role of the lineage leaders. The land, rivers and the iron that was used for melting were all seen as clan property and chiefs were considered as the only legitimate representatives of the lineage to distribute these goods: “ces biens appartenaient aux familles, aux lignages, car la société traditionelle bodo et lika était une société collectiviste, communautariste, socialiste au sens du socialisme africain,” (Mukonzi 1984:63). Lineage leaders only organised festivals, contributed to bridewealth payments and represented the Most High in the original organisation of Budu and Lika societies. Around 1908 Belgian authorities started to further exploit the priviledged leaders as ‘subaltern functionary’ of the colonial administration. “Their major task was to ensure that their administrative units adequately met what was known in colonial discourse as their ‘collective obligations to the state,’ (Mwene-Batende 1982:96). These included compulsory cultivation of certain export crops, conscription, and forced labour on public projects, labour recruitment and taxes. Fulfilling these obligations in a satisfactory manner implied hardships for ordinary people but political and economic rewards for the chiefs. It succeeded in setting the chiefs against their own people”, Nzongola-Ntalaga (2002:35). The colonial authorities are still traumatically remembered for the public floggings of failing chiefs and for other humiliating punitive measures; for example in the thematic paintings that decorate kiosks and

for increased production of tin and gold, with cobalt, tungsten, uranium (CFK: Sybilla Claus in the Dutch Journal ‘Trouw’ assumes that Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombs were produced with uranium from Congo, 5 June 2003) and rubber subsequently added to the list. The number of required days of corvée labour on roads, public works, and forced cultivation was raised from 60 to 120, a figure in reality often exceeded. Coerced collection of wild rubber, abandoned since the ‘red rubber’ scandals of the Congo Free State, was resumed, raising rubber exports from 1142 tons in 1939 to 11.337 in 1944. Units of the Force Publique, funded by the colonial budget, were made available to Allied forces in the Abyssinian campaign, in West Africa, the Middle East, and even Burma. While the territorial service redoubled its pressure on the subject population, it was stripped of its cadres.” p. 702-703. In answer to demonstrations in Lubumbashi, troops opened fire on the persons involved resulting in an official death toll of 60. After the war inflation resulted from attempts to restore the social peace: “The colonial administration sought social peace after the Second Word War through rising real wages, which tripled during the 1950-8 period.” “After 1961 inflations swiftly eroded and nullified these gains: by 1965 real wages were back to the 1958 level.” 16Likaka (1995:206) refers to violence by illiterate supervisors in the first phase of coerced cotton production, after Isiro was re-organised as city for the distribution of cotton in 1926 (Choprix 1961:23). Many of these supervisors were former soldiers who were used to force subjects. 17Mily Denda Sakala documents that between 1984 and 1986 rice in the province Haut Zaire even had to be imported from Kisangani (1996:216).

40 offices nation-wide.18 In 1924 Budu and Lika leaders first resisted the government’s measures of installing chiefdoms, because they feared that it would overrule their ancestors claim on the territory (Mukonzi 1984:64). Their forced acceptance of the chiefdoms instilled fear and insecurity. While Budu speakers experienced ongoing violent intrusions, the more peaceful inventions in cultures of their intruders remained hidden to them. The first model of an automatic gun, called the Maxim gun, was, for instance, tried out in the Ituri Forest by the explorer Stanley during his African coast to coast expedition in 1887 before the British army started to use this weapon in 1889. In contrast, it was not until 1911 before the first text books for Ituri’s inhabitants were introduced in the area. Ongoing intrusions consisted in the increased political, economic and medical threats. Budu society remained isolated19 from the use of literacy in schools, hospitals and churches while the rubber and the ivory they collected contributed to the manufacture of car wheels, piano keys and billiard balls in Europe and America. Vansina summarises this phase in the history of this area: “The peoples of the rainforest began first to doubt their own legacies and then to adopt portions of the foreign heritage. But they clung to their own languages and much of the older cognitive content carried by them,” (1990:247). The existence of a reinforced tradition is reflected in the text examples in this dissertation, while some of the texts in the researched corpus represent genres that developed from contact with cultures with a literate tradition. Although the Budu, with their strong lineage organisations, remained isolated in their community network, they became one of the groups most open to change in the entire area (Aunger 1996). Aunger performed, as a biological anthropologist, a study of food avoidances in the Ituri area inhabited by Budu, Lese, Efe and Bira (1996:217 and 216). Aunger researched the influence of school and Christianity on the amount of observed food avoidances in the daily diet of inhabitants of the Budu area and surroundings. Each sub-lineage in the Forest has its own taboo food related to the animal that is representing the ancestors. Lineage members express their reverence for ancestors by observing food avoidances. Aunger expected an improved diet with more calorie intake among educated inhabitants, under the influence of the acculturating forces of school and Christianity. In contrast to his expectations, mere church affiliation or school attendance did not result in improved diets. In some cases students even adopted an increased number of food avoidances; especially when young persons lived in the same home they happened to adopt each others observances of food taboos, resulting in a lower calorie intake. However, interesting enough among all the tested subjects, Aunger found that the Budu in particular were the most open to change. He found important differences between the Budu and other groups in his research. Although these differences can not be interpreted as correlations between ignored food avoidances and school or church affiliation, they seem to be related to the less isolated position of the Budu. Church affililiated or not, and school attending or not, the Budu’s as a group tended to be more indifferent to food avoidances. In the Ituri Forest school and church represent ideas that are “truly foreign, costly to espouse, and are not linked to other beneficial ideas or practices. This suggests that, for ideological-motivated acculturation to be successful, the imported ideas must be intrinsically congenial or otherwise confer a substantial benefit on those who adopt them,” (Aunger 1996: 217). Education and Christianity indeed seem to have represented new possibilities for social mobility. Schools and churches, where regular contact with foreigners is possible, are considered to be “institutes of acculturation that are intimately tied to avenues for achieving power and prestige”, (opus cit.) while they also serve as a means to escape from the traditional lifestyles. “Literacy, for example, has the ability to lead the imagination into

18In the book of Jewsiewicki (1991) see figure 5 ‘whipping by a chief’. 19The exposure to Zanzibari traders’ use of literacy was only limited due to the choice of Arabic (script) which kept its impact reduced to a minimum, similar to the situation in Malawi, about which Chimombo writes: “Reference to literacy and numeracy seems to depend on Western education, since, perhaps, it was more widespread and aggressive, and went hand in hand with evangelisation (which the Moslems were not interested in at this early stage),” (Chimombo 1987:309).

41 places and times that readers cannot visit for themselves. Similarly, Christianity might provide psychic [sic] comforts unavailable through traditional religion.” (Aunger 1996:216) contends in an attempt to explain, from his evolutionary perspective as a biologist, the persistence of food avoidances representing a dangerously low calorie intake in the face of biological advantages of ignoring taboos. Aunger found that the Budu group in his research represents an exception to the normally slow process of acculturation. This can be explained by the “intrinsic cognitive appeal” (opus cit.) of the conventions that are introduced with school and church, without necessarily making every Budu attend church or school. In contrast to Sudanic groups, the witchcraft20 practiced among the Bantu groups apparently does not inhibit their embrace of education and church as institutes of acculturation although they do not embrace the food taboos that are prescribed by healers. Bantu groups seemed for some reason to be more open to change. The following section is meant to suggest some reasons.

2.3 Literacy Development

Within the lifespan of one speaker of Budu, the community developed from using single conventions for the use of written texts to functioning in the literate mode. Between 1911, when the Budu speaking community was first exposed to schools with literacy in French, and 1996, when the orthography of their own language was established, their first graduate student finished the Sorbonne in Paris as doctor in linguistics (Asangama 1983). Within 85 years some conventions for the use of language in completely new situations had developed. In this dissertation some texts written between 1998 and 2001 represent new genres as they developed in the contact with the literate tradition in French, Swahili and Lingala. In the rest of this dissertation I will investigate the relation of these genres to other Budu genres. In this section I discuss factors that may have contributed to the openness of the Budu to adopt any new cultural convention after the decades between 1880 and 1945, in which Budu conventions where reinforced as their own network remained rather isolated. I will discuss the disturbed economic autonomy, the disintegration of the village community as result of increased mobility and urbanisation, and the changed gender roles in the Budu area as factors that contributed to the increased interaction with other groups. The church relations with other ethnic groups play a special role, since they represent at the same time a new social network and the continuation of some social roles from the village community. The new social network enables interaction with other groups, which implies exposure to ‘altered replication’ of conventions, in Croft’s (2000) terminology. The introduction of cash crops in the Budu area was forced by the colonial government as from 1920. They saw the densely populated Wamba district as a good production area from where cotton and coffee could be transported to the Congo River by train.21 Until 1964 cotton was the most important crop; between 1964 and 1981 coffee became the most important cash crop (Mokili 1986:152). While the introduction of cash crops implied semi-permanent housing of its farmers, it leads to depletion of the soil to be used for food crops as traditional Budu farmers used to migrate to new fields every seven years. Also the division of labour was affected, because 44% of the working population was active in the coffee fields. Women took over the responsibility for the food crops and had to use abandoned coffee fields. Most (70%) of the money owned in coffee was spent on cars, trucks, motorbikes, bikes, cassettes, radio’s and other non-food items (Mokili 1986:153, 153). Coffee therefore introduced a new social class of those who have access to money and with a claim to land.

20The social control that is exercised by constant accusations among kinsmen about offences against the ancestor spirits is one of the side effects of the application of witchcraft as a system of apportioning justice (Aunger 1996:217, cf. Grinker’s study of the balance between various parties in Efe –Lese Households (1994). 21A train connected the harbour of Aketi with Isiro in 1934 and in 1943 2500 employees built the extended rails to Mungbere, in the northern Budu area (Choprix 1961:41 and Mily Denda-Sakala 1996:207).

42 The disturbed economic autonomy and affected division of labour among the Budu threatened its social cohesion while it at the same time opened an era with intensified contacts with other groups. A new network of contacts with other groups developed in relation to the selling and transportation of cash crops in Isiro (then called Paulis) and because of the inter-ethnic church denominations that had their activities in the entire province. A new phase in the history of the Budu had started. The new rail in 1934 connected the North-South roads with the West, while road building in 1940 connected the Wamba district with its district capital Paulis, later called Isiro (Choprix 1961:22). The Budu, who are known for their traditional involvement in trade,22 made an extensive use of these new possibilities. As long as one can remember, Budu traders had been the most important palm oil producers in the area. Around 1850, after they left the Bomokandi valley to settle in the area of the marshes near the Nepoko, the Budu became famous salt producers. The State distribution of manufactured salt as reward for cotton production23 made an end to the monopoly of the Budu salt traders, as the entire Eastern Province was provided with this product. However, around 1925,24 coffee plantations became the main cultivation of the fertile area around coffee town Paulis (Uele being the principal Robusta coffee producing region of the country from that time) and many Budu farmers started producing for the coffee trade. The forced cotton labour, detrimental to agricultural communities in other parts of the country, only had limited impact on the principal coffee producing areas.25 Budu traders were eager to familiarise themselves with the numeracy skills taught in Mission schools from 1911 onwards. Most of their labourers gained enough money to buy bicycles (94% is mentioned by Mokili 1986:152). Since the roads26 facilitated the transportation of the coffee beans, mobility increased enormously during the years 1930. This development resulted in the migration of parts of the population to the major cities of Congo. Nowadays there seems to be a small Budu speaking population in bigger cities of Congo. The introduction of literacy in the Budu area was facilitated through the trade language Swahili that was introduced into the area by Zanzibari traders from 1887. Use of this trade language, in combination with the organisation of a church community in the early twentieth century, contributed to the development of an interethnic church network. From 1911 on27 literacy was taught in Francophone

22For example Vansina writes that “Les Budu étaient des commerçants fameux. Ils vendaient du sel dans l’ Uele et chez les Pere [Bhele of Butembo] et de l’huile de palme chez les Meje [Mangbetu South of Isiro] et les Bali et des armes à tous leur voisins,” (1965:97). 23Likaka makes also mention of the bicycles that cotton traders could obtain as a reward for high production. This production premium gave rise to a particular song, sung by Mangbetu women: “Where is my husband, I want to use his bike,” (Likaka 1995:214, 215). 24Between the rivers Bomokandi and the Nepoko both the climate and the soil proved to be excellent for coffee cultures and as a result especially the chiefdom Ibambi-Timoniko produced above the (already high) average (540 kg/ha) of the area with its 1,400 kg/ha, reason to call the Budu area the coffee ‘granary’ of Uele (together with Rungu it produced 40% of Uele’s entire coffee production). Especially since Timoniko and Wadimbisa had 84 and 75 inhabitants per square kilometre (as opposed to the average density for population in Uele of 5 persons per square kilometre) was important to the production of coffee, introduced in the Wamba area in 1920. With an average of 12 bags of 60 kilo coffee beans per family per year, the salary of an average coffee trading family was much higher than the salary of those in administrative or public functions, Mokili (1986: 143-152). 25Although many Budu still remember the humiliations and punishments associated with the cotton industry in Ibambi, the cotton production in Uele-Nepoko was nothing compared to the coffee production in Niangara (Likaka (1995:205) mentions for example a small wage of a cotton producing family during 1930/31). The coffee trade saved the Budu population to a large extent from the terrible treatment which cotton production administrators in less fortunate parts of the country gave to underproducing farmers and even to their chiefs between 1917 and 1935. 26 Dubois (1932:85) reports about the medical services of the Red Cross from Pawa: “Grace à l’excellent réseau routier du pays, la surveillance des villages serait fort facilitée.” 27 As from 1904, Catholic priests were reported to travel along rivers from Bafwabaka to Paulis (Isiro) to preach their message. Many Budu as a result moved to Bafwabaka or surroundings, where the local population grew to 30.000 in the years 1930 (Baboya Ilunga 1992).

43 missionary28 schools in Bafwasende, at a few days journey from Ibambi. The Southern Budu area had access to the villages east of Bafwabaka where the transmission of this new skill was in the hands of Catholic teachers. From 1920 onwards Budu were included in a Seminary training serving about 50 newly started schools. Furthermore, from 1930 onwards a Swahilophone Catholic girls’ school was organised in this non-Budu town Bafwabaka. The first (Swahilophone) schools in the Budu area were built from 1936.29 A translation of the Swahili Bible was edited in 1929.30 During the same period, a Protestant mission started its church related activities in the Ibambi area.31 The Heart of Africa Mission (HAM) was around 1960 registered as national church denomination CECCA 16, obtaining permission for its activities in North Eastern Congo. The local church community in Ibambi, like its Roman Catholic fellowship of believers that was founded as from 1945, seems to have gradually started to fulfil social roles that used to be centralised in the village community. In particular the male house of meetings bhasa used to be the centre of social organisation, as Budu writers Athoo, Bukwedu, Oginyo and Idey (1999) contend, in one of the texts of the researched corpus. These Budu writers bring to attention that two factors that used to determine community affairs, namely decision- making and the transmitting of knowledge are no longer organised by the village elders. These seem to be increasingly represented by the church community.32 Urbanisation had its effect on the development of new social network. Places like Wamba, Ibambi and Pawa became the new centres (cf. Grinker 1994; Towles 1993 about the same area). “New mines were developed by the Belgian government near Wamba [...], where the Budu […] formed the bulk of the labour pool” (Grinker 1994:35). By the 1920s, Wamba had undergone extensive construction and landscaping. Schebesta reports that the major town for the Budu Wamba, had many factories and plantations; broad streets lined with palms (1934:88). The Belgians forced agriculture to produce much food for the miners, which attracted famine struck populations to the well- supplied mining centres in times of crisis. During 1940-’45 the farmers were forced to hand 60% of their food crops to administration. Large plantations were built near Wamba to feed the miners. Urbanisation is a factor in the development of a new interethnic network. Mobility and social mobility also increased the interaction with outsiders. Traders and church leaders travel throughout the entire Province, while soldiers and ordained pastors are by default assigned to places outside their native area.33 Another example of social mobility is the so called enfant

28The data concerning the Roman Catholic Mission posts and related schools and churches are indicated on a map by Léon Saint Moulin, (1989), on which it also says that in 1989 Roman Catholic church membership in the Wamba district (between 20 and 29 % of the population) was lower than the national average (48 % for villages, 66% for towns). The founding dates of mission stations can be compared to the following: Kisangani (1899); Bafwabaka (1914); Buta (1910); and Bunia (1912). 29Schools and churches were built in 1936 (Maboma); 1939 (Ibambi); 1945 (Pawa) and in 1945 also another Francophone Seminary in Lingondo (St Moulin (1989). 30The Swahili New Testament was revised in 1992. The entire Bible was translated into the Swahili of Congo in 1960 for the 9,100,000 speakers of Congo Swahili in the East and South of the country and revised in 2000. 31The Protestant Heart of Africa Mission (HAM) which had in 1913 started their activities in Niangara with a hospital, from 1916 onwards centred their activities in major Budu towns Wamba and Ibambi where they were welcomed by chief Ibambi. They organised two Swahilophone training schools for church workers and several Swahilophone primary schools. In 1918 two hundred adults are reported to have visited one school in Wamba. The boys school had about 100 pupils whereas girls were said to be less easily persuaded; in the 1950-ies there were only 10 of them in the Hospital in Ibambi area (Nebobongo), where many nurses had been trained in French before. Rosevaere (1988:36). This mission was later called the WEC. 32The changed social situation with scattered communities represents different needs (of children and women) and therefore forms a challenge to social life. The church community, with its opportunities for women, gains importance as it started to answer a need. A similar transition was observed for Mangbetu society, where the Roman Catholic Church took over roles from the traditional leadership. Wenger (1995) observes: “There is a government structure in the area, but it has very little influence, leaving the churches as the only functioning organisation of any size in the area. […] The church's influence and authority are respected by both members and non-members throughout the language group.” 33One of Ibambi’s pastors as was serving as a missionary in Chad between 1996 and 2006.

44 confiés. From the 1970s on many village-families send their children to school in town where relatives provided them with the opportunity of schooling. Mobility contributed to the increased interaction with outsiders. The church community fulfilled a new role in the changed situation. In contrast to the male leaders, the female relatives of enfants confiés incidentally interact with them as they work on distant fields or when both sell crops at a central market. The female majority in most Budu churches, represented in leading roles as evangelists, teachers, medical workers and directors, therefore seems significant. Women in this new institution were able to voice their changing interests as members of society, several of them being educated themselves and most of the town women in charge of enfants confiés. The changed social situation with scattered communities represents different needs of children and women and therefore forms a challenge to the traditional social life in village communities. The church community, with its opportunities for women, gained importance as it started to answer a need without threat to the position of Budu men, who represent the church’s main leadership. The cash economy, which gradually started to replace the exchange of goods,34 was already mentioned in relation to cash crops. It was first introduced with the many porters that Budu communities provided for the expeditions in the area (Schildkrout and Keim 1990, chapter 3 note 28). As the money economy was firmly established in the Wamba district through coffee cultivation and the paid jobs for teachers and medical assistants, church leaders started to become involved in bride-wealth negotiations in order to reduce exuberant bride prices that started to be asked, especially for educated girls. At the same time circumcision started to be organised in church-related hospitals. These are some examples of how in many villages the church community gained influence in the social organisation of neighbourhoods. The church community began to represent the most prestigious employer in the region (next to the coffee farmers and private gold mining companies) by organising medical training and medical services35. Budu nurses and teachers could qualify themselves for jobs. Although these jobs were underpaid, it should be noticed that the church nevertheless introduced a stratified society into the village communities. Nelson (1995:73) for example observes this pattern for the Baptist Church in Eastern Congo in which he grew up ‘that they were very much helping to establish,’ as individual village members were ‘ready to get away from the endless repetition of daily chores’. In the village community the division of agricultural chores represented an egalitarian system from which specialists could not escape. The church not only disrupted this egalitarian society with the introduction of paid specialists, it also provided an alternative platform for the organisation of community matters in an urbanising society with increased social and physical mobility. With the introduction of literacy in Swahili and French, Budu speakers were exposed to new conventions for language use in genres such as medical diagnosis or school lessons, for which the Budu social organisation had not yet developed a slot. Instead of copying these genres, new genres were developed accommodating existing conventions regarding communication in Budu society. The remark earlier made regarding propagation, that it usually takes generations before a new convention takes the place of a former alternative is contradicted by the history of the Budu. This can only be explained by what Vansina seems to call, rather dramatically ‘the death of a tradition’ (the title of chapter 8 of his 1990 publication with subtitle: ‘the history of political tradition in Equatorial Africa’). It suggests that Vansina’s interpretation of the disintegrated social structures in the Budu area is not dramatic, but just realistic. It any way accounts for the incredibly quick development of a Budu literacy that resulted in the edition of printed booklets between 1998 and 2001.

34The exchange of goods is still practised at some local markets (Grinker 1984:138 and my own observation) 35Although it should be said that these jobs do not represent the instant money that gold or diamonds represent. Wild (1999) remarks for the area surrounding the Eastern city Bunia that Christians see it as their duty to work in underpaid service in hospitals, schools and training institutes rather than making money through mineral excavation or in prostitution.

45 The Red Cross started in 1925 to have Budu medical assistants trained with doctor Conzémius in Pawa. They were trained to work with microscopes in attempts to eradicate leprosy and sleeping sickness. This experienced doctor, who had worked in Katanga from 1911, established the work of the Congolese Red Cross (founded in 1924) in Budu town Pawa.36 Budu midwives were trained by his wife37, who had also started a prenatal care clinic. The success of these attempts may have contributed to the Budu openness to literacy. In contrast to in the rest of Northeast Congo, where miscommunications and widespread fear of western medical services were reported frequently (as referred to in the well-documented dissertation of Lyons 1992) it certainly seems unique for the Budu inhabited area that rumours regarding biopsies in this area did not develop as ideas about the doctor’s anthropophagi and use of magic (since, for hygienic reasons, most biopsies and post mortem investigations were conducted in seclusion). Churches functioned as active agents of change in the area of literacy. They organised two Swahilophone training schools for church workers and several Swahilophone primary schools.38 In the towns Babonde and Mungbere the Protestant mission of the so called “Assemblies of God” started primary schools in Swahili (Kingwana). The medical training in the church related hospitals in the area was preceded by the work of the Red Cross and continued its work outside Pawa when the Red Cross run short of finances. Swahili is the most important language of instruction in the area’s school. After the four initial years the lessons in the primary schools change from using Swahili to French.39 This transition is made

36The area around the Nepoko River was chosen by the Red Cross because of its poverty, dense population and isolated situation in relation to medical services (Cornet 1971:258). The Red Cross organised medical dispensaries in Karume, Adamokoko, Betongwe, Obongoro and a small hospital in Pawa (300 beds) and Avakubi. Smaller clinics were founded in Ibambi, Babonde, Adiembali and Medje and Viandana. From 1931 for budgetary reasons the services of the Red Cross are limited to the chiefdom Abiengama where the Budu Makoda lineage is situated (Dubois (1932:83). 37Cornet (1971:259+260). 38In 1918 two hundred adults are reported to have visited one school in Wamba. The boys school had about 100 pupils whereas girls said to be less easily persuaded; in the 1950’s there were only 10 of them in the Hospital in Ibambi area (Nebobongo), where many nurses had been trained in French before. Rosevaere (1988:36). 39From grade 4 in Congolese primary schools French was in use as language of instruction from as early as 1906. In 1906, even before Congo became a nation, a Concordate was signed between the Vatican and the Belgian government (one of the financing parties of Congo Free State). The Catholic Church was ensured a monopoly in Congolese educational matters (Burke 1994:130) with French as obligatory part of the curriculum (Yates 1980:259), whereas most Protestant Mission Schools had Anglophone teachers. Schools were built near plantations, completely in line with King Leopold’s hidden aim to exploit the country. As a consequence, Catholic schools used trade languages, to teach children of several ethnic groups which had gathered around the plantations. The obligatory use of French in education made the students well- equipped for labour supervised by Europeans (Polomé 1968:302). In 1926, 1938 and 1948 French was established as obligatory language again. Therefore missionary teachers, of whom some contributed to the development of Congo with linguistic descriptions of the vernacular languages (Fabian 1996:139), nevertheless wrote most schoolbooks in trade languages or French (Vinck 2000). Strikingly there seems to have even been little awareness of vernacular languages at all. For example Fabian 1991 ([1983]:139) points out that even the term ‘langue indigène’ as mentioned in publications before 1928 invariably referred to Lingala of Swahili and not to vernacular languages. However Vinck (2000:87) nevertheless mentions the existence of a dozen textbooks in vernacular languages, among which Otetela, Amashi, Kiyaka, Lomongo en Kintandu. Since not all regions were covered by Catholic Missions, Leopold accepted Protestant teachers to ‘fill the gaps’ (Reardon 1968:86) with schools where the curriculum was in the vernacular and in a Language of Wider Communication. However, as from 1890, the use of vernacular languages in Protestant schools has been an issue for the colonial government. It was pronounced as an argument against teaching in the vernacular languages that the pupils would have less possibilities to express themselves in abstract notions: “L’ indigène parle sa langue maternelle très correctement et il possède un vocabulaire d’autant plus étendu que les mots généraux ou abstraits lui font presque complètement défaut." (Inspection Générale de l’Enseignement 1931:7 in Fabian 1983:143). Through the years educational organisation in Congo has been perceived as a state affair. Catholic schools collaborated in close union with state agents. Protestant schools owed loyalty to the colonial administration (the chiefs) which granted them the land on which

46 to prepare the advanced pupils from grade 5 onwards to enrol in the Francophone secondary schools in the area. Two were started in 1950. However, the average Budu spear was limited in his choice of curriculum. Due to the economic pressures most Congolese had to work their fields. As soon as children reach the age where they can work full time in the fields, their work as co-labourers is needed, considering the percentage of children in Congolese society. This implies that most children spend two years of primary education at maximum (Yates (1980:27) and Boyle (1995: 465 466)). The choice of language in school was unfortunate for the development of literacy. During colonial years the Budu speaking children were discouraged by punishments and humiliations for using their mother tongue in class.40 Nevertheless, considering the frequent punishments, it apparently was hard for most children to communicate in Swahili only. Even towards the end of the twentieth century most women at the maternity clinic in Ibambi lack basic knowledge of Swahili, while most Budu men seem to master enough Swahili for their trading trips (with bicycles). Outside the larger villages and off the roads the knowledge of Swahili is minimal, whereas exposure to French, which is taught from the fourth year of primary education, is minimal. For example, in the 1990s only about 2000 Budu speaking children attended secondary schools in the Wamba district each year (against a population of 220,000). The choice of language for the introduction of literacy resulted in a strong selection, which resulted in a development of divergence in the society between educated and uneducated Budu speakers. This contributed in Croft’s terms to a greater chance for ‘differentiated replication,’ since multiple groups with exposure to the use of language in general started using their own language reflecting this foreign influence. The first Protestant University in Zaire in 1963 had some impact on the Budu of the Wamba district who are situated in the same province (Haut Zaire).41 Because of its church affiliation enrolment in the University was encouraged by the large Protestant schools in the Wamba district. In 1974 this third University of Congo was nationalised by president Mobutu. It then had a student population with a percentage of about 4,5 % vernacular North Congolese language speakers (Boyle 1995:461).42 More important are the professional training institutes that served the Budu area at a distance (1967 Buta; 1968 Bunia). By 1970 Budu speakers had access to literacy at all educational levels, with a University at 250 kilometre distance and with the two higher institutes in the area. This means that within 59 years the community made the transition from virtually no contact with the technology of writing to an increasing number of its members being enrolled in education with access to libraries, Universities and Training Institutes. Budu speaker Asangama obtained his PhD at the University of the Sorbonne (France) in 1983, when he presented the linguistic description of Budu and continued his academic activities, presenting a lecture about Swahili at the University of Dar es Salaam in Tanzania in 2001, referred to in Kishe (2001:218). French is the official language of Congo and therefore the language of higher education. It is associated with the formal training that is prerequisite to social mobility. Its lack of impact in the Budu area seems due to the lack of financial success of those few who succeed in obtaining school diplomas.43 When the mineral excavation was privatised in 1973, employees in gold mines and popular musicians actually had more cash than university graduates. schools were built. School diplomas gave students access to (administrative) jobs with the government, or with the mission schools and medical facilities, where they were supervised by Francophone colonials. 40Several older Budu speakers relayed to me how children were put in a corner of the classroom with a sign, saying: pagan around their neck for incidentally using their mother tongue. During colonial times the Budu was referred to as ‘Mosengi’ from the French: ‘mon singe’ Abati (2003), or from the Arab word ‘black,’ which was also used in a derogatory sense (Mufwene 2001:205). 41It was founded by the Protestant Council of Churches (PCC) later called Church of Christ in Congo (ECC). 42In this Univeristy a percentage as high as 20,7 % of the students indicated Swahili as their mother tongue, which is not surprising in an area where the Swahili speaking traders had resided under Tippu Tib between 1874 and 1892, with many residents remaining until the 1920’s. 43Crawford Young (1975) mentions the changed opportunities for the educated: State salaries were tripled between 1950 and 1960, followed by huge inflation. This in the first place led to governmental efforts to increase

47 However, since school language for a long while represented the only written language known to the Budu, its role as a model is considerable. Hopes for the restoration of the economy, which declined, since the 1980s to catastrophic depths in Bas-Uélé,44 were somehow associated with the use of Swahili and French, reminiscent as it is of better times. At the same time growing numbers of the Budu population stopped attending school to keep their subsistence farming going because of the lack of cash. Bangala45 is predominantly known as an orally transmitted language. It is used as a second language by soldiers46. Nevertheless church attending people may be familiar with the Bangala Bible47 that was translated anew (1997) in Isiro (at 75 kilometres from Ibambi) or with the Bangala catechism that is used near Isiro. Because of the glamour of both Lingala music and television broadcasting, Bangala (the pidginise Lingala) gained some influence in the Budu area since the 1970s (Asangama 1983:10) and nowadays some Bangala church songs are used. Swahili never lost its role as the regional trade language in the entire Wamba district, possibly because of the residence of Zanzibari traders in Wamba between the 1880s and 1920, when the last traders left. The continued presence of Lingala speaking military forces keeps the Budu exposed to shouted orders in this language.48 the social mobility of the mass of the populace, after the 1964-5 rebellions had voiced the discord generated by the contrast between the visible wealth of the administrative-political elite and the deteriorating situation of the less fortunate: “At the same time the social mobility for those at the bottom was ensured by expanding the educational system. (1975:746-7). However, in 1967 the inflation decreased due to an effective price stabilisation programme and the introduction of a new currency. However, by 1972 deterioration set in: between 1964 and 1975 the minimum wage reduced by 53 percent (International Labour Organisation reports). By 1975 cotton coffee and palm fruits prices were a quarter to a third of the 1960 level. This situation was discouraging to those who considered enrolment in higher education for themselves or their relatives. 44Mily Denda-Sakala (1996:214) writes: “Le Bas-Uélé est enclavé, il est éloigné, il n’a ni chemins de fer opérationnels, ni routes de dessertes agricoles. La misère demeure. La population croupit dans la paupérisation. Partout dans la sous-région les produits de plusieurs récoltes demeurent invendus, d’autres pourissent. Les quelques kilos de café moississent chez lez planteurs. Le cotton n’est plus planté, le paddy et l’arachide ne font plus objet d’aucune campagne. Tout cela à cause du fait qu’il n’y a pratiquement plus de routes. En tout pour tout, le zairisation a inauguré une période catastrophique pour la sous-région du Bas-Uélé.” 45Most soldiers of the Congo Free State used Bangala. Lyons (1992) documents reports about these soldiers: “Enforced collection of commodities was customary at 132 state posts, in 1900 at 183 posts in Uele. Cloth, beads and brass rods were exchanged for rubber and ivory (Lyons 1992:12). Captain Gage, an eyewitness mentioned in the Sudan Internal Report 1887 mentions that, in case of resistance to this ‘trade,’ villages were surrounded, cattle and women captured and resisting men shot. The population was obliged to supply the ‘traders’ with food as well. As a result the area in a ten days march around State posts and military camps was deserted. (Lyons 1992:21,22.) Over 12,000 African soldiers were involved in this army. Soldiers from nine different countries joined mother tongue speakers of Lingala speaking soldiers and their lingua franca became the Bangala of Congo. 46Regarding the development of Bangala (a pidgin language) next to Lingala it is interesting that Samarin writes (1991:72): ‘Colonialisation was labour intensive; people in large numbers –women as well as men, children and adults –were moved about at the will and whim of the agents of Congo Free State. They must have found it useful to adopt the emerging equatorial lingua franca among themselves. It was also the lingua franca for the Force Publique, the militia of the State, which in the early years consisted of large numbers of foreign Africans. It is therefore reasonable to consider the possibility that parallel to the emergence of a pidgin that became stabilised in the northeast [Bangala], there emerged in the equatorial area a creolised variety [Lingala].’ Contrary to the people groups who responded favourably to the language of the foreigners and who appropriated this new language for themselves, making it more congenial to their own grammars and lexicons, the language groups in the north east seem to have not integrated the pidgin which they used (Bangala) for contact with foreigners into their own languages. 47The Bangala New Testament was edited in 1928 and revised in 1977; the entire Bible was edited in 1953 and revised in 1997. Bangala has 3,500,000 speakers in the Eastern Province of the DRC (Grimes (1996). (for comparison: the Lingala New Testament was edited in 1942 and revised 1992. The entire Lingala Bible was edited in 1970 for the 8,400,000 speakers in North, Center and West DRC.) Even the popular Lingalophone music is associated with the military, as Gondola (1997:71) points out: “The colonial trilogy of religious choirs, the scout songs, and the military parades were fundamental in the formation

48 Although the impact of the printed word was largely restricted to schools and churches,49 newspapers seem to have been distributed in French only50 in the Kinshasa area and in the South in Chiluba (Mudimbe 1988). From 1991 onwards a Swahili publication ‘Igogo’ was edited by the Budu project for Bible Translation and Literacy that was founded in 1987 in Ibambi. Between 1998 and 2001 this same project also mimeographed the first Budu publications through writers’ workshops in Ibambi and Wamba. The first Bible Publication51 in Budu was published in the year 2001. Within 80 years after the first school lesson attended by a Budu speaker, the Budu started their own publications. Broadcasting was more important in terms of national influence of foreign languages than education. The coffee price made televisions obtainable to several Budu traders. From 1967 Congolese national television was broadcast from Kinshasa (Goyaerts 1995). In 1977 television broadcasting was organized to other parts of the country as well, mostly in French (N’sial 1993:127). An increasing number of programmes on television was in Lingala, as this is one of the major languages spoken in the capital. One of the influences of television was the popularity of Lingalophone music from the capital. During the 1970s and 1980s the prices of coffee on the world market enabled Budu coffee farmers to buy televisions and radios which exposed the Budu speaking community to the publicities of luxurious products and the advertisements of a glamorous lifestyle. As for the radio, Calvet (1974:223) mentions two national radio broadcasting stations in Congo in French and in national languages. From 1966 onwards, Swahili broadcasting from Katanga could be heard by Budu speakers (cf. Fabian 1996: 51). Moreover, Budu speakers can receive Swahili radio transmissions from other East African countries. Of all the transmissions, audio drama is the most popular genre of radio-broadcasting next to music. Most broadcasting in the area is in Swahili. The Roman Catholic mission in Ibambi seems to have produced Budu radio programmes. Unfortunately I was not successful in obtaining possible recordings or written scripts.

2.4 Divergency in Budu society

In an evolutionary approach to the development of new conventions for language use, social diversity usually facilitates change. When a population represents an open network that entertains intensive interaction with outsiders, ‘altered replication’ is likely to result in ‘differentiated replication.’ Especially when the innovation is related to perceived advantages, like status and wealth, or simply with a change from the daily life of subsistence farming, the spread of an innovation is likely to happen. While some educated Budu are exposed to French, Swahili, English and Lingala model literary genres that have not yet had the chance to develop in Budu (due to the absence of an orthography until 1996), an even larger group has reduced access to conventional language use. of Congolese music.” On top of that, the use of Lingala in the forced cotton production did contribute to its military connotation. The reputation of production supervisors in Congo, often illiterate soldiers of the military consisted in looting, raping and whipping. For example one administrator reported (Bambili): “While on tour with cotton monitors for ensuring control, policemen committed rape and many lived by plunder.” In 1949 several Mangbetu and Zande women in the Boemi chiefdom were flogged (Likaka (1995: 210/11). The supervisors, who worked as policemen, used Lingala commands in their abuse of power. In a second phase of the forced cotton labour, Lingalophone music was used in film and plays to encourage cotton production by so called cotton festivals (Niangara 1937), where production premiums were on display with signs in Lingala to promote them (Likaka (1995:217). This reputation of Lingala nevertheless never was established within the Wamba district, although the Mangbetu and the population of Niangara are close by enough to exercise some influence in the Wamba district. 49In these domains the printed word consisted of church membership baptism certificate cards, song books, catechism booklets, Bible translations in Swahili (1927) and Bangala (1928). 50The Swahili publication ‘Neno la Imano’ (Word of Faith) distributed by the Congolese Brethren CAFEZA in Nyankunde, was never available to the Budu in the Wamba district. 51This pertains to the translated gospel of St. Luke in both Neta and Koya dialects.

49 School children and traders among the Budu have a decreased exposure to conventional language use. This is similar to the situation in the Bira speaking community in North Eastern Congo, about which the Polish researcher Krzywicki comments that the diminishing use of strictly distinguished genres does by no means imply that the use of genres in itself stopped being important: “Le conte populaire n’est pas un genre mort. Bien au contraire, les contes continuent à être transmis, même si les circonstances dans lesquelles on se raconte ce genre d’histoires ne sont pas toujours les mêmes. Bien d’avantage, ils s’enrichissent par certains côtés, se diversifient et continuent à jouer un rôle culturel important dans des milieux qui n’ont pas, ou ont très peu de contacts avec la littérature écrite,” (1984:434). Krzywicki seems to describe a situation in which those whose are exposed to foreign genres seem to continue the use of traditional Bira genres in a new way. Altered replication of the traditional language use seems to have occurred in that case. It remains to be seen whether this is the case for Budu use of traditional genres. In contrast to Krzywicki, who describes semantic and discourse- features of Bira story genres, I will look at linguistic aspects of language use in Budu, leaving aside semantic features and structural properties of texts (as long as these are not reflected in formal distinctions that can be empirically observed in language use). All the same, the Budu seem to have developed a continued use of language in a society while facing a considerable divergency, as with the Bira.

2.5 Conclusion

The goal of this chapter was to provide an overview of factors that seem relevant to the adoption of new conventions by the entire community. Isolation and Divergence were the two successive phases in the history of Budu society that respectively reinforced conventions and opened the way for altered conventions. The Budu society was politically isolated from other groups. It was neither incorporated in the Mangbetu kingdoms nor deported by the Zande princes or Zanzibari traders. Due to its economic independence as palm oil trading community, it never engaged in relationships with neighbouring groups, other than for music or for the exchange of goods. The Budu speaking community maintained its social cohesion until a combination of Arab traders and Belgian colonialists managed to alter the non-hierarchical leadership to force the exploitation of the territory of Budu lineages. This, in combination to the introduction of a stratified society with paid jobs, contributed to the loosening of social interactions within the village, until the church and its network had developed into a strong community with intensive interethnic interaction with outsiders. This accelerated the integration of new conventions in the entire community. Somehow Christianity and education were embraced by the Budu community in particular. The early success of the Red Cross in the area was inherited by the church when church-related medical services continued most of its work after financial problems forced the Red Cross to limit its activities. However, this probably is not the only factor explaining the openness to change in the Budu speaking community observed by Aunger (1996) and Vansina (1990). It is a challenge to explain the openness of the Budu from internal factors that contributed to its historical development. And yet it is most likely that newly developed patterns of language use represent ‘intrinsically attractive appeals’ because they ‘connect to the cognitive reality’ of the indigenous culture, as Aunger remarks in his observations that refer to the impact of acculturation to eating habits via church affiliation and school attendance (Aunger 1996:216). It is not unlikely that the newly developed patterns of language use will eventually affect the entire community and fulfil a need that has developed in the changed circumstances. Patterns of language use provide an internal clue to the analysis of the observed openness to change, since they provide a means to interpret new genres in relation to the existing dimensions of communication.

50 In this dissertation I will attempt to let the language speak for itself and distil the internal factors that can be discerned from results of a quantitative-comparative approach. I expect that the extreme contrast between the isolation of the Budu community and its observed openness in the period that followed the 1940s resulted in strict conventions for genres of which Budu speakers are conscious enough to playfully exploit them in the quick sequence of developments that result in Budu literacy in the 1990s. I hope that the analysis of patterns of language use helps explaining what could have possibly motivated the acceptance of innovations, such as are observed in the newly developed genres, to be discussed in chapter 8. This dissertation can be seen as a first attempt to come to an analysis that could be much better done by Budu speakers themselves. I readily surrender it for an analysis that is done from an insiders’ perspective.

Appendix 2.A: Indications of Acculturating Forces in Congo

As from the 1970s the representation of Congolese village populations in the church became significant. To give an impression of the membership of the Assemblies of God churches: they counted 40,368 members in 1968, the CECCA 16 churches had 19,550 members in the same year (McGavran and Riddle 1979:119). The number of churchgoing Budu in 2001 can only be estimated, since there are no official numbers. However, given Congo’s fabulous church growth (Mudimbe 1988) of more than 40% since 1968 (McGavran and Riddle 1979), it seems not to be erroneous to estimate that 8 of every 10 Budu speakers attends church on a regular base. In 1979 McGavran & Riddle (p.119) base their percentage of 88,5% churchgoing Congolese for the whole country on a careful comparison between the available statistics. Church organizations in the Budu area pursued medical relief work with hospitals in Nebobongo, Mulita, Isiro and Pawa (where they continued the work of the Red Cross) and in many village clinics. The next overview of the growth of Protestant work is provided here because this church is represented in Ibambi, where the researched corpus was collected. It gives an indication of the role of the Church in Congolese society:

51 years: 1907 1935 1950 1959 mission stations: 29 177 271 345 catechumens 25,000 180,000 275,028 345,473 ordained pastors - 62 166 225 lay pastors - 200 487 11,200 catechists 600 14,398 19,005 20,128 primary schools - 9239 11,534 11,179 pupils 20,488 307,844 387,598 469,667 teacher institutes 1 6 ? 34 technical schools 1 ? ? 34 pupils 30 ? 90 872 special school 96 pupils 2,790 secondary schools 8 10 pupils 411 1,228 medical schools - 17 29 36 pupils - 220 432 586 hospitals and clinics 27 72 171 186 beds in h.and c. - 1,575 6,544 7,717

The first column is based on J. Rambaud, the second on A.R. Stonelake, the third on G.W. Carpenter, and the third on CMN statistics, all quoted in Braekman, E.M. (1961: 348). Unfortunately more region- specific statistics were destroyed in the years 1964-’70 during social unrest (the so called Simba rebellion) (Van Der Poort 1973:47).

52 Chapter 3. Elements of Language Use; a Sketch of Budu

Popoko aka. Popoko bd. bd ya n mas kang. 1. Read here. 2. Read Budu. 3. Budu has its own sounds.

Mas kang ka “a e i o u, n a ”1 4. The sounds are a, e, i, o, u, and a .

fragment from a literacy lesson by Fomuno Alongbaa (May 1996) 3.0 Introduction

In this chapter all the recurring morpho-syntactic categories in Budu language use are presented before they will be listed as labelled in the corpus research of texts in chapter 4. It consists of a brief description of the main linguistic categories in Budu. As linguistic sketch it is ‘brief’ considering various interesting characteristics of a language from the North Eastern borderland of Bantu. Nevertheless, the primary concern is the identification of elements that possibly function as variables of variation across different situations of communication. It is not as exhaustive a description of Budu as the detailed grammatical, morphological and phonological description by Budu speaker Asangama (Asangama (1983)). The present sketch is heavily dependent on the work of Asangama and summarises his findings regarding the linguistic elements of Budu. Where this seems relevant in the light of Bantu linguistics, I will refer to two brief phonological descriptions by Kutsch Lojenga (1994) and Koehler (1995); a paper on Budu discourse by Abati (2003) and finally to my own analysis of discourse.2 All characteristics that relate to Budu as a Bantu language seem relevant in a linguistic sketch of this so- called ‘border Bantu’ or ‘Forest Bantu’ language (Grégroire 2003:343). Furthermore details are included that indicate the extent of interaction between Budu and non- , in an attempt to provide data with the statement that the community of Budu speakers lived as a relatively isolated group; surrounded by non-Bantu speaking groups. A third criterion for relevance that I used to decide whether to include certain details or not is whether it provides the reader with an idea of linguistic processes that facilitated morpheme identification. As a linguistic sketch this chapter accounts for the understanding of Budu that was preliminary to the morpheme identification required for tagging all texts. It follows from this third criterion that the focus of this linguistic sketch is on morphology and syntax. The remarks concerning vowel harmony in this chapter serve to support the morpho-syntactic analysis. For a description of tone rules and phonology I refer to Asangama (1983) and Kutsch Lojenga (1991; 1994). Budu is spoken by an estimated 220.000 people in the Northern Bantu borderland in North East Congo (DRC); an area with notorious borders both between language families and within language families. Grégroire describes the equatorial Forest as ‘the biotope where the Bantu languages border on the Ubangian languages to the West and the Central Sudanic languages to the East, [while borders exist CFK…] also between Bantu languages of the Eastern and the Western block.” (2003:349).

1The non-Roman vowel symbols indicate [-advanced tongue root] vowels, see Koehler, Loren (1995) and Kutsch Lojenga, Constance (1994) for this phonological characteristic of Budu. See also table 3.10. 2I refer to my discourse analysis of some 30 texts that were glossed by Willy Bambinesenge. I also consulted field notes on adjectives by Sabine Brackhahn (1989) and notes on verbal tone by Fred C. Frieke (1996-‘99).

53 3.1 Organisation of this Chapter

Budu is classified as Bantu D-35 or, more general as part of the D-30 group in Guthrie (1948; 1971).This remnant group consists, unlike other groups in Guthrie’s classification, of geographically close languages, such Ndaka (situated to its South) and Mbo (situated to its far South). Other groups are of a linguistically more homogeneous character.3 Bantu languages are grouped together in families because of their lexical similarity and because of similarities in their organisation of grammatical gender and agreement. The characteristics of Budu as a Bantu language are discussed as a point of departure. This makes it possible to comment on its particular characteristics as a Border Bantu language. Since comparative word lists are documented for Budu and related languages (de Wit-Hasselaar 1995), there seems to be no objection to using the classical criterion of lexical similarity as a point of departure (cf. Nurse and Phillipson 2003:166). Budu can be considered a Bantu language of the Bira-Huku (D-30) group established by Guthrie (1948); called D332 in Maho (2003:644). First, remarks about lexical properties will be made. Second, the gender system with its typical Bantu Noun Class system and its agreement through the noun phrase is discussed. Third, the morphological structure of Budu verb phrases is presented. There are several characteristics of Budu verb phrases that require explanation. In comparison to other Bantu languages the most striking feature of Budu verbs is a relatively important lexical distinction for Tense Mood and Aspect (TAM) in contrast to the limited amount of syntactic distinction. Furthermore the discussion of these lexical TAM markings provides illustrations of another particular feature of this Bantu language: the vowel harmony in Budu, described by Kutsch Lojenga (1994) and Koehler (1995). Vowel harmony seems to be rare in other Bantu-language families described so far, whereas it is found in several central Sudanic languages, and in slightly modified form, also in the Budu neighbouring language Ubangian Mayogo as Kutsch Lojenga remarks (2003:452). The particular distribution of this phonological feature in verb phrases facilitates morpheme identification. This phonological particularity that is, as a matter of fact, not reduced to verb phrases. Following the identification of linguistic elements in this chapter, the categories that were tagged for quantitative research are listed in chapter four. Problems encountered in identifying morpho-syntactic categories are also discussed in the following chapter. Orthographic conventions used for Budu transcriptions in the examples are explained in the appendix (to chapter 3).

3.2 Limitations of the present Analysis

The researched corpus is limited to the Neta dialect of Budu. Texts from its four sub-dialects are included (Ineta (by the Timoniko), Isombi (by the Wadimbisa), Koda (by the Makoda), and West Bafwangada (by the Bafanio). These four are referred to in general as Neta. There are two reasons for this limitation.

3Other Bantu language families, also represented in the DRC, are Bantu L and Bantu J with H, K and M (in minor parts of the country). Bantu language families by convention are represented by characters from the alphabet. For example Bantu A, B and C are spoken in respectively Cameroon; Congo (Brazzaville) and in the North Western part of the Democratic Republic of Congo (Kinshasa).

54 First, texts used for this dissertation were selected from a larger corpus base present in the Budu project. This selection of texts in the variety of Budu spoken in Ibambi was accessible for me as an inhabitant of Ibambi. I could discuss (transcriptions of) these Neta texts with Budu project members.4 Second, the Neta variety of Budu was described by Asangama (1983), who wrote a French linguistic dissertation at the Sorbonne while another Neta speaker, Francis Anzalekeyo Abati (2003), in his master’s thesis (Abati 2003) describes some salient characteristics of Budu discourse. The work of these Budu speakers and linguistic analyses of Neta by Kutsch Lojenga (1991; 1994) and Koehler (1995) helped me to interpret language use in the researched corpus of texts. An equally large selection of Budu Koya texts was ignored for research due to practical reasons. I hereby express the hope that more Budu linguists will follow the example of the Budu speakers Anzetaka and Bafau’ndey and describe the Koya variation of Budu in even greater detail than has been done in their master’s theses, due to the limitations of that genre. Anzetaka (2003) focuses on some aspects of discourse analysis while Bafau’ndey (1985) analyses the verbal morphology in the Koy sub dialect.

3.3 Lexical Properties

Budu is the largest Northern Bantu D language group. The only other Bantu-D group that inhabits the area North of the Equator is Lika (D-20). This neighbouring group, situated to the South-west of the Budu, exhibits more similarity with Bantu-C than with Bantu-D Nyali languages. Lika for instance has 60% lexical similarity with Bua while it only has 30 % lexical similarity with Budu (see survey reports by Boone 1995:40,14). One of the main effects of this geographical position of Budu speakers is that they are surrounded by speakers of non-Bantu languages. Over at least four centuries Budu interacted with speakers of Central Sudanic Nilo-Saharan (Mangbetu; Mamvu; Lese) and Adamawa-Ubangian languages (Mayogo; Zande). This interaction is, for instance, reflected in the amount of borrowed elements in these languages. Because borrowed nouns are the easiest to trace, some Mangbetu loanwords are documented in following section to indicate the areas of life that are reflected in this interaction.

3.3.1 Interaction with Neighbouring Language Groups

The interaction with neighbouring language groups is reflected in Budu morphology. In this section two illustrations are provided. The first illustration consists of names of chiefdoms and lineages. The second consists of a list of Mangbetu loanwords that are used with a Bantu plural prefix in table 3.1.. Detailed overviews of chiefdoms and corresponding clan lineages are presented in (Baboya Ilunga (1992)). He gives an impression of the extent of interaction between language groups in the Wamba district of the Eastern Province of Congo. The names of several subgroups in the Wamba district provide illustrations of language contact between the various groups in this densely populated region. The Budu are for instance called Ma-budu by most inhabitants of the region, while the prefix Ma- for people (like in Mayogo) is used by the Mayogo to the North, by the Mamvu to the East and the Meje to the West (Meje is a variety of Mangbetu). The Budu use this prefix ‘ma-‘ themselves for their Northern lineages the Makoda, Mahaa, and Mangbele. Interesting enough, the Southern Mangbetu

4Reasons that could be added are that Budu Neta seems to represent an older and more isolated version of Budu. It for example has /m/ instead of the nasalisation that characterises Budu Koya. The relatively small amount of Mayogo and Mangbetu speakers in the Budu Neta area reduces direct exposure to those non-Bantu languages (see also table 3.2).

55 lineage Ba-byeru has, unlike these Budu lineages, Bantu ba- prefix, while normally this Mangbetu group uses the prefix mava- for people groups (like in Mavazo). Close interaction between this Mangbetu group and the Budu is reflected by the use of this prefix ‘mava- in the form ‘b-ava’ (under influence of Bantu prefix ba- ) in Budu clan names. Vansina explains the occurrence of this Budu prefix in Mangbetu as a prestige-driven innovation in that language (1990:174).5 Furthermore the Lika prefix ‘bafwa-’ has been adopted by the Budu to refer to lineages.6 The Lika ancestor Agbaka is considered as father of his lineage, and his villagers are consequently called Bafwabaka (Ilunga 1992:34), or also, in analogy to the Mangbetu morphology (with bava-) as the Bavagbaka. The names of lineages and chiefdoms in the district Wamba therefore illustrate the cultural and linguistic interaction between three major language families.7 The second illustration of the influence of neighbouring languages consists of a list of Mangbetu nominals that are used in Budu. Budu vocabulary represents a relatively large non-Bantu vocabulary that has been combined with a Bantu morphology. Many Budu words for animated beings carry the Mangbetu prefix na-/ne- in singular to which the Budu prefix ba- is added for plural. These assumedly are loanwords, since na/ne does not behave like a productive prefix in Budu as can be seen from its occurrence in the plural. Table 3.1 is provided to give an impression of such nouns in Koehler’s (2001) 2873 entry lexicon of Budu underived words containing 1792 nouns. It is noteworthy that some words of this list refer to typical savannah animals, like grasshoppers, crickets, and termites. The forest dwelling Budu might have borrowed some of these words from the Nilo-Saharan Mangbetu who originate from the savannah. In material culture several innovations like the curved cereal-harvest knife were adopted from the Sudanic people, as reflected in the nouns that were borrowed.8 Unlike these innovations, all other loanwords are in use next to Budu synonyms and merely reflect the interaction that activates their selection in certain situations of language use (e.g. business and music making):

5Vansina writes about the Budu that: ”Their lineages made such an impression that the [Nilotic] Mangbetu groups began to designate their Houses by the compound prefix Mava, in which va- was taken over from the [Bantu class two prefix] ba- that prefixed Mabodo [sic] names of lineages.” Examples from Baboya Ilunga (1992) are like Bavajua; Bavasoma; Bavasendu; Bavananga; Bavoza; Bavangoa; Bavabaie; Bavandikwa; Bavaoza; Bavakombanza; Bavananzee; Bavasena (1990:174). 6As can be heard in the references to the Bafwagada, Bafwakoy, Bafwabaka, Bafwasende; and the Bafwakwe. 7Contrasting with the interaction between three major language families in the area is their respective interaction with the original inhabitants of Ituri Forest, the Pygmies. Next to speakers of the three mentioned language families, the Wamba district is inhabited by net-hunting Pygmies, called Bá-chwá by the Budu. This Budu name was adopted by the Mangbetu as áswá (singular). Báchwá tend to adopt the language of the farmers whom they interact with most. According to Vansina, Bali and Budu are the only non-Western Bantu languages that use this name for autochthonic forest dwellers (Vansina 1995:279). 8The Mangbetu loanword for ‘pig’ also reflects an innovation. The domestication of pigs was introduced in the area only recently, apparently from the Mangbetu (they were not among the domesticated animals that were introduced by Muslim traders… ). Grinker (1994) claims their introduction among the Lese to be as recent as in the 1980’s. Another ‘foreign’ food category is represented by frogs, which the Mangbetu are uninhibited to consume, while the Budu are afraid to confuse them with very similar but poisonous frogs.

56 Table 3.1: Mangbetu nouns used with Budu class 2 plural formation: nabhálá, small white fish nandndkpl, a type of caterpillar nabhmbha, a type of insect nandkwá, var.:: caterpillar often found near the nandkwa.. bsanga tree nádú, large edible frog nangasa-nangasa, a type of tree nádhi, a rope used for playing nangomú, a type of small fish nádhingbé, a type of snail nanjókolóko, a type of caterpillar var.: nadhingbo.. nadhbb, a type of poisonous insect nanjúu-njúu, chameleon nagoú, chirping cricket nebhalú, the fibre of a banana tree which is used for medicinal purposes. nágundéndé, a type of insect nebhólí, pipe for smoking hemp. nagbáya, a type of frog nébholódhi, thing to sharpen knives nahíi-híi, a type of caterpillar nedíkpo, hair pick often made from bone. nahopí-nahopí, a type of insect nédú, cassava nájb pride nefádha, a type of arrow. nakakal, a type of insect négádhi, a type of vine. nakchala, seed used in shakers nekélo rope wrapped around the feet of a chair to give a coloured design. nakwábodhu, green caterpillar with black nekokó, small wooden drum used as a bands musical instrument. nákpaká-kpaka, winged insect; grub nekpábi, witness. nakpakáwa, insect némbila, traditional clothing made from bark. nákyo,var.: nekye.. very small fish nembíte, a type of ant. nalolí, a type of snail nengobú, traditional clothing. námú, a dam nengóló, tree which produces cloth. namugú, a type of tree nepéle, a type of arrow. namukú, a type of fish nepíte, a type of edible frog. namukwe-namukwe, a type of insect nesíná, feather used to decorate a hat. namutumbó- grub often found in neyóbhang, a type of insect (this might be a namutumbó, firewood compound with bhang ‘escape’ namchkmba, dormant larva just before nbt, worm used for fishing. the adult stage namgagá, black biting insect nbhl,(PL var:ma-) white mushroom which grows on the trunk of a fallen tree or on firewood. namgb, caterpillar (eats leaves of ngbama, young man. bs tree); if it touches the eye it makes a hole there. namgbgb, a type of bird ngbmb, a tail feather. namk, gossip ngyl, bird which eats rice. namkp-namkp, a type of insect nk, a charm used for fortune-telling which is placed inside the hole of a tree. namkyky, termite which destroys nk gbkk shards of pottery used for fortune- houses telling. namngy, bird like a dove nkk, a type of edible insect; grub namnjá, a type of frog nkp blade namwéí-mwéí, a type of insect nmbng, a type of large banana. namwg-mwg, a type of insect nmb, pig (either wild or domestic). nambíbi, termite found in the nngs jigger. savannah nandkáll, bamboo-leaves-eating caterpillar nvánda, ebony diospyros (ebenaceae).

57 3.3.2 Main varieties of Budu and its Dialects

According to Ilunga (1992) the Wamba district entails 10,305 km2 (cf. the size of countries like Jamaica or Lebanon) and is inhabited by speakers of Lika (23.5 %) and Budu (71%). Next to the Lika, two other minorities live in the area, namely the Mayogo (3.6 %) and Mangbetu (of the so called Babyeru lineage 1.9 %). In 1985 the 227.268 inhabitants of the area represent the following homogenous Budu groups, compared for the dialects spoken in each area:

Table 3.2 Budu population count of 1985

North-West (gallery forest and savannah) 25.263 Timoniko; 8.156 Bafanio; (Speakers of Neta) 15.623 and 27.424 Makóda

Centre (gallery forest) Wadímbisa 53.787 (Speakers of Neta/Koya)

South/South-West (dense forest) 25.105 Bafwakóy (Malamba) (Speakers of Koya) (+some Mayogo and Mangbetu + many Lika)

East (forest on the other side of the River Nepoko) 17.600 Máhaá (Speakers of Máhaá)

Table 3.2 visualises the geographic distribution of Budu inhabitants per chiefdom as counted in the population count of 1985 (Ilunga 1992), including two towns. Each town represents a main variety of Budu. For a map see page XVII. First, market town Ibambi is situated in the North-West chiefdom Timoniko. On the Ibambi side of River Nepoko, four Neta dialects are spoken: Ineta (by the Timoniko), Isombi (by the Wadimbisa near town Isiro), Koda (by the Makoda), and West Bafwangada (by the Bafanio), referred to in general as Neta. Neta is the variety of Budu described in the present work. Second, another main variety of Budu is spoken by the inhabitants of the Southern chiefdom Bafwakóy. It includes district capital Wamba with its densely populated area Durunga neighbouring East Bafwangada. Around 1900, this town developed from a settlement of Swahili traders. Its inhabitants speak the main variety Koya, represented by the three dialects East Bafwangada, Kóy (by the Bafwakóyi), and Malamba (or also called Bamba (referred to in general as: Koya). Koya represents another main variety of Budu. Wamba and Ibambi are connected by a road with ferry service across the Nepoko River. Cut off from the rest of the Budu by the River Nepoko, the 17.610 speakers of a third main variety, Máhaá are situated close to gold town Watsa in the Watsa district. These Budu speakers understand the Koya variety of Budu better than the Neta variety (SIL 1989). Asangama even groups the Malamba together with the Máhaá although he is not referring to mutual understanding (1983:16). Grouping this third variety of Budu under Koya, there are altogether four dialects of Budu spoken at the Ibambi side of the Nepoko River and four (including Máhaá) at the Wamba side. Not included in Table 3.2 are the Western chiefdoms Balika Toriko in the proximity of town Isiro and Babubu Malika since they are inhabited mainly by Lika speakers, as is the Malika Bangatsa chiefdom (with its 6.338 Lika speakers). The town of Isiro has a large percentage of Mayogo inhabitants while its language of wider communication is Bangala (a local variety of Lingala)9.

9Van Der Poort 1973:22 refers to percentages of 12,3 % Budu inhabitants of Isiro, 34 % Mayogo, 19,4 % Mangbetu, 10 % Zande, 8,1 % Babua and 16,2 % other ethnic groups. In the population count of 1970 there seem to have been close to 45.000 inhabitants of Isiro.

58 3.3.3 Relation to other Bantu-D languages

Bantu D and particularly D-30 can be characterised as a remnant group, in which all less characteristic Bantu languages of the same geographic area are grouped together. The main difference between Bantu-D languages and other Bantu groups is their underdifferentiation of Noun Class systems. Based on this morphological underdifferentiation, Guthrie’s 1948 classification groups several languages about which, in 1948, Guthrie had virtually no information, in the ‘Bira-Huku’ sub-group of Bantu-D. These are the following (the numbering in brackets is from the Guthrie (1970) list, the plain numbering is from the Bastin (1975:12) and the triple numbers originate from the updated list (Maho 2003:644)).

Table 3.3: Guthrie’s Bira-Huku sub-group of Bantu-D rearranged and extended (following de Wit 1994:13)

Bira: Amba (or: Kwamba, Rwamba, Humu) D-22; Bera (Plains Bira) D-32 (or D-22); Bila (Forest Bira (D 311) D-32 (or D-22); Bhele (or: Pere; Pere) D-31 Komo D-37 (Bastin 1978:147) (or D-23)

Huku: Nyali D-33 Vanuma D-331 (Nyali-Tchabi by the colonial authorities and Nyali-South by some others). Huku D-33 Budu D 332; Ndaka D 333, Mbo D 334 (D-35)

Table 3.3 lists all languages of the Bira-Huku group of Bantu family D together as one, not very homogeneous, group. The empty line in table 3.3 visualises the distinction between the two groups. Each group of related languages is based on lexical similarity (Boone (1995:13)). The first five language groups form the sub-group Bira and the last four language groups the Huku. They are named after representative languages of those subgroups. Huku refers to the non-Bira variation to cover the languages Nyali (Huku), Vanuma, Budu, Ndaka and Mbo.10

3.3.4 Lexical Similarity to other Languages

The Nyali (Huku) variation consists of Nyali, Vanuma, Ndaka, Mbo and Budu and represents a group with lexical similarities varying from 75% to 90%. The high percentage of lexical cognates distinguishes the Nyali group variation from the Bira group.11 Bira is representative of the other main variation distinguished in Bantu-D. The Bira variation includes the Komo and Bhele languages. A comparison of the percentages of cognates between the two different groups within this umbrella group Bantu–D is revealing. The lexical similarity between Bira and Nyali (Huku) languages averages between 20 and 30 percent, as illustrated in the shaded cells of next Table (based on De Wit 1994:13):

10The term Huku was used by the neighbouring Hema to refer to Nyali speakers when they were answering colonial administrators. The latter apparently were not aware of the indistinctive nature of this name. The Hema called all non-Hema speakers Huku in Swahili (‘those‘). Nyali seems a more accurate name than Huku (Hema speaker Bagamba Araali and Constance Kutsch Lojenga both in personal communication) as suggested in previous literature by Asangama (1983:15, Bryan (1959) and Voegelin and Voegelin (1977:62) in de Wit- Hasselaar, 1994:9). 11Lexical similarity is measured using standard word lists and comparing all entries for form and meaning. If both form and meaning are similar, an entry can be considered a ‘cognate’ (for introductions to the development of this presentation of lexical similarity see Bastin, Coupez and Mann (1999: 105-116)).

59 Table 3.4 Lexical Cognates between Bira and Nyali (Huku) Bantu-D groups (de Wit-Hasselaar 1994)

Bira COMPARISON LANGUAGES BIRA GROUP WITH LANGUAGES NYALI GROUP 59 % Bila 56 % 81% Kaiko 57 % 72 % 82% Bhele 58 % 70 % 72 % 80 % Komo 23 % 23 % 21 % 25 % 28 % Budu (Neta) 22 % 21 % 21 % 24 % 28 % 92 % Budu (Koya) 22 % 23 % 22 % 23 % 29 % 85 % 86 % Ndaka 24 % 26 % 25 % 26 % 30 % 78 % 78 % 87 % Mbo 22 % 21 % 21 % 21 % 27 % 74 % 75 % 76 % 77 % Vanuma 22 % 21 % 20 % 22 % 27 % 74 % 73 % 73 % 76 % 85 % Nyali

Table 3.5 presents the percentages of lexical similarity as established through a comparison of a standard list of 252 basic words. For the entire Nyali (Huku) word lists see de Wit-Hasselaar (1995). Budu Neta refers to the variety of Budu spoken in Ibambi, whereas Budu Koya refers to the Wamba variety. The percentages express the amount of cognates in relation to the entire word list used in the comparison. Bira for example has a lexical similarity of 59% with Bila (see leftmost upper cell), whereas Budu Neta has a lexical similarity of 92% with Budu Koya. This means that little over half of the words in the standard word list, that was compared between the languages Bila and Bira, had similar forms and similar meanings, whereas almost all words of the same list were similar (in form and meaning) for Budu Koya and Budu Neta. The percentages of lexical similarity are usually taken as indication of what is to be considered a separate language and what a dialect. Note that both dialects of Budu (Budu Neta and Budu Koya) share 78% similarity with Mbo, as the third row underneath Neta and the second underneath Koya indicate. Although the two main varieties of Budu exhibit 8 % lexical differences in their basic vocabulary they can be considered as one language. A percentage lower than 85% lexical similarity indicates that the compared varieties probably concern different languages. Based on this criterion too, Budu and Ndaka can be considered as different languages. In table 3.5 the similarity between the Huku languages is presented in tree-diagram (de Wit 1994:13):

Table 3.5: tree diagram depicting percentages of cognates found between Huku languages

Budu (Neta) Budu (Koya) Ndaka Mbo Vanuma Nyali

l------l Budu 90% l------l l------l l------l 85% l------l 80 % l------l 75 % l

Table 3.5 does not necessarily reflect genealogical relationship or degree of inter-comprehension, it is designed to expose lexical similarity. Nevertheless all groups involved seem to acknowledge their common descent.12 Although neither common descent nor lexical similarity are neutral notions for those interested in the origin of languages, (as Phillipson and Nurse 2003:166 remark), they merit some attention, considering the Bantu characteristics of the Nyali group and its relative homogeneity in comparison to other languages grouped in Bantu-D.

12A sociolinguistic-survey team reported that Vanuma’s common ancestor Sidhu, has Mombi, Nyali, Buduma and Ndaka for sons (de Wit-Hasselaar 1994:4); while the brother of ancestor Nyali is talked about as Budu (de Wit 1993:5). Other sources refer to the same names in close association. Ilunga reports for example that Budu ancestor Songe is considered to be the father of a man called Budu and of Nyali’s mother (1992:10-11). Towles contends that the Mbo speakers consider both Ndaka and Budu as their ancestors (1993:15-16).

60 3.3.5 Proto Bantu Vocabulary and Budu

Since lexical similarity is the main criterion for the classification of Budu as a Bantu language, some comments considering the Budu lexicon will be made now, prior to the discussion of grammatical gender and verbal morphology. Guthrie, in his principal criteria for Bantu languages, (1948) refers to a reconstructed form of Bantu or to the so called ‘Proto Bantu’ (PB). His lexical criterion is formulated like follows: “The vocabulary can be at least partly related by fixed rules to a set of hypothetical common roots” (1948:10). According to this criterion Budu does not classify as a typical Bantu language, since Budu, like Vanuma (Bryan and Tucker (1959:101) has a large non-Bantu vocabulary. Only 15 words of Vansina’s (1990) list of 129 Proto Bantu words are recognisable in present-day Neta, while three of them possibly have been borrowed from the regional language Swahili (SW): Table 3.6 Proto Bantu words found in Budu di-té ‘war’ from the Proto Bantu word for ‘war’ ditá (SW vi-ta) dyaá ‘hearth; household; fire(place)’ from the Proto Bantu word for ‘home’ dá or yadí dyeétu ‘three’ from the Proto Bantu numeral tátu ‘three’ m-ganjá ‘fellow novice’ from the Proto Bantu word for a ‘boy’s initiation’ gandá; hna ‘to plant’ from Proto Bantu kón- ‘to plant’; kumú ‘ritual village leader’ from Proto Bantu -kúmú ‘leader; big man;’ kwei ‘leopard’ from Proto Bantu goy; ‘leopard’ m-nganga doctor (SW) with plural ba-mnganga from Proto Bantu –ganga ‘religious expert;’ ‘doctor;’ but PL. baganga ‘medicine men’ mu-ngángu ‘sugar-cane’ from mongo var. mongunga/aka Bantu: ‘ngángúlú’ m-chwá ‘Pygmy’ from the Proto Bantu tóá ‘serf’. pémba ‘chalk’ (SW) similar to Proto Bantu for ‘kaolin ’ used also for potting clay and of ritual importance. b-t ‘medicine; tree’ from Proto Bantu té ‘charm medicine’ tna ‘to cut’ from Proto Bantu –ténd- ‘to cut; circumcise’ -ngá ‘pangolin’ from the Proto Bantu -ká tema ‘to cut’ from the Proto Bantu ‘tem’ axe.

However, Budu speaker Asangama lists almost 300 Budu words that can be related to Proto Bantu as reconstructed in Guthrie’s comparative Bantu list (1970) with its 1278 entries (Asangama 1983:32-37). The two comparisons indicate that Budu inherited between 12% and 25% of PB vocabulary, which seems a very low percentage for a Bantu language.

3.3.6 Loanwords from Languages of Wider Communication

3.3.6.1 Loanwords from French

French is the national language used in Congolese education and administration. About 20% of the national population, mainly in urban areas, speaks French. The remaining 80 % is familiar with the sound of French without a full understanding of its contents (N’Sial 1993). To quote an academic writer from North-Eastern Congo about the situation in his home area: “Congolese knowledge of these languages is very limited and their comprehension uncertain. ‘Uncertain’ could merely be an euphemism… In remote villages, mother tongues are permanently used.” (Alo 1999:5).

61 While the main function of regional languages seems to be the expression of solidarity, French on the contrary is the dominant language in institutional settings. The use of French is triggered whenever Francophone institutes, such as schools and government offices, determine the interaction between Congolese citizens. Interaction in the mother tongue occurs outside the realm of the institutional setting. Ethnic solidarity is expressed when Congolese speakers of the same mother tongue meet each other in town or at school at extra-curricular activities. From 1906 French was taught as an obligatory part of the curriculum in the few primary schools that existed at that time (Yates 1980:259). Since most schools were built in mission stations near large plantations, trade languages were taught in the first four years of primary school in order to accommodate children of different ethnic groups which had gathered around the plantations. The obligatory use of French in education formed part of the governmental language planning to develop a labour force that could be supervised by Europeans (Polomé 1968:302). French was established as the obligatory language on several occasions (in 1926, 1938, 1948 and in 1958). French was used as the language of instruction, of labour supervision and as the language of medical diagnosis in the main colonial hospitals of North Eastern Congo (Lyons 1992). Its impact is most clear from the use of ‘neutral’ French words as scolding expressions even when their original meaning was not pejorative (cf. Bloch 1998 about a similar situation in Madagascar). Budu integrated several French words within its morphology. Consider table 3.7:

Table 3.7 French loanwords in Budu

Budu word French meaning French meaning if different amandi amande fine amiba (ba-) amoebe amoeba (used in scolding) asmbe assemblée (-s) reunion avio avion aeroplane bhdo (ba-) bidon jerry can dispasele dispensaire medical clinic ll (ba-) erreur error (used mockingly to tease peers) fu (-ma) fou (x) idiot (used in scolding) gbanda lateral bandes latérales mutual affection between (idiomatic expression) friends sda (ba-) soldat (-s) soldier bhandit(ba-) bandit (-s) criminal (used in scolding) katakmny catéchumène(s) catechetical teacher bhasíni, (ba) bassin (-s) basin ma-sl (ba-) ma soeur missionary lady any unmarried woman ma-toko-sikope microscope microscope dhnd, (ba-) dindon (-s) turkey i-famili famille(-s) family -flm (be-) infirmière (s) nurse kamerades* (ba-) camarade(s) fellow kalasi classe school school class kilomtl kilomètre kilometre kobhaye (ba-) cobaye guinea pig kmanda commandant commander klg (ba-) collègue(-s) colleague lap, (ba) lapin (-s) hare lómelo numéro ordinal number lptál l’ hôpital hospital

62 mdl y (selon la) modèle like; according to de nv nouveau (adj. new (adj.) masc.) palasl parcelle compound pastl pasteur preacher pastor ma-likucha maracuja (-s) passion fruit radio radio radio sst, (ba) chaussette(-s) sock salubéti sale bête ! dirty animal (scolding people) (in French these are two words) -mánga, () mangue(-s) mango -->is not equal to manga ‘pepper’) vl (ba-) vélo (s) bicycle

The typical CV structure of Bantu words is maintained by the insertion of vowels in French loanwords. Microscope becomes, by use of inserted vowels to establish the canonical Budu syllabic structure CV, matoko-sikope ‘microscope; classe kalasi,; parcelle ‘palasl ‘compound’;’ pasteur pastl ‘pastor;’ ’kilomtl ‘kilometre;’ and salle bête salubéti ‘dirty animal!’ In matoko-sikope ‘microscope;’ the ma- seems to be interpreted as class prefix, similar to the l- in l-ómelo ‘number’, which origin can be understood as reinterpretation of the n- as foreign prefix that is replaced by another, apparently less foreign l- prefix from Lingala. In all other Budu words the French13 velar phoneme /X/ ‘r’ and its liquid /l/ ’l’ are both alike replaced by one liquid lateral sound. Table 3.7 has some exceptions with velar fricative ‘r’ in the French bandes lateral, camerades and in radio. In particular the expression bandes lateral’ seems to represent a petrified expression that is imitated in exposure to broadcasting. Apart from these exceptions a lateral pronunciation tends to replace the French ‘r’ and ‘l’ alike.14

3.3.6.2 Loanwords from Lingala

Lingala is a Bantu language spoken in the North most part of Eastern Congo, to the North of the Budu area. Isiro is the city that is closest to the Budu area (75 kilometres from Ibambi). This city is Lingalophone with a regional version called ‘Bangala’ (Samarin 1991:70,71 and Mufwene 2001:199). I

13French used to be spoken by colonial agents. The Belgians pronounce the French ‘r’ with tong tip (Piet van Reenen personnal communication). 14This change can be explained from the perceived similarity between liquid laterals in French and in Budu. In Budu, the liquid lateral occurs intervocallically and (under influence of Lingala) in prefixes where it represents an allophone of the alveolar with ingressive air. In Budu phonemes with alveolar articulation have two alternative pronunciations. Although both realisations have ingressive lung air, root-initial phonemes exhibit a flapped pronunciation, while in all other positions the alveolars have a liquid-lateral realisation. Although the sound is also made by a (brief) flap to the alveolar ridge, the tongue tip is rectracted in the direction of the post- alveolar regions. The particularity of this sound is, “that one side of the tongue remains so low that air can flow continuously through a lateral escape channel, resulting in something that sounds like [r] and [ l] alike” (cf. Ladefodged and Madieson 1996:243 about flapped laterals). It follows from this perspective that Budu speakers perceive the French ‘r’ and ‘l’ as allophonic realisations of one and the same phoneme. The loanwords lapin ‘hare,’ and lptál ‘hospital’ suggest that their first syllables are interpreted as prefixes (as in lomelo ‘number’) and not as root-initial morphemes, in contrast to the first syllable of radio. This word is pronounced with velar ‘r’ like the ‘r’ in kame-rades, possibly conditioned by its root-initial position. The examples in the collection of loanwords are insufficient to provide evidence for this tentative hypothesis. They nevertheless reinforce the impression that the morphological position of a lateral phoneme determines its phonetic realisation even in French loanwords. See appendix 3A for explanations about Budu orthography.

63 will use the term Lingala, as this reference is used in North-eastern Congo by the speakers themselves. They use the reference ‘Bangala’ for the mix of ethnic groups who live along rivers in that part of the Democratic Republic of Congo. It is noteworthy that Lingala loanwords are virtually absent from Budu, as far as I could determine with my limited knowledge of Lingala. There are some exceptions like mwaná ‘child’ and mütïmá ‘heart’, which Budu speakers claim to originate in Budu itself. Lingala, like Budu, is a Bantu language. It seems to have influenced Budu in the syntactic domain, with, for example, its plural formation with prefix li- , as will be explained in section 3.4.1. Code switching is responsible for the considerable frequency with which Lingala words are used in Budu joking or boasting. The only genre in which Lingala words occur with significant frequency is drama. In theatre the mere use of Lingala caricatures soldiers. Their short loose commands on the stage are used in imitation of the incoherent utterances that soldiers are perceived to make relative to the ongoing discourse between citizens. Also young adults tend to use Lingala for code-switching when they boast or commandeer. Probably they are inspired by their encounters with Lingalophone soldiers in the urbanised centres where schools are situated. Maybe some ambivalence towards the use of Lingala is reflected in the virtual absence of Lingala loanwords in Budu and also in use of the language to boast or commandeer. This might be explained by its use by successive regime’s oppressive soldiers, starting with the Congo Free State colonial army in 1891, until Mobutu’s virtually unpaid soldiers who used Lingala for the enforced collection of commodities or to demand favours of citizens. Only more recently, as from 1977 when Lingalophone music started to be broadcast nation wide, “the use of Lingala began to evoke connotations with the fast and easy life enjoyed by musicians and singers” (cf. de Rooij 1996:48). Parts of Lingala song lyrics started functioning as popular sayings. The examples which Goyaerts gives for Bukavu are valid for the Ibambi area as well: kobeta libanga struggle to survive; madesua ya bana beans for the children (in the sense of ‘bribe’); tika mwana ‘leave the child alone’ (used to warn old men to not ask for sexual favours); nakolia yo ‘shall I eat you’ (used to asked for a bribe) (1995:312).

3.3.6.3 Loanwords from Swahili

Swahilophone resident communities of traders from Zanzibar influenced the Budu culture and language between 1887 and 1920. Their leader Tippu Tib temporarily settled several Swahili speaking communities in a place called Wamba in reference to the palm trees for which the Budu are famous. During Zanzibari business Wamba developed into a town inhabited by Budu traders and porters. Even after the colonial intervention in 1897, when Zanzibari traders were violently stopped from exploiting the area, some Swahili families remained in Wamba. A standardised form of Swahili, spoken in Tanzania, is referred to as Swahili Boar by the Congolese. This official Swahili is distinguished from the Congo Swahili (Kingwana) that developed from the contact between Congolese and speakers of the kiUnguja dialect of Zanzibar.15 The Swahili regional language in the Wamba district is a local variation of one of four Languages of Wider Communication (LWC) spoken in Congo. This regional language is used in the entire area where the Zanzibari traders had their sphere of influence from 1874 onwards. Today a quarter of Congo’s entire population is using Swahili as their first language (N’Sial 1993:129,130).16 Swahili is used to express solidarity between Congolese citizens from different areas. The church setting triggers the use of Swahili in inter-ethnic meetings similar to the effect of school setting as mentioned for French. While the Isiro-bound Mayogo use Lingala, other language groups

15On the history and status of Swahili see Myers-Scotton (1993) and Fabian (1986). 16N’Sial 1993 based his conclusions on a thorough comparison of no less than nine statistical researches, of which he discusses three.

64 involved in church meetings of CECCA 16 use Swahili. The diplomatic use of this trade language reinforced the desired cooperation between language groups. Therefore the choice of Swahili was considered as inevitable in the development of regional societies (cf. Van Der Poort 1973:240). Like the Swahili of former Muslim traders in the area, the Swahili of church leaders invokes connotations with its religious context as they too refer to one Creator God Mungu ‘God’ while also representing a ‘book’- based religion (kitabu). Despite the institutional effect of the church in larger meetings, the importance of vernacular languages is emphasized during sub-committee meetings, when speakers of the same mother tongue meet. These church sub-committees are comparable to the growing ethnic associations in Eastern Congolese towns, reflecting as Alo (1999) observes “the reflex of survival [which] pushes people to cling to their traditional communities. Even in towns, close-knit networks are maintained through ethnic associations called in French mutualités ‘benefactor friendly societies’. Their meetings are held in most cases in mother tongues.’’ From 1980 onwards, language committees for the development of vernacular languages were organised upon instigation of the regional umbrella Protestant church organisation CECCA 16 in the area around its head quarters in Isiro. All discussions about this development are held in the regional languages Lingala and Swahili. Although Swahili as a Bantu language has a morphology that is similar to Budu, some Swahili loanwords are integrated entirely, including their prefixes, resulting in the attachment of Budu prefixes to complete Swahili words.17 Examples are:

Table 3.8 Swahili loanwords in Budu

Budu word from Swahili SW meaning: Budu meaning á-mb, (bá-) mbu (SG and PL) mosquito(s) one single mosquito b-sáa (noun) ku-sahau (INF) to forget forgetting i-ndíma (l-) ndimu (SG and PL) lemon -báta (li-) batá (ma-) duck bhala barua letter; school -fngla (ma-) ki-fungula (vi-) key -kf (ma-) kofi (ma-) fist i-paipái, (ma-) papai, (ma-) French: papaya pawpaw -pá (ma-) pau (mapao) long thin piece of iron ; shovel spoon -pla (ma-) pera (ma-) (from the English pear) guava -táb (l-) ki-tabu (vi-) Book text ;writing -tanda (l-) ki-tanda (vi-) bed (m-)kanisa (ma-) kanisa church church kawa kahawa coffee i-nanási, (ma) nanasi, (ma-) French : ananas pineapple ma-lmb ma-ombo ; ma-ombi prayer m-nganga, mu-ganga, (ba-) doctor medical assistant PL:bamnganga; Mungu Mungu God (the Creator) m-pánga, (m-) panga (ma-) machete ; large knife m-pnga mpunga (SG and PL) rice (the crop) rice (ready to eat or crop) nama (ba-) nyama (wa-) (nama = soft) animal

17 Similarly some Swahili loanwords have been incorporated in Swahili as loans from yet other languages. For instance the prefix ki- in kitabu ‘book’ actually belongs to the root of this Arab derived Swahili word. However, in analogy to nouns prefixed by ki-, the sound ki- is interpreted as prefix and the word accordingly has vi-tabu as its plural. In Budu these Swahili prefixes consequently have been replaced by Budu prefixes.

65 ndka ku-andika to write ndk(l) (ba-) ndugu (wa-) relative ps, (ba-) posho verb: to hand out weekly salary saán, (ba-) sahani (SG and PL) plate sabma, (ba-) sabuni (SG and PL) (French : savon) soap tmba tuma to send -bá, (ma-) u-mbao PL mbao board ; blackboard ; plate board -chpa (-) chupa (SG and PL) spoon spoonful -sja, (-) soya (SG and PL) soya bean w-atungbúlu, (ma-) ki-tunguu (vi-) onion (matunguu = onion; shallot wild cardamom) b-ng (noun) wongo (ADI) uwongo is the SW noun ; falsehood ; lies bongo = brain

Many of these loanwords represent class 5 nouns. This Swahili class has no nominal prefix and is used to denote plural and singular alike. In Budu most of them get class 5 prefixes i- , while some are interpreted as class 11 nouns with Budu prefix u-, for instance papai ‘pawpaw fruit’ becomes i- paipái; while soya becomes -sja ’one bean of soya’ due to the respective sizes of pawpaw fruit and soya beans (small plant products tend to get U- prefixes). Swahili prefixes are not always recognised in Budu morphology. For example the singular prefix MU- in m-nganga ‘doctor’ is not omitted in the Budu plural ba-m-nganga ‘doctors.’ This anomalism differentiates the loanword from the plural baganga, from the Budu word nganga ‘healer’. It is rather unusual that m-nganga has H in the Budu prefix. This tone reminds of the H in (petrified) prefixes of many nouns denoting small animals in Bhele, Komo and Budu, like in the noun on the first line.18 The word m-nganga often refers to the medical assistant to the doctor (the ‘junior’ doctor). The H seems productive as diminutive in this example.

18Budu has a considerable set of nouns denoting small animates or plant product(s). They exhibit a H realisation on the prefix that seems related to a floating H. The first indication that a floating H can be attributed to diminutive formation in Budu, as in some other Bantu D languages, is the productivity of H in loanwords. Furthermore the semantic properties of the fixed set of H toned nouns seem to indicate a diminutive formation. Phonological properties indicate the independent status of the H. Most floating H’s cannot be explained as leftward spread of the noun root melody. It occurs in L noun roots, in consonant-initial noun roots and in trisyllabic vowel initial noun roots that normally have a toneless prefix/root merged TBU. An additional indication of floating H diminutive formation on nominal prefixes is the predictable occurrence of a rising tone on those TBU’s with depressor onset that follow a prefix with H, since in most other cases where H follows another H, a depressor effect is neutralised (no R). This effect of Budu depressor consonants on any second TBU with H seems to support the assumption that Budu has a diminuitive formation with floating H that is attached to the nominal prefixes. In his article on Bantu derivation, Schadeberg relates the diminuitive derivation partly to the use of class 12/13 kà-/TU. He mentions the possibility that small animates in some Bantu languages are “assigned to these classes, that have very few nouns inherently assigned to them,” (2003: 83). Another diminutive formation mentioned by Schadeberg is the use of a derived noun prefix placed before the ‘inherent noun prefix, (rather than substituted for it).’ This last possiblility of diminutive formation is probably responsible for the H with which some Budu nouns are realised. My investigation of the semantic properties of 194 Budu nouns with H prefixes (out of 1792 nouns) confirmed my impression that nouns with attachment of H to their prefixes have a diminutive sense. A fixed set of nouns with H attached to their prefix denote insects, grubs, caterpillars, fishes, herbs, small tools or childrens games/songs/habits. Some words refer to culturally despised persons or characteristics, such as ámbamba ‘anxiety; illusion’ or ímbekédu ‘a spoiled thing’ jangw ‘a prostitute’. However, diminutive derivation by H tone attachment to prefixes is not entirely predictable since not every small animate being or plant(product) is denoted with H-prefixed nouns. In contrast, the diminutive formation seems to be productive in Swahili loanwords, like: á-mb (bá-)’mosquito’ (as in Komo D-37, Paul Thomas personal communication) and m-nganga, (ba-) ‘(medical assistant to) doctor.’ For Komo see also Thomas’ sample of 22 high-prefixed nouns (1994:181). Noun prefixes are DL except in case of a remnant diminutive pre-prefix. Derivation with pre-prefixes to noun classes is not uncommon in certain Bantu languages. An example of such a pre-prefix is provided by Grégoire

66 Another example where the Budu morphology is imposed on Swahili loanwords is the Swahili noun matungulu ‘onion’, in which the ‘ a’ apparently is interpreted as root (with plural class 6 prefix ma-) and consequently prefixed with u- for singular: w-atungbúlu ’one single onion.’ A third type of borrowing is represented by the Budu word bongo ‘lies’, which is based on reinterpretation of the Swahili adjective wongo ‘false’ as class 14 noun with prefix b-. The loanwords in table 3.8 not only show the impact of Budu morphology, they also reflect Swahili cultural influence on Budu culture to be considerable. Taken into account that this overview represents all Swahili loanwords in Koehler’s (2001) 2873 underived-words lexicon, one can conclude that one third is related to food (fruits, cooking utensils), while various words relate to literacy (like (writing) board, book, writing) and other innovative elements of the Swahili life style (key, salary, bed, soap). The Polish explorer Czekanowski observed the use of literacy among the Swahili traders in the Wamba area when he travelled through the Budu area in 1918. He writes about the community of Swahili traders: “Manche verstehen mit arabischen Lettern Suaheli zu schreiben. In der Nahe von Mawambi kam ich an einer Schule vorbei. Die Kinder hatten Bretter [the loanword mbao!] mit aufgeschriebenen arabischen Alphabet un riefen laut in einem Chor, ganz wie in einer Judenschule, die Namen der Buchstaben aus” (1924:250). In contrast to the use of literacy in Arab schools, literacy practices of the traders outside their own school context were rarely noticed. Czekanowski mentions for example, that he never ‘caught his travel companion in the act of reading’ his hand carried ‘kitabu’ (book). This travel companion, nevertheless a Koran teacher, only once asked Czekanowski for writing paper (1924:252). For the rest of his trip paper was only requested by the Swahili ladies in the area, who needed it for their earring fabrication. It therefore seems legitimate to conclude that Congolese language groups were not exposed to a functional literacy among the Wangwana.19 While the Swahili lexicon influenced Budu to a considerable extent, due to the intense interaction with the Zanzibari traders in Wamba, the syntax also had its influence as the frequently used Budu collocations nabo ‘with them’ and nayo ‘with her/him’ illustrates. These fixed combinations have an a in their first syllable, like in Swahili, whereas no a exists in the composing elements in Budu.

3.3.7 Phonological Similarities to Other Languages

In the area of phonology, Budu has been influenced in particular by Central Sudanic languages such as Mangbetu (see table 3.2). This is obvious from, for example, the occurrence of the phoneme ‘ngb’ (like in Mangbetu) in Budu. Like the Central Sudanic Mangbetu, Budu has contrastive labio-velar pairs of consonants such as gb, kp, and the prenasalised velar ngb (as in the word matungbulu ‘onions’). Other prenasalised stops are mb, nd, ng, ngy, nj.20 A voiced fricative occurs prenasalised mv in less than ten words. This influence of Mangbetu is typical for Budu. Especially labio-velars occur rarely in Bantu in general. A second area in which the influence of non-Bantu languages can be observed is tone. “There is a particularly strong tendency to avoid rising tones in Bantu,” as Kissebeth and Odden observed (2003:66). Bantu languages tend to have four basic tone patterns that make use of L and H (H, L, HL and LH). However, Budu has a tonemic Rising tone (R) that can not be interpreted as LH sequence. R in Budu can be explained as depressor effect of certain voiced consantants on the realisation of high tone (H) (Kutsch Lojenga 1994:128). However, since not all consonantal onsets that cause this R can be observed in the present state

(2003:362) in her article on Forest Languages, where she mentions the Nyanga (D43) á pre-prefix that can apparently be attached to all nominal classes. In Budu H assignment to nominal prefixes seems to be exploited in a small set of Budu nouns of various nominal classes with either diminutive or pejorative connotations. This pre- prefix is distinct from the remnant of gá- pre-prefixes for a subclass 1, designating members of the family. 19In contrast, other aspects of the Zanzibari (‘Arab’) culture seem to have influenced Budu culture. The Budu custom of avoiding eye contact in conversations with the older and more important persons may origin in interaction with Swahili traders. The Budu themselves have no social ranking but avoid eye contact to emphasise gender and age differences. 20Not included in this list is the nasal resonant ny.

67 of Budu, as they are lost in diachronic processes, the R has become tonemic.21 For example in syllables that start with an ‘h’ in Budu H becomes R, although there is no voiced consonant in its onset. This ‘depressor’ effect, as it is called, is related to a prior phase of Budu. Proto Bantu CS 897 *-gunda ‘garden,’ that in D27 lost its initial –g, seems to be related to the Budu verb húna ‘to plant’ (with rising tone). Despite its voiceless nature, the /h/ is part of the set of depressor consonants reminiscent of the /g/ which it probably replaced in certain contexts. The R in Budu is related to a depressor effect that is not always phonologically conditioned in the present state of the language. In 1% of all verbs R results from a prior phase of the development of words as the Proto Bantu example suggests. A third area in which Budu phonology exhibits similarities with non-Bantu languages is vowel harmony. Budu has a system of vowel harmony that is based on the position of the tongue. In particular whether the root of the tongue is advanced or not is relevant for this system. Therefore the tongue root position is denoted as plus Advanced Tongue Root or minus Advanced Tongue Root: [+ATR] or [-ATR]. An identical vowel harmony system that, like Budu, includes nine vowels, can be observed in the Mangbetu (Central Sudanic) language spoken to the Northwest of the Budu and a slightly modified vowel harmony in the Mayogo (Ubangian) language of the Northern neighbours of the Budu. Although Budu speakers and their Northern neighbours have been in close interaction over the past ages, this does not imply that vowel harmony origins in non-Bantu. Kutsch Lojenga contends that at least several Bantu-D languages of the Nyali (Huku) group exhibit a nine vowel system with vowel harmony (2003:452). The Budu vowel system of nine vowels exhibits cross- height vowel harmony of the type characterised by the phonological feature of Advanced Tongue Root [ATR]. 22 The vowels that exhibit [-ATR] quality in Budu are denoted in Budu orthography as a, ,,, and . They pair up with the a, i, e, o, and u. The vowel ‘a’ is neutral with regards to ATR quality. The vowel- harmony in the phonological word is evident through examination of vowel co-occurrences in disyllabic noun roots, harmony of verbal affixes and harmony of numeral roots. I refer to Kutsch Lojenga (1994) and Koehler (1995) for a fuller description of this phonological feature of Budu, of which I only summarise the main characteristics. Vowels from the group /i e o u/ never occur in the same disyllabic noun root as vowels from the group / /. Root vowels determine the vowel quality of both preceding syllables and verbal extensions. An exception is the causative extension –iso, which always maintains its own vowel quality and even causes the rest of the phonological word to be pronounced with Advanced Tongue Root, changing prior verb roots to a variant with Advanced Tongue Root pronunciation. According to the convention I sometimes use capitals to

21Budu rising tones (R’s) occur in 99% of all cases with depressor consonants. The exceptional 1 % occurs in some class 1a mominal references to relatives. Rising tone is caused by a depressor effect of voiced consonants in their syllabic onset. This set of voiced consonants was documented for Budu verbs by Asangama (1983). In his three verb groups (H, L and LH (rising tone) verbs), the LH verbs are invariably conditioned by depressor consonants (cf. Abati (2003). Kutsch Lojenga (1994), suggests the depressor effect in the consonsants [b],[ d], [dz], [gy], and [gb], [v] and [h] (1994: 128), or in Budu orthography the bh, dh, j, gy, gb, v and h. The set is ‘to be investigated, data not yet being completely consistent’ according to Kutsch Lojenga (same page, footnote 2). My own field work with Mr. Bayaka in 1995 suggests that of these consonants the v, gy and j were not exhibiting a depressor effect, while all the other consonants mentioned by Kutsch Lojenga were. This needs to be mentioned for the interest of future research, although it is beyond the scope of this thesis to document these remarks. 22In most West African languages the pronunciation of vowels exhibits differences as to the position of the tongue root (Ladefoged 1964 in Ladefoged and Madison 1996:300). ‘Advanced Tongue Root’ is a minor feature of vowel pronunciation which has replaced the terminology Tense/Lax. Lindau (1975) in Ladefoged and Madison (1996:300) convincingly presented Akan vowels in two distinguished sets; one without and one with advanced tongue root. Advanced tongue root can be described as resulting enlargement of the whole pharyngeal cavity while the larynx lowers in the meantime. This enlargement is noticeable in a different acoustic quality of the vowel, that sometimes is described as ‘brighter’ than the so called [–ATR] counterparts. The feature ATR is used to describe the advancement of the tongue root as a phonological property of entire words (root + affix) with differing rules per language (or sometimes even dialect, as in Budu). Such African languages with harmony of the ATR quality of the vowels in a certain domain (e.g. the phonological word) can be compared to Finno-Ugritic languages with harmony of the backness quality of vowels (Lund, Magnus 1992:77, Hungarian Phonology and Morphology, Lund Un. Press).

68 denote that vowels in a certain morpheme may represent either [ATR] or [- ATR] value, depending on their phonological environment. Instead of either u or , U is used in such case, for instance. In order to explain how this characteristic of Budu facilitated the identification of morpho-syntactic categories in this research, this chapter contains many illustrations of vowel harmony. The first examples are merely expository and limited to the noun. The distribution of ATR in Budu nouns illustrates that vowel Harmony is maintained throughout the word.23 The two sets of vowels, one with ATR and one without ATR, therefore occur in two sets of nouns. The –ATR pronunciation [a] can be heard in the top group of nouns of table 3.10, for example :

Table 3.10 Advanced tongue root as property of entire words

knd ‘hand’ mgynd ‘road’ bs ‘cola nut’ mkmb ‘punishment ; fine’ dk ‘woman’s knife’ fngla ‘key’ (from Swahili) gabh ‘price’ mukóbí ‘wooden mortar’ mombí ‘person’ mupíyoó ‘bird’ (species) ufíni (ma-)’kitchen; fire place’ tibí ‘faeces’ seki ’turtle’ ikanio ‘temptation ; test’

Second, verbs can be grouped into two main verb groups depending on their vowel quality. There are the –ATR verbs which have a pronunciation of the vowels as [a]: bnda ‘knock ;beat’ hna ‘to plant’ bhbha ‘praise’ pna ‘to wear’ nta ‘to deliver’ kpkma ‘to shake’

All the previous infinitives end in final vowel -a. Budu also has [+ ATR] verbs with a pronunciation of the vowels like [a e i o u]. All those [+ ATR] verbs end on final vowel –o : deto ‘to climb’ ngúso ‘to raise’ kío ‘circumcise ; cut’ nácho ‘to turn ; to translate ; to twist’ bóto ‘to hold’ tubónokio ‘to be build’

After this presentation of the basic lexical and phonological properties, the main morpho-syntactic syntactic categories are now presented. More examples on vowel harmony occur in the section on verbal derivation.

23Compound words are not seen as unity and therefore may contain syllables of both [+ ATR] and –ATR. This is most clear from loanwords: kilomtl ‘kilometre’ Both kilo ‘kilogram’ and mtl ‘meter’ are used as single words in Budu. Other compound words are kis-bá ‘terrific’ (a-kíso ‘to flow over; to abound with’ and bá ‘fear’); Aso-b ‘creator God (literally : ‘He moves/sets off’ + ‘the universe’); baknd-an-ingwo they-love during mourning’; the name k-mbali 'also a-chance’; and j-ak-mesu/jakmesu 'peace in the eyes’ (has the meaning of ‘faking joy’).

69 3.4 Noun Phrase Morphology

In section 3.3 lexical similarities between Bantu languages were mentioned as one of the main criteria of Bantu languages. Another important criterion is the organisation in grammatical gender and agreement. Nominal classification is related to class concord throughout the noun phrase (NP). This section presents several NP formations used for noun modification. Constructions with adjectival, possessive and prepositional modification will be illustrated together with associative constructions. In the discussion of the properties of Budu as a language with noun classification, I will refer to the scholar who established the main criteria for Bantu languages, Guthrie, which seems relevant in the discussion of Budu as a border Bantu language. Budu is fulfilling one of Guthrie’s principal criteria for Bantu languages because its nouns can be ‘assorted into a number of classes’ distinguished by ‘grammatical gender’ (1948:10). ‘The sign of a gender is a noun-class prefix.’ Whereas French has two genders with two separate articles ‘le’ or ‘la’ Budu has thirteen. Budu also has Noun Class distinctions for thirteen different Noun Classes. Some Noun Classes exhibit identical noun prefixes, however, these classes exhibit distinct agreement markers in the noun phrase. Compare for example class 1 and 3 (both prefixed with MU-) in table 3.12. These classes only differ by their anaphoric determiner (‘that-one-there’) resulting in thirteen differentiated Noun Classes in Budu. Some classes are used for singular only and require other classes for their plural formation.

Table 3.12 Budu Anaphoric Determiners ranged according to Noun Class Noun Class 1 mu-bhika ng–a-k CL-visitor DET-REL-ANAP H T hat visitor there (GIVEN INFO) + modifying Relative Clause Noun Class 1a á-bhaa ng–a-k CL-father DET-REL-ANAP H T hat sir there (GIVEN INFO) + modifying Relative Clause Noun Class 2 ba-gbeé ng-ba-b CL-little.bell DET-REL-ANAPH T hose bells there (GIVEN INFO) + modifying Relative Clause Noun Class 3 mu-genú ng-wa-w CHL- story DET-REL-ANAP That story there (GIVEN INFO) + modifying Relative Clause Noun Class 4 mi-genú ng-ya-y CL-story DET-REL–ANAPH T hose stories there (GIVEN INFO) + modifying Relative Clause Noun Class 5 i-dyo ng-ya-y CHL- food DET-REL–ANAP That food there (GIVEN INFO) + modifying Relative Clause Noun Class 6 ma-dyo ng-ka-k CHL-food DET-REL–ANAP Those meals there (GIVEN INFO) + modifying Relative Clause Noun Class 7 -kym ng-y-y CL-thing DET-REL-ANAPH That thing there (GIVEN INFO) + modifying Relative Clause Noun Class 8 l-kym ng-l-l CL-thing DET-REL–ANAPH T hose things there (GIVEN INFO) + modifying Relative Clause Noun Class 9 dyakaka ng-y-y To.eat-REP DET-REL-ANAPH T hat eating there (GIVEN INFO) + modifying Relative Clause Noun Class 10 slng ng-ya-k CL-peanut DET-REL–ANAP H T hose peanuts there (GIVEN INFO)+ modifying Relative Clause Noun Class 10a gbeé ng-ya-k Little.bell DET-REL–ANAPH T hat bell there (GIVEN INFO) + modifying relative clause) Noun Class 11 -slng ng-wa-w CL-peanut DET-REL-ANAPH That peanut there (GIVEN INFO) + modifying relative clause Noun Class 14 bu-buto ng-ba-b CL-heaviness DET-REL–ANAPHT hat weight there (GIVEN INFO) + modifying Relative Clause

70 Each noun phrase in table 3.12 can be used as independent utterance. In such independent utterances the determiner, in combination with the relative pronoun, functions as demonstrative pronoun. In contrast, in noun phrases with extension the determiner is part of modifying clauses such as: matindindi ngkak s n ínye bnkdyakaka ‘the fruits, which mom and dad used to eat.’ In such modifying clauses the combination determiner + relative pronoun functions as antecedent of the relative clause. Modifiying clauses are not obligatory, as indicated by the + sign in table 3.12. Table 3.12 gives an overview of the distinctions of the thirteen Budu Noun Classes. From this overview it is clear that the noun-class prefixes are not the only distinctions. Also bound morphemes such as Relative Pronouns (REL in the glosses) depend on the noun class of the reigning noun. Their form thereby distinguishes the class of the noun. In merger with anaphoric – akê ‘there’ the relative pronoun looses its final vowel. Whereas akê ‘there’ also occurs in isolation, the bound anaphor is dependent on the class of the head noun that precedes it and has widely varying forms. Most relative pronouns have either a consonant or a semi-vowel, except for the first class bound pronoun a ‘him; her.’ The absence of a semi-vowel in first-class prefixes can be observed where it blocks vowel merger, as in associative constructions.24 Unlike in the anaphoric extension the absence of a semi-vowel can be observed in such cases. Some prefixes look identical, while corresponding bound prefixes differ. Whereas class 1 nouns agree with the determined anaphoric expression ngiak,class 3 nouns agree with nguwaw. Furthermore class 5 and 7 have both have vowel prefix I-, but display different bound prefixes in the Noun Phrase, class 5 agreeing with the anaphoric (i-dyo) ngyay ‘that food’ and class 7 with (-kym) ngyy ‘that thing’ (differences underlined). In contrast, some identical extensions like the ones with class 4 and 5 ngyay belong to distinct Noun Classes, illustrated in table 3.12. Class 4 has noun-prefix MI- whereas class 5 has I-. The vowels of most noun prefixes correspond to the vowels in the bound prefixes. Class 3 and 11 have distinct prefixes MU- and U- while their anaphoric extensions both have the vowel U in ngwaw.Other noun classes have prefix consonants that are clearly related to their bound prefixes, like class 2 and 14 that both have ngbab for extension. Therefore, distinctions between noun classes are made by agreement in the noun phrase. Class distinctions are expressed by a combination of the noun-class prefix and bound prefixes. Commenting on overview 3.12, a few particular characteristics of the noun class system need to be remarked concerning location and family members. Unlike central Bantu languages with their nominal affixes for location, Budu expresses location by prepositions (Grégoire 2003: 358). The second peculiar characteristic relates to family members. In Budu a special subclass of class one (the class for animates with MU- prefix) is also used for animate beings. This subclass consists of A- or zero prefixed nouns. Like in other languages spoken to the Northeast of the equatorial forest, only a small number nouns prefixed a- designate animals and plants. Budu extraordinarily groups some names for family members in this subclass 1a, mentioned here because of its rareness in other Bantu languages (Grégoire 2003:360). On top of the peculiar inclusion of family addresses in this subclass, the prefix has Rising tone (R). The origin of R in the family addresses is less obscure than it seems. In some other languages this prefix a- also refers to members of the family (Grégoire 2003:360).25 The diachronic properties of this prefix explain the R if we assume that a depressor consonant used to be part of this a- prefix. Grégoire suggests that Class 12 prefix ka- is possibly at the origin of an odd subclass 1. In Nyali (D33), Lengola

24 See section 3.4.6.3 on functional adjectives for examples of associative constructions where such mergers occur. 25 In these particular nouns the R that results from the depressor effect of the lost DepC ‘g’ can be observed. This peculiarity of Budu could be labellled a ‘floating depressor consonant,’ cf. hna ‘to plant’ from Proto Bantu kón- ‘to plant,’ is also realised with a R instead of H because of the lost ‘k’ as was mentioned before.

71 (D12) and Mituku (D13) the noun class with prefix ka- is used for animals, plants and some members of the family. She recommends further investigation. I assume that an older phase of Budu had class 12 prefix gá-. Its vowel is attached to zero prefixed class 1 nouns for denoting family members. The lost consonant g- explains the depressor effect on the –á prefix resulting in an idiosyncratic R. In the present state of Budu, the class with zero prefix, class 10, sounds very similar to subclass 1a. 26A semantic difference is that class 10 entails a group of nouns depicting mass nouns with plural formation by class 11 U-prefixes and no class 2 ba- prefixes. This reason leads Asangama (1983) and Koehler (1995) to postulate a class 10 for all nouns that differ from class 1. Budu nominal classification exhibits thirteen different classes. Budu anaphoric distinctions– NANI are used for emphasis and exhibit a similar differentiation:

Table 3.13 Determiners with extensions as used to emphasize given information: (In various dialects the vowel of the class 3 and 11 prefix is repeated before-NANI ‘there’).

Noun Class 1: m-ombí ng–a(-nan); m-tt ng–a(-nan) CL-person DET-REL (GIVEN.INF) CL-creature DET-REL (GIVEN.INF) That (particular) person …; those (particular) creatures… + modifying clause

Noun Class 2: ba-tt ng-ba(-nan); b-ombí ng-ba(-nan) CL-creature DET-REL(GIVEN.INF) CL-person DET-REL (GIVEN.INF) Those (particular) creatures...; those (particular) persons… +modifying clause

Noun Class 3: m-tmá ng-wa(/)(-nan); mu-genu ng-wa(/)(-nan) CL-heart DET-REL(GIVEN.INF) ; CL- story DET-REL (GIVEN.INF) That (particular) heart …; that (particular) story … + modifying clause

Noun Class 4: mi-genu ng-y(-nn); M-tmá ng-y(-nn) CL-story DET-REL (GIVEN.INF) CL- heart DET-REL (GIVEN.INF) Those (particular) stories …, those (particular) hearts + modifying clause

Noun Class 5: i-dyo ng-y(-nn); i-go, ng-y(-nn) CL- DET-REL(GIVEN.INF) CL-year DET-REL (GIVEN.INF) That (particular) meal/type of food; that (particular)year in +modifying Clause

Noun Class 6: ma-kwaa ng-ka(/)(-nan); ma-dyo ng-ka(/)(-nan) CL-period DET-REL(GIVEN.INF) CL-food DET-REL (GIVEN.INF) That (particular)time, those (particular)meals/food types+modifying Clause

Noun Class 7: -pk ng-y(-nn); -kym ng-y(-nn) CL-cloth DET-REL(GIVEN.INF) CL-thingDET-REL (GIVEN.INF) That (particular) cloth; that (particular) thing +modifying Clause

Noun Class 8: l-kym ng-l(-nn); l-pk ng-l(-nn) CL-thing DET-REL(GIVEN.INF) CL-cloth DET-REL (GIVEN.INF) Those (particular) things ; those (particular) cloths +modifying Clause

Noun Class 9 : dyakaka ng-y(-nn) To.Eat-REP DET-REL(GIVEN.INF) That (particular) meal /way of eating +modifying Clause

26 Only the class-marking semi-vowel Y in dependent suffixes causes a different pronounciation, because the semivowel blocks the vowel merger that characterises class 1 noun phrases as in the examples under Table 3.20.

72 Noun Class 10a: ta ng-ya(-nan); slng ng-ya(-nan) CL- DET-REL(GIVEN.INF) CL-peanut DET-REL(GIVEN.INF) That (particular) work; those (particular)peanuts +modifying Clause

Noun Class 11 -slng ng-wa(/)(-nan) CL-peanut DET-REL (GIVEN.INF) That (particular) peanut +modifying Clause

Noun Class 14: b-isí ng-ba(/)(-nan); b-wólo ng-ba(-nan) CL-day DET-REL (GIVEN.INF) CL-seat DET-REL (GIVEN.INF) That (particular) day; the (particular) seat +modifying Clause

3.4.1 Noun-Class Pairs used for Singular and Plural

Another Bantu feature of Budu that fulfils Guthrie’s principal criteria for Bantu languages is “the regular association of pairs of classes to indicate the singular and plural of the genders. In addition to these two- class genders, there are also one-class genders, where the prefix is sometimes similar to one of the plural prefixes.” (Guthrie 1948:10). Noun Classes are not directly related to semantic properties. The indicated semantic properties in table 3.14 denote tendencies. In Budu the following associations of pairs are used to differentiate nouns for number:

Table 3.14 Budu Noun Genders; paired singular and plural differentiation in classes (vowels in capital denote both [+ATR} and [–ATR] quality).

Class SINGULAR prefix PLURAL prefix 1/2 mostly animated beings MU- BA- 1a/2 animated beings and plants A- BA- 1b/2 Zero prefix (petrified Mangbetu NA-/NE prefix BA- to loanword of M.) 3 / 4 MU- MI- 5/6 natural sets e.g. ‘teeth’ and ‘eyes’ I- MA- 7/8 I- LI- 9 monosyllabic infinitives/other infinitives NI-/zero prefix 10 mass nouns (plurale tantum) Zero prefix 10a/2 loanwords Zero prefix/A-/I- BA- 11/10 (one of a) huge amount U- (rarely used) Zero prefix 14 abstract nouns BU- n.a. 14/6 botanical names (trees) BU- MA- (11/6 limited set of nouns such as ‘ear’) U- MA-

Class 9 Bantu prefix NI- (for infinitives) is only used for monosyllabic infinitives. Other infinitives have zero prefix. None of the other prefixes listed in table 3.14 is conditioned by its phonological environment. For more details concerning monosyllabic infinitives see section 3.5.1. At this point a third peculiarity of Budu Noun Classification can be discussed. In several Bantu languages the singular of ma- nouns is formed with the LI- prefix.27 In contrast, Budu LI- is the plural of class 7 nouns with singular prefix of the vowel I- . In Bantu plurals of class 7 tend to start with a B- class 8 prefix (Katamba 2003:104). Therefore, the consonant of the LI- prefix requires an explanation. The LI- prefix for plurals of class 7 seems to exist only in some languages in Bantu S, like for instance Sotho (Katamba 2003:109). Sotho has DI- as prefix for class 8 and I- for class 7).28 Its alveolar

27 Capitals L are printed here in order to avoid ambiguity between I and l (capital ‘i’ and lower case ‘l’). 28 Pairing is an area of innovation through language contact, as it seems. Similar to the pairing 11/6, the plural formation of class 7 nouns with the LI- prefix that is used in Lingala plural formation, seems to be an innovation under influence of this Language of Wider Communication. Class 11 (SG) nouns, which in Nyali are prefixed

73 consonant d is comparable to flapped laterals in Budu (see footnote 14) . It seems nevertheless highly unlikely that Budu would be influenced by a Bantu language situated in the furthest South of Africa. However, Budu has at least one class 8 word29 suggesting a development of prefix LI- from bi-. Dité ‘war’ corresponds to the Proto-Bantu word ‘bitá,30 which, according to Vansina exhibits a frozen class 8 prefix bi- (1990:281). The correspondence seems to suggest that Budu developed a class 8 with flapped lateral with ingressive lung air instead of the b- consonant. A simpler explanation seems to be that the plural of class 7 nouns is influenced by the plural formation of a different class in a language of wider communication. Lingala is a Bantu language with plural LI- prefixes for class ten nouns. Also Bantu B 10-30 languages have class 10 plurals with LI- or DI-. In analogy to Lingala the Budu prefix is spelled with an ‘l’ instead of a ‘d’ to explain its increased pronunciation as a liquid.31 Also the use of this exceptional class 10 plural prefix to pair with class 7 singulars can be explained as influence of the language of wider communication Bangala. This regional variety of Lingala is spoken to the North of the area in grey on the following map, (adapted from N’Sial (1993). The grey area denotes the region where the Budu live:

with (LU-), and in D 21 Bali (KU-) in Budu exhibit the vowel prefix U-, while such nouns in all these languages have Plurals class 6 MA- prefixes as in Lingala (Grégoire 2003:360). The small number of both 11/6 nouns and 7/10 nouns suggests that these pairings might be an innovative phenomenon in Nyali languages, possibly under influence of Lingala. 29 This is di-té ‘combats; war;’ like in the phrase di-té l-ta l-ja l-kw ‘a huge war arrived.’ 30 Guthrie (1970:52) relates this word to his CS 151 on the list, where –tá represents CS 1630. 31 There are wo class 8 nouns that are glossed by Budu speakers as a singular dité ‘war’ and dma ‘bride price.’ They form exceptions since they are pronounced with an invariable flapped lateral, that is spelled ‘d.’

74 Although I used the label ‘class 8’ to refer to the plural of class 7, it seems to be more consistent to consider LI- prefixes as class 10 markers and zero prefixed nouns with class 1 concord as class 1. However, since the group of zero prefixed nouns represents mass nouns it has been labelled as class 10 by both Asangama (1983) and Koehler (1995).32 If I would choose for a different interpretation, an additional advantage would be that the interpretation of LI- as class 10 prefixes would require a grouping of Asangama’s class 10 as class 1 b, an interpretation that emphasizes the semantic analogy (plant (products)) between the two groups. Nevertheless this dissertation about language use is not the place to start a different noun classification as the one established by Asangama (1983).33

32 This nominal class, that is used for mass nouns, is characterised by its anaphoric extensions class 1a extensions in combination with agreement markers start with the same vowel as class 5 and 7. 33 A complicating factor that was not even mentioned is that Bantu D has class 5 singular nouns with a vowel- initial noun root. These are pronounced with a flapped consonant to facilitate its pronunciation LI- or DI- (Grégoire 2003:261). Budu has only one word lisíni ‘river; water source’ which flapped lateral drops in anisíni ‘at the river.’ This noun indeed has no L- consonants in its bound prefixes, it agrees as a class 1a noun. However, since Budu has no other noun roots that suggest the pronunciation-helps in the form of the flapped /L/, and because of the semantic features of the word (most rivers and waters are considered as animated beings), lisíni ‘source; river’ is interpreted as a consonant initial class 1a root with zero prefix.

75 A last remark about table 3.13 concerns the glosses in this book. Although Bantu prefixes imply the number of a noun, all glosses in this book denote noun-class prefixes followed by their noun root. This means that the abbreviation ‘CL-name’ indicates prefix-root, without indicating implied number distinctions. The number of the nominal prefix is nevertheless clear from the translation, while glosses represent roots in its dictionary entry form (in singular).

3.4.2 Agreement in the Noun Phrase

A third feature, where Budu meets Guthrie’s principal criteria for Bantu languages, is that its ‘words with independent prefixes,’ agree in class distinction ‘with any other word which is subordinate to them by means of dependent prefixes’ (Guthrie 1948:10). This was illustrated for dependent prefixes in table 3.12 (second column, second word). Bound relative pronouns differ for each Noun Class, just like bound anaphoric extensions that are used to specify the preceding noun. In contrast, independent relative pronouns are agreeing with the noun to which they refer in a previous clause. They have the same class. The free personal pronoun third person therefore may have either the form y (he, she, it) for class 1/4/5 and 10; for class 2/14 (them, it) b for class 3/11 w (it) for class 6 k (them, it) and l (them) for class 8. Free pronouns are used to remove ambiguity or emphasize references to participants. Nouns agree with all parts of the noun phrase which they govern. A separate set of bound pronouns is used in agreement with the noun.

3.4.3 Verbal Subject Prefixes

In addition to agreement within the NP, the VP has its own agreement. Inflected verbs are marked for the Noun Class of their Agent with a so called ‘Subject Prefix.’ On top of this normal inflection, non- agents can be optionally marked on the verb. So called ‘Object Prefixes’ are attached to the verb root. They occur immediately following the Subject Prefix. The class Object Prefixes mark is in agreement with the class of non-Agents. Verbal prefixes occur prior to the verb root, hence this name. They are called object prefixes since a syntactic terminology is conventional in Bantu linguistics (see for example Hyman and Duranti 1982). In this section 3.4.3 the verbal Subject Prefix is presented. In section 3.4.4 the Object Prefix is discussed, with song lines from a church song providing some illustrations. Consider the next offering song. Church attendees are encouraged to give their contribution in the form of money, chickens or rice etc. This exhortation is expressed by an optative verb form li-njo ‘let any class 8 things’ render praise to God. The ‘things’ are specified in the rest of the phrase as libomu ‘all’ lnds ‘our’ lkym ‘things’ in line 1:

L-kym l-nd-s k li-bomu l-i-njo Mungu -bhbha. CL8-thing CL8-place-ours too CL8-all CL8-OPT-give God (SW) CL-praise 1. Let all our things also give God praise.

In line 1 agreement with the class 8 noun is clear from the (underlined) class 8 markers. Similar to the agent lkym ‘things,’ the inflected verb and all noun modifications that follow the agent noun start with the consonant l-, which marks class 8. In contrast with line 1 line 39 has w- in agreement with nominal prefix u- (class 11):

76 U-dhuba ng-wa w- Angakm w-a n-s a-pana -janga CL11-story DET-REL11 CL11-of NAME CL11-be with-us to-show CL-value 39. The story of Angakomu illustrates a certain value to us.

The agent noun udhuba ‘story’ agrees with the inflected verb wa ‘is’ that governs it. In line 39 w- is the Subject Prefix. Agreement within the entire Subject phrase is indicated with this class 11 vowel, as the underlined elements show. The specified determiner ngwa ‘that of a class 11 thing’ introduces the noun modification. Class marking w in associative marker ‘of’ agrees with the noun udhuba ‘story.’ Line 39 illustrates class 11 agreement with semi-consonant ‘w.’ Compare this to line 17: y-áka y-tà-akisbá ng-y, y-k-s gba-n!! CL5-thing CL5-ADIM-terrific DET-REL5 CL5-IPF.come-first where 17. That terrific thing, where did it came from in the first place? »

In line 17 the agent of the verb phrase is class 5 noun yáka ‘thing; word.’ It is Subject to the verb nka ‘arrive,’ and modified by the adjective akisbá ‘terrific’. Line 17 illustrates class 5 agreement with semi- consonant ‘y’. Prefix y- is followed by adjectival marker tà. The determiner ngy ‘that’ refers to the same class 5 noun (‘that class five thing’). Noun phrases agree with their head noun. If a head noun is governed by the main verb, being its agent, it agrees with the verbal subject prefix.

3.4.4 Verbal Object Prefixes

In contrast to Agents, which are obligatorily marked in the verb complex, non-Agents optionally agree with the main verb. This agreement consists of a class-prefix, which is marking agreement between the non-agentive noun and the inflected verb. The prefix is called Object Prefix (OP) since it precedes the verb root. Its position is immediately before the verb root, following the Subject Prefix. Since OP’s have no underlying tone, their occurrence usually distorts the verbal tones. OP’s affect the tonal melody of the Verb Complex because they represent an ‘empty slot.’ OP’s can be noticed because of a tonal shift of the verb melody that arises to fill such slots. The non-agent nouns of a sentence are not obligatorily marked on the inflected verb with OP’s. This is clear from the following lines from the offering song that has been presented in the begin of section 3.4.3:

B-aná b-nd-s tá na-b; ti-njo Mungu -bhbha. CL2-child CL2-place-ours just with-CL2 OPT.1PL.give God (SW) CL-praise 2. With our children, just together with them, let’s give God praise.

M-tmá y-nd-s Mungu a-ti-njo, ti-njo Mungu -bhbha. CL4-heart CL4-place-ours God (SW) PF.3SG-OP-give OPT.1PL-give God (SW) CL-praise 3. With our hearts that God gave us, let us give God praise.

Song lines 2 and 3 exhort church visitors ‘to give God praise’ by means of b-aná b-nd-s ‘our children’ and with: m-tmá y-nd-s ‘our hearts.’ Class 2 nominal prefix marks the agreement between baná ‘children’ and the possessive bnds ‘our’ (PL). Further reference to baná ‘children’ occurs in the additive nab - ‘with them-class-2-beings.’34 In line 2 the verbal subject prefix ti- refers to

34The relative pronoun b ‘them’ merges with n-. The vowel a- indicates influence of the Swahili nabo ‘with them.’ See also table 3.16 and the comments in 3.4.5

77 the agent ‘we.’ No Object Prefix occurs in this line, so no agreement with baná ‘children’ is marked in the verb phrase. In line 3, class 4 noun mtmá ‘hearts’ agrees with y- prefix since this class has prefixes that follow the vowel of the nominal prefix MI-;’ while the verbal prefix ti- is referring to the agent ‘we.’ These two lines illustrate that OP’s are not obligatory for non-agents. Table 3.15 provides an overview of all possible Object Prefixes (in capitals. U and I can have either [-ATR] or [+ATR] vowel quality, depending on the verb root):

Table 3.15 Verbal Prefixes according to Noun Class

Class Number Subject Prefix Object Prefix

CL 1 1SG NA- -NA- 2SG WA- -NA- 3SG Á- -MU- CL 2 1PL TÁ- -TI- 2PL NÁ- -NI- 3PL BÁ- -BU- CL 3 (always SG) YÁ- -U- CL 4, 5 and 7 (always SG) YÁ- -I- CL 6 (always PL) KÁ- -KU- CL 8 (always PL) LÁ- -LI- CL 10 PL tantum YÁ- -MU-- CL 11 (always SG) WÁ- -U- CL 14 (always SG) BÁ- -BU-

For references to a person who is not the Agent of the verb, class 1 prefix -MU- is used and class 2 prefix –BU- for its plural. These third person references are the most frequently used OP’s. The hearer can be addressed with –NA- (singular) or –NI- (plural), while speakers refer to themselves with –NA- (singular) or –TI- (plural). The toneless nature of OP’s implies that there is no distinction between references to ‘me’ and ‘you’ singular, nor between class 10 references and references to third person animated beings. In contrast, subject prefixes have L for 1 and 2 singular and H for the other persons; tone representing the only distinction between agent references first person singular nà- and second person plural ná-. The use of OP’s is illustrated in the next nine lines. In the glossing no number indication of the Object Referent is included, the number refers to the Subject Prefix or in other words to the inflection:

78

W-mm-fa ba-kb. PF2SG-OP-catch-APL CL-chicken 1. You caught some chicken for him.

To-bbu-sig-io 2. We told them. PF.1PL-OP-tell.APL

Wa-pomb slng, w-mm-dha. 3. After you roast the peanuts, you pound them. NPF.2SG-roast peanuts, CONS.2SG-OP-pound

To-mmu-bokuo gue a-smm 4. We asked my husband himself. PF.1PL-OP-ask man CL-mine

-bb-ngak-a b-ang y-aká i-bomu. 5. She reported the whole thing to the others. PF.3SG-OP-report.APPL CL-others CL-thing CL-whole

Wa-nna-nja m m-tnd w-ng mnganá. 6. You have to give me personally one of its legs IPF.2SG-OP-give me CL-leg CL-LOGOPH CL-one

A-tti-hati-éni-p tá nngbama mnganá 7. Let him get us one young man please. OPT.3SG-OP-search-OPT-MOD just boy CL-one

M-kaka ng-y tà bhl-bhl wá-ii-kio CL -stick DET–REL ADI small-RED IPF.2SG.-CL-cut 8. These very small sticks, you have to cut them

i-bomu b. Wo-ii-kwa-íso ido. 9. all like this: then you chop those up entirely. CL-all like: CONS-2SG-OP-cut-CAUS well

In some clauses only the OP refers to a non-Agent constituent, for example in the lines 1 and 2 where the OP is attached to an applicative verb form. Line 3 represents a sequence of instructions concerning the same object. This object is not repeated, except for the reference with the OP. However, OP’s usually express a certain emphasis. In the lines 4-6 OP’s occur next to a full noun referring to the same non-Agent. Budu with its SVO constituent order tends to have sentence- intitial Agents. However, in line 8 a non-Agent is focalised and occurs sentence-initially, in left- dislocation. Agreement between a non-agent and the inflected verb is marked by class markers, as the underlined parts in lines 8 and 9 show. In line 9 the OP is the only reference to the object. Infinitives never occur with OP’s. In the lines 11 and 12 the use of free personal pronouns is obligatory:

N-a mbm a-kn w -kym. 10. I have difficulty hearing a word you (say). IPF.1SG-be hard INF.hear you CL-thing

m n-a n y-aká, 11. I first have some word, Me IPF.1SG-be with CL5-word ng-y n-a-s n()-n ak-bokuo 12. the one I would like to be asking you. DET-REL5 IPF.1SG-first ADD-you PROG-ask

A subordinated phrase with an infinitive excludes the use of OP’s. No OP’s are used in reference to non-agents with infinitives, as the lines 10 and 12 illustrate.

79

3.4.5 Personal Pronouns

3.5.4.1 Pronouns

In the previous sections the use of free personal pronouns was mentioned several times. An overview of all personal pronouns is provided in table 3.16. The first column lists the free personal pronouns; the other columns list the bound pronouns. Most are prefixed by class prefixes, as indicated with hyphens:

Table 3.16 Personal Pronouns

m ‘me’ nm ‘with me’ a-sm ‘mine’ a-ndam ‘at my place’

w ‘you (SG)’ nw ‘with you’ a-s ‘yours (SG)’ a-nd ‘at your (SG) place’

y ‘she ; nay ‘with you; á-ng his/ a-ndng ‘at his/ he ; naw ‘with it/ hers/ her place’ it’ nak its’ nal those’

s ‘we’ ns ‘with us’ b-s ‘ours’ a-nds ‘at our place’

n ‘you (PL)’ nn ‘with you b-n ‘yours (PL) a-ndn ‘at your (PL) place’ (PL)’

b ‘they’ nab ‘with them/it’ b-b theirs a-ndab ‘at their place’

In the second column additive n precedes the personal pronoun.35 Some forms are irregular. Probably exposure to Swahili with the corresponding nayo; nabo ‘with her; him; it’ and ‘with them’ determine the irregular vowel ‘a’ in the third row. In the third row second column forms with the meaning ‘with it’ have class 3/11 marker ‘w,’ class 6 marker ‘k,’ and plural class 8 marker ‘l’‘ for the bound pronoun nal ‘with those.’ In the last line the form nab ‘with them’ has class 2 marker ‘b’.’ This form can also be used to refer to a class 14 noun ‘with it’ (‘with love’ for example). The third column has independent possessive pronouns. Possessive pronouns are not always free. They can also be used in agreement with the nouns they specify. Consider the following example of bound possessive pronouns (cf. the song lines in the examples under section 3.4.3 and 3.4.4):

Mu-genú w-s w-o-sio! CL3-story CL3-our CL3.PF.3SG-end 96. Our story has ended!

35 Regressive height assimilation of the vowel results in the vowel that results from the merger.

80 3.4.5.2 Polite Vocatives

Vocatives are used instead of second person pronouns if the addressee is older. The use of vocatives is associated with age hierarchies in Budu societies.36 In addressing older persons, special kinship terms are used to express politeness. Politeness is also expressed with the same kinship terms to address strangers. The expressions ‘my-father’ and ‘my-mother’ (single words) are used in addressing older persons; the expression ‘child of my father’ is used to express politeness to age mates.37 Consider the following examples taken from different texts:

Î-naá nï-na-gyaba ndî nö m-epo? CL-mother OPT.1SG-OP2SG-wash INT ADD CL-water a. Madam, would you like me to rinse you with water ?

Hiii á-bhaa, ï-ká baka-sï íyaní Oh, CL-father, OPT.come please-first here b. Oh Sir, please could you come here first ?

Mw-aná á-bhaa w-anïsa gbanî? CL-child CL-father IPF.2SG-go where? c. Hello, excuse me, where are you going?

Iii á-bhaa na tá nïna Yes, CL-father IPF.1SG-be just INF.see d. Yes father, I can see it well.

The use of polite vocatives seems to be associated with wisdom and with practical or social experience. It can, therefore, also be used to address agemates or younger persons with special skills.This is illustrated with the following line from a parable, where an authoritarian chief uses a polite vocative to address a skilled hunter (in an earlier phrase the hunter asked the chief for a favour):

Ga Ngámá Mükökü aka bö: “Oí, á-bhaa ambô üwë wa-yo-ndî gö li-pindi? Say chief road.block here like: yes CL-father IRR you IPF.2SG-set-INT IRR CL-traps? At which the chief responded: “Well sir, do I understand you right, that you would indeed know to lay traps?”

The lexical choice of the chief illustrates the function of polite vocatives as recognition of some experience. Less experienced members of society express their recognition of the skills of the addressee by using a polite vocative, irrespective of their own status. Even the owner of the forest, whose permission the hunter came to ask, expresses his recognition of the hunter’s skill. In daily speech, the nouns that are used as polite vocatives are also used as ‘sir’ and ‘madam’ in reference to third parties (like in the stage remarks of plays, were the speakers can be indicated with these nouns).

36No specific form for vocatives occurs. To call the addressee, the name or function of the person can be mentioned with lengthening of the final vowel. The term ‘vocatives’ is used here to refer to kinship terms, which can be used as polite vocatives. 37This expression is not to be confused with the expression baná b’înaá ‘children of my mother’, that has a performative function and is therefore used in oaths and guarantees, see the section on distinctions of the sixth dimension.

81 3.4.6 Associative Constructions

Associative constructions are used in noun modification. Prepositional phrases, Numeral phrases and Adjectival phrases are made with associative constructions. All three will be discussed in the following subsections. Budu only has a few compound words that function as one word. All nouns can nevertheless be modified by another noun in a so called ‘associative construction’ of two nouns in close association with each other. The association is marked by the so called ‘associative marker’ – ’of’ between the two. The prefix of the associative marker agrees with the first noun, that also governs the construction. Consider the following examples:

Table 3.17 associative constructions

Associative construction Class of the first Budu noun and translation m-ak gbondo 1. owner of the forest; forest owner CL1.owner of CL10-forest -s mw-aná 1a. the father of the child; the child’s father CL1A-father of CL1-child a-kuku m-ksa 1a. flour from corn; ground corn/ CL1A-dust of CL3-corn ba-tt b- kws 2. microbes that cause sickness (pathogenic creatures) CL2- creatures CL2-of sickness (Class 9 has zero prefix) m-gynd w- di-té 3. the heritage of the war; the war’s consequences CL3-heritage CL3-of CL8-war m-a y- -dh 4. the guts of the antelope; antelope intestines Cl3-guts CL3-of CL11-antilope i-dyo y- mw-aná 5. food for the child; child’s portion CL5-food CL5-of CL1-child i-dyo y- beyoko ndt 5. food to make your body strong; nutritious food CL5-food CL5-of CL9-grow CL10-body ma-t k- i-kú 6. urine of caterpillars CL6-urine CL6.of CL5-caterpillar i-tumo y- i-kú 7. basket for (collecting) caterpillars CL 7-basket CL7.of CL5-caterpillar -ngbaa y- b-mba 7. road in the open; savannah road CL7-road CL7-of CL14-open.place -ngbaa y- m-taa 7. road leading to the latrine; the latrine path CL7-road CL7-of CL3-latrine;feces l-pap l- l-ikpou 8. shells of snails; snail shells CL8-shell CL8-of CL8-snail l-dk l-- ta 8. work tools; (Tools for the work) CL8-tool CL8-of CL10.work nmbmbanaka y- bhala 9. knowledge from books; text book information CL10.knowledge CL10-of letter (SW) kws y- mw-aná 9. childhood disease sickness CL-of CL-child kbhaa kawa 1a coffee field; (field planted with coffee) field CL1-of coffee (from Swahili kahawa) ta y- sk 10. cooking chore; (work of food preparation) Work CL10-of CL9.cook ta y- l-knd 10. manual labour; (work with your hands) work CL10-of CL8-hands

82 -ma w- bhang 11. (a place of) refuge. CL11-place CL11-of CL10.escape u-bei w- bu-b-ombí 11. the life of human kind; well being CL11-life CL11-of CL14-CL2-man

The middle word in the constructions is the associative marker. Some differences in the class marking of the associative marker can be observed from table 3.17. 38 Class 1 nouns and class 9 nouns have an associative marker without class prefix. Other classes have semi-vowels in their prefixes, for example class 11 and 3 associative markers are both prefixed with the semi-vowel w- , related to the vowel U- in their noun-prefix. Class 5, 7 and 13 associative markers have semi-vowel y, related to the vowel– I in the noun-prefix. Finally some classes have associative markers with consonant prefixes. Class 8 has l-, like its nominal prefix, and class 6 which has k- in agreement with the ma-prefix.39 Semantically the second noun restricts the possible references of the first noun, like in ‘coffee field’, ‘childhood disease’, ‘manual labour’ and in: gue kmb ‘a village inhabitant (lit. man of village) ga y mb ‘hat worn on special dance occasions’ ikwéi-kwéi y babh ‘a very old person of the spirits (of the spirit world)’meaning: ‘a witch’ mwaná/mombí babh ‘a spirit person’ ngbaa y Medhje ‘the road to Medje’ mt bchwá ‘a Pygmy’ mwaná bague ‘a human person’ knd y gue ng the right hand (lit. ‘the hand of its men’)

The last line frequently occurs in adverbial phrases to indicate places, as in, for example:

A-nsa -knd y- gue-ng -knd y- moí- ng. PF.3SG-go CL-hand CL-of man-LOGOP CL-hand CL-of woman-LOGOPH 43. He went towards the right, he went towards the left.

The associative construction is used in numerals, in prepositions and in fixed expressions, which describe size and function as adjectives. I will refer to the last as to ‘functional adjectives.’

3.4.6.1 Numerals

Ordinal numerals are made with associative constructions. Some numerals will be referred to in further discussions. They are printed in bold:

38The semantic relations between associated nouns are diverse. In some expressions the first noun refers to the origin or owner of the second noun (urine, guts, shells, ground stuff; knowledge, father, owner, war); in other constructions the second noun refers to a destination (the latrine, Medje); a goal (taking refuge, getting strong); or activity (cooking, working); or beneficient (the child) or other non-agent (food, caterpillars). 39In most other Bantu languages ga- agreement occurs with this ma- prefixed class 6.

83 Table 3.18 Days of the week:40 bisi b mnganá ‘first day’ Monday bisi b kapíni ‘second day’ Tuesday bisi b kaátu ‘third day’ Wednesday bisi b bgna ‘fourth day’ Thursday bisi b bk ‘fifth day’ Friday 41 bisi b ps ‘day of distribution’ Saturday bisi b ynga ‘day of building (from Swahili kujenga ‘to build’) Sunday

The months of the year are numbered with Budu numerals from the 1st (January) to the 12th (December). The first month is an exception. It uses the noun p ‘front,’ which indicates literally: ‘the month in front of all other months.’ Also in table 3.10 some numerals are printed in bold, because they will be mentioned in further discussions:

Table 3.19 Months of the year

Uyi ngwa w p ‘January’ Uyi ngwa w mdanka ‘July’ Uyi ngwa w bepíni ‘February’ Uyi ngwa w bgna ‘August’ Uyi ngwa w beétu ‘March’ Uyi ngwa w sabk ‘September’ Uyi ngwa w bgna ‘April’ Uyi ngwa w tkb ‘October’ Uyi ngwa w bk ‘May’ Uyi ngwa w tkb n mnganá ‘November’ Uyi ngwa w mda ‘June’ Uyi ngwa w tkb n bepíni ‘December’

A difference between the tables 3.18 and 3.19 is that ‘the days of the week,’ have no determiners, unlike the expressions used for ‘the months of the year.’ The determining ng- occurs between the first noun and the associative marker. A relative pronoun attached to ng-, agrees with the preceding class 11 noun, expressing a relation of dependency between determiner and noun. Table 3.18 and 3.19 both have some bold print. Note the similarity between the numerals for ‘second’ and ‘third’ that are also used to refer to the second month (February) and to the third month (March). The same numeral root is used in line 2 of both tables. Yet there is a difference in the forms that are used. This difference is due to the class of the noun. The ‘days’ of the week are indicated with an associative construction in agreement with bisi ‘time,’ a class 14 noun, whereas the ‘months’ of the year have uyi ‘month,’ a class 11 noun. Budu numerals for ‘fourth’ and ‘fifth’ are identical in both cases. The difference between Budu for ‘second’ and ‘third’ follows from the class difference of the governing noun. Whereas bisi ‘time’ requires the petrified ka- prefix for the numerals of ‘two’ and ‘three,’ uyi ‘month’ requires the petrified be- prefix. The numerals for ‘one’ to ‘three’ are formed with morphologically unproductive prefixes. Their use in the names of ‘days of the week’ and in ‘months of the year’ illustrate differences between different forms for ‘second’ and for ‘third.’ In fact such anachronistic prefixes occur also with the numeral for ‘one’ but because of the idiomatic expression ‘the month in front’ with p ‘front,’ differences in the form of the numeral used for ‘first’ mnganá have not been illustrated yet. The three anachronistic numeral prefixes are:

40 N.B. the Swahili reference to the Muslim week with Friday as Holy Day is not observed. For comments concerning the limited influence of the Arab traders on religion and literacy see section 3.3.6.3. 41 During the Belgian occupation employees received their salary on Saturdays, so the Swahili posho ‘to hand out’ or perhaps the French poche ‘pocket’ started to be used in references to Saturday.

84 Table 3.20 Budu petrified numeral prefixes 1. M--/m-nganá 2. Be-/ba-/ka-dye-píni 3. Beé-/ kaá-/ dyeé-tu

These prefixes are only used with the numerals 1 to 3. They are not productive with other numerals (as the comparison between the tables 3.19 and 3.18 showed). It seems that their occurrence with the numerals 1 to 3 is an anachronistic remnant of a numeral system that stopped functioning. The prefixes of the numerals ‘two’ and ‘three’ are identical except for the rising tone (R) on the vowel in the numeral ‘three’ prefix. This is denoted by adding an extra vowel in the examples under 3. Apparently the numeral root ‘three’ has a floating H that, for some reason, is realised as R. A depressor effect of the prefix consonant can be postulated.42 For examples of the use of the numerals ‘one’ to ‘three’ see the following lines, that are no longer restricted to ordinal numbers. They also contain other numerals. The number in the second column indicates the nominal class of the first noun (the line with the class 8 noun for ‘boats’ represents a Budu proverb.)

Tabholo ng-a-k m-nganá 1. ‘The first table (that was mentioned) Tableau (FR) DET-REL1-that of CL-one

Mw-aná i-gó m-nganá 1. A child of the age of one year CL1-child of CL5-year CL-one

s b-ombí ba-píni. 2. ‘us, two persons’ we CL2-persons CL-two

Ba-mbi-deto km l-ngb dye-píni 8. One has not yet climbed two boats (at the time). IPF.3PL-NEG.IRR-climb NEG CL8-boat CL- two

Amatí u-yi ng-wa-w w- be-píni 11. ‘In that second month’ Within of CL-month DET-REL-ANAPH CL-of CL-second

Ma-kwé ka-píni. 6. ‘two packages’ CL6-package CL-two

Li-mbika l- i-dyo dy-étu: 8. ‘food of three sorts’ CL8-sort CL-of CL-food CL-third

Ma-kopí ka-átu 6. ‘three stones’ (the fireplace). CL6-stone CL-three

-pan ng-wa w- be-étu 11. ‘the third principle’ CL-law DET-REL CL-of third

42The floating H can be traced to a lost syllable. In comparison the first syllable of Proto Bantu numeral tátu ‘three’ the Budu numeral ‘three’ has lost a consonant. Kutsch Lojenga calls the Budu H in the numeral ‘three’ a floating tone and assumes that it belongs to its root: ´-tú ‘three.’ The depressor effect of an onset with voiced consonant b, k or dy , as in the petrified prefix, causes a realisation of H as R. The depressor effect unexpectedly occurs in case of the 6th class unvoiced k. The consonant g seems to have lost its voicing in k while its depressor effect continues, like with Budu h where it has replaced a g of a former stage of the language. The floating H is exclusive to the numeral ‘three,’ as comparisons with the numeral for ‘two’ show. H therefore belongs to the root and not to the prefix.

85 These illustrations of table 3.20 provide examples of the agreement between anachronistic numeral prefixes and nominal class. The numeral that is used with 5th class igo year has numeral prefix m-. In contrast, class 1a noun tabholo ‘table’ gets m- for its prefix.43 The illustrations also show how determiners (with ng-) are used with specific references. The class 5 example with igó ‘year’ only indicates a length of time and does not refer to a specific year. Therefore determiner NG- is not used in that example, unlike in the examples in table 3.19. In general determiners are used with ordinal numbers, they are not necessary with other numerals.

3.4.6.2 Prepositions The second application of the associative construction in Budu is the formation of NP’s to indicate location. The use of prepositions is the consqeunce of its reduced noun class system. It characterises Budu as a so called border Bantu language while most other Bantu languages use nominal prefixes to indicate direction or location (Nurse and Phillipson 2003:177). The preposition à is used in prepositional phrases except in -ttt ‘next to.’ Prepositional phrases start with class 1a nouns (with nominal prefix a-).44 Their prefix merges with preposition à. The associative character of the construction is marked by associative marker ‘of’:

Table 3.21 Budu Prepositions

a-katí between a-mbn inside (a house) a-k at; for a-mbisé behind a-k on top of; above a-móndu across; to the other side a-matí in the midst of, underneath, a-mutii at the side of; beside a-n at (place) a-p at the front of; before a-míbo at the end of; at the closure of a-s() under(neath) a-mbámbá beside -ttt next to

Exceptions in table 3.21 are ak ‘at; for’ and an ‘at.’ Both could be interpreted as pre-prefix for location, comparable to Bantu class 15 ku-.45 Most prepositions consist of a noun and are followed by modifier. The first noun is a general indication of the position like ‘the middle’; ‘the backside’; ‘the top’; ‘the side’; ‘the inside.’ It has nominal prefix a-. This indication of position is modified or specified by a second noun, and related to it by ‘of.’ The resulting associative construction can be glossed like, for example, ‘the top of X,’ meaning: ‘above X.’ This prepositional phrase (PP) represents a noun modification, where the combination ‘position- associative marker followed by specification of place,’ is functioning in Budu as a fixed preposition followed by a specified location. In contrast, most Bantu languages use locative or directive class prefixes like class 15 or they use noun affixes indicating direction or place. Although Budu has several nouns on –ni, these never occur without -ni. Furthermore, unlike –ni affixes in Swahili for instance, no Budu word that ends on –ni seems to express direction. 46

43Kutsch Lojenga observes that the vowels in these numeral roots abide by the rules that govern vowel harmony, with [-ATR] prefix vowel -a- triggering a root form with  or $ . Prefixes with -e-or –i- being [+ATR] are triggering a form with i or u (1994:132). 44This class is called class 1a since its nouns exhibit the same agreement as class 1 nouns (with prefix MU-) 45These two prepositions precede the noun-class prefix, with which they amalgamate. Koya Budu, the dialect that is spoken in Wamba, uses class 15 kU- for infinitives. However, this could be due to the influence of Swahili traders who lived in this town at least between 1885 and 1920. 46The Budu mtmá ‘heart,’ for example, can be used with –ni-. However, mtmán ‘deep river bed’ has a different meaning and seems not to contain a directional component.46 If Budu has –NI affixes to indicate

86 Prepositions are frequently used figuratively. In the following examples they denote time as well as space (note that p ‘front’ occurs without nominal prefix): amatí makwaa majanana akisbá ‘during an even longer stretch of time’ tá amatí makwaa ngkak() b ‘in just about those days’ ambisé magó NUMBER ‘after (NUMBER) years’ p p ambise dyakaka ‘before or after eating’ p INFINITIVE before doing…(action indicated by verb)

3.4.6.3 Functional Adjectives

The third application of Associative Constructions in Budu morphology is its use in indications of size. Since these indications function as qualifiers (adjectives) that are used with a noun, I called them functional adjectives. Functional Adjectives consist of an associative construction with a fixed referent, namely a child or a mother. The first noun is used as a referent determining wether the size that is indicated is either small (‘child’ mwaná) or large (‘its mother’ inye). Thereby a modification of the second noun is expresssed. The associative character of the construction is marked by associative marker ‘of.’ Consider for example:47 mw-an () -kaa from: mw-aná -káá small house (fixed expression for ‘latrine’) CL-child of CL-house i-nye () –káá from: I-nye -káá big house CL-mother of CL-house

The only examples (mostly hapaxes) in the researched corpus are almost all from drama, which reinforces my own impression that the use of functional adjectives occurs in verbal interchanges:

direction or location, they are not morphologically productive and their use is restricted to single cases that I have not been able to find. 47Class 1 nouns with associative marker ‘of’ occur without class marking prefix, resulting in a merger of three adjacent vowels that is distinctive for class 1 associative constructions. The three vowels concerned are the final vowel of the first noun, the associative ‘of’ and the prefix to the second noun. Height assimilation of these vowels occurs to the left (regressive), resulting in a lowered vowel [] as []. The zero marking of class 1 head associative markers is evident from comparison with other classes. Nouns of other classes all have a class prefix to the associative construction that blocks merger. Consider for example: uhó w- mkng spinal column, (pronounced: uhó w- mkng) uhó w- ipipi tailbone, (pronounced:uhó w-epipi) dhadha w- akú tongue of a parrot, (pronounced: dhadha wakú) The existence of the class marking prefix of the associative vowel can be deduced from the absence of mergers like [uh ómukongu] and [uhépipi] in previous examples, as analogy with class 1 associative constructions [mwankaa] and [inykáá] would lead one to expect. In contrast to class 1 constructions, where no semi- consonants are present to block a merger, constructions like ‘the tongue of a parrot’ are pronounced [dadawakú] with class marking [w]. The morpho-phonological behaviour of associative constructions governed by class 1 head nouns reveals the zero marking of class 1 dependent prefixes.

87 Table 3.22 Budu functional adjectives mwan’angu ‘a limited amount of energy’ mwan’kym ‘a small something’ (used in requests) iny’kym ‘something of a considerable size’ (used in reaction on a request)48 mwan’ kalagba ‘a small bed’ mwan’ lisíni ‘a small stream’. mwan’ mugenú ‘a small story’ (used at the introduction of animal stories and riddles) mwan’ kyp ‘a bit of palm wine’ mwan’ t ’a nap’ (literally: a child of sleep) mwan’ yaka/nekpabi ‘a small story (literally : a small word, a small testimony’ (intro for a short life story)

The litteral reference of the first noun ‘child,’ is not always lost. In the next example the hoe probably belongs to a child while it is small sized at the same time: mwan’ gta ‘a children’s hoe (for practise)’

Functional adjectives are not restricted to expressions indicating size. They can also be used as indication of an abstract property. Abstract properties tend to be expressed by class 14 nouns. A limited set of class 14 roots is used with nominal prefixes as modifier noun of a first noun, for example:

88.Yatá y bu-ngbó ‘feather of redness’

The modifying noun in this associative contruction of line 88 refers to an abstract quality of ‘redness.’ (For another example see the associative construction in line 19 in section 7.2.6.9). Modifier-nouns are often used refering to a position or to the chronology of things. Consider the use of p ‘front’ in the following two phrases: mw-aná y ak p or: Avio ng-ya p CL-child him ANAPH of front Avion (FR) DET-REL of front The firstborn child That first aeroplane (of two in a row)

In daily conversations, specific questions are frequently answered with isolated utterances that focalise a specific participant as they are for example shouted from a distance. Hence the use of emphatic pronouns y ‘him’ as in reference to the ‘firstborn’ or of noun modification with a determiner ng-, as it is used in the second phrase in reference to a particular aeroplane. The researched corpus has only a few of these functional adjectives, since it contains texts and reported dialogues with a minimum of isolated utterances. This does not imply that functional adjectives are not important in Budu language use.

3.4.6.4 Syntactic Adjectives

A limited set of Class 14 noun-roots can be used to form attributive adjectives. Unlike the functional adjectives in section 3.4.5.3, syntactic adjectives are marked by an adjectival marker tà- that is attached to the nominal class prefix:

48This reaction is used asserting that ‘something of considerable size’ has already been provided.

88 Table 3.23. BUDU ADJECTIVAL ROOTS

quality: size: -bb bad -buto heavy -bka/-bm mean; hard, acute, fierce. -bham large, broad

-bm strong. syn: -bka -bhl small, few -dó good. (–kwanán approved) -bhlkk very little -gba fragile. var: -gba-gba -jl pretty -gbititi/gbi short brief syn: -manjanja49 -kóki dirty -hilili round. VAR: -hididi -k old50 -ja big, many (PL.) -kpngb fresh; new -ta long -manjanja pretty syn: -jl

food quality: -bsn raw -ndng sweet. syn: -tp -bhla foreign -nja hot -dh cold -pundoko fat -kóí bitter -pw rotten, spoiled -kpálá-kpála/ soft. -tp/- sweet, attractive dhl-dhl ndng -w/-y ripe (about fruit)

colours: -ngbó red. var: -ngboo -nji black -tú white, clean, holy

The roots of table 3.23 can be used in combination with class 14 nominal prefixes. In that case the root functions as a noun (see line 88 of section 3.4.6.3). These class 14 roots can also be used to form attributive adjectives. For attributive adjectives, class 14 roots need to be combined with a class prefix in agreement with the noun they modify. Furthermore they need to be preceded by an adjectival marker tà- and by an associative marker in agreement with the modified noun. 51 Note also the difference between the adjectival marker and the high toned particle tá ‘just, only, merely.’ Adjectival markers have no inherent tone. Examples are:

1.b-t b-tà-b-ja CL- tree CL-AM-ADI- CL- big 1. a BIG tree

2.b-aná, ng-ba b-tà bhl-bhl CL-child DET-REL CL-AM-ADI small-REDUP 2. The SMALlest children…..

49Collocation with this adjectival root are restricted to references to plants. 50This adjectival root can only be used with human beings. 51Attributive adjectives may, when following PP associative constructions, be used without adjectival markers ta- as in the following phrases: amatí w-átí bhl ‘within no time’/ as soon as possible ambise makwaa bhl ‘after a short while’

89 3.a-dd ng-ya-()-tà manjanja. CL-palm.tree DET-REL-AM-ADI pretty 3. the BEST palm tree

4.m-epo k--tà-ma-dó CL- water CL-AM- ADI- CL- good 4. CLEAN water

The use of determiners is not obligatory in adjectival phrases. The examples 2 and 3 have specific references because the determiner ng- has been added to the adjectival phrase. Without prior reference to same noun, this results in a superlative meaning. Example 2 occurs in a theoretical exposition on primary health care. The reference includes ‘any children’, be it ‘the smallest.’ The third example represents part of a general saying: ‘even the best palm tree gets rain on its crown.’ Like in example 2 the adjective does not refer to something that has been mentioned before. It refers to ‘the best’ of all possible palm trees. The associative marker that precedes adjectival marker tà- is often swallowed in the pronunciation, expecially in case of class 1 that has no consonant (see footnote 47). For example see example 3. In short, class 14 roots can be used either as abstract nouns in functional adjectives or in attributive adjectives, distinghuished by adjectival marker tà-. Without dependent prefixes class 14 roots are used as adjectival predicate, consider for exampe:

N-a mbm a-kn w -kym. 10. I have DIFFICULTy hearing what you (say). IPF.1SG-be HARD INF.hear you CL-thing

Adjectival predicates require no prefix. In examples 10 the bare root of table 3.23 is used. This is possible with existential verbs only. Other verbs require a class prefix to mark the agreement with the modified noun. Absence of adjectival markers occurs with a limited set of roots, that occur rather frequently, consider dó ‘good’ in:

Wo-ii-kwa-íso idó. 9. Then you chop those up ENTIRELY. CONS-2SG-OP-cut-CAUS well

In line 9 the root dó ‘good’ modifies the verb and it is consequently translated with ‘entirely.’ Three applications of adjectival roots in Budu are the abstract class 14 noun, the attributive adjective and the adjectival predicate.

3.4.6.5 Person Anaphora and Quantifiers

Noun-class prefixes facilitate specific references to animate beings. Like in other Bantu languages, the possibility of specific references is exploited for descriptions. Class prefixes can be attached to particular roots that quantify or qualify a person. With animate beings the result is an independent person anaphora. The top left column of table 3.24 has qualifying anaphora. These are not necessarily formed with adjectival class 14 roots (there are only three asterisks):

90 Table 3.24. Independent Person Anaphora (asterisks mark anaphora with adjectival roots) ba-bhl* ‘the few (ones)’ ba-nd-am ‘those at my place’ ba-bomu ‘every one’/ all of them ba-nd-s ‘those at your (SG) place’ ba-dhidhidhi* ‘(the) various (ones)’ ba-nd-ng ‘those at her/his/its place’ ba-k* ‘the old (ones)’ ba-nd-s ‘those at our place’ ba-ndamb ‘the young (ones)’ ba-nd-n ‘those at your (pl) place’ ba-nd-abo ‘the ones at their place’ bíga ‘the particular ones’ b/ mnganá ‘a certain one/participant’

b/m-ang ‘(the) other (one)s)’ mánye/ba-mánye ‘(the) brother(s); the (neighbour ones) b-m ‘(the) others’ w/mw/y/b-ng; d/miy/- ng ‘others’

The anaphora in table 3.24 lower half left column have relative meaning. These anaphora refer to a participant in a certain context. While -m ‘other’ is used to refer to participant that are no topic of the ongoing conversation, -ng ‘other’ is used to refer to participants that have been mentioned before. The class marker occurs in agreement with the noun that has been used for this reference. The reference -ang ‘other; friend’ is not dependent on the text but on the situational context. It refers to another person than the speaker, like mánye ‘nearest person, brother or neighbour,’ which refers to another person than the addressee as well. The two rows in the middle are used for specific reference bíga in contrast to the number mnganá ‘one,’ that is for unspecified persons that is mostly used for participants that are introduced in a text:

T-ak-m-ka mu-genú w(-) á-bhaa m-nganá, IPF.1PL-PROG-OP-listen CL-story CL(-of) CL-father CL-one We are listening to a story about A CERTAIN certain man,

The right column of table 3.24 has anaphora that are formed with the possessive locatives that were presented in table 3.16. In Budu these person anaphora are used for relatives and in-laws.

3.5 Verb Phrase Morphology 3.5.1 Verb Derivation

In the discussion on the noun phrase morphology, examples had words with either [+ ATR] or [- ATR] quality. This vowel quality remained the same throughout entire phonological words because of the vowel harmony system in Budu as was explained. This ‘Vowel harmony’ was introduced in relation to nouns and infinitives (see table 3.10). No remarks were made thus far about vowel harmony in the derived verb. The following section presents additional remarks about vowel harmony in verbal derivations. Budu verbal derivations characterise it as a Bantu language. Bantu languages may have up to eleven verbal derivations (cf. Schadeberg (2003:72). Budu only has the five most common verbal extensions, i.e.:

91 Table 3.25 Five Budu verbal derivations the applicative proto Bantu –il- Budu -ì- [+ATR] or [– ATR] –- the reciprocal proto Bantu –an- Budu –án- [+ATR] or [– ATR] –ón- the repetitive proto Bantu –ang-/-ak- Budu –ák- [+ATR] or [– ATR] –ók- the passive proto Bantu –u-/ibu Budu –nì- [+ATR] or [– ATR] –n- the causative proto Bantu –i-/-ici- Budu –ìs- [+ATR]

Verbal extensions are followed by the toneless final vowel of the verb, which has either –a or –o, depending on its ATR quality. Examples of the five different verbal extensions are discussed in the sections under the sub-tables 3.25A to E.

3.5.1.1 The Applicative Extension on –IA / -IO

An action can be described as action that is being executed on behalf of somebody else by the applicative. Applicatives are marked by a high front vowel I that is added between root and final vowel (A or O). This ‘applicative’ vowel is indicated in the section head with a capital. If the verb root has [–ATR] it has final vowel A preceded by . If it has [+ATR] it has O for a final vowel and the applicative is marked by an i. Examples of its realisation are: Table 3.25 A : applicative verb derivation sig-o ‘to speak’ -> sig-i-o ‘to say to’ tn-a ‘to cut thin material’ -> tn--a ‘to rip’ janán-a ‘to rejoice’ -> janán--a ‘to welcome’ n-t-a ‘to give birth’ -> n-t--a ‘to give birth for somebody’

The last example of table 3.25 concerns a verb root that is combined with prefix ní-. This class 9 prefix was briefly mentioned in the comments on table 3.14. The use of class 9 prefixes is conditioned by ‘vowel initial’ roots (VC), like in the underlinded part of (last example’s verb) nta ‘to give birth.’ The vowel of the prefix disappeared in its merger with the vowel initial root.52

3.5.1.2 The Reciprocal Extension on -ON / -AN

Another derivation of the verb is used for actions that are executed on behalf of speakers themselves and/or their addressee(s). This derivation is made by adding morpheme -AN- / -ON between root and final vowel. Choice of either –AN- or –ON- depends on the ATR value of the root, as the examples show:

52For evidence of the vowel of this verb root see the examples under the passive derivation.

92 Table 3.25 B: reciprocal verb derivation bokú-o ‘to ask’ -> bokú-on-o ‘to ask oneself; to wonder’ bhbh-a ‘to praise’ -> bhbh-an-a ‘to congratulate oneself’ ní-k-o ‘to paint’ -> ni-k-on-o ‘to smear, to anoint oneself’

The last example displays use of the prefix ní- again. This time it is conditioned by a consonantal verb root. The verb has no root-initial Vowel, it consists merely of a Consonant –k-. It is possible to add more than one derivation to the verb root. If, on top of the reciprocal extension, another verbal derivation is added to the derived root, for example the repetitive –k-, this extension always follows reciprocal extensions. The final vowel is repeated in such cases (see the underlined vowel): ndndw-a ‘to sound’ -> ndndw-an-a-k-a ‘to keep sounding in itself’

3.5.1.3 The Repetitive/ Intensive Extension on –K-

The verbal extension on –k- indicates that an action is either repeated or that an action is accomplished with intensity. It can be added after other verbal extensions, for example as in the last example, where it occurred after the reciprocal -AN-, or after passive extensions, as in the second line of the following examples :

Table 3.25 C: repetitive verb derivation kyanak-a ‘to suffer’ -> kyanan-an-a-k-a ‘to mistreat’ (literally to suffer each other intensely) choch-óni-o ‘be moved’ -> choch-ón-o-k-o ’to get something completely distorted : to tell lies’ bokú-o ‘to greet; ask’ -> bokú-on-o-k-o ‘to keep interacting; to keep visiting’ tub-ó-k-o ‘to build’ -> tub-on-ó-k-i-o ‘to be built’ (lit. to build oneself completely for.) bót-o ‘to touch’ -> bot-ó-k-o ‘to be filled with’ kut-o ‘to close once -> kut-o-k-o ‘to cover completely’ more ’ wól-o ‘to sit’ -> wól-o-k-o ‘to be seated (definitely)’ pech-o ‘to heat over a -> pech-o-ko ‘to take care that something is steaming hot’ fire’ pan-a ‘to show’ -> pan-a-k-a ‘to enlarge; to make something clear’ kynd-a ‘to go’ -> kynd-a-k-a ‘to regularly visit’ nnd-á ‘to sting’ -> n-nd-á-k-a ‘to shoot several times’ n-nd-á ‘to shoot; (var. n-nd-á-ka ‘to sting’) to refuse ’ ní-jo ‘to descend’ -> ni-j-on-o-k-o ‘to dance’

Forms ending on –anaka/ onoko are often used in derogatory sense. Other examples of forms with these derivations that are used in derogatory sense are yakánaka ‘to talk without sense; to tell nonsense’ and hatánaka ‘to search at all price.’ More examples follow. The last two lines have class 9 prefix nÍ- because of the consonantal verb-roots used in those lines. See section 7.2.5.6 for an example of the idiomatic use of this verb in the launching of riddles. The repetitive –k- is added to the final vowel of the verb. The applicative vowel –i-always occurs at the end of the verb form:

93 jón-o ‘to meet each other’ -> jón-o-k-io ‘to meet as a group pipi-o ‘to end with’ -> pip-i-o-k-i-o ‘to put closure to something’ tnd--a ‘to trace’ -> tndá-k--a ‘to mince; to cut fine’ ní-w-i-o ‘to die because of’ -> ni-w-o-k-i-o ‘to definitely die because of something’ gyáb-a ‘to wash -> gyáb-an-a-k--a ‘to be washed; be healed’ sk-a ‘to get; to take’ -> sk-an-a-k--a ‘to be angry/ upset’

The fourth example has verb-root prefix ní- that is conditioned by the verb-root. The last two examples have a derogatory connotation, although these derivations do not result from a combination of reciprocal -AN- with repetitive –K- and the applicative. They appear to be passives ANI that lost their final vowel –I in preceding the repetitive –K. The–k- can also be repeated in reduplication before the final vowel. This expresses emphasis, for example in conveying intensive repetition: n-ng-a ‘to announce’ -> n-nga-k-a-na-k-a to talk something over amongst each other’

Last example has two verbal extensions –k- in one and the same verb form. This is not unusual in Budu.

3.5.1.4 The Passive Extension on –NÍ

Budu has a rather exceptional use of its passive derivation, as this is restricted to past participals. Past participials follow inflected forms of the same verbal root. They usually emphasize affirmations, as in the following responses:

W-k? Oí, n-k ka--n PF.2SG-hear Yes, PF.1SG-hear hear-PASPTC 1. Did you understand that? Indeed, I did understand (it).

W-k nd ta? Ii, n-m -bha ma--n m-oí a-sm. PF.2SG-do INT work yes PF.1SG-cultitvate CL-field cultivate-PASPTC CL-woman CL-mine 2. (WIFE). “Did you work then ?” (HUSBAND) “Yes, I indeed cultivated a field, o my wife.”

The passive derivation not necessarily repeats the inflected form of the same root. Passive participals can also be attached to an inflected copula. The following copula is part of a noun modification that specifies mepo ‘water’ as not yet having been boiled. Emphasis is expressed by an active participial of a verbal root that expresses ‘prepare; boil’:

N-t-mwa batá k m-epo k-a- mb -n km ma-s-. PF.1SG-CONS-drink again too CL6-water CL6-EXIST-NEGIPF-PAS not CL6-boil-ACTIVE.PTC 13. I then drank again “water not yet being boiled, being unprepared.

In line 13. ka- represents the existential a- . The subject prefix k- marks agreement with class 6 of the noun mepo ‘water’. This copula ka- is derived in the passive, although it is no predicate. It negates the predicate mas that follows it. This predicate with class 6 prefix ma- literally means ‘the class 6 thing has been boiled’. This negation of the copula mb indicates the unaccomplished aspect ‘not yet,’ as will be explained in section about negation particles (see table 3.32). Line 13 illustrates that passive derivation is apparently not limited to predicates.

To indicate the passive mood, a morpheme –NI – can be added between root and the final vowel:

94 Table 3.25 D: passive verb derivation gboso ‘to throw down’ -> gboso-ní-o ‘to be trodden in the mud; to curse’ kt-a ’to bite; to cut’ -> kta-n-a ‘to be bitten’ yom-o ‘to stretch’ -> yomo-ní-o ‘to straighten’ mb-aa ‘to shake; shudder’ -> mba-mba-ní-o ‘be troubled; be in despair’ p-a ‘to carry; to bear’ -> p(a)-n-a ‘to put clothes on’ saák-a ‘to spend the time’ -> sa-n-a ‘remain’ n-t-a ‘to give birth’ -> n-ta-n-a ‘to be born’ n-ta ‘to ask for; beg’ -> tá-ta-n-a ‘desire, hope, wish’ ni-chó ‘to move (something)’ -> chochó-ní-o ‘to be moved (something); to get moved (somebody)’

The three last examples have class 9 prefix ní- in the left column. The difference between verbs with consonantal roots (C) and verbs with vowel initial consonantal roots (VC) roots can be observed from passives only. The root of nta ‘to bear; to give birth’ is the vowel initial t and it therefore uses a class 9 prefix ní- as ‘dummy’ part. Whereas the last two verb roots -t- and –ch- have no root vowel to attach a prefix to. They repeat their single consonant with the help of the reduplicated final vowel, as can be observed from the last two examples.53 The passive of vowel initial roots has the class 9 prefix n- in its first syllable, where consonantal roots have a reduplicated consonant (t; ch; or mb in the examples). Verbal extensions are pronounced in harmony with the vowel quality of the verb root. Verb roots with [+ATR] quality vowels take -io, -ono, -onio, -onokio, whereas roots with [-ATR] quality take -a,-ana,-ana,-anaka. Vowels of the root (e.g. sig-, nt-, bokú-, bhbh-) determine the vowel quality of the extensions (e.g. -onio, -ana). One exception on this rule will be discussed next.

3.5.1.5 The Causative Extension –íso

The causative extension–íso has not been discussed yet. The invariable vowel quality in the pronunciation of this extension is noteworthy. To indicate that an action is caused by the Agent self, the morpheme –IS- is added between root and the final vowel: bnd-a -->bend- ís-o. The form bnd-a [-ATR] is characterised by its absence of ATR quality. With the causative extension the form changes into bend- [+ATR]. Contrary to other derivations, the causative extension is not changed under influence of the verb root. The verbal root bnd- has [- ATR] value, however the suffix –is- is not pronounced with [- ATR] vowel quality it rather dominates the root to make it change its quality into [+ATR]. Furthermore the causative suffix seems to dominate the rest of the phonological word resulting in a [+ ATR] pronunciation of the entire word. This example is representative for all other verbs with causative extension, consider table 3.25:

53This is the only case where the tone of the verbal form is carried by its final vowel and not by the consonantal root.

95

Table 3.25 E: causative verb derivation bnda ‘to knock’ -> bénd-íso ‘to have somebody knocked’ bhbha ‘to praise’ -> bhíbh-ís-o ‘to make somebody praise’ nta ‘to deliver’ -> not-ís-o ‘to make deliver’ hna ‘to plant’ -> hún-í-o ‘to have something planted’ pna ‘to wear’ -> pin-í-o ‘to cause to wear’ kpkma ‘to shake’ -> kpukum-í-o ‘to do shake’ hata ‘to search’ -> hat-ís-o ‘to cause to search’ det-o ‘to climb’ -> det-ís-o ‘to make climb’ kí-o ‘to cut’ -> kí-ís-o ‘have circumcised; make cut’ bót-o ‘to hold’ -> bót-ís-o ‘to make hold’ ngús-o ‘to raise’ -> ngús-ís-o ‘to cause to raise’ nách-o ‘to turn; -> nách-ís-o ‘to make turn’ to translate; to twist’ tubónoki-o ‘to be built’ -> tubónok-ís-o ‘to erect a building’

The top half of table 3.25 displays the changes that the causative derivation –iso induces in the verb roots. The last line shows that, since the vowel /a/ is neutral with regards to vowel harmony, its quality remains the same under the influence of the causative extension. The bottom half of table 3.25 displays verb roots with [+ ATR] pronunciation that remain unchanged when followed by the causative extension –is-. The examples in table 3.25 illustrate that the causative extension is not susceptible to the dominion of the roots’ vowel quality, as other verbal extensions are. If the causative extension –is- is added to a word, the entire word takes the [+ ATR] quality in harmony with the extension –is-. Only other verbal extensions with the vowel –a- can block the dominating spread leftwards, as in: kynda-k-a ‘to travel frequently’ -> kynd-ak-ís-o ‘to make somebody travel’ knd-an-a ‘to like each other’ -> knd-an-íso ‘to cause mutual love’ sk-an-a ‘to hold each other’ -> sk-an-ís-o ‘to make people hold each other/themselves’

Despite the presence of the causative suffix –is-, the vowels of the roots kynd-, sk- remain unaltered. These vowels are not pronounced in harmony with the [+ ATR] derivation: knd-a ‘to prefer; to like’ -> knd-ís-o ‘to please; to cause to love’’

In the previous sections some examples of combined verb extensions were given. The most frequent combinations of verb derivations consist of passive extensions (-NÍ with causative extensions) and of repetitive extensions (with reciprocal extensions see also Asangama 1983:443).

96 3.5.2 Verb Inflection

3.5.2.0 Introduction and Overview

The most simple verb inflections consist of the imperative singular forms on –á: Katá ‘Stop!’ or: Ndá! ‘go for it!’ or literally: ‘shoot.’54 Plurals have -éni. Apart from this differentiation between plural and singular, the imperative has no inflection for person (Asangama 1983:348).To express contrasts, fully inflected optative forms may be used for negated imperatives (for the optative see section 3.2.11.2). The segmental suffix–eni has several functions. The merger of functions in this particular form is exceptional and is therefore mentioned as characteristic for Budu (Nurse and Philippson 2003:366). The imperative with its H is differentiated by tone, like in other Bantu D languages and in Swahili. The conditional mood is indicated with the verbal extension –eni (L). The same inflection on –eni (L) occurs in gerund constructions, which are used to describe activities that happen simultaneous to the main action (Asangama 1983:283). In table 3.26 gerund suffixes are combined with an inflected auxiliary (the verb bio ‘to be in this example):’ Table 3.26 inflection with the segmental extension –eni hat-a ‘to search’ abio b hat-eni ‘(is) searching or hat-éni ‘search’! (PL) bokú-o ‘to ask; greet’ abio b bokú-eni ‘(is) visiting; greeting or bokú-éni ‘greet’! (PL) hn-a ‘to plant’ abio b hn–eni ‘(is) planting or hn-éni ‘plant’! (PL) sk-a ‘to get; to take’ abio b sk–eni ‘(is) gripping; taking or sk-éni ‘hold’! (PL) tk-a ‘to take care of’ abio b tk–eni ‘(is) taking care of or tk-éni ‘nurse’! (PL) bt-a ‘to wait’ abio b bt-eni ‘(is) waiting or bt-éni ‘wait’! (PL)

Table 3.26 shows that the vowel quality of –eni remains unaltered, indistinctive of the verbal root which precedes it. The suffix does not take the vowel quality of the verbal root. Forms on –éni are not sensitive to vowel harmony. However, unlike the causative extension on –íso the [+ATR] quality of –eni does not determine the vowel quality of the phonological word in which it occurs. In contrast to the imperative, all other inflections of the verb have subject prefixes attached to the verbal root, as the examples with the conditional showed. Sometimes the object is indicated with a verbal prefix too (see section 3.4.4). Subject Prefixes are differentiated for both Aspect and Number. They carry Default Low (DL) tone and therefore are the first Tone Bearing Unit (TBU) for the verbal tone melody. Aspect is indicated by the tone and by the vowel of the Subject prefix, as illustrated in Table 3.27. Similar to other so called ‘Forest Bantu’ languages Budu tonal distinctions form an important difference between first and second person singular (both L) and the other persons (usually H) (Grégoire 2003:26). In the following sections the acronyms H, L, R and DL indicate tones, while TBU indicates the syllable that carries the tone.

54This imperative is used in figurative sense, when the speaker accepts to be challenged with a riddle.

97 Table 3.27 Subject Prefixes expressing Perfect Aspect and Number III Table 3.27A Perfect Perfect Table 3.27A H- root (narrative past) (historic H- root present) 1 SG na-knda RLL n-knd LHH 1 SG 2 SG wa-knda RLL w-knd LHH 2 SG 3 SG á-knda HLL -knd HHH 3 SG 1 PL tá-knda HLL t-knd HHH 1 PL 2 PL ná-knda HLL n-knd HHH 2 PL 3 PL bá-knda HLL b-knd HHH 3 PL

Table 3.27B perfect (narrative perfect (historic Table 3.27B H-root past) present) H-root 1 SG na-pobo RLL no-póbó LHH 1 SG 2 SG wa-pobo RLL wo-póbó LHH 2 SG 3 SG á-pobo HLL ó-póbó HHH 3 SG 1 PL tá-pobo HLL tó-póbó HHH 1 PL 2 PL ná-pobo HLL nó-póbó HHH 2 PL 3 PL bá-pobo HLL bó-póbó HHH 3 PL

Table 3.27C perfect (narrative perfect (historic Table 3.27C L-root past) present) L-root 1 SG na-ska LHL n-sk LHL 1 SG 2 SG wa-ska LHL w-sk LHL 2 SG 3 SG á-ska HHL -sk HHL 3 SG 1 PL tá-ska HHL t-sk HHL 1 PL 2 PL ná-ska HHL n-sk HHL 2 PL 3 PL bá-ska HHL b-sk HHL 3 PL

Table 3.27D perfect (narrative perfect (historic Table 3.27D L-root past) present) L-root 1 SG na-pípo LHL no-píp-o LHL 1 SG 2 SG wa-pípo LHL wo-píp-o LHL 2 SG 3 SG á-pípo HHL ó-píp-o HHL 3 SG 1 PL tá-pípo HHL tó-píp-o HHL 1 PL 2 PL ná-pípo HHL nó-píp-o HHL 2 PL 3 PL bá-pípo HHL bó-píp-o HHL 3 PL

98 Table 3.27 Subject Prefixes expressing Imperfect Aspect and Number

III IV Table 3.27A Imperfect Imperfect Table 3.27A H- root (future) (present) H- root

1 SG na-kndá R’HH na-knda LHL 1 SG 2 SG wa-kndá R’HH wa-knda LHL 2 SG 3 SG á-kndá H’HH á-knda HHL 3 SG 1 PL tá-kndá H’HH tá-knda HHL 1 PL 2 PL ná-kndá H’HH ná-knda HHL 2 PL 3 PL bá-kndá H’HH bá-knda HHL 3 PL

Table 3.27B imperfect imperfect Table 3.27B H-root (future) (present) H-root

1 SG na-póbó R’HH na-póbo LHL 1 SG 2 SG wa-póbó R’HH wa-póbo LHL 2 SG 3 SG á-póbó H’HH á-póbo HHL 3 SG 1 PL tá-póbó H’HH tá-póbo HHL 1 PL 2 PL ná-póbó H’HH ná-póbo HHL 2 PL 3 PL bá-póbó H’HH bá-póbo HHL 3 PL

Table 3.27C imperfect imperfect Table 3.27C L-root (future) (present) L-root

1 SG na-ská RHH na-ska LLL 1 SG 2 SG wa-ská RHH wa-ska LLL 2 SG 3 SG á-ská HHH á-ska HLL 3 SG 1 PL tá-ská HHH tá-ska HLL 1 PL 2 PL ná-ská HHH ná-ska HLL 2 PL 3 PL bá-ská HHH bá-ska HLL 3 PL

Table 3.27D imperfect imperfect Table 3.27D L-root (future) (present) L-root

1 SG na-pípó RHH na-pipo LLL 1 SG 2 SG wa-pípó RHH wa-pipo LLL 2 SG 3 SG á-pípó HHH á-pipo HLL 3 SG 1 PL tá-pípó HHH tá-pipo HLL 1 PL 2 PL ná-pípó HHH ná-pipo HLL 2 PL 3 PL bá-pípó HHH bá-pipo HLL 3 PL

The first observation about table 3.27 is that Narrative Perfect and Imperfect have the same vowel in their prefix. In contrast, the Historic-Present Perfect has ó- and in the Imperfect á- for subject prefix. So the segmental difference is not exclusive to the distinction Imperfect versus Perfect, it also exists between the Historic Perfect and the Narrative Perfect. Furthermore it is only one of many distinctions between Imperfect and Perfect forms. The tonal indications between brackets occur in the column to the right of the verb forms. A comparison of the four columns reveals the uniqueness of each Aspect.

99 In column III of table 3.27 the apostrophe is used to denote super H. Super H distinguishes Imperfect verb forms with H root in Budu Neta (Anzabati 2003:10). The top half of table 3.27 displays the tonal behaviour of forms of H verb roots, the lower half that of L roots. Verbs consist of either H or L roots, followed by a DL final vowel. H roots that have an initial depressor consonant (bh, dh, j, gb, and h) exhibit a R, conditioned by this segmental environment (see footnote 21).The verb forms in table 3.37 only display the TAM distinctions of monosyllabic verb roots. Monosyllabic roots were selected for expository reasons. Their limited amount of TAM distinctions is representative of most verb forms. Asangama 1983 systematically describes the tonal behaviour of polysyllabic, consonantal and vowel-initial verb roots and their tonal behaviour in the Wadimbisa dialect (representative for Neta).55 It is beyond the scope of this study to describe such details of the phonology. In the following section just the main distinctions, which are indicated in table 3.27, are discussed. Comparing the two different Perfect inflections, a preliminary remark about their difference in nature may be helpful. One can compare historic-present forms to the English ‘present progressive,’ used for accomplishments in the past, when effects are still noticeable (Asangama 1983: 302). The names used for the various kinds of Aspect follows from an attempt to indicate the usual function of Narrative Perfect in ‘narratives’ and of the historic-present Perfect in quick sequences of actions on which the narrator looks back. Asangama (1983: 302) uses the term ‘l’accompli perfectif.’ Although Perfect Aspect is used to indicate actions or processes that are (being) accomplished, this can be either at the moment of speaking or in some remote past. If the verb refers to some accomplishment in the past, the prefix of the Perfect is distinguished by the vowel á-. This vowel also occurs in the Imperfect Subject Prefix. Perfect Historic present has a different vowel prefix. Table 3.37 will now be discussed column per column.

3.5.2.1 Syntactical Expressions of Tense, Aspect and Mood (TAM)

Tense, Mood and Aspect are marked syntactically by a combination of segmental and tonal distinctions. Tonal distinctions of Aspect are supported segmentally, some by adverbial clitics. Tense is always expressed periphrastically with a fixed set of adverbs if the context itself does not disambiguate a form. Column I and II indicate the distinctions of Perfect Aspect, column III and IV that of the Imperfect. Since the distinction between Perfect and Imperfect Aspect is basic to all other TAM distinctions in Budu, Perfect and Imperfect tonal melodies are discussed column by column. Some remarks regarding the discontinuous nature of Aspect marking need to be made first. Subject Prefixes are not the only marking of Aspect on the inflected verb. Aspect markers occur in both pre-root and post root position. Aspect is marked discontinuously on the Subject Prefix and on the final vowel. Consider, for example, line 11 from a life story:

Ta-ska-na ak b-isi b- u-yi kumi n bku u-yi, PF.1PL-marry-REC on CL-day CL-of CL-month 10 (SW) and 4 CL-month 11. We were married on the fourteenth of the month

ng-wa-w w- tkb,i-go,ng-y y- 1975. DET-CL-ANAPH CL-of 10 CL-year DET-REL CL-of 1975 October of the year 1975.

Line 11 is a clear example of a statement concerning an accomplished fact. It therefore is expressed in the Perfect (cf. column II). The Subject Prefix of the inflected verb taskana consists of ta- with DL. This prefix indicates the first plural number tà- in combination with an aspect marking H for

55See Bafau’ ndey (1985) for a description of the verbal forms in the Koy dialect of Koya (spoken on the Wamba side of the River Nepoko).

100 Perfect Aspect. This aspect is also indicated by a reversal of the root L tone root into H tone. The H spreads to the toneless final vowel –a. The aspect of this form is indicated at the root, at the prefix and at the final-vowel. Three Tone Bearing Units (TBU’s) carry tonal distinctions of the Perfect. Compare line 11’s Perfect form to the Imperfect form in line 4:

Ná-na-sig-io b ‘Sa! ’ IPF.1SG-you(PL)-proclaim-APL that stop 4. I declare the following (law) to all of you: “Stop it !”

In line 4 an Imperfect present form is used (cf. Column IV). Its subject prefix consists of ná- indicating first singular. Since first and second singular can not carry H, the Aspect Marking H is realised as L or R, depending on the dialect. Where some consonants have a depressor effect on the realisation of H tone, here the syntactic tone has a grammatical depressor effect. This grammatical depressor effect only exists in the first and second singular of the Imperfect. The final vowel is default L. Imperfect aspect requires no reversal of the root tone, unlike Perfect aspect. The previous two examples illustrate the discontinuous nature of Budu Aspect marking. Before the discontinuity of Aspect marking is illustrated with more examples, the basic Aspect distinctions will be explained in more detail.

3.5.2.2 Perfect Narrative Past Tense

Column I of table 3.27 shows Perfect forms that are used for (Narrative) Past. This tense is expressed syntactically by its tonal pattern and can be supported by adverbial specifications like: ‘a few days ago’ or ‘in former days,’ resulting in the tenses that are listed in table 3.28A:

Table 3.28 A: Budu lexical tense differentiation

V jn V accomplished in a remote past Remote or Distant Past (V- png / pn V accomplished a few hours ago Present Progressive) or decided at the moment of speaking V–p V accomplished between yesterday and longer ago Past V-png V accomplished some time ago or even weeks ago Recent Past 56 V + png Action (V) accomplished lately (considerably variation) ‘lately’

If the action of the verb took place only recently the verb has a present historic Perfect inflection (table 3.27 column II). In contrast to Narrative Past forms its prefix has no vowel a- but a vowel O-. Asangama calls this inflection the recent past or the Perfective (1983:302 “accompli récent ou perfectif”). Lexical support for this Perfect is by the present progressive adverbial png or pn as indicated in line 2 of table 3.28. This form is the only form in table 3.28 that does not support a narrative past Perfect form and therefore it is printed between brackets. Lexical support for the narrative past (column I of table 3.27) exhibits a considerable dialectical variety. Alternative adverbials are clitics with png; png; png. These clitics are attached to the verb-final vowel and form one intonation unit with the verb complex, whereas negation adverbs precede time adverbials. The vowel quality of temporal adverbs is not influenced by the verb root. None of the adverbials of table 3.28 can be used independently, except for jn. Jn ‘in- former-days’ is used in sentence initial adverbials as an idiomatic opening for stories about the remote

56The existence of the verb pnga ‘to begin’ seems to suggest an etymological relation with all the variations that have developed in the different dialects.

101 past, such as angbinga ngak bakuku jn ‘In former days, those of our ancestors.’ Because of its use in paragraph setting, the Perfect Past is frequently used in narratives. These forms often follow an indication of time by adverbial or connective. This is the reason why they are labelled the Perfect Narrative Past.

3.5.2.3 Historic-Present Perfect

The Perfect of table 3.27 Column II is used for the recent past. This form, the historic-present, is often used in greetings, like: tw? “Have you returned recently?” in the sense: “Hi there, you’re back again!” upon meeting a village inhabitant who was on a trip. The Historic-Present is used in storytelling as well. The sequence of ongoing actions in a story is often indicated by a series of Historic-Present forms.57 Many stories contain series of short clauses. These clauses consist of one inflected verb. If the verb is transitive, it occurs with its Object. Such series are used to describe quick sequences of actions. Several other distinctions of Aspect are based on this Perfect-Historic inflection. The conditional, for example, is made with these Perfect forms (Asangama 1983:282), as the examples in 3.5.2.0 show, where –eni is added to the final vowel. Other types of inflection are formed by inserting prefixes to the verb root. These particular prefixes occur after the verbal prefixes immediately preceding the Verb root. The consecutive is the most common Aspect that can be made with Historic Presents (Asangama 1983:325). The Consecutive is distinguished by its verb final H. Consecutives with prefixes are used after adverbial clauses, indicating the moment that is immediately following the setting of an episode (Asangama 1983: 329). This type of consecutive is marked with verbal prefix–t-:

Ak-gana u-mongu, b-t-na ta -mva m-ng-. PROG-to.open CL-door, PF.3PL-CONS-see now CL-dog CL-bind-PTC.PAST 13. Upon opening the door, they immediately found the tied dog.

The segmental consecutive with –t- occurs in independent clauses that follow various kinds of temporal adverbials. The consecutive form indicates the most important action. In the story following line 13 ‘finding the dog’ indeed proves to be a matter of life and death. Often these segmental consecutives with prefix –t- are used to indicate that the second action described in a sentence is the objective of the first:

T-idó b, m-ombí mnganá -sa-s -t-yaka-na-ka n Ngama Mkk, Just-good that, CL-person CL-one OPT.3SG-go-first 3SG.CONS-talk-REC-REP ADD chief Mukoku 8. It would be good if one single person would go in order to talk with chief Mukoku

Ak dya-kaka ng-y(-y) s dh skm ban tá-sio sio-ní. about of eat-INT.RED DET-REL-(of) us for without such IPF.1PL-die die-PASPTC 9. regarding that (need of) eating of ours, for otherwise we will surely die.

The first clause of line 8 indicates the ‘going to the village chief’ as an option that is considered in order to solve the problem of line 9. The first verb form refers to the option of ‘going’ with an optative. The second form continues the irreal mood by its underlined prefix and its final H that both distinguish it as consecutive. This form refers to the ‘talking’ for which the representative ‘should be going.’ The second action in line 8 is the objective of the first one. In line 8 the consecutive is used to indicate that the ‘talking’ is the aim of the ‘going.’ Perfect consecutive forms with prefix –t- indicate important actions.

57Asangama therefore describes this verb inflection the Progressive Perfect (1983:302).

102 The same consecutive form also occurs without prefix –t- . Tonal distinctions are the most important distinction of the prefix-less consecutive. I therefore called it the tonal consecutive (see table 3.30). Its final H indicates, in combination with the other distinctions of the consecutive form, that the TAM distinctions of a previous form are continued. Repeating the full TAM distinctions becomes redundant. This specific application of the consecutive is used to describe successive orders.58 Such sequences may continue a specific Mood, for instance the Optative, Imperative or Conditional, indicating that the described process is not yet accomplished. Therefore this type of consecutive frequently occurs in procedural texts, while only the most important steps are referred to with plain imperatives. Consider the next fragment from a recipe, where two imperatives introduce the use of several consecutive forms. Line 9 has a form with [+ATR] verb root. It starts with an , in its subject prefix like the other forms, but ends with an O: All verb forms carry imperative mood as indicated by the sequence of the consecutive forms:

Sá-s bunjo-ko a-kpta ng-ya ta manjanja Go.IMP-MIT harvest-REP CL-cassave.leaves DET-CL ADI pretty 3. Go then, harvest the greenest cassave leaves;

N -gbáa ínaní a-mibo w- kbhaa. ADD CL-piece ANAPH CL- midst CL-of field in the middle piece of the field there .

Bhuwokó-s m-tnd y-ng, w-ska dyalá. W-gbnda ja. Break-IMP.SG-MIT CL-leg CL-logophoric CONS.2SG-get fire CONS.2SG-fire very 4. First you detach the leaves from their stem. 5. Then you get charcoal 6. to light a huge fire.

W-gyaba ma-gbata. W-mangana n ma-n, CONS.2SG –wash CL-pot CONS.2SG -tie ADD CL-leave 7. You then rinse the cooking pot. 8.You tie (the pot) with leaves.

W-napioko n l-bg p kpokuma, W-mbmbta. PF.2SG-put.one.thing.after.another ADD CL- bananas or cassava.roots CONS.2SG-fasten 9. Have you put bananas or cassava roots (on top of the tied leaves-lid), 10. then fasten those.

The second column in table 3.27 showed that perfect-Historic Present forms start with [O] and end with [O]. The derived consecutives have no [O] vowel. The final vowel of [-ATR] forms is –á, as the forms in the lines 6, 7, 8 and 10 show. Note that the verb final vowel is not the same as the vowel of the subject prefix, as it is in the plain Perfect Historic forms of Column II. In consecutive forms the final vowel of the verb is –a for [-ATR] and –o for [+ATR], as a comparison with the first form in line 9 shows. This fragment from a recipe describes a series of actions involved in the procedure of preparing a traditional recipe.59 The individual steps, as indicated in the text, are described as a sequence of actions that quickly follow each other. This is implied by the use of the consecutive verb forms with H on their verb final vowel. The forms continue the mitigated imperatives of line 3 and 4. 60

58The ratio between a series of consecutive forms and one fully distinguished form implies a certain emphasis on the fully distinguished form. This effect can be used to outline the main action of an instruction. 59Budu-made mineral salt contains ashes from burnt swamp vegetation. The preparation of cassava leaves with this home made product is called ‘black cassava leaves.’ 60Note that the mitigating clitic in these lines supports an emphasis on the mainline procedures, cf. footnote 58. Later in the same text other main line procedures are also marked by mitigation clitics, as usual in Budu.

103 3.5.2.4 Progressive Aspect

Infinitival forms of the verb can be used with preposition ak- , that can be considered as class 15 prefix, see footnote 45. Such ‘long infinitives’, as I called them, are used to indicate a process or to describe a situation (cf. Asangama 1983:359). In line 13 (with the tied dog) the opening of the door is described in a subordinate sentence. The progressive infinitive is used to describe the circumstances under which the tied dog was discovered. Long infinitives are often used in combination with auxiliaries that express aspect. Asangama (1983:366,7) calls such auxiliaries in French ‘neo-auxiliaries.’ They are ‘new’ in comparison to the existential auxiliaries and used to emphasize the begin of a process (pünga ‘to start’; fáníso ‘to start’ or: nîka ’to come’; and nîsa), ‘to go’) or the end of a process (the perfective pipo ‘to end’). In contrast, the infinitive also has a ‘short’ form without prefix61 or with preposition a- instead of a class 15 prefix. Short infinitives indicate a goal rather than a process. Short infinitives are often used with auxiliaries that express mood (Asangama also calles these neo-auxiliaries), such as kûnda ‘to like’ and háta ‘to search’.

3.5.2.5 Perfect Aspect

The tonal behaviour of the two different Perfect inflections is most clear from comparisons. If forms with Object Prefixes are compared to forms without OP’s, a tonal shift is revealed. If we look at the Historic- Present Perfect forms: Ó-pót-ó mwáná; Ó-mú-pót-ò mwaná ‘She caught the child; she caught (it) the child’. we can see that the H of the historic-present aspect occurs in pre-root position. It spreads to the right until it finds a TBU with DL where it can be realised as well. If it finds an OP that can carry the H, this H is the tone distinguishing the Perfect (remember that OP’s in themselves have DL.) Both the pre-root H and its spreading behaviour are distinctive for Perfect Aspect in present-historic forms. Forms that have no OP still tend to have H spreading, even beyond the morpheme boundaries of the verb. This is why the first syllable of the object mwaná ‘child’ becomes H: mwáná in the phrase without OP. If the verb root is not H, as it was in this example’s póto ‘to held,’ the H-spreading attaches to the DL verb root, e.g. ókpátó mwaná ‘she is following the child.’ In Table 3.29 the historic-present Perfect is compared to the Perfect Narrative past. Distinctions are presented in table 3.29:

61Verb roots that are merely consonantal or vowel initial verb roots have class 9 zero prefix NI-,see table 3.25 last lines.

104 Table 3.29. Perfect: Historic-Present and Narrative Past

H verb root: póto (mwaná) ó-pót-ó mwáná ‘He/she/it just caught the/a child’. ‘to hold/touch a child’ ó-kpáto mwaná ‘He/she/it just followed the/a child’. Perfect (Historic Present) 3 SG H-verb root-DL + noun

OP referring to the child: ó-mú-pót-ò mwaná ‘He/she/it just caught (it) the child.’ ó -m-kpát-o mwaná ‘He/she/it just followed (it) the child.’

Perfect Narrative Past 3 SG á-pot-o mwaná ‘He/she/it held a/the child.’ á-kpát-a mwaná ‘He/she/it followed a/the child.’

With OP referring to the child: á-mú-póto mwáná ‘He/she/it held (it) the child.’ á-m-kpat-a mwáná ‘He/she/it followed (it) the child.’

Table 3.29 compares verb forms to H verb root verb póto ‘to touch’ to verb forms with L verb root kpata ‘to follow.’ Both forms are used in combination with mwaná ‘child.’ In the first line the Perfect Historic-Present of the third person singular is illustrated. The DL verb-final vowel gets grammatical H attached to it because the H verb root is not available as TBU. The verb-final vowel therefore is the first available TBU for the Perfect H. A verb root with L like, for instance, kpata ‘to follow’ is available as TBU for the Perfect H. Therefore, line two of 3.29 has a verb- final vowel that remains DL. The tonal distinction of the historic-present Perfect is its H attached to the Subject prefix, which spreads to the first TBU to its right that has L. If the verb phrase has an OP, this toneless morpheme is available as TBU of the Perfect H. And if the OP gets the Perfect H, the verb final vowel remains DL. Consider the last line with a historic present. It has two verbs with OP’s. Here the two verb roots get the same tonal pattern, since the H can spread rightwards from the subject prefix to the OP. In contrast, the same verb with Perfect Narrative Past distinctions gets reversed root tone: the H becomes L (póto -> poto). In comparison with L verb-roots, the distinction by reversal of tones is obvious. In Perfect Narratives, L root tone is changed into H. Consider for instance á-kpát-a mwaná. ‘He/she or it followed the child.’ The root with L is reversed. Both forms have H subject prefixes. If this Aspect occurs with an OP, the H of the Subject prefix is attached to the TBU of this OP. Apparently the tonal reversal of the root tone is activated by a rightward spread, that is blocked in this case. This is the case for L verb root as well as for H verb roots; neither reverses its tone in narrative Perfect Past phrases with an OP, according to Asangama (1983:303). The last line of table 3.29 has the noun mwaná ‘child’ realised as mwáná. The grammatical H of the Perfect narrative past is attached to the first TBU that follows the verb form to compensate for the blocked reversal-effect of the OP. Perfects with OP’s, LH roots and consonantal roots necessitate an alternative realisation of their tonal pattern in forms with Narrative Past, as tonal reversal is blocked in those exceptions. In these exceptional forms the Perfect Narrative is only distinguished by a verb final floating H that is attached to the first TBU following the verb form. In contrast to some Perfect Historic forms, the verb final vowel always remains L in the Narrative past. The last line gives an impression of the relatively frequent occurrence of exceptional cases.

105 Imperfect is distinguished by its H on the Verb-final vowel (Asangama 1983:311). This Imperfect H replaces the DL of verb final vowels. The final H, in combination with Subject prefixes with vowel –a-, marks the Imperfect. Consider for instance: Á-pót-ó mwáná; Á-mu-pót-ó mwáná ‘She holds the child; she holds (it) the child’. Characteristic for this grammatical H is, that it reduplicates itself to first DL to the right of the inflected form, across morpheme boundaries. It spreads to the first syllable of the noun mwaná ‘child,’ that has a root with L first syllable. The H spreading from the verb-final vowel, in combination with the initial á- prefix of the verb form is distinctive for the Imperfect. In some dialects, such as the Ibambi one, displayed in table 3.27, Imperfect H with H verb roots is realised as super H. This is indicated by the exclamation mark in table 3.27. The example with the OP mu ‘ it’ illustrates the unaltered nature of OP as DL, as it remains L in Imperfect verb forms. (As was discussed with the Perfect, the OP in Perfect forms becomes H as a rightwards spread of pre-root H distinguishes this other aspect.) The major distinctions between the syntactic Aspects were introduced in this section. In the following sections other TAM distinctions that are formed with Imperfect and Perfect verb forms are discussed.

3.5.2.7 Habitual Aspect

Habitual Aspect can be expressed by forms with verb-root prefix –k- . This inflection is formed with Imperfect forms (Asangama 1983:315). Asangama (p.322) calls it ‘ l’inaccompli duratif’ Consider line 25:

Dyakaka y-tà bb, ya-k-yongo -káa ng-y y-áng n ba-kabu. to.feed CL-ADIM bad CL-IPF-HAB-disturb CL-house DET-REL CL-his ADD CL-sickness 25. Bad eating habits were disturbing the household, that one of his, with sicknesses.

The root prefix –k- is used with the Perfect historic-present of the verb yongo ‘disturb,’ indicating its ongoing nature. It refers to a process that is related to the (eating) habits of the members of a household, in this case. Line 4 has a form illustrating dialectal variation: some dialects use a palatalised consonant ky in their habitual prefix:

M-epo ng-ka ba-ky-k-tka tá a-lisíni ka-ky-ka n ba-tt, CL-water DET-CL IPF.3PL-HAB-OP-draw just from-spring CL.IPF-HAB-remain with CL-creatures 4. The water that is usually taken directly from the spring does normally keep its creatures.

The habitual prefix with the Imperfect inflection of the root tka ‘to draw water’ indicates an ongoing process. In this case it is related to the habits of the water carriers. Abati (2003: 26) provides examples of the habitual as –k. The dialectal variation with –k ()- or – ky- suggests a development from the auxiliary k ‘he/she/it kept.’ This inflected form of the verb ka ‘ to do’ perhaps developed into a habitual marking prefix. The habitual Aspect is indicated with verbal prefix –K(Y)O- in Budu. Instead of this prefix the repetitive extension –áká is used to express an ongoing action that has stopped at the moment of speaking (Asangama 1983:322). If the ongoing action used to be a habit, it can even be indicated with both extension and prefix. A third expression of ongoing action can be made with class 15 prefix ak-. Normally the progressive infinitive occurs with this prefix (see section 5.2.4). However, if existentials (-a ‘is’) are used for auxiliary, the difference with inflected verbs that have the habitual prefix –k- is minimal (see Asangama 1983:389).

106 3.5.2.8 Habitual Narratives

Another Habitual refers to past actions that never came to fulfilment. This habitual is formed with Imperfect Aspect, to express its unaccomplished nature. Actions that are done with intensity or repeatedly are described with the Imperfect Aspect in combination with the verb-root prefix–tí-. Intensive Imperfect Habituals indicate an effort in the Past that has not yet been accomplished like natíkpatá bóí ‘I was following women’ (not that I found one in particular). Asangama (1983:322,323) mentions this clarifying example, in which the focus is more on the process than on the end result. It is distinctive for this “habitual of the Past,” as Asangama calls it, that the –tí- prefix, and not the Subject Prefix that usually carries grammatical H, has H attached to it. The habitual prefix carries the Imperfect Aspect H instead of the Subject Prefix. In Neta this Habitual form is rarely used. It occurs in some petrified expressions, like in the idiomatic start of animal stories as indicated by Abati (2003):

Ya-bio b-isí m-nganá nanjnj b n ngma ba-chw-íso -gn. PF.CL-be CL-time CL-one chameleon them ADD monkey PF-open-CAUS CL-circumcision Once upon a time Chameleon and Monkey became blood brothers.

Ba-t-knda-na akisba, n ba-t-ka tá -kym m-nganá. IPF.3PL-HABPAST-love-REC terribly and IPF-HABPAST-do just CL-thing CL-one They used to love each other terribly. And they tended to always undertake the same things.

The use of the Perfect Habitual is valued in storytelling for its sophisticated rhetoric effect creating suspense from the very start of a story. It activates the audience with its implicit suggestion that the introduced friendship was discontinued at some time. In most Neta dialects this particular Habitual, which is formed with the Imperfect, seems to be replaced by the Perfect Historic Past.

3.5.2.9 Syntactic and Lexical Future

The Imperfect Aspect can also be used to form syntactic Futures with –bh- (Asangama 1983:317). This syntactic Future is almost as rare as the Imperfect Habitual of the Past. Consider for example:

Na-bh-kpata-ka súo m-oí ng-a-sm k n -kym ng-y-nn. IPF.1SG-FUT-follow-REP FUT CL-wife DET-CL- mine too ADD CL-thing DET-REL-ANAPH 12. I will indeed go collect my wife with (the help of) that particular material !

Lexical future tenses occur more frequently than syntactic futures. They are formed with the adverbial clitics displayed in table 3.29 B. For the sake of completeness I repeat tabe 3.29 A as well:

107 Table 3.29 A: Budu lexical tense differentiation for the Past

V jn V accomplished in a remote past Remote or Distant Past V-png / pn V accomplished a few hours ago Present Progressive or decided at the moment of speaking V–p V accomplished between yesterday and longer ago Past V-png V accomplished some time ago or even weeks ago Recent Past

V + png Action (V) accomplished lately (considerably variation) ‘lately’

Table 3.29 B: Budu lexical tense differentiation for the Future

V-súo, V to be accomplished later Direct future V–sínaní V to be accomplished some time Remote future

3.5.2.10 Summary of the main TAM Distinctions

Table 3.30 summarises the most frequently used TAM distinctions in the Neta dialect of Budu. Various tense differentiations can be formed with Perfect narrative-past forms (see section 3.5.2.2.3), while lexical future tense is formed with Imperfect forms (for the adverbial clitics that differentiate the forms see table 3.29). In section 3.5.2.3 it has been discussed that the present progressive is formed with historic-present Perfect forms. This contrast to lexical past tenses (see the first column of table 3.30 for a comparison). Various differentiations of habitual aspect are formed on basis of Imperfect forms, as discussed in section 3.5.2.7+8. In section 5.2.4 it was discussed that auxiliaries that introduce the infinitive with the progressive prefix –AKÓ- stress the ongoing process of an action as it is accomplished (see the fourth column under progressive). Various modal distinctions are still to be discussed. Only the syntactic consecutive, that is formed with Perfect inflection, has been discussed in section 5.2.2.3 (see the fourth column). This form is not distinguished for mood, it nevertheless continues the TAM distinction of the preceding form. Finally it needs to be added that the division in table 3.30 might suggest that categories are used in a strict sense, while TAM distinctions are used in various combinations. The lexical future, for example, may be used with Perfect forms when the mood is irreal (see the lines 2 and 3 in section 3.5.2.12). Table 3.30 presents the most frequently used inflections:

108 Table 3.30 Three Aspects with their Tone melodies and derived TAM distinctions: (Asterisks refer to additional remarks in the same row)

Verbal Melody Function Derived Tense- Derived Mood Aspect Narrative Past á-reversed Root Narrative Past (Lexical) past differentiation Optatives Tone*-DL setting with various adverbial clitics (subordinate clause Í- Reversed Root Tone*- DL *no reversal if form + time indication) OP L and final Vowel H has OP OP H Negation prefix -k- +(k)m /ti batá ‘not (again) Historic Present ó-(H)*-Verb Root Historic Present in Tone-DL storytelling (main clauses) for *H prefix spreads sequences of quick rightwards actions OP H except with – Consecutive with Consecutive prefix –t- Tonal Consecutive t- prefix final –A/O = Past Consecutive (Final V gets H and remains unaltered) to express follows lexical past continues irreal mood of preceding V action that follows or merely expresses successive time setting The result is still Present progressive with - Progressive observable png (AUX +prefix –AKÓ-)+ infinitive Conditional/ Gerund –eni Negation prefix -k-+-m /ti batá ‘not (again) Imperfect á-Verb Root Tone- ongoing action/ Habitual prefix –ky-/k- Progressive H* process described Or extension -aka (AUX +prefix –AKÓ-)+ infinitive Past Habitual prefix –tí- (rare) *H spreads to the right OP always L Future (Verb root always H) Lexical remote Future V–sínaní Lexical direct Future V-súo Negation prefix -ng (or rarely –mb)+ (k)m +Future prefix –bh- with R

In comment on table 3.30 the observation can be made that three different Perfect inflections are used in narrative development (to build up an episode). Perfect narrative past forms tend to be used in the setting of narrative episodes. The Perfect with A-vowel in its prefix is used in adverbial phrases that describe the temporal setting. Such opening phrase with a Narrative Past is followed by verb phrases that contain Perfect forms with O-vowel and A/O-ending (the tonal consecutive) in the main clause. It expresses that this main action immediately follows the action described in the setting (when she arrived, she discovered that the house was empty). Therefore Asangama (1983:323) calls this syntactic consecutive ‘le consécutif successif,’ since it expresses successive actions.

109 Finally a third kind of Perfect, with O-prefix and O-ending is used to describe series of actions in the flow of the story. This is the historic present Perfect. Although the analysis of narrative development proved highly interesting for several East African languages (Longacre 1990), it was not the focus of this present study.

3.5.2.11 Mood

Table 3.30 indicates that both Optative Mood and Conditionals are based on the Perfect Aspect. Further lexical distinctions of Optatives or Conditionals do not exist, except for the extension – eni that distinguishes conditionals (see section 3.5.2.0). Mood tends to be distinguished by vowel distinctions of the subject prefix. In contrast, the Aspect of negative mood is distinguished by its negation prefixes. The various differentiations of Mood, such as conditional, optative and negative mood are discussed now.

3.5.2.11.1 Conditionals

The next fragment from a pact story: has some examples of conditional constructions (line 2) and of a gerund (line 3):

N-sk-eni sínaní m-oí -s-eni aki a-nd-ab, b, PF.1SG-take-COND ever CL-woman PF.3SG-go-COND there at-place-theirs that 2. If I will ever marry a wife and if she goes to her relatives, and, eh, n-ngw-eni ta kynda ban PF.1SG-travel-GER now travel such 3. Me, making a trip, like

Na-nsa ak-kpata m-oí ínaní a-banya b-sm, (…) IPF.1SG-go PROG-follow CL-woman there at- in.laws CL-mine 4. (when) I will get my wife there at my in laws, (I will never…)

Line 2-4 form the introduction to an oath. The oath itself is only indicated between brackets; in the translation: ‘I will never …’ What the speaker promises is not specified yet in line 2-4. In line 2 the two underlined forms on -eni express the conditions for the promise with ‘conditional forms.’ The conditional form on –eni has a subject prefix (for more examples see Abati 2003:39). In line 3 the same inflection is used to express a simultaneous action (that occurs at the same time as the promised action). The form can be called a ‘gerund.’ In the lines 2 and 3 of the last example, the suffix on –eni was attached to the inflected verb. More frequently the auxiliary of the verb bío ‘to be’ is used (with Perfect inflection) if simultaneous action is expressed. The same form on –eni is often used in combination with existential auxiliaries of the imperfect to express irreal mood (Asangama 1983:364 gives the example: “n musóti nabíó súo nopipeni téa “ At noon tomorrow, I will have finished the work.” If aspect is expressed, imperfect forms of bío ‘to be’ are used in combination with verbs on–eni (conditional verb forms), for example bobío bokwadeni ‘they were asleep already”.

110 Conditional forms can be used with auxiliaries to express modal differences. Unlike infinitival forms, conditional forms are inflected (they have Perfect subject prefixes) and always occur with existential auxiliaries (infinitives can occur with other auxiliaries, see section 3.5.2.4).

3.5.2.11.2 Optative Mood

Verb forms in the optative mood express wishes, desires, plans and other ‘options.’ Optative forms have H tone on their subject prefix. This subject prefix has a special optative I vowel. Its vowel quality adjusts to the ATR value of the verb root. Verb roots with –ATR quality get and Verb Roots with ATR quality get í. Consider the lines 44 and 45:

A-sugo b, í-gíso nama an i-ju b dh -pwa ínaní PF-3SG-say that 3SG.OPT-throw animal in CL-forest that MOD CL.OPT–rot there 44. He considered that, would he be throwing the animal in the forest for it to rot there,

y-ang m idó k ban. IPF.3SG.be-NEG not good indeed so 45. that would not be good either.

In the first optative verb form, optative mood can be recognised by its H subject prefix with i - vowel; in the second by the H and the -vowel. The quality of the vowel depends on the verb root, as the difference between the underlined forms in line 44 of last example illustrates.62 Use of optative mood is characteristic for indirect speech. For more details see appendix 4.A.

3.5.2.11.3 Negative Mood

Apart from combinations of irreal mood and lexical future tense, like in the examples under 3.5.2.11, mood distinctions are not dependent on Tense and Aspect. The exception is Negative Mood. Negation markers distinguish Perfect and Imperfect Aspect. Consider the next saying, where a negated Imperfect form is followed by a negated Perfect form:

Mw-aná ng-a a-ng-wólo-ko km jn ak bhasa CL -child DET-CL IPF.3SG-NEGIPF-sit-REP not PAST in bhasa 8. Someone who never used to sit in the ‘bhasa’ meeting place as a child.

a-k-mba km y -kym; PF.3SG-NEGPERFECT-know not him CL-anything 9. He has not been taught anything.

62The tonal pattern of the Optative is similar to that of the Perfect Narrative, except its forms with OP. Forms with Object Prefixes block reversal of the root tone. Whereas Perfect Narrative forms with OP have no reversal of the root tone and a H realised on their OP, the OP of Optatives remains DL while the final vowel gets H. Optative forms without OP have L final vowel. For the negation of the Imperative, Optative forms of the second person are often used, although other persons can be used as well. Furthermore an inversion of Root tone is blocked in negated forms of Optative mood.

111 Line 8 has a negated Imperfect, line 9 a negated Perfect. In both forms the prefixes carry DL and negation is marked discontinuously. A negation clitic km is attached to the verb as adverbial morpheme. This clitic, that is identical for Perfect and Imperfect aspect, supports the negation that is expressed in the verbal prefixes. Negated verb forms furthermore can be recognised by their OP’s. Object Prefixes in negated forms are always realised with L, because the negation prefixes provide a TBU, leaving the OP with its DL. Negation is expressed both syntactically, by verbal prefixes, and lexically, by adverbial clitics. All verb negation has the same adverbial clitic, except optatives (see line 17 below and see also table 3.31). While the same adverbial clitic km is used in most verbal negations, various prefixes are used reflecting modal distinctions. A negation prefix to be discussed is the Imperfect negation marker -mb- ‘not yet; never.’ Its use is illustrated in the following proverb:

B-t b-tà-b-ja ba-mb-janga km -ya. CL- tree CL- ADI- CL- big CL- NEGIPF-miss NEG CL-hole 46. No big tree ever lack s a hole.

This proverb is used implying: ‘Nobody is Perfect.’ Like the Past Habitual –ti-, the negation prefix - mb- ‘never’ is used for situations that are never accomplished, with Imperfect Aspect. Although the prefix rarely occurs in present day Neta, it is preserved in anachronistic expressions, especially in the genre of proverbs. A fourth negation prefix is the irreal mood-negation tí- that is followed by the negation adverb km, not to be confused with Past Habitual prefix -tí- which occurs without negation:

A-gbamtaa wa-t-na-sa km, ta-bhi n w ktaa. CL-NAME IPF.2SG-NEG.IRR-me-leave not IPF.1PL-go ADD you too 17. Oh Agbamutaa! Don’t leave me, I will go with you as well.

A fifth negation prefix is used with verb forms in the irreal mood: a-mb a-bundo km He/she/it-NEGIRR to-break NEG He/she/it would not break (it).

The adverbial clitic km ‘not’ is used in most negations. Only Optative mood requires ‘batá’. Table 3.31 provides an overview of different morphemes that can be attached to Subject Prefixes to express negation:

Table 3.31. negation of Budu verbs

Verb-root prefix adverbial clitic: Used With

1 -ng- VERB ROOT +(k)m ‘not’ Imperfect Aspect Conditional 2 -k- VERB ROOT +(k)m ti batá Perfect Aspect ‘not (again)’ 3 -mb- VERB ROOT +(k)m ti Irreal Mood ‘not any more’ 4 -t- VERB ROOT + batá ‘not again’ (Optative; Imperative; Conditional)

112 The morpheme -t- is ambiguous. It may occur as first person plural OP with an –ATR verb roots:

kungúo ‘to ask’ -> ba-ti-kungúo ‘they ask us’ knda ‘to prefer; love; like’ -> a-t-knda ‘ he/she/it loves us’

The prefix in the second line resembles a negation prefix. The optative prefix first pluralt- can be ombined with negation and always has a i/ vowel in its subject prefix. The negation prefix for the optative t- has stable vowel quality, whereas the OP is pronounced in harmony with the verb root.

The prefix in line 1 of table 3.31 is sometimes replaced by –mb-.This archaïc form occurs in petrified genres, such as proverbs and other sayings.

3.5.3 Adverbial Tense, Mood and Aspect Marking

3.5.3.1 Phonologically-Stable Morphemes in the Inflected Verb

Since some morphemes in the inflected verb remain unaltered by vowel harmony rules, they are helpful for the analysis of the verb while facilitating morpheme identification. The negation adverb km ‘not’ represents the most frequently used stable adverb, that can be recognised even if its pronunciation is abbreviated to –m (without k-) or m ‘not.’ This adverbial clitic remains stable if it is attached to the final vowel of a [+ ATR] derived verb, facilitating its identification in all cases. Consider for example:

1. s-a ‘to leave; to stop’ -> wo-si-eni km ‘if you do not leave it’

2. kumoni-o ‘to enter’ -> a-t-na-kumonio-m ‘it should not enter’

3. wólok-o ‘to sit regularly’ -> a-ng–wólo-m ‘he never sat’

4. bokís-o ‘to ask; to make greet’ -> o-ko-mu-bok-íso-m ‘she had not asked him’

5. siók-o ‘to burn entirely’ -> ya-t-sió-k-o-m ‘it should not get burnt’ 6. dyakakís-o ‘to feed’ -> -mb-n-dyak-a-k-íso-m ‘he could never feed’

7. bhéyok-o ‘to belch’ -> a-t-beyoko km ‘he/she/it should not belch’

Verb forms in Line 1 to 7 illustrate that adverbial negation remains the same in verb forms with a different vowel quality, forming an exception to the rule of vowel harmony. The various negation prefixes are underlined, like the adverbial negation (last word in each phrase). Most seem to remain stable. In contrast to the third person OP –MU- in line 4 , most negation prefixes are independent of the vowel quality of the verb. Even the causative extension –íso, which proved to dominate verb forms with its vowel quality, has no effect on the ATR value of the negation. In line 2 the vowel of -t- does not alter under influence of the [+ ATR] quality of the verb root that follows it. The negation prefix -ng- in line 3 remains represents another prefix that remains unchanged, though occurring prior to verb root wólo ‘to sit.’ In contrast, negation prefix -k- in line 4 has a changed vowel quality under influence of –íso (the causative extension of the verb). This prefix is used in negation of the Perfect. The verbal negation prefixes can be divided into stable ones and variable ones, depending on their sensitivity to vowel harmony. Table 3.32 listst all verbal morphemes that are unsusceptible for vowel harmony. They represent the exception on the rule of vowel harmony. This list of stable prefixes begins with the four morphemes from the examples that were discussed in this section:

113 Table 3.32 (ad) verbal morphemes that are not susceptible for vowel harmony

A. Verb-root prefix adverbial clitic used with

-ng-- VERB ROOT +(k)m ‘not’ Imperfect Aspect –mb-- VERB ROOT Conditional

-k- VERB ROOT +(k)m ti batá Perfect Aspect ‘not (again)’ -mb- VERB ROOT +(k)m ti Irreal Mood ‘not any more’ -t-- VERB ROOT + batá ‘not again’ (Optative; Imperative; Conditional) -k- HABITUAL -t- CONSECUTIVE PAST Imperfect

ak- INF (class 15) for Infinite subordinate clauses PROGRESSIVE

Table 3.32 B. Affixes inflected verb: ínaní, ak; iyani - ADVERBIAL LOCATIVE Inflected adverbial clauses ‘there’ or place indication relative clause marker anani/aka – ADVERBIAL MANNER Inflected adverbial clauses ‘then; here; thus’ or time relative clause marker With Perfect Narrative Past /manner indication

Table 3.32 A lists seven verbroot prefixes that are stable with regards to vowel harmony. Negation of the Imperfect aspect is only rarely expressed with the verb root prefix –mb--. Table 3.32 B lists two affixes of the inflected verb in its second column. They are discussed in section 3.5.3.2. Summarising, stable morphemes have in common that none of them is determined by number. All stable prefixes occur after the first syllable of the inflected verb. They thereby cut the verb complex into its subject prefix and the rest, facilitating morpheme identification. The negation clitics ti batá ‘not any more’ and (k)m ‘not’ represent a larger group of various adverbial clitics. Their quantity reflects the tendency for lexical TAM marking.

3.5.3.2 Relative Phrase Markers

Some affixes of the inflected verb refer to an indication of place -; other affixes refer to indications of time or manner –. The affigated verb phrase functions as modification of a place, time or manner. Its status as relative phrase is marked by the discussed affix. Frequently the relative phrase is related to a sentence-initial antecedent with an indication of place, time or manner. This antecedent can be formulated either as adverbial phrase or as temporal connective. Since both affixes mark the relative status of the modifying verb phrase, the glossing indicates RAF for Relative Affixes in case of both. Locative adverbial clauses refer, for example, to an indication of place. Line 58 illustrates a modification of time:

114 Tá aka m-t b-abh a-mu-sigi- a-ka nanaka, Just here.now CL -person CL-ghost NPF.3SG-him–declare-RAFto-do do-RED 58. just at this moment in the story, when the ghost had told him to do it,

Ngbanga tá a-k, b ngbingbii thunder just PF.3SG-cough like IDEOPHONE 59. the thunder (struck ) at it, like BENGG!

Line 58 starts with antecedent tá aka ’just at this moment.’ This indication of time is specified by the relative clause with –, ‘when …’ This affix is attached to a Narrative Past Perfect form. This relative clause is subordinated to the striking of the thunder in line 59, (or its ‘coughing’ in Budu as the glossing indicates). The stable form of relative phrase markers facilitates the recognition of adverbials in the setting of a paragraph.

3.5.3.3 Adverbial Clitics for TAM marking

Grégoire describes the so called Forest Bantu sub-group as ‘exhibiting temporal and aspectual morphemes in their verbal conjugation, that have the status of adverbs which come directly after the verb, sometimes hardly to be distinguished from post final elements to the derived verb’ (2003:366). Budu indeed has numerous modal or tense particles that are attached to the verb-final vowel, such as the modal clitics –s ‘once; first’ (for exhortation) and-p ‘then’ (H) (for insistence). These clitics form one intonation-unit with the verb,63 except for their vowel quality. Most of these adverbial elements are attached to the verb-final vowel. Because they do not exist independently, they can be considered as clitics. In contrast, temporal adverbs can also be used independently, like aka ‘then’; ta ’now;’ títa ‘just now’ (both HL) and the ones introduced in the sections on lexical past and lexical future tense (see table 3.29). In table 3.33 a schema with the various adverbial clitics is presented. For expositional reasons the inflected verb is indicated with a letter ‘V’ for ‘Verb form’:

Table 3.33. Overview of TAM marking with adverbial morphemes:

Inflected Verb+ Described meaning Translation V + aka The speaker/writer emphasizes the moment with non-present tense: ‘then; at which an action (V) is accomplished. with third person: ‘in his/her turn’ with present: ‘here at this place and time’ V + baka The speaker/writer requests the agent with ‘please’ explicit politeness to accomplish an action (V) V + batá V is done again (another time) ‘again; another time; once more’ V + dh The speaker/writer suggest or asks with ‘then, really’ indignance whether Or how an action (V) is/has been

63 Another possibility is that they are attached to independent pronouns or even to bound pronouns: with free pronoun: An-s ak ‘who there in the first place?” (interrogative pronoun) man-s ‘what in the first place?’ (interrogative pronoun) An-p ya ak? ‘who then is that person there/that was mentioned just now?’ (interrogative pronoun) Following a bound mambn-yng-s ‘Its owner in the first place’ (logphoric pronoun) pronoun : na pp-s ínga-ínga ‘the mother herself in the first place all alone’ (reflective pronoun)

115 accomplished V + g The speaker/writer is politely suggesting that ‘(do it) perhaps then; could (it) by any means the agent accomplishes the action (V). by done? V + p The speaker/writer insists for the agent to ‘(do it) then’ accomplish V V + k (ktaa/ ‘Action (V) is repeated by person as ‘as well; too; also; indeed; as expected’ k after a noun) expected’ (recurrence marker) (+ Noun that ’thing or person included’). V + s ‘The speaker/writer exhorts the agent to ‘first; once (more); in the first place; before accomplish action (V)’ other things happen Negated V + s Counter expected not accomplishing of ‘not at all; not even’ Action (V). Imperative-+s+tá The agent needs to ‘only’ do (V) ‘just needs to (do ); only needs to (do)’ (INFINITIVE) V + -s + OPT ‘Agents request for permission to accomplish ‘please’ Action (V)’ V + ta ‘Action (V accomplished at this very moment ‘now; at that moment; without delay; immediately’ V + tá ‘nothing but completely Action (V)’ ‘just; nothing but; entirely; completely; wholeheartedly’ V + títa (=ta +tá) ‘at the very moment that Action (V) just ‘just now; at that moment just’ happens’ V + ta k ‘as a consequence; after that, Action (V) ‘now also; then; after which; consequently’ happened’ V + ti batá ‘not again/ not another time Action (V) ’ ‘not any more; not again’

Most TAM clitics express combinations of Tense and Aspect, for example batá ‘again.’ Some express a combination of Mood and Aspect, for instance –k ‘indeed; also.’ 64 Modal particles are –s ‘once; first’ for exhortation; -p ‘then’ for insistence; -g ’if then’ for polite suggestions; and -dh ‘how then’ for urgent suggestions or questions. The nature of clitics seems to determine the order in which they are attached to the inflected verb. Expressions of tense or aspect tend to occur in the verb phrase before modal clitics.65 In other words, modal clitics tend to follow temporal clitics, for instance with temporal aka ‘now:’

1.Tsa-aka-s! ‘let us go now at once’ 2.Tk-bata-s! ‘let us come again’

If more than one modal particle is combined, the most frequent tends to be the last. Consider for example the combination with the politeness marker baka ‘please:’

3. -ká-baka-s! ‘please let him/her/it come’

Also verb phrases with multiple clitics have the most frequent at the end. The least-frequent clitic tends to be attached to the verb-final vowel. With insistence marker –g, for instance:

64 Consecutive verb forms with –s ‘firstly; before other things happened’ seem to combine Tense and Mood. Actions that are indicated with the affigated first Perfect in a series are situated before the Perfect Historic consecutives that are following it. In the first Perfect the clitic obviously expresses, in reference to the past, no exhortation. In contrast to this exceptional use of the form, most cases express exhortation rather than a temporal ordering of the indicated action, cf. footnote 58. 65 with exception of títa ‘immediately’ that occurs as the last element in the verbal phrase before the Object. Ní-kio-s títa ‘let me now immediately cut (OBJECT)’ Ná-na-ka-p títa ‘then I will just immediately do something (OBJECT/ INFINITIVE) for you’ In both lines the insistance expressed by a particle that is following the verb where it can be stressed.

116 4. Nsa-g-png-s? ‘could I first leave now’

In line 4 the verb sa ‘go’ is expressed in Optative form while its tense is supported with lexical-present particle png. This temporal adverb is expressed in between two modal clitics. Compare line 4 to the sequence of morphemes in line 5:

5. Najo-dh-bata-s? ‘do I then (likewise) really descend once more?’

In line 5 temporal particle batá ‘again’ is used in between two modal particles. The lines 1 to 5 had modal clitics with irreal mood or Imperfect Future to express exhortation and insistence. Consider also the lines 6-9, in which modal clitics are used with Perfect forms and with Gerund constructions:

6. bpng-s ‘they first started (with + INFINITIVE) 7. bonafeni-s m ‘they were first catching (+ OBJECT) for me’ 8. ndya-s ‘I first ate’ 9. páa-s ‘he forgot in the first place (+OBJECT/INFINITIVE)’

The lines 6 and 9 suggest that verbal phrases with auxiliaries have modal clitics attached to the auxiliary verb and not to the infinitival form that follows it. This is also illustrated in the lines 10-12:

10. nang-s ansa ‘I am not even planning to go’

11. nábhi bata-s tá akio ‘I will be just doing this again in the first place’ 12. nána-p sa ‘I then will see that I will cook‘

Line 10-12 have underlined infinitives. Unlike other verbal phrases, the last element in these phrases is not used to attach adverbial clitics. The modal clitics are attached to the auxiliary. There are expressions where there seems to be some confusion about the status of the auxiliary, for instance in line 13:

13. Wáknda angwa-p w kynda ‘you prefer then to travel in person?’ In line 13 the underlined form is a motion verb. The last word of the sentence is a Bantu root for travelling. In Budu the root can be used for infinitives and nouns alike. The underlined motion verb can be preceded by personal verbs (of liking, thinking, loving etc), as in this example. The modal clitic is not attached to this auxiliary, but to the motion verb, as if the last word were an infinitive in line 13.66 Finally lines 14 to 16 provide examples were modal particles are combined with the interrogative particle n ‘what?’ The interrogative is always the last word in such phrases:

14. Wa-sugo-dh-s-tá-n? ‘What will you say then (like this) as reaction (first)?’ 15. Ya-p-tá-ni? ‘What then is that?’ 16. Ya-p-s-tá-n? ‘What then is that in the first place?’

66A similar tendency for lexical modification of a verb root seems to be represented in the idiomatic expression t$gb$a bhang$ ‘to run escape’ or ‘to run in flight,’ which developed into a lexical phrase indicating the speed of running (to quickly run’ rather than the character of escaping). The verb t$gb$a ‘run’ may also have developed as motion verb that can get its own auxiliaries.

117 3.6 Conclusion about Budu Elements of Language Use

Budu tends to express TAM lexically rather than with inflection. Verbal negation is exceptional, because its inflection differentiates Imperfect and Perfect aspect (see table 3.30). Nevertheless this differentiation is often obscured. Negation prefixes that distinguish Irreal Mood and Perfect Aspect are often replaced by negation prefixes of the Imperfect. TAM distinctions that are expressed by derivation rather than inflection are the habitual that is made with the repetitive extension and the conditional that is expressed by the extension on –eni. Lexical indications of mood and aspect are frequent. Adverbial clitics are used to express Tense, Mood and Aspect. This lexical TAM expression characterises Budu as Forest- or Border Bantu (Grégoire 2003:366). Budu also can be considered a typical Forest Bantu language because of its limited nominal classification (Nurse and Phillipson 2003:177). It has, for example, prepositions instead of a locative noun class (see section 3.4.6.2). The limited nature of Budu nominal classification is nonewithstanding the fact that noun phrases have agreement markers while verbal phrases mark agreement by optional Object Prefixes. Budu’s syntactic characteristics as Forest Bantu language are combined with phonological and lexical influence from the bordering language families. Similar to Mangbetu (Nilo-Saharan) and Mayogo (and Ubangi) some Bantu-D languages including Budu have vowel harmony with non-advanced Tongue Root quality as dominating feature. Advanced Tongue Root [+ATR] is a technical term from acoustic phonology used to describe a phonological feature of vowel quality. Vowel harmony occurs throughout the phonological word with [- ATR] as the dominant vowel quality that spreads from the root. This vowel quality separates the morphemes of the language into a group with ‘bright’ acoustics [ +ATR] and one with the opposite [-ATR]. The [–ATR] vowels are represented with special characters in the orthography. Although the dominant vowel quality may spread from roots to affixes throughout the phonological word, neither the morpheme boundaries in compound words nor the morpheme boundaries in most verb phrases with clitics are susceptible to the spreading of this vowel quality (see table 3.32). Other exceptions to vowel harmony occur when the vowel A blocks the spreading of [-ATR]. The vowel A is neutral with regard to the [ATR] distinction and blocks the leftward spreading of vowel harmony in Budu. This neutral vowel occurs in ak- infinitival prefixes, in some Object Prefixes and in reciprocal verb extensions. Since verbs usually combine several extensions of verbal derivation, the chance that a prefix with A blocks vowel harmony is considerable. Similar to most Bantu languages, Budu is a synthetic language with complex distinctions of Tense, Mood and Aspect. Tonal variations between the dialects obscure subtle the tonal distinctions used in narrative development, such as the contrast between the historic present and the narrative past. However, adverbial TAM marking reduces the synthetic nature of the verb complex and provides extra information that facilitates that tagging of texts into linguistic units. In chapter 4 some problems with the analysis of texts into linguistic units will be discussed.

118 Appendix 3.A Phonological Chart and Orthographic Conventions

Although Budu vowels have been discussed at length in this chapter, no overview of Budu consonants was provided yet. This appendix contains a phonological chart (cf. Asangama 1983:83; Kutsch Lojenga 1994:128; Abati 2003:5,6) and explains the orthographic conventions used in the data representation throughout this dissertation. Like most Bantu languages, Budu exhibits (C)VCV syllable structure, therefore all digraphs and trigraphs in the data (kp, ngb etc.) denote syllable-initial, single phonemes. The consonants of Budu are represented in table 3.34. The columns each represent a point of articulation and the rows each a manner of articulation. If there are two rows with the same manner of articulation, for example plosive, the first row has voiced voiceless consonants and the second voiced:

Table 3.34A phonological chart of Budu consonants labial labio- alveo- post- pala- palatised velar labio-velar dental lar alveolar tal plosive p t ch ky k kp bh dh j gy g gb implosive b d (d) dy sonorant m n ny fricative f s h v prenasal mb mv nd nj ngy ng ngb semi-vowel w 1 y

Table 3.34B phonological chart of Budu consonants denoted in phonetic symbols (? = flap) labial labio- alveolar post- palatal palatised velar labio-velar dental alveolar plosive O S i B J q h C I o F l implosive A K Z>c0\ t sonorant L M ã fricative E R h U M prenasal u x C à Ö ~ Ç semi-vowel V 0 X

119

Table 3.34C phonological chart of Budu vowels

[+ High] iu [+ ATR] [+ High] [- ATR] [- High] [-Low] eo [+ ATR] [- High] [-Low] [- ATR] [+ Low] a [- ATR] transparent

All Budu data are presented in the official orthography that was established in 1996 except for tone marking (only minimal pairs were marked with à for L and á for H or R). Some remarks regarding the phonology are included in this apppendix to explain the representation of the data in this thesis. The name 'Budu' is used by the language group for auto reference. It provides a good example of two important orthographic conventions that will be explained now. The transliteration of the name baBdh exhibits two special conventions. The first is that some digraphs denote single phonemes(e.g. chart 3.34 A). The second is, that some vowels are printed with stroked-through characters (e.g. chart 3.34 C). Table 3.34 has a separtate row for implosive consonants, including an allophone between brackets. The allophonic nature of the liquid lateral l is denoted with a tilde sign in table 3.34 B. The flapped alveolar lateral itself is denoted here with an interrogation mark. Comments on this allophone are supplied in the very end of this appendix. The first two ‘b’s’ in baBdh ‘Budu’ are implosive. The digrahp ‘dh ‘ denotes the voiced alveolair plosive. The plosives bh and dh occur less frequently than implosive b and d. Implosives are pronounced by a slight lowering of the glottis, producing a vacuum in the bucal cavity that is released with an acoustic ‘implosion.’ The ‘b’ in baBdh is the implosive counterpart of the labial voiced plosive ‘bh’, which is written as digraph similar to ‘dh’. Some examples are:

implosive b plosive bh úbú 'debt' ubhú 'curse' báa 'tilapia' bhaá 'mouse bird' ba 'to announce' bha 'to sweep'

implosive d plosive dh madádá 'tongues (body part) madhadha 'used banana leaves' da 'to mould' dha 'to pound'

Next to the two implosive consonants b and d, a third, palatal implosive ‘dy’ occurs in table 3.34 fifth column. The examples dyaá ’fire; hearth,’ idyo ‘food,’ and mdyk-dyk ‘whisper’ can be given. A fourth digraph, of an entirely different nature is ‘ch.’ In analogy to Swahili ch denotes the palatal voiceless plosive. The voiced counterpart is denoted by a single consonant ‘j’: kch 'clay pot with narrow opening' jaga ‘spear' The second consonant in jaga ‘spear’ is an example of the velar plosive g. A palatalised velar plosive is spelled ‘gy’ like in gyagyá ‘joy’ (see the 6th column of table 3.34B for its phonetic symbol). In the orthography the y in digraphs is used to denote palatalisation, in analogy with the digraph for the palatal sonorant ny in inye ‘his/her mother.’ To return to the comments on the spelling of baBdh, the second convention to be discussed is the stroked-through vowel in baBdh.. The group of vowels printed in special manner denote

120 special vowel quality, referred to as [-ATR] as discussed in section 3.3.7.67 As table 3.34 C shows, two [- ATR] vowels and are printed with stroked-through vowels and two with special symbols, as we saw in kch ’pot,’ for instance. Another example is êmba ‘ripe banana.’ The name of the main dialectal variation of Budu spoken in Ibambi is Nta; transcribed in English as Neta. The [- ATR] variant of the [- High] vowels e and o is not printed with stroked-through letters, but with the letters and ,, like in surrounding languages. Most Budu words are characterised by vowel harmony throughout the word. In other words, this phonological property of the word is determined by its root and dominates the (prefix) vowels (whether they are pronounced with [ +ATR] or [-ATR], as in: muBheu ‘a Mangbetu’ iBheu ‘the language Mangbetu’ Bdh ‘the language Budu’ Falas ’the language French’ iKoya ‘the Koya dialect of Budu’ The prefix i- is used with people-name roots to denote their languages, as in -Falas . The default value for Budu vowels being [- ATR], i- is pronounced - in this word. In table 3.34 C the vowel a is printed in the middle column to show its transparent status with respect to vowel harmony. In the last line iKoya combines i,,o, and a. The ‘a’ can appear either with [+ATR] or with [– ATR] vowels. Consequently the central vowel (a) can be considered neutral with respect to the influence of ATR quality from surrounding syllables. The a itself can only be pronounced in one single way, while all other vowels are either pronounced [+ATR] or [-ATR]. Concerning tone orthography, the orthography used for this dissertation deviates from the official Budu orthography. Budu has High (H) and Low (L) tone. H is realised as rising surface tone (R) if it follows a depressor consonant. Sometimes an ‘h’ in the consonantal onset has replaced a lost depressor consonant, which effect can be still observed. The inflected form of the verb bnda ’to beat’ in 2 SG is spelled wa-bnda. This could be read as ‘you will beat’ or as ’you have beaten.’ Budu orthography distinguishes the Perfect tone melody with an inserted colon between the verb’s first and second syllable as in wa:bnda ‘you have beaten’) [R-L-L]. The melody of the entire verb form is indicated by this colon. In contrast Imperfect aspect is distinguished by an equation mark. Again the melody of the entire verb form is indicated after the first syllable of the verb form with one mark wa=bnda ‘you will beat’ [r-H-H]. The equation mark is used to distinguish the Imperfect, the colon to indicate the Perfect. Its occurrence immediately after the first vowel is conventional and has nothing to do with the tone of this first syllable. In this dissertation punctuation marks are not used since the glosses indicate whether a form is distinguished for either Perfect or Imperfect aspect. The tonal distinctions in the four different Neta dialects represented in the researched corpus were considered irrelevant to the object of study.68 In Budu orthography the punctuation marks distinguish verbal tone patterns in combination with diacritic tone marks on the subject prefix. Without acute accent for H, the following two forms would be ambiguous:

67Vowel harmony is discussed in section 3.3.7 with reference to Kutsch Lojenga (1994) and Koehler (1995). 68One advantage of using punctuation marks for verbal tone is that inflected verb forms can be pronounced with dialectal differences. In September 1995 representatives of all the different Neta chiefdoms in September 1995 were so kind to go through verb paradigms with Fred Frieke and myself. We observed that each chiefdom had its own dialectal surface patterns of tonal TAM patterns. An investigation of tone patterns led to the conclusion that tone in all dialects is the major distinction between Perfective and Imperfective future, irrespective of the various surface tone pattern realisations that distinguish verbal aspect (Frieke MS 1996). In May 1996 it therefore was decided in consultancy with community leaders representing different segments of Budu society to use punctuation marks by convention. Interpunction marks occur in every inflected verb form in order to avoid ambiguity (see Frieke-Kappers 1986 for a discussion of this convention).

121 naknda ' I like; love; prefer’ náknda ' you (PL) like; love; prefer’ In Budu orthography, diacritic marks are also used for distinguishing minimal pairs, such as gbôgbö ‘bamboo rack' and gbgbô ’elephant ear’ (plant). In examples, used in this book, only root tones are marked with diacritic marks and plural subject prefixes are merely indicated in the glosses. Although verbal tones were indicated with diacritic signs in table 3.27 and 3.29, diacritics are omitted in the examples. Root tones were indicated throughout the data to disambiguate minimal pairs. The last detail of Budu orthography to be discussed is the flapped lateral that occurs as allophone to the liquid lateral sound l. The post-alveolar flap ? is made by a brief flap to either the alveolar ridge or the palate while the tongue tip is retracted in the direction of the post-alveolar regions. The particularity of this flapped sound is, that during this gesture, one side of the tongue remains low so that air can flow continuously through a lateral escape channel, resulting in something that sounds like [r] and [l] alike. This is a characteristic that has been observed for flapped laterals in general by Ladefodged and Madieson (1996:243). The Flemish pronunciation of the French /r/ seems to be interpreted by Budu speakers as such a flapped lateral. French ‘r’s are pronounced as liquid when occurring intervocalic or in a prefix. This pronunciation seems to be reinforced by analogy with Lingala li- prefixes that exhibit liquid laterals as well. In contrast to the Budu flapped lateral [l] that is root-initially pronounced as flap [?] with ingressive lung air, the Lingala liquid lateral is always pronounced as a liquid lateral [ l]. Since Budu speakers were exposed to written languages that use consonant l’ in their orthography, the orthography of Budu denotes its post-alveolar flap with an l’ when it occurs in intervocalic position. This is intended to avoid confusion for readers with literacy skills in French, Lingala or Swahili. In contrast, flapped laterals in morpheme initial position are not represented by the letter ‘l’, again to avoid confusion for beginning Budu readers with literacy skills in other languages. (Asangama (1983:65) attributes the variety in phonetic realisations of the d with ingressive air to the influence of Swahili.) Root-initial implosive alveolars are represented with the letter denoting implosive d. This is how Budu speakers chose to represent it (e.g. Asangama’s example daya as Budu pronunciation of the Swahili U-laya ‘Europe’ with a flapped lateral [?] following the prefix u-). Although the spelling of flapped laterals [?] as d represents an underrepresentation in the Budu orthography, it seems to be the least confusing option as far as Budu speakers are concerned. Indeed the phonemic principle is violated in root-initial position, where the flapped alveolar is denoted with the same symbol as the alveolar implosive ‘d’ in Budu orthography.69 However, to the speakers of the language this is less confusing than using the consonant l in root initial position where it needs to be pronounced as implosive in Budu. 70 Since Budu speakers are used to the lateral pronunciation of this sound in the writings of other languages, liquid laterals are spelled with ‘l’ in Budu. Only liquid lateral pronunciation is denoted by the letter ‘l’ in analogy to languages with a longer literate tradition to which Budu speakers are exposed. All other occurrences of the flapped alveolar ? are denoted with d.

69The flapped alveolar ? is pronounced with ingressive air in post-alveolar articulation while the implosive alveolar is not flapped. Also their distribution differs. Whereas the ‘d’ occurs intervocalically, the ? is always pronounced as flapped liquid lateral l in intervocalic position. Compare for example: idodoi ‘palatum’ with ïnjökölï ‘inside of an eyelid.’ 70In the trial orthography of 1991, the denotation of implosive ‘d’ with the symbol ‘l’ was perceived to be confusing. The similarity of palatalised implosive /d/’s and the flapped lateral can be observed in petrified numeral-prefixes dyeé- as in limbika l idyo dyétu ‘the third food type’ or in l-ngb dyé-píni ‘two boats.’ Asangama interprets the palatalised implosive dy as phonetic effect of either a preceding or a following vowel I as in idyo ‘food’ and in nîdya ’to eat,’ which he spells as di+a ’to eat’ (Asangama 1983:66).

122 Chapter 4. Relations between Genre and Use of Linguistic Forms

“Linguistic descriptions have the potential to show how creative language works, but can do so only relatively, that is, relative to the values, beliefs and judgements formed within and according to the needs of different social groups, communities and cultural systems.” (Carter 2004:82)

4.0 Introduction

In this chapter, the relation between the two main variables in this corpus research is considered. One variable consists of Budu genres of language use, the other of its morpho-syntactic categories. For expository reasons the latter is called ‘forms’ in this chapter. The term ‘genres,’ is used for situational variations of language use, which are recognised by mature speakers of Budu.1 Patterns of language use can be deduced from observed frequencies of forms per genre, as will be explained in later chapters. This chapter discusses the methodology that was used to establish correlations between forms and genres; results are presented in chapter 5 and 6. The discussion consists of three parts. The first explains the labelling of various genres, the second considers codes for tagging linguistic elements in the entire corpus, and the third part introduces the tool that was used to determine the relation between the two variables.

4.1 Genre Labels and their Main Groupings

The researched corpus consists of 417 texts representing 16 main genres. Between 1991 and 1998 most texts were genre labelled by Budu speakers. These speakers had been assigned to do language work upon instigation of the Budu language Committee (Procès Verbal of the Conseil Administratif 1987), consisting of representatives of Budu speaking chiefdoms and dialects, of the churches and of schools, plus hospital- and government representatives.2 This genre labelling was part of a routine that was used for transcribing a corpus of texts that had been recorded and collected from 1987 onwards in

1See chapter 1 footnote 11 for more genre definitions. 2The so called ‘Budu Language Committee’ consists of representatives from various groups of Budu speakers, whether church affiliated or not. In origin however, it is a church sponsored committee that is organised similar to other committee’s that are organised in the area where the government-installed umbrella organisation CECCA-16 operates as coordinator of the Protestant denominations in the Province. As from 1969 the church council with its nine members held triennial meetings. However, since input of villagers was required in decisions regarding various social issues, various sub-committees were installed during the last decades. On several committees also concerned non-affiliated Budu speakers take seat, for instance members of the Roman Catholic Church, political leaders and directors of training institutes and schools. As from 1987 one of the sub- committees concerns the development of the Budu language as written medium. This committee therefore has several representatives from schools in the area and even one from Kisangani University to develop language policies in the face of an absence of a national language policy.

123 Ibambi. Recorded texts on cassette tapes were used to determine the genre of texts, their speaker, the date, the location and the dialect concerned. Not more than one main genre was indicated per text. Because this information was indicated for each text during the process of transcribing the recorded meetings, the following genre names can be listed:

Table 4.1A genres in the researched corpus A. storytelling ngaka migenú 1. animal friends ‘stories concerning circumcision partners’ migenú banama bayóo 2. pact story ‘stories on laws’ migenú pan 3. parable ‘examples’ and other speech from the pulpit isesenio 4. ghost story ‘stories concerning ancestors’ migenú babh 5. trickster story ‘stories concerning ‘Sodu’ (the mole cricket) migenú Sdh

B. news; information masa 6. life story/ Christian testimony ‘a word about the life of…’ yáka y’ ubéí/ nekpabi 7a. cultural information ‘the time of the forefathers’ angbíngá y bakúku 7b. genealogical/ etymological information ‘roots’ litindíndi 8a. medical information ‘a word to make (people) prevent illness’ yáka akhimbíso kws 8b. other written information or literacy lessons ‘yáka ako pananaka’ (a word to explain’)

C. wisdom nmbmbánaka 9. riddles (‘launching a story as challenge’) nndaka yáka/ including short stories mudugenú 10. proverbs ‘wisdom’ nmbmbánaka 11. drama pièce de theatre

D. instructions pananaka 12a. work orders/ cooking/ travel instructions (‘show work/cooking) pananaka ta/ sa/ kynda 12b. moral instruction; ‘parental advice’ mapan yáka y’inye/ s

E. songs ‘dances accompanied by songs’ mamb 13. church songs mamb w kanisa 14. party songs mamb w támba (including ibhisógu ‘songs of dance/bride wealth’ and palm wine songs mamb w makyp) 15. circumcision songs mamb w gn 16. individual songs (mourning songs mamb w dhídhíma and lullabies ágelé; (ba)nèndíké

Genres that are embedded in the main genre of a text are presented in table 4.1B, because the narrative genres under group A all contain more than 20% reported speech. In order to investigate language use in embedded speech fragments, all fragments with reported speech were analysed per genre in a separate corpus. The reported-speech categories that recur as embedded genres in the sixteen main genres of table 4.1A are listed in table 4.1B:

124 Table 4.1B genres in the separate mini-corpus of embedded genres: (Budu names as used by Budu speakers in discussing texts)

F. reported speech genres: a. reproaches mnyà b. requests nta c. urgings (warning) nta d. thoughts litungúo e. decree/ orders (of chief for example) pan f. guarantees agma g. disagreements/ debate pásí h. agreements nkn i. work orders pananaka ta/ sa/ kynda j. riddles mudugenú k. genealogy litindíndi

E’. embedded songs mamb l. story songs by the protagonist mamb w mugenú m. mocking songs by the antagonist mamb w mugenú n. poetry poems and other individual sayings of wisdom

Correlations between form and genre are based on language use observed in the sixteen main genres listed in table 4.1A. References to embedded genres, that were listed in table 4.1B, with will be made in chapter 6. In that chapter conclusions about conventional language use, made in chapter 5, will be refined. Although table 4.1B is, for the sake of completeness, presented here, most remarks in this chapter concern table 4.1A. The listed genre categories in Table 4.1A can be divided in six groupings. The names of the main groupings with the letters A –E indicate the purpose of communication: storytelling, information sharing, challenging others with wisdom, instructing, and singing. Budu names are indicated next to the translated names. Throughout this book all genre names are printed in italics to facilitate reading. In contrast, Budu names of main genres tend to indicate topics of texts. Genre names, which translation is free in relation to the Budu, are followed by glosses that clarify such differences. The first listed genre, for instance, has the word bayóo ‘friends’. This word literally refers to ‘circumcision partners.’ Since animal stories consistently start with reference to a circumcision pact that binds some animal friends together in a life long friendship, the glossing includes this cultural information to inform non-Budu speakers. The first grouping of genres, with the letter A in Table 4.1A, is often referred to by the name: migenú ‘stories.’ Story genres are only specified when the need arises to clarify a genre reference. In most situations the choice of genre follows from the occasion. Ghost stories, for instance, are told during mourning, animal stories entertain children in the evening.3 Parables represent a, relatively new, subgenre of pact stories. The name of this genre derives from its moral end with the word isesenio ‘example,’ used in allegoric manner. Parables represent the only main category without unanimous labelling. Parables are often used by preachers and therefore the language use of parables was, for the purpose of this research, categorised as language use ‘from the pulpit.’ The moral end of parables tends to exhibit formulations, similar to liturgical

3Trickster stories are narrated during meetings around the fire with visitors and pact stories contain short humorous exchanges between peers around the house, functioning as a cultural outlet in situations where various rules, promises, agreements, decrees and laws are the issue. In the closely knitted community networks in Budu villages, adolescents used to ‘collect’ stories to pass them on to their peers.

125 blessings in church or to standardised prayers. Since parables always have this word isesenio in their end, they could be easily recognised. The word mamb ‘songs’ in fact represent an entire event in which singing takes place, e.g. church services kanisa; dancing támba; marriage ibhisógu; circumcision gn; palm wine (makyp) drinking or traditional mourning dhídhíma. Most texts representative of the genres listed above were collected by the Budu language committee (see footnote 2) in an attempt to record stories that were only heard rarely in urbanised centres. In addition texts that were published in the Budu project were included. News or information includes a growing number of subgenres. Medical information consists of primary health-care instructions including nutritional values and hygiene. This genre is called ‘news’ since it presents insights to keep a family healthy during urbanisation with its changed circumstances. Medical ‘news’ for example includes hygienic housekeeping methods for town household, where many people share the same water source. It explains procedures to prepare nutritious and balanced food with products from a depleted soil that typically exists in more permanent settlements. These genres contain specific ‘news.’ In community life the term masa ‘news’ is also used to refer for example to family news or village gossip. In the corpus only the main information-sharing genres are represented; no gossip was included. The category of ‘wisdom genres’ contains genres that are performed by specialists. Proverbs and riddles require special verbal skills, whereas drama and poems represent acculturated genres that are labelled in the language of acculturation. Despite the differences in skills that are required using of these four genres, they were all four grouped in the category of ‘wisdom genres.’ These genres are used to reflect on observations about community life. They have in common that they tend to stir reflection by a skilful use of language rather than by explicit comments. Drama is relatively new in Budu, although Budu speakers that travel to Lingalophone town Isiro, at ca. 75 kilometres distance from Ibambi, are familiar with audiovisual plays in Lingala, for sale at the market, and with stage performances in that language of wider communication. Based on two criteria of the required verbal skills and of the function of language, genres were grouped as ‘wisdom genres,’ although in fact only proverbs are called ‘wisdom’ in Budu. Unfortunately only five poems (1998) are represented in the corpus, therefore no general conclusions regarding this genre could be drawn. Poems were categorised in a remnant category, together with some quoted proverbs and riddles. The group of instructive genres also includes some acculturated genres, namely Budu literacy lessons and medical information. Older Budu genres are used for work orders, cooking instructions and travel instructions. The verb that refers to instructive genres is pananaka, meaning ‘to teach, to show intensively and/or repetitiously.’ The name implies a demonstration of practices involved in most procedural genres. Since these instructive genres pananaka are illustrated with demonstrations, they differ from the theoretical expositions in masa ‘information’ genres. The largest part of the corpus, namely all storytelling, information- and wisdom genres taken together, consists of autonomous texts. These texts can be used independently, without elaborate verbal introduction. In contrast, the last two groupings consist of texts that depend on the situation in which they occur. Some occur during special dancing events, like a drinking party, a circumcision celebration or a neighbourhood mourning session. The three corresponding song-types have, despite their typical framing by cultural events, been recorded and labelled as autonomous texts during somewhat artificial performances. This also is the case with texts representing moral advices and work orders. Performances of the use of instructive texts arose as a playful activity during informal ‘language committee’ gatherings in June and August 1992, after representatives from the entire Budu speaking area had been gathered for more official meetings. Documenting of language use happened during leisure hours as a cassette-recorder was available. Circumcision songs represent a culturally-important type of language use that, although only represented with less than ten samples in the researched corpus, nevertheless was included for its

126 highly predictable and representative language use.4 For more information on genres and their characteristic cultural and linguistic features see section 7.3.2. In contrast to party songs, story songs are typically used as a musical interlude during storytelling sessions. They were therefore labelled as an integrated part of the narrative genre in which they occur. However, Budu transcribers of the stories consistently indicated the transition from storytelling to musical interludes. The indication mb ‘song’ in the transcription reflects that the use of melody that marks transition is clearly distinguishable. For the corpus research this labelling implied that language use in embedded story songs is considered as minor part of the narrative genre. The language in story songs could therefore not be compared to narrative language use. 5 This brings the embedded genres to attention, which were listed in table 4.1B. Story songs and other embedded genres present speech of discourse participants as fragments that are ‘reported’ by the narrator. While most story songs present words of the protagonist, mocking songs usually present the language of the antagonist. Most reported speech in the researched corpus occurs in the form of series of monologues, with exception of some dialogues between discourse participants. In section 6.4 some text excerpts with reported speech will be given. The text excerpt in section 7.2.1.6 illustrates that reported speech is frequently used by narrators as a means to portray the discourse participants (see also appendix 5B). Since all differences between portrayed characters are acted out by one story teller, the language requires maximum distinctions of speech. Furthermore, such performance is separated from the storyline by its speech introducers, speech verbs and eventually by stance markers (modal particles). Linguistic markers therefore form framing devices that exist next to the use of melody, rhythm and verbatim repetition. Next to the separate nature of reported-speech fragments, three additional reasons can be given for the separate analysis of embedded speech genres here: their idiosyncratic characteristics, their genre labelling in correspondence with independent genres and interdiscursive similarities. First, particular characteristics of reported-speech genres make them distinct in textual structure. During text discussions only the embedded genre of requests was not always recognised as separate category. In contrast to most other genres, which were immediately recognised as a particular genre of speech, requests were labelled in general as nta ‘asking,’ similar to fragments with warnings. Second, in a preliminary study of thirty texts, a team of Budu speakers with whom I discussed the texts referred to the reported-speech genres with names that correspond to similar speech genres that occur in daily life. These speech genres apparently occur as autonomous texts in the community, and are referred to with the same names as reported genres in previous list. Embedded genres that occur in the form of independent texts in the main corpus are work orders; moral advice; and also cultural documentation and individual songs. Other embedded genres seem to represent private affairs. This prevented their recording in the public meetings that were described above. Since, in some natural genres, the addressees tend to be embarrassed by the presence of third parties while the language is used, no representations of these genres are included in the corpus. In Budu culture reproaches mnyà tend to be made in private. They can only be expressed by the socially more important partner. In private, older family members may take a younger relative6 apart in a face-to-face conversation to

4The circumcision is called gn by the Budu and the Ndaka. It developed into a ritual between lineages. The need for such bonds arose during historical migrations of Ndaka (Budu, Vanuma, Mbo) lineages, through the territory of other ethnic groups. Comments on the cultural relevance of circumcision and on its impact on animal stories, church songs, cultural documentation and of course circumcision songs, will be made in chapter 7 (see sections 7.2.4.4., 7.2.4.7 and 7.2.6.3 and 7.2.6.4). 5To enable comparisons between embedded story songs and autonomous texts with song genres, all embedded genres were researched in a separate so called ‘mini-corpus’ representing all speech genres, as was said in comment on table 4.1B. 6It is considered a disgrace for both parties involved if younger relatives rebuke their senior. A female speaker reproaching a male addressee similarly brings shame to both, since females are considered lower in hierarchy. A married woman who criticises her husband in private is considered a bad spouse, although, in theory, Budu

127 reproach the person. It is a condition that no others are present. Public rebukes are even unthinkable. In conclusion, although the embedded genres do not all occur as independent texts in the researched corpus, corresponding genres exist in the community, be it less public than the recorded genres. Third, interdiscursive similarities escape the attention of the investigator when embedded genres would not be analysed separately, as if they were independent. The similarity between story songs and other song genres can not be described adequately if the language use in story songs is not researched per se. The same argument holds for other embedded genres. The language from the pulpit, for example, can not be compared to decrees by village leaders, if the language use in decrees is no object of study. For an adequate analysis of all language use in the researched corpus, the embedded genres are to be studied separately, as it seems. In table 4.2A all texts represented in the main corpus research are listed. Data considering the size of all 16 genre categories and the number of texts in each genre category are included.

Table 4.2A texts included in the main corpus research with 16 genres

A. storytelling 50 texts; 28, 424 words context of use animal friends 10 texts; 5,697 words house pact story 12 texts; 4,692 words family parable 11 texts; 3,658 words church ghost story 8 texts; 8,497 words mourning trickster story 9 texts; 5,880 words village

B. information sharing 45 texts; 22,137 words life story/ experiences 14 texts; 6,946 words church (informal meetings) culture/ genealogy 16 texts; 11,046 words clan / town medical/ other information 15 texts; 4,145 words town

C. special performance 224 texts; 13,315 words riddles 18 txts; 2,007 words neighbourhood proverbs 196 txts; 1,663 words palavers/ meetings drama 10 txts; 9,645 words town

D. instructions 11 texts; 2,787 words 8 work orders/3 moral 11 texts; 2,787 words home/ field/ forest instruction

E. songs 87 songs; 6,722 words 50 church songs 4,034 words church 15 party songs 862 words party of family or friends/ relatives bride or groom 9 circumcision 878 words party of initiates 13 individual songs 948 words home

Total of texts in the corpus: 417 texts with some 214 one-liners (proverbs and some riddles). The five groups in the overview are labelled A-E following table 4.1A . In the group of storytelling trickster stories and ghost stories are considerably longer than the other genres. In total, all storytelling genres represent 50 texts representing 57% of the corpus. This part of the corpus is represented above the line the table above. Slightly smaller is the group of information sharing genres, represented by 45 texts representing 43% of the corpus. The category of information on culture and genealogy consist of cultural documentation (9 texts) and genealogies (7 texts). These genres are very similar in shape and context speakers with higher education consider reproaches as a valid means to correct marriage partners, Abati, personal communication 2004.

128 of use. Although both are used by older ‘experts’ in cultural matters, genealogies are addressed to young relatives, providing them with information regarding suitable marriage candidates, to avoid courtships with members of the own lineage.7 The category of medical information also includes five texts that were written as literacy lessons, containing general information meant to captivate new readers. Although medical information seems a topic-oriented genre-label, it in fact is the group- teaching that determined the labelling. The group of wisdom texts is small in size but contains twice as many texts as the two first groups together. This is due to the nature of the genres involved. Riddles and Proverbs often consist of one-liners. Some riddles consist of an entire story with puns and challenging questions about the origin of observed facts in nature (e.g. why a chicken should throw its head skywards after drinking). Proverbs are distinct for their salient use in palavers, when experienced members of the community resume elaborate discussions. A new genre-usage arose when proverbs started to be published. The publication of proverbs is used in leisure hours when people of all ages gather to share knowledge of proverbs, reading aloud parts of each proverb while inviting others to join in, finishing the proverb with a correct quotation. As to the new genre of drama, all texts were performed in 1997 in Ibambi town, in one of the secondary schools near the commercial centre of town by a group of students. The leader of this group wrote the highly varying texts on behalf of the group. The three last groups in last overview are situation bound. In community life the genres occur as part of a cultural event or in a verbal exchange (including more genres) between Budu speakers. Therefore no more than four mourning songs have been included and no more than seven wedding songs. In order to facilitate a comparison between nine lullabies and four mourning songs, all individual songs were combined in one group. Similarly eight drinking songs and seven wedding songs were combined in one group of party songs. It was, for technical reasons not possible to combine embedded mourning songs with independent mourning songs, the samples being too small. The mini-corpus with fragments representing embedded genres was used to establish genre- form correlations for the 14 embedded genres. The data concerning the size of samples and the amount of texts in each genre category are listed in table 4.2B: table 4.2.B mini-corpus of embedded genres:

F. samples of reported speech genres: 224 fragments Context of natural use: 21 reproaches 1,243 words Marriage/ close friendship 22 requests 2,094 words Agricultural Community 17 warnings 535 words Friends or relatives 39 thoughts 1,673 words Individual (Protagonist of a story) 17 decrees 1,199 words Village chief; family head 25 guarantees 925 words Siblings 16 disagreements 1,391 words Community 49 agreements 4,274 words Agricultural partners in work group 18 work orders 917 words ‘Internship’ of younger relative with older 22 riddles 801 words Literacy booklet with compilation of riddles 9 genealogy answers 5,864 words Interview about the lineage

E. embedded songs 47 embedded songs 19 story songs by the protagonist 1,107 words Storytelling sessions 13 mocking songs by the antagonist 751 words Storytelling sessions (including (4 mourning songs) 15 pieces of poetry and individual sayings 819 words Special occasions in town

7Budu lineages are considered as families in which all females are sisters and all men each other’s brothers. Marrying a clan-member is considered a disgrace, referred to as sóní ‘shame’ or bap ‘remorse.’

129 total of 302 texts in the mini-corpus total of 29,783 words

A comparison of the tables 4.2A and 4.2B reveals that the total size of embedded genres is relatively large, which is not surprising considering that Budu storytelling contains more than 20% embedded speech. Furthermore, the genre of genealogies consists of large fragments of embedded speech with only a few interview questions that function as opening. Genealogies were recorded in the form of interviews. Also edited riddles were included in the tagged texts for the mini-corpus. They are not embedded in ongoing discourse in the same way as natural riddles usually are, but their citation occurs on busy compounds where ongoing discussion about the use of these linguistic games provides an embedding. The last line of table 4.2B represents a remnant category. It contains poems and quoted proverbs or other sayings of wisdom that occur embedded in other genres. To give an example a parable recorded on tape 28 has reported in its moral end, where a proverb is quoted: BaBdh basugo b pan wá héíso. ’The Budu used to say that the law protects’. Sayings introduced with this formula were analysed as embedded genre under this remnant category of sayings in the mini- corpus. Some embedded genres tend to be announced in the text of the main genre. For example oaths agma, agreements nkn and decrees pan tend to be announced explicitly. Other genres are introduced by speech verbs describing the nature of the fragment. The verb tungúo ‘think’ is used as introduction to thoughts of the protagonist; the verb nta ‘to ask’ to introduce warnings, while requests, that have a similar opening verb also include polite vocatives in the opening. Other embedded genres are introduced with a conventional opening. Reproaches tend to start with an exclamation of indignation: HUU! ‘what?!’ and disagreements pásí consistently start with the exclamation: HAA! ‘no!’ The distinct opening of these genres facilitated their labelling during group discussions. Since only a limited set of embedded genres tends to be used in reported speech, direct speech fragments exhibit considerable similarities per embedded genre. The analysis of language use could easily miss generalisations if these embedded genres are not compared to each other as separate texts. An analysis that accounts for embedded genres enables such comparison and therefore seems more adequate.

4.2 Tagging Texts of the Researched Corpus

For tagging the corpus, a formal approach to language use, as conventionally determined choice of certain linguistic elements in a particular situation, was maintained. If a form occurs frequently enough to be counted, its occurrence in particular genres can be considered as distinction of a certain variation of language use. The occurrence of a form can be compared to its consistent absence in other genres. Furthermore, a first condition for distinctive forms of language use is that they occur frequently enough to be counted. Not all forms were tagged in this corpus research. A selection had to be made to select those forms that seemed to have the quantitative potential of being ‘markers’ of variation. In this section the selection of linguistic variables, is discussed. The first step in the selection of linguistic variables consisted of a qualitative analysis of about thirty texts representing four main types of communication (narrative, exhortative, instructive and expository). This arbitrary division served in a primary investigation of the distribution of linguistic forms in various types of language use. The second preliminary step was a computer-aided quantitative research with a reduced- corpus. This research helped to determine forms that possibly mark a differentiation of texts. All forms that

130 were included in the tagging during the preliminary phase will be discussed in this section. In the final research several forms were discarded as variables, as will be indicated in the following. Formal distinctions were taken as criterion for tagging the corpus. Distinct forms were coded with different numbers; each form received a separate code. In case of homophones, position was considered as well. If the sentential position made a certain form distinct from homophonic forms in other positions, it was consequently tagged differently. For instance n ‘and’ was coded with a particular number code in sentence initial position; however yet another number code was used for the same n ‘and; with’ in between nouns, sentence position being the only ground for the distinction. So sentence position was considered as one of the formal properties of forms. With inclusion of position as formal feature, only formally distinct morpho-syntactic categories were tagged with a separate number code. All codes were hand-tagged. Differences in the occurrences of forms are not without consequences. The frequency of occurrence of each category determines possible refinements in the coding. Forms that occur frequently could be differentiated for their inflection (e.g. Perfect 3 SG) or derivation (e.g. Habitual 2 PL), whereas forms that only occur rarely were merely coded for the category they represent (remote past verb forms) without further differentiation (of number or person for instance). The frequent occurrence of forms throughout the corpus makes their distribution comparable with other forms. Sometimes a decision was made to include rare forms with other forms in order to investigate their occurrence as morpho-syntactic category. If the labelling is too specific, a rare category risks to be left out of the comparison. In order to ensure sufficient countable material, a category such as ‘remote past’ is therefore deliberately general. It is not as finely differentiated as the Perfect verb. The Perfect has different codes for all person-number distinctions (e.g. the third person singular Perfect) whereas ‘remote past’ forms are tagged alike. Differences in refinement of the tagging are directly related to the relative frequency of occurrence of each form as observed from their distribution. They were not determined à priori. The categories in table 4.3 are distinguished on the basis of differences in their form. Exceptional cases, where other criteria were of influence, will be mentioned in the discussion following table 4.38:

8See for the results of the counting of these forms the correlation matrix in appendix 5.F, where the same numbering of categories is used.

131 Table 4.3 morpho-syntactic categories that were initially tagged in the Budu researched corpus

Pronouns Adverbial morphemes Connectives

01 pronouns 1 SG 39 adverbs (in general) 72 coordination n ‘and’ or pb ‘or’; batá

02 pronouns 2 SG 40 adverbial clitic tá ‘just; nothing but; only’ 73 temporal connective nd/ y

03 pronouns 3 SG 41 adverbial clitic ta ‘now; then’ 74 negative connective skm ‘without’

04 pronouns 1 PL 42 adverbial clitic k (); ktaa ‘indeed; also’ 75 logical con. dh; yákamngana ‘but’

05 pronouns 2 PL 43 negative Adverb ti batá ‘not again’ 76 modal connective ambgb ‘in fact’

06 pronouns 3 PL 44 adhaa ngak ’to the extent that’ 77 graphical aid (numbering, titles, illustr.)

07 quantifying person anaphora 45 adverb batá ‘again’

08 emphatic pronouns 46 temporal adverb tak ‘consequently’ cohesive devices

09 interrogative pronouns 47 temporal adverb títa ‘just then; at that very moment’ 78 adverbial, temporal

Verbal prefixes 48 adverb intro comparison ban ‘like that’ 79 adverbial, locative 10 Object Prefix (OP) Reported speech 80 anaphora, temporal

11 consecutive Tense Prefix t- 49 applicative sigio ‘tell’ 81 anaphora, locative

12 Perfect 1 SG, Verb Root +p 50 infinitive aksigio ‘declaring’ 82 relative clause marker locative –

13 Perfect 2 SG Verb Root +p 51 speech introducer b/ b ‘that’ 83 idem temporal/adverbial –

14 Perfect 3 SG, Verb Root +p 52 petrified speech introducer GA 84 resumptive particle , (sentence initial)

15 Perfect 1 PL Verb Root +p 53 other speech introducing verbs

16 Perfect 2 PL Verb Root +p Mood

17 Perfect 3 PL Verb Root +p 54 optative with Subject Prefix I Attention getting devices

18 remote past with cliticjn 55 subordinate verb forms (simultaneous tense) on: –eni 85 OVS (reversed) order

19 lexical past (perfect +png) 56 PAST PARTIC. on É (intensifier V) 86 interjection HAA ‘no’

20 Imperfect (Present) 1 SG +png 57 imperative –á/ -éni 87 interjection of surprise íbi ngai ;hóó; do

21 Imperfect (Present) 2 SG +png 58 adverbial MITIGATION –p 88 interjection í í/ oyí ‘yes’

22 Imperfect (Present) 3 SG +png 59 adverbial EXHORTATION -s 89 interjection of indignation húú

23 Imperfect (Present) 1 PL +png 60 verb Negation 90 vocative/ayie (exclamation )

24 Imperfect (Present) 2 PL +png 61 modal auxiliary yosisékio ‘it should’ 91 exclamation of despair ínaa we !

25 Imperfect (Present) 3 PL +png Aspect 92 polite vocative or baka ‘please’

26 future (Imperfect) 1 SG 62 auxiliary verb 93 oath vocative baná b‘naá

27 future (Imperfect) 2 SG 63 progressive Infinitive with ak- 94 loanword from French

28 future (Imperfect) 3 SG 64 short (telic) Infinitive with a- 95 loanword from Congo Swahili 29 future (Imperfect) 1 PL 96 loanword from Lingala 30 future (Imperfect) 2 PL Noun Phrase Morphology 97 ideophone 31 future (Imperfect) 3 PL 65 determiner NG- relative pronoun ‘the one that/ that one’ 98 idiomatic expression

32 lexical Future with súo / sínaní 66 determiner with topic shift –m ‘the/ that other one’

33 habitual 1 SG (67 det. with relative affix -/– ‘the x there/ x being’) Tagged per clause-code: 34 habitual 2 SG 68 attributive adjective (class marker) tà- class marker) code switching 35 habitual 3 SG 69 preposition reported speech 36 habitual 1 PL 70 associative marker indirectly reported speech

37 habitual 2 PL 71 additive n ‘with; by; to’ (for emphasis) subordination 38 habitual 3 PL

132

In the following discussion, all morpho-syntactic categories that were tagged for this corpus research are mentioned in reference to table 4.3. Although this discussion grosso modo follows the ordering in previous overview, some remarks require cross references (for the numbers of corresponding categories in table 4.3 see the footnotes).

. 4.2.1 Pronouns9

Each number of personal pronouns, whether dependent or free, was tagged with a separate code. This includes each number occurring in free personal pronouns (me; you), free possessive pronouns (mine; yours), dependent possessive pronouns (my, your) and locative pronouns (at my place; at your place). Every use of pronouns implies a certain emphasis since inflected verbs themselves, by their subject prefixes, distinguish number and person. Pronouns are used for the expression of contrasts. ‘Emphatic pronouns’ may express counter-expectation. Three types of emphatic pronouns were distinguished: ‘reflexive’ pronouns that occur in combination with either nanganá ‘self’ or ínga-ínga ‘self; very own.’ Second, agents in postverbal position, since Budu has SVO order and these pronouns therefore repeat an already mentioned subject. Third, pronouns plus h ‘together with’ in constructions like: ‘you and me, together we went fishing.’ In contrast, pronouns plus n ‘with; by; to’ were not tagged as emphatic pronouns, but as pronouns in combination with additives. The category occurs frequently enough to allow the use of a separate code. Interrogative pronouns were tagged with a single code. This code was used for an ‘who;’ mán ‘what;’ gban ‘where;’ (dh-s) tán ‘why;’ and ban? ‘how’? All anaphora referring to persons were tagged with one single code as ‘person anaphora.’ (see section 3.4.6.5). Most elements in this category represent quantifying morphemes and numerals. With nominal prefixes these quantifying anaphora refer to discourse participants (‘all of them’, ‘the second person’, etc). Also free relative pronouns that occur with an anaphoric extension were tagged as person anaphora (‘they over there’). In contrast, numerals that occur in time adverbials were tagged as temporal adverbial (‘in the seventh month’), based on the distinctive, sentence-initial position of this construction.

4.2.2 Noun Phrase Morphology10

Some remarks about the noun phrase are made now before proceeding with the leftmost column of table 4.3. In the preliminary research, each type of combination with determiners was tagged with a separate code. The result showed that affixed determiners occur too rarely to be differentiated. Another category that of determiners with topic shift, was tagged as determiner (ng-) plus person anaphora. Such constructions consist of a person anaphora with relative pronoun+ -m ‘other one’. In the final tagging the codes that are now listed under 67 were not included, because of their rare occurrence. In contrast to former types, determiners with anaphoric extensions occur very frequently. All determiners were coded with one code while anaphora were coded separately. This enabled the differentiation

9See code 01-09 in Table 4.3. 10See code 65-71 in Table 4.3. Budu nominal classification expresses agreement between a reigning noun and the morphemes that depend on it. Noun prefixes were nevertheless NOT included in the tagging, since, by their occurrence by default in any clause, they are not distinguishing language variations. Gert de Wit suggested that it could, for semantic purposes, be interesting to know the percentage of, for instance, abstract nouns per genre (class 14 nouns). However, since the interest was foremost in formal distinctions in language use, and not in semantic properties of texts or their structure, this distinction was not involved in the tagging.

133 of demonstratives constructed from ‘locative’ anaphora, which are preceded by determiners, resulting in a construction that can be translated with ‘that one there.’ Such distal demonstratives are used for new or reactivated topics. These demonstratives are different from ‘temporal’ anaphoric expressions, which are used to refer to given information and can be translated with ‘this one now.’ Again formal criteria played a major role. Therefore, the code for determiners includes a wide range of constructions. An additional code for ‘subordination’ accounts for the use of determiners in relative clauses (see subordination). In section 3.4.6.2 most prepositions were presented as location noun followed by an associative marker (amatí lisíni ‘middle of the river’b ‘in the river’). Prepositions form associative constructions with the noun they specify. Associative constructions and prepositions frequently occur together. However, not all associate constructions are prepositions and not all prepositions are associate constructions. The ‘a’ in this example in fact is a merger of the first nouns’ nominal prefix a- and preposition a- (a) amatí lisíni literally: ‘at middle of the river’b ‘in the river’). This prepositional a- also occurs with place names. Another preposition without associative construction is ak. Separate codes were used for associative constructions and prepositions. . Similarly, the formal distinctions between adjectives and adverbs, which may nevertheless consist of the same root, formed the basis for tagging attributive adjectives with one code and adverbs and predicatively used adjectives with another code (see sections 3.4.6.4). The formal distinctions between these two categories are considerable. On top of adjectival marker prefix tà that immediately precedes the class 14 noun root, attributively used adjectives have nominal prefixes in agreement with the noun they qualify. Adjectival markers can also be used with verbal roots in passive participles of the past. In the latter case, the resulting construction was tagged with a separate code (56). All past participles (active and passive) can be used without tà- marker. Furthermore passive participles almost always repeat the inflected verb for its intensification and are marked as such by specific tonal and phonological distinctions. Based on these formal distinctions, participles, adjectives and adverbs were tagged differently.

4.2.3 Verb Phrase11

Subject Prefixes were differentiated for number and aspect, distinguishing between Imperfect, Perfect and Habitual. In contrast to Subject Prefixes, all Object Prefixes were tagged with one single code and glossed as OP. Their optional occurrence is limited. The frequencies in its distribution did not allow for different person- number tags. The differences between Imperfect and Perfect are clearly marked in texts transcribed with the approved Budu orthography. In the next two sentences the separate symbols are illustrated as they are used in Budu orthography: 1. Imperfect tone patterns of the verb are marked with an equation mark that fo= llows the first syllable. 2. Perfect tone patterns of the verb are indicated with a double colon that fo: llows the first syllable. Only texts transcribed after 1996 could be interpreted with help of this orthography. To determine the exact TAM-distinctions, used in texts transcribed in earlier transcriptions, both textual context and tape recorded texts provided clues. Nevertheless I found it the safest option to depend on adverbial clitics and not on my perception of verbal tone. Fortunately Budu has a rich adverbial TAM marking. The tagging of Perfect and Imperfect proved to be difficult in cases where only tonal differences differentiate the two. Perfect inflection can be extended with the adverbial clitic -p (literary: ‘yesterday.’) Forms of this inflection were tagged as Perfect (narrative past). Forms that can be extended with the adverbial -png/pn ‘now; today’ were marked as present (the Imperfect of column IV in table 3.27). This implies that some Perfect Historic Presents that can be extended with this adverbial may have been included.

11See number code 10-62 in Table 4.3 and section 3.5.2 and 3.5.3.

134 However, as the O-vowels of the Subject prefix of this form indicate its Perfect aspect, I labelled most Recent Past Historic Present Perfects as Perfect. The two sorts of Perfect inflections of table 3.27 columns I and II were coded alike. I did not attempt to tag the narrative-past forms of the Perfect and the historic-present forms of the Perfect with separate codes as this seemed beyond the purpose of this research. Future research of the narrative development in story sections would require a refined coding of the two Perfect inflections in order to investigate the differences in their distribution within narrative texts. 12 However, since I was interested in the differences in distribution of forms across all main genre categories of Budu (and not only in the narrative genres), I used one code for Narrative Past and Historic-Present alike. In contrast, lexical consecutive Perfect forms were coded with a separate code, like narrative past Perfect forms that express the remote lexical past and the lexical past. Whereas each number was differentiated in the tagging of Perfects, certain forms were tagged with one single code, namely the lexical past and remote past and the syntactic consecutive. Their frequency was too small to differentiate number. Imperfects with adverbial clitics such as súo ‘later’ were tagged as lexical future. Adverbial Tense marking clitics were tagged for the tense they indicate. Since preliminary research revealed the rare occurrence of remote Future forms, a single code was used for both remote and immediate lexical Future. In contrast, separate coding was used for Past and Remote Past, since in the preliminary phase remote past forms withjn ‘a long time ago’ seemed to be distinctively used. After some hesitation, I decided to tag inflections containing a habitual verbal prefix (see section 3.5.2.7) and verbs derived with the extension –ka, (for repetitive aspect, see 3.5.1.3), alike. This was decided after qualitative research gave me the impression that the choice between the two seems to depend on the idiolect of the speaker. The forms may be used interchangeably despite their distinct morphological nature. In some dialects auxiliaries are used for expressing habitual aspect, as a third possibility. Habitual auxiliaries were nevertheless tagged as auxiliary, and not as habitual. I certainly have mistaken some existential auxiliaries with progressive infinitival prefix ak for Habituals (see section 3.4.1.3). However, since these verbal phrases are used with the same meaning and only very subtle differences in form this seems a minor problem. Another area where I had hesitations was the distinction of tonal patterns in the verb. Some distinctions depend entirely on tonal differences. First, Perfect consecutive past forms with verbal prefix –t- ‘consequently’ were marked as a separate category. In contrast syntactic Perfect consecutive forms (with H final as only distinction) were marked identical to the preceding verb form. The choice implies that syntactic consecutives were sometimes tagged as Imperfect Future. However, from preliminary tagging I knew that Perfect consecutives tend to occur only in work orders. Their misrepresentation in some procedural texts had a restricted impact on the corpus. Preliminary research revealed that second person Imperfect forms and syntactic consecutives (with perfect forms) are rare in the rest of the corpus. Had I, alternatively, tagged them as Perfect Aspect, it would have interfered with the counting of Perfects in general and, on top of that, it would not have accounted for their consecutive character. Some adverbial clitics were initially marked with separate codes for each type because these forms seemed to occur frequently. However, at the end of the preliminary phase, forms like, for instance, the adverbial expression adhaa ngak ’to the extent that,’ occurred too rarely to allow comparisons and consequently these were discarded. Another change in the tagging was the interpretation of some adverbial clitics as one word. Although tak ‘consequently’ and títa ‘just then’ seem to originate in the combination of each two other clitics, they in fact occur as fixed combinations. Several speakers transcribe and gloss the

12 In comment on table 3.30 the observation was made that narrative past Perfect forms tend to be used in the setting of narrative episodes. The Perfect with A-vowel in its prefix is used in adverbial phrases that describe the temporal setting. These adverbials are followed by Perfect forms with O-vowel and A/O-ending (the Historic Present) in the main clause. Series of Perfects with O-prefix and O-ending are used to describe series of actions in flow of the story. Although the analysis of narrative development proved highly interesting for several East African languages (Longacre 1990), it was not the focus of this present study.

135 two as one word. In the final tagging these adverbial constructions were tagged as if they were one clitic. See section 3.5.3.3. Locative Adverbials and Temporal Adverbials were tagged differently only because they differ in position. Locative Adverbials tend to occur sentence-finally while Temporal Adverbials occur by default in sentence-initial position. See section 3.5.3.2 for more information. Another code was used for Adverbs (of manner), that include class 14 roots similar to the adjectival roots (see section 3.4.6.4). All prefixless roots without adjectival marker tà- were tagged as adverbs. Although ideophones are descriptive of quality too, they are formally distinct from adverbs, being consistently introduced with speech markers, and therefore, they were tagged with a separate code. Both their occurrence with speech markers and their phonological properties distinguish ideophones as a distinct category. 13

4.2.4 Mood14

Most verb forms with modal distinction have clitics for either mitigation (–p) or exhortation (g dh)-s). These two were consequently coded with two separate codes. Other clitics were not tagged because of their limited distribution, rendering them implausible as candidates contributing to distinctions of language use. Modal auxiliaries are relatively rare; nevertheless they were tagged with a separate code in order to differentiate them from auxiliaries that express aspect.15 Most pure modal auxiliaries consist of forms of the verb sisékio ‘necessitate.’ Both optative (Perfect) and Imperfect forms of this verb occur relatively frequently and were tagged as modal auxiliary. A less frequent ‘auxiliary’ consists of lexical phrases with the adverb idó ‘good’ such as ya idó or: tidó b ‘it (is) just good to …’ followed by optative phrases that express desired phrases. Just like modal auxiliaries, this lexical phrase consistently precedes desired actions and was therefore tagged as modal auxiliary. Without this phrase the use of modal auxiliaries would have been too insignificant to compare it to other auxiliaries. Next to some lexical expressions of mood, verbal distinctions for mood were tagged. There are negated verb forms, optatives, conditionals, imperatives and infinitives. Negated verb forms were tagged as negation irrespective of the aspectual distinctions indicated in such negating subject prefixes (see table 3.31). So the negated Perfect and the negated Imperfect are tagged alike, their occurrence being too rare to allow for two distinct codes. Optatives are Perfect verbs distinguished by the vowel of the verbal prefix (either i or depending on vowel harmony) and, like other Perfect inflection of this type (column II of table 3.27) by tonal reversal (see section 3.5.2.13). Also conditionals are made with Perfect inflection of the historic-present. These forms on –eni were introduced in section 3.5.2.12. They have an O in their subject prefix, end on –eni and can express virtual actions. Asangama (1983:339) includes the next example: wopóteni mva amúya,ánaktá ‘if you touch the dog’s tail, it will bite you’. The main action is the ‘biting of the dog,’ the yet not realised action of ‘touching its tail’ is the virtual action that is subordinated. Conditional subordinations and similar temporal subordinations express simultaneous action and are marked alike. Gerunds and conditionals may be differentiated in other languages, but in Budu it is difficult to distinguish them (cf. Asangama 1983:342) so the were tagged with one code.

13Phonological features that distinguish ideophones are, for example, reduplication, onomatopoeic sounds, and odd sounds that Budu ideophones exhibit. Consider for example the Mangbetu-inspired bilabial fricative in ‘yábwobwo’ ‘crunchy’ (ideophonic use). This sound is not even part of the phonology of Budu. 14See section 3.5.2.11 to 13 and see number code 52-59 in Table 4.3. 15Inchoative, Habitual, and Perfective aspect can be expressed by means of auxiliaries as Asangama (1983: 366+7) describes it (he gives examples of eight different auxiliaries, which he calls ‘neo-auxiliaries’).

136 Another form with the same segmental ending is the Imperative plural (see 3.5.2.0). Imperatives were marked with one code for their H plural (–éni with H) and singualar (–á ).Negated optatives were tagged as verb negation + optative, based on their formal, not their functional properties (as negated imperative).

4.2.5 Aspect16

Infinitives were tagged as telic (short form) vs. progressive (long form) (see section 3.5.2.4), distinguishing the aspect they express. Some subordinated clauses represent the goal for the main action (‘they entered to boat in order to cross the river’). In Budu the telic use of the infinitive expresses the goal of the main action with a ‘short’ form with or without prefix a-. The progressive infinitive is differentiated by the ‘long’ form with prefix ak-, which expresses an emphasis on processes (as in: ‘crossing the river, they saw a crocodile’). Infinite verbs of both types can be preceded by auxiliaries. All non-modal auxiliaries were tagged with a single code irrespective of the aspect that is expressed. Auxiliaries could however be grouped in three groups with respect to Aspect. First, the inchoative aspect is expressed by the auxiliary pnga ‘to start. Second, the Perfective aspect is expressed by pipo ‘to achieve; finish; complete.’ And finally the auxiliary ka ‘to do; to maintain; to rest’ expresses repeated actions. This auxiliary, which expresses repeated or ongoing actions, is used in free variation with habitual inflection (prefix k-). Verbal extensions with the repetitive –ka / -ko are also used to express Habitual aspect, where this seems not restricted by semantic domains.17 It seems to depend on dialectal variation whether repeated action is expressed by means of auxiliaries, inflection or derivation.18 The habitual codes were only used for the last two, not for any auxiliary expression of the aspect of an infinite form.

4.2.6 Subordination19

Subordinated clauses occur as relative phrases, as adverbial phrases and following lexical connectives. The codes presented thus far involved number codes that immediately precede the tagged form. A determiner, for example, consists of the morpheme NG- with a relative pronoun ‘the one that/ that one.’ In a main clause it is tagged 12Nsk iku 64ngy ‘I took that caterpillar. The number code 12 indicates the first person singular form of the Perfect, code 64 indicates the determiner. Subordination requires a different type of tagging that relates to the entire clause. In the researched corpus every clause was placed on a separate line and preceded by a repeated text code consisting of four digits, indicating cassette or book number; text number; genre code and clause code. The last two digits were used for information about the clause. This clause code was automatically tagged for subordination in the following three cases: in verb phrases with relative affixes, in adverbial phrases with infinite verbs and in clauses that are subordinated with connectives. The first two possibilities require some comments. Some relative clauses modify a specific place, time or manner of an action. Consider the following example in line 33:bya as bngas, ngbab inye abio- badeté ak ng.’He arrived under the fruit-tree, in which his mother had been climbing (upwards into it).’ The long vowel that is attached as affix to the second inflected verb in this phrase marks it as subordinate. The first relative clause is not underlined. It modifies the fruit-tree (bngas). The following verb phrase is underlined. Its verb abio- badeté ‘she had been climbing-towards’ is related to a place by locative-relative affix–. This affix marks the entire clause as specification relative to a place,

16See number code 60-62 in Table 4.3 and the section 3.5.2 and 3.5.3. 17he use of certain verb roots, for instance, requires an alternative solution to express habitual aspect since the derivation with –ka has developed a derogatory sense (see table 3.25). 18Future research of possible lexicalisation processes in Bantu-D is needed in Budu and related languages. Considering the extent of (de-) syntacticalisation, irregular expressions of TAM are not surprising. 19See Table 4.3 the codes 65; 66; 82; 83; 63; 64; 55; and 73; 75 and 76.

137 since its vowel is – and not -. 20 In this sentence the place is indicated by the preceding noun ‘tree’ bngas as ngbab specifies. Subordinated clauses with verbal relative affixes (RAF in the glossing) are used with antecedents that indicate place, time or manner. Two separate codes were used, one for subordinations with – and another for clauses with – (see also section 3.5.3.2). Most modifications of time/ place/ manner have an anaphoric antecedent. There are two groups of anaphoric antecedents. Locative clauses modify phrases preceded by ínaní; íyaní ‘there.’ Temporal clauses are preceded by anani/aka; ak ; ‘then; here; thus;’ both words are used for manner as well, consider for example the next question of a palm tree climber to his son:

W-a ndí k a-n-na? Ak na- ak-dhdhk ma-kpab? IPF.2SG-be INTER indeed to-INF-see ANAPH IPF.1SG –RAF PROG-arrange CL –rope 1. Do you indeed see it? 2. The way I am arranging the ropes (around my leg)?

Anaphora were tagged as either locative or as temporal anaphora.21 Sometimes temporal phrases are used with the connective y ‘when; as; while’ for antecedent. The discussed relative phrases, either the ones with anaphoric antecedents such as ak in line 2 or the ones with nominal antecedents, such as bngas ‘tree’ in line 33 were governed by inflected verbs. Relative locative or temporal phrases that are marked by an affix were coded as subordinate phrase. Another subordination, that also requires some comments here, is the adverbial phrase with infinite verb forms. All clauses with infinite verb forms were tagged with a clause code for subordination. Some finite verb forms were included on –eni (with L). They express the simultaneous occurrence of an action subordinated to the main action (see also section 4.2.4). Lexical subordination can result from various kinds of connectives. Four different codes were used to tag such connectives. Temporal connectives (nd ‘when;’ y ‘when; as; while’) were tagged with one code, modal connectives (ambgb ‘while actually; but in fact;’ amb ’in fact; actually’ and nd ‘as; like’) with another code and a third code was used for both logical connectives (dh ‘for; because,’ and for the rhetorical connective yákamngana ‘however’). In the initial tagging the rhetorical connective was tagged separately, however, since its distribution seemed too limited,22 it later was grouped with other logical connectives as entry 75 in table 4.3 indicates. Since this freed a number code, another code was used in the final coding for elements in the lay-out of written texts, such as numbering, titles and illustrations. Comparisons between phrasal negation sókom ‘without’ (code 74) and verbal negation (code 60) was made possible since phrasal negation was tagged for its negative connective. Phrasal negation is often used to negate a subordinated verb form (mostly an infinitive) but it can also negate a noun. One subordination code per clause was used in case of relative phrases, adverbial phrases and in case of temporal subordination by lexical means.

20 For an example of the other affix (relative of place and manner) consider also the sentence: Bamoya bangdyaa km slng ngbinga, ngya lp b gn langba km- ‘The initiates shall eat no peanuts ‘as long as’ the wounds of the circumcision have not yet healed.’ In this sentence the time span (ngbinga) of the main action is modified by a relative clause again. In this relative clause the subordinate verb langba km- ‘as long as’ the wounds (the class 8 nominal prefix agrees with the wounds) are not yet healed’ relates to a time. The affix - is used for time and manner. 21 See table 4.3 code 80 and 81. 22 Logic connectives seem to occur only in debates (disagreements), or this is what as a preliminary corpus research (quantitive) indicated. This observation needs to be investigated, since it could have serious consequences for translated texts that are not meant to be argumentative.

138 4.2.7 Reported Speech23

Reported speech represents a special form of subordination. Reported speech clauses are tagged per clause as either direct speech, indirect speech or, in case another language was used, as code switching. Speech verbs were differentiated as follows. Common speech verbs were tagged with one code. Verbs of the most common type (sugo ‘to say’) occur so frequently that they could be tagged separately, other codes were used for the applicative (sigio ‘to tell’), and for the progressive infinitive (akosigio ‘saying’). A separate code indicates the petrified impersonal and uninflected form of the same verb sugo ‘to say’ that sounds as ga ‘say.’ Connectives that introduce speech are b and b ‘that.’ One code was used, irrespective of mode, since modal connectives (b) occur not frequently enough to allow for separate tagging. Next to the code for ‘code switching,’ used for entire clauses in a foreign language, each loanword in the corpus is tagged with a code denoting its language of origin. Only ten English words occurring in two clauses with code switching were insufficient for the use of a separate code. In contrast, Swahili and Lingala words occur frequently enough to justify separate codes for each language. The potential for differentiation of language use by the use of loanwords seemed considerable regarding the influential aspects of acculturation in the languages concerned (take for example the use of Swahili in religious contexts (cf. Fabian 1990) or of French by representatives of the government (cf. De Rooij’s (1996) study of code switching in Shaban Swahili).

4.2.8 Coordination24

The three different connectives that express coordination were tagged with one single code. First there is the connective n ‘and,’ used to connect two main clauses,25 then there is the sentence initial modal p b ‘or maybe’, and finally the sentence initial batá ‘again.’ The last word can also occur as adverbial clitic immediately following the inflected verb. Another code is used for adverbial use of batá, based on its different position. Not coded as coordination was the additive n ‘with ; by; to’. Like in the case of batá, the different position of the word forms the basis for using distinct codes. Clause initial, the additive may introduce infinitives as goal. Between nouns it emphasises the second of two connected notions.

4.2.9 Emphasis26

Reversed sentence order (OVS instead of SVO) rarely occurs in Budu, however, some focus constructions in face-to-face interaction exploit this attention seeking device. Interjections such as oí ‘yes’; haa ‘no’ ; or various expressions of surprise íbi;ngai;hóó or do ‘what ?!’ or indignation húú ‘what?!’ were tagged with separate codes, similar to sentence-initially used vocatives. The special exclamation ínaa we ‘Oh my‘ (literally: ‘look at you!’) was tagged with a separate code. Also all expressions of politeness such as the adverbial clitic baka (please) were coded as polite vocatives (ábhaa ‘sir’ and naá ‘mother ; mistress’). The oath vocative was tagged in yet another way, since the use of baná b‘naá ‘children of mother’ seemed not restricted to siblings with the same mother

23 See Table 4.3 number code 48-52 and 00. For more information see appendix 4.A and section 5.2.1.2. 24 See Table 4.3 number code 72. 25 Asangama (1983:372) has observed sentences where simultaneous action is introduced by a coordinating connective followed by an infinitive ákwadá nó ndea (sic) “he sleeps (while) crying.” 26 See Table 4.3 the number codes 85 -98.

139 as the speaker, as a literal interpretation of the expression suggests. Other recurring idiomatic expressions were marked by a single code. Introductions of examples or of gestures or illustrations with b ‘that’ or ban ‘like’ were tagged with one single code. Two criteria were used for tagging a recurring morpho-syntactic category in the researched corpus with a separate code. First, forms can only be compared to each other for their distribution if they occur frequently enough in more than one genre of language use. This implies that sometimes similar categories had to be tagged alike, to avoid the risk of excluding their comparison with different categories. Second, forms need to exhibit formal and not merely functional differences. Formal differences may include the position of a form in the sentence, but without formal distinctions a form can not be tagged as separate category.

4.3 Statistical Tools

The third step, after identifying various morpho-syntactic categories and various genres in the researched corpus, is to describe dependencies between these two variables. The methodology developed to investigate such relations arose from an interest in questions like: Are there (groups of) genres that are distinguished by the particular language use? Can this language use be described in terms of certain combinations of linguistic forms that (co-)occur predictably these genres? One approach to answer such questions is represented by the factor analyses that were executed for English by Biber (1988), for Nukulaelae by Besnier (1988), for Korean by Kim (1990) and for Somali by Hared (1992). Such type of analysis establishes patterns of co-occurrence in a large corpus with at least 10 to 15 texts for each text type involved. This number of texts is required since factor analysis is based on the average frequency (the standard deviation) of a form in all the texts in the entire corpus and enables groupings of forms with a shared distribution in relation to this average. These shared deviations may co-occur in particular genres and thereby distinguish these genres. It is the shared deviation from the SD that is significant in factor analyses and not the frequency of single forms in a genre. Therefore single forms may, in this approach, contribute to characteristic language use (characteristic for a set of genres), without significant frequency in a category per se, as long as the shared distribution or co-variance with other distinctive features is significant. In this approach the relation of single forms to each other is the most important. If forms share both positive and negative distribution with regards to the SD, they are considered a cluster of co-occurrence. My own approach to co-variance is similar. The first step is explained in this chapter. The next steps are explained in chapter 5 and 7, where I explain how I developed a way to establish dimensions of language use based on observed frequencies. To obtain these frequencies without a factor analysis, first the relation between forms and genres needs to be established. In calculating correlations between single forms and single genres, patterns of language use can be deduced from the observed correlations. To measure the relation between genres and linguistic forms, exact probability tests such as the Fisher Yates test were used as statistic tool. Fisher Yates is a well established test that is developed in biometry since the second half of last century (Sokal and Rohlf 1969). The test is used to establish the relation between two variables. It determines whether or not two variables are independent of each other, and if variables prove to be dependent on each other, the test can also measure the correlation between the variables exactly. The test therefore is also called Fisher Exact, since it is not depending on a model of probability nor calculating with any a priori chances or deviations as a means to establish correlations. Samples that are used in Fisher Exact tests can be relatively small for reasons that will be explained now. To avoid random error (the error that occurs if the samples are not representative for the population) it is crucial to have samples selected by mother tongue speakers. Their agreement about the functional interpretation of the use of forms in thirty texts can be considered as so called kappa scores, which guarantee the representativeness of the samples.

140 The point of departure of Fisher Yates test is to assume the probability of joint occurrences in case two (types of) variables are independent of each other (the so called null hypothesis). One can for example imagine the chances of finding a red dented corn kernel given that half of all corn is red and one third of all corn is dented. The probability of obtaining a red and dented kernel would be the product of their separate probabilities: ½ times 1/3 would make 1/6, if the joint occurrences of the characteristics red and dented are statistically independent. If the ratio between any observed joint occurrences and the estimated joint occurrences is different, the relation between kernels being red and their being dented remains to be explained (genetically for instance). The basic calculation in exact probability tests compares actual observations with the expected joint occurrences. Expectations are based on the hypothesis that the variables are totally independent from each other. All deviations from these expectations are considered as indications of possible interrelatedness of the variables. Calculations of the joint occurrences that are to be expected based on the null hypothesis can be exact (e.g. they can include four classes as based on the hyper geometric distribution) if the total amount of observations is fixed (as in the researched corpus, where the amount of genres and the amount of forms is fixed). Such calculations involve no more than four possibilities that determine the ratios between the observations that are to be expected in the researched corpus: form + genre; no such form + genre; that form + not that genre; no such form + not that genre. To imagine an application of this model of Fisher Yates tests on the concrete observations for which it was first designed, allow me to refer to an example from biometry. In biometry the case may arise that an insect infests two species of trees. This leads to an investigation of the relation between the variables insect and trees, for the researchers want to know whether the insect under study (A) exhibits a preference for one species of trees (B). Now, if there is an enormous amount of specific insects that infests acacia trees, one could easily draw the conclusion that this acacia species must be vulnerable to these insects. If many trees are infested, the insects might ‘like’ the tree or the trees might have wood that is sensitive to these insects. In any case, there seems to be a relation between the two variables that needs to be explained. However, a single focus on the amount of insects in the acacia would not be exact as measurement and could even be misleading. Imagine for example that the insect under study is a grasshopper and the environment of the tree is covered with grasshoppers. Then all other species of trees will be infested with grasshoppers just because the insects happen to have arrived there. Observations from a plague stricken area could theoretically lead researchers to postulate that insects ‘like’ certain trees, while in actual fact the entire environment where the trees are situated was indiscriminately covered with grasshoppers, in contrast to trees just outside ‘the swarms.’ Therefore to establish the relation between two variables more exactly, all possible observations need to be considered. This can be done by systematically counting each observation as one of four possible combinations of the two variables. Not only the number of acacia trees with grasshoppers, but also the number of other trees with grasshoppers should be considered and on top of that the number of acacia trees without grasshoppers and the number of other trees without grasshoppers. Theoretically these are the four classes of possible combinations. The first variable is called A, the second B:

A and B, A and not-B, not-A and B and not-A and not-B.

A Fisher Yates test could establish the interrelatedness of the two variables grasshoppers and acacia trees if the amount of observations for A and B are high while not-A and not-B are high too. This means that there should not only be many grasshoppers in the acacia, but there should also be a significant absence of grasshoppers in the immediate environment of the acacia trees. On top of that the grasshoppers should not infest other trees and there should be very few acacia trees without

141 grasshoppers. Only then the relation between these specific grasshoppers and these acacia trees could be established. Often in biometry two-way tables are used to display such data. Two-way tables divide each of the two criteria in the investigation into two classes. Such two-way tables are also called contingency tables or 2 x 2 tables:

not-insect infested insect infested the sum tree species 13 44 57 not- that species 25 29 54 ------the sum 38 73 111

In general (not specifically in the Fisher exact test) a two-way table enables systematic computing of expected frequencies (based on the null hypothesis of independence) so that these can be compared to the observed frequencies. For example the insect infested ‘other trees’ in this case were 29. To compare this observed frequency to the expected frequency the calculation is as follows: (54) (73)/111 = 35,5, a higher value than the observed frequency of 29. The four expected cell frequencies can be calculated for each cell in the table by multiplying a row total times a column total, and dividing the product by the grand total. In this example there indeed seemed to be a relation between the variables (as can be established by calculating the probability for each cell). In Fisher’s exact test the computation is based on the assumption that the row and column classifications are independent and that the row and column totals are fixed. The main question answered by this test is, given a two-way table with the same row and column totals as the observed one, what the chance is of obtaining the observed cell frequencies in all four possible cases, including ‘worse cases’ ( representing a greater deviation from expectation)? In case of the grasshopper example this would mean, that the investigators would base their calculations on the total number of trees and grasshoppers and hypothesise what the ratios infested/non-infested and acacia/other species of trees would be if the experiment would be repeated with the same totals in case the two variables would be independent. For the calculations of such chances, an algebraic notation of the four mentioned possibilities in the two-way table is helpful: sum a b a+b c d c+d sum a+c b+d a+b+c+d=n

The probability of obtaining the same ratios (as in the observed cell frequencies) or more extreme frequencies in case of a new experiment with the same total number of trees and insects, can, with help of the coefficients of multinomial distribution, be calculated by the following formula:

(a+b)!(c+d)!(a+c)!(b+d)! P= ------a!b!c!d!n!

This formula in fact is the product of the number of ways of taking the first row (a+b) items from the total (n) of observations multiplied by the number of combinations of the first column (a+c) items taken from (n). For the researched corpus a software programme designed by Doctor Wattel calculated these probabilities for a multi-way table with 16 genres and 100 forms. This programme computed the possible occurrences of linguistic forms in particular genres based on the null hypothesis. In other words, the programme took the total number of linguistic realisations in the researched corpus and calculated the chance for each particular linguistic form to occur in each particular genre had the

142 language use been arbitrary (had there been no relation between language use and genre). This assumption is merely a means to measure the observed occurrences of forms in genres, since in actual language use there obviously is a relation between language use and genre (as in the case of the insects and the trees). The ratio provides an exact way to measure probability without standard deviations or other estimated chances. In Fisher Exact tests the possible relations between two variables are split in four classes of possible combinations. The expected combinations are compared to actual combinations as they are observed. The ratio between the four combinations of actual observations indicates whether the variables are independent or interrelated. So Fisher Exact tests establishes the possible correlation of two variables based on the ratio between the chances for either combination to occur given a fixed total number of possible observations: a form occurs in a genre that form occurs in other genres absence of that form in that same genre absence of that form in other genres

If genre and form are not dependent on each other, the chances for the form to occur anywhere (1 versus 2) are similar to the chances that it is absent anywhere (for observation 3 versus observation 4), implying that there will be a comparable number of observations representing either case. If the form occurs in a genre while it is absent in other genres, (if 1 and 4 occur frequently) whereas that form rarely is absent from that genre while it rarely occurs in other genres (2 and 3 are relatively rare), a correlation between form and genre is established implying its consistent occurrence in that genre. If the form frequently occurs in other genres while being absent from the researched genre, (if 2 and 3 occur frequently) a correlation in the reverse sense is established. It implies that the form is consistently absent in the genre. The point is that actual observations are compared to other observations made in the corpus. Foremost the ratio between the four possible combinations determines the established relation between the variables. If, for instance, the observed use of determiners in medical information plus its use in other genres is comparable to its observed absence, both in texts representing medical information and in the rest of the corpus, one can draw the conclusion that determiners probably occur for no special reason in medical information, but that they are just arbitrarily used. In contrast, modal connectives are not only used frequently in trickster stories but also are absent in other genres, whereas the same modal connective is heard in only a few other genres, and on top of that it not consistently absent in trickster stories. One can therefore, based on the ratio between these four observations, conclude that there must be some relation between trickster stories and modal connectives. Fisher Exact tests are not only used to establish correlations between two (types of) variables, they can also be used to calculate the probability (or in other words the extent) of these correlations. To obtain the probability of ‘worse’ cases (worse or more extreme than expected) one needs to list the worse cases in both extreme tails, compute the probability for each case and sum these probabilities. This involves several calculations of logarithms based on the established correlation between two variables. For technical details I refer to the 1995 edition of the handbook by Sokal and Rohlf in which this established statistic tool was introduced in 1969. In chapter 5 the results of Fisher Yates tests are not only presented, they are also compared to each other. The technical details of this comparison are explained in appendix 4.B.

143

4.4 Conclusion

In this chapter the methodology for establishing correlations between linguistic forms and genres was explained after an introduction of all tagged forms and all socially recognised genre categories. Correlations can either imply the consistent absence or the consistent presence of a form in a genre. First, all genres were labelled by Budu speakers with the exception of the embedded genres. Speech genres occur in daily life and as reported speech. Budu speakers use the same names to refer to the language use in reported speech and in speech. The genre labels that arose in team discussions with Budu speakers were used to label embedded genres. Embedded genres were analysed in a mini- corpus, separate from the main corpus of research (see for the results chapter 6). Second, the linguistic forms were identified based on formal distinctions, possibly including distinctions regarding a form’s position in the sentence. Some categories are so large that they can be differentiated for inflection and derivation, some only have a few occurrences in the corpus and therefore are represented as less differentiated group, combined with similar forms or disregarded. Third, the methodology for establishing the relation between forms and genres was explained as: taking the ration between the observed distributions of forms in genres and comparing these with the calculated ratios of a possible distribution had the forms and genres been independent of each other. This calculation was executed with the Fisher Yates test as applied by Doctor Wattel in software designed for the Budu corpus.

Appendix 4.A Direct and Indirect Speech

Different codes were used to tag indirect speech and direct speech on basis of their differences in orientation, as will be discussed in this appendix.

A limited set of inflected verbs is used to introduce reported speech.27 Following the speech verb a connective bö ‘that; as follows; like’ immediately precedes the reported speech. This most frequent connective is used for direct and for indirect speech alike. Consider the use of direct speech in line A:

Seki ö-ngïa b-aná bá-ngö bö Turtle PF.3SG-tell CL-child CL-his that: A. Turtle told his children:

“Y-apöpïa e-k-éní aka, no-mi-njo i-kwe.” CL-butterfly 3SG-come-COND here CONS.2PL-OP3SG-give CL-bag “Would Butterfly come here, you should give him the bag.”

In the animal story from which line A is taken, two animals are befriended. Line A contains a reported order, in which Turtles children are ordered to give Butterfly a bag. Two characteristics of direct speech can be mentioned.

27The most frequently used speech introducing verbs are e.g. tongúo ‘think;’ mbîa ‘to know;’ nîta (R) ‘ask; pray; request’ and bokúo ‘to ask; to greet’.

144 The first concerns the orientation. In contrast to the speech introducing phrase where the children are mentioned as object baná, in the direct speech that follows they are referred to with the second person plural nominjó ‘you shall give’. The Object Prefix of the third person singular (the infix mi- ‘him’) refers to the receiver. The orientation of phrases that are reported directly is that of the speaker. For the Turtle Butterfly is a third person. The second concerns the mood of the verb. The verb of giving nominjo occurs in indicative mood. The consecutive form carries the optative mood of the preceding verbal phrase with its conditional ‘Would Butterfly come, you should give him the bag.” Its conditional verb is inflected for the third person singular (‘if he comes’), referring to Butterfly (ekeni “If (butterfly) comes”). Verbs in direct speech usually occur in the indicative mood. In the same text, the same sentence is repeated in indirect speech. Consider the two characteristics that were mentioned again:

O-sugo bö w-ek-ení, ti-ni-njo i-kwe ng-ïyë. PF.3SG –say that 2SG-come-COND OPT.1PL-OP2SG-give CL-bag DET-CL B. He said that would you come, we were to offer you this bag.

First, the orientation of line B is discussed. In line B with its indirect speech, the children of Turtle use tininjó with first plural ti- prefix ‘we’ for the action of giving (‘we should give’) since they are speaking while Object Prefix (ni- ‘you’) refers to Butterfly, who is now the addressed. The orientation of the indirect speech has changed. The order is no longer presented from the perspective of the original speaker: for the children, the Turtle is a second person. Second, note that the verb of giving occurs in irreal mood this time. The subject prefix has vowel I instead of vowel O, unlike the indication of optative mood with the indicative consecutive in line A. Like in line A, the circumstances are described with a conditional verb. Unlike in line A, this conditional is inflected for the second person singular (‘if you come’). Indirect speech differs from direct speech, because it has a different orientation. Furthermore, the irreal mood of the main verb characterises the indirect speech. Indirect speech tends to concern actions that are not (yet) accomplished. Another example is provided by the pair of the lines 15 and 16. Consider line 16 with indirect speech in comparison to line 15 with direct speech :28

O-ko-mu-bok-íso (kö)mû kû banî bö:W-a gba-ní-e? PF.3SG–NEG-OP3SG- greet –CAUS not too like that IPF.2SG-be where-INT-eh 15. She did not even ask him: “Where are you?”

Ö-kö-mbî (k)ömû kû banî bö swaï ö-sö gba-nî. PF.3SG-NEGPF-know not too like that husband PF.3SG –go where-INT 16. She had not gathered where her husband had gone.

The lines 15 and 16 both have a negated speech verb. Line 15’s direct speech has a second person inflection (wa ‘you are’) in reference to an addressee. Line 16’s indirect speech has a third person inflection in reference to the same person. The difference between direct and indirect speech is minimal as negation of the speech verb makes the use of an irreal mood in the reported speech in line 16 redundant. Indirect speech is frequently used to emphasize unaccomplished actions. In storytelling, it can be used to underline the intention to do something. Some constructions with reported speech are always used to express the intention of participants rather than their actual speech. The verb sugo ‘to

28These lines are from a pact story by Fomuno Alongbaa tape 3 text 1. See for the whole story section 7.2.1.6.

145 say’ can be used to merely introduce a plan or thought, indicating the subject ‘being at the point of’ accomplishing a certain action. Consider for example:

A-sugo bö a-nda m-edhi ndû bôgïna bö PF.3SG-say that IPF.3SG –kick CL-footprint like four that 25. He was about to take like four steps when…

ö-kö tîa ü-mbö a-mbise á-ngö. PF.3SG-hear now CL-song at-CL.behind CL-him 26. he heard a song behind him.

In the idiomatic expression asugo bö anda medhi ‘he said that he kicked four footprints’, the verb sugo is used in the sense: ‘he was about to take the first steps, when…’ It expresses the intention of the protagonist to continue his journey. The literal reference to four steps plays no specific role in the story. The number of steps is fixed in this idiomatic expression that indicates the intended continuation of a described trip. In line 26 the inflected verb NDA occurs in the Imperfect future. Its subject prefix refers to same person as a-sugo ‘he said.’ Like other occurrences of indirect speech, third person rather than first person is used. In conclusion, Budu apparently uses indirect speech to express a focus on the intention(s) of the discourse participants. Use of irreal mood forms such as the optative and the future emphasize the unaccomplished situation. Particular idiomatic expressions with indirect speech underline intentions that are not yet accomplished.

Appendix 4.B A manual method to compare forms with a shared distribution

Some of the results that are discussed in chapter 5 indicate a dependent relation between form and genre. A few occur consistently in several genres, while, on top of that, they are consistently absent from other genres. These are the most interesting results in relation to the questions that were asked in the introduction to section 4.3 on statistical tools. Further investigation requires that the distribution of these forms is compared to forms that exhibit a similar distribution. Without anticipating on the discussion of results, the method to compare forms with a shared distribution is explained in this appendix to chapter 4 about methodology. The comparison of complementary distributions of single forms in all 16 genres of the corpus is not easy to observe from a first glance at the correlation matrix in table 5. Since I did not use software to study the research results, I proceeded step by step, as I will explain. This explanation can be best read as if it concerned the rules for a game, where the winner is the complementary distribution with most significant correlations in comparison to its other correlations. The first step was to count the amount of correlations that indicate a dependency between form and genre for each form in table 5. I ordered the research results of table 5 accordingly. The form that exhibits the most dependent correlations was on top and the form with only one was mentioned among the lasts. The second step was to distinguish consistent absences from consistent presences of forms in genres. In order to get an overview of the two extreme ends of the distribution of each form, I systematically separated the two. For each form with more than four significant correlations I took a

146 sheet and wrote the genres in which they are consistently absent on the left side and the genres in which they consistently occur on the right side, separated by ‘versus.’ For example:

Speech introducer: church songs, circumcision songs and individual songs vs. Animal stories Auxiliaries: church songs vs. riddles; trickster- & ghost stories

Instead of the full indication of the genre names, I used prepared sheets, encircling a letter representing the genre involved. The sheets had two times the first row of table 5, separated by an empty cell. As an example, consider only three lines of such sheet that was filled with similar lines; note that each genre name is represented by a letter, that would be encircled in case of a significant absence (left row) or presence (right row). a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p

The first line was used to for a form with many correlations. Some genre categories on the left side were encircled to indicate the form’s consistent absences in those genres; categories on the right side were encircled for consistent presences (the ‘1’s and ‘0’s in table 5). The form itself was written next to the rightmost column in the same row. So, the left half of the sheet was used to note its negative distribution, the right half for its positive distribution. Secondly, I tried to find the maximum amount of forms that shared this distribution. I started with forms that have an overlapping distribution with more than four correlations. For each form with a similar distribution a new line was used. Each form was noted next to the row concerned. Consider the following example without encircling: a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p Speech intr bö a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p Auxiliaries a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p IPF FUT 2 SG a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p Short Infinitives a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p Modal Aux. a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p Rel. Cl. – ëë a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p Adverbs a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p Interr pronouns a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p Rec mkr kû

Once a sheet had an encircled letter on the left side, no forms with a consistent presence in the corresponding genre could be added on that sheet it to guarantee a shared distribution, implying that that letter could not be encircled on the right side. Similarly, once it had an encircled letter on the right side, that same letter could not be encircled on the left side. Such forms were disregarded since apparently they do not cluster with the form in the first row. Forms that did not match the distribution in the first row were written on a different sheet. After exhausting all possible matches with forms that have many significant correlations I continued to look for forms that have fewer significant correlations. I continued with forms that have only one pair of contrasting correlations and ended with genre markers that occur in only one genre. The third step was to strike the columns without any encirclings. If, for example, no consistent absences were observed in the genres b, d, f, h, j, l, o and p, the columns for those letters were stroked on the left side. Similarly, if no consistent presences were noted in the genres a, c, e, g, i, k, m, and n, the columns with those letters were stroked on the right side. Genres without consistent presence or absence of the listed forms were stroked through on either side, for example e and f. Consider the resulting overview of the complementary nature of the negative and positive distribution of forms

147 (instead of the handwritten encircling that were used in the manuscript, I used bold print in this printed example): a b c d e f g h I j k l m n o p abcd e f g hi jkl m n opSpeech intr bö a b c d e f g h I j k l m n o p abcdef g h i jkl m n o p Auxiliaries a b c d e f g h I j k l m n o p abcdef g hi j k l m n o p IPF FUT 2 SG a b c d e f g h I j k l m n o p abcdef g h i jkl m n o p Short Infinitives a b c d e f g h I j k l m n o p abcdef g hi jkl m n o p Modal Aux. a b c d e f g h I j k l m n o p abcdef g hi jkl m n o p Rel. Cl. – ëë a b c d e f g h I j k l m n o p abcdef g hi jkl m n o p Adverbs a b c d e f g h I j k l m n o p abcdef g h i jkl m n o p Interr pronouns a b c d e f g h I j k l m n o p ab c def g hi jkl m n opRec mkr kû

The fourth step was to combine the negative and the positive distribution to get an overview over the complementary distribution in sixteen genres. If this manual method is applied systematically, genre categories with encircling on the left side occur with stroked through correlations on the right side. Columns with stroked-through correlations can be deleted. This makes it possible to present the obtained overview in the form of the tables that are presented as 5A-F in the next chapter. Each genre category that is not stroked through is presented by a separate column in these tables. The remaining genre categories differ for each form (in each row). Genres that have a significant correlation with a particular form were encircled in the row for that form (in the example shown above they appear in bold print). Encircled genres on the right side correspond to the cells with ‘1’ and encircled genres on the left side with cells with ‘0’. The other genre-form correlations are indicated with hyphens in the tables 5.A - F. Consider for example:

dram cultr parbl churc life prov circ indiv pac anim party riddl work trick med ghos - - - 0 - 0 0 0 - 1 ------Speech intr bö 0 - - 0 ------1 - 1 - 1 Auxiliaries 0 0 - - 0 ------1 - - - IPF FUT 2 SG - - - 0 ------1 - - 1 - Short Infinitives 0 ------1 - Modal Aux. 0 ------1 Rel. Cl. – ëë 0 ------1 - Adverbs - 0 ------1 - - - - Interr pronouns 0 ------1 ------Rec mkr kû

In the example that is used here, parables and party songs have no significant correlations with any of the listed forms, like the ‘e’ and f’ in the earlier examples. Nevertheless, parables are included on the left side since polite vocatives have an overlapping distribution that will be discussed in comment on table 5.E. only. It is beyond the scope of this expository example to discuss it here. Party songs are included on the right side since genres that remain undistinguished by the cluster of listed forms are still included in the positive distribution. This is because their incidental occurrence in that genre can not be excluded either. Hyphens denote that a form is used to some extent in a genre, but not consistently. The difference between the negative distribution on the left and the positive distribution on the right can be presented in a clearer way. The tables 5.A - F have their columns with forms in the middle, between the genres with a negative distribution and the set of genres with a positive distribution. (In chapter 5 genres with a reverse distribution are included in the bottom half of each table, as will be explained in section 5.2.5.)

148 Chapter 5. Conventional Language Use in the Main Genres

“The conscious mind must deal with the perceptions that percolate through the sensory windows and the conventions of language point to a range of available meanings.” Graham Furniss (2003:72) 5.0 Introduction

This chapter presents the results of a quantitative research. It presents the observed language use in a corpus of texts with sixteen main genres (see table 4.1A). The occurrence of all tagged forms was counted (see table 4.3) and its significance was calculated with Fisher Yates tests (see section 4.3). The results are compared in table 5. Correlations between ninety-nine morpho-syntactic categories and sixteen genres are listed in section 5.1, discussed in section 5.2 and interpreted in section 5.3. In the discussion of the results in section 5.2, shared distributions are in focus. Correlations that represent a dependency between form and genre are considered as significant. Forms with a shared distribution of significant correlations have in common that they occur in one set of genres while they tend to be absent in another set of genres. Six clusters of forms with such complementary distributions could be observed by comparing the correlations in table 5 (no software was involved).1 No other clusters of ten or more forms could be found. For expository reasons, each of the six clusters is considered in detail in separate sections of 5.2. Each section discusses the distribution of another cluster, which represents, for expository reasons, results that are repeated from table 5. In the tables 5.A - F, only forms of the discussed cluster are repeated. The tables in section 5.2 do not represent new information. They just emphasize the clusters of co-occurrence that can be observed comparing the results. Such emphasis makes it possible to discuss the co-variation as empirical observation in the analysis of creative language use.2 An assumption in this research is that a shared distribution is an indication of a shared function in communication. This assumption is well established since Ervin-Tripp first suggested it with the restricted application of collocations (1972). It can be helpful to consider which forms fall into clusters, i.e. which forms are found together in texts with more than random frequency. Such clusters of co- occurrence may indicate the role of certain forms in communication. Since genres represent situations of language use, a shared distribution has some implications. Either some aspects of the situations involved activate the selection of forms that co-occur in them, or these forms all reflect particular aspects of these situations of language use. To start with the first, some situations require a special choice of words that apparently is the most apt in the particular genre of language use. In most states, polite vocatives, for instance, are considered the most appropriate form

1The comparison of results was done by hand, comparing the dependent correlations of variables with each other. In this comparison I only considered forms with a similar distribution, first selecting forms with many correlations and then looking for forms with an overlap in distribution. This handwork is explained step by step in appendix 4.B. 2The size of this corpus with 59,284 words is sufficiently large for generalisations concerning language use, however, it does not allow for comprehensive genre descriptions as such. Properties of individual genres will be made whenever relevant in the ongoing discussion, they are not the focus of this chapter.

149 for addressing the head of State. That situation therefore activates the selection of the polite vocative in co-occurrence with other expressions of politeness. On the other hand, some forms reflect the situation in which they are used directly. In most languages, the use of imperatives is the most direct means for giving instructions. Imperatives, like second person forms reflect the situation in which this direct expression occurs, for instance in urgencies. Both imperatives and second person forms reflect such direct appeals. In conclusion, shared distributions may indicate a conventional choice of forms (e.g. the polite vocative) or follow from an inherent property of some of the forms included in it (e.g. the imperative). This can be investigated in two steps in this dissertation. In section 5.2 the inherent properties of selected forms are considered. The direct expression of communicative intention is the least difficult to interpret. Therefore this chapter starts to interpret the most common function of linguistic forms of each cluster with a shared distribution. In section 5.2. the shared properties of the majority of forms in one cluster are interpreted. Their shared distribution implies that all forms are used in a comparable context of language use. They therefore reflect particular aspects of it, for example the physical presence of the addressee. This is step one. The second step in a functional interpretation concerns the conventional choice of certain forms in certain genres. Whereas chapter 5 compares linguistic forms in each cluster, chapter 7 compares the genres in each set where these forms co-occur. In chapter 7 these genres are compared to investigate aspects of the communication that might activate the selection of particular forms. Since some aspects already emerge in the first step, when the most common function of linguistic forms is considered, chapter 5 includes some remarks about the genres that are involved.3 In isolation most forms do not express any communicative intention in particular. Conventional language use can contribute to the function that linguistic elements develop. A set of potential functions with one, or sometimes several forms can be actualised in a specific context. This process is called the ‘crystallisation’ of a convention into a function by Östman: “As soon as a manifestation of form is allocated, co-constructed, or used by members of a group for a specific purpose - albeit as a dialectal use at first – the combination of a form with its use tends to crystallise into a function to be utilised in subsequent encounters,’’ (Östman 2005:198). This crystallisation, of the use of a form into a fixed function, implies that, in each language, a certain category of forms started, by convention, to be used as indirect expression of communicative intention. Forms with a conventional use that is crystallised into a function are discussed in detail, since their function is not obvious at first sight. The function of these forms emerges when considering their patterns of co-occurrence. The reader who is interested in a general overview may choose to skip over these details, which are for that reason presented in appendices (5.B to E). In conclusion, since it is impossible to understand the communicative function of a form in a language from observing its occurrences in isolation, the shared distribution of each form is considered.

5.1. Description of Research Results

Software based on Fisher Yates tests was designed by Dr. Evert Wattel to obtain the observed distribution of each tagged form over the 16 main genres. Instead of factor analyses, which are used in the MD-approach of Biber c.s., Fisher Yates tests were used (see section 4.3). To facilitate an interpretation of the tables in this chapter some details need to be explained first.

3For example, Habitual forms of the verb could be used in any situation of language use, it seems, like prepositions. Yet upon further investigation of the results, some properties of Habituals emerge when the shared distribution of these forms with optative forms in prayers and idiomatic expressions in rituals is taken into account. Their co-occurrence distinguishes language used in an institutional setting.

150 Fisher-Yates calculations are known as ‘exact’ tests. This implies that its calculations do not include estimated frequencies. Only the observed frequencies of occurrence are used. Having two variables, there are 2x2 possible correlations between them, so any observation is considered as one of four possible correlations between form and genre. These four are compared with each other to see whether their ratio is different from the ratio between independent variables. Consider, for instance, the occurrence of oath vocatives in church songs. Fisher Yates tests compare the single observation of a high frequency to three other correlations, being 2. that this frequency is high in relation to the occurrence of oath vocatives in other genres, 3. that it is high in comparison to the occurrence of other forms in church songs and 4. high in comparison to the occurrence of other forms in other genres. If this ratio between the four is observed, a dependent relation between the two variables can be concluded: oath vocatives correlate with positive significance with church songs. Dependant relations between forms and genres can be observed from their consistent presence in a particular genre or their consistent absence. After the explanation of this statement in the preceding paragraph, I will now explain something about the probability (P) that the significant correlations result from co-incidence. Researchers who have observed a positive significance, may want to verify this with a test value that is smaller than 5%. In that case the significant correlations represent a chance of less than 5% to result from coincidence (P < 0.05). If a negative significance is verified, a similar test value is used, implying that less than 5% of all observed absences of forms in a genre are absent by coincidence. Only observations that occur in 95% of all cases are considered to result from a significant correlation form-genre. In theory however, forms may be either consistently present or absent in a genre. In, for instance, the genre of sermons, the absence of curses may be just as significant as the presence of a blessing formula. Researchers that have no (justified) expectations about the distinctions of language use in a language group can use a test value of 5% with a margin of 2.5% at two extreme ends. Only observations at the extreme ends (beyond the margin of 2.5%) are considered then. This excludes the chance that results represent coincidental relations. The probability that significant correlations result from chance is less than 5% or P <0.05, because the two sides are both considered.The use of two- sided margins implies a careful consideration of the possibility that significant correlations may occur at both extreme ends. In the case of Budu, language use variation had not been studied yet, so I started without assumptions about the distribution of forms over genres. To explore an unknown terrain, I worked with the conventional chance of P<0.01 that is used for unknown fields. I respected margins of 0.005 at the two extreme ends of the observed correlations. Only observations at the extreme ends (beyond the margin of 0.5%) were considered. This excludes the chance that results represent coincidental relations. The probability that significant correlations result from chance is less than 1% or P <0.01, because the the probabilities for occurrences in both extreme ends are summed. In relation to the results presented in table 5, this means that all cells with ‘1’ denote positively significant correlations between a genre and a form with a chance of 99% that the form occurs in the genre for a reason. Significant correlations represent observations at the extreme positive end with values within the 0.005 margin). Cells with ‘0’ denote negatively significant correlations between a genre and a form with a chance of 99% that the form is absent in the genre for a reason (the actual correlations all represent observations at the extreme negative end with values within the 0.005 margin so they range from 0.005 to 0). All the remaining correlations were considered as incidental occurrences. They were indicated with hyphens. Hyphens were used when variables have an independent relation to each other. Only dependent variables were considered as distinctions of language use in this research. Other correlations were not considered as significant distinctions of

151 language use variations. The chance that they would be recognised in unconventional and creative applications is not very high.1 Summarising this introduction the probability for results to represent incidental cases is negligible (P<0.01). Since this research concerns the creative use of language use, I chose to limit myself to results that are significant beyond any doubt. Therefore only correlations of chances between 0 and 0.05 were considered negatively significant and only correlations between 0.95 and 0.99 were considered positively significant. Remaining results represent insignificant occurrences. These results are insignificant in relation to chance. These represent incidental occurrences of forms in genres. This implies that the form may be used to some extent in texts representing the genre, its use is nevertheless considered insignificant to the correlation between form and genre.2 For expository reasons all correlations of 99% were denoted with 1 to indicate that their chance of occurrence is absolute. All correlations denoted with 0 indicate that the chance for a correlation between this form and that genre is absolutely absent or 0%. For a correlation matrix with the correlations expressed in four digits see appendix 5.F. It follows from the selected methodology that forms that occur significantly in each of the sixteen main genres consequently represent insignificant correlations. Forms with high frequencies of occurrence in the entire corpus are, similar to forms with negligible frequencies of occurrence, not significant for any genre in particular, because they have no role distinguishing any genre from other genres. By contrast, in the present methodology positively significant results represent frequencies that distinguish a genre from at least one other genre by their presence and negatively significant results represent frequencies that distinguish a genre from at least one other genre by their significant absence. Positively significant results do not, in themselves, represent high frequencies. The use of modal particles in embedded reproaches is a good example of this particular aspect of the calculations in the selected methodology. Reproaches consistently exhibit the use of one single modal particle. The particular form therefore is not used with high frequencies in this particular genre. Nevertheless Fisher Yates tests account for its invariable occurrence in the genre with the result that modal particles are significant for reproaches. See chapter 6 for the results of the mini-corpus with embedded speech genres. Consider table 5 for an overview of the results of ninety nine forms for the sixteen main genres. The leftmost column lists all forms because the focus in this research is on language use (vertically) facilitating a comparison of the number of correlations (total amount in rightmost column). The forms in this correlation matrix are listed in the same order as in table 4.3.

1The remaining correlations where the chance for mutual dependency form/genre varies from 0.06 to 0.94 were denoted with hyphens in table 5. 2Insignificant correlations indicate that the variables form and genre are independent from each other. However, the fact that the occurrence of a form can not be excluded in a genre may be significant for the complementary distributions in which its consistent absence plays a role. Table 5 Correlation Matrix with variables form (vertical) and genre (horizontal) in a 59,284 words corpus

S T O R Y N E W S W I S D O M INS S O N G S Ani Ghost Trick Parbl Pact Life Cultr Medi Prov Riddl Dram Wor Churc Party Circ Indiv pronouns 1 SG - - - - - 1 0 0 - - 1 - 1 - - - 5x 2 SG - - - - - 00---- -1- - - 3x 3 SG - - 1 - 1 - 0 0 - - 0 - - - - - 5x 1 PL - 0 0 - - -1---- -1- - - 4x 2 PL - - - - - 0----- 11- - - 3x 3 PL ------1---0--- - - 2x QUANTIFIER - - - - 0 - - 1 1 ------3x EMPHATIC PRN - - - - 1 - - 0 - - 0 0 1 - - - 5x INTERROG PRN ------0 - - 1 ------2x Verbal prefixes OBJ EXT PX 1 - 1 - - - 0 0 - 0 ------5x CONSECUT PX - - 0 - - -1---0--- - - 3x PER- 1 SG - - - - 0 10------3x FECT 2 SG - - - - - 0----1 --1 - - 3x PAST 3 SG 1 1 1 - 1 0- 0010 00- - - 11x 1 PL - 0 0 - - 1 1 0 - - - 0 - - - - 6x 2 PL ------1 --- - - 1x 3 PL - - - 0 - - 1 0 0 - 0 0 - - - - 6x PAST + jënê ------0x past + püngö ------1 --- - - 1x PRES 1 SG 0 - 0 - - -0---1-11 - - 6x IPF 2 SG - - - - - 00---11-1 - - 5x 3 SG - - 0 - 1 0 0 1 1 - - 0 - - - - 7x 1 PL - - - - 0 ------1- - - 2x 2 PL ------1- - - 1x 3 PL - - 0 ------1x IPF 1 SG ------0------1x FUT 2 SG - - - - - 00---01-- - - 4x 3 SG ------0 -1- - - 2x 1 PL - - - 1 ------1x 2 PL ------0x 3 PL ------1- - - 1x Lex Fut súo ------0x HAB1 SG ------0x 2 SG ------1-- - - 1x 3 SG ------0 -1- 1 - 3x 1 PL ------0x 2 PL ------0x 3 PL 1 ------1x Adverbial morphemes ADVERB ------1 - - 0 - - - - - 2x batá ‘again’ ------0x banî ‘like this’ ------1 - - - - - 0 - - - 2x tá ‘just’ ------0 - - - 1x tîa ‘now’ 0 - - - - - 1 0 0 - - - 0 - - - 5x kû ‘also’ - - - - 1 - - - - - 0 - - - - - 2x ti batá ------0x ’not again’ tîa kû ‘then’ ------0x títa ‘just now’ ------0x adhaangîakë’ ------0x Report. speech INF akösigio ------0 - - - - - 1x Applicative sigio ------0x Other sp. intro V ------0x INTR bö 1 ------0 - - - 0 - 0 0 5x SPCH ga - 1 1 - - - - 0 0 - 0 0 0 - - - 7x SUBORIDNAT ------0x % direct speech 23 23 24 30 24 8 6 5 1 18 (95)* 4 5 0 2 2 n.a. % Ind. speech 3 2 3 3 2 6 3 2 0 0.5 3 2 0 0 0 0 n.a. New words 2.6 2 2.5 2.5 2.7 3.2 2.5 2.9 2.8 2.4 2.2 3 2 1.9 1.2 2.4 n.a. % Funct. words 75 76.5 73 80.5 75.5 75 74 70 56 68 83 75.5 73.5 84 78.5 84 n.a. Ani Ghost Trick Par Pact Life Cultr Medi Prov Riddl Dram Wor Churc Party Circ Indiv Table 5 continued

S T O R Y N E W S W I S D O M INST S O N G S Ani Ghost Trick Parbl Pact Life Cultr Med Pro Riddl Dram work Churc party Circ Indiv i v Mood OPTATIVE 1 - - 1 - - 0 - - - - - 1 - 1 - 5x COND/ GER. - - 0 - - - 1 1 - - - - 0 - - - 4x PARTIC PAST - 1 - - - - 0 - - - 0 - - - - 1 4x IMPERATIVE 0 - - - 0 0 0 - - - - - 1 - - 1 6x ADV MITIGAT ------1 - - - - - 1x ADV EXHORT - - - 1 ------1 - - - - - 2x VERBAL NEG 0 ------1 ------2x MODAL AUX. ------1 - - 0 - - - - - 2x Aspect AUXILIARY - 1 1 ------1 0 - 0 - - - 5x INF Long - - - - - 1 - - - - 0 - 1 - - - 3x Short ------1 - 1 - - 0 - - - 3x Noun Phrase Morphology DETERMINER ------1 - 0 0 0 1 0 0 0 - 8x DET+ SHIFT ------1 - - - 0 - - - - - 2x ADIECTIVES ------1 1 ------2x PREPOSITION ------0x ASSOCIATIVE - - - - 1 - - 1 1 - 0 - - - - - 4x ADDTIVE nö - - 1 ------0 - - - - - 2x Temporally-connectives CON Coor ------1 - - - 0 - - - - - 2x Temp - - - - 1 - 1 - 0 - 0 - 0 - - - 5x LOGIC - 0 ------0 - - - - - 2x Modal - - 1 ------1x Negat ------0x Cohesive Devices Adv. temp. - 0 - 0 - 1 - 1 - - 0 - - 0 - - 6x Adv. locative - - - 0 - - 1 - 1 - 0 1 0 - - 0 7x ANAP.TEMP - 1 - - - - 1 0 0 - 0 - 0 - - - 6x ANAPHR LOC - - - - 1 - 1 0 0 - 0 - - - - 0 6x temporal –öö ------1 - - - 0 - 0 - - - 3x locative –ëë - 1 ------0 - - - - - 2x RESUMPTIVE - 1 ------1x Attention-getting devices Object Verb S. ------1 - - - 1x INT HAA ’no’ ------0 - - - 1 - - - - - 2x INT surprise ------1 - - - - - 1x INT íí/ oí ýes' ------1 1 - 2x NTERJ. húú ------1 1x INT. ínaa we ------0 ------1 1 1 4x VOCATIVE - 1 - - - 0 0 0 - - - - 1 1 - - 5x POLITE VOC - 0 0 1 0 - - 0 - - (1)* 0 1 - - - 6x OATH VOC ------1 - - - 1x Loan FR 0 0 0 0 0 - 0 - 0 - 1 0 0 - 0 0 12x Word SW 0 0 0 1 0 - 0 0 0 0 1 0 0 - 0 - 13x BA 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 - - 1 0 0 - - - 11x Code switching ------1 - - - - - 1x IDEOPHONE - 1 - - - - 0 - - - 0 - - 1 - 1 5x IDIOM. EXPR 1 - - - - 0 0 0 - 0 0 - - 1 - 7x A Ghos Tric Parbl Pact Life Cultr Med Pro Riddl Dram work Churc party Circ Indiv * Some forms occur consistently in the stage remarks in drama but not in its main text. See discussion of table 5.A and 5.E

5.1.1 Data Discussion 5.1.1.0 Introduction

In confirmation of the intuition of language users that they have a free choice expressing themselves, most forms in the table above exhibit no significant correlation with a particular situation of language use (genre). Most forms apparently can be used according to personal preference. Individual texts consequently exhibit incidental differences of form-frequencies. In the case where a form is incidentally used in the entire genre, no significant genre/form correlation can be established. And if all sixteen of the remaining genres exhibit the incidental use of a form, there apparently is no dependency between that form and any of the main genres. Such independent relation is denoted by the hyphens in this table. Most cells have hyphens. Cells with 0 represent cases where the use of a form can be excluded in a particular genre. These are cases of significant absence. The zero denotes in those cases that, in comparison to other genres of the corpus, the form involved has a frequency of occurrence that is significantly negative. Forms with zero occurrence in a genre therefore can be considered as absent in that genre. Forms without a distinctive distribution are denoted with hyphens. They exhibit an equally frequent use in any genre and consequently no particular correlation with any genre is denoted, since all genres exhibit a comparable use of the form. Seventeen forms in the table therefore have a hyphen in every row without one single exception,6 because the differences in frequencies are not genre related. Frequencies may incidentally vary in any text without distinguishing the genres in case of those eighteen forms. All sixteen genres of the researched corpus are presented in this overview of the distribution of 99 forms. Negatively significant correlations represent close to 10% of all genre/form correlations. Regarding the graphic presentation, this implies that each row on the average has between one and two cells with a 0, denoting that forms on the average are significantly absent in at least 1.5 of the sixteen genres of the corpus. Significant presence is represented by about 5% of the presented correlations. Regarding the overview this means that rows on the average have less than one cell with a 1 denoting that the average form has an absolute chance to occur in about one genre. The particular distribution of forms exhibits its unique properties. In the entire corpus only two sets of forms (representing 5% of the forms)7 exhibit an identical distribution of significant occurrences. It is evident at first glance that the distribution of all other forms presented in this table reflects considerable differences between the forms. For example, three of the forms are significantly absent in as much as ten or more genres (the loanwords).8 Next to loanwords five other forms are significantly absent in five genres each.9 One of these (the Perfect 3 SG) consistently occurs in five genres, while nine other forms are consistently used in as many as three genres.10 These most striking differences are indicative of the distinctive use of some forms.

6The amount of seventeen forms is composed of nine incidentally used and eight frequently used morpho- syntactic categories, as could be observed in qualitative analysis. The nine incidentally used forms are: the remote past with cliticjënê; the lexical Future with súo / sínaní; the habitual first person forms (SG and PL) and its second plural inflection; the inflected applicative sigio ‘to tell’; the negative temporally-connective sökömü ‘without;’ the adverbial expression adhaa ngîakë ‘to the extent that’ and the exclamation háá! ‘no.’ While eight common morpho-syntactic categories are: subordination; speech introducing verbs; the negative adverb ti batá ‘not again;’ adverb batá ‘again;’ temporal adverb tîakû ‘consequently;’ temporal adverb títa ‘just then’ and all prepositions ‘a;akö’ All these seventeen are represented by rows with hyphens in table 5.1A. 7Only three forms in table 5 exhibit an identical distribution of significant correlations: pronouns third person plural; determiners with topic shift and coordinating temporally-connectives consistently occur all three in drama and all three are significantly absent in cultural documentation. Modal auxiliaries and adverbs is another pair that has identical distribution: they significantly occur in medical information and lack in drama. 8Loanwords represent marked language use because of their foreign origin. Since they are not part of the language itself, loanwords seem to be ‘absent by default’ in almost two-thirds of the corpus while their occurrence can only be predicted in the genres that reflect acculturation (parables& pulpit speech reflect the religious institutions where Swahili is spoken). Drama, in its caricature dialogues, presents the establishments of church; school (French); and army (Bangala). 9These highly distinctive forms are the third person (SG and PL) of the Perfect Verb, the petrified speech introducing ga ‘say,’ the determiner and the polite vocative. 10These six frequently used forms are: the pronoun 1 SG; Imperfect (Present) 1, 2 and 3 SG +pêngë; the optative; auxiliary verbs; associative markers; locative adverbials and the exclamation of despair ínaa we!

155 Observations regarding table 5 seem to justify the conclusion that the distribution of forms over genres is not arbitrary. Although most forms in most genres can be used with varying frequencies, depending on the preference of the language user, the amount of significant frequencies of some forms indicates their highly distinctive function in communication. The distinctive function of a form is partly related to its semantic and grammatical properties. Next to these inherent properties, some properties emerge only in language use when the conventions in a specific situation are manifest in texts. Clusters may clarify what a form seems to express by predictable co-occurrences (with other forms). To investigate the language-specific properties of forms, all particularities in distribution need to be investigated methodically. In the following paragraphs, each row in the table will be discussed. In the following section the clusters of co-occurrence that can be observed in this distribution are presented (5.2.1 – 5.2.6).

5.1.1.1 Personal Pronouns

Singular pronouns occur in most genres except for news genres (masaü), although first singular pronouns consistently occur in life stories. Plural pronouns are only absent in story genres. Third person pronouns are missing in drama. See table 3.16 for an overview of pronouns and 4.2.1 for their tagging. Singular first person pronouns are predictable in life stories (like Perfect 1 SG), whereas the plural (like Perfect 1 PL), consistently occurs in cultural documentation. Furthermore first person singular pronouns consistently occur in drama and in church songs. Both singular and plural first person pronouns occur consistently in church songs (similar to second person pronouns). The first person plural is missing in ghost stories and in trickster stories (similar to any first person (PL) Perfect). Medical information likewise lacks first Perfect plural forms and first singular pronouns. The pronoun first person singular, like inflected verbs (1 SG)11 consistently is not found in cultural documentation. The second person pronoun plural occurs in work orders (like the habitual 2 SG). Second person plural pronouns not only consistently occur in work orders, but also in church songs, unlike the second singular pronoun that only occurs in church songs. Singular and plural pronouns are significantly absent in life stories (like most second person verb- inflections). Singular pronouns are also absent in cultural information. Third person pronouns (like Perfect 3SG) consistently occur in trickster stories and pact stories. In contrast to singular forms, plural forms of the third person consistently occur in cultural information (like the Perfect 3 PL). Quantifying pronouns and other Person Anaphora are (like adjectives, associative constructions and adverbs) significant for medical information and proverbs. Quantifiers incidentally occur in the entire corpus (like adjectives), but are significantly fewer in pact stories. Some rare person Anaphora that do not indicate quantifying information were also tagged in the umbrella category of ‘quantifying’ pronouns (see section 3.4.6.5). Emphatic pronouns are significantly used in pact stories (in contrast to quantifiers) and in church songs. Their absence is predictable in drama, medical information and in work orders. Interrogative pronouns occur consistently in riddles (like the short infinitive).Their absence is significant for cultural information (similar to the absence of all singular pronouns).

11 Forms of the Habitual Verb first person are too incidental to make the difference between genres.

156

5.1.1.2 Verbal Prefixes

The Object Prefix consistently occurs in trickster- and animal stories (see table 3.15 for an overview). Object Prefixes are not found in riddles and in cultural information and in medical information The Consecutive Prefix is significant for cultural documentation (like first and third person plural of the Perfect). It occurs in Perfect forms (see section 3.5.2.3) and therefore (like the Perfect first person plural), it is significantly missing in trickster stories. Absence of the Consecutive Prefix is significant for drama. Most Perfect forms are significantly absent in at least two of the sixteen genres, while only in a quarter of the corpus any bare Perfect form can be used (in three quarter of the corpus some of the Perfect forms are excluded). Not included in this observation are Consecutive and Lexcal Past forms, which based on Perfect inflection (see the sections 3.5.2.2 and 3). The tagging of verbal prefixes is described in section 4.2.3. First person plurals of the Perfect are significant for cultural information. In addition Perfect first plurals consistently occur in life stories (like Perfect (1 SG). The absence of Perfect first person plurals is significant for medical information or work orders. First singulars are consistently absent in pact stories and cultural documentation. Second person Perfect singulars (like Imperfect) are significant for drama and party songs, while the second plural consistently occurs in drama. Absence of the second person Perfect singular (like that of the Imperfect present) is significant for life stories. Third person singulars of the Perfect consistently occur in most story genres, namely in animal stories, ghost stories, trickster stories, pact stories and riddles. In contrast first plurals of the Perfect (like the first plural pronoun) are consistently absent in ghost- and trickster stories. Absence of the third person singular is significant for life stories, medical information proverbs, drama and work orders. Third plural Perfect forms consistently occur in cultural information. The Perfect third person (both SG and PL) is significantly absent in medical information and work orders (like the Perfect first plural). The third person Perfect plural is significantly absent in parables, medical information, church songs, proverbs, drama and work orders. Lexical Remote Past with cliticjënê occurs too infrequently to render quantifiable results. The immediate lexical past with püngö (see table 3.29) is significant for drama. Imperfect Present first singular forms are significant for church songs. Together with second person (SG) forms, first singular forms occur consistently in drama- and party songs. The absence of Present Tense Imperfect forms (1 and 3 SG) is significant for trickster stories and cultural information. First singular forms furthermore never appear in animal stories (like adverbial clitic tîa ‘now’; ‘then; at that moment). The absence of second person singular forms is significant for life stories and cultural information. The third person singular is significant in pact stories, in medical information and in proverbs, while its absence is significant for work orders, life stories, cultural information and trickster stories. Absence of the Imperfect first singular is significant for pact stories (similar to the absence of Imperfect present Plural forms). The first and second plural Imperfect present is significant for church songs. The third person plural is significantly absent in trickster stories. For an overview of these forms see table 3.27.

157 Imperfect Future forms occur significantly in four-fifths of the corpus. These forms are used less distinctively than Perfect and Present Imperfect forms. Only in drama, life stories and cultural information some forms are significantly absent. First and second person singularsare significantly absent in cultural information (like first singular pronouns). Second singular forms are significant for work orders while being significantly absent from drama and life stories. Third person forms (both SG and PL) consistently occur in church songs (like the Habitual 3 SG). First person plurals occur consistently in the church context in the genres of parables& other pulpit speech too. The second person plural occurs too infrequently to be quantifiable. Lexical future forms occur too seldom to render quantifiable material. Habitual forms are derived from Imperfect forms and occur only rarely. For the forms see section 3.5.2.7 and 8 and for their tagging see section 4.2.3. Habituals of the first singular and habituals of first and second plural are not quantifiable. Habitual second singulars are significant for work orders (like the Imperfect present 2 SG). Third singulars of the Habitual (like first Imperfect) consistently occur in church songs; and also are used in another institutional genre, namely in circumcision songs, while their absence is significant for drama. Third plurals of the Habitual consistently occur in animal stories (like third Perfect SG).

5.1.1.3 Adverbs and Adverbial Morphemes

Adverbs are significant for medical information and occur with highly varying yet insignificant frequencies in the rest of the corpus, except for in drama, where their occurrence can be excluded. Not all adverbial morphemes render quantifiable results (for an overview of adverbial morphemes see table 3.33). The expression adhaa ngîakë ’to the extent that’ can not be compared with other adverbs although it functions like an adverb. It occurs only rarely. In contrast, the adverbs batá ‘again;’ temporal adverb tîakû ‘consequently;’ temporal adverb títa ‘just then’ and the negative adverb ti batá ‘not again;’ occur across all genres in the entire corpus. The remaining adverbs exhibit significant differences in their occurrences. Two of them, namely banî ‘accordingly’ and tîa ‘now’ are significant for cultural documentation. They are significantly absent in church songs, like the adverb tá ‘just.’ Adverbial clitic kû ‘indeed; also; too’ (recurrence marker) is predictable in the highly recursive genre of pact stories while it is significantly missing in drama. Adverbial clitic tîa ‘now’ is not only significantly absent from animal stories, it also is consistently missing in medical information, proverbs and in church songs. Adverbial morphology has a relatively large amount of incidentally used forms. In contrast syntactic TMA distinctions are used distinctively of certain dimensions of communication. Most default (adverbial) TMA markers occur, as expected without respect to genre.

158 5.1.1.4 Reported Speech

The use of reported speech is highly distinctive between main genres in the corpus. Reported speech in Budu can consist of either direct or indirect speech (see appendix 5.B). Half of the corpus represents texts that consist of at least 9 % reported speech12 while at least one quarter of the genres contains more than 25% reported speech. Story genres are distinguished by as much as 23% direct speech. Reported speech plays an important role in Budu language use. Its distinctive role in the presentation of Events is one of the reasons to include a special research with all embedded speech genres (chapter 6). See section 4.2.7. for an overview of the elements that were tagged. The speech introducing infinitive sigio ‘to tell’ occurs in the entire corpus with exception of drama, while petrified speech introducer GA is consistently used in longer story genres (ghost stories and trickster stories). GA is consistently not found in drama, and in all genres with less than 9% reported speech (medical information, work orders, proverbs and church songs), while speech introducer bö is only significantly absent in the last two. Furthermore bö is consistently absent in circumcisions songs and in individual songs. Note that bö is absent in most (four out of five) genres that lack indirect speech. The applicative sigio and other speech introducing verbs occur too infrequently to distinguish any genre.

5.1.1.5 Average Amount of New Words

The average amount of new words per clause (a variation on the indication of lexical density)13 is the highest in life stories and work orders with at least three new words per clause. In contrast the highly repetitive circumcision songs with their invariable idiomatic expressions represent the lowest amount, followed by the other group-song genre ‘party songs,’ due to the use of (lexical) repetition in the choruses that facilitate group participation. In these song genres (and in ghost stories with an equally low amount of new words per clause) the total amount of new words per clause is two on the average. In many cases the comparable index of a high lexical density correlates with a low percentage of function words (articles, auxiliaries, copula, modals and prepositions). This was observed for English by Buthiaux (2005:138) and by Biber and Finegan (1994:337), for instance, (with reference to Halliday 1989). The Budu genres life stories and work orders, exhibit, due to their explicit nature, a high average amount of content words per clause. Consequently they do not have the highest amount of function words per clause. The genres of riddles, ghost stories and cultural documentation (including genealogies) also have a relatively high amount of content words with a only a few new words per clause, since these genres all exhibit a significant use of repetition and variation (parallelisms). The highest percentage of content words is represented by proverbs, a genre with hardly any repetition. The genre consists of one- liners, and therefore its average amount of new words per clause is relatively high.

12 Drama consists by default of speech (95%), while the remaining 5% consists of 4% indications of the different roles in the play and of only 1% other stage remarks. In the stage remarks the use of polite vocatives is used to indicate the role of ‘sir’ and ‘mistress.’ I took the freedom to neglect these stage remarks. This implies that I did not count polite vocatives among the features that characterise language used in drama. 13 Stubbs (1996:76ff) mentions the type-token ration as a distinctive genre feature: “In general, measures of richness of vocabulary, such as lexical density, provide a robust method of distinguishing genres.”

159 5.1.1.6 Mood

Optative Mood occurs on Perfect inflection (see section 3.5.2.11.2) and is significantly used in four genres: parables& pulpit speech, animal stories (cf. Habituals of 3 PL), church songs and circumcision songs (those two genres also have Habitual 3 SG forms), while optative mood is consistently absent from cultural documentation. Conditionals are subordinated verb forms that can function as gerunds (see section 3.5.2.11.1). They consistently occur in cultural documentation and in medical information but are not found in church songs and in trickster stories. Modal auxiliaries (see section 4.2.4) and past Participles do not occur in drama. Past Participles (see section 3.5.1.4) represent the only modal form with significant occurrence in ghost stories and in individual songs. Furthermore the past Participle is consistently missing in cultural documentation. The Imperative (see section 3.5.2.0) is significant for church- and individual songs, animal-, pact- and life stories and in cultural documentation. Adverbial mitigation and exhortation (see section 3.5.5.3 for examples) are significantly used in drama. On top of that, adverbial exhortation also consistently occurs in parables& other pulpit speech. Verbal negation (see table 3.31) occurs significantly in proverbs, and (like Imperatives) is not found in animal stories.

5.1.1.7 Aspect

Auxiliaries are significant for riddles, and for ghost- and trickster stories while their absence is significant for drama and church songs. Auxiliaries are often used in combination with short infinitives Consequently both are significant for riddles whereas both are not found in church songs. Short infinitives also are significant for medical information. In contrast, long infinitives indicate progressive action (see section 3.5.2.4) and consistently occur in church songs, reflecting an obvious difference of function between the two infinitival forms. Long infinitives also occur in life stories and, like the long infinitive akosigio ‘to tell’ they significantly are not found in drama.

5.1.1.8 Noun Phrase Morphology

Determiners (for their form see the tables 3.12 and 13 and for their function see the discussed examples under table 3.23) consistently occur (like determiners with Topic shift markers), in cultural documentation while they occur insignificantly in drama. This distribution is shared by coordinating connectives and pronouns of the third person plural. Like coordinators, determiners that are referring to given information are consequently used to connect clauses. Their significant absence in genres with many isolated statements (riddles, party songs, circumcision songs, proverbs and church songs) is therefore not surprising. (For the tagging of coordinative connectives see section 4.2.8). Temporally-connectives consistently occur in cultural documentation and pact stories. Their absence in significant for proverbs, church songs and drama . Associative markers and adjectives share a significant use in both medical information and proverbs (similar to adverbs that are used infrequently in proverbs but consistently in medical

160 information). For their form see section 3.4.6. Associative constructions and adjectives both occur consistently in proverbs. Unlike adjectives and associative markers, most categories of the noun phrase morphology are significantly absent in drama, except prepositions. The noun phrase morphology therefore primarily represents incidentally used categories. Additives are significant for trickster stories, like object prefixes (both for emphasis). Like three other elements of the noun phrase morphology, additives are significantly absent in drama. See section 4.2.8 for the difference between additives and coordinative connectives.

5.1.1.9 Connectives

Negative connective sókomu ‘without’ (followed by a Verbal Phrase) is used in the entire corpus, however, not to an extent that genres can be compared regarding the use of this form. Logical connectives are consistently missing in ghost stories and in drama. Modal connectives are significant only in trickster stories. See the last part of section 4.2.6 for a discussion of all tagged connectives.

5.1.1.10 Cohesive Devices

Four out of the seven tagged cohesive devices are used in a very distinctive manner, being absent in one quarter of the genres while being consistently present in other genres. Most cohesive devices occur significantly in cultural documentation and all except one are significant for ghost stories, while none of them is significant in drama. Three of them are significantly absent in church songs. Adverbial phrases, whether temporal or locative in nature, are (together with gerunds) significantly used in medical information to describe cases (in light of the significant use of temporal adverbials in medical information, it is noteworthy that nevertheless temporal anaphora are significantly absent in this genre). Locative adverbials are used significantly in work orders and also in proverbs and cultural documentation. Temporal adverbials are consistently present in the retrospective life stories. Temporal and locative adverbials are significantly absent in parables& other pulpit speech and also are absent in drama. Additionally locative adverbials are not found in church- and individual songs, while the absence of temporal adverbials is significant for ghost stories and party songs. Anaphora occur with predictable significance in cultural documentation while only temporal anaphora (in contrast to temporal adverbials) are significant for ghost stories and locative anaphora for pact stories. Relative locative clauses (with the affix –ëë) occur consistently in ghost stories, similar to markers of resumption. Their use in the rest of the corpus is not exceptional. Relative clause markers (with the affix– öö) consistently occur in cultural documentation, similar to temporal anaphora. Like the relative locative clause (with the affix–ëë) they are never found in drama. This automatically follows from the use of anaphora as the antecedents of relative clauses. Relative temporal clauses with affix – öö are predictably absent in church songs (like anaphora). This can be explained from the high percentage of content words in this verbally un-structured genre that contains lexical indications of time and manner instead of anaphoric references. Church songs derive their structure from their liturgical setting and from the choruses (repetition) with melody, which also explains the small amount of relative clauses occurring in the genre. For more information about adverbial phrases see the sections 4.2.6 and 3.5.3.2).

161 Resumptive markers are the only cohesive device that occurs occasionally throughout the corpus. Most cohesion markers are significant for story genres and genealogies (a subgenre of cultural documentation).

5.1.1.11 Attention-getting Devices

Most linguistic elements that are used to draw the addressee’s attention are used significantly in song genres (see section 4.2.9. for an overview). Therefore, it is noteworthy that only vocatives (ghost stories), polite vocatives (parables& other pulpit speech) and Swahili loanwords (parables& other pulpit speech as well) are also significantly used outside song genres. Vocatives are consistently absent from cultural information, life stories and, as with polite vocatives, from medical information. Vocatives consistently occur in church songs and party songs (next to their significant use in ghost stories, just mentioned). In contrast to vocatives, polite vocatives are significantly absent in ghost stories, trickster stories, pact stories and in work orders. The polite vocatives that occur in drama all occur in stage remarks. They were therefore not included in the interpretation of results (they therefore occur between brackets in table 5). All vocatives are significant for church songs. Together with circumcision songs this genre represents the only song genre where loanwords are occasionally used. In church songs none of the three languages of wider communication is used significantly.14 Code Switching, implies the frequent use of loanwords from three languages of wider communication. This is only significant for drama, with its caricatures of language used by soldiers (Lingala); pastors (Swahili) and teachers (French). Likewise the interjection haa ‘no’ is (just like the exclamation of surprise) significant for drama only, whereas this interjection is never found in cultural information. Whereas various attention-getting devices (five out of twelve) are only occasionally used in all genres, there are some forms that occur with significant frequencies in party songs and in circumcision songs. These are exclamations like ínaa we (exclamation of despair) and húú (indignation). The last exclamation, together with the interjection oí ‘yes’ is significant only for individual songs. Ideophones consistently occur in individual songs and in party songs. Also, they occur, like vocatives, in ghost stories. Ideophones are rarely found in drama and in cultural documentation (like idiomatic expressions). Idiomatic expressions are normally found in circumcision songs and in animal stories while they are missing in cultural information, exhibiting a distribution that is very similar to optatives. In contrast to optatives idioms are not normally found in medical information, while they are also rarely found in proverbs (like polite vocatives). Attention-getting devices are highly distinctive of genre as a category. Other groups of morpho- syntactic categories are less homogeneous in their distribution. While the group of cohesive devices seems to distinguish the genres with temporally-connective presentation by their use (cultural documentation included), the group of attention-getting devices seems to be distinctively used in songs.

14 For church songs this can be explained by the existence of songbooks in the different languages Swahili and Budu. These apparently regulate code-switching in a predictable way (only Budu songs are sung during the Budu gatherings in small villages, (Gottschlich field interviews 1996).

162

5.1.2 Conclusion about Obtained Correlation Matrix with Results

The distribution of the tagged forms in the researched corpus exhibits some tendencies. Attention- getting devices seem to be used in celebratory interaction while cohesive devices seem to be used for the narrative presentation of temporal sequences. Most cohesive devices indicate the time or place of an event, in a chronologically ordered presentation. Various cohesive devices seem to have in common that they provide cohesion between temporal sequences. In contrast, reported speech- expressions seem to have no shared function, at least not one that can be explained from their inherent properties. A culturally-specific relation between the use of reported speech and narrative presentation needs to be investigated to interpret its emerging properties in Budu; see Appendix 5.B. Two other groups of forms with a shared distribution can be observed. Unlike the first mentioned groups, these forms come from different categories in table 5. First, there are the forms that directly mention the second person present in the context of production, the addressee, whether they are inflections of the verb, pronouns or vocatives. All these appeals to the addressee reflect interactive communication. Second, there are particular forms that are apparently frequently used in institutional settings: optatives, habitual forms and idiomatic expressions co-occur in genres with an institutional setting (church songs, parables& pulpit speech, circumcision songs and apparently animal stories). All these forms with their shared distribution reflect institutional communication because of some shared properties. At this point the conclusion can be drawn, that next to forms with implicit, inherent properties, such as cohesive devices and interactive second person forms, there seems to be a second group of forms with properties that only emerge because of their co-occurrences. Since clusters of co-occurrence consist of various forms, the forms that directly reflect dimensions of communication may clarify the emerging properties of forms with the same distribution. It seems worth-while to explore systematically all major clusters of co-occurrence in Budu to discover the culturally-specific dimensions of communication that are manifest in language use, at least in the researched corpus. After a first investigation of the shared function of a cluster of forms, an interpretation of the operational function of co-occurrences is presented in section 5.3. The culturally-specific use of some forms will be discussed in detail in the appendices 5.B to 5.E.

5.2 Discussion of Results: Clusters of Co-occurrence in Language Use

In table 5, all linguistic forms and genres were listed as in table 4.3. However, the same correlations can also be rearranged in an attempt to exhibit similarities in the distribution. In section 5.2, six selections of the forms in the correlation matrix are presented. The resulting six sub-tables display the six major clusters of co-occurrences and their complementary distribution as observed in Budu language use. Each cluster of co-occurrence has a maximum amount of forms with shared distribution over all sixteen genres of the corpus.15 A separate table visualises the distribution of each of the six clusters.

15Various results in table 5 have shared distributions. I compared various selections of forms to obtain clusters of at least ten features that exhibit a complementary distribution. While I only used selecions of forms with a complete sharing of relative chances of occurrence, I disregarded selections of forms that had less than 20% absolute chances of co-occurrence. The sixth cluster has for example 38 absolute co-occurrences out of 160

163 To facilitate a comparison of distributions of these six clusters, all positive correlations are arranged on the right side with all negative correlations on the opposite side. The results are six displays with contrasted ‘genres-with-significantly-negative,’ vs. ‘genres-with-significantly-positive correlations.’ In these contrasted sets all cells with hyphens denote the neutral genre/form correlations. In this binary presentation, the cells with hyphen on the ‘positive’ side are interpreted as results that never have a significant absence of the particular form in the particular genre. On the negative side all hyphens are interpreted to say that the particular form never is significantly used in the particular genre, although the form may occur occasionally . Since, in both cases, the actual frequencies are insignificant, they never contradict the displayed complementary distribution. This allows for a binary presentation and for the assumption that a contrast is manifest in the distinguished sets of genres. In the next six overviews of shared distributions, all forms that are listed in one table belong to one cluster. The list is placed between all negative correlations (left) and all positive correlations (at the right). This visualisation emphasises the contrast between two distinguished ends of one dimension of language use. The group of genres at the right side in the following tables represents a positive distinction. At the left side a negative distinction is presented. Every overview in the next section represents a different contrast, reflecting the following six dimensions of communication in Budu language use, where the functional interpretation depends on the function shared by most forms in a cluster of forms, as will be explained in the relevant sections:

Dimension 1. (temporally-connective vs. non-temp.connect. ) presentation of events; table 5.A Dimension 2. (explicit versus implicit) expression of information; table 5.B Dimension 3. (directive versus non-directive) communication of an appeal: table 5.C Dimension 4. involvement of the community (vs. expression without community involv) table 5.D Dimension 5. (spontaneous production versus prepared) production; table 5.E Dimension 6. performative versus non-performative use of language . table 5.F

Every selection of the correlation matrix is numbered with a letter from A-F. Since these sub-tables all present different dimensions of language use variations reflecting communication, each selection has a different set of genres on its negative side and on its positive side. The temporally-connective dimension, for instance, is manifested in narrative genres as opposed to songs and proverbs. Therefore stories are on one side of the distribution-overview and songs on the opposite side. Yet some stories also express community-involved expression, like all song types. The dimension of community involvement is manifest in these story genres and in all song genres. In table 5.D, songs and stories therefore are on one side and the non-community-involved genres with individual expression on the opposite side. The sub-tables 5.A - F are presented in the order of importance. The contrast that is supported by the most correlations is presented first. It concerns 84 significant correlations. The amount of correlations of a cluster determines its importance as distinction that is manifest in Budu language use. It consequently determines the order of the sections under 5.2. Section 5.2 first discusses the most important dimension, then the second-important dimension and so on, until all six dimensions are discussed. Only forms that exhibit a complementary distribution are included in the sum total of correlations. The rightmost column of the sub-tables with double capital (5.AA- 5.FF) show sum total of significant correlations in each row. Genre markers only occur with significance in one or two genres while they are occasionally used in the entire corpus. They were not included in calculations of the

correlations, which is slightly under 25% absolute chance for the cluster to actually co-occur in any sample of the corpus. With relative chances of occurrence I refer to the following two chances: The chance that a form denoted by a hyphen is not absent in a field with positively significant correlations (cells with 1) and the chance that a form denoted by a hypen is not present in a field with negatively significant correlations (cells with 0). In the selected clusters these relative chances (relative to the absolute chances) are completely shared by all forms (there is no 1 in a field with 0 and there is no 0 in a field with 1).

164 importance of a cluster because they represent no complementary distribution. Such forms are called ‘genre markers’ since their frequency characterises the involved genre(s) rather then a particular dimension of communication. For the sake of completeness, these forms with only one significantly positive/negative correlation are nevertheless included in the displays, but only if they represent extreme ends of the table.

5.2.1 Budu First Dimension: Presentation of Events

The most important dimension of language use variation in Budu appears to be determined by the presentation of events, as I will attempt to explain in the course of this section. The core forms co-occur in the set of genres at the top-right side of a sub-table. At first sight the contrast between the two sets of genres seems to be one between stories and songs. Consider table 5.A, that lists various forms that co-occur in narrative genres. Story genres are represented at the (top-) right side, the opposite end of ‘dimension 1’ is reflected in the various song genres presented on the (top-) left side. Apparently some forms that are used in songs exhibit a mutually exclusive distribution with forms occurring in stories. First and second person forms occur with significance in songs, while these forms apparently are significantly absent in most narrative texts.16 One could say that first and second person forms of the Imperfect also characterise stories. They nevertheless function as negative distinctions of the presentation of events. These forms are consistently absent in most story genres (at the right side of the following overview):

16To determine the significant use of a form in a genre, the entire text representing that genre was considered as the basic unity of the corpus research, including the dialogues representing embedded speech genres. Genres with narrative language use nearly all contain recurring embedded speech genres with non-temporally- connective (interactive) speech. See chapter 6 for forms that distinguish embedded speech genres. This chapter also contains speech excerpts illustrating the contrast between narrative language use and reported speech in the embeddings.

165

Table 5.A first selection of the correlation matrix with the largest shared distribution including forms with reverse distribution over same genres (lower half of the table)

Traditional songs Traditional stories dram churc prov med work party indiv circ parbl riddl Life anim ghos trick pact cultr 0 0 0 0 0 - - - - Speech intro GA - - - 1 1 - - 0 - 0 0 0 - - - 0 PERFECT 3 PL ------1 0 - 0 0 - - 0 - - LOC ANAPH - - - - - 1 1 0 0 0 0 - - - - - TEMP ANAPH - - - 1 - - 1 - 0 0 - - - 0 0 - Speech intro bö - - 1 - - - - 0 0 ------AUXILIARY 1 - - 1 1 - - 0 0 0 ------Temp CON - - - - - 1 1 0 0 ------Rel. cl. –öö ------1 0 ------Rel. cl. –ëë - - - 1 - - - - 0 ------Compar. Banî ------1 0 ------Adv clitic kû - - - - - 1 - 0 ------Additive nö - - - - 1 - - 0 ------Det topic shift ------1 0 ------Coorconnective ------1 0 ------Pronouns 3 PL ------1 ------IPF FUT 1 SG ------1 ------Mod. connect. - - - - 1 - -

(1)* 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 - Rep sp < 9 % ------1 1 - - - 1 - - - IPF PR 1 SG - - 0 - 0 - 0 1 - - - 1 1 - - - IPF PR 2 SG - 0 - - - - 0 - - - - - 1 1 1 - Excl. ínaa we ------0 1 - - - - 1 - - - Perfect 2 SG - 0 ------1 1 - - - - - Quantifier - - - - - 0 - - 1 ------Pronoun 2 SG - 0 - - - - 0 - 1 - - 1 - - - - Pronoun 2 PL - 0 ------1 ------IPF PR 1 PL - - - - - 0 - - - 1 1 - - - - - Attrib. adject. ------1 ------IPF FUT 3 PL ------1 ------Mitigation ------1 ------1 Exhortation ------1 ------Oath vocative ------

Table 5.A has a top part and a lower part, which is separated from the top part by an empty row. The top part lists all positive members of this main cluster of co-occurrence, the lower part its negative members. The cluster of nine forms in the lower part exhibits a distribution over the same groups of genres as the forms listed in the top part. However, the lower-part distribution is in the opposite direction. The top forms share a distribution with the lower forms. Like the top list of forms, the lower list also includes genre markers, as explained at the end of the introduction of 5.2. The first row in the lower part has a special feature. It can be read as “reported speech less than 9%.” Like the hyphens in other rows, the hyphens in this row denote ‘incidental’ occurrence of reported speech, varying in this case between 9 and 30 %. Only genres in which reported speech (indirect and direct speech taken together) were less than 9% were included in the ‘absolute correlations’ denoted with 1. The nature of this correlation is different from other correlations.17 Furthermore the occurrence of speech that is indicated as ‘reported’ in drama is 98% if the stage remarks (mostly names followed by a colon) are considered as speech introducers, as indicated underneath table 5. Without these stage remarks, the reported speech is only 3% (indirect speech). The co-occurrence of the listed forms is established on their complementary distribution. Some forms share significant frequencies in particular genres, e.g. the story genres of the corpus. Forms never occur significantly in the whole corpus. The first cluster lists forms that are distinctive of narrative genres, but that do not occur in songs. Since on top of this, the same forms also co-occur by their

17Since this feature is relative feature (a percentage), the opposite of ‘less than 9 %’ does not exist. This is why there are no genres with negatively significant correlation in this row (no 0). This is also why parables with 30% reported speech could be included on the left side of the table.

166 significant absence in another set of genres, e.g. the song genres of the corpus, they share a complementary distribution in the researched corpus. This shared complementary distribution leads to the establishing of a cluster of co-occurrence, like other clusters that are explained in this chapter. For each cluster that can be observed, its complementary distribution is related to an assumed shared function of the listed forms. In this first cluster forms apparently mark narrative genres for an aspect of communication that, later in this chapter in section in 5.2.1.2., is interpreted as temporally- connective presentation. Non-narrative genres are marked for the opposite, namely for their non- temporally-connective presentation. This particular dimension of communication, which is called ‘the first dimension’ here, follows from the shared function that the listed forms have because of their co- occurrence. The labelling of six various dimensions of variation follows from the respective complementary distributions involved. Each distribution is interpreted for the function most common shared by its forms, as presented in the sections numbered 2 in 5.2.1-6. The cluster’s forms are listed in order of importance. Forms occur higher in the list when more correlations contribute to the contrast, which they distinguish. Use of the speech introducing GA, for instance, is more important, considering its significance in several storytelling genres, than modal connectives are, which are significant in trickster stories only. It therefore is listed higher in the top half list of forms. The same principle was applied for the lower part of 5.A: these forms exhibit a complementary distribution in the other direction. They are also listed from the most important (top row) to the least important (last row). For instance the occurrence of less than 9 % reported speech is a more important contribution to the distinction between temporally-connective and non-temporally-connective language than the use of oath vocatives or quantifiers. Neither the selection nor the order of the forms listed in selection A – F is free, as a systematic presentation of the clusters of co-occurrence clarifies. In order to facilitate the discussion, a more specific version of table 5.A is now presented as 5.AA, prior to a detailed discussion of the middle row in particular (presented as 5.AAA). The discussion of particular details in the sub-tables B – F will be discussed in like manner. An account of the order of contrasted genres can be found in each section under the Table labelled with: Capital; Capital. An account of the order of distinguishing forms is presented under the Table labelled with: Capital; Capital; Capital. In relation to the tables labelled triple Capital, sections with detailed discussions are included in the appendices for readers who are interested in linguistics.

5.2.1.1 Overview of Distinctive Features of the First Dimension

For expository reasons table 5.A is repeated here without genre markers.18 Since reported speech is used as distinction in the first dimension, it is one its features. For expository reasons all forms relating to reported speech are therefore printed in bold. Another characteristic seems to be of a different nature: all expressions of cohesion in italics:

18 Attributive adjectives exceptionally represent a genre marker with more than one negatively significant correlation. It is included in 5.AA because the noteworthy lack of any significantly used adjectives in storytelling. See for its analysis the discussion on the use of reported speech in the appendix 5.B.

167 table 5.AA dimension of temporally-connective presentation of events dram churc prov med work party indiv circ parbl riddl anim life ghos trick Pact cultr 0 0 0 0 0 - - - - Spch intr GA - - - 1 1 - - 7 0 - 0 0 0 - - - 0 Perfect 3 PL ------1 6 0 0 0 0 - - - - - TEMP ANAPH - - - 1 - - 1 6 0 - 0 0 - - 0 - - LOC ANAPH - - - - - 1 1 6 - 0 0 - - - 0 0 - Spch intro bö - 1 - - 1 - - 5 0 0 ------AUXILIARY 1 - - 1 - - 1 5 0 0 0 ------Temp Connect. - - - - - 1 1 5 0 0 ------Rel. cl. –öö ------1 3 0 ------Rel. cl. –ëë - - - 1 - - - 2 - 0 ------Compar. banî ------1 2 0 ------Adv clitic kû - - - - - 1 - 2 0 ------Additive nö - - - - 1 - - 2 0 ------Det+ topic shift ------1 2 0 ------Coor con. ------1 2 0 ------Pronouns 3 PL ------1 2

1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 - Rep sp < 9 % ------8 1 1 - - - 1 - - - IPF PR 1 SG - 0 - - 0 - 0 6 1 - - - 1 1 - - - IPF PR 2 SG - - 0 - - - 0 5 - - - - - 1 1 1 - Excl. ínaa we ------0 4 1 - - - - 1 - - - Perfect 2 SG - - 0 - - - - 3 - - 1 1 - - - - - Quantifier - - - - - 0 - 3 - 1 ------Pronoun 2 SG - - 0 - - - 0 3 - 1 - - 1 - - - - Pronoun 2 PL - - 0 - - - - 3 - 1 ------IPF PR 1 PL - - - - - 0 - 2 17 12 8 6 5 5 4 3 1 1 2 4 4 4 5 14

The rightmost column of table 5.AA lists the sum total of correlations with absolute significance. The order of forms listed in table 5.AA is not arbitrary. It is related to the sum total of absolutely significant correlations.19 Also the genres are listed in order of their importance in dimension 1. One extreme end of the dimension consists of cultural documentation. More than half the amount of features of dimension 1 is absolutely predictable in this genre. The opposite extreme end is represented by drama. In this negatively distinguished genre, seventeen of the twenty four features are absolutely predictable in the reverse sense. Also church songs are typical for communication that is negatively distinguished for the first dimension. This genre exhibits a significant occurrence of twelve distinctions. The extreme ends of the table present the genres with most distinctions, whether positive or negative. Genres with ‘only’ three or less predictable correlations represent the four least distinguished genres in dimension 1: circumcision songs, parables& other pulpit speech and riddles. Riddles include short stories. This category nevertheless contains a too fragmented a presentation, interrupted by too many riddle-questions to qualify as a genre that has outspoken dimension 1 features. However, none of the positive dimension 1 features either is significantly absent in riddles. Because, on top of this, none of its negative features is significantly used in riddles, riddles apparently are distinguished like other story genres. The genres in the middle of the table represent the least distinguished language use.

19Attributive adjectives are not included in the sum-total of significant occurrences since they represent a non- distinctive form that occasionally occurs in all genres.

168

5.2.1.2 Role of First-Dimension Features

This section presents a functional interpretation of the distinctive forms in the first dimension. The function shared by most of the distinctive forms of the first cluster is interpreted. All individual forms are subsequently described as various contributions to the expression of one single contrast, between stories and songs. In this section I will attempt to understand the nature of this contrast by a comparison of the forms that are used to distinguish it. In chapter 7 dimension 1 is further interpreted by means of of a contrastive analysis of the two sets of contrasted genres. In this chapter only a functional interpretation of the forms is presented. In order to do this, first all cluster members are listed in order of their importance to this distinction, whether they are positive distinctions or negative distinctions. The table above splits apart all positive members in the top half and all negative members in the lower half. In contrast, Table 5.AAA presents all members in order of importance. This presentation emphasises that all forms table 5.AA share one complementary distribution. Because all these forms without exception distinguish the same two sets of genres, they consequently can be considered as distinctions of the same contrast. All forms can be listed as features of dimension 1, whether they are negative or positive members of the distinction. Prior to a discussion of the function shared by most of the distinctive forms of the first cluster, consider the following list, to which the genre marker ‘adjectives’ is included for further references:20

Table 5.AAA co-occurring forms for genres with a temporally-connective presentation of events; forms relating to reported speech are printed in bold, expressions of cohesion in italics:

1. reported speech is NOT less than 9 % ( 8 distinctions) 2. impersonal speech introducing ‘ga’( 7 distinctions) 3. Perfect Verb forms of the third person plural ( 6 distinctions) 4. temporal anaphora( 6 distinctions) 5. NO Imperfect 1 SG present tense ( 6 distinctions) 6. locative anaphora ( 6 distinctions) 7. speech introducer bö ’that; as follows’ (5 distinctions) 8. auxiliary( distinctions) (5 distinctions) 9. temporal connectives (5 distinctions) 10. NO Imperfect 2 SG present tense (5 distinctions) 11. NO pronoun 2 SG (4 distinctions) 12. NO exclamation ínaa we ( 4 distinctions) 13. relative clause markers for temporal clauses with affix –öö (3 distinctions) 14. NO quantifying person anaphora (3 distinctions) 15. NO Perfect 2 SG (3 distinctions) 16. NO pronoun 2 PL (3 distinctions) 17. relative clause markers for temporal clauses with affix –ëë (2 distinctions) 18. adverbial clitic kû ‘indeed; also; too’ (recurrence marker) (2 distinctions) 19. comparative adverb banî ‘like’(2 distinctions) 20. additive nö ‘with; at; to’ (2 distinctions) 21. determiner with Topic Shift marker (2 distinctions) 22. coordinating connective (2 distinctions) 23. pronoun 3 PL (2 distinctions) 24. NO Imperfect 1 PL present (2 distinctions) (- NO Attributive Adjectives)

20In Budu adjectives occur as genre marker of two genres with non-temporally-connective language. However, since the form is not significantly absent in genres with temporally-connective presentation, it is not a distinctive form like the other twenty four features of temporally-connective presentation.

169

The negative members of this cluster are included with ‘NO’ in front. Of course the same cluster of 24 features also distinguishes the genres at the left side in table 5.A; be it with reversed values. At first sight the importance of reported speech as distinction of this first dimension is clear. Although no more than four features relate to reported speech (see the forms in bold print), these forms contribute in an important way to the distinction between the two sets of genres of dimension 1 in Budu. To discover possible functions that these clustering forms share, functional similarities between the listed features are investigated now. The features of dimension 1 can be grouped according to function. They seem to contribute to the verbal expression of:

- reported speech21 (see the forms in bold print). - reports of accomplished events (with Perfect verbs) - chronological ordering (by temporal connectives, temporal anaphora, relative temporal clauses and by use of the recurrence marker kû (all these expressions of cohesion are printed in italics) - absence of interaction (absence of second person forms and of the exclamation ínaa we ’oh my!’) - participants not specified (no quantifying person anaphora or adjectives) but described in a more scenic way (comparative adverb banî ‘like’ and use of reported speech) - emphasised processes (with auxiliaries; additives, recurrence marker and relative locative phrases)

The cluster of dimension 1 is indeed used for storytelling: it is used for temporal specifications, reported speech and an emphasis on processes. At the same time it is characterised by an absence of interactive forms. In contrast, no explicit descriptions of participants with attributive adjectives are exploited for storytelling. A Budu presentation of events apparently consistently expresses chronological ordering. This ordering is expressed by a co-occurrence of temporal temporally-connectives, temporal anaphora, relative temporal clauses, recurrence markers and chain linking with sentence initial locative anaphora. It would be misleading to label this dimension as chronological structuring, since several forms distinguish cohesion and not necessarily chronology. The use of anaphora weaves texts into a cohesive unity. Anaphoric expressions are used in parallel constructions, especially in combination with temporal relative clauses or locative relative clauses. These clauses are easy to recognise as units, with their opening, which consists of anaphora- antecedents and with their affix at the end (see no. 13 and 17 in the list above). The use of cohesive devices and parallel constructions functions cross-linguistically as structuring device in narrative discourse (see for example Tannen 1989 about parallelisms with remarks about Greek and American English; Fleishman about French22 and Biber 1995 (pp. 253-257) about narrative distinctions in Somali, Korean, Nukulaelae and British English), and is therefore not discussed here. Auxiliaries aid the addressee(s) to focus on important developments or on the start of a new procedure. They can also be used for emphasis on detailed actions, similar to left-dislocated focus constructions and like object first (reversed order) constructions. In conclusion, the function shared by most of the distinctions of dimension 1 seems to be both chronological and connective. Therefore the label temporally-connective will be used.

21This is confirmed by the percentage in table 5.2 that most genres with temporally-connective presentation contain more than 24% reported speech. 22“In a number of respects, as we have seen, the textual practice of nouveaux romans resembles that of orally performed epics; a preference for descriptive circularity over a linear plot; paratactic organisation of content units; parallelism and repetition of words; events and scenes; emphasis on perceptions and visual representation; refusal to penetrate the surface of focalised characters and objects and pronounciation of speech.” Fleishman (1990:308).

170 In appendix 5.B the particular use of reported speech as cohesive device in genres with temporally-connective presentation is discussed. As a feature of temporally-connective presentation, Budu reported speech has some culturally-specific properties that emerge only from their pattern of co- occurrence. Appendix 5.B contains an explanation on the operation of reported speech as a device to distinguish background and mainline, to present thematic elements, to launch dramatic clues and to describe discourse participants without the use of adjectives. Included in the discussion in that appendix is an explanation for the significant absence of attributive adjectives in the first cluster of co-occurrence.

5.2.1.3 Conclusion about the First Dimension

Genres with a temporally-connective presentation seem to focus on the presentation of events in the form of a text rather than on its context of production. Not only story genres are distinguished by temporally-connective language. Also procedural texts such as cultural documentation are included. Most temporally-connective language use represents fiction that is used to distract the audience from its direct environment. The audience is presented with a world of imagination by scenic use of language rich in cohesive devices, acoustic clues and parallelisms, as illustrated in appendix 5.B. At night, when hearing is the most important sense, storytelling developed as a tradition with a strong focus on the form of the presentation and a significant absence of situated references. Cohesive devices are used to refer to the text itself. The variation and repetition of thematic material includes omissions and other implicit presentations of information. Audience participation is required to grasp all dramatically important information. A certain alertness of the audience also results from the use of features of community involvement in storytelling (see section 5.2.4). The insignificant use of adjectives in Budu story genres is related to the implicit communication of dramatic information, as also is illustrated in appendix 5.B. The context of production seems to be the most important factor in the genres with a negative distinction for dimension 1. All situated references concern this shared context. In contrast textual references are typical for temporally-connective genres. In this section the co-occurring distinctions of the most important cluster were interpreted functionally. The result is the conclusion, that the first dimension is manifest in linguistic distinctions of a temporally-connective presentation of events.

5.2.2 Budu Second Dimension: Expression of Information

The second dimension of language use variation in Budu appears to be determined by the expression of information, as I will now attempt to explain. The forms in table 5.B together represent the second important cluster. The cluster represents the second largest selection of forms with a shared distribution that was observed in the researched corpus. Since it manifests a different dimension of variation it has a different ordering of genres. Genres with temporally-connective presentation and songs are in the same side of the overview, unlike in the first dimension:

171 table 5.B second selection of the correlation matrix with the second largest distribution including forms with reverse distribution over the same genres (lower half) dram churc trick party anim ghost parbl indiv pact circ work riddl prov life med cultr 0 0 - - - - 0 0 - - Loc advbials 1 - 1 - - 1 0 - - 0 - 0 0 - - - Tem advbials - - - 1 1 - - 0 0 ------Cond/gerund - - - - 1 1 ------0 - Quantifier - - 1 - 1 ------< 70% fu wds - 1 1 - 1 - 0 0 ------Rel. cl. –öö - - - - - 1 0 - 0 ------Consect. px. - - - - - 1 - 0 ------Short infin. - 1 - - 1 - - 0 ------Compar.banî - - - - - 1 0 ------Pronoun 3 PL - - - - - 1 0 ------Det. top shift - - - - - 1 0 ------Coor con - - - - - 1 0 ------Modal aux - - - - 1 - 0 ------Adverbs - - - - 1 - - - - - 0 - - - - - Verb. negat. - - 1 ------(Adjectives) - - - - 1 1

- 1 - 1 - 1 - - - 1 Lex dens < 2 ------1 - 1 - 1 - - - - Vocatives - - - 0 0 0 - - 1 - 1 - - - - - Object prefix - 0 - - 0 0 - - - 1 - - - 1 - 1 Excla. ínaawe - - - - - 0 - 1 ------Pron. 2 SG - - - 0 - 0 1 - - 1 ------PF 2 SG - - - 0 - - 1 - - - - - 1 - - - (exhortation) ------1 ------(mitigation) ------1 ------(lexical past) ------1 ------(rever. Order) ------1 ------(oath voc) ------1 ------(IPF PR 2 PL) ------1 ------(Mod con.) ------

Most linguistic elements have more than one function. Due to their multifunctional nature, some negative members of the dimension-1 cluster play a role as positive distinctions of the second dimension. The multifunctional forms in table 5.B are quantifiers (and the genre marker of ‘adjectives,’ that is put between brackets since it is only a genre marker). They occur as positive distinctions of this second dimension of language use.23 Quantifiers (and adjectives) are also consistently absent in stories. In section 5.2.1 their absence was described as a contribution to the implicit communication of dramatically important information (they were described as negative features of temporally-connective presentation). Yet, the same forms distinguish the expression of information. In section 5.2.2 the other function of quantifiers (and adjectives) will be interpreted on basis of their co-occurrence pattern. Quantifiers (and attributive adjectives) illustrate the multifunctional nature of some features. At first sight the distinctions of the second dimension have one thing in common: they are used to specify information. The forms specify information such as time and place (adverbials and relative clauses), quantity (quantifiers (and adjectives)), quality (adverbs), circumstances (conditional/gerund), goal (short infinitive), and manner (introducer of comparisons ‘like’ banî; auxiliaries and relative clauses for manner). The forms listed in the top part of table 5.B contribute to the contrast between two sets of genres by their explicit specification of information. In contrast, negative members seem to have in common that they make use of a minimum of information. Instead of an explicitly mentioned object the Object Prefix is used.24 Instead of adverbial

23For a comparison see table 5.A lower half row six and last row. 24Object Prefixes may also be used for emphasis. In that case they occur next to a fully expressed object reference, like in trickster stories, where the additive is used to emphasize such object references. The most frequent use of OP’s however is their use in introductions of reported speech, where the addressee is referred to with an OP instead of a full reference, for instance: ga nayô ‘she told him.’

172 specifications of the past in full phrases the adverbial clitic or so called Lexical past is used. Instead of full phrases with the expressed feelings of the speaker an exclamation of despair is used. Similarly short expressions with clitics of exhortation and mitigation are used instead of full phrases with the same modal expression; reversed order is used instead of other, lengthier focus constructions; the oath vocative instead of verbally expressed guarantees. In general, these negative members of the cluster are used for omitting elaborate specifications. The lower part denotes negative members of the same cluster. Their absence contributes to distinguish the same language use variation. Several other forms are included in this group. These are not in the first place used to avoid the expression of more elaborate information. The vocative and the second person forms are absent in positively distinguished genres at the right side of table 5.B; while they tend to be used in the negatively distinguished genres at the left side. They co-occur when a shared context of production can be assumed; with the speaker and the addressee(s) present in one place at one time. In this context the access to shared knowledge results in an implicit presentation of information. The use of second person appeals reflects this shared context that characterises the typical situation where information is omitted. Summarising these observations, positive members of the cluster seem to co-occur specifying information. Use of negative members seems to assume implied information, for instance, the shared context of production. All features of the second dimension are used to either express information explicitly or to leave it implicit. This may be related to shared knowledge represented by the context of production in situations of language use, where speaker and addressee are both present. The cluster and its complementary distribution forms the basis for the postulation of the parameter of the expression of information. Because this parameter will be further discussed in chapter 7, its co-occurrences are now considered in detail. Six genres are positively distinguished by the presence of a cluster of fifteen co-occurring forms. These fifteen forms are not found in negatively distinguished genres, while six additional forms exhibit the same complementary distribution in the opposite direction. All twenty-one forms are considered as distinctions of the same contrast. See the rightmost column for the total number of significant occurrences per form and the last row for the total number of significant occurrences per genre:

173 5.2.2.1 Overview of Distinctive Features of the Second Dimension

Table 5.BB dimension of information expression dram churc party trick ghost parbl anim indiv circ Pact work riddl prov life med cultr 0 0 - - - 0 - 0 - - Loc Adverbls1 - 1 - - 1 7 0 - 0 - 0 0 - - - - Tem advbls - - - 1 1 - 6 - 0 - 0 ------Cond/gerund - - - - 1 1 4 - 0 ------Short Inf. - 1 - - 1 - 3 ------0 Quantifier - - 1 - 1 - 3 ------< 70% fuwrd - 1 1 - 1 - 3 0 0 ------Rel. cl. –öö - - - - - 1 3 0 - - 0 ------Consct. PX. - - - - - 1 3 - 0 ------Comp.banî - - - - - 1 2 0 ------Pron 3 PL - - - - - 1 2 0 ------Det. top shift - - - - - 1 2 0 ------Coor con - - - - - 1 2 0 ------Modal aux - - - - 1 - 2 Verb. negat. 2 ------(adjectives) - - - - 1 1 2

- 1 1 - 1 - - - - - Vocatives - - - 0 0 0 6 - - - 1 - - 1 - - - Object Prefix- 0 - - 0 0 5 - 1 1 - 1 - - - 1 - new wrds< 2 ------4 - - 1 - - - - 1 1 - Excl. ínaawe - - - - - 0 4 - 1 ------Pron. 2 SG - - - 0 - 0 3 1 - 1 ------PF 2 SG - - - 0 - - 3 - - - 1 ------(Mod Con) ------1 10 8 5 3 3 2 2 2 2 1 1 3 4 4 9 13

For expository reasons table 5.B with its twenty nine forms is repeated here without genre markers, with the exception of adjectives and modal connectives that are, for that reason, put between brackets.25 Another difference from table 5.B is, that the total amount of correlations is listed in the last row and in the last column. These sum totals are added to account for the ordering of the columns from the most distinguished genre on the left to the most distinguished genre in the rightmost column. The list of forms follows the order of the form with most (significantly distinctive) correlations on top, to the form with least correlations down the list in the middle column. Ordering the forms provides an overview of the most important contributions to the contrast of the most distinguished genres. This organises the results according to their correlations. The dimension of variation can be observed as a continuum, comparable to the continua which are presented with dimensions in MD-approaches. It is noteworthy that this cluster has several second person forms and even a vocative among its negative members. This negative distinction of the second dimension has already been mentioned. Second person appeals were interpreted to reflect a shared context of production, where speakers and addressees share a certain knowledge. In genres that focus rather on not-shared, new information, no appeals to second persons occur. Nevertheless, not all genres on the right side of table 5.B have zero marking for second person forms. IInteractive language use occassionally occurs in, for instance, work orders, as indicated by the hyphens in the table above. Work orders are distinguished as ‘explicit expression,’ among other aspects of their distribution their use of locative adverbials marks them as explicit expression of information. This genre exhibits an incidental, not significant use of vocatives and second singular pronouns. This co-occurrence distinguishes explicit communication. However, not even one ‘explicit’ genre has a significant use of appeals, not even the interactive genre of work orders.

25Although their use is discussed in detail in this section, these genre markers are nevertheless not included in the total amount based of the dimension, which is based on the last row and column. This dimension-total was used to determine the order of importance between clusters.

174

5.2.2.2 Role of Second-Dimension Features

This section presents a functional interpretation of the role of the distinctive forms in the second dimension of language use variation. The function shared by most of the distinctive forms of the second cluster is interpreted. All individual forms are subsequently described as various contributions to the expression of one single contrast, between the specification of information and the minimal use of specifications. In chapter 7 dimension 2 is further interpreted by means of of a contrastive analysis of the two sets of contrasted genres. In this chapter only a functional interpretation of the forms is presented. In order to analyse the complex nature of explicit presentation of information, table 5.BBB with all the distinctive forms in the second dimension is provided here in order of importance. The negative members of this cluster are included with ‘NO’ in front. Of course the same cluster of 21 features also distinguishes the genres with implicit presentation of information, (on the left side in table 5.B). In those genres the features have reversed values.

Table 5.BBB Co-occurring forms for genres with explicitly expressed information, forms relating to specification are printed in bold, forms which reflect assumed knowledge in italics:

1. Locative adverbials (7 distinctions); specifies place of action 2. Temporal adverbials (6 distinctions); specifies time of action 3. no Vocatives (6 distinctions) 4. no Object Prefix (5 distinctions) 5. Conditionals/ Gerunds (4 distinctions); specifies circumstances 6. Short Infinitives (3 distinctions); specifies goal of action 7. not less than 2 new words per clause (3 distinctions); specific vocabulary 8. no Exclamations ínaawe (3 distinctions) 9. Quantifiers and other Person Anaphora (3 distinctions); specifies (number of) participants 10. less than 70% Function Words (3 distinctions); specifies content 11. Relative Temporal Clauses with affix (3 distinctions); specifies manner or preceding action 12. Consecutive verb root prefix (3 distinctions); specifies chronologic order 13. no Pronouns second singular (3 distinctions) 14. no Perfect second singulars (3 distinctions) 15. comparative banî (2 distinctions) specifies manner 16. Determiner with topic shift (2 distinctions); specifies (new) topic 17. third plural Pronouns (2 distinctions) 18. Coordinating Connective (2 distinctions) specifies simultaneous action 19. Modal auxiliaries (2 distinctions); specifies perception of speaker re. action 20. Verbal Negation (2 distinctions) 21. Adverbs (2 distinctions)) specifies manner of action (Adjectives) specifies quality of participants (no Modal Connectives) specifies perception of speaker on action

Slightly over two thirds of the forms in this cluster are used to provide specifications, as indicated by the bold print in table 5.BBB. These specifications integrate information concisely, expressing it with a minimum of words, resulting in a relatively low percentage of function words and in a high percentage of words that are different from each other. The average amount of new words per clause reflects a choice of precise words. This deliberate word choice is in contrast to the repetitive use of words within one text. A low percentage of function words therefore equals a high amount of deliberately chosen content words, i.e. words with referential meaning. The percentage of function words therefore is an indication of the greater informational density in language that expresses information explicitly.

175 Several forms indicate a syntactical complexity representing integrated information with the combination of subordinated and coordinated clauses in one phrase (the forms numbered 5; 6; 11; 18). Other forms represent an integration of information in one single form (quantifiers; adjectives; adverbs) whereas the same information can be formulated with entire clauses. It is interesting that modal auxiliaries (it should be done), which express the personal stance of the speaker, are among the positive members. The expression of stance is apparently associated with explicity expressed information. It may be conveyed by evaluations expressed in adjectives, quantifiers and specifications of goals with infinitives. Specifications imply integration of information in concise formulations, but also the expression of personal stance. The cluster of forms that distinguishes this second dimension of Budu variation, exhibits similarities with the distinctions that occur in English for informational production (dimension one, see Biber 1995:142), in Korean for planned expositions (dimension one; see Biber 1995:182); in Somali for planned production of integrated information (dimension two, see Biber 1995:213) and in Tuvaluan for informational reference (dimension two, see Biber 1995: 173). It is interesting that the contrast in the last two languages and in English is between a focus on information and interpersonal communication, as, at first sight, seems to also be the case in this second dimension in Budu. However, Budu involvement as such, unlike in English (Biber 1995:142), does not contrast with explicitly expressed knowledge. Although the physical absence of a shared context in general leads to the expression of more specifications, there is no direct relation. As in English, in Budu a shared context also represents high involvement and texts with unspecified information,. Forms in italic print in the list above all have in common that they leave information implicit. Object prefixes may replace a full reference to objects by means of nouns or pronouns.26 Exclamations replace full phrases that draw the attention of the addressee to something of particular importance that the speaker wants to emphasise. They leave information implicit regarding the feelings of the speaker. The absence of verb negation implies the use of other, more emphatic expressions that express the absence of an action.27 The use of these forms leaves implicit information that could alternatively be expressed by the specific negation of a verb. In conclusion, the forms in italics therefore represent implicit communication and not in the first place involvement. Emphatic forms reflect the shared context, which provides the opportunity to appeal to the attention of the addressee. MD-analyses for the dimensions relating to interaction as opposed to informational focus established this as a cross-linguistic universal (e.g. Biber 1995:244). Apart from a shared context, cultural knowledge and cultural values can be easilly shared in interactive communication. Cultural knowledge is often assumed in situations where speaker and addressee are together. In a closely knit society, which the Budu represent by their history, a shared context of production is apparently associated with the possibility to leave information unspecified. To investigate which cultural values seem to be attached to the use of vocatives, see section 3.4.5. To consider cultural knowledge that is apparently implied in the use of modal connectives, an elaborate discussion is attached in appendix 5.C.

5.2.2.3 Conclusion about the Second Dimension

In this section the second cluster observed in language use variation was interpreted functionally. The second dimension seems to be manifest in the presentation of information. The highly involved communication that results from allusions to shared knowledge is only a side effect of this implicit use of

26If Object Prefixes occur next to an explicitly mentioned object, they underline the importance of this discourse participant. If they occur in a applicative construction, Object Prefixes also express emphasis (see section 3.4.4). 27See for examples of the use of ideophones in animal stories the section 7.2.4.7.

176 language. Involvement as such is not distinguished by this second cluster. See the discussion of the fourth dimension in section 5.2.4.2 for the additional function of some forms in community involvement.

5.2.3 Budu Third Dimension: Directive Communication of Appeals

The third-most-important dimension of language use variation in Budu appears to be determined by the communication of appeals, as I will now attempt to explain. The cluster of forms in table 5.C represent the third important cluster. The cluster represents the third largest selection of forms with a shared distribution that was observed in the researched corpus. By their co-occurrence, these forms distinguish a particular dimension of communication, which is reflected in a particular set of genres. Consider table 5.C:

fig 5.C third selection of the correlation matrix with third-largest shared distribution including forms with reverse distribution over the same genres (lower half) cutlr life pact med prov ani riddl circ ghos parb work indiv trickst party churc dram 0 0 0 - - 0 Imperative - - - - - 1 - - 1 - 0 0 - 0 - - Vocative - - 1 - - - - 1 1 - 0 0 - - - - IPF PR 2 SG - - - - 1 - - 1 - 1 0 - - - - - Excl. ínaa we - 1 - - - 1 - 1 - - - 0 - - - - Perfect 2 SG ------1 - 1 0 0 - - - - Pronoun 2 SG ------1 - - 0 - - - - Pronoun 2 PL - - - - 1 - - - 1 - 0 - - - - - Interrog pron. 1 ------0 - - - IPF PR 1 PL ------1 ------(IPF F 3 PL) ------1 ------(Adv.Exh.) - - - 1 - - - - - 1 ------(Adv. mitg) ------1 ------I(PF PR 2 PL) ------1 ------(IPF F 1 PL) - - - 1 ------(Lexical past) ------1 ------(rev. Order) ------1 ------(Oath Voc.) ------1 -

- 1 - 1 - - Temp Adverbls - - 0 0 - - - 0 - 0 - 1 1 1 1 - Associt mrk ------0 1 - - 1 - - Cond/gerund ------0 - 0 - 1 - - - - - Rel. cl. –öö ------0 0 1 - - - - - Consct PXx ------0 - - 0 1 - - - - - Coor Connect ------0 1 - - - - - Det Top shift ------0 1 - - - - - Pronoun 3 PL ------0 - - 1 - - - Kû recur. mkr ------0 - - - 1 - - Modal auxiliary ------0 - - - 1 - - Adverbs ------0 ------(adv. clitic tá) ------0 - - - - 1 1 - (Attrib. Adj.) ------

Several positive members of this cluster are references to addressee(s). The addressee is urged to react by use of second person pronouns and by vocatives. Furthermore the addressee’s attention is drawn by the use of exclamations. The forms co-occur ‘to emphasize appeals,’ directed at others present in the context of production. In contrast, no appeal is expressed in the negatively distinguished genres at the left side: life stories and cultural documentation. The most clearly distinguished genre is drama. It provides, with its predictable use of persuasion and exhortation (see the genre markers between brackets), some indication of the kind of communication that is distinguished with the entire cluster. Persuasion is understood here in line with the definition that is presented in Virtanen and Halmari (2005:5): “those

177 linguistic choices that aim at changing or affecting the behaviour of others or strengthening the existing beliefs and behaviours of those who already agree, the beliefs and behaviours of the persuaders included.” In some genres speakers may attempt to persuade not others, but themselves,.28 Directive language use necessitates the existence of an audience, and therefore most positive distinctions reflect interaction. The directive nature of the dimension is clear from the expressed attempts to affect the behaviour of others.

5.2.3.1 Overview of Distinctive Features of the Third Dimension

For expository reasons table 5.C is repeated here without genre markers, except for the adverbial clitics expressing exhortation and mitigation. Direct expressions of directive appeals are printed in italics. The rightmost column denotes the sum total of significant correlations per row (for each form); first for the positive members in the top half of the overview and again for the negative members of the cluster in the lower half. The last row denotes the sum total of significant correlations per column (for each genre): table 5.CC dimension of directive communication of appeals cultr life med pact prov ani riddl circ parbl gho trick indiv work party churc dram 0 0 - 0 - 0 Imperative - - - - - 1 - - 1 - 6 0 0 0 - - - Vocative - - - 1 - - - 1 1 - 6 0 0 - - - - IPF PR 2 SG ------1 1 - 1 5 0 - - - - - Excl.ínaa we - 1 - - - 1 - 1 - - 4 0 0 - - - - Pron 2 SG ------1 - 3 - 0 - - - - Perfect 2 SG ------1 - 1 3 - 0 - - - - Pron 2 PL ------1 - 1 - 3 0 - - - - - Int. Pron. 1 ------2 - - - 0 - - IPF PR 1 PL ------1 - 2 ------(Exhort clitic) - - 1 ------1 ------(Mitig clitic) ------1

- 1 1 - - - Temp Advb. - - 0 0 - - - 0 - 0 6 - 1 1 1 1 - Associt mrk ------0 5 1 - 1 - - - Cond/gerund - - - - 0 - - - 0 - 4 1 - - - - - Consect. Px - - - - 0 - - - - 0 4 1 - - - - - Rel. cl. –öö ------0 0 3 1 - - - - - Coor Connec ------0 2 1 - - - - - Det Top shift ------0 2 1 - - - - - Pron. 3 PL ------0 2 - - - 1 - - Recrr mkKû ------0 2 - - 1 - - - Modal Aux. ------0 2 - - 1 - - - Adverbs ------0 2 12 8 6 4 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 5 7 12

Considering the importance of each distinction, expressed in the total amount of correlations (rightmost column), negative distinctions have not received enough attention yet. The negative members of the third-largest cluster do not express the opposite end of directive communication directly. Gerunds and conditionals, in themselves, seem unrelated to non-directive language use. Elaborate details of description, that are usually expressed with gerunds or conditional,

28Such introspection occurs in, for instance, the reported ‘thoughts’ embedded in pact stories. The embeddings are not large enough to detemine the language use of the main genre of pact stories, which remains non- directive.

178 tend to be ommitted in urgent appeals to the addressees. Their absence can therefore be explained as reflecting a certain urgency of communication. Conditionals and gerunds represent subordinated clauses that are significantly used in monologues where no immediate reaction of addressee(s) is considered. Medical information represents primary health care with its focus on long term prevention of illnesses and cultural documentation represents information to help younger relatives in choosing a suitable marriage candidate. In the latter the focus is on long term prevention of endogamy. Members of the own clan, who are well defined in the genre, are to be avoided as marriage candidates. Elaborate descriptions with subordinate verb forms represent the opposite of urgent, directive appeals. In contrast, interrogative pronouns and clitics for adverbial mitigation and exhortation are used to express the expectation of an immediate reaction. The contrast seems not to be between persuasion and non-persuasion, but between immediately expected reactions versus a long term impact on the addressee(s). Upon closer investigation, the forms of this cluster all support the same contrast in language use between urgent appeals and non-urgent descriptions. The third cluster manifests a particular dimension of communication that apparently is important in the communities of the speakers, because it is distinguished in Budu. The two extreme ends of this third-largest dimension are distinguished by the significant co-occurrence of forms in complementary distribution. The significant use of the co- occurrence distinguishes one extreme end, while the significant negative use of the same co- occurrence distinguishes the other extreme end. This cluster therefore seems to distinguish directive appeals on the addressee(s) to obtain immediate reactions on one extreme end from non-directive monologues with an intended long term impact on the addressee(s) on the other end of the dimension.

5.2.3.2 Role of Third-Dimension Features

In chapter 7 dimension 3 is further interpreted by means of of a contrastive analysis of the two sets of contrasted genres. In this chapter only a functional interpretation of the forms is presented. In order to determine what function is shared by most of the distinctions of the third dimension, all forms in the third cluster are now compared. To investigate the contribution that each form makes to the contrast between directive genres and non-directive genres, consider table 5.CCC. The negative members of this cluster are included with ‘NO’ in front. Of course the same cluster with 20 features also distinguishes the genres with non-directive communication (at the left side in table 5.C). In those genres the same features occur with reversed values.

179

Table 5.CCC co-occurring forms in genres with directive communication, forms expressing appeals are printed in bold; direct appeals in italics,:

1. Imperative (6 distinctions) 2. Vocative (6 distinctions) 3. NO Temporal Adverbial (6 distinctions) 4. NO Associative Marker (5 distinctions) 5. Imperfect present second singulars (5 distinctions) 6. Exclamation ínaawe ‘oh my’ (4 distinctions) 7. NO Conditional/ Gerunds (4 distinctions) 8. NO Consecutive Prefix (3 distinctions) 9. Perfect second singulars (3 distinctions) 10. pronoun second singular (3 distinctions) 11. Pronoun 2 PL (3 distinctions) 12. NO Adverbial/ Ttemporal Relative clause with affix–öö (3 distinctions) 13. Interrogative pronoun (2 distinctions) 14. Imperfect present first plural forms (2 distinctions) 15. NO Coordinating Connectives (2 distinctions) 16. NO Determiner with Topic shift (2 distinctions) 17. NO Pronoun 3 PL (2 distinctions) 18. NO Recurrency Marker Kû (2 distinctions) 19. NO Modal Auxiliary (2 distinctions) 20. NO Adverbs (2 distinctions) (adverbial clitic expressing exhortation) (adverbial clitic expressing mitigation)

Almost one third of all distinctions in this cluster express a direct appeal to the addressee(s), as the forms in bold print indicate. Four of the twenty forms consist of indirect appeals to the addressee in the form of exclamations, exhortation, mitigation and interrogative pronouns (see italic print). The remaining forms are all negative members of the cluster. Their use represents an absence of urgency. They express no expectation regarding the reaction of the addressee. This interpretation follows from the contrast between positive and negative members of this cluster: whereas the positively distinguished genres correlate with a high frequency of main clauses expressing direct appeals, the negatively distinguished genres have a high frequency of dependent clauses exhibiting syntactic complexity. Positively distinguished genres express the expectation of the speaker to receive immediate feed-back, which is, in theory, possible after each main clause; whereas non-directive genres hardly ever provide such opportunities, their average sentence being complex, containing several subordinate clauses. The significant use of third person plural pronouns in the negatively distinguished genres and the significant use of qualifying adverbs reflects the elaborate descriptions of the monologues in the negatively distinguished genres. Monologues would be disturbed by any reactions.

5.2.3.3 Conclusion about the Third Dimension

A contrastive analysis of the distinctive forms clarifies the directive nature of the communication in the third dimension of variation. In this section the co-occurring distinctions of the third cluster were interpreted functionally. The resulting analysis is that the third dimension is manifest in linguistic expressions of the immediately expected reaction of the addressee(s) and in its extreme opposite, where feed-back is almost made impossible by the complexity of elaborate, descriptive sentences.

180

5.2.4 Budu Fourth Dimension: Community Involvement

The fourth-most-important dimension of language use variation in Budu appears to be determined by involvement of the community, as I will now attempt to explain. The fourth-largest cluster observed in the researched corpus has fifteen forms. Seven genre markers are included in talbe 5.D to facilitate an analysis of the distinguished constrast. Twelve forms occur as positive members in the top half of the following table. Only three occur as negative members in the lower half. Half of all researched genres is positively distinguished by this cluster (the genres at the right half of the listed forms) and the other half is negatively distinguished. Consider table 5.D with the complementary distribution of this cluster over the sixteen genres of the researched corpus:

fig 5.D fourth selection of the correlation matrix with the fourth-largests distribution including forms with reverse distribution over the same genres (lower half) cultr dram med prov work riddl life parbl pact party trick indiv ghost anim circu churc 0 0 0 0 0 - - - Idiomatic expr - - - - - 1 1 - 0 0 ------Ideophones - 1 - 1 1 - - - 0 - 0 - - - 0 - Vocatives - 1 - - 1 - - 1 0 - 0 - - 0 - - Object Prefix - - 1 - - 1 - - 0 0 ------past Particip. - - - 1 1 - - - 0 ------excla. ínaawe - 1 - 1 - - 1 - - 0 0 - 0 - - - Emphatic Pron 1 ------1 - 0 ------HAB 3 SG ------1 1 0 - - - - - 0 - Pron 2 SG ------1 - 0 ------Additive nö - - 1 ------0 ------Ipf FUT 3 SG ------1 - 0 ------Rel. cl. –ëë - - - - 1 ------(Intrj. Oí ýes’) - 1 - - - - 1 ------(Ipf PR 2 PL) ------1 ------(Oath Vocative) ------1

1 - 1 - - - - - Gerund/ Cond - - 0 - - - - 0 - - 1 - - 1 - - Short Infinitive ------0 - - - 1 - - - - Verb. Negation - - - - - 0 - - - - 1 1 - - - - (Attr. Adjective) ------(Adv. clit. Tá) ------0 - 1 - - - - - 1 (Adv. Exhortation) ------1 ------(Adv. Mitigation) ------

In table 5D, only three genres are clearly distinguished in a negative sense. They are the three leftmost columns with cultural documentation, drama and medical information. In contrast, all songs and three story genres are clearly distinguished as positive genres for this dimension (with at least three significant distinctions). These are trickster stories, ghost stories and animal stories.29 The fourth cluster of distinctions seems to reflect a dramatic emphasis, as explained in section 5.2.4.2. These forms are used to involve the audience with storytelling and songs. In contrast, the

29Of all story genres, ghost stories are the most distinctive for the fourth dimension and pact stories are the least distinctive. Animal stories are foremost characterised by the significant use of the fourth cluster of forms. The use of temporally-connective distinctions in this genre is minimal in comparison to other story genres in the same (first) dimension (see 5.A). Less prototypical story-genres, including the non-traditional story genre of parables& pulpit speech, exhibit, like animal stories, a significant use of community-involved language use with animal stories as most distinguished genre for involvement.

181 negative end of the dimension reflects the lack of any involvement of the community. It is represented by genres that typically contain individual expressions. Negatively distinguished genres may either represent the enumeration of facts (cultural documentation, for instance) or private exchanges between individuals (in drama, for instance, but also in parables& other pulpit speech). The audience is involved in none of the negatively distinguished genres. Negative members of this cluster are used in individual presentations of facts or opinions. They are not significantly used in most songs and stories. Unlike the third cluster, forms of the fourth cluster express appeals without attempts to persuade the addressee(s). The use of language is, in other words, ‘free of charge.’ This is reflected in the absence of clitics expressing exhortation, for instance, or mitigation. These clitics are not significantly used in any of the positively distinguished genres. In order to investigate the nature of the distinctions in this cluster, a close examination of the main distinctions is now presented.

5.2.4.1 Overview of Distinctive Features of the Fourth Dimension table 5.DD Fourth dimension cultr dram med prov work riddl life parbl pact party trick indiv circu anim ghost churc 0 0 0 0 0 - - - Idiom. Expr - - - - 1 1 - - 7 0 - 0 - - - 0 - Vocatives - 1 - - - - 1 1 6 0 0 ------Ideophones - 1 - 1 - - 1 - 5 - 0 0 - 0 - - - Emph.Pron 1 ------1 5 0 - 0 - - 0 - - Object PX - - 1 - - 1 - - 5 0 0 ------Past PTC - - - 1 - - 1 - 4 0 ------Exl. ínaawe - 1 - 1 1 - - - 4 - 0 ------HAB 3 SG - - - - 1 - - 1 3 0 - - - - - 0 - pron 2 SG ------1 2 - 0 ------Additive nö - - 1 - - - - - 2 - 0 ------Ipf F. 3 SG ------1 2 - 0 ------Rel.cl. –ëë ------1 - 2

1 - 1 - - - - - Gerund/Cond - - 0 - - - - 0 4 - - 1 - - 1 - - Short Infin. ------0 3 - - - 1 - - - - Verb. Neg. - - - - - 0 - - 2 8 8 6 2 2 2 2 1 3 3 3 3 3 4 7

All fifteen forms in table 5.DD express the same contrast. This is an indication of their shared role in distinguishing various genres of language use. This function is interpreted by means of the resemblance between the functions of individual members of the cluster. See the right hand column for the total number of significant occurrences per form and the last row for the total number of significant occurrences per genre.

5.2.4.2 Role of Fourth-Dimension Features

In chapter 7 dimension 4 is further interpreted by means of of a contrastive analysis of the two sets of contrasted genres. In this chapter only a functional interpretation of the forms is presented. Table 5.DD lists all main distinctions of the fourth dimension and their distribution. In table 5.DDD the same forms occur in order of importance as contributions to the contrast. The negative members of the fourth cluster are included with ‘NO’ in front. Of course the same cluster of 15 features also distinguishes the genres with individual expression, at the left side in table 5.D. In those genres the same features occur with reversed values.

182 Table 5.DDD co-occurring forms in genres with community involvement, forms relating to emphasis are printed in bold,: appeals on the addressee in italics)

1. Idiomatic Expressions (7 distinctions) 2. Vocatives (6 distinctions) 3. Ideophones ( 5 distinctions) 4. Emphatic pronouns ( 5 distinctions) 5. Object Prefix ( 5 distinctions) 6. past Participle Constructions ( 4 distinctions) 7. Exclamation ínaawe (4 distinctions) 8. NO Gerunds and Conditionals ( 4 distinctions) 9. habitual third person singular forms ( 3 distinctions) 10. NO short Infinitives ( 3 distinctions) 11. Pronouns second person singular (2 distinctions) 12. Additives nö ( 2 distinctions) 13. Imperfect Future third person singular ( 2 distinctions) 14. Relative Locative Clauses with affix –ëë ( 2 distinctions) 15. NO Verb Negation ( 2 distinctions) (NO Adverbial Mitigation) (NO Adverbial Exhortation) (NO Adjectives)

The shared function of the largest group of distinctions explains the nature of the communication in this fourth dimension. One third of all distinctions in this list represent the expression of emphasis (see bold print):

-Ideophones are used to underline the most important actions in a text (see appendix 5.D and 8.3.1.1.).

-Object Prefixes in an applicative verb form or next to a full object reference imply emphasis, see footnote 23.

-Past Participle constructions of the passive derivation are used in reduplication next to the inflected verb and thereby express an emphasis. Active Participles emphasize focalised moments or prominent participants (see 3.5.1.4).

-The Habitual verb, by its semantic features, expresses some emphasis on the (repeated or habitual) action.

-Additives can be used as mere prepositions (nö ‘with’) however most frequently they express an emphasis on the second member of the prepositional phrase, as in other Bantu languages.

-Relative locative clauses in focus constructions with left dislocation are used to emphasize a particular moment because of its dramatic importance.30

In conclusion one-third of all distinctions seems to be used to involve the addressee, using dramatic emphasis to activate audience participation in singing, celebration, and story-telling sessions. The use of emphasis in storytelling and songs is obvious. Various expressions of emphasis are used in attempts to involve the audience. Idiomatic expressions form the most important non-emphatic distinction, being significantly absent in five negatively distinguished genres and significantly present in two positively distinguished genres. They occur in one song genre and in one story genre. Idiomatic expressions involve members of a community by ‘resuming’ some shared values. According to Swales definition of a discourse community, it has shared public goals, it uses some specific lexis, and its membership is explicitly defined (1990:24-27). Idiomatic expressions seem part of

30For comparison consider that cultural documentation (where relative locative clauses are significantly few, depend on gerunds to focus on one of its chronologically listed events) in contrast to storytelling genres.

183 this specific vocabulary of the Budu community, in which they almost function as in-group solidarity markers. Recognition of idiom enhances the addressee’s ability to identify themselves as group members.31 Some idiomatic expressions also reflect spontaneous production. Idiomatic expressions are not all ‘easy to produce’ instantaneous constructions. However, a small set of idiomatic expressions, for example all constructions with kyënda ‘travel,’ represent instant collocations that, by their frequent use in the setting of a new temporally-connective episode, emerge as ready- made expressions that typically occur in ad-hoc production.32 In this cluster idiomatic expressions seem to involve the audience because they allude to shared world knowledge that binds the community together. Idiomatic expressions form concise allusions to community-owned sociolinguistic scripts33 (about ‘trips’ for example) and values (about ‘joy’ for example as in nîkwa ïgyagya ‘rejoice’). Its frequency of use facilitates the recognition of idiom, which contributes to its aptness as a trigger of community involvement. Idiomatic expressions thereby exhibit functional similarities with other distinctions in this cluster they reflect a community-involved use of language. The forms in italics represent appeals. Unlike in the third cluster of directive versus non-directive communication, these three forms in italics do not co-occur with the significant use of mitigation or exhortation. The distinctions represent appeals without expressing that a reaction of the addressee is required or even expected. In the fourth cluster appeals co-occur, for instance, with use of third person references (table 5.DDD number 13). Appeals express attempts to involve the audience. Another apparent resemblance with directive language is the absence of gerunds/conditionals and of short infinitives. Since number 8 and 10 in table 5.DDD both express subordinate phrases, their absence indicates the lack of elaboration. Unlike the third cluster, the co-occurrence in this cluster nevertheless has no correlation with direct, simple clauses vs. syntactically complex sentences. Relative clauses occur significantly in the positively distinguished genres expressing emphasis on certain locations (table 5.DDD number 14 is a locative relative clause). The co-occurrence in the fourth cluster seems to express non-urgent, or in other words: leisurely attempts to involve the audience by entertaining usages of emphasis, not including appeals to react.

5.2.1.4 Conclusion about the Fourth Dimension

In conclusion, the cluster of distinctions seems to distinguish communication that occurs while the audience is activated by language use with dramatic emphasis. The negative end of the dimension is represented by individual expressions without any involvement of the community. Negatively distinguished genres may represent the enumeration of facts (cultural documentation for instance). In private exchanges with the addressees those may be urged to respond (in drama for instance, but also

31Compare this with the remark of Tannen 1989:94 in reference to Norrick (1985) with a similar interpretation of the use of proverbs in newspaper headings of English newspapers. 32Other expressions that occur frequently in such instant collocations are bôya ‘to arrive;’ tôa ‘to return; ‘bhangû escape’ and the verb nîkwa ‘to fall.’ This verb is used in idiomatic expressions that, quite exceptionally, reflect no performative communication, for example nîkwa mepo ’swim’; nîkwa angïö ’become impoverished’ nîkwa ayende /ayonde ’be needy;’ nîkwa bamu ’become a fool;’ nîkwa bhadïma ‘become unconscious;’ nîkwa ïgyagya ‘rejoice;’ nîkwa lïkyëmü ‘give dowry;’ nîkwa mütïmá wütagbi ‘be angry;’ nîkwa taa ‘be hungry.’ 33The term script is used in the sense it was introduced by Schank, R.C. and Robert P. Abelson (1977) in their book: Scripts, plans, goals and understanding. An inquiry into human knowledge structures Hillsdale, NJ/New York etc: Erlbaum/ Wiley as referred to in Ensink and Sauer 2003:3,4).

184 in parables& other pulpit speech). In contrast, involved audiences with the storygenes at the right side of table 5.DD are not urged to react. Storytellers merely involve their audience. The distribution of this cluster over the genres in the researched corpus seems to suggest functional differences between, on the one hand attributive adjectives and, on the other hand ideophones and Participle constructions (see appendix 5.D for details). The function of ideophones and participle construction in community involvement only emerges when they co-occur with other cluster 4 forms.34 Community involvement is the shared common denominator of all positive distinctions. The distinctions of the fourth dimension are used for triggering audience participation by dramatic emphasis. In this section the co-occurring distinctions of the fourth cluster were functionally interpreted. The resulting analysis is, that the fourth dimension is manifest in linguistic distinctions of community-involved language use.

5.2.5 Budu Fifth Dimension: Production

The fifth dimension of language use variation in Budu appears to be determined by efforts involved in the production of texts, as I will now attempt to explain. The fifth-largest cluster that can be observed in the researched corpus has fourteen forms. Nine forms occur as positive members in the top half of table 5.E (with two genre markers between brackets in the top half). Five occur additionally as negative members in the lower half (with two genre markers). The genre markers were included to facilitate the analysis of the contrast that is distinguished with the fifth cluster. Half of the researched genres is positively distinguished by this cluster (the genres at the right half of the listed forms) and the other half is negatively distinguished. Consider table 5.E with the complementary distribution of this cluster over the sixteen genres of the researched corpus:

Table 5.E fifth selection of the correlation matrix with the fifth distribution; including forms with reverse distribution over the same genres (lower half) dram cultr parbl churc life prov circ indiv pact anim party riddl work trick med ghos - - - 0 - 0 0 0 Spch intr bö - 1 ------0 - - 0 - - - - Auxiliaries - - - 1 - 1 - 1 0 0 - - 0 - - - IPF F 2 SG - - - - 1 ------0 - - - - Short Infin. - - - 1 - - 1 - 0 ------Modal Aux. ------1 - 0 ------Rel. Cl. – ëë ------1 0 ------Adverbs ------1 - - 0 ------Interr pron. - - - 1 - - - - 0 ------Rec mkr kû 1 ------(resumpt. Mkr) ------1 - 0 ------(IPF F 1 SG) ------

(1)* - 1 1 - - - - Polite vocative 0 - - - 0 0 0 0 - 1 - - 1 - - - 1 PL Perfect - - - - 0 0 0 0 - 1 - 1 - - - - Pron. 1 PL - - - - - 0 - 0 - - - 1 - - - - IPF PR 1 PL 0 ------1 - - Verb. Neg. - 0 ------1 - - - - - (IPF F 1 PL) ------1 - - - - (IPF PR 2 PL) ------

34Felix Ameka in his article on adjectives already suggested that the distribution of ideophones and adjectives in a language would render interesting insights into their nature and into their role in a language (2003: 27).

185 * for the asterisk see the corresponding remark underneath table 5, which will be discussed later in the section about this cluster.

The fifth cluster is the only main co-occurrence distinguishing between various song genres in the researched corpus. In other dimensions all song genres are either positively distinguished or negatively distinguished. Apparently this one difference is relevant to Budu communication, and it is reflected in co- occurrences of the fifth cluster. In this dimension, party songs are positively distinguished since negative use of the cluster is never significant in any party song. All other songs are negatively distinguished. The fifth cluster is unique in its distinction of song genres. The eight genres at the right side of table 5.E, seem to be characterised by language use with multiple empty filler-like forms, such as the speech introducer bö and markers of resumption. The eight genres at the left side represent language use with a minimum of redundancy that happens to occur in well-prepared production. In some cases the language use in these genres even is memorised, rehearsed or written down; consider the song book in which most church songs are printed; the script of drama; memorised proverbs and circumcision songs. In contrast party songs occur on the right-hand side and represent drinking and dancing songs that exhibit considerable variation, including an amount of redundancy. The observed contrast confirms the cross-cultural tendency for spontaneous production to reflect little or no care for production in comparison to prepared production (Biber 1995:248). The relation between redundancy and unprepared production seems to exist in other languages as well. Expressions with many empty fillers represent spontaneous production and contrast frequently with carefully prepared texts. The main distinction of this cluster is its redundant language as produced in spontaneous production. Genres without co-occurrence of these distinctions seem to have a well-prepared production of texts in common. Furthermore there seems to be a relation between the positively distinguished genres and a non- institutional language use. Institutional settings are reflected in church related language (parables& other pulpit speech; church songs) and in circumcision-related language use (circumcision songs and animal stories about blood brothers). Negatively distinguished genres exhibit a minimum of redundancy that can only be explained by its carefully prepared production. Institutional settings could very well activate the use of carefully prepared speech. Some positive distinctions of redundancy are significantly absent in institutional settings, whereas two negative distinctions of spontaneous production, namely the use of future verb forms and polite vocatives, both occur in institutional settings, while neither are found in spontaneous production. A minimum of redundancy is observed in language produced in institutional settings. Polite vocatives were introduced in section 3.4.5.2. They consist of nouns that can also be used to refer to relatives and function like the English ‘Sir’ or ‘Madam’. In plays they are consistently used to indicate some speakers with stage remarks that consist of a name followed by a colon. See for example the lines 6 and 8 in the excerpt of drama in section 7.2.1.2. In recurring situations the average speaker probably needs less preparation time; the script of the situation already containing clues for the selection of words and phrases. Language use that represents institutional settings is easily memorised and contains less empty fillers than spontaneous speech.35 One could say that there apparently is less need for linguistic redundancy in culturally recurring situations. Most non-redundant genres represent culturally recurring situations of language use. It seems noteworthy that the genre of church songs exhibits directive communication, while at the same time representing one of the genres with the least redundancy, since its language use is prepared in advance. Similarly Besnier (1993) observed for Nukulaelae Tuvuluan, spoken in Polynesia, that some

35Note that idiomatic expressions are not among the markers of redundancy. The category probably contains too many expressions that, because of their formulaic nature, are associated with particular contexts. Such contexts apparently activate no ‘easy’ production of language, although, in themselves, idiomatic expressions represent instantaneous production..

186 personal letters are highly interactive, although written in advance. Budu, like Nukulaelae seems to form an exception to the general observation that a prepared production reflects less interaction and genres with spontaneous production considerable interaction (cf. Biber 1995:248). Several of the positively distinguished genres may purposely exhibit the use of redundant language use. Animal stories, riddles, and pact stories tend to be (re)produced by young persons. Like work orders and, to a certain extent also medical information, they serve educational purposes that are reflected in language use that facilitates comprehension. In conclusion, language used with younger relatives, seems, like spontaneous production, to result in an extent of redundancy that facilitates both production and understanding. Institutional language, because of its recurring cultural setting and related formulaic expressions, renders the use of redundant language irrelevant.

5.2.5.1 Overview of Distinctive Features of the Fifth Dimension

The co-occurrence of distinctions in the fifth cluster is considered in detail now. Consider table 5.EE with the summary of its main distinctions with an added total amount of significant occurrences per form (row) in the last column and an added total amount of significant occurrences per genre (column) in the last row:

Table 5.EE dimension of production dram churc cult life prov circ parb indiv party anim pact riddl work trick med ghos - 0 - - 0 0 - 0 sp. intr bö - 1 ------5 0 0 ------auxiliaries - - - 1 - 1 - 1 5 0 - 0 0 - - - - IPF F. 2 SG - - - - 1 - - - 4 - 0 ------short infinitive - - - 1 - - 1 - 3 0 ------modal aux. ------1 - 2 0 ------rel. Cl – ëë ------1 2 0 ------adverbs ------1 - 2 - - 0 - - - - - INTER.pron. - - - 1 - - - - 2 0 ------Rec. mkr kû - - 1 - - - - - 2

1 1 - - - - 1 - polite voc. - - 0 - 0 0 0 0 8 - - 1 1 - - - - 1 PL Perfect - - - - 0 0 0 0 6 - 1 1 - - - - - pronoun 1 PL - - - - - 0 - 0 4 - 1 ------IPF PR 1 PL - - 0 - - - - - 2 - - - - 1 - - - Verb. Neg. - 0 ------2 7 6 4 2 2 1 1 1 - 2 3 3 3 4 5 5

First person plural forms represent half of the negative distinctions of this dimension. The first plural is used by speakers who formulate statements that concern the addressee(s). Qualitative analysis of the the texts involved showed that most of these expressions occur in genres where somebody speaks ‘on behalf of’ a group.’ This ‘we’ inclusive occurs in church celebrations, but also in documenting clan history and in the verbal exchanges in drama. The minimal amount of redundancy in texts with ‘we- inclusive’ forms, can not only be explained from the well-prepared production, it also reflects a certain consideration for the addressee, which is also reflected in the use of polite vocatives. This consideration conditions the use of carefully formulated language, void of redundancy. As a result first plurals distinguish a well-prepared production of texts.

187 5.2.5.2 Role of Fifth-Dimension Features

In chapter 7 dimension 5 is further interpreted by means of of a contrastive analysis of the two sets of contrasted genres. In this chapter only a functional interpretation of the forms is presented. In order to determine the function that is shared by most of the distinctions of the fifth dimension, all forms in the fifth cluster are now compared. To investigate the contribution of each form to the contrast between spontaneous production and careful production, consider table 5.EEE. The negative members of this cluster are included with ‘NO’ in front. Of course the same cluster with 14 features also distinguishes the genres with a careful production (at the left side in table 5.E). In those genres the same features occur with reversed values.

Table 5.EEE Co-occurring forms in genres with spontaneous production; First-person forms are printed in bold; easy-to-produce forms in italics:

1. NO polite vocatives ( 8 distinctions) 2. NO first person plural of the Perfect ( 6 distinctions) 3. Speech Introducing bö ‘that’ ( 5 distinctions) 4. Auxiliaries (5 distinctions) 5. Imperfect Future second person singular forms ( 4 distinctions) 6. short Infinitives (3 distinctions) 7. NO first plural pronouns ( 4 distinctions) 8. Modal Auxiliaries (2 distinctions) 9. Relative Locative Clauses with affix –ëë ( 2 distinctions) 10. Adverbs (2 distinctions) 11. Interrogative Pronouns ( 2 distinctions) 12. Recurrency Marker kû adverbial clitic (2 distinctions) 13. NO Imperfect present first person plural ( 2 distinctions) 14. NO verbal Negation ( 2 distinctions) (NO Imperfect Future first person plural)

In table 5.EEE, all first-person plurals are printed in bold. They form one-fifth of all the distinctions in this fifth dimension. In section 5.2.5.1 the remark was made that well-prepared language seems to be activated by a certain type of communication with various first-person forms. In the genres involved, the speaker happens to speak on behalf of the audience. The language in these genres is not spontaneously produced. In contrast, the forms printed in italics seem to represent a certain redundancy of expression that is apparently present in genres with spontaneous production. These forms in italics are easy to produce. The most simple connective is made with the speech introducer (form 3 in table 5.EEE); the most simple expression of aspect with the auxiliaries (under 4 and 8 in combination with 6); the most simple indication of place by using an affix (with form 9); the most simple (adverbial) description of quality with form 10; and a structuring of recurrent episodes with a recurrency marking clitic (form 12). All the items in italic print seem to represent easy alternatives for expressions that require more effort, as will be explained now. Speech introducers occur, as was discussed in 5.2.1, rather frequently in temporally-connective discourse. About a quarter of the average story consists of reported speech. Next to its use as speech introducer, bö ‘that’ also is the most simple connective. Its use as connective for subordinated clauses in spontaneously produced texts suggests that it probably is the most accessible connective. Auxiliaries distinguish texts with redundancy while they are also frequently used in temporally- connective texts. This means that the use of auxiliaries does not necessarily imply redundancy; for example in temporally-connective presentation, where so called “neo-auxiliaries” are used to emphasize

188 processes, as was earlier observed.36 In contrast, existential verbs are frequently used as auxiliaries in genres with redundant language use. These provide easy ‘portmanteau’ verbs, expressing aspect with attached adverbial clitics that replace more specific auxiliaries. In spontaneously produced genres with redundant language use auxiliaries seem to be preferred to syntactic Habituals. The same observation can be made for reported speech.37 The co-occurrence of modal auxiliaries with short infinitives can be explained by the time constrains on ad hoc production. The speaker saves production time by the use of these lexical expressions of aspect and can anticipate the rest of the production whereas the use of syntactic aspect requires inflection and derivation of the verb root. Regarding the Imperfect future, it is noteworthy that this inflection in the second singular seems to be absent in well-prepared texts and that it occurs significantly in work orders. In section 4.2.3 I explained that I tagged consecutive forms as Imperfects if they follow an Imperfect Future or an Imperative 2 SG. Work orders represent a strict chronological ordering of procedures as clear instruction requires. The genre never has more than one Imperative in a sentence, since each clause with an Imperative is followed by a consecutive (second person) carrying the same mood. Main procedures are expressed with Imperatives whereas detailed instructions are expressed with consecutive forms (tagged as Imperfect Futures). Consecutives occur frequently in spontaneously produced work orders. It represents the easiest means to provide structure, since the main order is expressed with a different form. In contrast, church songs represent loosely structured texts, and therefore exhibit sequences of Imperatives without consecutive forms. In work orders ‘future 2 SG’ forms represent consecutive constructions that co-occur with Imperatives. This co-occurrence represents redundancy, because it is the easiest way to structure procedural texts. The use of relative locative clauses reduces the need for more specific lexical references to place. Relative locative clauses modify phrases preceded by ínaní;íyaní ‘there.’ This anaphoric reference is followed by an inflected form with the locative affix –ëë ‘where… at that very place’ resulting in constructions like ‘There where they arrived at that very place (they discovered …).’ Such relative locative phrases often repeat the verb of a main clause that occurred prior to it. For instance: “They were about to arrive, and there, where they arrived, at that very place they discovered …’ etc. Locative clauses can be used as instant cohesive devices that ‘repeat’ available material from a previous sentence. Adverbs are most often used to describe the manner of an action. The morphological class of adjectival roots, which is used in uninflected form for the making of adverbs, is limited and easily accessed in comparison to the open class of highly specified ideophones that could also be used for descriptions. The choice of an adverb represents an easy alternative. Although onomatopoeic ideophones are used in ad hoc production,38 most ideophones form part of fixed collocations and consequently index skilled storytellers. Adverbs are easier to produce and therefore reflect redundant language use. The absence of negation prefixes in texts with high amounts of redundancy might be related to the effort that their correct use requires. Negation prefixes for Imperfect and Perfect are different and can be differentiated for mood too (see table 3.31). Animal stories, which are addressed to young

36Aspect is important in a temporally-connective presentation of events. In storytelling changes in aspect indicate for changes in tempo that are exploited for dramatic emphasis (Asangama 1983:366,7 calls the auxiliaries that express inchoative, perfective and volitional aspect in French: ‘neo-auxiliaires’). 37Speech genres seem to exhibit a significant use of existential auxiliaries while hardly any TMA specifications are used to distinguish between speech genres (see the results for the mini-corpus of embedded genres, presented in chapter 6). 38It is not surprising that the genre of ghost stories, with its impromptu production at mourning sessions, also represents the story genre with the most onomatopaeic ideophones. Ideophones are not distinctive of redundancy, apparently because ideophones represent a heterogeneous category (on the one hand it represents the onomatopaeic ideophones with effortless production and on the other hand the ideophones that require well prepared production).

189 relatives have many rhetoric questions such as ‘What did he find?’ followed by a negative answer with iconically used ideophones: ‘He found silence (a whispered: WOOOOH!).’ The negated verbal phrase (e.g. “he did not find any plant.”) seems to be avoided by the use of rhetoric questions. The significant use of interrogative pronouns as positive distinction in this dimension may be related to the use of rhetoric questions, as just mentioned. Language use that exploits rhetorical questions and avoids negation is often used addressing children. Polite vocatives may be significantly absent in such texts that are redundant on purpose. The absence of negation that co-occurs with rhetorical questions and interrogative pronouns might reflect the speaker’s intention to facilitate comprehension of the text by younger addressees. In that case the young age of the average addressee of such genres results in the absence of polite vocatives. In well-prepared texts the speech introducing temporally-connective is significantly absent. In songs it can be even omitted preceding reported speech. The fifth cluster distinguishes spontaneously produced language use with adverbs rather than ideophones and with auxiliaries rather than syntactic aspect. Rather than idiomatic expressions, adverbials are used with situated references.39 The last category plays a distinctive role in the sixth dimension, that is discussed next.

5.2.5.3 Conclusion about the Fifth Dimension

In this section the co-occurring distinctions of the fifth dimension were interpreted functionally. The resulting analysis is that the fifth dimension is manifest in linguistic redundancy. This redundancy can be explained by the production circumstances. It also may reflect didactic attempts to make a text easier to understand for the addressee.

5.2.6 Budu Sixth Dimension : Performative Use of Language

The sixth dimension of language use variation in Budu is determined by a performative use of language. This interpretation of the sixth complementary distribution in the corpus will now be explained. The sixth cluster represents the least important distinction of language use in the researched corpus, because it is represented by only ten features. The performative dimension reflects particularities that mark institutional settings. Institutional settings and the genres that are associated with it, are distinguished by a cluster of only ten core forms. Seven forms co-occur as positive distinctions of the (positively) distinguished genres and three co-occur as its negative distinctions. Ten genre markers are included in table 5.F. They facilitate an analysis of the contrast that is distinguished by this cluster, but they are not included as distinctions of the dimension, since they have no complementary distribution. This cluster only has three negative members. The ration between positive and negative members of the sixth cluster in combination with the small amount of its total members implies that this represents communication that is explicitly marked as such. Positive co-occurrences of the cluster mark highly distinguished language use.

39Qualitative analyses suggest that some morpho-syntactic categories that I used are composed of sub-categories with a distinct behaviour. Existential verbs that function as auxiliaries reflect a high degree of redundancy, whereas lexically-specific auxiliary verbs require more effort in text production. Also idiomatic expressions represent a mixed category with instant collocations and formulaic expressions, as was mentioned before (in section 5.2.4.2 and in the footnotes 29 and 32). Finally, the category of ideophones is composed of, on the one hand onomatopaeic, and, on the other hand also highly specified ideophones. The use of these latter indexes skilled narrators. Despite this nuance, auxiliaries occur as markers of redundancy, because most auxiliaries represent existential verbs that occur in combination with conditionals or with long infinitives.

190 The table with the overview of the complementary distribution (table 5.F) lists ten features. The cluster of these co-occurring features is never significantly absent in the set of genres listed in the right hand columns. At the same time it is never significantly missing in the set of genres in the left hand columns. Like the other clusters, this pattern of co-occurrence therefore seems to have a distinctive function. The features in the middle column are ordered from the one with the most important, to the one with the least important contribution to the distinction. The point of departure again is the complementary distribution as visualised in table 5.F:

table 5.F sixth selection of the correlation matrix representing the sixth complementary distribution with three forms in the lower half that exhibit a reverse distribution over the same genres cultr med dram work pact prov riddl trick life ghos indiv party parbl anim circ churc 0 0 0 0 - 0 - idiom. expr. ------1 1 - 0 ------optatives - - - - - 1 1 1 1 0 - 0 - - - - past PTC - 1 - 1 - - 1 - - 0 - - - 0 - - Perfect 1 SG - - 1 - - 0 - - - - long INF - - 1 - - - - - 1 - - 0 - - - - HAB 3 SG ------1 1 - - - - 0 - - IPF PR 1 PL ------1 ------(intrj oí ‘yes’) - - - - 1 - - 1 ------(Intrj HUU?)! - - - 1 ------(oath voc) ------1 ------(IPFPR 2 PL) ------1 ------IPF F. 3 PL ------1 ------(Rev. order) ------1 1 ------(HAB 3 PL) ------1 - -

1 1 - - - - - conditionals 0 ------0 - 1 - - - - 1 short inf. ------0 1 ------comparbanî ------0 - 1 - - - 1 - (attrib. adj.) ------(adv. tá) ------0

The seven genres in the left columns ‘describe’ rather than ‘perform’ actions. In those desciptions short infinitives and conditionals are used to describe situations and goals, while attributive adjectives and comparisons are used to describe objects and participants. Non-performative genres represent contexts where actions are discussed, evaluated, described or even ridiculed (drama, pact stories). In contrast, the nine ‘performative’ genres exhibit a language use that can accomplish changes, for instance, ‘singing’ a novice or circumcision partner ‘into’ a real man, or a young man into groom or husband. The seven most ‘performative’ genres represent semi-official institutes in Budu culture. Outside the ‘own’ Budu institutional context, information needs to be explained, since its interpretation is not merely determined by cultural conventions. Perhaps this explains that non-performative genres tend to be descriptive. Two story genre appear at the rigth side of the table. They are distinguished as performative genres by their absence of reverse co-occurrences of the sixth cluster. In other words, there is no non-performative feature that occurs significantly in those genres. On top of this characterisation, the two genres contain respectively lies of the trickster and mocking songs in which ghosts are mocked. Both embeddings are characterised by performative language use. This probably makes the texts of ghost stories and trickster stories sound performative, rather than non-performative. Following Austin (1962) the contrast is labelled performative versus ‘constative’ or non- performative, implying that this language use seems to be instrumental in accomplishing changes in Budu society. The use of, for instance, a blessing song during the painful circumcision ceremony

191 represents a speech act that, in itself, contributes to the process of healing of the novices. First-person, in combination with third-person forms and with one second-person form, are used to assert the speakers’ intention, such as: ‘(I wish) that you may do well’, sung to the novices in circumcision or ‘I praise Him’, about the Creator, sung by a pastor. Use of the optative is typical for the expression of yet to be accomplished actions in such blessings and other performative genres. With respect to the performative dimension communication, the genres animal stories and circumcision songs exhibit more resemblances than were observed with respect to community involvement. These similarities are noteworthy , considering that the one genre is narrative while the other is a song genre. Shared distinctions seem to depend entirely on the performative nature of the distinguished language use in the genres. Less surprising similarities exist between circumcision songs and church songs, both representing group-song genres. A different type of group-song genres is represented by party songs (wedding-, drink- and dance songs), which only resemble circumcision songs by their significant use of genre marker oí ‘yes!’ Party songs do not exhibit the significant use of any of the dimensions’ distinctive features and are considered as performative since they do not have significant absence of these forms either. Although all group-song genres are distinguished as performative language use, a considerable difference seems to exist between song genres. At this point the main interest lies in the common function that these vastly different genres share. Although wedding songs and circumcision songs exhibit many differences in the number of positive performative distinctions they exhibit, both genres are used to help members of society through important changes.

5.2.6.1 Overview of Distinctive Features of the Sixth Dimension

In chapter 7 the function of this dimension is further interpreted by means of of a contrastive analysis of the two sets of contrasted genres. In this chapter only the cluster of forms is functionally interpreted. Consider table 5. FF with the ten distinctions of the sixth dimension:

Table 5.FFdimension of performative language use cultr dram med pact work prov riddl party trick ghos parb indv life anim circ chur 0 0 0 - 0 0 - idiom. Expr. ------1 1 - 7 0 ------optatives - - - 1 - - 1 1 1 5 0 0 - - - - past partic - - 1 - 1 - - - - 4 0 - - 0 - - - Perfect 1 SG - - - - 1 3 - 0 - - - - - long INF - - - - - 1 - - 1 3 - 0 - - - - - HAB 3 SG ------1 1 3 - - - 0 - - - IPF PR 1 PL ------1 2

1 - 1 - - - - conditionals - 0 ------0 4 - - 1 - - - 1 short inf. ------0 2 1 ------compar.banî ------0 2 6 4 3 2 1 1 1 - 1 1 1 1 2 2 3 7

In the discussion of the fifth dimension, the genre of animal stories was observed to exhibit an easy kind of language that seems to be geared towards children. In this sixth dimension the genre is in contrast with the communication in medical information, work orders proverbs, and pact stories. It seems not without importantance that these genres reflect the unequal relation between speaker (experienced) and addressee (the one who learns). Animal stories, like other genres at the right half of table 5.F, reflect the lack of such hierarchy; in contrast they are used to affirm the solidarity between members of the same group, solidarity for example between children who tell each other animal stories.

192 5.2.6.2 Role of Sixth-Dimension Features

Most of the positively distinguished genres in dimension 6, are also distinguished for community- involved language. The co-occurrences with idiomatic expressions seem to express solidarity, consider table 5.FFF:

Table 5.FFF co-occurring forms in genres with performative function, forms relating to asserted speech acts in bold print; forms relating to accomplishment in italics.

1. Idiomatic Expressions ( 7 distinctions) 2. Optative Verb forms ( 5 distinctions) 3. past Participle Constructions (4 distinctions) 4. NO conditionals (4 distinctions) 5. Perfect first person singular ( 3 distinctions) 6. Long Infinitives (3 distinctions) 7.Habitual Verb Forms third person singular ( 3 distinctions) 8. Imperfect present first person plural ( 2 distinctions) 9. NO Short Infinitives; ( 2 distinctions) 10. NO comparative banî (Imperfect present second plural) (Habitual verb forms third person plural) (Imperfect Future third person plural) (Oath Vocative) (NO Attributive Adjectives)

The forms in italic print in table 5.FFF relate to accomplishments. Past Participles are often used to emphasize Perfect verb forms (see section 3.5.1.4). In contrast to possible accomplishments that are considered by the speaker with conditionals and short infinitives (see section 3.5.2.4), the past Participle is used to refer to real facts. Therefore also the absence of conditionals and short infinitives relates to an emphasis on accomplishments. The use of the forms in bold print in table 5.FFF has in common that it affirms the solidarity by including both speaker and hearers in an activity (‘I hereby declare you married’, ‘we bless you with this song’, ‘ I/we praise God’, ‘He continues to prepare a place for us’, etc). Similar to the use of ‘we- inclusive’ forms in the well-prepared genres,40 the use of inflection in this cluster seems to include both Hearer and Speaker in the same activity, as the forms in bold print indicate. The forms that distinguish performative communication in Budu exhibit a noteworthy similarity with the statements of solidarity that Brown and Levinson (1987) discovered in relation to politeness. In order to preserve social personhood, egalitarian societies seem to have developed linguistic politeness policies that include positive strategies to redress the affront to the hearer’s ‘face’ or in other words ‘social person.’ The focus on face threatening acts in the literature has led to a neglect of the original notion where the speaker works hard to shape and uphold the dignity of social personhood, as Cheng (2001) noticed (in Büllow-Muller 2005:30). Egalitarian societies exhibit the maintanance of a ‘solidarity face’, instead of a ‘competence face’ (Büllow-Muller 2005:31). ‘Face’ can only be preserved when it is recognised by a show of trust from the part of the addressee(s). It is not surprising that linguistic politeness is expressed in Budu by positive strategies that preserve social personhood in particularly those genres where it undergoes important changes by marriage, circumcision, church affiliation or the like. Consider the eight points originally

40These forms have been discussed in 5.2.5.2.

193 mentioned by Brown and Levinson (1987:101-129 as summarised in Foley 1997: 271-2) in their analysis of positive politeness strategies:

1. Attend to the Hearers interests, needs, wants. ‘You look sad. Can I do anything?’ 2. Use solidary in-group identity markers ‘Hey mate, can you lend me your cutlery?’ 3. Be optimistic ‘I’ll just come along, if you don’t mind’ 4. Include both the Speaker and the Hearer in activity ‘If we help each other, I guess, we’ll manage’ 5. Offer or promise ‘If you light the fire’, I‘ll wash the dishes.’ 6. Exaggerate interest in the Hearer and his interests ‘That is a nice paint; where did you get it?’ 7. Avoid disagreement ‘Yes, it’s rather long; not short certainly.’ 8. Joke ‘What a hoot’

All these strategies are expressions of the interdependency of community members and can be interpreted as attempts to make the Hearer feel good about their social identity and their attributes. Such strategies, are, when used in egalitarian societies,41 diametrically opposed to linguistic politeness strategies on which hierarchically-structured class societies depend to preserve their social identity. In class societies social identity is seen in terms of autonomy and freedom of interference. In hierarchically structured class societies the use of solidarity markers and the expression of optimism concerning the other person’s solidarity represent possible threats. These two strategies are listed among the eight positive politeness strategies of Brown and Levinson above. The distinctive forms of the performative cluster are discussed now in relation to these eight strategies. Optatives are used to attend to the addressees’ need. A need that is, for instance,addressed in circumcision songs to help the novice’s bear their pain is the expressed speech act ‘behave well.’ Optatives may also formulate optimistic attitudes towards the addressee, affirming the audience in their roles (‘peace be with you all’). Idiomatic expressions are in-group solidarity markers. They represent values and conventions that bind the audience together as a sub-group of the speakers of the language.42 The vagueness of idiomatic expressions also is a safe means of expression if one wants to avoid disagreement (cf. the use of political jargon). In the appendix 5.E, more details about the function of idiomatic expressions as solidarity markers in Budu are included. Oath vocatives are typically used to express solidarity. The speakers appeal to their most intimate relatives, namely in the baná b‘înaá ‘children of mother’. In this literal translation of the expression the addressees are approached as peers. The speaker can rely on these peers because of the age-mates solidarity among them (they belong to the same generation). The appeal is followed by a solemn declaration that speaker commits her or himself to guarantee the truth of a particular statement (that they will never leave somebody for example). Solidarity is expressed while a speaker shifts their own responsibility for a promise partly to the group of listeners. From the moment of the oath swearing, the speaker and the addressees are both witnesses of a commitment expressed in the oath. The oath vocative is discussed in more detail later in this book (in the sections 6.4.3 and 8.3.1.2). Next to the

41Evans-Pritchard (1971) describes societies with patrilineal descent and a social organisation in segmentary lineages or clans in North Eastern Congo as egalitarian societies. Budu society is no exception to what Evans- Pritchard describes as egalitarian society. Vansina (1990:174) in his book about the History of the Political Tradition of Equatorial Africa presents the Budu as group with a strong district organisation in which the leader symbolises rather than leads the group. Vansina (1990:193) stresses “the egalitarian ideals implied in witchcraft” as co-existing with big men (ngámá, see p.175). These men are considered to be equal to the others, with as only difference that they had the supernatural luck to be selected as leaders. This is similar to what Budu authors, including Mukonji, Mukombozi (1984), state about the traditional leadership, that it did not imply a hierarchical society, it provided the structure that was needed for the population to be mobilised during war times or to solve problems in crisis situations and for the re-distribution of goods in three month periods of drought. 42This can be compared with the use of formulaic expressions in academic English, Nattinger 2001 and the lexis that Swales 1990:24-27 mentions in relation to the discourse community.

194 expression of solidarity, oath vocatives are used for special promises (cf. the 5th strategy in the list with positive politeness strategies). In chapter 6 the speech genres embedded in trickster stories (guarantees of the trickster) and ghost stories (mocking songs) are discussed. The distinctions of guarantees include the oath vocative and the second person pronoun (see the tables 6.A and 6.B). In the deceitful lies of the trickster he often emphasizes accomplished facts. This explains the slightly performative distinction of both trickster stories and ghost stories. The italic print in the list above was used for distinctions that relate to the accomplishing of actions. Accomplishments may concern healing (circumcision wounds); blessing (a congregation); marrying (relatives) or other things that are conventionally performed with language in the positively distinguished genres. In performative genres speakers may refer to these changes as if they were already accomplished, using real mood rather than irreal mood. Short infinitives and comparisons are used in descriptions. They do not occur to influence actions. These forms therefore are never significantly used in genres with performative rather than constative function. Conditionals are often used with existential verbs to describe simultaneousness. Joking language use occurs frequently in performative genres and will be illustrated by text excerpts of circumcision songs, party songs, lullabies (invidivual songs) and animal stories in chapter 7.

5.2.6.3 Conclusion about the Sixth Dimension

In conclusion, the sixth cluster of co-occurrence distinguishes communication that affirms the social role of the audience with the expression of positive attitudes (optatives), and the assumption of solidarity (inclusion of speaker and hearer in the same event, oath vocatives). The asserted speech acts can be understood as attempts to accomplish desired changes to help a threatened person who is involved, rather than as descriptions of these changes. Hence this dimension is distinguished by the use of Participle constructions rather than adjectives, the use of long infinitives rather than short infinitives and the use of Imperfect rather than Perfect aspect (except for the speaker). This language use represents an egalitarian community in which the status and power differentials between members are kept to a minimum to avoid threats of the cherished ‘peace.’ Social harmony in such egalitarian societies is typically related to group solidarity or as Brown and Levinson (1987:101-29) describe it, positive politeness strategies are important in order to help community members preserve their social personhood. In this section the co-occurring distinctions of the sixth cluster were interpreted functionally. The resulting analysis is that the sixth dimension is manifest in linguistic distinctions of the positive strategies to guarantee social identity in the egalitarian society of the Budu speakers.

5.3 Co-occurrence and its Operation as Distinction of Communication

Words can be used to express communicative intention. However, for many words no straightforward relation can be established with the communicative intention it expresses. The relation between a single word and its sense in communication is, as suggested by the results in this chapter, far more complex than could be explained from the inherent properties of single words. It is for example impossible to predict the use of a morphological category on basis of its semantic and syntactic properties. Even in the case of Imperatives, that seem to represent a direct expression of directive intentions in Budu, Imperatives do not simply ‘express orders.’ In isolated statements orders may be

195 expressed with imperatives, but in procedural genres, such as the ‘work order’, consecutives are used to express most orders (see section 3.5.2.3). At text level consecutives can be interpreted as expressions of orders, and their recognition as such is probably facilitated by their predictable co-occurrence with the two other forms. If Imperatives and vocatives occur in the same text with these forms in the consecutive inflection with final H, it is easy to recognise the expression of orders in Budu. Imperatives provide an illustration of the complex relation between linguistic forms and expressions of communicative intention in texts. The intention with an expression can only be interpreted if predictive (and therefore conventional) co-occurrences of that expression are taken into account, for these determine what language users tend to expect.

5.4 Conclusion about Conventional Language Use

In this chapter, six clusters of co-occurrence were presented and discussed. The language use in the researched corpus was first described in terms of the forms that occur as distinctions of individual genres (table 5). Then similarities in the distribution of forms distinguishing the same sets of genres were considered, leading to six clusters of forms that co-occur in particular main genres with complementary distribution over the sixteen main genres of the corpus. This was demonstrated in the sub-tables 5 A – F. The sub-tables 5 A - F represent several selections of the correlation matrix table 5. Several dimensions of communication seem to be distinguished by the co-occurrence of distinctive forms. When the distinguished genres are considered, each set of genres not only shares a co- occurrence of the same distinctive forms, it also shares a function in communication. The dimensions of communication manifest in the researched corpus concern: 1. the temporally-connective presentation of historic/fictitious events, 2. the explicit expression of information, 3. directive appeals on the addressee(s) 4. involvement of the community 5. redundancy of language use to facilitate comprehension or simply reflecting ad hoc production 6. institutional performance of speech acts These six dimensions seem to matter in Budu. In chapter 7 the same dimensions are described as parameters of language use while the corresponding genres are investigated in contrastive analyses. Appendix 5.A presents an overview of about sixty forms that occur in the various clusters. The six distinctive clusters reflect different dimensions of communication, as indicated in the headings of the six vertical columns in this appendix. In the other appendices to chapter 5, some features are discussed in more detail, because their function is specific to Budu.

196 Appendix 5.A Distinctinctive Clusters of 6 Variations of Language Use Cluster of Dimension 1, co-occurs for the Presentation of Events Cluster of Dimension 2, co-occurs for the Expression of Information

1. reported speech NOT less than 9 % 1. locative adverbials 2. impersonal speech introducing ga 2. temporal adverbials 3. Perfect 3 PL 3. NO polite vocatives 4. Temporal anaphora 4. NO Object Prefix 5. NO Imperfect PR 1 SG 5. conditionals/ gerunds (forms on -eni) 6. locative anaphora 6. short Infinitives 7. speech introducer bö ’that; as follows’ 7. NOT less than 2 new words per clause 8. auxiliary 8. NO exclamations ínaawe ‘oh my’ 9. Temporal connectives 9. person anaphora / quantifiers 10. NO Imperfect PR 2 SG 10. less than 70% function words 11. NO pronoun 2 SG 11. relative clause markers for temporal clauses with affix –öö 12. NO exclamation ínaa we ‘oh my’ 12. consecutive verb root prefix 13. relative clause marker for temporal clauses with affix –öö 13. NO pronouns second singular 14. NO person anaphora / quantifiers 14. NO perfect second singulars 15. NO Perfect 2 SG 15. comparative banî 16. NO pronoun 2 PL 16. determiner with Topic Shift 17. relative clause marker for locative clauses with affix –ëë 17. 3 PL pronouns 18. adverbial clitic kû ‘indeed; also; too’ (recurrence marker) 18. coordinating connective 19. modal auxiliaries î 19. comparative adverb ban ‘like’ 20. verbal negation 20. additive nö ‘with; at; to’ 21. adverbs 21. determiner with Topic Shift marker (attributive adjectives) 22. coordinating connective (NO modal connectives ambögobö ‘but actually …’ 23. pronoun 3 PL 24. NO Imperfect PR 1 PL ( NO attributive adjectives) Cluster of Dimension 3, co-occurs for Directive Communication Cluster of Dimension 4, co-occurs for Community-Involved Expression

1. imperative 1. idiomatic expressions 2. vocative 2. vocatives 3. NO temporal adverbial 3. ideophones 4. NO associative marker ö ’of’’ 4. emphatic pronouns 5. Imperfect PR 2 SG 5. Object Prefixes 6. exclamation ínaawe ‘oh my’ 6. past participles 7. NO conditionals/ gerunds (forms on –eni) 7. exclamation ínaawe ‘oh my’ 8. NO consecutive verb prefix 8. NO conditionals/ gerunds (forms on –eni) 9. Perfect 2 SG 9. Habitual 3 SG 10. pronoun second SG 10. NO short infinitives 11. pronoun 2 PL 11. pronouns 2 SG 12. NO relative clause marker for temporal clauses with affix–öö 12. additives nö 13. interrogative pronoun 13. Imperfect FUT 3 SG 14. Imperfect PR 1 PL 14. relative clause marker for locative clause with affix –ëë 15. NO coordinating connective 15. NO verb negation 16. NO determiner with Topic Shift (NO adverbial mitigation) 17. NO pronoun 3 PL (NO adverbial exhortation) 18. NO recurrency marker Kû (NO adjectives) 19. NO modal auxiliary 20. NO adverbs (adverbial clitics expressing Exhortation or Mitigation) Cluster of Dimension 5, co-occurs in Spontaneous Production Cluster of Dimension 6, co-occurs in Performative Language Use

1. NO polite vocatives 1. idiomatic expressions 2. NO Perfect 1 PL 2. Optatives 3. speech introducing bö ‘that’ 3. Past Participles 4. auxiliaries 4. NO conditionals/ gerunds (forms on –eni) 5. IPF FUT 2 SG 5. Perfect 1 SG 6..NO 1 PL pronouns 6. long infinitives 7. short infinitives 7. Habitual 3 SG 8. modal auxiliaries 8. Imperfect PR 1 PL 9. relative clause marker for locative clauses with affix –ëë 9. NO short infinitives 10. adverbs 10. NO comparative banî 11. interrogative pronouns (Imperfect PR 2 PL) 12. recurrency marker kû adverbial clitic (Habitual 3 PL) 13. NO Imperfect PR 1 PL (Imperfect 3 PL) 14. NO verbal Negation (oath vocative) (NO Imperfect FUT 1 PL)

197 APPENDIX 5.B Reported Speech and its Structuring Function in Budu Presentations of Events

Introduction Reported speech is among the text features that are used to present events in Budu (see section 5.2.1.2). Most of these features are used to connect events in a temporal succession or chronology. In section 5.2.1.2, the structuring function of parallel constructions in narrative discourse was mentioned as a cross-linguistic phenomenon. In Budu parallelisms, reported speech is used to announce thematic material that recurs throughout a story text, while dramatic information can be conveyed implicitly, by the effect of meaningful omissions and variations in the recurrences of thematic material. Both thematic material and dramatic information are presented in Budu by use of reported speech. The conventions for this particular use of reported speech need to be discussed in this appendix, because they are specific to Budu. A discussion of reported speech also clarifies its co-occurrence with other distinctions of temporally connected genres. Appendix 5.B contains an explanation on the operation of reported speech as a device to distinguish background and mainline, to present thematic elements, to launch dramatic clues and to describe discourse participants without the use of adjectives. Included is an explanation for the significant absence of attributive adjectives in the first cluster of co-occurrence.

The Use of GA, Petrified Impersonal Speech Verb Mainline reported speech and background reported speech are distinguished by the use of GA, an impersonal uninflected form. Mainline speech contributes to the development of the story, whereas background speech provides detailed background information. The impersonal form ga ‘say’ introduces verbal exchanges of secondary importance. Clauses with ga usually do not contribute to the storyline in Budu Nita.1 The impersonal form ga ‘say’ is used to introduce speech that follows in reaction on reported speech that is introduced by asugo ‘he or she said’. The inflected speech verb usually contains

1 Although the main dialects of Budu, Budu Koya and Budu Nita, differ in their particular use of direct speech, reported speech is used in all dialects to differentiate mainline information from background information. Indirect speech is used to distinguish background information in Budu Koya (and by some users of the Nita dialect; in pact story 6 on tape 1 for instance). Indirect speech frequently occurs in the setting of episodes (Pastor Awilikilango, personal communication during the discussion of Koya narrative texts). This use of indirect speech is often introduced in Koya by the form gü, that corresponds to Budu Nita ga, or example in:

Bi-sí mû-nganá gü Botosa bü a-küsa akú sípé. CL-day CL- one SAY name that to.INF-catch to fishes A certain day Botosa planned to go fishing.

In the framework relevance theory gü was analysed as a hearsay-marker for Koya, because it is used to indicate that the speaker is not sure that the reported speech is true (Anzetaka 2003). Using this hearsay marker, speakers let others know that they only present speech as it was overheard by them. In the storytelling line about Botosa, this would imply that Botosa was heard to tell others about her plans to go fishing. The most important aspect of the use of gü in Budu Koya seems to be that the described action is not presented as an accomplished fact.

198 the main information, while the reported speech that follows is of secondary importance, as introduced by the uninflected ga. In table 5.B1 the use of ga is printed in bold to provide an idea of its use. Table 5.B1 concerns a story fragment that is schematised for expository reasons. The Budu text has episodes with a recurring sequence of events. Each time the lines 8-13 are repeated as in the lines 14 to 20, with only subtle variations:

Table 5.B1 GA introduces exchanges of secondary importance2

EPISODE TWO 8. When he left for a trip, 2. at that moment he met with Snake on the road, 9. Snake asked (omubokúo) Bakyatani:, “Human being, where do you go ?” 10. (Ga) Say he to Snake : “I am looking for my wife. 11. She left yesterday for her family, actually it was a while ago,” 12. (Ga) Say Snake : “I will be with you.” 13. Snake then, he too left for a trip.

EPISODE THREE 14. They approached a crossing point of two rivers, 15. At the moment when they now met a log. 16. The log (omubokúo) asked Snake: “Human being, where do you go ?” 17. (Ga) Say he to him : “I am following Snake. 18. He follows Bakyatani, who is looking for his wife.” 19. (Ga) Say the other animal : “I will be with you.” 20. The other animal then also left for a trip.

The text of the story continues with a series of persons who all decide to follow Bakyatani. Each new person is introduced in a new setting, as the start of a new episode that is almost identical to the previous episodes. The story provides an example of the use of petrified speech marker ga ‘say’. In each episode a fully inflected Perfect is used for the setting of each new dialogue. In line 9 the inflected verb o-mu-bukúo ‘he asked him’ is used. Inflected speech verbs seem to occur in the opening of dialogues only. This restriction results in a rare use of inflected speech verbs in comparison to the frequent occurrences of the impersonal ga. The mainline of the story stands out against a multitude of phrases introduced by ga it is marked by inflected verbs like asugo ‘she said’, see for example the lines 8 to 20 in which four occurrences of ga against two occurrences of an inflected speech verb (omubokúo ‘he asked’) can be observed.

Recurrences of Reported Speech

Recurrences of reported speech are used to structure sequences of events as stories, as in the episodes of table 5.B1. Several characteristics of reported speech qualify it as a means to structure texts. Most characteristics are universal to human language and need not be explained here.3 Particular

2 Fragment from a riddle story about Bakyatani (text 2 on tape 7). 3 All quotes are ‘marked’ in comparison to the language that is used in the main genre. Embedding, by the alternate nature of its language use, provides a certain structure, which supports other acoustic effects in the oral tradition of storytelling. As far as I know the differentiation between background and mainline information as discussed in articles about ‘grounding’ (Hopper and Thompson 1988; Tomlin (1987); Longacre 1992), does not in particular

199 characteristics of Budu reported speech qualify it as structuring device in narrative texts. They are dependent on conventions that do not follow from the inherent properties of these features of the first dimension. Some conventions are discussed here in detail because their function clarifies the importance of reported speech in the most important dimension of variation in Budu. The first convention is use of the first reported speech to launch the thematic elements of a story. Although no other story is as repetitive as the one of Bakyatani (of table 5.B1), the convention of recurring episodes is similar in all other texts of narrative genre. Thematic elements recur in the same order in each new episode be it with the same words or with alternative formulations. Please consider the animal story about Friend Crocodile and Friend Monkey. It would require too much space to discuss the entire text in this appendix. Table 5.B2 therefore gives a schematic overview of all parallel episodes in this story. Each episode is visualised with a separate column. The story starts with a request of Chief Crocodile. He asks Friend Crocodile to deliver food for his guests at a party that is held at the centre of the river. The requested food consists of Friend Monkey’s heart. The request of chief Crocodile occurs in direct speech in column zero. Its repetition presents a skeleton of thematic information. Throughout the story all thematic information is repeated in dialogues (see bold print). Each column presents a new episode and should be read from top to bottom before the next column is read. Column 1 presents the first recurrence of thematic material. Friend crocodile tells Friend Monkey at the riverside about the party. In column 2 the second recurrence of the same thematic material is presented. Friend crocodile informs Monkey, who is now taking a ride on Crocodile’s back about the details of the food that he is to deliver. The last column represents the closing episode of this animal story. Consider the five episodes of the story lined up as columns:

Table 5.B2 Schematised overview of the recurring thematic elements in an animal story4 (each column represents an episode)

1st EPISODE 2nd EPISODE 3rd EPISODE 4th EPISODE CLOSURE 0. Chief Croc 1. Friend Croc says: 2. Friend Croc says: 3. Friend Monkey Friend Monkey says: says: says: (upon escape) “HUU! AYOO! “HUU! AYOO! “A party is held “Come to the party “Chief said that for Since your chief holds that my chief holds his party: a party, why didn’t you tell me that Monkey’s heart is At the rivers centre He needs your heart He needs my heart, needed (heart) monkey why do you inform me Mütïmá Mütïmánï Mütïmá now that we are on the river, we monkeys Keep our heart at home! Mütïmá Many guests There will be Many To feed You really want to eat me?! guests Will be fed.” ….” Many guests.” … Monkey says: (ga) Let’s pick it up before I will never arrive there!” How will I get to the we arrive at the party…” rivers centre (heart) mütïmánï ? Croc says (ga): I will bring you there. include the genre of language use and its various aspects. A comparison of embedded speech with the language used in main genres suggests that mainline information and background information are distinguished because of genre-distinctions, see section 6.7. 4 Text 2 on tape 1.

200

Table 5.B2 maintains the original order of the storytelling to expose parallelisms. At four different occasions similar recurrences of reported speech are used. The original request of chief crocodile and its threefold repetition (numbered 1-3) provide a story-structure by their parallelism. In each of the five episodes the direct speech is introduced with an inflected speech verb (see the underlined words). Secondary exchanges, e.g. in the second episode, when Crocodiles offers a lift to bring Monkey to the party, are introduced with a simple ga:

Ga jïnï ná-yö bö “Deto a-kûû ö mü-köngü ng-üwö-sëmî, Says Croc ADD-him that climb.IMP CL-top of CL –back DET-REL-mine 12. Crocodile told him : “Climb on my back.”

Na-kyënda-ka nö-üwë bö tîî kû.dhö na-na-bo-íso.” IPF.1SG- go-REP ADD-you that IDEOPH then IPF.1SG-OP2SG arrive–CAUS 13. “I will depart with you like lightning and consequently I make sure you arrive.”

The mainline of the story continues with Crocodile’s confronting Monkey with his murderous plan (third episode). This is introduced with an inflected speech verb. In line 12 some details of Monkey’s trip to the party are introduced with petrified speech introducer ga. The three elements that were announced in the first reported speech recur in the mainline of the story: 1. the party, 2. the heart/centre-of-the-river and 3. the guests to be fed (see bold print in table 5.B2). Table 5.B2 illustrates one convention that is discussed. Strictly repeated elements function, because of their presentation in comparable order, as an acoustic grid in Budu stories. This grid facilitates the immediate recognition of any omissions or variations. Omissions in the second and fourth episode are indicated with dots. They tell their wordless story about Crocodiles’ and Monkey’s different levels of intelligence. When friend Crocodile repeats his Chief’s announcement of the party, its location at the centre of the river (mütïmánï) and even the guests recur. The only thing Crocodile tactfully omits is the reference to the food. The dots in column 1 of table 5B.2 indicate this omission. In the reaction of Monkey (he asks Crocodile how to get to the centre of the river (mütïmánï) the word for riverbed is repeated ominously. This dramatic clue is presented as background information, however, the immediate repetition of the sound mütïmá as in ‘heart’ signals to the audience that dramatically important information is being launched. The storyteller merely seems to add this exchange to launch the clue for the dramatic development with the mütïmánï variation on mütïmá ‘heart.’ This homophonic variation has the meaning ‘centre of the river; deep river bed.’ It represents an acoustic signal of dramatic importance, recognised as such since it was mentioned in the first direct speech of the same story. This illustrates the second convention that is discussed here. The second dialogue between Crocodile and Monkey takes place on the river. During his trip to the party Monkey can not possibly escape, so Crocodile repeats Chiefs’ request this time without tactful omissions about ‘feeding the guests Monkeys heart.’ The third repetition consists of Monkey’s reproach. Budu reproaches normally announce a friendship’s disrupture and tragic end. This is what the audience could expect after crocodile’s information concerning the party food. However, since breaking the friendship would in this case deprive Monkey of his transport to the safe riverside, Monkey seems to recapture himself. This composure can be induced from the quoted words of the reproach, which Monkey continues with feigned indignation about a certain problem: he was not notified before. If he would have known previously, he would not have ‘left his heart home’, like ‘travelling monkeys usually do.’ Monkey turns the expected reproach for being threatened into an unexpected reproach for not being notified. In the fourth episode the word ‘heart’ mütïmá is repeated with insistence.The repetition of the combination of ‘centre of the river’ mütïmánï and ‘heart’ mütïmá (in the reproach ‘O what, why did

201 you, now that we are at the centre of the river, not tell me that your chief needs my heart?’) rings a bell with the audience. In the second episode this combination of homophonic words was used to introduce the dramatic clue. By convention the acoustic signal is now repeated, alerting the audience that the climax is approaching. This convention was introduced as the second one discussed in this section. In discussing the first cluster of co-occurring elements in section 5.2.1.2, the observation was made that adjectives, adverbs and quantifiers never significantly occur in Budu stories. This observation can be explained by the effect of recurrences with reported speech. Reported speech recurrences have an effect similar to the description of discourse participants. Variation and omission in itself are used to describe the participants, making any explicit descriptions of the main characters redundant, as the closure of this story illustrates. In reaction to the reproach, friend Crocodile simply turns around without further comment. While he returns to collect the ‘forgotten’ heart at Monkey’s place, Monkey jumps to the first trees within his reach upon approaching the safe riverside. Monkey’s final reproach is not feigned. It announces the end of the friendship between Crocodiles and Monkeys. Its final occurrence conveys the audience of Monkey’s skill to compose himself as he apparently has succeeded to, in the earlier ‘reproach.’ The mere effect of repeated dialogues with their subtle variations implies this characterisation of Monkey. No descriptions of Monkey’s or Crocodile’s character are needed to convey the audience of the smartness of Monkey and the naiveness of Crocodile. The use of attributive adjectives and quantifiers seems redundant in temporally-connective structures, where the repetition of reported speech ‘describes’ the participants in their own scenic way. The schematised episodes of table 5.B2 may seem artificial. To provide more illustrations, a story that is going to be discussed in chapter 7 is summarised in this appendix. Its thematic elements are underlined (convention 1) and its dramatic information printed in capitals (convention 2). Consider table 5.B3 for a less schematic presentation of a text than table 5.B2.5 While the thematic elements recur in cycles of A, B and C, as indicated in the right margin, the dramatic information is represented by the repeated collocation (in capitals in the story text itself):

5 For the full pact story see section 7.2.1.6.

202

Table 5.B3 Summarised text with recurring thematic elements in underlining, correspondences marked with capitals in the right-hand margin

1. Upon marrying his wife, a certain man gave her the following instruction:

Akö-sugo bö: Wö-sî–éni i-dyo inani akö ï-káa y-ö sóòko, A PROG- say that: 2SG-cook-COND CL-food there at CL-house CL-of cooking, 2. Saying: “When you are cooking food over there, in the cooking house”,

Wa-tï-kana kömû,wa-tï–paka kömû ínaní KÜ BANÏ; B PF.2SG-OPT-taste NEG PF.2SG-OPT-divide NEG there too likewise, 3. “Don’t taste it, don’t EVEN divide it”, COLLOCATION kü banî I-ká na-yö tá kû íyaní a-pëï a-sëmî! C IMP-come ADD-CL just too there at –front at-my.place 5. “Just bring it in front of me, there in my place.”

M-oí ng-ïya-anani ö-kïa-kö tîa KÜ BANÏ; NB REPEATED CL-woman DET-REL-there HPF.3SG-do-REP now too likewise COLLOCATION 6. That wife from then on indeed made it her habit to EVEN do things like that.

During many days she acted according those instructions of her husband. 7. Now one day she places her food pot on the fire with pieces of meat in it. 8. She went to make a little trip to the water source. 9. She told her husband “Keep an eye at the pot for me too, don’t let it burn completely!” 10. She went on her way and left for the water source. Íyaní a-mbise á-ngö, gue ö-ngwïa kyënda a-nïsa There CL-back CL-LOG, man CONS.3SG-go travel INF-go 11. Just the moment after she left, the man made a little trip

Ínaní akö ï-káa y-ö sóòko. A there to CL-house CL-of cooking to go there, to the cooking place.

Ö-gana ïköchô, ö-sïka kanya, B CONS.3SG–open CL-pot CONS.3SG-take fork, 12. After he opened the pot, took a fork,

ö-chüma i-ngingi y-ö a-njïbö; CONS.3SG –pierce CL-piece CL-of CL-meat pierced one piece of the meat,

Ö-naba-na ná-yö a-mbise ö u-mongu, a-nïdya tá ínaní. half of C CONS.3SG–hide–REFL ADD-CL CL-backside of CL-door PF-3SG-eat just there. 13. and hid himself behind the door, he ate it just there. 14. A very short while and his wife returned from the source.

Ö-kö-mü-bok-íso (kö)MÛ KÜ BANÏ bö: CLIMAX HPF.3SG-NEG-OP3SG-greet –CAUS not too like as-follows: NEGATED 15. She had NOT EVEN asked him: COLLOCATION

“W-a gba-ní-e”? IPF2SG-be where-INT-eh? “Hello, where are you?”

Ö-kö-mbîö (kö)MÛ KÜ BANÏ ANNOUNCED HPF.3SG-NEG –know not too like NB NEGATED 16. She had NOT EVEN gathered COLLOCATION

203

ö swaï ö-sö gba-nî. as-follows: husband HPF.3SG-go where-INT where her husband had gone.

Ö-gana ïyô kû ï-köchö,ö-sïka kanya, CONS-3SG-open she too CL-pot, CONS3SG–take fork, 17. After she opened the pot as well, B

ö-chüma kû i-ngingi y-ö i-dyo; CONS.3SG-pierce too CL-piece CL –of CL-food, she took a fork, pierced a piece of the food,

Ö-naba-na kû aki a-mbise ö u-mongu. PF.3SG-hide-REC too there CL-backside of CL-door. 18. and she too hid herself there behind the door,

Bö-tö-jonokio nö gue a-ngö tîa kû ínaní C PF.3PL-CONS-meet ADD man CL-hers now too there they then met each other, she and her husband, there.

19. When they met each other, they just stared each other in the eyes. 20. None of them ever told the other anything about it anymore.

First, the thematic information of the story is announced in the lines 2 to 5 with its first direct speech. Thematic elements are underlined and marked with letters in the right-hand margin of table 5.B3. These elements can be paraphrased as:

A. the wife’s ordained place ‘there, in the cooking house’

B. the undesired handling of food that is specified as ‘no tasting’ or ‘dividing’ of the food

C. the desired place of food delivery, specified as ‘just here, in my presence’

In the discussed pact story the three thematic elements are repeated three times (see the margin for an indication of the recurrences of A, B and C). C hilariously refers to a place specified as ‘just there, in my presence.’ The unspoken assumption of both husband and wife seems to be that C this place is somewhere else than in the wife’s ordained place ‘there in the cooking house’(A). Therefore line 19 with the recurrence of C with the implication that the man’s presence has moved to a place ‘behind the kitchen door’ is hilarious. The game with recurrences of thematic material is central to the story that is told in table 5.B3, as it plays with the first convention of strict parallelisms in all episodes. Second, the audience is made aware of the coming climax by repetition of a collocation in line 15 and 16. This repetition can be recognised as the conventional signal to announce the climax, since it is repeating information from the first reported speech (see capital print). An acoustic signal in Budu stories functions like cinematic devices that are repeated from the opening pages of a film. When a special shot of some seemingly arbitrary detail appears on the screen, it alerts the audience that something special is going to happen since this detail from the opening page is repeated. For example, if the camera zooms in on some keys, lost on the floor, the spectators expect these keys to provide the clue to the film, watching for the moment when these keys are in focus again. In themselves, the details represent redundant material. Without this material the story would be understood just as well. Similarly, repeated collocations alert the audience of key dramatic information (see the collocations in capitals print). In itself the discourse particles kû banî and their negation are not very informative. The audience nevertheless recognises by convention where in the story some repeated collocations may represent dramatic clues.

204 Table 5B.3 illustrates the two structures that are present in the average Budu story. One structure is represented by cycles of repeated thematic elements (A, B and C) that recur after their announcement in the first reported speech. The second structure consists of repeated collocations that acoustically signal the dramatic clues to the development of the story. Direct speech functions at several levels to provide a skeleton of background information. Within the episode, reported speech introducers distinguish setting and development of the story. Within the story, reported speech announces the grid of thematic elements. Repeated elements may occur as described actions (for instance in the earlier pact story of table 5.B2) or as reported speech (for instance in the animal story of table 5.B3). In all narrative genres, direct speech is used to announce the thematic elements that will recur throughout the story text. The use of collocations or homophones, because of its immediate repetition, forms an acoustic signal at the beginning of the story. This signal is conventionally repeated prior to the climax. Next to the first mentioned grid of thematic material, collocations represent a second grid of dramatically important material. Reported speech therefore not only distinguishes mainline and background material, it is also used to present the thematic material and to signal information of dramatic importance. Finally, in table 5.B4 the average Budu story is summarised schematically:

Table 5.B4 recurring thematic elements in the average Budu story; the use of reported speech

Introduction

A-njo ü-panü, NPF.3SG-give CL-pact He/She/It gave an order,

Ü-panü w-abio akö-sugo bö: A, B, C (in reported speech) CL-pact PF.CL-be PROGR-say that idem The order implied that: A and B and C needed to be observed.

(a collocation is repeated to introduce the clue to dramatic developments)

A indeed happened/ is mentioned in reported speech B indeed happened/ is mentioned in reported speech C indeed happened/ is mentioned in reported speech

A happened again/ is mentioned in reported speech B happened again/ is mentioned in reported speech C happened again/ is mentioned in reported speech

A happened yet another time/ is mentioned in reported speech (repetition of the particular collocation) as B happened/ is mentioned another time in reported speech

C Climax

Conclusion

In Budu storytelling with its typical temporally-connective presentation, direct speech provides the skeleton of the story. Plans or decisions are presented as reported speech in the opening of most stories in the researched corpus. The stories themselves narrate the accomplishment of plans or some failure to execute such plans. This is most clear in pact stories, where a certain decree (üpanü) is presented in the setting of the story. The protagonist(s) enter a ‘pact’ or abide by the decree nûkönö when they answer with the traditional response to a decree: Oí, nûkö kánï ‘Yes I understood.’ Other story genres nevertheless also repeat thematic elements that occur in the first reported speech (a pact, agreement, promise, lie or plan). Multiple repetitions and variations of direct speech

205 provide the skeleton of the story. Direct speech provides a scenic style in which repetition and variation of details conveys many implicit clues about the dramatic development of stories. The fact that adjectives are never significantly used in genres with temporally-connective presentation can be explained by the function of recurrences of reported speech in these genres: they implicitly provide descriptions of the participants. APPENDIX 5.C Modal Connectives as typical Budu Reference to Shared Knowledge

In section 5.2.2.2 cluster two features were interpreted as distinctions of the expression of information. Texts with co-occurrences of cluster two happen to represent genres with a focus on information, wheter implict shared information or explicit new information. As a genre marker, modal connectives co-occur with features of implicit shared information or knowledge. The use of a modal connective characterises trickster stories. This is not surprising in stories about deceit, since they refer to the double layered reality with their concise ambôgöbö ’while actually.’ The cultural tensions to which the modal connective refers in this genre are discussed under section 7.3.2, in the description of the trickster genre. Since the creative use of modal connectives is discussed in section 8.3.2.3, their allusion to shared knowledge needs to be explained in this appendix. The modal temporally-connective ambôgöbö ’while actually’ consists of four parts. The verb sugo ‘say’ in its petrified form gö ‘one would say’ (the impersonal irreal mode) can be preceded by a negation of the irreal existential verb a-mbö ‘would it not be’ and followed by bö ‘that’ to introduce the reported speech . Literally the temporally-connective ambôgöbö ’while actually’ can be paraphrased as ‘would one not actually say that.’ Modal connectives are used to resume information concerning double layered realities. In the lines 55-57 hidden deceit and its actual exposure are presented as two sides of reality. The trickster Sodu is portrayed while failing to share food with his wives. Sharing food that is collected in the forest is a sensitive social issue (see section 7.3.2). Failing to share food is something that nobody who is watched by others would decide to do. This contributes to the hilarious effect of the lines 55-57:

Sôdhü ïyô akê akö-giso i-kú tá a lisíni. O-ni-tungúo banî Sôdhü him there 3 SG.HAB-throw CL-caterpillar just in river. PF.3SG-HAB-think such 55. Sodu personally threw the caterpillar just in the river. 56. He used to think like follows,

Bö b-oí b-ángö b-angö (kö)mû a-mbîa. Ambôgöbö b-oí ba-mbîa kûtaa. that CL-women CL-his IPF3.PL-NEG not INF-know While.in.fact CL-women PF.3PL-know too that his wives had not noticed. 57. While in fact, the women also knew (this).

The conclusion to this trickster story6 in line 62 is a moral end, and as such it tends to be explicit:

M-ombí a-bio akö-kïa y-ômö y-aka a-bu-sugo súo CL-person IPF.3SG-be PROG-do CL-other CL-here IPF.3SG-OP3PL-tell FUT 62. A person may be doing something else than what he will tell them later (thinking)

bö b-ombí b-angö mü a-mbîa ambôgöbö ba-tá-mbîa

6 Trickster Story By Reverend Ambökö-Bangala recorded on tape 16 text 11 between 1990-‘ 92

206 that CL-person PF.3PL-NEG not INF-know while.in.fact IPF.3PL-just-know that people don’t know (about it), while in fact they just know.

In the lines 55-57 and 62, the modal connective is used to evoke cultural assumptions about social shame. The shared knowledge about the undesired situation in which Sodu finds himself are resumed by use of the concise modal connective. The social shame implied in line’s 62 simple phrase ambôgöbö batá mbîa ‘while actually they just knew’ is a recurring theme in all trickster stories, which thereby provide the audience with an opportunity to ‘laugh’ social tensions ‘away,’ ridiculing them without specifications. More general, a genre marker of trickster stories, modal connectives, is used to emphasize the double-layered nature of some appearance; exposing a reality that exists behind the appearance of things. Trickster stories clarify the kind of information that is left implicit in most story genres. The implied information differs in nature from the information that is specified in explicit communication. Whereas specifications of information refer to unknown, technical details of, for instance, palm tree climbing, fishing or cooking healthy meals, allusions to implied information refer to a shared knowledge. This knowledge, by its cultural nature, tends to represent values rather than facts. The end of another trickster story describes his reaction when his deceit is discovered. It also explains the physical behaviour of mole crickets in Budu. The anthropomorphic trickster is the namesake of an insect that crawls away upon discovery. He prefers hidden activities under rotten tree logs:

Soni yo-boto-ko Sôdhü ïyë y-ö ï-tà-a-kísö ü-ba. Mu-genú wo-sio. Shame PF.CL-fill-REP Sôdhü REL CL-of CL-ADI-to-overflow CL-fear CL- story CL.PF- end 40. A terrifying shame filled Sodu. 45. The story is over.

Ïyë ta-kyö-na-öö Södhü a-matí ö bhütü-a, If IPF.1PL -HAB- see-RAF Sodu CL-inside of crawl.away-APL 45. If we sometimes see Sodu at the moment while he’s crawling away,

A-sa nö bhangü y-ö y-aká ng-ïyë-nënï. NPF.3SG-go ADD escape CL-of CL-thing DET-CL-GIVEN 46. It has escaped for the reason that was just explained.

The moral end of this story is again explicit with even an attributive adjective (feature of explicit information), in contrast to the rest of the text.. In line 40 a noteworthy explicitly phrase about mole crickets occurs ( ‘a terrifying shame’ ïtàkisö üba). The protagonist’s reaction to social shame is compared with insect escapes into invisible hiding places. Commenting on social shame in a more explicit way would be highly unusual. This moral end reveals some of the sensitive social isssues that the modal connective resumes by its concise occurrence in texts with implicit information. Modal connectives, just like the distinctions of implicit information, dramatically emphasizes shared (implied) knowledge. Their rhetoric effect depends entirely on common assumptions in a community with a shared culture.

207

APPENDIX 5.D Ideophones and their Budu Usage for Emphasis in Community-Involved Expressions

Ideophones primary role seems emphatic. Like adjectives, adverbs and temporal relative clauses, ideophones are used for description. This role is related to their iconic expression with for instance onomotopaeic forms. Ideophones thereby exhibit a marked form in comparison with, for instance, adjectives and adverbs. Their use therefore always implies some emphasis. The collection of adjectival roots in Budu is limited, as discussed in chapter 3. In attributive adjectives these roots are preceded by an adjectival marker ta- and prefixed by a class prefix in agreement with the head noun. As abstract notions these roots are preceded by noun-class 14 prefix. In analogy to these forms, they may also be used predicatively, with only class marking for agreement with the subject. In all three cases adjectival roots represent a limited class of roots that occur in derivation. In contrast, ideophones are represented by an unlimited collection of underived words (see table 5.D1 for a list with some of them). While some ideophones are onomatopaeic, most ideophones are morphologically related to verbs and some to nouns. Ideophones are not productive and hence their form can not be reduced to predictable phonological or morphological processes, although reduplication plays a role in the formation of a considerable amount of ideophones. The marked morphological and phonological characteristics of ideophones give this class of words its marked status that renders it apt for its pragmatic role as an emphatic device, underlining the main line of a text. Ideophones draw the attention of the addressees by their appearance. As iconic symbols of the described action non-onomatopaeic ideophones can also be used expressively. Lengthening of the final vowel ‘commonly indicates duration and syllabic and lexical reduplication denotes repeated actions’ (Noss 2001:262 refers to Childs 1994:166). Both iconic processes may be applied by the artist during a particular performance. The (iconic) use of ideophones is not restricted to onomatopaeic ones. Ideophones underline information that is not necessarily new to the audience. Ideophones nevertheless consistently emphasize focused information. An example from the Budu corpus of texts is from a story about a road block (tape 1 text 6). The repeated trips of a man who tries to avoid this blockage are described with the ideophone tëtëtëtëtë. This description contains no new information. The endlessness of the man’s attempts are only emphasized by this onomatopaeic reference to his footsteps because their endless repetition is in focus. The man fails to find a way to avoid the road block. In the moral end to this parable this failure is presented as the main point of the story. Ideophones, in this story like in other texts in the corpus, are used to underline the main point. Kabuta (2001:153) proposes to call Chiluba ideophones mushìndiku from the verb kushìndika ‘to stress; to emphasize.’ A similar name would be apt for Budu as well, since the main function of Budu ideophones seems to emphasize information of dramatic importance. The use of ideophones underlines the main point and thereby involves the audience in the topic by the resulting dramatic or even hilarious descriptions. Consider for example the following story song by a magic lady. The ghost story in which the song occurs has reached the point where she has just

208 sent her children off to work in the fields to indulge on palm wine. At that moment she sings the following song, in which she mocks her children for having believed her about her feigned illness: 7

Hei, b-aná bö-töka kyënda ga bö î-naá a nö kábú. Hey, CL-children PF.3PL-care travel say that CL-mother IPF.3SG ADD sickness 3. Hurray, the children took care of the trip, saying “Our mother is sick.”

Vömüvömü mangadhi,vömü2x mangadhi. Ideophone ideophone ideophone 4. Chakka, gulp. Chakka, gulp.

The ridiculous aspect of this mother’s behaviour is conveyed by the use of ideophones in line 4. They represent with vömüvömü ‘chakka-chakka’ the cutting sound of raphia fibre (harvested to obtain palm wine) that is immediately followed by mangadhi ‘gulp’, the sound of swallowing palm wine. The use of ideophones portrays the alcoholic mother as boastful about her deceit. Since any deceit presented in ghost stories tends to be discovered sooner or later, any emphasis on this careless boasting is hilarious to the audience, who expects that her lies will be exposed. This effect of emphasis is reinforced by the preceding line 3. The use of the strange collocation bötöka kyënda ‘they took care of the trip’ gives the impression that the speaker is confused or perhaps just ‘weird’. The verb töka ‘to look after someone’ is normally used in combination with humans. The combination with a field depict the speaker as a witch. The entertainment implied in the use of ideophones in line 4 is an effect of emphasis. Ideophones are used hilariously to portray the protagonist as ridiculously careless. In contrast, in the lines 1 and 2, the emphasis of ideophones implies no ridicule. The effect of their use in celebrations is almost opposite; consider this wedding song8 that consists of one line, quoting a Budu saying (between quotation marks):

Hödî-ee, hödî-ee. hödî-ee, hödî-ee. Ideophone to imitate drinking sound (like gulp). 1. Come on, drink and be merry,

‘’Ï-báá y-a-kûnda tá kü bá-piní.’’ CL-house.of.couple CL-IPF.3SG-like just also CL-two 2. “the house of a couple only likes the two of them,” indeed.

This celebratory song represents a speech act to exhort the wedding guests with polite indirect means to leave the married couple by themselves, since, as the saying goes: ‘the house of a couple’ also in this specific case only ‘likes the two of them’ to be there. The message seems to be: ‘let’s drink and be merry!’ The recurrency marker kü ‘indeed’ is used because the quoted saying applies ‘again’, also in this case. Because ideophones are used for both entertainment (in for example ghost stories) and for the involvement of the audience in more serious celebration (for instance in wedding songs), ideophones per se are not solely distinctive for speech acts that are used in celebrations. Ideophones in both types of communication primarily express emphasis and they may therefore be used to draw attention to the main message of a text.

7 This excerpt is from a mocking song in ghost story 7 on tape 7, by Mrs. Nëgyëtë-Müdhümbü, recorded August 1990 8 One line-wedding song by Bajokio; song 14 recorded on tape 27 June 1992.

209 The aptness of ideophones for dramatic emphasis and the resulting audience involvement depends on various characteristics of these forms that will be discussed one by one, as they are valid for Budu in particular. First, the dramatic impact of ideophones follows from the rhetoric effect of using the appropriate ideophone out of an open collection of numerous ideophones at a certain point in a text. Most Budu ideophones are not onomatopaeic and can therefore not be produced ad hoc. Furthermore, even the use of onomatopaeic ideophones is not always unambiguous and therefore requires exposure and learning on the part of young speakers of the language (cf. Awdoba 2000:46 about Kasena ideophones). “Ideophones can be used incorrectly or inappropriately, but this is the artists game!” as Samarin (2001:335) quotes Noss saying. The appropriate use of ideophones represents cultural knowledge. The user knows to choose between various possible expressions in the context of production. Although ideophones are not so easy to use appropriately, they are, at the same time, required for captivating storytelling sessions. Topic involvement is activated by the use of ideophones and triggers the desired active audience participation. Emphasis occurs at the most dramatic moments of a story (cf. De Jong 2001: 128 about Didinga); implying a deliberate use of ideophones to underline the text structure. The rhetoric effect of ideophones makes them apt for use in attempts to involve the audience. This is related to the effort required for their artful use. Secondly, ideophones, by their intertextual allusions, distinguish community-involved language use. Ideophones provide the audience with an opportunity to recognise familiar descriptive expressions that they may have heard in other texts or that they themselves even may have used. By an understatement or by exaggerated, surprising, or merely metaphorical use of ideophones, the audience is reminded of cultural conventions for the use of these forms. A particular ideophone may surprise the audience only in relation to its ‘normal’ usage. The particularity of such occurrences creates a type of involvement that is typical for narrative discourse (Tannen 1989:27). The user of ideophones creates associations in the minds of the listeners ‘thereby expanding the level of the performance from text to intertext; from the immediate artistic context to the broader context of [the entire] culture and its aesthetics (Noss 2001:268 in reference to the Gbaya culture).9 By allusions to the broader tradition of community celebrations, the listeners are not only involved in the topic of the text, but also united as an audience. This is one of the explanations for the interpretation of ideophones as an expression of solidarity in rapidly changing language groups (Childs 2001: 70). The allusions to intertextuality make the use of ideophones almost the hallmark of involved language use, since it is the community who uses collections of texts that is involved. Finally, ideophones distinguish community-involved language use because of their iconic nature. Some ideophones are onomatopaeic in nature. A Budu whistle in a story blows with a familiar PFEE! that represents the sound of small whistles in other languages. In this respect ideophones represent the sound effects10 of traditional storytelling that enable narrators to ‘create the illusion of a sensual perception’ (Mphande 1992 in Watson 2001:400). ‘Having created a surreal world, the ideophone invites the audience to perceive with their senses that which it represents, whether aural, visual, olfactory, and so on’ (Kunene 2001:190). Meier (1999:149) contends that ideophones, because of their iconic characteristics, “may be said to transmit their expressive suggestions straight from the nerve-centres to the nerve-centres (italics in the original)11. The iconic aspects of the use of ideophones

9Noss (2001:268) refers to the ‘network of ideophones that is expressive for poetic expression in African languages.’ The assumed use of cultural conventions in this network make Budu ideophones so apt for community-involved language use. 10Westerman describes ideophones as ‘picture words’ (1930:183) quoted by Ameka (2001:35) 11In the article ‘Imagination by Ideophones,’ Meier postulates the quoted statement about ideophones as the second of his three final observations. It is formulated in variation on Logan Pearsall Smith’s remark about “certain forcible and vivid semantic idioms” which “convey their meanings, not to the intellect alone, but, by a short circuit, as it were, directly to” the “nervous system, where muscular action proceeds.” It is interesting that this quote (1925:263 in Meier 1999:149) is related to idiomatic expressions, which in Budu co-occur with

210 explain their role in community-involved language use. Like also Kunene (1978:12 in Noss 2001:268) postulates, ‘ideophones enable the audience to participate in a happening.’ In conclusion the use of ideophones seems suitable for involving the audience because it represents rhetoric skills, it relates to the community’s intertextual knowledge and finally, by their iconic nature, ideophones provide sensory short-cuts to audience activation. See section 7.2.4.2 for illustrations.

List of Ideophones

The morpho-syntactic category of ideophones is an open-ended collection of uninflected and underived words which tend to exhibit odd phonological properties. Some ideophones are by default reduplicated and some ideophones represent loanwords with non-Budu sounds. Consider the following list of ideophones that are used to express the quality of objects or persons (or their actions):

Table 5.D1 List of complete and underived ideophones (from an informal lexicon by Loren Koehler 2001) bëë-bëë thin bhilá-bhila shaky ; superficial chaka-chaka quick daa-daa SYN: ngbenge-ngbenge. disorderly dati-dati stuck to the hand desee even(ly); flat disi calm dïgï-dïgï trust-worthy; proud dhëngbë-dhëngbë hobbling (moving ostensively in a manner to attract attention) dhii-dhii SYN: yëë slowly dhïgï-dhïgï squishy (of bananas) dhîï cold dhöbö-dhöbö SYN: bisi, kpalaa, nyëë, nyënyë, pisi. soft ; quiet ; smooth dhöö suspended; hung dhu stomping (walk) dhungbú-dhungbu failing repeatedly ; not succeeding fëë SYN: wee thin and tapered (onomatopaeic for removing a thin film of material) fëë-fëë SYN: nyëë slim (a person) fökö-fökö SYN: bëë-bëë, sïa-sïa light (not heavy) ; airy fua-fua emotional ; tense (as in case of urgency) gyé SYN.: mbie quick(ly) passing object wúsu Solid; hard to break jangaya straight (about standing) jëngë-jëngë foolish; silly (movements drunkard) kaa-kaa rough (person) kamu-kamu irregular (of breathing) kölö-kölö Spacious kwa quick (as a noun mukwa means ‘evil’ ) kpaka ; kwakwakwa movement in a hole (hollow tree for example) kpakasi immobile kpáku-kpaku SYN: pau-pau bad tasting (of fruit) kpaláa SYN: dhöbö-dhöbö. soft ; tender ; smooth (for worms ; meat) kpálá-kpála SYN: dhëlë-dhëlë. soft ; tender (for babies) kpangú-kpangu undecided ; hesitatingly ; difficult kpesu-kpesu rough (hair; animal skin) kpita-kpita bouncing ; masculine ; youthful kya instantly kyakyakya SYN: mbala-mbala attentively; in a hurry ideophones (see appendix 5.E). Meier contends that ideophones and certain idiomatic expressions share this particular function.

211 kyepele fearless (opposite of shy) ; immodest kyomí-kyomi abundantly; piled up disorderly mbaa-mbaa multi-coloured mbala-mbala SYN: kyakyakya. attentive(ly); zealous mbie SYN: gye passing quick(ly) mbuka-mbuka non consistent (gives way like a potato) mvua-mvua/ mvuka-mvuka handy (invention) ningí-ningi shiny black ndölö-ndölö giving way (like a ball when you touch it) ngáá-ngáá transparent; thin (you can see through it) ngala-ngala transparent (but also about thin forest) nganza-nganza (split together like shutters of windows) incidental covering nganjá-nganjá with holes in it nge (with some noise/smell/touch/sensation) perceptive of.. ngila-ngila (of body as result of emotions) 1. heated ; 2. evil nginí-ngini / ningí-ningi shiny black ngwá proper ngbángányá clear; openly ngbangi-ngbangi heavy ngbányá / ngbángányá clear ngbélé-ngbélé (re. thing or person coming out of some process) untouched; unaffected (like rice that is not affected by being pound) ngbémú-ngbémú hard ngbengé-ngbenge SYN: daa-daa. disorderly ngbêmû hard (physically) ngbölö-ngbölö fat ngyapa SYN: kulo crawling njaa hot njátáa all standing up (after an accident in the area) njïá-njïa slimy ; slow streaming like honey njömbö (due to sickness; grief; conflict in marriage) frustrated; depressed; humbled nyêë SYN: taa-taa small; slim nyëë / pisi; dhöbö-dhöbö, nyënyë quiet nyênyë / pisi ; dhöbö-dhöbö, nyëë. quiet pau-pau SYN: kpaku-kpaku VAR: paupapu tasteless; unripe (about food) peke-peke narrow; thin pêtê-pêtê SYN: wala-wala; sïa-sïa easy pií-pii (like a python) twisting around; curving pingilí-pingili curved; crooked; twisting pisi; dhöbö-dhöbö, nyënyë. quiet pú split (like a fallen bottle or piece of fruit) sangú-sangu wrapped up (meat) sëlëlë (about person who is restlessly shuffling around on bottom) shuffling sëndë-sëndë slippery (place) sïa-sïa SYN: bëë-bëë, fökö-fökö light (not heavy) ; easy suu-suu short but strong taa-taa / fëë-fëë SYN: nyëë small ; slim tékélé brave (about standing firm in face of danger) tiki-tiki (as result of an insect bite) stung; itchy; strong tita-tita stumbling (after being pushed) titolo (return without desired game, crop or cash) without result; empty handed tïgbá-tïgbá (being now here, than there) busy (negative evaluation) tïgbî-tïgbï / tïngbî-tïngbï (standing on two legs) strong; firm tïkpë (of consistency of liquid) thick; solid tïkpï-tïkpï short but big tïö (with symptoms) SYN: ganja-ganja. apparently sick (starting symptoms) tötömü; kyomí-kyomi manifold; piled up disorderly üsü-üsü not soft; hard to chew wala-wala SYN: pêtê-pêtê; sïa-sïa easy to carry ; light (weighted) wee SYN: fëë onomatopaeic for removing a film of material wúso-wuso / húsu hard to break yapa-yapa lukewarm; useless

212 yapa-yapa carefully yëë SYN: dhii-dhii slowly (about going step by step in hunting for example) yëgê (person) VAR: yëgü.adj. tipped not straight yobo (about the movements of a pregnant person) careful sïa-sïa SYN: pêtê-pêtê, wala-wala. easy

APPENDIX 5.E Idiomatic Expressions as Solidarity-Markers in Performative Use of Budu

The use of idiomatic expressions as solidarity markers may not be obvious at first sight. Their role depends on the unchanged role of fixed expressions in the closely knit society of the Budu (see chapter 2). Consider some frequently used Budu idiomatic expressions:

For examples of the idiomatic use of majïö ’ peace’ consider the following lines from pulpit speech:

Ma-jïö k-ö Mungu k-i-bio ïhô n(ö)-îsü. CL-peace CL-of God (SW) CL-OPT-be together with-us a. May the peace of God be with us.

Ta-ngwa anani tîa kü banî, bö to-bi-eni tîa kû a-matí ö ma-jïö. IPF.1PL-go here now also like that 1PL-be-GERUND now also at-inside of CL-peace b. We depart from here now being also in peace.

The reference to ‘being in peace’ or ‘living in peace’ is familiar to Budu speakers. It occurs frequently in moral advices and in greetings. Consider for example the following conclusion:1

(…) a-matí ö u-bei ng-üwa w-ö ü-söö at- inside of CL-life DET-REL CL-of CL-yours c. (When you follow my advice, )

üwë wa-bio a-matí ö ma-jïö, (…). you IPF.FUT.2SG-be at-inside of CL-peace you will live in peace during your life, (like I lived in peace during my life).

Also consider the greeting in line 33. Such greetings are uttered recognising another person’s presence (wëkö k’ínaní? ‘Hello’; or literally: ‘You came too there?’):

Ma-saü k-a dhö tá-nï? Tá ma-jïö! CL-news CL-is MOD just-INT Just CL-peace 33. How are you? Fine! (literally: nothing but peace)

Some idiomatic expressions mark a genre by their odd nature. The incongruence in the opening lines of each animal story, represents, next to the collocation of verb and noun for circumcision, a familiar idiom:

1 Line from moral advice by Mrs. Nebholo to her daughter recorded on tape 29 text 12.

213 Ngîmá ïbô ba-kío-no ï-günï nö Jïnï. Monkey them NPF.3PL-cut-REC CL-circumcision ADD crocodile. 2. Monkey and Crocodile had gone through circumcision together

Line 22 begins with a reference to a circumcision ceremony. Two animals have experienced that ceremony together. It literally formulates the setting of the story as: ‘Monkey, they had pierced circumcision together with Crocodile.’ An odd incongruence exists between subject (ngîmá ’monkey’ SG) and inflected verb (bakiono ‘they had cut’ 3 PL historic Perfect). This incongruence is emphasised by the preceding personal pronoun ïbô ‘they.’ The subject consists of a single noun that is connected with an additive to another noun, but since this additive construction occurs at the end of the phrase, they phrase sounds like an incongruence. Translated literally it results in: ‘Monkey,’ (them) with Crocodile.’ The inclusion of the crocodile in this friendship is emphasized by use of the additive. The expression with the verb bakio ‘they cut or pierced’ is idiomatic and tends to be used in references to circumcision, with its cultural implications. The expression emphasizes the unity between the two friends. The occurrence of only monkey in the Subject slot evokes suspense. Idiomatic expressions integrate cultural information. In case of blessings this can, for instance, be a reference to ‘peace,’ with all its connotations in Budu culture. In case of animal stories, the information concerns lifelong friendships that are implied in circumcision pacts. Idiomatic expressions function as in-group solidarity markers. Members of the own group can easily recognise the connotations of such markers and react to speech acts that are implied in some phrases.

2 This fragment is taken from text 2 tape 1, deacon Nëkülëmbëngï recorded in January 1989.

214 Appendix 5.F Correlation Matrix in Four Digits forms indicated with numbers corresponding to table 4.3, genres in four letter-abbreviations pact para part indi circ dram work anim ghos trick life cult prov ridd med chur T 01 3239 1750 4425 7835 5782 9999 9901 5290 5042 0103 9999 0000 0279 6593 0000 9999 5 02 7250 9627 9341 5835 0869 9463 9185 9832 1190 0021 0000 0000 8461 1804 0243 9999 3 03 9999 8995 0151 0102 0085 0000 0105 9909 7845 9999 1970 0000 1225 9895 0002 5183 5 04 0054 9981 1462 6498 1125 0088 0027 1206 0000 0000 5361 9999 0095 0020 2318 9998 4 05 5553 3340 4733 4409 4274 9909 9996 0090 5567 0095 0000 0389 1631 5670 3167 9999 3 06 1904 0114 1278 3426 0965 0000 0043 8930 2264 0276 4722 9999 0068 0100 2224 9492 2 07 0001 5545 7383 6269 1509 1079 4926 0035 2450 0034 0198 9883 9999 9812 9999 0011 3 08 9999 3785 0015 0067 0006 0000 0004 4214 8964 8748 9281 9939 0519 6652 0000 9999 5 09 9721 9128 9334 9971 0862 9439 0683 9161 9992 1617 0051 0000 0335 9996 0120 2729 2 10 0085 8234 1432 0965 8664 3250 6378 9999 9558 9999 6803 0001 0077 0005 0000 9858 5 11 0142 0247 3209 2880 2748 0000 1970 1680 0020 0002 9304 9999 0636 2917 1043 0038 3 12 0000 0077 2237 1940 9075 5534 9793 0120 0012 0504 9999 0000 2981 2906 5970 4002 3 13 0092 4590 9999 7939 4172 9999 0295 6171 1132 9675 0003 0571 7138 2915 0008 8197 3 14 9999 1148 0018 0824 0018 0000 0000 9999 9999 9999 0000 3972 0000 9999 0000 0000 11 15 0157 0025 3254 2925 2792 0063 0004 0043 0000 0000 9999 9999 0658 0268 0004 0263 6 16 6480 1793 8266 8118 8054 9996 9975 1137 4575 1157 0741 4086 6303 5412 4775 3926 1 17 0613 0000 2915 0108 0941 0000 0000 9901 0064 2433 9923 9999 0000 0163 0000 0713 6 18 6354 2461 9286 3523 3386 3925 5026 1516 2391 0174 3524 9690 0993 9956 4881 9914 0 19 0094 5334 5451 8568 5018 9993 2050 9750 1995 3178 9889 3377 2297 4180 0038 0508 1 20 4919 3055 9999 9390 6132 9999 5972 0004 5883 0002 7634 0000 0486 1224 0010 9999 6 21 0211 2435 9999 4862 4664 9999 9999 0029 1018 0331 0003 0001 9980 9852 0489 2177 5 22 9999 9151 9899 7011 4025 9941 0004 0122 0795 0003 0000 0000 9999 3449 9999 6845 7 23 0001 5701 4505 4176 4040 8809 0840 0516 5842 3209 9917 6293 6954 0764 0659 9999 2 24 5650 1390 8036 9756 7800 9759 9309 2881 0379 0841 0504 4870 5887 4941 1338 9998 1 25 0964 4984 8048 9976 9744 9896 7534 9213 0405 0000 0019 6495 9959 3444 9966 0672 1 26 9947 8874 7095 3088 9919 6401 0203 6565 9406 6671 7787 0000 0742 5461 0031 5701 1 27 0023 9755 1661 4162 1300 0000 9999 0038 0172 4451 0000 0000 9265 0031 6147 2257 4 28 4290 9953 4348 4018 3881 0001 7693 7523 2045 5318 7464 0068 4013 4977 5022 9999 2 29 5037 9999 5008 4690 4557 4715 0465 8269 1905 3349 1693 1189 1871 1075 1219 9429 1 30 2871 7290 8933 8838 8796 6469 9986 6310 4966 6347 2140 2983 7607 6950 3542 5747 0 31 2248 5650 6190 5914 5798 0013 8768 5333 7057 0044 6654 5332 3126 5424 9638 9998 1 32 1677 7617 9928 4409 4274 8841 9925 5185 0334 9501 1171 0389 1631 0896 6174 9211 0 33 0434 6270 6412 6147 6035 4108 9610 8592 9811 4350 5952 0134 7076 2385 2256 8232 0 34 9373 4875 8266 8118 8054 3097 9999 3610 0578 6345 0741 0161 9884 5412 7437 3926 1 35 9864 1581 8211 9230 9996 0000 1204 9964 9221 1645 1641 0065 7218 4974 1428 9999 3 36 8326 8911 8808 8702 8657 3142 9871 2347 4337 5790 4827 4808 7352 6641 3111 5362 0 37 6770 7274 9653 9621 9607 5172 9742 6686 5899 6708 6177 4655 9181 8925 7230 8410 0 38 0591 0105 3967 9993 3496 751 6794 9999 0062 1812 2854 6410 6123 9964 0743 8268 1 39 7972 0156 7689 0053 7025 0003 4617 9613 8671 0039 2948 1467 9927 0144 9999 3624 2 40 4459 3488 7406 2095 4701 9663 0080 9893 9763 8401 7850 0216 9994 0138 0079 0001 1 41 7609 0235 0586 0098 0010 0366 9216 0001 8781 5111 9971 9999 0003 9991 0000 0000 5 42 9999 5098 4936 2514 8809 0001 1174 9868 6780 5031 2712 0040 8940 4313 5107 9971 2 43 9845 1221 7923 7629 3819 2047 1588 5010 9428 5111 1103 1253 3922 4865 3403 9987 0 44 4956 9971 9385 9328 9304 3052 6417 4845 3867 4873 4202 2525 8574 8149 9784 7323 0 45 4761 5581 2595 5662 2159 0560 6564 9592 7769 5423 7713 3863 1625 3691 7362 2109 0 46 9152 5435 2559 2248 2124 1626 5204 2250 1377 7896 8202 9885 0367 9227 2949 0095 0 47 9980 9109 2708 5820 2265 5219 1084 6746 9080 7682 4853 0426 0421 0772 4616 0016 0 48 3390 8654 0279 7562 0020 0071 1943 4958 9902 9956 0176 9996 6650 0388 4953 0000 2 49 5494 9986 5152 4837 4706 0158 8139 9771 7990 9784 0530 0043 2003 6306 4301 5905 0 50 9946 6145 6367 6100 5987 0002 9844 9932 1963 1155 9043 3571 3348 2332 0810 6186 1 pact para part indi circ dram work anim ghos trick life cult prov ridd med chur T

215 Appendix 5.F continued: Correlation Matrix in Four Digits forms indicated with numbers corresponding to table 4.3, genres in four letter-abbreviations, 99 refers to subordination as described in chapter 4.

pact para part indi circ dram work anim ghos trick life cult prov ridd med chur T 51 7824 9464 0152 0003 0002 0061 0804 9999 7314 9921 8243 9982 0000 6027 0095 0000 5 52 0213 3229 2674 5975 5667 0000 0000 9810 9999 9999 0122 0008 0001 8856 0000 0000 7 53 9610 1780 6759 6361 2661 0040 0386 9827 5239 9976 5764 3760 0594 9982 2591 0033 0 54 1191 9999 0513 1123 9999 2217 0111 9998 1782 5309 1711 0000 1195 0343 0218 9999 5 55 4754 3029 5897 1279 2839 1381 9749 0991 1846 0000 5095 9997 9695 3959 9999 0000 4 56 5286 3753 6475 9999 9651 0000 5955 5483 9999 9810 0124 0000 9937 0086 9850 5393 4 57 0001 2661 9919 9999 9974 9010 1411 0001 9725 0444 0000 0000 1447 0105 3460 9999 11 58 5043 6253 0656 9899 8690 9999 0913 4158 0091 0678 0038 5160 0453 0125 1325 3377 1 59 2277 9999 9075 9595 4245 9999 0082 0505 7936 0013 0155 0098 0828 0891 1458 1612 2 60 9090 0919 3809 0518 0076 4440 4121 0005 0305 1250 0101 1431 9999 6920 4590 7188 2 61 7513 9756 6833 6590 6487 0008 9464 7289 0033 0711 0055 0024 3972 2928 9999 9877 2 62 9963 0041 2633 3602 0033 0000 9714 3228 9998 9999 2053 0063 0067 9999 4810 0000 5 63 9994 3288 2891 2260 9898 0000 8790 2279 0627 4480 9999 5415 1024 0126 9628 9999 3 64 1768 0009 9966 1127 0902 1101 9061 0167 2834 7802 0220 1652 9441 9999 9999 0000 3 65 9681 6584 0004 0006 0000 0000 9997 4071 3467 6968 9937 9999 0000 0004 9826 0000 8 66 7506 9724 7872 3895 3759 0000 6044 2364 2620 0772 7075 9999 1240 2352 4651 0146 2 67 7320 7752 9722 9696 9684 5901 8211 7247 6555 7265 6802 5424 9339 9130 7714 8707 0 68 0907 0273 3643 0936 2965 0064 7427 0038 0360 0739 9954 8376 9999 6052 9999 8182 2 69 5793 6405 9518 9474 9454 3973 7082 5692 4776 5718 5095 7098 8872 8528 6350 9980 0 70 9996 2051 0258 0118 0639 0000 9991 5113 7370 1293 1596 5600 9999 5914 9999 7239 4 71 7800 5765 0084 0048 2177 0003 9453 7956 0951 9999 7364 3912 7079 1744 0180 9963 2 72 5337 3454 5360 4886 7365 0000 9111 2160 0254 7525 2731 9999 1074 6077 9990 0039 2 73 9999 0822 6276 0930 0236 0000 6438 9576 9828 9205 9790 9998 0000 0040 0007 0001 5 74 3369 3284 6018 8925 5615 6460 9714 0716 6482 1748 7375 0149 2919 1943 9914 9586 0 75 9828 6714 1181 0177 0791 0002 7834 6097 0000 9525 9437 9855 0225 5964 9829 1413 2 76 6379 5483 7595 7400 7316 0358 4275 9014 2214 9999 6762 0635 5134 4119 2815 2591 1 77 0000 0000 1673 1412 1311 0000 0054 9999 0000 0000 0000 0007 0131 9999 9999 2291 9 78 0382 0000 0001 0018 0013 0000 5141 5087 0000 9117 9999 0094 4697 9603 9999 8102 6 79 7191 0000 0011 0004 0225 0000 9999 1192 0006 9739 9325 9999 9999 9988 6973 0000 6 80 6051 7997 0179 0014 0088 0000 2246 6884 9999 9895 7009 9999 0003 0034 0000 0000 6 81 9999 5643 9409 0000 1497 0000 9786 4868 4910 9176 9880 9999 0000 3471 0000 9538 6 82 5360 9959 6606 2666 6021 0000 5332 9861 9997 3929 1632 6832 4405 2545 0011 4585 2 83 5488 5703 2114 1824 1710 0000 9717 4958 6170 6027 5409 9999 4815 2642 0968 0005 3 84 0665 1022 3593 3260 3125 7162 2822 0095 9999 9203 5738 9975 0836 0368 0008 0066 1 85 1805 1576 9054 5690 9969 0825 9987 3017 0515 9971 0799 0339 6455 1900 1487 9999 2 86 0762 6495 7924 7751 7676 5604 1966 5043 9990 5096 3842 9288 5689 4721 1175 3190 0 87 0327 3418 5375 9684 4938 9999 0130 1652 1815 2970 5262 0007 2220 4056 0033 0474 1 88 1135 7199 9999 8646 9999 7865 2250 9598 6189 3505 0424 0308 2418 1513 0292 4521 2 89 7236 2203 7281 9999 6972 1571 1088 8411 9987 9273 0608 0081 4633 9155 0539 2105 1 90 0078 0491 9999 9990 6337 2050 3050 4937 9999 8197 0000 0000 0014 8983 0000 9999 6 91 1542 0219 9999 9999 9999 1046 2055 0465 5529 1432 0031 0001 3585 2554 0204 9945 4 92 0000 9999 6371 5725 3270 9999 0000 0137 0000 0003 0103 3358 0218 8091 0000 9999 8 93 4417 2170 8443 8308 8250 0422 6689 4246 0793 1471 0990 0254 6635 5794 9988 9999 1 94 0000 0000 0064 0001 0000 9999 0000 0000 0000 0000 0011 0000 0000 5757 0067 0000 12 95 0000 9999 9531 0034 0000 9999 0000 0000 0000 0000 0016 0005 0000 0000 0000 0000 13 96 0000 0000 2099 1809 1696 9999 0002 0000 0000 0000 0001 0000 0227 0065 0000 0005 11 97 0046 0200 9999 9999 6086 0003 0267 9993 9999 9939 1802 0000 1942 0061 0021 0365 5 98 6379 5483 7595 7400 7316 0358 4275 9014 2214 9999 6762 0635 5134 4119 2812 2591 1 99 7913 8261 9790 9771 9762 6732 8625 7854 7285 7869 7490 6320 9500 9340 8231 9013 0 pact para part indi circ dram work anim ghos trick life cult prov ridd med chur T

The forms 61 and 19 represent no significant correlations in this FY 4 test, but the FY 0/8 test on the same material has 0 for form 61 and 9999 for form 19. The correlation matrix in this appendix has the results of a Fisher Yates 4 test. I compared these results with Fisher Yates 0/8 tests to see whether both had similar results. In the two cases mentioned, the result from the alternative test indicated that the form has a dependent relation with the genre.

216 Chapter 6. Conventional Language Use in Embedded Genres

“Our speech is filled with other’s words, varying degrees of otherness or varying degrees of our-own-ness, varying degrees of awareness and detachment. These words of others carry with them their own expression, their own evaluative tone, which we assimilate, rework and re- accentuate.” (Bakthin 1986:175) 6.0 Introduction

One question that may have arisen regarding former chapter is the extent to which results are determined by the fragments with reported speech. Especially since story genres were observed to consist of more than 25% of reported speech fragments, one may wonder whether the results concerning language use, at least in these narrative genres, are not coloured by the genre distinctions of embedded-speech genres, such as decrees which occur in pact stories, or reproaches between friends which consistently occur in trickster stories. This chapter provides some answers, indicating which of the distinctive forms in main genres are distinctive for their embedded genres as well. Chapter 5 presented quantitative results of a research of language use in the sixteen main genres. In this chapter additional results for fourteen embedded genres are presented. By studying a mini-corpus those distinctions that occur too rarely to ‘count’ in the main corpus can be observed. Since only a limited set of embedded genres tends to be used in reported speech, these direct speech fragments exhibit considerable similarities per genre.1 Whereas, in the main research, some distinctions of embedded genres remained obscured by their ration to the main genre’s own distinctions, the mini corpus of embedded genres can be researched with a smaller scale comparison that reveals these features. In repeating the methodology for a mini-corpus, the distinctive forms of embedded-speech genres become visible. The mini-corpus is researched for two goals. First, the particular features of embedded speech genres in comparison to each other can be studied. Second, the observations of the results of the embedded genres can be compared with the results in the main corpus, clarifying how reported speech fragments are distinguished from the main text of the embedding genres. Twelve genres recur by convention in the main genres (see overview 4.2B). They represent a total of 271 embedded text (fragment)s that together form a so called mini-corpus with their 17,928 words. Two other genres were added to the researched mini-corpus of embedded-speech genres. These are considered as embedded genres as well, since their use is always embedded in another genre. One is the widely varying genre of riddles, quoted in narrative discourse. The fourteenth category consists of answers about genealogies. These long answers are prompted by short questions in interviews with cultural documentation. The answers contain embedded stretches of text, framed by specific questions regarding clan history. Similar to riddles,2 the embedding text in these genres is restricted to one-liner questions. Despite this particularity they were included in the mini-corpus with other embedded genres.

1 In the oral tradition of storytelling, this probably facilitated the recognition of recurring genres. 2 Proverbs are introduced by short openings as well, however, this genre tends to be embedded in various other genres, such as stories, medical information, etc.

217 The methodology that is described in chapter 4.3 was applied anew for the embedded genres as if its categories represented autonomous genres, in order to compare the language use of the embedded genres. The sixteen main genres each consist of both embedding and embedded discourse. The results in chapter 5 are based on a comparison of the sixteen main genres with their combined stretches of texts, whether embedding genres, such as a pact story, or embedded genres, such as a decree embedded in that story, or a story song. In chapter 6 only stretches of text with embedded genres, such as the decree, are compared with each other, as if the rest of the text in which the embedded genres occur did not exist. At the hand of the tables 6.A and B all forms that distinguish the 14 genres with embedded- speech are discussed, while forms that occur incidentally in all embedded genres are discussed at the hand of the tables 6.C and D. Correlations that correspond to results for the main corpus indicate where language use in reported speech fragments determines distinctions of the main genre (see bold print in the tables 6.A and B). The forms in table 6.D only distinguish between main genres. Their occurrence in the reported speech fragments exhibits no consistencies that can be related to the embedded-speech genre. Their distribution indicates that forms included (in 6.D) occur mainly in the main, embedding texts of the main genres. This is a refinement of the results in chapter 5. Forms that are particular to stretches of embedded text can be observed from a combination of the tables 6.A and 6.B, which can be reordered as table 6.6 to clarify the dimension of variation between embedded genres.

6.1 Language in Embedded Genres and its Separate Nature

In chapter 4.1 it was remarked that an analysis of language use might miss certain generalisations if recurring embedded genres are not compared with each other. There are several other reasons to analyse the reported speech as separated language use. The first reason is that the role of paralinguistic framing devices in storytelling needs to be acknowledged. Non-verbal communication, which may include changes of intonation and pitch, tempi of speech, facial gestures and pronunciation, are innumerable and of such variety that it is almost impossible to account for them, which I will not even try. Nevertheless, an emphasis on the notation of such non-verbal aspects of communication arose in early ethnography in reaction to the general tendency to neglect them (Tedlock 1983; Hymes 1971; Kunene 1971; Finnegan 1977). With advanced techniques, ethno-linguistic fieldwork may include audiovisual recordings, contributing to the analysis.3 However, no registration system in itself can, in my view, be expected to adequately account for the use of paralinguistic framing devices as long as the recording focuses on non-verbal clues. Non-verbal clues in isolation seem to be meaningless. As the term ‘framing’ suggest, the role of paralinguistic devices can be acknowledged considering the centre of the frame, in this case the genre of the embedding. Paralinguistic features that accompany story songs, for instance, can be understood as framing devices that signal the separate status of the song text. The lack of new dramatic information in story songs implies their independent status next to the ongoing story. Dialogues and songs are merely used to illustrate the characters of the main participants.4 Therefore, facing the multifaceted framing devices, no attempt is made in this dissertation to focus on non-verbal clues. However, non-verbal aspects of quotes can be included in the analysis in a more integrated way. Functional analyses, which are based on the role these clues play in the communication of the

3 Unfortunately I was not able to include filmed storytelling sessions, which Bettina Gottschlich made in 2003. It would be beyond the scope of this dissertation to describe and analyse these sessions. 4 Even reproaches, which contribute considerately to the dramatic development, only express facts that are already known to the audience.

218 passages they mark, can be attained by considering the passages as separate texts (as explained at the hand of table 4.2B). A separate genre labelling of reported speech accounts for the role that paralinguistic framing devices play. Paralinguistic clues indicate the separate genre of a reported speech fragment, a genre that is recognised by mature speakers of the language. Therefore the language use in reported-speech fragments is analysed as separate genre in this chapter. The second reason for a separate analysis is the occurrence of linguistic (as opposed to paralinguistic) framing devices. Quotations usually are detachable from their immediate context by speech introducers, that indicate, as framing devices, the separate nature of the embedded text while, at the same time, they determine where embedded genres start. Repetition and variations of embedded genres may recur throughout a story, as was discussed in appendix 5B.5 The use of reported speech presupposes an awareness of embedded fragments being separate units, as their possible detachment and repeated use with variation seem to show. This ‘detachability’ suggests the separate nature of reported speech. The third reason to analyse any occurrence of reported speech as separate text is the importance of its genre distinctions. In storytelling genre distinctions of the reported speech contribute to the narrative development. Reported speech characterises the discourse participants that use it. Therefore recognition of the genre, no matter how short the fragment is, as with curses for instance, is a prerequisite. Usually fragments can be lengthened at the will of the narrator, as long as the selection of a genre by a discourse participant is clear to the audience, suggesting that characteristics of language use in text fragments need to be recognised in order to understand a story. A spouse in a story, for instance, may be portrayed by her public use of the genre of reproaches mïnyà. This genre choice implies that the woman, for some reason, does not hesitate to bring shame to her husband. The language use in such a reported reproach merely contributes to the recognition of the selected genre. Apparently, the discourse participant uses this socially unacceptable genre and the consequences remain to be awaited in the rest of the story. Not the unavoidable shortcomings, which are listed in a typical reproach contribute to development of the story; the wife’s use of a reproach itself represents dramatic information. Consequently, the narrators can either shorten or lengthen the structure of reproaches, depending on the reactions of the audience. Some extremely futile transgressions of the husband may, for instance, be mentioned elaborately only to hilariously emphasize the, socially less desired, genre use itself. Embedded genres therefore are considered as separate units of analysis that can be recognised by their linguistic distinctions. The prototypical language use in embedded genres facilitates recognition of a selected genre. Fragments with reported speech may even exhibit caricature genre distinctions, especially since, in its indirect description of the main characters6, Budu narrations depend not in the last place on framing. The selected genre itself, rather than the semantic aspects of the reported speech, is important for the narrative development. A fourth reason to analyse reported speech fragments as separate texts is the importance of conventions for the entextualisation of well known genres. Genre recognition depends not only on framing devices and on linguistic features. Also the representation of a genre in various language use situations is important.7 Only a fixed set of frequently embedded genres (see fig. 4.2B) tends to be

5 This particular use of repetition could be confused with the use of parallelism as studied in ritual language (Kuipers 1990 for example). In contrast to ritual language, Budu repetition and variation in reported speech fragments seems to provide a means to present lexico-semantic parallelisms (cf. Schiffrin 1982, Norrick 1987 and Tannen 1989).These parallelisms function as acoustic signals to highlight key dramatic information to the audience, since foregrounded omissions or variations are marked against the background of repetition. 6 Whereas Budu stories rarely have direct qualifications of their main characters; storytellers usually provide sufficient indirect information for the audience to construct an idea of the character of the discourse participants. Narrators use passages, putting the main characters ‘on the stage’ in uncommented scenes of verbal interaction. See appendix 5.B for details. 7 As in most languages, Budu proverbs require a strict verbatim citation. This is a classical example of an entextualisation convention (see Bauman and Briggs 1990 for the introduction of the notion ‘entextualisation’).

219 entextualised in reported speech fragments. In most Budu stories less than ten genres are frequently used, while some story genres even exhibit fixed embeddings: reproaches consistently occur in the reported speech of trickster stories. Although they may also occur in other story genres, predictable possibilities make it easier to recognise the nature of an embedded genre. Since embedded speech is subject of text conventions, its language use should be studied in relation to these conventions. The fifth reason to study reported speech fragments as separate texts, is that speech fragments “are susceptible to comment,” as Barber remarks (1999:20). In her discussion of Yoruba quotes, Barber proposes to consider reported speech as separate part of storytelling since it ‘represents solid, cohesive chunks of text that, in themselves are susceptible to comment, by occurring in repeated forms with meaningful variations throughout the story.’ Storytellers can add “metalinguistic comments” about reported speech fragments by means of “speech introducers and stance markers.” Main genres may include comments about the speech fragments, which in itself indicates the separate nature of reported speech. In the researched corpus the use of modal connectives, for instance, conveys a meta-linguistic comment on the guarantees of the trickster, and thereby it treats his ‘suspicious’ guarantees as a separate chunk of text. Reported speech fragments are subject to meta-linguistic comment, which provides an indication of their separate nature. These five remarks in defence of the need for a separate analysis of reported speech fragments are discussed here, because they relate to the creative use of genre features. In reporting the speech of others, the speaker exhibits a secondary use of language the way it arose in other situations. Apparently speakers are aware of the most salient features. This is evident from their selection of language that can be used in those situations. Their consistent use of genre features for the various embedded-speech genres will be explained in this chapter, where results are presented of a research of fourteen embedded genres in the mini-corpus with Budu texts. Furthermore, an awareness of the most salient genre distinctions is prerequisite to the creative use of genre features that is discussed in chapter 8.

6.2 Data Discussion for the Results of Embedded Genres

In table 6, results for all forms in the fourteen embedded genres are presented. Like in table 5 the results are based on frequencies as compared with Fisher Yates tests, where P<0,001. The use of most forms in the main corpus is described in chapter 5. Table 5 in that chapter is based on the entire corpus, embeddings included, while this chapter’s table 6.A-D is based on the embedded genres only. The data are organised in four parts to facilitate observations regarding the relation of genre distinctions in embedded speech to language use in the main genres. At the hand of four separate tables labeled 6.A-D comparisons to the results of the main genres are discussed. Table 6.A displays the 30 genre-markers that characterise embedded genres. Table 6.B displays the 28 distinctions of embedded genres. They distinguish the genres from each other by their consistent absence in one and presence in another genre. Table 6.C displays the distribution of 17 forms that occur incidentally in all the embedded genres, representative of forms that only incidentally occur in embedded-speech genres. Table 6.D displays the distribution of 17 forms that are incidental in the language use of embedded genres, while, unlike the forms of table 6.C, they are used to distinguish main genres.

6.2.1 Genre Markers for Embedded Genres

Table 6.A provides an overview of the 30 forms that were observed to mark specific embedded genres. These forms mark a particular genre by their consistent use in any reported-speech fragment representing it. The term ‘genre marker’ is used here to indicate the particular frequency of use in a

220 genre. A form is referred to as ‘genre marker,’ if its consistent occurrence is observed in one particular genre, while the form occurs incidentally in other genres. Although its use is not exclusive to a particular genre, it nevertheless ‘marks’ a particular genre, occurring in it with predictable frequency. Some genres are marked by the significant frequency of more than one genre markers. Forms that function as genre markers in one particular genre occur incidentally in other genres, or, in some cases, consistently in one particular other genre. All the same, their use never contrasts with consistent use in other genres. Genre markers are forms which frequency of use marks particular genres, while distinctive forms characterise genres by their mere presence or absence (in contrast with reverse distribution in other genres).

Table 6.A: 30 genre markers observed in 14 embedded-speech genres:

1. reproach 2. warning 3. request 4. thoughts 5. decree 6. guarantee 7. disagreement 8. story songs songs 9. mock- 10. agreements 11. work orders 12. proverbs 13. riddles 14. genealogies 1. Excl HUU 1 ------2. Modal conn. 1 ------3. Adverbial neg - 1 ------4. Lexical future - - 1 ------5. Pronoun 2 PL - - - - - 1 ------6. int. HAA ‘no’ ------1 ------7. ínaa we ! ------1 ------8. Pron. 3 SG ------1 ------9. Additive nö ------1 ------10. past jënê ------1 - - - - 11. Auxiliaries ------1 - - - - 12. Assoc. mrk ------1 - - 13. Adjectives ------1 - - 14. determiner ------0 - - 15. idiom Expr. ------0 - - 16. loc. Anaph. ------0 - - 17. emphat pron ------0 - - 18. Fr. loanw ------1 - 19. PF 1 PL ------1 20. Pron. 3 PL ------1 21. Rel cl. -öö ------1 22. Resmpt ëë ------1 23. Consec PX ------1 24. Adv tîakû ------1 25. Object PX ------0 26. optative ------0 27. past PTC ------0 28. Adv. Cl. kû ------0 29. HAB 3 SG ------0 30. adverbs ------0

The bold print in table 6.A indicates so called correspondences, or correlations between an embedded genre and the main genre in which it tends to occur as reported speech. Two thirds of all correlations in

221 table 6.A are printed in bold. Only 13 genre markers are unique to the embedded-speech genre (and not to the main genre). Ten embedded genres are distinguished by the use of genre markers. Only thoughts, decrees, mocking songs and embedded working orders are not ‘marked’ with particular genre markers. None of the 30 forms in table 6.A distinguishes a genre by its consistent presence in one genre versus its consistent absence in another. For five genres more than one genre marker could be observed. The 30 genre markers are now discussed one by one. For linguistic characteristics of each genre see appendix 6.B. In the discussion groups of markers that concern the same genre are put in one paragraph, for example form 1 and 2 that both mark reproaches (see the first column of table 6.A as well):

1. The exclamation húú! (Indignation) occurs consistently in reproaches, embedded in the main genre of stories (in particular trickster stories) comparable to its use in the main genre of individual songs. Upon investigation its occurrence seems to characterise the subtype of mourning songs. Apparently this exclamation is most characteristic for language use of speakers who are faced with deadly serious matters, such as the betrayal of a friend or the death of a beloved (see, for instance, Húú! in table 5.B2). 2. Modal connectives ambôgöbö ‘in fact’ characterise reproaches as well. Since the reported speech in trickster stories,8 is marked by this form, it consequently also marks the trickster genre on the whole.

3. Adverbial negations ti batá ‘not again’ are consistently used in embedded warnings, which occur in various main genres. The 1 in column two indicates a correlation, but not in bold since there is no corresponding correlation for a main genre with adverbial negation.

4. Lexical futures with súo / sínaní occur consistently in embedded requests. There is no corresponding correlation for a main genre with lexical futures, so the 1 in column three is not in bold.

5. Second person pronouns in plural distinguish guarantees in the main genre of church songs. The form also distinguishes the main genres of work orders by its significant presence and life stories by their absence, nevertheless fragments embedded in work orders or reported thoughts do not have corresponding distinctions.

6. Haa ‘no’ marks disagreements. The form does not determine the language use in any main genre.

7. The exclamation of despair ínaa wé marks story songs and occurs in autonomous song genres as well (individual -, party and circumcision songs), while it lacks in the main genre of cultural documentation. 8. Third person singular pronouns characterise story songs as well. Some main genres that embed story songs (pact- and trickster stories) are distinguished by this form (while the form is consistently absent in drama; cultural documentation and medical information). 9. The additive nö occurs consistently in story songs. The additive is a first dimension features connective presentation that is also consistently used in story songs (consistently absent from drama).

10. The lexical past with jënê occurs consistently in embedded agreements, while being insignificant for any of the main genres. It is noteworthy that, quite similarly, the lexical past with püngö is used incidentally in all embedded genres, while it only occurs consistently in the main genre of drama.

8 Reproaches can be embedded in ghost- and animal stories, yet their invariable occurrence can be predicted only for trickster stories. The deceitful tricks of the protagonist always lead to confrontations with the antagonist. When an antagonist exposes the deceit, the reported speech consistently contains the modal connective: ‘so you ambôgöbö ‘in fact’ cheated me/us!

222 11. The auxiliary verb characterises agreement-dialogues (in trickster- ghost and riddle stories) while being significant for the embedding-story genres too. They are consistently absent in church songs and drama.

12. Associative markers mark embedded proverbs (while, in the main corpus, they distinguish proverbs, pact stories and medical information from drama). 13. Attributive adjectives mark embedded proverbs, while, in the main corpus, they mark the main genres proverbs and medical information, not being consistently absent from any particular genre. 14. Determiners are consistently absent, both in embedded and main proverbs. 15. Locative anaphora, which are consistently absent in (embedded and main) proverbs, (similar to its consistent absence from drama, medical information and individual songs) also occur consistently in the main genres of pact stories and cultural documentation. 16. Idiomatic expressions are consistently absent in embedded and main proverbs.9 17. In contrast, emphatic pronouns are insignificant for both embedded and main proverbs.

18. French loanwords occur in quoted riddle texts, although this only reflects the French titles that were used in literacy booklets in which this genre was edited. This genre marker may be misleading, especially since French loanwords are consistently absent in eleven of the main genres. French loanwords are not a genre marker of natural riddles. They reflect the citation form of the compiled riddles when read aloud in group discussions around the house.

19. Perfect first plurals mark genealogies by its consistent occurrence in these interviews, like in the main texts with cultural information (the embedding genre).

20. Pronouns of the third person plural occur consistently in genealogical interviews (while they are consistently absent in drama). The form also characterises its embedding cultural documentation. 21. Relative clause marker with affix –öö is another form that characterises both cultural documentation and genealogies (with consistent absence in the main genres drama and church songs). 22. The consecutive prefix also characterises both cultural documentation and genealogies (with consistent absence in the main genres drama and trickster stories). 23. However, use of the resumption marker characterises genealogies without consistent presence in cultural documentation (it only is consistent in the main genre of ghost stories). 24. Similarly, use of adverbial tîakû ‘then’ is significant for genealogical interviews, whereas it only occurs incidentally in all other main genres.10 25. In reverse, past participles is consistently absent in genealogy, like in its embedding genre cultural documentation. The form is not consistently used in any embedded-speech genre. In the main corpus they are consistently absent in drama (compared with their significance for ghost stories and individual songs). 26. The Object Prefixes’ consistent absence marks genealogy (like its embedding genre cultural documentation). In the main corpus the Object Prefix distinguishes animal- and trickster stories by its consistent presence from medical information and riddles (main genres with consistent absence).

9 Idiomatic expressions are a highly distinctive form in the main corpus (where the form is consistently absent from drama, medical information, and work orders while significant for animal stories and circumcision songs). Apparently none of these embedded genre is represented by reported speech fragments with a consistent use of this form. Idiomatic expressions apparently characterise the main text, except for in proverbs. 10 Its function as genre marker for genealogies is noteworthy in comparison to for instance títa ‘just now’, a form that is common to all embedded genres and main genres alike. The adverbial tîakû expresses an ordering of events, as most dimension one features. Its use in an embedded genre is exceptional.

223 27. The optative is consistently absent in genealogy, (like in its embedding cultural documentation), while, in the main corpus, the form occurs highly distinctively in several performative genres. 28. Adverbial clitic kû (a recurrence marker), is consistently absent from genealogies in comparison to all other embedded genres that exhibit some incidental use of this form (in the main corpus the clitic is consistently absent from drama only, while it consistently occurs in pact stories). 29. Habitual third singulars are consistently absent in embedded genealogy (and incidentally used in cultural documentation). In the main corpus the form occurs consistently in church- and circumcision songs. The form is of no influence on the language use that determines the embedding genre. 30. Adverbs are consistently absent in genealogy, while they are incidentally used in cultural documentation. In the main corpus adverbs are consistently used in medical information.

Table 6.A confirms the impression table 4.2B gave about conventions for embedded genres, that Budu developed some strict conventions, which result in fixed pairs of particular genres and their fixed embedded-speech genres. As for the language use, similarities are observed between fixed pairs of embedding main genres and their embedded genres. To summarise the fixed pairs observed in the previous discussion, reproaches occur embedded in trickster stories, explaining use of the same genre markers in both; guarantees are embedded in church songs, explaining the use of oath vocatives and of second person pronouns in both; story songs are embedded in stories, explaining the use of third person singular pronouns and additives in trickster stories; many dialogues with agreements are reported in stories, explaining the use of auxiliaries in particularly trickster- ghost and riddle stories; while many longer dialogues with agreements occur in drama, explaining the use of lexical past verbs as genre marker in both. Proverbs are not embedded in any genre in particular. The distinctions that characterise embedded proverbs are similar to the ones that characterise autonomous proverbs: associative markers and attributive adjectives mark them by their presence while other forms are consistently absent from proverbs, being determiners, locative anaphora and idiomatic expressions. Genealogical interviews are embedded in cultural documentation. Therefore both are marked by a consistent presence of pronouns of the third person plural; relative affixes – öö; consecutive prefixes and by a consistent absence of past participles; Object Prefixes; and optatives. The distribution of most genre markers determines distinctive features of some embedding main genres apparently (see bold print in the table). The selected statistic method implies that genre markers that are common to most embedded- speech genres, and in comparison, have an absence that is only significant for genealogies or proverbs, are characteristic for most reported speech (see 14-17 and 25-30 in table 6.A). Similarly, genre markers that are consistently present in one particular genre are incidentally used in the other embedded genres. Because their use can be excluded in none of the embedded genres, they too can be considered as language use that is common to the mini-corpus, albeit in a different sense (see 1-13 and 18-14 in table 6.A). In conclusion, genealogies and proverbs seem to be the most exceptional genres in the mini- corpus. Because the opening of these genres only takes one question, the embedded genres are almost identical with the main genre. In all other cases the main genre is larger than the embedded- speech genre. Finally some remarks can be made about the forms that are not printed in bold in table 6.A. Eleven forms represent distinctions of language use that only characterises reported speech and not the main text in which the speech genre is embedded. These 11 forms reflect the nature of embedded- speech genres as suggestion of a natural or authentic use of language. The secondary nature of the genres implies that the speaker intends this language to be recognised as natural genre without necessarily replicating them. Secondary genres serve as icons. Therefore they tend to be, by nature, shorter than the natural genres to which they refer. This implies that, in general, embedded-speech genres represent short stretches of text with particularly salient characteristics. They contain no

224 adverbial temporal phrases and therefore need lexical future forms (in particular embedded requests do); no adverbial phrases to indicate a goal and therefore need additives in combination with short infinitives (in particular embedded proverbs do); no negating statements and therefore in disagreements a short Haa! ‘no!’ suffices; no elaborate ordering of events, requiring an adverbial clitic to express ordering and resumption markers (in particular in embedded genealogies), no elaborate descriptions and therefore adverbs are used (except in embedded genealogies); a mere marking of recurrent agents or recurrent actions instead of fully structured texts (except in embedded genealogies, which have no recurrence markers but consecutive prefixes to structure texts). French loanwords occur in the compiled riddles which edited version was included in the tagging (see chapter 4.1). All other forms can be explained as results of the nature of embedded genres, being secondary genres that do not arise in the situation of language use where the speaker finds herself/himself. These remarks concern the forms which are not in bold print in table 6.A.

6.2.2 Distinctive Features of Various Embedded Genres

Table 6.B lists forms that distinguish the embedded genres from each other, as can be observed from their consistent frequencies of use. The order in which the forms are listed is related to their consistent absence in particular genres, like table 6.A listed the forms in order of their consistent presence. For expositional reasons the genres are repeated in the same order as in table 6.A. In its second left column, the table denotes that quantifiers are consistently absent in warnings. It proceeds with vocatives and second person pronouns which are consistently absent in thoughts. The last rows represent a group of absences that characterise the rightmost genre, that of genealogy interviews. The forms in the left margin are listed to facilitate comparisons between the genres. The conventional embeddings can be observed again and are, just like in table 6.A, printed in bold.

225

Table 6.B: 28 distinctions between embedded genres, bold print for correspondences with main genres

1. reproach 2. warning 3. request 4. thoughts 5. decree 6. guarantee 7. disagreement 8. story songs songs 9. mocking 10. agreement 11. work order 12. prov//varia 13. riddles 14. genealogies 1. quantifier - 0 ------1 1 - 2. vocative - - - 0 - - - 1 - - - - - 0 3. pron 2 SG - - - 0 1 ------0 4. short infinitive - - - - 0 ------1 - - 5. Swahili loanw - - - - - 0 ------1 6. Perfect 3 SG - - - - - 0 - 1 - - - - - 1 7. interrog PRON 1 - - 1 - 0 - - - 1 - - - 0 8. Perfect 3 PL - - - - - 0 - 0 - 0 0 0 - 1 9. loc adverbials ------0 ------1 10. ideophone ------1 1 0 - - - 0 11. oath voc - - - - - 1 - - - 0 - - - 0 12. temp connect ------0 - 1 13. temp anaph ------0 - 1 14. adv tîa ------0 - 1 15. PRON 1 PL ------0 - 1 16. speech intr. bö ------0 - 1 17. verb negation ------1 - 0 18. adv. Mitigation - - - 1 ------0 - 0 19. IPF PR 1SG - - - 1 ------0 20. IPF 3 SG - - - 1 ------1 - 0 21. Perfect 2 SG 1 ------0 22. adv. exhort ------1 ------0 23. rev order ------1 - - - - - 0 24. IPF PR 2 SG ------1 - - - 0 25. intj oí ‘yes’ ------1 - - - 0 26. IPF FUT 1 PL ------1 - - - 0 27. CONS 2 SG ------1 - - 0 28. imperative ------1 - - 0

1. Quantifiers are consistently absent in warnings, which often are embedded in pact stories that consistently lack quantifiers as well. In contrast, quantifiers consistently occur in proverbs and riddles (embedded and main).

2. Vocatives are consistently absent in proverbs, genealogies and thoughts. Story songs, with their consistent presence of vocatives apparently determine the consistent use of vocatives in embedding genre ghost stories while in the main corpus the form is highly distinctive.

3. Second person singular pronouns lack in thoughts like in the main genre life stories, whereas they consistently occur in decrees, pact stories represent the main genre with most decrees embedded in it. Pact stories also have a consistent presence of second person singular pronouns. Whereas 4. Short infinitives are consistently absent from decrees, unlike from the embedding genre of pact stories. They are consistently absent in church songs as well. In contrast, short infinitives occur in embedded proverbs, similar to their consistent occurrence in the main genre of riddles.

226

5. Swahili loanwords occur consistently in guarantees and in the main genre church songs.11 They are also consistently used in genealogical interviews.

6. Perfect third singular forms are distinctive for embedded genealogies and for story genres (main genres). It is therefore not surprising that the form lacks in embedded-speech genres with less connective statements such as guarantees. Consistent absence of 8. Perfect third person plural forms also distinguishes story songs as one of the short verbal exchanges that resembles embedded agreements and the main genre drama, which also exhibit consistent absence of the form. They are consistently absent in both embedded and main work orders.

7. Interrogative pronouns occur consistently in reproaches (and in the main genre of riddles). Their unpredictable use in embedded riddles is related to the short story nature of many. In reproaches, interrogatives are used in a rhetorical sense. The speaker comments with second person Perfect forms, in retrospect, on the actions of the addressee. This retrospect results in the consistent use of interrogative pronouns in reproaches and thoughts alike. In agreements interrogatives occur consistently for proposals. The lack of interrogative pronouns in genealogies represents one of the forms that is consistently absent in both cultural documentation and in its embedded genealogical interviews. The lack of interrogative pronouns in guarantees reflects the character of statements that are made without expected reaction (as in non-directive communication, see 5.2.3).

8. Perfect third person plurals are consistently absent in several embedded genres while consistently present in genealogy (unlike in cultural documentation). Their absence in drama is comparable to their absence in agreements, although dialogues in drama were not labelled as embedded agreement).

9. Locative adverbials are consistently absent in disagreements, like in the main genre drama, which is also representing short verbal exchanges. Locative adverbials consistently occur in genealogy like in its embedding cultural documentation. Although the main genres work orders and proverbs lack locative adverbials, the form incidentally occurs in embedded genres with the same name, reflecting the short verbal interchanges represented in embedded work orders and proverbs, providing situated references.

10. Ideophones are consistently absent in agreements and in genealogies. The 9th (and 8th) column denotes the significance of ideophones for story songs and mocking songs (that consistently occur in ghost stories and party songs). Mocking songs occur embedded in ghost stories and can be used independently during beer drinking parties. The mocking songs in table 6.B are all embedded in narrative text. It nevertheless is not surprising that mocking songs, similar to autonomous party songs, exhibit a consistent use of ideophones.

11. Oath vocatives occur consistently in agreements, similar to the main genre church songs. Oath vocatives consistently occur in the opening statement of guarantees, embedded in the main genre church songs and in stories. The form lacks consistently in genealogical interviews.

12. Temporal connectives and 13. temporal anaphora are consistently absent in embedded proverbs and present in genealogy, similar to their distinctions in the main genres proverbs and cultural documentation. It is obvious that the forms are not characteristic for story songs, although they occur as

11 The embedding of guarantees incidentally occurs in trickster stories as well. In that case guarantees represent sheer entertainment, because they are uttered by the deceitful trickster himself. This is a typical case of secondary genre use (cf. Bakthin 1981), since the embedding trickster stories provide the humorous meaning to the primarily performative forms. Church songs are not the only genre with embedded guarantees.

227 highly distinctive features of narrative genres (of the first dimension) 14. The adverbial clitic tîa has the same distribution.

15. First person plural pronouns are one of distinctions between genealogies and proverbs. The main genre proverbs, like other embedded genres, has no consistent absence of these pronouns, but embedded proverbs consistently lack first person pronouns. 16. Speech introducer bö ‘that,’ has, like the previous three forms, a consistent absence in proverbs similar to their distinction in the main genre of proverbs, while speech introducers do not consistently occur in cultural documentation, unlike their consistent use in genealogical interviews. 17. Verbal negation exhibits also a slightly different use. Although it is significant for both embedded and main proverbs, it consistently lacks in the main genre of animal stories, while it occurs consistently in genealogical interviews.

18. Adverbial mitigation is consistently used to express self-exhortations in thoughts, while the form is consistently absent from embedded proverbs and genealogy. In the main corpus it consistently occurs in the main genre drama only. Adverbial mitigation seems to be more distinctive for reported speech than for the main texts, in line with its use in dialogues (in drama).

19. Future Imperfect first singular forms consistently occur in thoughts, while consistently absent from genealogy (like from its embedding cultural documentation). They occur consistently in the main genre of parables, where the use probably is restricted to the embedded thoughts.

20. Present Imperfect third singulars are consistently used in thoughts and in (main and) embedded proverbs. They are consistently used in the main genres pact stories and in medical information. The forms are consistently absent in genealogy (like in the main genre cultural information).

21. Perfect second singulars are consistently absent in genealogy (unlike in cultural documentation, where the form occurs only incidentally. In contrast the form is consistently used in reproaches (and in the main genres of drama and party songs).

22. Adverbial Exhortation occurs consistently in disagreements, while it is consistently absent from genealogies. In contrast to the main corpus, where adverbial exhortation is incidentally used in all genres alike (it only marks drama and parables& other pulpit speech as genre markers), in the mini- corpus adverbial exhortation is used to distinguish embedded genres from each other.

23. Reversed order apparently characterises story-song parts of stories, while it is only incidentally used in the embedding story text. In the main corpus reversed order is significant for another song genre, that of church songs. It is also consistently absent in embedded genealogy.

24. Imperfect present second singulars distinguish embedded agreements, where they occur consistently, from genealogical interviews, where they are consistently absent. This is not surprising considering its consistent occurrence in directive genres, such as the main genre of work orders and party songs (they are also absent in drama) 25. Interjection oí ‘yes’ occurs consistently in agreements, (while significant for the main genre individual songs). Like Imperfect present second singulars, this interjection is also consistently absent from genealogical interviews. 26. Future Imperfect forms first plural share this distribution over agreements (where they occur consistently) and genealogies (where they are consistently absent).

228 27. Consecutive Second singulars are used consistently in work orders (main and embedded). In the main corpus they are consistently absent in drama, life stories and cultural documentation. In the mini corpus a consistent absence can only be observed in genealogies. 28. Imperatives are significant for embedded work orders, not for embedded work orders. The distribution of Imperatives with Consecutives in the main corpus, where both are consistently absent from life stories and cultural documentation, is noteworthy. Their absence in cultural documentation corresponds to their consistent absence in genealogies. In the main corpus imperatives are also significant to church songs and individual songs, while consistently absent from animal-, pact stories. As the distribution of the last two forms may give rise to some questions, reflecting a noteworthy difference between embedded and main work orders, it is discussed prior to other general observations. The code for Imperfect Future second singular forms was also used for Consecutive forms carrying irreal mood of a preceding verb form, even though these forms are no Imperfects (see for the discussion about this decision section 4.2.3). Use of these forms provides texts with a certain structure that enables the addressee to distinguish between the main orders (in imperatives) and the detailed instructions that follow it (in consecutive forms). Embedded work orders are, by default, much shorter than autonomous work orders. No explicit structuring of the text is desired in short embedded work orders, since verbal interchanges provides a certain structure. This explains that autonomous texts have few imperatives in relation to the frequently used consecutive forms (2 SG) in the main genre of work orders. Imperatives are not significant for main work orders, while they are in embedded work orders as the longer stretches of text in the main genre imply the need for a structure, differentiating main orders and minor orders by alternating use of the Imperative with consecutive forms. Similarly, genealogical interviews differ from their embedding genre because they are slightly shorter and therefore also marked by a consistent absence of some forms that incidentally occur in cultural documentation.12 This reflects the monologues represented by that genre, which consists of answers to questions in interviews, while forms that, in contrast, are consistent in genealogies and not in cultural documentation reflect attempts to instantaneously structure the text with short infinitives (to indicate goals), speech introducers (to introduce subordinated phrases) and verbal negation (for contrasts). Like in comment on table 6.A, remarks considering this table included that genealogies and proverbs apparently exhibit exceptional language use. In contrast to other embedded genres, that have less similarities in language use, these two genres do, their stretches of text being largely identical with the stretches represented in the main embedding genre. Like the similarities of embedded genealogies with cultural documentation, the resemblances of proverbs with embedded proverbs can be observed from 17 correlations in table 6.B.13 Twelve distinctions of other genres can be explained from resemblances between embedded-speech genres with particular main genres.14

12 The consistent absence of exhortation, mitigation, interjection oí and reversed constituent order (focalisation by left-dislocation) and its lack of second singular forms (Perfect and Imperfect) co-occur with the presence of third plural Perfect forms. 13 Proverbs lack, whether they are embedded or not, temporal connectives and temporal anaphora, adverbial clitics tîa, verbal negation and speech introducers, while they lack imperfect third singular present forms. Genealogical interviews lack, like cultural documentation, temporal connectives and temporal anaphora, adverbial clitics tîa, Future Imperfect first and second singular forms and Imperfect Present third singular forms and interrogative pronouns, while they exhibit the consistent use of speech introducers, Perfect third plural forms and locative adverbials. 14 Indicated in bold print are the following correspondences between the use of Swahili loanwords in guarantees and the embedding church songs; the use of short infinitives and second singular pronouns in both decrees and its embedding pact stories; the use of ideophones and vocatives in story songs (including mocking songs) and in embedding ghost stories; and the use of consecutive verb second singulars in work orders (both embedded and main). Furthermore resemblances can be observed between drama and embedded-speech genres like disagreement (for the use of exhortation and the lack of locative adverbials) or reproaches (for the use of Perfect

229

6.2.3 Interpretation of Results

Instead of a separate discussion of each form, the tables 6.A and B will be discussed at the hand of discussed dimensions of variation in the main corpus, as one cluster of forms seems to co-occur in genealogies whereas another cluster co-occurs in proverbs. One could divide the characteristics of embedded genres in two groups, with one group distinguished like genealogies are, and the other similar to proverbs. First, relating the results for the embedded genres with the conclusions to chapter 5, it seems that none of the forms of the first cluster is used consistently in most embedded genres. This cluster was observed in chapter 5 to distinguish presentations of events (see figure 5A). Only in embedded genealogy the following distinctions of temporally-connective presentations of events occur:

-locative anaphora (lacks in proverbs& other sayings) -temporal anaphora (lacks in proverbs& other sayings) -speech introducing bö (lacks in proverbs& other sayings15 -temporal connectives (lacks in proverbs& other sayings) -locative adverbs (lacks in disagreements) -adverbial tîa (lacks in proverbs& other sayings) -Perfect third singulars (significantly in story songs and lacks in guarantees)

Except for Perfect third singulars, which are significant for story songs and genealogies, these cluster 1 forms (discussed in 5.2.1) distinguish only one genre in the mini-corpus and this is genealogies.16 This reflects that story songs, next to genealogies, are the embedded genre with the most connective presentation, occurring as integrated parts of story genres. Next to third singular pronouns, story songs also are distinguished by third singular Perfect inflection (cf. table 6.A), as most narrative genres. In embedded proverbs, the consistent absence of these forms characterises it in relation to other embedded speech genres. Some use of the seven forms can be observed in reported speech, but too incidental to distinguish any embedded-speech genre in particular.17 It can be concluded that only a few embedded-speech genres seem to be determined by their embedding main genre. Embedded-speech genres tend to contrast with their embedding story-genre by an insignificant use of features that characterise temporally-connective presentation. In contrast, the cluster that co-occurs to characterise spontaneous production seems to be represented in reported speech (see table 5E). Embedded genres tend to exhibit some use of the forms that distinguish spontaneous production. This may be related to the narrators’ desire to mimick spontaneously produced speech. No less than seven members of the fifth cluster occur consistently in embedded genres: second singulars), and between mocking songs and party songs (for the use of ideophones), while reversed order distinguishes several song types, including story songs. 15 This particular form co-occurs with the forms distinctive of redundancy. It is a multifunctional form. Since this form always occurs in the embedding text, introducing reported speech, it does not occur frequently in most embedded genres. It therefore was not listed with the members of the cluster of redundancy (to be discussed next) but with the forms of the first cluster, with which it also co-occurs. As multi-functional form. 16 The only exception is locative anaphora. All other forms are also consistent for the language use in cultural documentation. 17 In addition one other form can be mentioned for its similar distribution. Determiners are not distinctive of connective presentation, all the same they are significant to genealogies, while, like the forms listed above, they lack in genres with isolated statements like riddles, party songs, circumcision songs, proverbs (main and embedded), church songs and drama, probably since determiners are the easiest form to produce subordinated phrases.

230

- IPF 2 SG forms (significant in embedded work orders; lack in genealogy)18 -short infinitives (significant in proverbs& other sayings; lack in decrees) -adverbs (lack in genealogy) -interrogative pronouns (significant in reproach; thoughts; agreement; lack in genealogy and in guarantees) -the resumptive marker ëë- (significant in genealogy and in the main genre of ghost stories) -the recurrence marker Adv clitic kû (lacks in genealogy) -Imperfect Future first singular (significant in thoughts, lacks in genealogy)

In contrast to the cluster with seven features of the presentation of events that are not necessarily used in embedded-speech genres, the features of spontaneous production occur consistently in various embedded genres. Reported speech is characterised by these distinctions as spontaneous speech or as language that is produced without careful preparation (see the discussion in section 5.2.5) whereas some embedded genres are distinguished as carefully prepared production.19 In reference to embedded genres the seven listed forms are, for expository reasons, from now on called feature of spontaneous production. The consistent absence of almost all features of production in genealogies is noteworthy. Genealogical interviews seem to represent the only embedded-speech genre with ‘negative’ distinctions of spontaneous production, apparently distinguished as well prepared speech, with the consistent use of first plural pronouns. Only the consistent use of resumption markers and the incidental use of short infinitives reflects a certain redundancy that is characteristic for the spontaneous production of the interviews (see table 5E). Apparently interviews about genealogy differ from cultural documentation in respect of their consistent use of ‘spontaneous features.’ The main genre is distinguished as careful preparation, while the embedded genre has some features of spontaneous production. The interviews combine the absence of most cluster 5 features with the consistent use of first plural pronouns and therefore their conventional use reflects the most careful production of all embedded-speech genres. Exceptionally ‘easy-made’ constructions may co-occur in both genealogy and in guarantees. In the mini-corpus of embedded speech the particular use of two forms, namely the speech introducer bö and the resumptive marker ëë-, reflect redundancy. The speech introducer was already commented on (it introduces embeddings). Its use as a connective morpheme in genealogies is characteristic for spontaneously produced speech, similar to the use of the resumptive marker as indication of section breaks. Genealogies represent the best -prepared embedded genre, as will be discussed after an illustration of the genre with a text excerpt. Readers who are not interested in this illustration may want to continue at section 6.2.4. An excerpt20 is included here to illustrate the language use in the exceptional genre of genealogies:

18 The code for Imperfect Future second singular forms was also used for Consecutive forms carrying irreal mood of a preceding verb form, even though these forms are no Imperfects (see for the discussion about this decision section 4.2.3). 19 It is not unthinkable that these distinctions are exploited by storytellers to convey the authenticity of the reported speech. More likely however, is the effect of the shared factors that are present in genres with spontaneous production and (fictitiously) in embedded genres with reported verbal interchanges. These factors consist of the production circumstances in a context that is shared by speaker and addressee. “Situated references such are made by interrogative pronouns and second person Imperfect forms, are common to on-line production circumstances’ (Biber 1995:248). 20 This is taken from an interview of Mr. Mundende by Mr. Fomuno Alongbaa on cassette 15 text 1.

231

6.2.4 Excerpt from a Genealogical Interview21

Ëë… ba-tö-mü-wa, bö-püngö ïbô tîa pata ü-ba RES PF.3PL-CONS.P-OP.3SG-kill HPF.3PL-start them now INF.get(Swahili) CL-fear 1. OK, after they then had killed him, 2. they started to be afraid

bö, ba-na-bö akö-chwëa dité, that PF.3PL-ADD-them PROG-go.out war that 3. somebody would start a war against them.

Lakini ba-öö böbökö dité ng-ïlë-nënï But (Swahili) PF.3PL-be-TEMP.AF INF.flee war DET-REL-GIVEN 4. However, the way they fled for the (possibility of) that particular war,

ba-mbü (kö)mû a-nï-mb-ïa m-uto, PF.3PL–NEGIPF not to-INF.know-APL CL-person 5. they didn’t tell anybody

Ng-ïa na-bö a-konyo. Lakini küdhö, DET –REL ADD-them to-INF.stay.over.for.night But (SW) then 6. that joined them. 7. But then,

ba-tö-ngwa batá ö marayapili inani, PF.3PL-CONS–travel again of second.time(SW) there, when they travelled there later for the second time,

Bö-püngö töa ndû ba-Nïta, ba-Kabhi ng-üba-b-ômö, HPF.3PL-start INF.go.out if CL-Neta, CL-tribe DET –REL –CL-LOGOPH 8. they started to go out like the Neta, being another clan.

In the first place, the use of various Swahili loanwords is exceptional.22 Another particularity of this text is the use of a full pronoun in line 3. In pre-verb root position an Object Prefix would be the expected. Swahili has the same additive-pronoun combination for object reference. This particularity may occur in places where exposure to Swahili is considerable.23 Furthermore, a good narration with temporally-connective presentation of events seems intended by the speaker, considering the use of, for instance, the relative temporal affix –öö. At the same time the following ‘easy’ expressions are used to connect different events instead of specific time references:

21 Information about the line of descent of a clan member or his blood brother is provided as the occasion arises (during a visit with an older relative). Social interaction requires an adequate knowledge of who belongs to which lineage. Without this knowledge one might break important taboos concerning sexual relations with the own lineage. Also the lineage of the blood brother is, in this respect, considered as ones very own lineage. 22 It may be related to the use of Swahili in the market. As inhabitant of market town Ibambi, the speaker is exposed to this language. Villagers that live at a distance from Ibambi hardly use the language of wider communication Swahili, except in trading. When, from February 1995 to January 1996, my family and I started to live in the Budu area, we lived next-door to the maternity clinic of Ibambi, where we discovered that some patients who stayed at the clinic for childbirth often did not understand Swahili greetings. Other patients were quick to explain to us that these women never use Swahili in their village. 23 All the same this is one of the few (less than five) places in the entire (main) corpus where it can be observed.

232 - line 1 the consecutive –tö- and the resumptive marker ëë are used instead of a more specific temporal connective or adverbial anaphora. The lexical consecutive prefixes -tö- do not occur consistently in texts with much redundancy, only in genealogies embedded in cultural documentation. - line 2 the connective bö ‘that’ is used explaining the reason for ‘fear’. This connective is usually limited to the introduction of speech. The noun üba ‘fear’ might, like a speech verb, be triggering the use of this particular connective here. As a speech introducer the forms is distinctive of connective presentation, while its particular use as connective reflects instantaneous production. - Beginning line 2, an auxiliary is used, as often in storytelling to focus on a process. All the same its use here reflects an easy structuring of the text in chronological manner: böpüngö ‘they started’ that is repeated after the fleeing (bökö in line 4) in line 8. This auxiliary represents a certain extent of redundancy if compared with lexically more specific adverbials. The last could be alternatively used since there is no syntactic inchoative in Budu. - a distinctive feature of the spontaneous production of this interview is the use of various short infinitives (line 2 (Swahili), line 4, line 5, line 6 and line 8). - in line 4 reversed order represents an easy construction of pragmatically marked constituents marking focus. - in line 8, a logophoric pronoun is attached to a determiner functioning as topic shift marker. The new Topic is the birth of the Neta clan. While the new topic could be announced by an entire new setting with adverbial phrases, the focus constructions in line 4 could be formulated with an entire episode by means of emphatic pronouns or parallel constructions like in purely connective communication. The spontaneous production reflected in this text results in an easy construction for emphasis that is indicated by reversed order and by the relative phrase on –öö (extraordinarily attached to the auxiliary.)24 Although the same various features of connective presentation are exploited, the excerpt illustrates the relative redundancy of language use, that texts with a spontaneous production exhibit by its particular use of these forms.

6.2.5 A Separate Dimension for Communication in Embeddings

At the hand of references to two dimensions of variation in the main corpus it was possible to interpret the two main respects in which genealogies and proverbs differ from other embedded-speech genres (the rest of the mini-corpus). However, dimensions of variation that distinguish the main genres (in the main corpus) do not function as the main distinction between the embedded genres. Only two of the clusters of co-occurrence discussed in chapter 5, seem to play some role distinguishing embedded genres. If one compares the results of chapter 5 with the results of this chapter, the 5th cluster appears to most characteristic for reported speech. It is nevertheless better to interpret the distinctions of reported speech as a separate dimension that combines cluster 1 and 5. They can be considered as ‘combined’ in an entirely separate dimension of variation that seems to determine language use in embedded genres. The dimension corresponds to a continuum of relatively non-spontaneously produced, connective presentation vs. spontaneously produced, non-connective presentation. In this continuum genealogies are for example ‘relatively’ ´non-spontaneously produced´, since only two of seven features of spontaneously produced texts occur consistently in the texts representing this embedded genre. In comparison to the embedding, main genre cultural documentation embedded

24 This text contains several features of incorrect pronunciation, a cross-linguistic feature of spontaneously produced texts. (Mr. Anzabati, personal communication). One particular feature is the use of the Historical Perfect in connection with temporal affix, followed by an infinitive. Normally the affix is attached to the verb- complex (the infinitive being the last part), however, since this construction has the Historic Perfect Tense tonal restrictions condition attachment to the auxiliary.

233 genealogies are relatively redundant. Since this dimension is particular to embedded speech, it has a separate label elaborate versus non-elaborate, as will be explained. Table 6.6 represents a dimension of elaborate vs. non-elaborate speech. It can be observed because particular forms co-occur in the entire mini-corpus by their shared presence or by their shared absence; in complementary distribution. The resulting cluster of co-occurrence is listed in the next reordered selection of table 6.B, with the total amount of significances in the margins, as in the tables 5.AAA to 5.FFF. Cluster 5-features are underlined, while cluster 1-features are in italic print. All correlations result from a comparison of fourteen embedded genres, while brackets indicate some correlations that did not occur in an earlier comparison without riddles and genealogies:25

Table 6.6 Dimension of variation observed between elaborate vs. non-elaborate reported speech Underlined forms represent forms that are similar to the features of spontaneous productions Forms in italics represent forms that are similar to distinctions of temporally-connective presentation

Genealogy Decree Guarantee Warning Request Mocking song Disagreement Reproach Thoughts Riddles Work order Story songs Agreement Proverbs/varia

0 - 0 - Interrog pron - - 1 1 - - - 1 - 5 0 - - - - IPF PR 3 SG - - - 1 - - - - 1 3 - - - (0) - Quantifier - - - - 1 - - - (1) 3

- - - - - Less than 3 new words/ cl 1 - - - - - 1 - 1 3 - - - - - Less than - - - - 1 1 1 - 1 4

75% fu wr 0 - - - - PR IPF 2 SG ------1 - 2 0 - - - - Interj oí ‘yes’ ------1 - 2

0 - - - - FUT IPF 1 PL ------1 - 2

0 - - - - CONS 2SG - - - - - 1 - - - 2 0 - - - - Imperative - - - - - 1 - - - 2 0 - - - - PF 2 SG - - 1 ------2 0 - - - - IPF FUT 1 SG - - - (1) - - - - 2 0 - - - - Adverb. EXH. - 1 ------2

0 - - - - Verbal negat ------(1) 2 0 - - - - Rev. order ------1 - - 2 - - - - - 0 % rep sp - - - - 1 - 1 - - 2

- 0 - - - Short infinitive ------1 2

1 - - - - Loc adverb - (0) - - - - 0 - 3 1 - - - - Speech intr bö ------(0) 2 1 - - - - PRON 1 PL ------(0) 2 1 - - - - Temp connect ------(0) 2 1 - - - - Temp anaph ------(0) 2 1 - - - - Adv tîa ------(0) 2 18 1 1 1 0 1 2 2 3 3 3 4 4 11

Reported speech is distinguished by several forms of the cluster of production (see underlined forms). These forms, which all, by their redundancy, reflect spontaneous production, are common to most embedded genres, as the right side of table 6.6 shows. Unlike in the genres of the main corpus one of its negative features, namely the Future first person plural Imperfect, co-occurs with the positive members of spontaneous production. The

25 Of course the entire columns for riddles and genealogies only represent results that were not included in a comparison of the twelve genres without riddles and genealogies.

234 first and fifth cluster were observed in the distribution of forms over the genres of the main corpus. Please note that the cluster of table 6.6 is particular to the distinctions between embedded genres, while entire texts in the main corpus exhibit no systematical co-occurrences of this nature. The particular co-occurrences of features in this cluster are exclusively to the embedded genres, where it distinguishes them from each other while separating embedded text from the main genre. Three particular genres at the left side of the table have significant co-occurrences of cluster 1-features (in italic print). Guarantees, decrees and genealogy represent temporally-connective language. At the same time, these embedded genres are distinguished by the use of several negative members of the cluster of spontaneous production. Verbal negation co-occurs with the lack of Future Imperfect first person plural forms in what seem to be the shorter genres of reported speech. A reverse distribution is observed in the more elaborate genealogy, while embedded in cultural documentation.26 The three are not only characterised for their temporally-connective presentation, they are also distinguished as the most carefully prepared speech of all embedded genres. An extreme contrast between genealogical interviews and proverbs is at the basis of this dimension of elaborate vs. non-elaborate speech. The artificially large contrast with respectively 18 correlations at its extreme negative end and 11correlations at its extreme positive end is related to the exceptionally autonomous character of the two particular genres.27 The inclusion of two extremely differing embedded-speech genres in the mini-corpus clearly impacts the results. In individual genres some forms, such as the interrogative pronoun, the Imperfect present third singular and the short infinitive, are used with a significant frequency in comparison to proverbs and genealogy. Nine of the fourteen embedded genres represent co-occurrences of the presented cluster that can still be observed even if two genres are disregarded.28 This contrast is shown in table 6.6, where 55 correlations are presented. Only ten of them are placed between brackets since they depend on a comparison that includes genealogies and riddles. The inclusion of riddles and genealogy apparently has an ‘amplifying effect’ on the results, in particular since genealogies and proverbs exhibit extreme differences. All the same, most of the contrasts represented in the twelve other genres appear to be independent of the inclusion of genealogies and riddles. If a contrastive analysis between the two sets of distinguished genres in table 6.6 is done, less- elaborate speech can be related to an urgency of communication. The genres on the right-hand side represent urgency whereas the genres on the left-hand side represent long monologues. On the right- hand side story songs often represent the frantic pursuit of an enemy that is addressed with rebuke and reproaches represent fatal confrontations with deceitful friends (this urgency was commented on earlier when the lack of locative adverbials was observed in disagreements). Compare table 6.6. to appendix 5A (cluster 3) to see that various of its features co-occur in non-elaborate speech, like in case of the third dimension discussed for the main genres in section 5.2.3.

26 In contrast to cultural documentation that represents carefully prepared speech, (see table 5E), genealogies represent a considerable amount of redundant speech forms, as can be explained by the nature of embeddings. All elaborate speech genres are embedded in spontaneously produced main genres with exception of cultural documentation. This main genre consists of texts with genealogical interviews embedded in it. By exception elaborate interviews are embedded in carefully produced cultural documentations. Cultural documentation is a carefully prepared genre, whereas genealogical interviews that are embedded in that main genre tend to represent elaborate speech. (This discrepancy is reflected in the exceptional distribution of first person pronouns in table 5). 27 Since the use of both genres is highly conventionalised, the need for direct references to the ongoing discourse is minimal. Proverbs are typically used by individuals to evaluate social cases by means of metaphorical references. Genealogical interviews provide young relatives with the necessary information to avoid dangerous relations (dangerous to the clan) with relatives. This conventional use of the genres explains the minimal size of their embedding. Other embedded genres have embeddings that consist of long stretches of text with situated references in the text of the embedding itself. 28 In a pretest with twelve instead of fourteen genres, thirty five correlations of the eighty eight correlations remained unchanged in a test with twelve, instead of fourteen genres. Riddles and genealogical interviews were added as thirteenth and fourteenth genre, which results in the correlations as presented here.

235 In several languages urgency in communication is associated with argumentative communication (see for example Biber 1995:257). The co-occurrence of some features of direct appeals29 in non-elaborate genres is apparently related to the urgency of communication that tends to be expressed in these non-institutional genres, where persuasion plays a role. In contrast, the genres on the left-hand side seem to be elaborate. Decrees and guarantees form Budu institutions that are related to the leader of the village or lineage and to special bonds between members of the same lineage amongst each other. The institutional setting of these two genres is indicated by their performative genre markers, since decrees consistently lack short infinitives; while the oath vocative occurs consistently in guarantees.30 Therefore elaborate language use seems to indirectly reflect the authority of speakers in institutional setting, whereas non-elaborate language use may reflect the desire to persuade the addressee with directive communication (cf. table 5C). A final remark considering table 6.6 is the number of genres distinguished on each side of the continuum. Most embedded-speech genres tend to represent non-elaborate language use. This seems to follow from their nature as reported speech with secondary use the genre involved in that speech. Natural, first-hand speech would be, in most cases, more elaborate. Except for cases where the narrator portrays the reported speech for some reason as elaborate, embedded-speech genres tend to be shorter than corresponding genres in natural speech. Embedded genres are apparently only distinguished with respect to their elaboration. This distinction can be explained from the iconic function of embedded-speech. In conclusion, embedded genres are, in general, distinguished as spontaneous production without temporally-connective presentation of events. Therefore, most embedded-speech genres are non-elaborate (and appear on the right-hand side of table 6.6). In order to illustrate a particular embedded genre, a small subsection on guarantees is provided here. It can be skipped by readers who are not interested in text illustrations.

6.2.6 Excerpt from an Embedded Guarantee31

Oaths tend to be sworn in private, towards siblings. Oaths bind the witnesses together with a special bond. This genre, which represents a semi-official institution in Budu culture, begins with an extremely performative oath-statement ‘hereby I, at the place where I am now, declare in the presence of the witnesses, that …’ (see section 8.3.1.2):

Înü b-aná bö î-náa, pëpë tá ïm Agbamütaa, akë na-öö aka bö, You CL-child CL-of CL-mother EMPH just me Agbamutaa here IPF.1SG-RAF now that, 6. Unto you witnesses, I declare that I myself here where I am now,

No-sik-eni sínaní m-oí, o-s-eni aki a-nd-abö, PF.1SG-take-COND ever CL-woman PF.3SG-go-COND there at-place-theirs 7. That, if I will ever marry a wife and if she goes to see her family,

No-ngwi-eni tîa kyënda banî bö, PF.1SG-travel-COND now travel such like if I then make a trip such as that

29 Features of directive communication that occur in non-elaborate speech are imperatives, second person forms, interrogative pronouns, interjections, modal exhortation. 30 This is in contrast with the absence of performative features in the genres on the right-hand side of table 6.6: idiomatic expressions are consistently absent in embedded proverbs; whereas optatives, past participlea and habituals are consistently absent in genealogies and oath vocatives in agreements. 31 The quoted guarantee is embedded in a pact story that was recorded in 1989 in Ibambi on tape 1 story 7 told by Basibabomu.

236

Na-nïsa akö-kpata m-oí ínaní a-banyaï bü-sëmï,. IPF.1SG-go PROG-follow CL-woman there at- in.laws CL-mine 8. I go get my wife there at my in laws,

n-ango-nyonyo tibí an-i-ju Tibí ka-na-dhu-eni anö ï-ngbaa IPF.1SG-NEG-press faeces in-CL-forest. Faeces CL-OP1SG-pres COND on CL-road I will not defecate in the forest. 9. If the faeces is pressing me during the trip,

na-hata tá kü mü-taa pö bö, Nö-bôya na-kö tá IPF.1SG-search only indeed CL-latrine perhaps like CONS.1SG-arrive with-CL just I will consequently only look for a latrine, or perhaps 10. I will arrive with that need just

a-ba-nyaï bü-sëmï, n-unyo-no akö mü-taa ng-üw-ínaní. at- CL-inlaws CL-mine CONS.1SG-relieve-REC on CL-latrine DET-REL-thee at my in-laws and relieve myself on the latrine that is there.

The excerpt with the lines 6-10 is taken from a story about a trip to future in-laws in the village of another lineage. The speaker has to travel through thick forest and is anxious to arrive at his in-laws in an impeccable state, without possible ‘accidents.’ Anticipating on the importance to impress his future in-laws, the bachelor in this text declares solemnly that, in any such case, he will never use the bush to defecate. In line 6 he calls upon his siblings as witnesses with a special vocative ‘you, children of mother.’ In the presence of his siblings the speaker swears an oath concerning his future actions. Since the speaker is unmarried he uses, in line 7, a conditional verb to talk about a future marriage. In his unmarried state he still is living in close relationship to his siblings. Although a particular vocative appeals, in this case, to the siblings as witnesses of an oath, the same appeal on siblings can be used with other addressees. Addressing siblings implies that one is prepared to guarantee something even towards the most intimate relatives present. In the closely-knit Budu households siblings usually are the ones who can tell whether a person is just boasting, exaggerating or telling the truth. Therefore any statement that appeals to these witnesses represents a strong guarantee, even when siblings in the most literal sense are not present. The sibling-vocative apparently functions as oath vocatives in guarantees.32 Oaths further comprise an emphasis on the moment of speaking, expressed by ‘akê na-öö aka bö’ here where I am’. Line 6 with this relative phrase with Imperfect Present is connected to the place of speaking in emphasis of the actual moment of speaking, as the relative affix (RAF in the gloss) shows. In line 7, three conditional forms indicate the irreal mood. The speaker specifies the conditions for his promised behaviour: “If he ever marries in the remote future; and if he then travels to his in-laws; and if he needs to defecate.” In those particular circumstances he promises to refrain from using the bush. Line 8 has a long infinitive in reference to a lengthy process. In Budu culture weddings and their preparations usually are time consuming.33 The shame involved is indicated with a long infinitive in line 8. It is the theme of the pact story in which this oath is embedded.

32 This may be the result of a diachronic development, in which this distinction of an oath started to function as feature of guarantees in general. 33 In Budu marriages women are free to withdraw to their parents home when they are not content in their own home. Women can make a ‘statement’ with such a trip, signalling their discontentment. Although this is taken very seriously, it never is irreversible without repayment of the bride price. The interest of the wife’s family, which needs to repay the bride price in case of failure to reconcile their daughter with her husband, is obvious. Nevertheless the husband needs to make an effort to visit his in-laws and ask his wife to return with him.

237 The embarrassment of ‘meeting the parents’ is a threat to the social personhood of the speaker and his family, which is addressed by performative language use in the form of an oath. In this oath the protagonist swears that he will not add anything to the existing embarrassment, if it is in his own power to do so. In reference to section 5.2.6 on performative language use, the language use in this oath is typical in its expression of positive politeness strategies that reduce the threat of loosing face including the language use by which such strategies are distinguished. Concluding this section about the oath formula, table 6.9 summarises its composing elements:

Table 6.9 Language use in oath and its elements:

A. acknowledgement of the present state of the speaker TEMPORAL AFFIX B. explicit reference to language yáka ‘word’ C. special vocative for the witnesses ÎNÜ baná bö înáa D. reference to another moment in time TEMPORAL ADVERBIAL

The various elements of oaths and guarantees are characteristic for all performative communication with their emphasis on the first person, the speech act and future events. Oath vocatives are characteristic for guarantees and occur as its genre marker.

6.2.7 Forms that occur in all Embedded Genres

Finally some forms are discussed that occur in all embedded genres alike. Table 6.C presents 17 forms that incidentally occur in all embedded genres. In a quantitative comparison of the frequencies of these forms in all embedded genres, none of these forms is significant for any genre in particular. Nevertheless these forms are of an interest to this research, because they give an impression of default language use in embedded genres. In table 6.C only forms that occur incidentally in the embedded genres are listed (some forms occur as genre markers in the main corpus, see table 5). Most of the 16 forms in table 6.C occur consistently in either drama or church songs, since these genres are reflecting the same interaction that is common in embedded-speech genres..34 In the main genres of work orders the Habitual second singular is significant. The form nevertheless does not consistently occur in embedded work orders; possibly since it distinguishes longer texts with differentiation between actions (see section 3.5.2.12). The features of performative genres (discussed in section 5.2.6.1) are apparently not important as distinction of any embedded-speech genre.35 Autonomous speeches reflecting performative communication have third person Future forms (IPF SG) (consistent occurrences in church songs), and present Imperfect plural and Habitual third singular forms. In contrast to the combination of forms that reflect the physical presence of the addressee, the combination of third with first person forms occurs only incidentally in embedded genres. Even embedded story songs, which resemble other song genres fail to reflect this dimension that is reflected in all autonomous song genres. Story songs do

34 Perfect second plurals and past Perfects with püngö are consistently used in drama and occur incidentally in all embedded-speech genres, Habitual first person forms and second and third plural habitual incidentally occur in all genres. Also Imperfect Future second and third plurals and Imperfect present second plurals occur incidentally in all embedded-speech genres, while they (except FUT 2 PL) are consistent for church songs in the main corpus. Expressions of surprise occur incidentally in all genres. Their use is only consistent for the main genre drama. 35 Several verbal prefixes are inconsistently used in embedded-speech genres; consider for example: Perfect first person forms are consistent for life stories (the singular is consistent for story songs and drama); Imperfect third person forms are consistent for church songs; Imperfect Future and the Habitual occur consistently in church songs the Habitual 3 SG is also consistent for circumcision songs. The Imperfect present first and second forms are consistently used in church songs.

238 not share the distribution of performative features such as idiomatic expressions or polite vocatives either.36 In the light of these observations, performative communication seems to be the dimension which is least reflected in embedded genres.

Table 6.C correlation matrix 14 embedded genres with forms that occur incidentally in the mini-corpus

Reproach Warning Request thoughts Decree Guarantee Disagreem. Story songs Mocking sg Agreement Work order Prov/varia Riddles Genealogy Lex dens 4.2 4.1 3.3 4.5 4 4.1 3.3 2.8 2.4 3.2 3.4 2.6 4.9 4.2 % function words 82 84 84 80 81 83 86 75 83 80 79 70 70 77 % dir sp 0 0 0 2.3 0 0 0 0 0 0.5 4 0 0 1.8 % ind sp 9 5 5 2 6 1.5 4 0 3 4 5 1.5 3 3.0 Verbal prefixes Perfect 2 PL ------past PF püngö ------IPF PR 2 PL ------HAB 1 SG ------HAB 2 SG ------HAB 1 PL ------HAB 2 PL ------HAB 3 PL ------IPF FUT 2 PL ------IPF FUT 3 PL ------Adverbial morphemes batá ‘again’ ------títa ‘just now’ ------Adhaangîakë ------Reported speech Applic. SIGIO ------Other Sp intr V ------Connectives Negat. connective ------

6.2.8 Forms that Differentiate between Language Use in Main, and in Embedded Genres

In contrast to table 6.C, table 6.D shows 15 additional forms, which do not distinguish any embedded genre; these forms function as the distinctions between various main genres. The two groups will be discussed together, while only the forms in table 6.C are used to distinguish the main genres:

36 An observation made regarding table 5B was, that idiomatic expressions are not distinctively used in embedded-speech genres, and that they are absolutely absent in embedded proverbs& various sayings. Polite vocatives are not distinctively used in any embedded-speech genre in particular. In contrast their absence is consistent in five main genres, while their occurrence invariable characterises church songs; drama; and parables& pulpit speech. Their use in stage remarks in drama (see the excerpt in section 8.0 for example) results in this distinction counting as distinction of the genre. That is the reason that polite vocatives are not included in the features of performative language use (unlike in drama polite vocatives are consistently absent in various other non-performative genres, while they are consistently present in performative genres, see table 5.FF).

239 Table 6.D 17 forms that are consistently used in particular genres of the main corpus while their use in embedded-speech genres is merely incidental

form/genre Reproach Warning Request thoughts Decree Guarantee Disagreem Story songs Mocking sg Agreements Work order Prov/varia Riddles Genealogy Verbal prefixes PF 1 SG ------IPF FUT 3 SG ------Tense/ Mood/ Aspect markers Condit/gerund ------Modal auxiliary ------Long infinitive ------Noun Phrase Morphology det + topic shift ------Connectives Logic connect ------coordination ------Cohesive devices Rel cl –ëë ------Adverbial morphemes banî ‘like; thus’ ------Insist Marker Tá ------Reported speech marker Sp intr GA ------INF.akösigio ------Attention getting devices Polite vocatives ------Loanw Lingala ------Interj.surprise ------

Another grouping of forms that can be observed concerns distinctions of a temporally-connective presentation of events (as in narrative discourse). Although, in section 6.2.3 this cluster was observed to have some importance in embedded-speech genres, table 6.D shows exactly which features of cluster one occur incidentally in reported speech. While the embedding genre is narrative with a temporally-connective presentation, the embedded genres present non-narrative interludes with reported speech. For instance, Tense, mood and aspect (TMA) markers occur incidentally in embedded-speech genres, while most TMA marking function as genre-distinctions in the main corpus. 37 The incidental frequencies of lexical TMA markers in embedded-speech genres can be explained by the relative size of embedded genres. Conditionals represent subordinated clauses. These forms typically occur in more structured texts. It is not surprising that they are consistently absent in the main genres with un-connected texts (church songs) and in stories characterised by many verbal exchanges (trickster stories). Modal auxiliaries and long infinitives are both used in elaborate descriptions to emphasize processes. 38

37 Conditionals are consistently absent in church songs and in trickster stories and modal auxiliaries lack consistently in drama. Long Infinitives also lack in drama. 38 Conditionals and modal auxiliaries are consistently used in medical information. Conditionals also consistently occur in cultural documentation; long Infinitives in life stories and in church songs.

240 Similarly the noun phrase morphology is used in adverbial phrases to express cohesion, which is typical for connective presentation.39 Therefore it is not surprising that forms that relate to the NP morphology are insignificant as distinctions of embedded genres. Cohesive devices included some connectives that are consistently absent in drama and are insignificant in embedded genres. 40 In the 1st cluster of forms distinguishing temporally-connective presentation, some forms relate to the description of events. Consider the distribution of adverbial morphemes and reported speech introducers.41 The occurrence of these adverbial morphemes in embedded-speech genres is incidental. Their insignificance is related to their introductory function of descriptions. Because reported speech is used to illustrate rather than to describe, it is not surprising that these forms do not consistently occur in embedded genres. Similarly reported speech introducers are used in the main text to introduce the embedded text. They therefore do not consistently occur in the embedded-speech genres.42 Finally a last group of forms can be observed. A qualitative investigation of the texts suggests that these forms are too rare to distinguish any particular genre. Lingala loanwords seem to be one of the few members of this grouping next to the expression adhaa ngîakë ‘to the extent that’ that occurs too rarely to render quantifiable results, and the negative connective sókomû ‘without.’ Although Lingala loanwords are significant to codeswitching in drama; they are consistently absent in ten main genres. Lingala loanwords are used distinctively in eleven main genres while not distinguishing a single embedded genre. In comparison with the consistent use of Lingala in drama, most other genres in the main corpus exhibit a consistent absence of the form. Most correlations reflect a contrast between the default absence of Lingala words in Budu and its artificial frequency in code switching on the stage. In reported speech (and in actual speech alike) the use of Lingala words seems too incidental to distinguish any of the embedded genres.43 In the mini-corpus there is no single embedded-speech genre with consistent absence of Lingala loanwords, because there is no genre with dramatic use of the form either. This reflects the statistic aspects of the comparison rather than any major difference in language use between embedded and main genres. The exclamation of surprise that characterises the main genre of drama, is not particularly frequent in any of the embedded genres.

39 Determiners with topic shift are significant for cultural documentation while they lack consistently in drama. Determiners with topic shift –ômö ‘the/ that other one’ are used to structure longer texts. Determiners presuppose given information. While these forms are common in isolated statement made around the house in reference to familiar objects, they hardly occur in embedded genres. Possibly their use in longer stretches of text with less feed-back increases the ambiguity of the fragment involved. 40 Coordinative connectives (consistent for cultural documentation) and logic connectives (although they lack in ghost stories) are similar this respect that they are consistently absent from drama. Similarly affix –ëë, used in relative locative clauses, lacks in drama (while being consistent in ghost stories). 41 Adverbial morphemes are used only incidentally in embedded-speech genres. The introducer of comparisons banî ‘like; thus’ is consistent for cultural information, it consistently lacks in church songs. For instance insistence marker tá ‘just; nothing but; totally’ characterises church songs with its consistent absence. 42 Speech introducer GA (consistently used in trickster- and ghost stories, absent in five main genres) and infinitive akösigio ‘telling’ (consistently absent in drama) occur incidentally in the entire corpus of embedded-speech genres. 43 Young students in urban environments may use many Lingala expressions as sociolinguistic marker or their urban setting.

241 6.3 Conclusion about Conventional Language Use in Embedded Genres

Chapter 6 presented a refinement of the observations regarding the language use in the main genres, at the hand of four subsequent tables. The two main questions were whether the language use in the embedded speech determines the distinctions of the main genres and whether language use in the embedded genres is distinguished as a caricature of natural genres. The observations of the results of the embedded genres can be compared with the results in the main corpus, clarifying how reported speech fragments are distinguished from the main text of the embedding genres. In table 6.A all genre markers of the embedded genres were discussed. The marked embedded-speech genres apparently determine the observed frequencies of occurrence in some main genres. This can be observed with the markers of reproaches that determine the genre markers of trickster stories, and with markers of guarantees that also characterise church songs, with some markers of story songs that distinguish story genres too, while markers of agreements distinguish trickster- ghost and riddle stories, and finally markers of genealogical interviews characterise cultural documentation. Unlike other genres with reported speech, genealogies are introduced with only one embedding (opening) question each. The language use in the embedding is therefore almost identical to the language use in the main genre. The language use in embedded proverbs and in main proverbs is almost identical for the same reason. As shorter stretches of text, embedded genres have different characteristics than the natural language use which they are meant to represent. They contain for instance no adverbial temporal phrases and therefore need lexical future forms; no adverbial phrases to indicate a goal and therefore need additives in combination with short infinitives; no negating statements and therefore in disagreements a short Haa! ‘no!’ suffices; no tracking of participants and hence emphatic pronouns are needed for disambiguation in most embedded-speech genres (except for embedded proverbs); no elaborate ordering of events, requiring an adverbial clitic to express ordering, no elaborate descriptions and therefore adverbs are used (except in embedded genealogies); mere marking of recurrence instead of fully structured texts (except in embedded genealogies, which nevertheless exploit resumptive markers). In table 6.B forms were discussed, which distinguish between embedded genres. The comparison of fourteen genres seemed to be impacted by the inclusion of two rather autonomous genres, namely riddles and genealogy. These genres can be used with minimal embedding. However, even without these two rather autonomous genres, considerable contrasts were observed between genres representing long monologues and short verbal interchanges. Most distinctions in table 6.B can also be explained from correspondences embedded-speech genres with particular main genres. Again guarantees and the embedding church songs share distinctions, decrees and its embedding pact stories, story songs including mocking songs and their embedding ghost stories, and embedded work orders and proverbs share distinctions with main work orders and proverbs. It is noteworthy that the distribution of riddles and embedded riddles is not similar. Probably this is due to the widely varying nature of riddles. Furthermore resemblances between drama and disagreement or reproaches exist, and between mocking songs and party songs, while reversed order distinguishes several song types alike, including story songs. Dissimilarities between embedded genres and main genres can be explained by the need to structure autonomous texts, in contrast to embedded genres, which are, on the average, much shorter. The other goal of the research of the mini-corpus was to compare the particular features of embedded speech genres to each other. Table 6.B can be rearranged as a complementary distribution between embedded genres with elaborate (connective, not spontaneously produced) language use and embedded-speech genres with non-elaborate (non-connective, spontaneously produced) language use.

242 With six temporally-connective and six spontaneous production features co-occurring in this speech dimension, it includes directive features, forming a separate dimension that exists apart from the dimensions that distinguish language use in the main genres. The tables 6.C and 6.D display the forms that occur incidentally in the mini-corpus, without consistent use in any embedded-speech genre. Of course all forms introducing speech or demonstrations or descriptions are part of the main (embedding) text. Such forms are by their nature as framing devices insignificant for the embedded genres. One of the general observations regarding the language use in reported speech was that it intentionally represents natural speech in such a way that the audience can recognise the genre. The speech embeddings therefore seem shorter than natural speech, and contain less structuring features, even when they represent monologues. Furthermore the most salient features of language use seem to suffice to indicate a genre, as can be observed from forms that conventionally characterise embedded genres. Of all the forms that distinguish for instance reproaches, only about four seem to recur consistently as salient forms activating the intended frame. See appendix 6.A and B for an overview. Apparently these forms are apt to activate the genre of speech that the narrator intends to represent with the use of an embedded fragment. This is not without importance for the creative use of genre distinctions, since it gives evidence of a certain saliency of the forms.

Appendix 6.A: overview cluster distinguishing embedded speech

Positive members Negative members

Interrogative pronoun Locative adverb IPF PR 3 SG speech intro bö Quantifier Pronoun 1 PL less than 3 new words/clause Temporal connective Less 75% function words Temporal anaphora IPF PR 2 SG adv tîa interj oí ‘yes’ IPFFUT 1 PL CONSECUTIVE 2 SG Imperative PF 2 SG short infinitive IPF FUT 1 SG Verbal negation Reversed order Zero % reported speech

243

Appendix 6.B: genre markers and distinctive features of embedded genres

Reproaches (in Trickster stories): Modal Auxiliaries; exclamation Húú?! ‘what?!’; NO interrogative PRON; PF 2 SG

Warning: adverbial negation; NO quantifiers;

Request: lexical future

Thoughts in Parables and other Pulpit speech: FUTIPF 1 SG; NO Vocative; NO PRON 2 SG; Interrogative PRON; Adverbial Mitigation; IPF 1+ 3 SG

Decrees in Pact stories: Pronouns 2 SG; NO Quantifiers; NO short infinitives

Guarantees in church songs: Pronoun 2 PL;Oath Vocatives; NO Swahili loanwords; NO PF 3; NO interrog PRON.

Disagreement: Interjection: Haa !’no;’NO locative adv; adv. Exhortation;

Agreements in Drama: Reversed constituent order; interrogative pronouns; Imperfect present 2 SG; Lexical Past (although drama has not the remote, but the recent past form) NO locative adverbials; NO ideophones and

Disagreements in Drama: Adverbial exhortation; NO locative adverbials

Story songs in stories: interjection ináa we!; pron 3 SG; additive; vocatives; NO PF 3 PL; reversed order pact-; animal-stories: Perfect 3 SG ghost stories: Perfect 3 SG; Ideophones and Vocatives. trickster stories Perfect 3 SG; Additives

Agreements: IPF present 2 SG; auxiliaries; lexical remote past; interrogative PRON; IPF FUT 1 PL; interjection oí ‘yes’; NO PF 3 PL; NO ideophone; NO oath vocative.

Work orders: Consecutive 2 SG without prefix; Imperative; NO PF 3PL;

Genealogical interview and cultural documentation: resumptive marker; Locative adverbials; Temporal connectives; Temporal anaphora; adverbial clitic tîa; adverbial clitic tîakû; PF 1/3 PF 3 SG; pronoun 1/3 PL; speech intro; Relative Clauses with affix –öö and the consecutive prefix; Swahili loanwords; No recurrency marker kû; NO (oath) vocatives; NO 2 SG pronouns; NO interrogative pronouns; NO ideophones; NO FUT IPF 1SG/PL; NO Present IPF 3 SG; NO Present IPF 2SG; NO PF 2 SG; NO Consecutive 2 SG without prefix; NO imperatives; NO Object Prefix; NO optatives and NO past participles; NO Hab 3 SG; NO adverbs; NO verbal negation; NO mitigation/exhortation; NO interjection oí ‘yes;’ NO reversed order; NO Imperative

Proverbs and quoted proverbs/sayings Quantifiers; Associative markers, attributive adjectives; Verb Negation; Short infinitives; NO Locative Anaphora; NO idiomatic expression; NO determiner; NO Perfect three plural; NO Temporal connectives; NO Temporal anaphora; NO adverbial clitic tîa; NO speech introducers; NO Interrogative PRON; NO PRON 1 PL; NO Adverbial Mitigation;

Riddles and embedded riddles: French loanwords (section titles in riddle booklet); quantifiers; 0% reported speech.

244 Chapter 7. Six Main Parameters of Language Use

“Each culture will deploy its own correlations between genre category, event category and the myriad purposes to which speech can be put.” Graham Furniss (2003:74) 7.0 Introduction

Six main parameters of language use can be observed in Budu. These parameters are not postulated a priori, they follow from an analysis of observed clusters of co-occurrence in the researched corpus as described in chapter 5, where clusters of distinctive forms were related to various dimensions of communication, such as community involvement (the fourth dimension) and careful versus spontaneous production (the fifth dimension). Clusters of co-occurring forms can be considered as verbal manifestations of communicative situations. By their predictable distribution they therefore reflect these situations, or at least those aspects of situations that matter in Budu communication, apparently determining parameters of language use. This elaborate chapter with its multiple text excerpts discusses differences and similarities among the genres in the researched corpus. In some cases sentences have been omitted from a fragment to provide the most illustrative phrases as indicated in the numbering. The illustrations in this chapter concern conventional language use, while creative language use is discussed in the following chapter. In the present chapter conventional language use is described by means of six parameters. In the first half of this chapter (section 7.2) parameters are discussed one by one, while the second half (section 7.3) describes language use in each of the sixteen main genres, summarising conclusions to the first half. A first step to the functional interpretation of co-occurrences was presented in chapter 5, by means of co-occurring forms. Some forms have, on top of their inherent meaning, a culturally specific function that emerges in co-occurrences. The function that is most widely shared by a cluster’s forms indicates its distinctive function.1 Following from this first step in the functional interpretation of clusters, the two sets of genres that are distinguished by a cluster may, because of the nature of their contrast, also shed light on the distinctive function of a cluster. In the approach proposed by Biber the functional interpretation of the main dimensions of language use includes an analysis of “the similarities and differences among the genres with respect to the dimensions,” (Biber, Conrad & Reppen 1999:149). This analysis is a combination of a contrastive analysis of the two sets of genres and a comparison of the genres in one set. This investigation of the sets of genres that a cluster distinguishes forms the second step in its functional interpretation. The present chapter presents this second step of the functional interpretation of co-occurrences for each cluster.

1For example: “Stereotypical interactive discourse universally entails the physical circumstances of a specific addressor and specific addressee(s) sharing the same space and time,” (Biber 1995:259). The Budu dimension with most interaction has second person forms in co-occurrences with adverbial clitics for expressing mitigation and exhortation. These universal expressions of directive language use co-occur with certain exclamations. Their culturally specific function emerges as directive. In conclusion the role of expressions of interaction is apparently related to directive communication in Budu, while certain exclamations form its culturally specific expression. This concerns the first step in the functional interpretation of the co-occurrence of distinctions of directive language use in Budu.

245 Each cluster of co-occurring forms manifests a contrast between two extreme ends of a continuum, as displayed in the tables in chapter 5. A cluster is most prominent in the few genres that represent the continuum’s extreme ends. Genres with most positive manifestations of the cluster represent one extreme end, while genres with most negative manifestations represent the other extreme. All other genres, ranging from the most prominent manifestation of a dimension to the opposite extreme, form a continuum of distinguished language use varying between these contrasting extremes. Some genres manifest a particular dimension of communication to a considerable extent, while other genres only exhibit minimal expression of that same communicative aspect. This sliding scale of genres as expressions of a particular dimension could be observed from the top row of each table in chapter 5, where a specific aspect of communication was expressed negatively in the leftmost column and expressed positively in the rightmost column, with a wide range of variation in between.

7.1.1. General Remarks about Communicative Dimensions of Variation

Table 7.1 repeats the top rows of table 5 with the difference that each row is now displayed as a column, while the tables are denoting the same dimensions. In this chapter each dimension of variation is interpreted as a parameter of language use; bold print in table 7.1 indicating which genres are illustrated with text excerpts. Genres denoted in one cell exhibit the same amount of distinctions, for example in the first column animal stories and riddles both have one distinction for the temporally- connective presentation of events and therefore are denoted in the same cell. See table 7.2 for the exact amount of distinctions for each genre. The empty row halfway table 7.1 indicates the division line between distinguished and undistinguished genres.2 Each column denotes a continuum of distinguished genres, of which the corresponding parameter will be discussed in a separate section of this chapter. The column concerned will be repeated as separate table in these sections, as indicated at the bottom of table 7.1:

2 Every genre is distinguished for at least five parameters, except for party songs that exhibit no distinctions of production; and except for trickster stories and party songs that are not distinguished for the performative use of language. Parables exhibit no significant use of the distinctions of community involvement. Excerpts of party songs and parables are provided as illustrations of the dimension that they most clearly illustrate (for an overview that displays this difference between the parameters see table 7.9).

246 Table 7.1 parameter-presentation of six dimensions of variation (bold print for genres with text excerpts)

^ Temporally- Explicit Directive Community- Spontaneous Performative ^ I Connective Expression of Communic- involved Production Language Use I I Presentation of Information ation Appeal expression I I Events I I cultural cultural drama church songs I I documentation documentation I I pact stories medical church songs ghost stories ghost stories; church I I information medical songs I I information I I trickster stories; life stories; party songs animal stories; trickster stories circumcision I I ghost stories; proverbs trickster stories songs I I life stories circumcision I I songs; individual I I songs; party songs I I animal stories riddles trickster stories; pact stories work orders; animal stories; I I ghost stories; riddles; life stories I I individual songs; pact stories I I work orders I I riddles riddles; parables & pulpit animal stories parables& I I circumcision speech pulpit speech; I I songs; individual I I parables & pulpit songs I I work speech party songs ghost stories; I I orders party songs I I I I parables& other pact stories animal stories; life stories; individual riddles; I I pulpit speech proverbs work orders; songs; proverbs; I I proverbs; parables& trickster stories; I I riddles pulpit; I I circumcision I I songs I I circumcision circumcision medical information proverbs; work orders I I songs songs; individual life stories I I I songs; animal I stories I I individual songs ghost stories; pact stories drama church songs; pact stories; I I trickster cultural medical info I I stories; document- I I parables & pulpit ation I I speech I I I work orders; party songs medical cultural drama I I party songs information documentation I I

I I medical church songs life stories drama cultural I I information documentation I I proverbs drama cultural I I documentation I I I church songs I I drama I I Non-temporally- Implicit Non-Directive Expression No Non- I I connective Expression of Communic- without Spontaneous Performative I V Presentation Information ation Community production Language Use V Of Events Involvement

See table 7.2A See table 7.3A See table 7.4A See table 7.5A See table 7.6A See table 7.7A

247 The similarities and differences among the genres will be analysed with respect to the six dimensions in Budu language use. To analyse similarities, the distinguished language use is presented as a continuum of variation for each parameter in the A- tables. To discuss differences among genres, the contrasting sets of distinguished genres will be presented for each parameter in the B-tables. Continua are represented in each column in table 7.1 with the scale of language use, varying from genres with, for instance, highly temporally-connective presentation to genres without any temporally-connective presentation exhibiting loosely structured isolated statements such as proverbs. This example applies to the first dimension. This scale of variation in the first dimension will be discussed as a continuum of distinguished language use. Contrasts are represented in the upper and lower half of table 7.1, representing contrasting sets of genres that are distinguished for a dimension. Each dimension has two groupings of genres: a positively distinguished set and a negatively distinguished set. These contrasting sets will be discussed. Continua are considered to investigate shared characteristics of genres, contrasts to analyse their differences. These two aspects of the analysis contribute to the postulation of parameters of language use, as a result of the functional interpretation of six clusters of co-occurrences. Whereas former chapters concerned the forms in these clusters, this chapter concerns the distinguished genres.

7.1.2 The Variables

The first step towards a ‘parameter presentation’ of the various dimensions of communication consists of a generalisation, in which positive and negative distinctions are seen alike. If all co-occurring forms are considered as distinctions they can be described as variables of one parameter, as I will now attempt to explain. Clusters of co-occurrence consist of positive and negative members. These are the forms in the top and lower half of tables 5.A-F respectively. The more consistently used forms a genre displays, the more characteristic it is for a dimension. In their distinction, it did not matter whether distinctive members consistently occurred or remained absent, as long as they shared the same distribution with other genres in one set. Whether a form is denoted in the top half or in the lower half of a table, they all contribute to the same distinction. Members of a cluster are described as variables of one single parameter, without regard to their negative or positive contribution to a parameter. The notion of variables is used to enable calculations of the sum total of distinctions represented in a genre. If distinctions are considered as variables, it becomes possible to determine the extent to which a genre manifests a certain dimension in relation to the amount of variables occurring in it. The ranging of genres from the most overt manifestation of a dimension to the most overt negative manifestation results in a continuum corresponding to a parameter presentation, as the A tables in this chapter show.

7.2 Parameters of Budu Language Use

Parameters correspond to the distribution of observed clusters of co-occurrence as described in chapter 5. The language use in a single text may be determined by multiple parameters at the same time, as clarified in the text excerpts. Some genres foremost reflect dimension six, being manifest in attempts to perform speech acts (circumcision songs). Other genres clearly reflect several dimensions of communication; for instance ghost stories that, because of their temporally-connective presentation of events, reflect the first dimension next to the fourth dimension by their involvement of the community and the fifth dimension by

248 their redundant language use. Each dimension represents a contrast in communication that matters in Budu society; or it matters at least enough to be expressed in language. Genres with a maximum amount of variables represent extreme ends of the corresponding dimensions of communication and can be considered as the most obvious expressions of the underlying parameters of language use. In the text excerpts these genres tend to be selected to illustrate the contrasts in language use distinguished by clusters. In order to maintain an overview of the relation between the six dimensions and the sixteen genres of the main corpus, table 7.2 is commented on. It provides a general idea of the extent to which particular genres display distinguished language use in relative sense. The following overview of the total of positive distinctions and negative distinctions repeats each last row of tables 5.A-F. Consider the first column of table 7.2. The genres with most distinctions form the extreme ends of a dimension that are printed in bold:

Table 7.2 six main dimensions of variation and total amount of significant correlations per genre in each

Genre/dimension Dim Dim Dim Dim Dim Dim (number of features) I II III IV V VI (24) (21) (20) (15) (14) (10) Pact story 5 -1 -4 1 3 -2 Parable -1 -3 1 - -1 2 Party song -5 -5 5 3 - - Individual song -4 -2 2 -3 -1 1 Circumcision song -3 -2 1 -3 -1 3 Drama -17 -12 12 -8 -7 -4 Work order -5 1 2 -2 3 -1 Animal story 2 -2 -1 3 2 2 Ghost story 4 -3 2 4 5 1 Trickster story 4 -3 2 3 4 - Life story 4 4 -8 -2 -2 2 Cultural doc. 14 15 -12 -8 -4 -5 Proverbs -8 4 -1 -2 -2 -1 Riddles 1 3 1 -2 -3 -1 Medical information -6 9 -6 -6 6 -2 Church songs -12 -8 7 7 -6 7

Pact stories have 5 significantly used connective forms, as the corresponding cell indicates. The remaining 19 forms are used indiscriminately in pact stories. The arbitrarily used forms were indicated by hyphens in table 5.A (since there are 24 features of the first dimension, 24 subtracted with 5 equals 19). The total amount of features in each dimension is indicated in the top row (between brackets). Considering the distinctions in bold print, cultural documentation, church songs and drama seem to be the most distinguished genres. Several explanations for the amount of distinctions in these three genres seem worth considering at the beginning of this chapter with its functional interpretation of the genres, where their occurrence could be misinterpreted otherwise. First, some linguistic forms, such as cohesive devices, because of their multifunctional nature, occur as distinctions of the three mentioned genres in three different dimensions. This distribution is not in the first place generated by the sample size, as a comparison with, for instance, column V in table 7.2 with ghost stories and medical information shows. The latter two genres have most distinctions for the fifth dimension while not representing the longest texts. Rather, the similarity between the columns I and II seems related to the distinctive function of cohesive devices in both the first and in the second dimension. Explicit communication implies the use of cohesive devices, similar to a temporally-

249 connective presentation.3 The mulitfunctionality of some forms results in the high frequencies of this kind of distinction in multiple dimensions. Second, some genres exhibit special properties, such as drama, church songs and cultural information, resulting in their abundance of distinctions. Drama is a very open genre, which portrays its participants on the stage by using various caricature speech genres. The genre consequently represents a large amount of significant occurrences, as it not only changes genre, almost with every change of speaker, but also dramatically exaggerates ‘normal’ language use in the caricature presentations of participants and their speech (including its frequencies). Of a rather different nature are the high amounts of significant occurrences observed in church songs and in cultural documentation. These genres are characterised by their manifold repetitions resulting in higher frequencies of repeated forms. The repetitions in the choruses of church songs and the use of repetitious lists in genealogies embedded in cultural documentation result in the manifold tagging of some forms with corresponding high frequencies of occurrence being observed for these two genres. For example, songs with invitations to join the church service contain many imperatives and vocatives because the choruses contain manifold repetitions of its most important message. Since this effect on the observed results reflects an important property of the genre,4 no attempt was made to polish it away with statistical measures. In comparison to other genres church songs and genealogies contain a rather repetitious use of linguistic elements. Bearing the reasons for abundance in the distinction of church songs, drama and cultural documentation in mind, we can now start to consider the functional interpretation of the contrast represented in each dimension, as will be explained now.

7.2.1 Temporally-Connective vs. Non-Temporally-Connective Presentation of Events

7.2.1.0 Further Interpretation of the First Dimension of Variation in Budu

In this section the continuum of language distinguished for the first dimension is discussed and the contrast between the distinguished sets of genres is analysed. The main distinction observed in the researched corpus exists between temporally-connective genres and the opposite language use. The distinction was interpreted as reflecting this contrast because its co-occurring forms mainly express chronological ordering. Chronological ordering results from co-occurrences with temporal connectives and temporal anaphora (see chapter 5). In chapter 5 the functional interpretation of the co-occurring forms led to the conclusion that the main dimension in Budu is determined by the contrast between genres that reflect a focus on a temporally-connective presentation and genres without focus on such presentation. The main contrast observed in the researched corpus is between temporally-connective and non-temporally-connective genres. It is the main contrast since the distinctions concern the largest

3In contrast, a temporally-connective presentation does not necessarily imply explicit communication. Furthermore the use of cohesive devices seems to represent a focus on the content of a text. This focus is present in both temporally-connective and in explicit texts. It is expressed by forms that, by their relation to the content, exclude situated references to the hearer (second person forms) or speaker (first person forms). It is therefore not surprising that several distinctions of directive language (the third dimension) automatically occur as negative distinctions of the first two dimensions. The third dimension expresses a focus on the context of production in which hearer and addressee are mentioned, whereas the multifunctionality of these context-related references causes them to be absent in texts with a focus on the content (expressed by textual instead of situational references). 4This is important in relation to the saliency of their genre features.

250 observed cluster; consisting of 24 co-occurring forms. Sixteen forms share a predictable presence in one set of genres and a predictable absence in another set of genres. A different eight forms distinguish the same sets of genres by their complementary distribution in the opposite direction: these eight are absent in genres distinguished for temporally-connective presentation and present in genres distinguished for non-temporally-connective presentation. To enable generalisations about the 24 forms with shared distribution over the same sets of genres, positive members and negative members alike are considered as temporally-connective ‘features’. Both function as distinctions because of the significance of their occurrence, whether this is negative or positive (see table 5.AA). Therefore both types of features are considered to be variables of the parameter of temporally-connective presentation. Positively distinguished genres exhibit a significant use of between 1 and 14 forms of this cluster. That is slightly over half of all possible features that distinguish a temporally-connective presentation of events in general. The other distinctions occur arbitrarily in the genres. In total there are twenty four. These are included in the complementary distribution since their occurrence does not contradict it, making the distribution predictable in this respect. 5 In conclusion, table 5.A denoting this dimension is not only an overview of two sets of genres that are distinguished by a cluster of co-occurring forms; it also is an overview of the extent to which distinctions are used in particular genres. Features that occur significantly form significantly used variables that enable the postulation of a continuum of genres increasingly distinguished for temporally- connective presentation, as will now be explained.

7.2.1.1 The Continuum of Temporally-Connective Presentation

The top row of table 5.A in fact presented a continuum. This gliding scale of distinguished genres reflects the narrator’s presentation of events. In the various genres at the right-hand side, the increasing number of significant variables of a temporally- connective presentation was observed (as presented in the chapters 5 and 6 regarding research results). The left-hand side of table 5.A was increasingly un- connected. This same scale is repeated vertically as table 7.2A. Based on the 84 significant occurrences in the first dimension,6 a parameter of concern for temporally-connective presentation can be established. It refines the distinction of temporally-connective versus non-connective presentations. A parameter-presentation of the contrasted genres removes the possible impression that a simple binary opposition exists between genres distinguished for temporally-connective presentation and genres distinguished for non-temporally-connective presentation. In actual language use genres are distinguished as more or less connective or as more or less non-connective, as table 7.2A shows:

5They are relatively predictable in the sense that positive members (cf. in the top half of table 5.A) can never be excluded (while the negative members in the lower can not be predicted). In the non-temporally-connective presentation the absence of any positive member of the cluster can not be predicted in any genre. Negative members can not be excluded from occurring in the same set of genres. Instead of the term of ‘relative predictability’ I prefer to use the term ‘arbitrary’ (in contrast to significant) use. Between 23 and 12 forms are used arbitrarily in the first dimension. In riddles 23 forms occur arbitrarily: they may or may not occur. In drama only forms are used indistinctively. 6The cells without hyphens in table 5.A represent the 84 absolutely significant occurrences of this dimension.

251 Table 7.2A continuum of a temporally-connective presentation of events (cf. column I of table 7.2)

14 variables are significant in: cultural documentation chronologically structured text 5 pact stories ∧ 4 life stories; ghost stories; trickster stories | 2 animal stories | 1 riddles | | 1 variable significant parables& other pulpit speech | in reverse sense in: I 3 circumcision songs | 4 individual songs I 5 work orders; party songs | 6 medical information ∨ 8 proverbs non-chronologically structured 12 church songs text 17 drama

The more variables that occur in a genre, the more connective the presentation in that genre seems to be. The more variables that occur in reverse sense, the more that genre reflects the absence of any concern for temporally-connective presentation. The distinction connective/non-connective only refers to the explicit verbal expression of chronological ordering and not to inherent or underlying semantic properties of texts. A contrastive analysis of genres ranging from dialogues in drama to chronologically structured narratives in cultural documentation forms the basis for this functional interpretation. In relation to other story genres animal stories seem to represent the least temporally- connective presentation, although, unlike riddles they still represent storytelling. While riddles may contain short stories, most riddles nevertheless contain the exchanges of a few isolated statements, determining the observed distinctions of its language as ‘non-temporally-connective’. In contrast, animal stories seem chronologically ordered, as do other Budu story genres. Their structure is expressed with parallel constructions and other linguistic means that do not belong to the category of conventional distinctions of chronological structure. Only the absence of first person Imperfect forms and consistent use of the speech introducer is characteristic for animal stories. With two distinctions, the cluster is used rather indiscriminately for this parameter. Animal stories are, as a bed-time story genre, distinguished for involvement and for performative speech.7 Their indiscriminate character for ‘temporally-connective presentation’ clarifies that genre distinctions are not determined a priori. To an outsider animal stories might seem to represent communication that is similar to other story genres. In Budu the genre nevertheless seems distinctively different, because of its consistent use of co-occurring linguistic elements reflecting group involvement and performative language. The language speaks for itself, providing insider’s information concerning contrasts that apparently matter enough to be manifest in conventional patterns of language use. Another observation regarding table 7.2A is that church songs are more un-connective than most other song genres. Party songs, individual songs and circumcision songs represent more probability for features of temporally-connective presentation to occur arbitrarily. Work orders, because of the ordering of procedures in this genre, may exhibit an arbitrary use of some connective forms. Their structure depends on other forms, such as the exhortative particle -s ‘first,’ and, as was already mentioned in chapter 6 an alternation of Consecutive and Imperative forms. Work orders are not very distinct with respect to temporally-connective presentation. Their structure depends on other forms, where their use replaces the need for temporally-connective distinctions.

7The distinctively community-involved nature of animal stories was mentioned in 5.2.4.2 already.

252 Pact stories represent the most significant variables of all story genres. This is due to the extensive repetition that characterises this genre, exhibiting cycles that are comparable to the choruses of nursery rhymes in European languages. Most forms that characterise temporally-connective presentation are absent in drama.

7.2.1.2 Excerpt with Non-Temporally-Connective Presentation of Events in Drama8

The section with text excerpts starts with the most extreme example of non-connective language use. The following fragment illustrates the importance of the context in some pieces of drama. Because information from the context provides a certain structure, the language use in drama can be rather un-connective. Textual coherence is not in itself required for understanding the sequence of individual statements. Some stage remarks in the script explain information that normally is merely acted out on the stage. The following passage of a play was selected because it contains three such stage remarks. Consider the following, extremely loosely structured passage of a play about a pastor’s son called Ambinomachwei and his brother Asete. He wakes up in his parents’ house during an early morning meeting of his father’s parishioners in the living room. The stage remarks are printed in bold in the following excerpt:

(Ba-klisito a-nsa, AMBNMACHWEI -chwana ta) CL-Christians INF.to-go Ambinomachwei CONS.3SG-get. out now (1. As the Christians leave the house, Ambinomachwei gets out of his room),

AMBNMACHWEI: -kyp-e na-bi tá a-nmwa! Ambinomachwei: CL-wine-OH IPF.1SG-be just to.INF -drink 2. Ambinomachwei: Oh wine, I will just drink!

(-pana ta ba-many n kpngb) CONS.3SG-show now CL-others with finger 3. (He points at the others with his finger)

n ba-kobhaye ng-ba, n ba-nama ng-ba, You (PL) CL-guinea.pigs DET-REL you (PL) CL-animals DET-REL 4. You there, guinea pigs, you there, animals!

an a-ka súo n()-m a-hata aka. who IPF.3SG-do FUT ADD-me to.INF–search here 5. Who was looking for me here?

(-naá pastl a-bio ta k o-pecho-k-eni ma-dyo.) CL- Mrs. pastor PF.3SG-be now also 3SG.scoop.out-REP-GERUND CL-food 6. (The pastors’ wife is now scooping out the food).

AST: Bon appetit! Asete : Bon appetit ! 7. Asete : (in French) Bon appetit !

8 Drama is a relatively new genre, which is on the rise since the introduction of radio broadcasting in Congo. This excerpt is from a play by Willy Bambinesenge and it was performed in 1998 near the market of Ibambi.

253 -NAA PASTL:Bon a-vieux! CL-lady pastor Bon to- the.elderly! 8. The pastor’s wife: Blessings to the elderly !

The fragment is selected although the amount of stage remarks in this passage is extremely high. The average is one stage remark in each scene in the script of the play. The excerpt nevertheless illustrates the importance of the stage in drama. 9Unlike most other passages, this passage has implicit information expressed by stage remarks that occur between brackets. The scene describes the pastors’ son who wakes up in his room. The stage remark in line 1 indicates that he is about to leave his room, which only happens in line 6. Several implicit indications of the order of events can be observed. Since the son calls for wine in line 2, he apparently suffers from a hang-over as the rest of the play indeed clarifies. This is an implicit reference to his consumption of alcohol the day before. In line 4 guinea pigs are mentioned in the bedroom. In Budu households these domesticated animals walk around freely in the bedrooms. An increasing awareness of guinea pigs in the early morning is, for most Budu speakers, a familiar experience related to waking up. In contrast, the reference to guinea pigs seems incoherent for non-Budu readers or listeners, as it depends on a shared knowledge of the context. Another incomprehensible loose statement is the bon appetit ‘enjoy your meal;’ uttered after the scooping out of the food. Without information from the context (that the family breakfast is served), some (especially those familiar with the raising of guinea pigs) might understand by inference that the guinea pigs are referred to as possible food (in a joke perhaps). Guinea pigs were mentioned just before the bon appetit was expressed.10 The family breakfast in the script is indicated with loosely structured verbal exchanges. It only implicitly refers to its occurrence in the morning after a late drinking party. This drama excerpt illustrates the important role of the context of production in language use without textual structuring by temporal connectives. Many assumptions about the relation between various elements in the interaction are left implicit. The excerpt also illustrates that non-connective language may nevertheless be used to indicate a sequence of actions. In the passage above somebody wakes up after the departure of some visitors and he discovers that the breakfast of his family will be served in a moment. In such familiar situations with conventional representation of some structure in the form of a protocol or script the link between the events is not necessarily expressed verbally. Some genres depend on the context of production for their text structure, and not on temporally-connective indications.

7.2.1.3 Contrastive Analysis of the Two Distinguished Sets of Genres

In chapter 5 the connective cluster was interpreted as the verbal expression of chronological ordering. This interpretation was based on the shared properties of individual connective forms. To further

9Also the high amount of nouns that occur as names of the players in drama can be observed here. In the actual speech uttered on the stage, these nouns, which were tagged as polite vocatives (see section 3.4.5.2). The result of this can be observed in table 5. If stage remarks and names of players would not be included in the tagging of drama, polite vocatives would function as distinction of performative language use (and drama would, in that case, be distinguished as non-performative use of language). 10The reaction of the mother with Bon avieux! ‘Blessings to the elderly’ can only be understood from the perspective of a society where elderly persons are honoured and young relatives addressed with petit(e) young one (female with additional e in French). This utterance during a family meal, where generations with different educational background interact, is used in a completely different sense from its French origin here. The minimal exposure of the mother to French education results in a reinterpretation of the polite ‘enjoy your meal’ as if it was meant in an impolite way saying ‘bon à petit’ ‘blessings to the younger one’ in addressing the mother. The mother may have heard such expressions used by elder relatives addressing the younger. The word game represents a typical student joke, as students, who are daily exposed to French in school, are frequently considered impolite.

254 investigate this contrast of presentation, properties of the sets of distinguished genres are considered now in a contrastive analysis. It is meant to verify the hypothesis that genres with temporally-connective presentation of events are represented by genres with verbal expression of chronological structuring and vice versa. As a point of departure the following contrast, with stories in italics and songs in grey, is given:

Table 7.2B the sets of genres contrasted by connective features

Genres distinguished for non-temporally-connective vs. genres distinguished for temporally-connective presentation presentation Drama Cultural information and Genealogies Church songs Proverbs Trickster stories Medical information Pact stories Work orders (travel instructions; recipes; advice) Ghost stories Party songs (wedding songs; dance songs; drinking songs) Life stories and other reported personal experiences Individual songs (mourning songs; lullabies) Animal stories about blood-brother friendships Circumcision songs Riddles and small stories re. facts of nature Parables and other speech from the pulpit (prayers; blessings)

Two sets of distinguished genres are contrasted by the predictable use of the cluster of connective features, implying that Budu speakers mark them with this consistent language use. This reflects a common function in communication, which is further investigated with a contrastive analysis. Similarities between genres in the left column are interpreted before similarities in the right column. After their interpretation, eventual differences among the genres within one column are discussed. It was observed in chapter 5 that genres distinguished for temporally-connective presentation exploit the largest cluster of cohesive devices. In contrast, genres distinguished for non-temporally- connective presentation on the lefthand side of table 7.2B seem to have in common that information is presented in ‘isolated’ statements without explicit structuring. Most genres distinguished for non- temporally-connective presentation lack (verbally expressed) cohesion between the sequences or statements. For instance in songs, statements and pledges are uttered in a sequence of loose statements that is comparable to ‘blessings and prayers’ in the genre of parables & other pulpit speech. The relation between those single statements can only be derived from a structure provided by the context of production. This contextual structure is not inherent to the text, but external, consisting of music or rhythm as in the following (shortest) song of the church song book, the performance of which may take an hour:11

I-nj-éni Mungu a-pp, i-nj–éni! OPT.-give-PL God (SW) CL-gift OPT-give-PL Let’s give God a gift, let’s give it !

Another example is the non-connective genre of work orders, a genre which literally is indicated with the phrase: ‘to show the work ’ pananaka ta. Work orders always include a live demonstration of the described actions, while involved objects are pointed out in the immediate context of production shared

11The length of this song is not representative for church songs. Most church songs contain at least twenty clauses. This song is used during the offering that takes place in the Sunday morning church service and lasts as long as the dancing session, that accompanies the singing, takes. This dancing occurs while all church attendants dance to the offering basket in front of the church (first all females, then all males). I have attended church services where the song lasted more than an hour. The liturgical deposition of money in the basket gave structure to the much repeated line of this song. For more representative church songs, see the excerpt in section 7.2.4.4.

255 by speaker and addressee. In the following introductory line of a text about two tools, these objects are underlined:12

Na-ky-pan-a ba-ná k ta, ng-y m na-yo. IPF.1SG-HAB-show-APPL CL-children too work. DET-REL me IPF.1SG.know Me too, I am teaching my children the kind of work I know myself.

Na-yo ta y- m-panga n ta y– gta. IPF.1SG.know work CL–of CL-knife and work CL-of hoe I know the work with the knife and (I know) the work with the rounded hoe.

The following sections of the work order treat the knife and the rounded hoe. The text therefore is structured with objects being indicated by the speaker during her presentation of the text.

7.2.1.4 Excerpts with Non-Temporally-Connective Language Use in Proverbs

Another genre that typically lacks temporally-connective distinctions is proverbs. Consider for example the following proverbs that are extremely obscure without cultural knowledge:

B-t b-tà-b-ja ba-mb-janga km -ya. CL-tree CL-ADI-CL –big CL.IPF–IRR.NEG-lack not CL-hole 1. A tall tree could not fail to have a hole. (Nobody is perfect).

-knd yi-tà-i-dó ya-mb-gbal-ia km ak i-ngugu. CL-hand CL-ADI-CL- good CL.IPF-NEG-wait-APL NEG at CL-cheek 2. A good hand would not wait at the cheek. (Strike while the iron is hot).

The first proverb contains a metaphorical reference to persons. The metaphorical reference is obvious to farmers in the rainforest, because they regularly clear new fields with enormous trees. They are used to the strong appearance of tall trees, which nevertheless tend to exhibit weak spots once they are torn down. The metaphorical use of ya ’hole’ to refer to a weaknesses in character is more easily understood (cf. ‘nobody is perfect’) than the indirect reference in the second proverb. The second proverb refers to a fishing method. Fishing is a female activity that may entail several techniques. The method referred to in this proverb includes a hollow tree trunk used as a fishing trap exposing bait. Fishing women access the trap with their hands from above the water surface, through an opening in the top of the trunk. Standing above the trap, a fishing woman can observe whether fishes are attracted to the bait. She needs to grab the fish immediately while inside the trap, for once the place has exposed its risks, fishes are not likely to swim into it again. It consequently is useless to wait any more. Therefore ‘good’ hands do not waste the opportunity. In English the saying ‘Strike while the iron is hot’ is used for similar occasions. As with most metaphorical references, the references in proverbs express no direct relation to the ongoing discourse. Any comments about the social situations under discussion are implied and never expressed verbally. They can be understood only if the cultural implications are known to the addressee. Proverbs typically are void of temporally-connective language use and by nature represent isolated utterances, as both examples illustrate.

12The fragment was uttered by Mrs.Bafamutoyi-Yakayang.

256 Drama is another genre where cohesion between the events is not expressed, as was illustrated in 7.2.1.2.The relation between the utterances of the actors is made visible in the scenic presentation including attributes and the décor (a table, food that is scooped out etc). In conlusion, the coherence between statements in negatively distinguished genres seems to depend entirely on non-verbal clues from the context. This context provides structure to the sequence of statements that are uttered with a conventional use of protocol, liturgy, or other predictable non-verbal communication through music, rhythm or rituals. While the cohesion between events in genres distinguished for temporally-connective presentation tends to be expressed verbally, coherence between statements in genres distinguished for non-temporally-connective presentation tends to depend on non-verbal clues. However, three exceptional negatively distinguished genres do exhibit lexical or topical coherence. This is represented by semantical structuring for medical information, work orders, parables & other pulpit speech, which is not expressed by connectives or other temporally-connective distinctions. The topical coherence in this subgroup of genres follows from their explicit nature,13 as they exhibit language that is used to focus on the content of the text. Unlike other negatively distinguished genres these three express no focus on the addressee or on other exponents of the context of production. They lack situated references such as a significant use of first and second person forms, while exploiting a significant use of distinctions of explicit information, such as quantifiers and adjectives describing the qualities, as will be discussed under the section on the parameter of information. Concluding the observations about the genres in the left column, negatively distinguished genres seem to represent texts without verbal chronological structuring to connect events. They derive textual structuring from other things rather than from verbal expressions of the order of events, for example from external factors in the context of production or from semantic structures related to information concerning the text topic. Considering the genres on the righthand side of table 7.2B, a contrast with negatively distinguished genres can be assumed.14 In this contrast, most genres distinguished for temporally- connective presentation supposedly lack a focus on the context of production or on the content. Since most genres concern stories, it is worth noting that the audience is indeed familiar with the content of most stories in the researched corpus. Storytellers bring no new information. In chapter 5 seven story genres were observed to be negatively distinguished for the second dimension, implying that they consistently lack explicit descriptions with gerund constructions and adverbials, adverbs and verbal negation. For their cohesion these story genres do not depend on explicit information, they are primarily structured by means of chronological ordering. The story genres in the right column represent well- known stories, which are told because of their presentation of events rather than because of their content. Not even the context of storytelling sessions appears to be significant, because no auto- references are made to the narrator or to the audience. This even applies to embedded story songs. Budu storytelling therefore seems in the first place concerned with the presentation of events, or, in other words: with the form of the text. In chapter 6 the cluster of connective distinctions was interpreted. The contrastive analysis of the sets of distinguished genres enables a more comprehensive understanding of the function of these forms. Story-tellers apparently focus on a presentation that links events and actions together in the most entertaining, dramatic, educative or otherwise enlightening and artful chain of skilfully used words. They build up dramatic tension by using special forms to focus on processes. The continuum of genres

13The contrast between explicit genres and narrative genres in Budu seems comparable to the contrast between involved and informational genres in English (see Biber 1988 about the first dimension of English variation). However, in Budu the main cluster of co-occurrence reflects a less straightforward contrast than the involved- informational contrast in English (the main distinction in that language). Several explicit genres in Budu are chronologically structured (cultural documentation and life stories with specific time references, so these two genres are not merely thematically ordered). 14This can be concluded on the basis of the complementary distribution of the corresponding cluster of co- occurrence that justifies this assumption.

257 distinguished for temporally-connective presentation reflects an increasing concern for temporally- connective presentation of events. A contrastive analysis between the two groups of genres clarifies this concern for form that seems to exist in contrast to the absence of this concern in negatively distinguished genres, where a structuring context provides cultural clues or a topical structuring of semantic coherence.

7.2.1.5 Differences among Genres within One Set

As a second step after this contrastive analysis, a comparison among the genres within one column offers further insights in the distinguished language use. Genres distinguished for temporally-connective presentation in the right column differ greatly among each other, although most concern story genres. Their main difference consists of the length of the average text in each genre. In comparison to other story genres story riddles are short. Their short and simple format facilitates memorisation. Ghost- or trickster stories represent much longer texts with redundant language, as column V of table 7.2 shows, where the observation can be made that these genres are distinguished from the others by their use of redundancy. In cultural documentation some procedures are described as cultural particularities. Including genealogies, the genre is the most circumlocutive connective genre. Three explicit genres are negatively distinguished as they exhibit a thematic structuring; while all song genres with their non-temporally-connective presentation at the same time exhibit directive distinctions, representing an interaction between speaker and addressee that replaces other structuring of texts. The vast differences that exist among the various genres distinguished for non-temporally- connective presentation suggest that an absence of temporally-connective presentation in itself signals the importance of other dimensions of communication.15 However, since most genres distinguished for non-temporally-connective presentation derive their structuring from external factors, such as the context that is shared by speaker and addressee(s), second person forms seem to be central as a distinctive feature. Differences in relation to other negative distinctions are partly due to the multifunctionality of these forms.16 Generalising, one could label the parameter as a difference that a focus on form represents with its textual references and structure. Concluding this analysis, it can be observed now that connective texts explicitly present some chronological structure, either for descriptions of the past of the clan (cultural documentation and genealogy), to describe personal experiences (life stories), for the imparting of the clan’s values to children (animal stories; riddles) or to build up tension in skilfully presented dramatic entertainment. Cross-linguistically narration seems an important factor explaining linguistic distinctions. In all languages researched for systematical variations in language use, narrative concern seems to be expressed to some extent by a temporally-connective presentation (Biber 1995: 253). In all these languages co-occurring forms contribute to a ‘temporally sequenced presentation of past events’ (op. cit. p. 260). Budu is no exception. Therefore the use of reported speech in Budu is all the more significant, as it is particularly exploited as a contribution to the cohesion of connective texts.

15As in Biber’s (1988) first dimension for English, more than one dimension of variation may be represented by one distinctive cluster. For the main dimension in English this is involvement of the addressee on the one hand and integration of information as its opposite. Biber comments that actually two dimensions are represented by the cluster of occurrence with most frequencies in English. 16Imperfect second person forms co-occur to distinguish directive language use next to their distinguishing function in clusters of non-temporally-connective features. Quantifiers and adjectives co-occur in explicit communication and in non-temporally-connective texts.

258 7.2.1.6 Entire Pact Story with Temporally-Connective Presentation17

In the rest of section 7.2.1 the particular use of temporally-connective features in Budu storytelling will be illustrated showing the significance of reported speech as opposed to other cross-linguistic features of narration, such as anaphorical references to time. The use of reported speech in Budu illustrates the importance of ‘presentation’ or ‘form’ in stories because speech fragments provide a story with structure. The following joke takes the form of a pact story18 that was schematised and discussed in appendix 5.B. In the setting a young man is introduced, who recently married. His rather strict instructions to his wife represent the thematic material, formulated in reported speech. Its role as thematic material can be observed from their occurrence as ‘pact’ pan of the pact story. The main point in this story is conveyed by the subtle variations on the use of k ‘too; indeed; also; even;’ this recurrence marker is therefore printed in italics:

Gue mnganá, nd a-ska m-oí a-ng, setting Man CL -one, when.IRR NPF.3SG –take CL-woman CL-his, + first episode 1. Upon marrying his wife, a certain man o-mi-njo -pan PF.3SG-HAB.OP3SG-give CL-law gave his wife the following instruction:

Ak-sugo b: W-s–eni i-dyo ínaní ak -káa y- sóòko, PROG- say that: 2SG-cook-COND CL-food there at CL-house CL-of cooking, 2. Saying: “While you are cooking food over there, in the cooking house”,

Wa-t-kana km, wá-t–paka km ínaní k ban; IPF.2SG-NEG.OPT- taste not IPF.2SG-NEG.OPT-divide not there too likewise, 3. “Don’t taste it, don’t even divide it”,

I-ká na-y tá k íyaní a-p a-sm! IMP-come ADD-CL just too here at –before at-mine 4. “Bring it here as you are expected to, just in front of me.”

M-oí ng-a-nan -ka-k ta k ban; CL-woman DET-REL-GIVEN PF.3SG-do-HAB now too likewise 5. That wife from then on indeed made it her habit to act accordingly.

A-ka-na-ka ma-pan ng-ka k– swa a-matí ma-kwaa ma-janana. PF.3SG-do-RED CL-law DET-REL CL-of husband at-inside of CL-days CL –many 6. During many days she acted according those instructions of her husband.

Ta b-isi mnganá a-moso -kch y- i-dyo ak dyaa, Now CL -day CL -one NPF.3SG-put CL-pot CL-of CL-food on fireplace 7. Now one day she after she placed her food pot on the fire, second episode ma-ngingi k- a-njb; CL–pieces CL–of CL-meat. (with) pieces of meat (in it).

17This pact story is also discussed in appendix 5.B. It is recorded on tape 3 text 01 by Fomuno Alongbaa July 1989 recorded in Ibambi. 18A pact story was selected instead of cultural documentation, as the latter exhibits many cohesive devices as its positive distinctions. Since these forms distinguish explicit communication as well, this genre was not selected for illustration of the expression of narrative concern. The genre of pact stories exhibits the use of most (significantly used) exclusively narrative variables.

259

-ngwa kynda a-nsa a-nisíni. CONS.3SG-go travel INF.to-go to- water.source 8. and went to make a little trip to the water source.

Ga y n swa b a-na-kang-a k -kch, Say she ADD husband that 3SG.IPF-OP1SG -look-APL too CL-pot 9. She told her husband that “also keep an eye at the pot for me please; yá-ti-sio-ko km CL.IPF-NEG.OPT-burn-REP not it should not get burned completely!”

-ngwa kynda; -sa a-nisíni. CONS.3SG-go travel CONS.3SG-go to-water.source 10. She went on her way and left for the water source.

Íyaní ambise a-ng, gue -ngwa kynda There after CL-LOG, man CONS.3SG-go travel 11. After she left, the man went on his way to go there, third episode a-nsa inani ak -káa y- sóòko. to.INF-go there to CL -house CL-of cooking to the cooking place.

-gana -kch, -ska kanya, CONS.3SG -open CL- pot CONS.3SG-take fork, 12. and after he opened the pot, took a fork,

-chma i-nging i y- a-njb; CONS.3SG -pierce CL-piece CL-of CL-meat pierced a piece of meat,

-naba-na na-y a-mbise u-mongu, a–ndya tá ínaní. CONS.3SG –hide–REF ADD-CL CL-backside of CL-door PF.3SG-eat just there. 13. and hid himself behind the door, he ate (it) just there.

O-ko-mu-bok-íso (k)m k ban b: “W-a gba-n-?” HPF.SG–NEG.PF-OP3SG-greet–CAUS not too like as-follows: IPF.2SG-be where.INT.eh? 15. She had not even asked him: “Where are you?”

-k-mb (k)m k ban b swa -s gba-n. HPF.3SG-NEGPF–know not too like as-follows: husband HPF.3SG-go where-INT 16. She had not even gathered where her husband had gone.

-gana y k -kch,-ska kanya, CONS.3SG-open she too CL-pot, CONS.3SG –take fork, 17. After she too opened the pot, took a fork,

-chma k i-ngingi y- i-dyo; CONS.3SG- pierce too CL-piece CL –of CL-food, pierced a piece of the food,

-naba-na k aki a-mbise u-mongu. CONS.3SG-hide–REF too there at-behind of CL-door. 18. she too hid herself there behind the door and then they met each other,

260 B-t-jonokio n gue áng ta k ínaní HPF.3PL- CONS-meet ADD man CL-hers now too there she and her husband, there (at that spot).

Nd ba-jonokio, ba-kanganga-na títa ak m-esu. conclusion When PF.3PL-meet NPF.3PL.-see -REC just.now in CL-eye 19. When they met each other, they just stared each other in the eyes.

M-ombí mnganá -k-sama ti batá m-ang. CL-person CL- one CONS.3SG-NEGPF-tell anymore again CL-other 20. and neither of them ever told the other anything about it anymore.

Several aspects of the language use in this joke illustrate in a clear manner what a temporally- connective presentation is like.19 A structuring that is not inherently temporal is provided by the use of speech quotes, while the use of reported speech in this pact story is nevertheless typical for temporally- connective presentation. It was already mentioned that the first occurrence of direct speech usually announces thematic material. Even in this short story variations on this thematic material are considerable. The twice repeated k ban ‘indeed like-that’ connects some events in a way that is heavy with implicit comment. In the absence of attributive adjectives and quantifiers the relation presented between the story events is significant to the temporally-connective presentation. Some narrators are considered skilful because they succeed in conveying characteristics of the participants without explicit descriptions that ‘spoil the entertainment’.20 More specific comments on the particular use of k ban ‘indeed like-that’ are meant to clarify these statements regarding this ‘dry’ presentation of events. According to convention (explained in appendix 5.B) the first reported speech (in line 2) presents the thematic material.21 The audience therefore pays attention to the five things that the man announces he expects from his wife, namely the cooking itself, the food, the cooking place and the handling of food, defined explicitly as ‘not scooping out’ and ‘not tasting’. The main message of the husband is, that his wife should deliver untouched meals ‘in his presence,’ which probably means in the sheltered meeting place of the men.

19Episodes start with an indication of time. Sentence-initial adverbial clauses are used in the lines 7; 11; 14; 19. They connect a new episode with the rest of the story. Line 1 illustrates the conventional start of Budu fiction with idiomatic opening gue/mombí mnganá ‘a certain’ (‘person’ or: ‘man’ in this case). The setting, which follows this idiom, is provided by a temporal adverbial clause in the irreal mode nd ‘when; imagine the situation where; in case’ and not nd ‘when,’ since this opening clause is not connected with given information. Sentence-initial adverbials not only indicate the time of action, they can also be used to refer back to information given in the preceding clauses. Line 19, where the climax of the story is introduced, draws the attention of the audience by repeating the previous verb as a temporal adverbial. In the temporal adverbial nd bajonokio ‘when they met’ the verb from previous clause btjonokio ‘they then met each other’ is repeated. The resulting emphasis is supported by the adverbial clitic ta ‘then; at that moment,’ in line 18. Left dislocated focus constructions slow down the tempo of the narration in an attempt to emphasize one action in particular. Adverbial indications of the duration of an action tend to occur in sentence-final position, as in line 6, with its specification (that the woman observed the instructions) amatí makwaa majanana ‘during many days.’ Another way to provide the text with chronological ordering is the use of temporal or locative anaphora, as in line 11, where Íyaní ambise ang ‘there after that’ is used to relate the time of the husband’s entrance to the kitchen with the wife’s departure to fetch water at the water source. 20This comment was made by Susanne Mbunzi and confirmed by several other Budu speakers in personal communication. The remark is not restricted to humorous stories. 21As I observed in a qualitative analysis of about thirty Budu stories in 1998, and discussed with Budu speakers in Ibambi, where I lived during that year.

261 In line 3 the strictness of these instructions is conveyed by the emphatic repetition including the recurrence marker. Recurrence markers mark the occurrence of an expected action or of recurring events. In line 4 the verb ‘to expect’ is used in the translation of the text to convey this extra shade of meaning. This adverbial phrase k ban ‘indeed + likewise’ can be translated in an amplified paraphrase as: ‘as I expect you to do.’ The verb phrase is a paraphrase of the word ‘indeed,’ the gloss of k. In line 5 the audience is told that the new bride ‘indeed’ k does as she is told, even ‘during many days’. The wife remains faithful to the instructions. The immediate repetition of the collocation k ban ‘indeed accordingly’ is significant.22 As an immediate repetition following the first reported speech, it gives the audience a possible clue to dramatic developments in the story. In Budu repeated collocations are, by convention, used to provide dramatic clues. They typically occur immediately after the first quote of the text. In the second episode the wife prepares for a trip to the water source. The narrator explicitly mentions the five thematic elements food, the cooking place dyaa ‘fireplace’ and the handling of the food kanga k kch, yátisioko km ‘watching that it does not burn’. The wife repeats the notions of the first reported speech, as signalled by use of a recurrence marker in line 9, which seems to emphasize that it is her turn to instruct her husband, if he at least wants to preserve his meat from “burning” yátisioko km. The ‘burning of food’ is referred to with the same verb root as the cooking, as the underlined sio ‘to cook’ shows. This verb derivation also represents food handling which is marked as a recurrence.23 This time the man is the Addressee and Agent of the actions-to-be- prevented. This repetition of the thematic notions represents the second cycle in this story. In the third episode the cooking place is mentioned again by its full name: káa y sóòko, ‘the cooking house,’ as in the first reported speech. In this third cycle three verbs are used to describe the touching of food. Its parallel with the original order, where the husband personally forbids any food touching prior to dinner, specifying it with two different verbs, is striking. In this repetition an even stronger emphasis on the forbidden action is expressed: line 12 has three different verbs specifying the food touching, while line 3 only has two. The parallel of reported speech is used to express a contrast. Another contrast exists between the cooking place tá inani ‘just there’ and the man’s place tá íyaní ‘just here,’ ap asm ‘in my presence’ as specified in line 4 as the place where the man desired to eat. The collocation with tá seems to emphasize that the man eats his meat ‘just there,’ behind the door of the cooking place, instead of eating in his self-ordained place. The unexpectedness is reflected in the absence of the recurrence marker k . In the fourth episode the recurrence marker hilariously underlines another parallel. The hidden actions of both husband and wife are presented in the same order, with the very same words. Their similarity is emphasized by use of ‘also; indeed’ k. Upon her return from the water, the woman ‘acts not according the husband’s expectations’, as finely pointed out by the repeated collocation k ban ‘indeed + likewise’. Apparently she was expected to shout a question like: “Where are you?” The contrast between this line and the expectations described in line 5 are highlighted by a twofold negation of the repeated collocation. The negated actions represent ‘not exactly what the husband expected his wife to do,’ as the lines 15 and 16 seem to convey. Malicious pleasure is provided by the exact fulfillment of the man’s demand. The wife brings food to her husband ‘just where he is,’ in his hiding place tá k íyaní ‘just here,’ ap asm ‘in my presence’ line 4.

22As Hatim and Mason (1990:204) remark, repeated collocations within one text are unmistakably related to speaker intention. 23The verb that is used to describe the undesired ‘burning of the food’ is the intensive derivation of the same verb s ‘to cook’ that was used in the man’s reported instructions in line 2, where he uses the underived form (not ‘burn’ with the intensive repetition marker –ko but ‘cook’).

262 In this mini-story the strict orders and specific expectations of the husband are emphasized by parallel constructions and lexical repetition line 15 and 16. The final remark entails an anti-climax that contrasts with these emphasized expectations. After the married couple discovers each other’s secret behind the kitchen door, they ‘did not have much left to say’ to each other. The use of the verb sama ‘tell’ is heavy with implications. The man lost his courage to ‘tell’ his new wife what to do. At the same time she ceases to impress him with her loyalty. The implied characterisation of the main characters is typical for Budu temporally-connective presentation in narrative discourse. No attributive adjectives are used, such as ‘loyal’ or ‘faithful (wife)’; or ‘strict’ (husband); (neither do adverbs such as ‘secretly’ or ‘quickly’, ‘terrified’ or ‘with astonishment’ occur). This story illustrates the prototypical use of implied evaluations of the discourse participants by lexical parallelism and contrasts. Cohesive devices therefore seem to be exploited to narrate dramatic story-parts, as was already explained in chapter 5. The use of reported speech in the pact story contributes to the expressed cohesion of a typically connective text. The distinctive connective nature of this genre needs to be explained with some general remarks concerning the dimension of distinguished language use, before the use of reported speech in general will be discussed.

7.1.1.7 Conclusion about the Presentation of Events in Budu

The use of temporally-connective variables results from the concern for a temporally-connective presentation of events. This presentation takes the form of chronologically structured, entertaining, educative or procedural texts with co-occurrence of temporally-connective variables. Most variables provide positively distinguished genres with explicit temporal indications. Reported speech expresses retrospection and anticipation, supporting the chronological ordering of the text. Furthermore it provides a scenic style with its repetition that allows for the variation of details, conveying implicit clues about the dramatic development of stories. Parallelisms between episodes provide a skeleton of background repetitions, against which acoustic signals are used to involve the audience in an approaching climax. Acoustic signals may consist of homophones or of repeated collocations. By convention they are repeated twice, first, immediately following the first reported speech and second, prior to the climax. The insignificant use of adjectives in story genres is related to this and can be explained as a result of the implicit communication of dramatically important information.24 Reported speech is a culturally specific distinction of temporally-connective language use. In contrast to temporally non-connective presentation that is structured externally by means of situated references, positively distinguished genres are characterised by textual references. Most positively distinguished genres represent fiction which is used to distract the audience from its direct environment. To achieve this purpose, skilled narrators attempt to present the audience with sequences of scenes. The imagination of the audience is stirred by scenic language use with considerable use of dialogues, the understanding of which requires inferences.25 The language use contains acoustic clues which, by their parallelisms function similarly to other cohesive devices that occur frequently in connective discourse. During dark nights at the fireside hearing is the most important sense. Storytelling apparently represents a strong concern for the form of presentation as reflected in the significant use of

24Despite the absence of any appeals to the addressees, audience participation is required for the understanding of information conveyed by subtle variations in the repetitions of thematic material. The resulting topic involvement is reflected in the distinctions of most story genres for community-involved communication (see table 7.2 column IV). 25Like in Kambatta, about which Matthews 2003:28 remarks (about Kambatta riddles; Ethiopia) that the genre is rich in imagery, since these ‘modes of expressions’ also ‘demonstrate the imaginative potential of the […] oral tradition.’

263 text references in combination with the absence of references to the context. Also non-fiction in life stories and in cultural documentation exhibits a focus on the chronologically structured presentation. A parameter of concern for temporally-connective presentation could be established in relation to the first dimension of variation of Budu language use.

7.2.2 Explicit Expression of Information vs. Implicit Expression of Information

In this section language distinguished for the second dimension is discussed and the contrast between the distinguished sets of genres is analysed. This second-most important distinction observed in the researched corpus exists between genres with explicit versus genres with implicit information. The distinction was interpreted as reflecting this contrast because its co-occurring forms mainly specify information. The transmission of information occurs through co-occurrences of forms that specify information26 (as presented in 5.2.2). In section 5.2.2.2 the functional interpretation of the co-occurring forms led to the conclusion that the second dimension is determined by a contrast between genres that specify information and genres that leave information unspecified. The second-largest distinction has 21 distinctions that co-occur to render information explicit. Only six genres are positively distinguished, ten are negatively distinguished. The small number of genres with explicit information is not related to a limited number of situations where speakers focus on information: in fact a focus on information is also expressed when it is purposely left implicit. Whereas four genres are distinguished for overtly explicit information by the consistent use of at least three variables, there are six genres with implicit information distinguished by their negative use. Most story genres in the corpus are distinguished by implicit information. Consider table 7.3A with the continuum of information:

7.2.2.1 The Continuum of Information Expression

Table 7.3A the continuum of information (cf. column I I of table 7.2)

15 variables significant in: cultural documentation (incl. genealogies) explicit ^ 9 medical information expression of l 4 life stories; proverbs; information l 3 riddles l l 1 work orders l l 1 variables significant in pact stories l reverse sense in: l 2 circumcision songs; individual songs; l animal stories l 3 ghost stories; trickster stories; parables l & pulpit speech (prayers; blessings) implicit l 5 party songs expression l 8 church songs of information v 10 drama

26They specify information either by exploiting specifications or by omission of these forms, stirring active participation.

264 The more variables occur positively in a genre, the more typical the genre seems to be for the expression of explicit exposition. The more variables occur in reverse sense, the more typical the genre is considered to be as implicit expression of information. Cultural documentation is at the extreme end of the dimension of explicit expression of information. Fifteen variables are significant for cultural documentation. Note that some of these variables are multifunctional, six of them being distinctive for the first dimension as well.27 The genre of medical information exhibits the use of less cohesive devices than other positively distinguished genres in this dimension since it includes tables with, for instance, the nutritional value of food items and an overview of vitamins and their function.28 At the other extreme end of the dimension in particular drama and church songs exhibit the use of multifunctional distinctions (that function at the same time as implicit, and as non-connective features). Explicit information is usually also presented in the form of structured texts (see the discussion of cohesive devices in 5.2.1.2). It is obvious from the overview above that work orders are less explicit in their expression of information than medical information or life stories. Work orders only have one variable of explicit information occurring significantly in the genre, whereas medical information consistently has nine positive distinctions.

7.2.2.2 The Contrast between Implicit and Explicit Information

The analysis in chapter 5 clarified that the co-occurrence of forms in the second-largest cluster in the researched corpus signals explicit information. The distinctions represent specifications of time and place (adverbials and relative clauses), quantity (adjectives), quality (adverbs), circumstances and conditions (conditional/gerund), goal (short infinitive), and manner (introducer of comparisons ‘such as’ ban; auxiliaries and relative clauses for manner), while the negative members of the cluster express an appeal to the addressee with a certain urgency of communication resulting in a presentation of non- specific information (a cross-linguistic universal that is clear from for example warnings). To investigate the observed contrast further, properties of the two sets of genres are considered in a contrastive analysis; verifying the hypothesis that the distinction between positively distinguished and negatively distinguished genres indeed consists of the expression of information (implicit or explicit). Consider table 7.3B with genres in grey representing new information and genres in italic ‘old’ or in other words: ‘given’ information:

27Ten of the 21 explicit variables are multifunctional forms; most of them being cohesive devices used in particular in cultural documentation, medical information, life stories and riddles. 28 The genre also includes some texts that were produced for literacy lessons.

265 Table 7.3B the sets of genres contrasted by features of explicit information

Implicit information vs. explicit information implicit (and temporally-connective) presentation: trickster stories cultural information and genealogies pact stories medical information ghost stories life stories and reported personal experiences animal stories about blood-brother friendships work orders (travel instructions; recipes; advice) parables and other speech from the pulpit (prayers; blessings) riddles and small stories re. facts of nature

Self–explanatory (and non-connective) information: proverbs drama church songs party songs (wedding songs; dance songs; drinking songs) individual songs (mourning songs; lullabies) circumcision songs

Two groupings of genres are discerned within the left column of table 7.3A. First, the group at the top-left of table 7.3B consists of five out of the seven narrative genres in the researched corpus. They all appear on this ‘implicit’ side. Genres distinguished for temporally- connective presentation apparently represent implicit information. Most story genres lack quantifiers and adjectives as mentioned under the section discussing the first parameter, where the absence of these forms was observed to signal temporally-connective presentations. Since stories also lack gerunds, adverbials, adverbs, and verbal negation, their presentation is also distinguished for implicit communication by the co-occurrence of forms of the second cluster. These story genres therefore lack a considerable number of forms that render information explicit. The audience familiarity with the content of most stories allows for an implicit presentation of information.29 Secondly, beneath the five story-genres in table 7.3B, other negatively distinguished genres on the lefthand side are song genres, drama and parables & other pulpit speech. In these genres the absence of explicit information is an automatic result of the ‘self-explanatory’ context of production. Song genres all presuppose a shared culture which implies shared knowledge; see for example the party song discussed in section 7.2.3.5. An implicit expression of information is possible with this kind of ‘self-explanatory’ language use. In contrast, on the righthand side of table 7.3B three genres with distinctively explicit information are cultural documentation; medical information and life stories. These are the three most distinguished genres on the positive side. In Budu society these three are also referred to as ‘news genres’ or masa. Explicit variables therefore seem to distinguish the exposition of ‘new information,’ in contrast to given information or shared knowledge. The genre of proverbs forms an exception. This genre presents well-known insights of the ancestors. Explicit descriptions nevertheless consistently occur in the metaphorical references that characterise the indirect communication in the genre. Like life stories, proverbs have four significantly used features of explicit information, one of which is verbal negation. While genres on the right specify information with explicit language use, genres on the left leave it unspecified. Non-specific information may either be communicated implicitly, by artful composition of a text as in story genres, or it may be inherent to a self-explanatory situation of language use. In conclusion, negatively distinguished genres either reflect culturally specific narrative techniques to heighten involvement of the addressees or extra-linguistic information that is provided by the context.

29Life stories and riddles are the only explicit genres with temporally-connective presentation. Like cultural documentation they exhibit both explicit and ‘temporally-connective’ variables. This implies that they exhibit cohesion and that the enigmatic questions are formulated as descriptions with explicit information, where the reference is to be guessed. Like parables, riddles do not involve the community and are used for individual expression (see table 5.D) in face-to-face interaction. Life stories do not involve the community either; they merely present information in a cohesive way.

266 7.2.2.3 A Contrastive Analysis

To facilitate the discussion of this contrastive analysis, more excerpts are provided in this sub-section as examples. Half of the negatively distinguished genres consists of verbally loosely structured genres such as drama and all song genres in the researched corpus. These temporally non-connective genres usually arise in a shared context that replaces the need for specific information, because most information is visibly present. Such information tends to remain unspecified in texts with consistent use of appeals to the addressees30 as illustrated by the drama fragment in section 7.2.1.2. The other half of the negatively distinguished genres seem to purposely leave information unspecified for the effect of increased audience involvement. An implicit expression of information seems to be exploited in the case of story genres, in order to obtain the degree of audience participation that good storytellers aim for. In appendix 5.B the remark was made that omissions sometimes convey important characterisations such as the ‘highly raised’ expectations of a new couple or a contrast between a ‘smart’ Monkey and his friend the ‘stupid’ Crocodile. Such omissions stimulate audience involvement by their implicit expression of information. Variations within repeated information are subtle enough to require the concentrated attention of the audience.31 The most entertaining characterisations can only be understood in an active process that results in the reconstruction of omitted information (this explanation of the implicit nature of most story genres is confirmed by the distribution of forms of the fourth cluster, discussed in the section on the parameter of community involvement.). In the genres with explicit information, neither the context nor any involvements of the audience are reflected. These genres seem to reflect a focus on the content. Most expositions contain general principles, which are often presented in explanations. The shortest explicit genre, which is that of proverbs, makes this very obvious (see section 7.2.1.4). Relations between observed elements in the visible reality need to be explained in general terms, because they can not be observed from the context of use. For instance, the causal relation between microbes and sicknesses, which is explained in the text excerpt in 7.2.3.7, can only be inferred. The ‘microbe example of that excerpt is the most extreme example of the decontextualisation32 or abstraction found in the explicit genres. Normally, inferred principles represent unknown information. They might need to be explained, because they surpass mere description or observation. The extent of abstraction is not the same for all explicit genres. Work orders including recipes and travel instructions anticipate the addressees’ immediate actions. The general principles in procedural genres are usually only one step ahead of the observed reality, resulting in less explicit expositions than are represented in, for instance, medical information. The less explicit language in work orders can be explained from its use in demonstrations (see section 7.2.2.5).

7.2.2.4 Excerpts with Implicit Information in Trickster Stories33

An excerpt from a genre with several negative distinctions, namely trickster stories, is provided here as an illustration. It represents the negative extreme of the dimension of variation that is distinguished by

30These appeals are expressed with pronouns 2 SG and Perfect verbs 2 SG, exclamations ínaawe and vocatives. 31Cf. Tannen (1989:28) about storytelling in general. In the case of a shared culture and society, implicit communication often guarantees entertainment, while at the same time reinforcing community life. Bateson (1972 in Tannen 1989:17) writes about the ‘metalinguistic message of rapport’ that involvement conveys to the addressee(s). 32To avoid confusion with the ideological use of this terminology (see Street 1993 for an overview of the discussion of ‘ideological’ literacy such as introduced by Goody 1977, who assumes a development of cognitive skills by means of ‘decontextualised communication’ and relates this to the use of script) the term ‘abstraction’ is used here. 33This is a fragment from a trickster story by Nds Mubhuma August 1990 recorded on tape 07 text 08.

267 the expression of information. Consider the lines 1-6 with their implicit expression of information. The trickster performs as a drum player at a dancing party that is organised to celebrate an engagement in his village.34 Both wives of the trickster are present at this party; they nevertheless are unaware that the charming drummer is the same person as their own husband. In order to spy on them he has told his wives that he would stay home ‘to recover from an illness’. The success of his deceit reaches a climax when, during the party, the women start to make jokes about their husband. They do not even notice his hidden reaction:

B-oí b-s -mb: Sdh i-wo g, dh t-ska Ndoana. CL-woman PF.3PL-sing CL-song : Sdh OPT.3SG-die IRR.that MOD OPT.1PL-take Engagement 35 1. The women sang this song : “Let Sódu drop dead, so that we might marry Ndoana.”

Sdh o-bu-sig-io a-matí ba-bhibha: b, ambo inu ni-sio g, Sdh PF.3SG-OP3PL-tell-APL CL-inside of CL-drum that if.IRR you(PL) OPT.2PL-die IRR.say 2. Sódu answered them with his drum signalling : “If you two actually died,

No-ni-kuto-ko n dhdh b gbu 4x Sdh -bnd ba-bhibha ban. CONS.1SG-OP2PL-cover-REP ADD dirt that IDEOPH Sdh PF.3SG-beat CL-drum such 3. I should , definitely be covering you with dirt ,” Sodu played the drums like that.

B-oí b-k b a-gboso Sdh a-matí -mb, CL-women PF.3PL-do them CL-curse Sdh CL-inside of CL-song 4. The women, they cursed Sódu in their song.

gboso nga y- Sdh b-mb-nk km dh bo-tunguo tá to.curse kind CL-of Sdh PF.3PL-NEGIRR-hear not for PF.3PL-think just 5. The kind of cursing that Sódu produced, they could not hear it, as they were thinking

b Sdh ab(io)á-kwal-é n kábú aki a-ndei. that Sdh 3SG.be 3SG-sleep-PTC with sickness there at-home 6. that Sódu was asleep at home with (his) disease.

Characteristic of the implicit communication in lines 2 and 3 is the use of the Object Prefix. Line 2 has – bu- to refer to women with the third plural ‘them’, line 3 addresses the same women with the second plural –ni- ‘you’. There is no reference with a full (pro)noun. The skilful drum player communicates his curse by rhythms,36 which he plays to accompany the dancing. This curse is emphasized in a focus construction with left dislocated object in line 5. The reversed order is one of the features of implicit communication and therefore illustrates its distinction.

34The bride at these traditional engagements is officially presented to the inhabitants of the village, after a fortnights’ seclusion. During this fortnight, nobody is allowed to see her, except some girls that are assigned to feed her well and and to treat her skin with the white oil of the kernels of palm nuts (similar to ancient customs related to girls menarche that seem to have existed among the Budu). At the climax of these festivities she comes out of her hiding to be ‘shown’ to the village population. Everybody in the neighbourhood is invited to dance and sing at this occasion. 35The name Ndoana is the Swahili name of the host in this story. 36Budu with its two phonemic tones can be used in the messages announced on so-called talking drums igogó. An igogó is placed on a forked stick (mbhngá (m-) and beaten at two different sides of the split opening with ingbé (ma-) ‘sticks.’ One side of the drum represents the High toneme, the other side the Low toneme, referred to as the voice of the woman and the voice of the men. Apparently the same technique can be used with the abhibha drum that is used for dancing sessions, as the trickster seems to do in this story.

268 Reversed order replaces a more explicit construction for emphasis, which occurs, for instance, in line 7 and 8 of the excerpt from medical information in section 7.2.2.6.37 The curse could be paraphrased as: “I would be the first to throw dirt in your grave with the same pleasure as I now have in making this sound playing the drum.” The ideophone GBU can only be used for the noise of throwing something down. Therefore it represents implicit information, implying shared cultural knowledge regarding funerals, although ideophones by themselves do not distinguish implicit communication in Budu. A fourth example is the description in line 6, where a sick person is described being ‘asleep with sickness’. This nominal construction ‘with sickness’ replaces the more integral expression of information with adverbs or adjectives (see table 5.B).38 All four examples result from Budu storytelling conventions with subtle expressions of dramatic emphasis and significant omissions. Information which is left unspecified in storytelling, could, in explicit information, be formulated with different forms. Instead of Object Prefixes full objects could be used, instead of left-dislocated focus constructions full phrases could be used, instead of ideophones (or noun phrases) adjectives (or adverbs) could be used. However, the use of these alternatives could “spoil the fun of the story.” This particular language use seems to be determined by the narrator’s concern to build up dramatic tension. After this in-depth discussion of one ‘implicit’ genre, some ‘explicit’ genres are now considered.

7.2.2.5 Excerpts with Explicit Information in Work-orders39

Most work instructions are furnished with ‘demonstration’ as the genre name mapan ‘demonstrations’ suggests. Consider, for example, the following instructions of a mother, who specifies the best size of firewood sticks with an attributive adjective (in underlined print). The first two phrases are followed by gestures that are introduced with speech introducing b ‘that’:

Ba-gue ba-boto sangua b. Wa-gbua m-sanga b. CL- man IPF.3 PL -hold knife like: (gesture) IPF..2SG.-slap.down vines like: 1. Men hold a knife like this: 2. You have to slap down the vines like this:

M-kaka ng-y tà bhl-bhl wá-i-kio i-bomu b. CL -stick DET–REL ADI small-RED IPF.2SG-OP3PL-cut CL-all like: 3. The very small sticks, you have to cut these entirely like this:

W--kwa-íso idó. CONS.2SG- OP3PL-cut.down-CAUS well 4. You should chop those up entirely.

In line 1 the mother refers to the behaviour of ‘males’ in general. She instructs her sons with generalisations about male methods. At the end of line 2 her demonstrated manner of ‘slapping vines’ is announced with b. It represents her preferred way of doing this. Even though the mother could just demonstrate the desired posture and action, she continues to explain it with some general principles. The ‘very small sticks’ have to be chopped ido ‘well,’ exactly as the experienced mother defines it by her demonstration. The use of adjectives represents an evaluation implying the mother’s practical

37The gboso ‘curse’ is the object of hearing of the women (third plural subject of the verb nk ‘to hear’). 38Adjectives are preceded by the marker ta (L) and by class prefixes. Adjectives are used to integrate information without adding emphasis. In contrast, in performative language use the Perfect participle, like ákwalé ‘asleep’ can be used to describe qualities (see table 5F) when an emphasis is implied. 39This excerpt is a fragment from work orders by Mrs. Bafamutoyi-Yakayang, tape 29 text 7.

269 acquaintance with the most opportune size of pieces of firewood to start fires with. The language reflects abstract generalisations with evaluations that allude to practical acquaintance. This practical acquaintance also serves as a certain proof of the validity of instructions, as can be observed from the following reported dialogue with a father’s work order:40

W-a ndí k a-n-na? Ak na- ak-dhdhk ma-kpab? IPF.2SG-be INT indeed to-INF-see ANAPH IPF.1SG–RAF PROG-arrange CL –rope 11. Do you indeed see it? The way I am arranging the ropes?

Ga mw-aná b: ‘Iii á-bhaa n-a tá n-na.’ Say CL- child that : yes CL-father IPF.1SG-be just INF-see 12. At which the child says:” Yes father, I see it very well.”

, n-j. No-mi-njo ta y ma-kpab. RES PF.1SG-descend PF.1SG-OP3SG -give now him CL -rope 13. Well, as I descended, I give him the ropes now.

Ga m na-y b: “Detó ta w.” Say me with-him that climb.IMP now you. Me, I say to him: “Now you climb up.”

The verb dhdhk ‘arrange’ in line 1 refers to the use of a rope to secure the palm-tree climber while moving upwards. In the picture on the following page a palm-tree climbing expert is depicted with his characteristic knife and rope. The rope is used to tie around the leg while climbing a palm tree. The knife is used to harvest the palm nuts or to kill snakes. The rope needs to be adjusted after each upward movement. Misunderstandings about this essential aspect of the skill are avoided by specifications regarding the main actions and their goals, expressed by infinitives.41 An explicit reference to participants, goals and actions reflects attempts to avoid fatal misunderstandings during the palm tree climbing. These specifications also ‘prove’ that the father knows what he is talking about. In chapter 8 the social implications of this distinguished expression of information are discussed.

7.2.2.6 Excerpts with Explicit Information in Literacy Lessons (a subgenre in Medical Information)

The same use of language characterises literacy lessons, where teachers use visual material explaining information, as in the following picture. This title page of the first Budu primer announces a question in two major dialects of Budu (Neta and Koya). The left side shows an experienced member of society with as paraphernalia of power some bark-cloth trousers, a hat with eagle feathers and a broom. He asks the young boy whether he would be able to read and write Budu. The context of literacy lessons is illustrated by the alphabet chart the man points at. Most literacy lessons are supported by visual aids and exploit a shared context by their references to a chart, a blackboard or a primer. Consider the following lines taken from a literacy lesson in the Budu primer by Fomuno Alongbaa (May 1996):

40The recording took place when, during a fire side meeting, one of the attendees explained the lessons he taught his son in palm tree climbing. This excerpt is from palm tree climbing instructions as demonstrated by Mr. Bpndb-Magymbk recorded in Ibambi in June 1992 on tape 29. 41The translation ‘I see it very well’ (line 12) is an attempt to translate (na) tá nna literally: ‘I see just to see.’ The added infinitive expresses emphasis.

270 Popoko aka, popoko aka. Popoko -bd. Popoko -bd. Read.IMP here read .IMP here Read.IMP CL-Budu Read.IMP CL-Budu 1. Read here (this), read here. 2. Read Budu, read Budu.

–bd y-a n ma-s k-áng. CL-Budu IPF.3SG-is ADD CL-sound (FR) CL-its 3. Budu has its own sounds.

Ma-s k-áng k-a a e i o u, n a . CL-sound CL-its CL-is a, e, i, o, u, and a eh, ih, oh, uh. 4. The sounds are a, e, i, o, u, and A, E, I, O, U

Table 7.3C front page of the first Budu primer

W-amba nd k popoko n tndaka -Bd? IPF.2SG-know INT indeed of read ADD write CL-Budu 1. “Will you be able to read and write Budu?”

Literacy lessons typically contain abstractions, such as the remark in line 3 that “Budu has its own sounds,” and consequently represent an explicit expression of information. This text goes beyond the reality of Budu and makes a generalisation about its nature as one of the world’s languages with its own sounds. Aka ‘here’ in line 1 refers to the blackboard on which the sounds of line 4 are spelled out. Literacy lessons presuppose the possibility of demonstration.

271

7.2.3.7 Excerpt with Explicit Information in Medical Information42

Finally, explicit information is illustrated by a longer excerpt from medical information. Medical information is one of the newer genres with explicit expression of information and it exploits all possible distinctions of explicit information as if to remove doubts about the intention of the speaker. Consider the following excerpt of an extremely explicit text, written during the years 1990 by some trained nurses who worked together with Mrs. Abimani to produce information sheets on primary health care in the mother tongue. 43 Although the text of these sheets is furnished with practical instructions, it primarily concerns theoretical lessons about the causal relation between microbes and infections and about the relation between healthy food and the prevention of sicknesses. Most texts that are used for the transmission of knowledge, render information explicit by comments about either experience, demonstrated skills or observed facts. In the following excerpt ‘sicknesses’ and ‘dirt’ are represented as observed facts:

Ba-tt b- kws ng-b-nan ba-ny ngb, wa-ng-b-na n m-esu. CL- creature CL-of sickness, DET-REL-GIVEN CL-small very IPF.2SG-NEG-OP3PL -see ADD CL-eye. 1. The particular pathogenic creatures (about which this booklet explains) are very small.

Ba-ky-bu–jóyo tá, b amb b-b-káng n -kanga-na, IPF.3PL-HAB-OP3PL-arrive only, that MOD PF.3PL-OP3PL-see ADD CL-see-PAS 2. You cannot see them with your eyes. They are getting them in view only, 3. if actually they look at them with a thing which makes things visible.

Ng-y ya-pana-ka ba-tt b- kws (microscope). DET-REL PF-CL-show-REP CL- creatures CL-of sickness (microscope FRENCH). 4. which enlarges pathogenic creatures (a microscope).

Ma-dyo ka-kumon-io k ba-tt b--tà-bb ak -taka CL -food CL.PF-enter-PAS too CL-creatures CL-of-ADI- bad at CL-soil 5. Food too can be infested with bad creatures at the soil,

n tibi k- ba-nama ngb, ADD faeces CL-of CL-animals very Especially by animal droppings.

Y-osisékio gyaba a-gbondo […] CL-PF should wash CL-spinach 6. One should wash spinach [a list of food types follows]

n k-m n m-epo k-tà ma-dó p- sa. ADD CL-other ADD CL- water CL- ADI- CL- good front-of cooking and similar food with clean water before cooking.

Y-m -pan, ng-w-nan w-a n-w a-na, nd w-a bm, CL-other CL-law DET-REL-GIVEN CL-be ADD-you to-get like CL-IPF.be hard, 7. Concerning the other rule, that one which you are about to get now, as hard as it is,

42 This excerpt by Mrs. Abimani c.s. (1996) is part of an unpublished manuscript. 43Before she started working as medical worker in Isiro in 2001, Mrs. Abimani supervised the medical work in the clinic she owned in Ibambi in the nineties. Her husband coordinated literacy activities in Budu in the late 1990s.

272 dh w-a n ta -ja, yákamngana wo-sisekio-sisekio-ni, for CL-be ADD work CL-much nevertheless CL.PF-should-RED-PAS PTC 8. -because it is so much work-, it should nevertheless be done.

a-k y-aka y- pmaka u-fíni, ng-wa w-s u-dó ngb, CL-top of CL-word CL-of keeping CL-fireplace, DET-REL CL-yours CL-good very, 9. Concerning the matter of keeping your fireplace very tidy,

Ak-himb-íso b-aná, ng-ba b-tà bhl-bhl INF- prevent-CAUS CL-children DET-REL CL- ADI small-RED 11. that is to keep very young children from contaminating each other

n kwisu–no–k-íso y-tà-bka-bka. ADD being.sick -REC–REP-CAUS CL-ADI –HARD –RED with severe chronical infections.

The abundance of attributive adjectives in this fragment is striking in comparison to most other Budu texts (see the translated words in italic print). The use of adjectives represent the authors’ evaluations, calling some things ‘bad’ -bb (the creatures in line 5) and other things ‘good’ -dó (the water in line 6). The same pair of ‘good’ versus ‘bad’ occurs in predicative adjectives that are frequently used in parental advice, where the speaker definitely is more experienced than the hearer. The text exhibits an abundance of predicatively used adjectives and adverbs. Line 1 has bany ngb ‘very small (creatures);’ line 7 bm ‘hard’ (rule); line 8 ja ‘much’ (work); line 9 udó ngb ‘very good (tidy). Similar evaluations are presented in the lines 1 and 9 with the associative constructions batt b kws ‘pathogenic creatures’ and yáka y pmaka ufíni udó ngb ‘good housekeeping’. The nature of invisible creatures is interpreted as ‘pathogenic’ and the hard work of fireplace cleaning is considered a ‘good’ thing. These forms render information explicit in an attempt explaining the observed ‘sicknesses’ in relation to ‘dirt’. The causal relation can be inferred from personal observations with a microscope, to which the text refers in lines 2 - 4.44 The use of evaluations suggests the authors’ personal experience with microscopic observations. The use of a French loanword reflects the French training where the nurses learned to use microscopes. Other personal observations of the authors concern ‘very tiny children’ who ‘kept contaminating each other’ in environments, where ‘animal droppings on the soil’ apparently were in reach of the toddlers and in close vicinity of the crops.45 In the lines 6 and 8 the use of modal auxiliaries, adjectives and adverbs reflects evaluations that are based on the personal experience of the nurses.

7.2.3.8 Conclusion about the Expression of Information in Budu

The explicit expression of information reflects attempts to explain some general principles behind the observed reality. The transmission of knowledge with a focus on general principles implies abstractions from the visible reality and includes the use of evaluations. Such evaluations mark a practical acquaintance of the speakers with some skill or observed fact. The typical teacher role seems to be indexed by the use of qualifying forms that express evaluations. The highly marked status of language

44The Budu paraphrase in line 3 consists of a nominalisation of the derived verb kanga ‘look,’ it is called ‘a thing that (other things) be shown.’ This nominalisation with passive derivation is normally used for ‘mirror,’ as mirrors also make things observable. 45Spinach is cultivated during dry season and watered with dishwashing water. It therefore grows close to the cooking place.

273 used in explicit information is obvious from the small number of genres that exhibit this dimension of communication. In contrast, implicitly expressed information suffices in a context with self-explanatory information. The language use in song genres and drama, for instance, represents omissions in the expression of information because the performance supplies non-verbal clues. Not all implicit expression of information is activated automatically. In storytelling it is not triggered by the context but purposely included since it guarantees audience participation. In most story genres information is presented in such way that the audience is provided with the fun of unpacking the implicit information as a group. Most language use that represents community involvement (see dimension four) presumes a shared culture and therefore implicitly refers to shared cultural knowledge. Stories and songs, such as drama, tacitly assume such shared cultural values.46 The multifunctionality of some distinctions of explicitness is related to the particularly implicit expression of information in Budu storytelling. Nevertheless, a parameter of the expression of information could be established in relation to the second dimension of variation of language use, because the distinguished genres indeed represent a gliding scale as suggested in table 7.3A.

7.2.3 Directive Communication versus Non-Directive Communication

In this section the continuum of language distinguished for the third dimension is discussed and the contrast between the distinguished sets of genres is analysed. The third largest distinction observed in the researched corpus exists between directive and non-directive genres. This distinction was interpreted as reflecting the contrast between directive and non-directive language use because its co- occurring forms mainly express urgent appeals to react. The urgency of the appeals follows from the forms that co-occur with second person forms as discussed in section 5.2.3. More than half of the genres in the researched corpus are distinguished as directive communication. Whereas, in the discussion of the former parameter explicit information was observed to be represented by six genres only, the parameter of directive language use is manifest in ten positively distinguished genres. Only six genres represent non-directive monologues. The distinction of directive language use consists of co-occurrences of nine positive and ten negative members of the third cluster. Together they form nineteen variables that determine the urgency of an appeal. Directive language-use distinguishes appeals to the addressee as a main aspect of communication. In section 5.2.3 every positive distinction was interpreted as expressing an appeal to the addressee, whereas every negative distinction reflects the lack of urgency of language use that is common to non- directive genres. This functional interpretation is the basis for the analysis that is presented in the following section.

46 See for example the party song discussed in section 7.2.3.5.

274 7.2.3.1 The Continuum of Directive Communication

Table 7.4A the continuum of directive communication (cf. column III of table 7.2)

12 variables significant drama Direct appeal ^ in: for instant reply I 7 church songs expressed I 5 party songs I 2 trickster stories; ghost stories; I individual songs; work orders l 1 riddles; circumcision songs; parables I & pulpit speech (incl. prayers; I blessings) I l 1 variable significant in animal stories; proverbs l reverse sense in: l 4 pact stories l 6 medical information l 8 life stories I 12 cultural documentation (incl. No direct appeal I genealogies) expressed (no reply I expected) V

The more variables occur in a genre, the more typical the genre seems to be for the expression of directive, hence urgent communication. The more variables occur in reverse sense, the more typical the genre is considered to be as expression of non-directive language use. Non-directive language use typically presents the addressee with specific information without any appeal to react. Unlike medical information or life stories, church songs are overtly distinguished as directive language use, reflecting the outdoor-meetings in which they occur, where outsiders are invited to join in. This is expressed in church songs by the use of seven directive distinctions. Riddles, due to their challenging nature, imply interaction.47 The genre consistently includes one appeal to the addressee to provide an answer. They nevertheless only exhibit one variable, probably because the sub-genre of story-riddles is represented by language use that is not overtly directive. Life stories seem to be the only connective genre with highly-individual reflections expressed during group interaction. This rather unique group-related language use without attempts to persuade, to argue or to accomplish something by performative language use, seems to be relatively new in Budu.

7.2.3.2 Excerpts with Non-Directive Communication in Life Stories48

This excerpt of a life story illustrates the expression of information without any appeal to react. It was recorded during informal meetings of the Budu language committee, while an anonymous speaker evaluated his personal experiences of courtship, marriage and the births of his first children as ‘very joyful’ events. Consider the significant absence of second person forms:

N-kwa png -gyagyá a-ngbinga, ng-y-ak no-bio- bt.. PF.1SG-fell past CL-joy CL-period DET-CL-there PF.1SG-be-RAF empty-handed 1. During the time, when I was without responsibility I had great joy,

47Some authors even mention ‘interaction’ as one of the cross-cultural features of riddles: “puzzles to be solved through riddle interaction and symbolic activity rather than through deliberation on analytical processes” (Awedoba 2001:37 quotes Kallen and Eastman 1979:418). 48This excerpt is from text 2 recorded on tape 00, June 1992 Ibambi, author anonymous (male).

275

Ta a-ngbinga, ng--ak ta-na-na- n m-oí a-sm. Now CL-period DET-CL-there PF.1PL-see-REFL-RAF ADD CL-wife CL-mine 2. from the time when we started to see each other, me and my wife,

Kdh to-boto ta. Then PF.1PL-hold now 49 3. when we then also got acquainted.

Ta-mba-na-ka ak-ak y-aká y- skana ng-y-()s. NPF.1PL-fix-REC-DO at-on of CL-thing CL-of marriage DET-REL-our 4. We had been preparing our official wedding.

Ngbinga,ng-y(-tà y-*)ak ta-jonia-, ta-skana-, Period DET-REL(-ADI CL–)ANAPH NPF.1PL-meet-RAF NPF-marry-RAF 5. During that time (mispronunciation*, not correct) when we used to have meetings, during which we married,

T-kw -gyagyá y-tà a-kíso -ba, s ak-jono-kio. PF.1PL-fell CL-joy CL-ADI to.INF-overflow CL-fear we PROG -meet-REP 6. We had a terrific sense of joy for the fact that we were constantly together;

a-ka k -káa ng-y- s, s b-ombí bá-piní. INF-do also CL-house DET-REL-our we CL-persons CL-two 7. to also manage our household, us, as two persons.

Nguo -gyagyá ng-a y-nn y-a-mb km aka. Nature CL-joy DET-be REL-anaphor CL-be-NEG.IRR not here 8. That joy there, there is nothing to compare it with;

-gyagyá y-tà akisbá. Asb -t-ka ta k-idó, CL-joy CL-ADI ‘terrific’ God CONS.3SG-OP1PL-do now also-good a terrific joy. 9. God also did us good.

-pnga n-s ak-nínjo ta k n ba-ná. CONS.3SG-begin ADD-us PROG–give now also ADD CL-children 10. He now started to give us children as well.

y-nn y-a -gyagyá a-matí u-béí ng-wa w-sm. REL-GIVEN CL-is CL-joy CL-inside of CL-life DET-REL CL-mine 11. That was all (I had to say) about the joy in my life.

The speaker announces in the first line that his topic is ‘joy’. During his talk, he specifies periods he remembers as particularly ‘happy’. The adverb bt ’empty handed,’ refers to the life of a bachelor. As an adverb the form is distinctive for non-directive speech. Lines 1 and 2 have temporal clauses with the relative affix - that mark their subordinate position in relation to the main phrase. These temporal adverbials that specify moments are characteristic for the redundancy of language of this text. Line 4 and line 11 have associative constructions yáka y skana ‘the matter of our wedding’ and amatí ubéí ‘in my life’ that represent a certain circumlocution that is typical for non- directive texts, reflecting the absence of urgency.

49The verb-form literally means: ‘when we hold each other.’

276 A certain mispronunciation was observed in line 5 by several Budu speakers. It is one of the characteristics of the redundancy of language of this text.50 Line 6 to 8 contain various specifications with attributive adjectives, ytà akíso ba ‘terrific’ occurs twice and a quantifier bapiní ‘two’. is used. Line 8 begins with an archaic expression for abundant joy. Note how the use of adjectives is closely related to personal experiences, as mentioned in the discussion about explicit information. In line 9 the speaker gives God the credit for the joy in his life, using the frequently used adverb ido ‘good’ in his evaluation. The anaphoric expression that refers back to the main topic functions as closure to the story. The repetition of first person forms in this text is characteristic for life stories. Consider also the following excerpt, written by a sixteen year old girl.51 It represents a Budu ‘fisherman’s tale’, although in common with the other non-directive texts, it is formulated without attempts to convince the readers:

y me-po ka-nanga,t-pnga ta n-fa sipe. When CL –water CL. NPF-dry CONS-1PL-start now to.INF-catch fish. 5. When the water had dried up, at that moment we began to catch fish.

S m-nganá -t-chwea-na. T-kwa -ba ngb. Snake CL- certain PF.3SG-CONS-come.out -PAS CONS.1PL-fall CL-fear much. 6. The following moment a certain snake had appeared. We were very frightened.52

Yákamngana, ye ba-m-wa, t-na batá n a-ngu. But, when NPF.3PL-OP3SG-kill CONS.1PL-get again ADD CL-power. 7. But when they had killed it, we found courage again.

Kdh ta-fa sipe y-tà -kpkp n y-tà bhl-bhl ktaa. Then NPF.3PL-catch fish CL-ADI CL-fat and CL –ADI small-RED also 8. We then caught some fat fish and some tiny ones too.

Note the use of first person forms throughout the fragment. With the temporal adverb ta ‘now’ in line 5 and the temporal adverbials in lines 5 and 7 the excerpt is clearly connective in its chronological presentation. The consecutive forms are distinctive for non-directive language use, such as the attributive adjectives in the last line ytà kpkp ‘fat’ and ytà bhl-bhl ‘tiny’ representing specifications that tend to be absent in more urgent communication. The evaluations are closely related to personal experiences, such as the one about the joy that is expressed in the former excerpt. Instead of adjectives, the use of associative constructions is significant in non-directive genres. In life stories adjectives are significant too, since this genre is used to explain information as well. Associative constructions are not used as a distinction of explicit information, unlike adjectives. It is not arbitrary that this second excerpt contains a quantifier just like the first excerpt. In line 6 s mnganá ‘one’ snake is mentioned.

50Also the use, in line 2, of the temporal connective kú dh indicates an unexpected redundancy as it follows a temporal affix, probably resulting from the spontaneous production of this text (in comparison line 5 uses a similar temporal clause without redundant temporal connective in its main clause). 51The excerpt is from a life story by Lipoo Anzabati written in 2002. 52In line 6 the word for ba ‘fear’ is used in an idiomatic expression with the verb nkwa ‘to fall.’ It is used in a literal sense, unlike in former text, where the noun was part of the adjective ytà akíso ba ‘terrific.’ The verb is used in idiomatic expressions which, unlike most idioms, are not distinctive of performative language use. For examples see section 5.2.4.2.

277 In conclusion life stories represent an elaborate presentation of specific information without any urgency of communication. The lack of appeals to the addressee reflects the absence of a need to persuade others. For other non-directive genres see section 7.2.3.7 with medical information and genealogy (a subgenre to cultural documentation) in section 6.2.4. or section 7.2.4.3 with cultural documentation.

7.2.3.3 Two Contrasted Sets of Distinguished Genres

The contrasted sets of genres represent opposite ends. They are distinguished as two types of communication by their predictable co-occurrences. The functional interpretation of this cluster of co- occurrence was instrumental in the analysis of the contrast. However, the shared properties of each of the two distinguished sets of genres can be understood even better from a contrastive analysis. First the sets in themselves need to be considered. Table 7.4B is provided for references in the discussion of the contrasted sets of genres, names of embedded-speech genres included between brackets:

Table 7.4B the sets of genres contrasted by directive features (dialogues in italics, monologues in grey) Non-directive genres Directive genres cultural documentation (including genealogies) drama life stories and reported personal experiences church songs pact stories (with thoughts, decrees and party songs (wedding songs; dance songs; drinking songs) guarantees) medical information trickster stories (with guarantees and reproaches); ghost stories (with (dis)agreements and story songs) proverbs work orders (travel instructions; recipes; advice) animal stories (with agreements) individual songs (mourning songs; lullabies) riddles and small stories re. facts of nature circumcision songs parables and other speech from the pulpit (prayers; blessings)

The genres on the righthand side of table 7.4B represent dialogues and stories with embedded dialogues, printed in italics. At first sight it seems that a high percentage of reported speech may determine the directive language use in these genres.53 At a closer look, the percentage of reported speech in the directive genres on the righthand side is not necessarily higher than in the non-directive genres (see table 5). For example trickster stories exhibit an average of 27% reported speech and ghost stories 25%. Both occur on the right side of the overview, although these directive genres contain hardly more reported speech than animal stories with an average of 26% reported speech or pact stories with an average of 26% reported speech. Apparently the two sets of genres are not differentiated by their percentages of reported speech. The size of the embedded-speech genres does not determine the directive nature of the genres on the right side. Its directive nature is determined by the genres of the embedded speech. The results of the research of embedded-speech genres were presented in chapter 6. These results indicate that conventional distinctions of the language use in embedded-speech genres determine the directive nature of the main genres that are contrasted in table 7.4B. The fourth dimension of variation is distinguished by features that distinguish embedded-speech genres as well. In other words: the language in the embedded-speech genres in brackets on the righthand side of table 7.4B is characteristic for directive language use. Trickster stories consistently contain rather directive reproaches with vocatives that occur consistently in their idiomatic opening.54 Ghost stories frequently

53For the forms that occur consistently in embedded genres see chapter 6. 54The vocative ayóo! “Bloodbrother!” was tagged as idiomatic expression when it follows Húú!

278 have directive story songs and (dis-)agreements. These genres represent directive language use, as other dialogues in this set of positively distinguished genres (see the bold print in the tables 6.A and 6.B).55 Although parables, on the righthand side, represent non-directive stories, the prayers and blessings that are included in the pulpit speech that was labelled with parables, represent directive sub- genres. The main genre’s name is printed in grey, to show the exceptionally non-directive nature of the included parable stories.

7.2.3.4 Contrastive Analysis of Two Distinguished Sets of Genres

By comparing the two contrasted sets of genres, the nature of the distinction is investigated in more detail now. Three aspects of the contrast are considered here; namely circumlocution, the relation between institutional authority and the absence of urgency, and impact of authoritarian language use. First, the detailed language use in non-directive genres is striking, as was said in comment on the life-story excerpts. All individual monologues on the lefthand side of table 7.4B are used to provide detailed information in circumlocution. Even proverbs, which exhibit brevity, consistently represent various specifications.56 In contrast, most genres on the righthand side represent straightforward communication without specifications. Urgency is cross-linguistically associated with directive language use. In Budu this urgency is, for instance, reflected in the lack of locative adverbials in disagreements, as was said in comment on table 6.6 (former chapter). It can be explained as the result of this urgency that information is left unspecified in the genres of story songs, which often exhibit the frantic pursuit of an enemy; and reproaches which represent a final confrontation with a deceitful friend. Genres on the lefthand side have in common that they do not reflect the same urgent appeal for a reaction as the contrasted genres on the right. These observations suggest that there is some similarity between elaborate speech (table 6.6) and non-directive language use. Perhaps it needs to be added that these two dimensions of variation do not correspond to each other. The non-directive genre of proverbs, for instance, represents non- elaborate speech whereas the directive genre of trickster stories contains elaborate guarantees. Second, another aspect shared by some genres on the lefthand side was also mentioned in the chapter on embedded-speech genres in section 6.2.5. The co-occurrence of some features of direct appeals57 in the non-elaborate genres with embedded speech is apparently related to the urgency of communication. In particular in non-institutional genres an urgent appeal for reactions tends to be expressed, whereas the more institutional genres among the embedded-speech genres side seem to be elaborate. Decrees and guarantees form Budu institutions that are related to the leader of the village or lineage and to special bonds between members of the same lineage amongst each other. The institutional setting of these embedded-speech genres is indicated by their performative genre markers, since decrees consistently lack short infinitives; while the oath vocative occurs consistently in

55Directive reproaches also occur embedded in some animal stories, at the left side of table 7.4B. 56The genres on the lefthand side of 7.4B have extremely elaborate embeddings. Genealogies represent the genre with most circumlocution in the entire mini-corpus of embedded speech genres. In chapter 6 it was discussed that its language use determines the nature of cultural documentation. Also discussed in chapter 6 were the following observations: Pact stories (26% reported speech) frequently contain embedded thoughts of the protagonist, which are lengthy and reflect non-directive reflections of an individual, comparable to the main genre of life stories (14% reported speech). The results of the embedded speech genre thoughts exhibit resemblances with the results for life stories; similarities determined by their non-directive nature. Decrees are embedded in pact stories, while the agreements between a village chief and, for example, his villagers, determines the language that distinguishes pact stories as a non-directive genre. 57Features of directive communication that occur in non-elaborate speech are imperatives, second person forms, interrogative pronouns, interjections, modal exhortation.

279 guarantees.58 Therefore the language use in these genres seems to indirectly reflect the authority of speakers in institutional setting, whereas non-elaborate language use may reflect the desire to persuade the addressee with directive communication (cf. table 5.C). Similarly, non-directive genres reflect the absence of any need to persuade the addressee(s). The addressee is already bound to react by convention or by expectations related to the institutional setting. Circumlocutive genres, such as a pact story with a decree for example, present the institutional authority of the one who formulates the pact. This authority is reflected in the performative language use. It explains the lack of urgency or directive language use, since the setting takes away the need to convince the addressee. The addressee is bound to abide by a decree of the lineage leader by convention, due to the performative authority of this leader. Third, implied in the expressed contrast is the impact of language in the situation of its use. The use of reproaches, for example, immediately activates the animosity between speaker and hearer and requires an instantaneous reaction. Directive genres seem to have in common that addressees are expected to react immediately. For example riddles express the expectation that an answer be provided; church songs that a meeting be joined; party songs that the listeners join the drink or the dance; work orders that they are executed in the preparation of a meal or the finalisation of a trip. Pastoral instructions are expressed in parables & other language from the pulpit and finally circumcision songs express the expectation that the novices will endure the pain. In contrast, non-directive genres have in common that they pursue long-term purposes. Medical information is given for the establishing of primary health care while cultural documentation59 provides ‘food for thought’ regarding changes in society, as the text excerpt in section 7.2.4.3 illustrates. Life stories are used for establishing acquaintance with inhabitants of other villages, while various story genres and proverbs are used to teach the application of cultural values. Non-directive genres therefore represent monologues where the immediate reaction of the addressee is not considered. This long term goal is in clear contrast with the immediate need expressed in directive genres. In conclusion it seems that all directive genres represent an urgent need to obtain reactions from the addressee(s). A contrastive analysis clarifies that genres without urgent appeal to the addressee tend to specify any presented information elaborately, reflecting an absence of urgency. This either may be the result of the use of conventions that give the speaker authority and bind the addressee to react to the text, or it may result from the long term-impact that the non-directive genre is intended to have on the addressee; rendering any immediate reaction irrelevant.

7.2.3.5 Excerpts with Directive Communication in a Party Song60

The following dance song illustrates common appeals that are expressed in directive language use (dance songs are a sub-genre to party songs):

-slng- nd -sm na-w-na an -ngbala? CL-peanut-VOC INT CL-mine IPF.1SG-OP3SG-see at CL-road 1. My peanut, did I see it on the road?

58This is in contrast with the absence of performative features in the genres on the righthand side of table 6.6: idiomatic expressions are consistently absent in embedded proverbs; whereas optatives, past participles and habituals are consistently absent in genealogies and oath vocatives in agreements. 59Medical information represents primary health care with its focus on long-term prevention of illnesses and cultural documentation represents information to help the younger relative choose a suitable marriage candidate with focus on long-term prevention (of choosing a candidate among the members of the own clan). 60From an obscure party song on tape 17 text 77 recorded after the committee meetings in 1992 in Ibambi when a certain Mr. Madupa sang the song. Some party songs are used specifically at beer drinking parties. These songs are referred to as makyp ‘beer.’ Most party songs are used during dancing parties tamba organised at special occasions (marriage, a group of children obtaining a secondary school diploma, etc).

280

Wo-se-ni I-na Bagbl.Wa-t-tamb n Bagbl. 2SG-go-COND IMP-see NAME IPF.2SG-NEG-joke ADD NAME 2. If you go, watch out for Bagbolo, you shouldn’t make fun of the people of Bagbolo.

dh Bagbl ba-waa ddd, ba-waa i-singo. for NAME IPF.3PL-kill IDEOPH IPF.3PL-kill CL-neck (SW) 3. For the people of Bagbolo kill, doh-doh-doh, they break the neck.

O-ko-bié-ni k jn n m, PF.3SG-HAB-be-COND not REMOTE.PAST ADD me 4. If in former days it wouldn’t have been with me…

Dh amb a-bundo mu-tindi. For then.IRR IPF.3SG-break CL-foot 5. For in case one breaks a foot,

Dh amb an ak a-mu-yomo ee! for then.IRR who there IPF.3SG-OP3SG–straighten O ! whoever could straighten it, Oh?!

Na-puno ee, ti–napa ee, mayadee chingichi. IPF.1SG-angry O OPT.1PL-forget O tralala tralali 6. I am angry, Oh, let’s forget about it, tralali, tralala !

This particularly obscure dancing song addresses the hearer in a new vocative with a noun: ‘peanut’.61 In line 1 the emphatic use of the noun as vocative is reinforced by Object Prefix -w- in reference to the same slng ’single peanut’. This emphatic language use characterises the directive language use in party songs. The conciseness of presentation is characteristic for urgent appeals and can be observed from other language use as well: use of lexical remote past jn instead of a temporal adverbial; lack of adverbials to specify time or place except the road in line 1; lack of any other specifications in the form of attributive adjectives or quantifiers. The interrogative particle nd in line 1 and the interrogative pronoun an ak ‘whoever’ in line 5 express a directness that supports this urgency. Also the lack of associative constructions in this language use reflects an urgency of expression (there is no time for mere description). Atypical for directive language use is the repeated use of subordinated verb forms in this dance song. The use of conditionals co-occur with the Swahili loan word isingo ‘neck’ and with verb forms that distinguish performative language use such as the optative and the habitual. This distinction is reinforced by the playful reference to ‘death’ in combination with the name of a certain village. In normal language use this could be interpreted as accusation of murder or at least as expression of hostility towards village inhabitants of Bagbolo. In the context of parties with dance, the allusion to performative language use is merely playful.62 Another dimension that is reflected in the song is the second dimension with distinctions of implicit language use, following from the shared cultural knowledge by the participants in the party. The excerpt discussed in this section illustrates that several dimensions of variation can be reflected in one particular genre. For an overview of the extent to which genres are, on the average, reflecting various dimensions see table 7.8.

61The final ‘vocative’ formation with– is apparently productive with nouns like ‘peanut.’ Another, more specific word for peanut is ibhotóbó, (li-) ‘empty peanut shell’ or ‘shell with an undeveloped seed in it.’ Its use as an address occurs in the language that mocks persons who do not contribute to agricultural activities or to other group activities. In this song a more neutral name for ‘peanut’ is used. 62In group celebrations at parties, allusions to performative language are used teasingly (compare the language use of the gboso ‘curse’ at the party in the excerpt from the trickster story in section 7.2.2.4).

281

7.2.3.6 Excerpt with Directive Communication in a Prayer

The following excerpt from a prayer illustrates the expression of mitigation, which characterises appeals that are directed to the Creator. Prayers are a sub-genre of parables & pulpit speech. See line 2, where the mitigation particle -s ‘first’ follows a first person verb form to politely indicate that the speaker only attempts to appear in Gods presence without assuming to be accepted there:

T-lmba Mungu A-bhaa, Mungu Mw-aná, Mungu M-tmá W--ta-tú; OPT.1PL-pray (SW) God (SW) CL-father God (SW) CL-child God (SW) CL-hear CL-of-ADI-clean 1. Let’s pray to God the Father, God the Child and God the Clean Heart ,

T-k batá-s nekuba ng-y-k a-p ng-ya-s, OPT.1PL-come again-MOD day DET-CL-here at-front DET-REL-yours 2. Allow us to come again today in your presence,

N-w ak-bhíbh-íso aka a-k w- pma-k-ia ng-y-s. ADD-you PROG-praise-CAUS here at-top CL-of protect-REP-APL DET-REL-yours 3. in order to praise you now for your continuous protection,

Dh n-àbùtú ta-ki-súo ngbanga nd m-nda For ADD-night IPF.1PL.existential-HAB- later likewise as CL-corps 4. For each night we are going to be like corpses,

Yákamngana w-t-pma-k-a. nevertheless PF-2SG-OP1PLHAB-protect-REP-APL however, you protected us constantly.

Ta n-w a-nta ta, IPF.1PL.be ADD-you to.INF-pray now 5. We are asking you now

b bio h n-s a b-isi b- ta-b-y ng-ba; that be.IMP together ADD-us at CL-day CL-of ADI-pass-PTC DET-CL that you be with us at this coming day,

a-matí ta ki bomu, ng-ya ta--ka. At-inside of work also all DET-REL IPF.1PL-OP3SG-do 6. During all the work that we will do.

I-bomu ak i-no y- Ys... Y-a ban. CL-all in CL-name CL-of Jesus CL-is so. 10. Everything in the name of Jesus, Amen.

In line 1 three vocatives are used to appeal to God with his tripartite Budu name.63 Other directive features are the use of the imperative in line 5: ‘be with us,’ the use of second person possessives in line 2: ‘your presence,’ and in line 3: ‘your continuous protection;’ the Perfect in line 4: ‘you constantly protected us’ in combination with first plural Imperfect verbs in line 2: ‘we come;’ in line 4: ‘we are going to be;’ in line 5: ‘we are asking you’ and finally the subordinated ‘we will do’ in line 6.

63The reference is to the Creator, His human Son and His Holy Spirit in allusion to formulaic blessings spoken at the end of church services.

282 Line 2 has an expression of mitigation attached to the request to emphasize the permission that the addressee needs to give before the speaker can indeed come. This modal particle is characteristic for directive language use. In line 3 the moment of prayer is explicitly indicated as ta ‘now’. No temporal adverbial is used since the appeal is expressed with urgency. Verbal aspect is expressed by verb morphology: the derivation that marks repetition glossed REP and habitual verb prefix in line 4. No adverbs were used to express what the translation indicates as ‘constantly’ (line 3) and continuously (line 4). The absence of adverbs, gerunds, conditionals, temporal clauses with the affix - and associative constructions is significant for the urgency of the requests expressed in prayer. Only in the last line the idiomatic expression ‘in the name of Jesus’ contains an associative construction. This closing formula and the use of three temporal adverbials is not typical for directive language use; see line 2 ‘today;’ line 4 ‘at night;’ and line 5 ‘at this coming day’. It reflects the formulaic language that is used in performative speech, as discussed in section 7.2.6. Texts from directive genres do not necessarily exhibit the significant use of each variable; nevertheless the prayer above exhibits a clear example of the language use that is characteristic for urgent appeals by its directive features.

7.2.3.7 Excerpt with Directive Communication in a Recipe64

Similarly, the following excerpt with a recipe is not typical for directive language use since it includes some gerunds. (Recipes are a sub-genre of work orders). However, its use of second person forms, imperatives, and vocatives in co-occurrence with the adverbial clitic for mitigation characterise the following text as typically directive:

O-bi–eni wo-sokuo l-bg w-ka ta n u-mbundo. Wo-necho. GER -be -GER CONS.2SG–take.out CL -banana CONS.2SG-do now ADD CL-palm.oil CONS.2SG -mash 26. Taking the bananas out (of the cooking pot) you now put them in palm oil. You mash (them).

W-pnga-s ak-napiokio gue ng-a a-s n ba-bhika CONS.2SG–start-first PROG-collect man DET-REL CL-yours and CL-guests 27. First you begin collecting your husband and the guests there,

ng-ba-ab ba-bio h na-y. W-maya-ka a-matí saán. DET–REL –ANAPH CL-be together ADD-him CONS.2SG-enter-REP at-inside of plate (SW) 28. whoever happens to be together with him. 29. Only then, you divide it on the plates.

W-sa na-y a-ni-njo aki ak bhasa. Wo-napiokio ta ba-ná. CONS2SG-go ADD-him to-INF-give there in ‘bhasa’ CONS.2SG-collect now CL-children 30. You leave in order to give it to him there in the bhasa shelter. 31. after which now you collect the children.

The described procedures include an arbitrary use of adjectives or associative constructions. Most associative markers are part of prepositional phrases as in line 29 ‘on the plates’. The descriptions are concise, as gerunds are only used to indicate the order of the procedures: bananas can be mashed only after having been drained from boiling water (line 26) and fried. Recipes are given on the spot and thereby reflect the context of production; see for example the adverbial ta ‘now’ in line 26, which, in combination with the consecutive verb form, indicates the right moment for the main action in this recipe. In line 26 ‘frying bananas’ is the reason they are ‘taken out of

64This excerpt has the (closing) fragment of a recipe for manioc leaves with cooking bananas by Mrs. Embiani on tape 22.

283 the cooking pot’ before they are to be ‘mashed’. The ‘frying’ is therefore indicated with a verb form that has adverbial ta ‘now’ attached to it. This use of the consecutive suggests a hierarchy in the procedures, which is not necessarily a chronological one (cf. section 3.5.2.12). In line 27 the speaker anticipates several steps ahead of the immediate situation to indicate the order in which a cook is to serve the meal. Work orders present the procedures that are to be followed in chronological order, with the mitigation marker indicating the main action to be accomplished.65 Line 27 is an example where the auxiliary supports the emphasis on the order of the meal serving: first adults are invited to the meal, only after the food is served to the adults are the children called to dinner. The excerpts in 7.2.3.6 and 7 illustrate the importance of the mitigation particle in directive language use. With first or second person optatives it may express a request, as in the prayer, and in co-occurrence with imperatives and consecutives it may indicate main orders to which projected procedures are subordinated, as in the work order. The multifunctionality of the mitigation particle in both directive texts results in the frequent use of -s ‘first,’ contributing to its role as distinctive feature.

7.2.3.8 Conclusion about Directive Communication in Budu

In Budu directive interaction is reflected in language use that is distinctively non-elaborate, expressing appeals to addressees and containing other situational references in a shared context of production. The distinctive conciseness of such appeals can be explained from the urgent need for instantaneous reactions. In contrast, non-directive genres are characterised by circumlocutive descriptions. Distinctions of directive language use express a focus on the immediate reaction of the addressee(s). A lack of appeals may reflect a certain reticence of speakers to express, even in the slightest way, any expectation concerning the reaction of the addressee. Most non-directive texts provide specific information to influence the addressee(s) in the long term; as seems to be the case with information regarding, for instance, a balanced diet, while directive texts express an immediate expectation regarding the addressee; as seems to be the case in, for instance, instructions to put food on the fire in recipes (work orders). A parameter of expressing the need for immediate reaction could be established in relation to the third dimension of variation of Budu language use.

7.2.4 Community-Involved Language Use vs. Language Use without Community Involvement

In this section the continuum of language distinguished for the fourth dimension is discussed and the contrast between the distinguished sets of genres is analysed. The fourth-largest distinction observed in the researched corpus exists between community-involved and community-not-involved genres. In chapter 5 the distinction was interpreted as reflecting the contrast between group language and individual expression forms. This was because its co-occurring forms affirm the presence of others in the context of production, reflecting a fellowship that is characteristic of group celebrations. Particular distinctions involve community members by resuming shared values or by invoking cultural knowledge (see section 5.2.4.2 and appendix 5.D).

65The mitigation particle -s ‘first’ is used in its literal sense asking to do something prior to other actions. In work orders imperatives and mitigation markers mark the mainline procedures, while consecutive verbs without adverbial particles mark the background information.

284 The cluster of co-occurring features distinguishes songs and storytelling sessions from individual monologues, suggesting a contrast between group language and individual expression. A contrastive analysis is meant to further investigate the nature of this contrast. Fifteen forms co-occur in the cluster distinguishing community involvement. The cluster exhibits some similarities with directive language use. A shared context of production is important in both dimensions of communication. However, unlike directive language use, involvement is primarily positively distinguished. Only three of the fifteen distinctive features of involvement are negative. This implies that language used in involved genres is relatively free and that it may include virtually any form.66 There are only three restrictions, as any text without the co-occurrence of gerunds, short infinitives and verbal negation is distinctively ‘involved’. The significant absence of these three forms in some genres conveys communication in which the community is not involved. If a text is distinguished as ‘involved,’ it may arbitrarily include all kind of forms. Community involvement represents a major distinction, which is significant, because no language described so far reflects community involvement in distinguished ways, manifesting a particular variation of language use for group involvement.67 In the following analysis community involvement is considered the main aspect of the distinguished contrast. Since only plural second person pronouns directly express attempts to involve the community of addressees, the set of distinguished genres is essential in the functional interpretation of the cluster. Therefore, as an exception, table B is presented prior to table A in this section:

7.2.4.1 Two Distinguished Sets of Genres

Table 7.5B the sets of genres distinguished by involvement; (group celebration in bold, group sessions in italics) no community involvement: involvement of the community: proverbs church songs drama individual songs (mourning songs; lullabies) riddles and small stories re. facts of nature party songs (wedding songs; dance songs; drinking songs) circumcision songs cultural documentation and genealogies work orders (travel instructions; recipes; advice) pact stories (with thoughts, decrees and guarantees) medical information ghost stories (with (dis)agreements and story songs) parables incl. pulpit speech (prayers; blessings) animal stories (with agreements and reproaches) life stories and reported personal experiences trickster stories (with guarantees and reproaches)

Most stories and all songs appear on the righthand side, representing the positively distinguished genres. The distinguished genres have in common that they exhibit community celebrations and not the mere face-to-face interaction that language use in riddles, drama, and work orders on the lefthand side reflect. Only parables and life stories represent group sessions, in which the entire community is involved, representing exceptions on the lefthand side. Parables & other pulpit speech were considered

66It also can be interpreted as reflecting the small amount of occasions in Budu culture where the need arises to explicitly distinguish non-involved language use. 67Closest to the distinction ‘Community involvement vs. Non-involved communication’ is the third dimension in Nukulaelae. Besnier (1988) interprets the third dimension in Polynesian Nukulaelae as ‘multi-party versus monologic construction of texts,’ however; in Nukulaelae texts community involvement functions as condition to the production that is unrelated to celebrations. This difference with Budu, where community involvement is not related to production but to celebration, is most clear from the different features that operate as distinctive forms in both co-occurrences (the Nukulaelae and the Budu clusters). Nukulaelae has yes-no questions; WH- questions, and direct quotes as positive distinctions of multi-party Construction of texts. It has word length; subordinators and prepositions as negative distinctions. (see Biber 1995:177)

285 as one genre without community involvement, not reflecting church meetings where the congregation is involved by language use particular to blessings or prayers; denoted therefore in the left column. In contrast, church songs on the righthand side reflect these meetings. In parables and drama exhortation occurs in with other distinctions of not-involved communication, therefore it is included in the genres on the lefthand side. Riddle stories are told within small peer groups with several children, often in face-to- face communication. The sections about the functional interpretation of this contrast are more elaborate and include more culturally specific details, because no other language described so far is manifesting a particular variation of language use for group involvement with cluster of co-occurring distinctions. In contrast to chapter 5, where the first step in the functional interpretation was based on the most common function shared by the co-occurring forms, this chapter describes the second step that is based on similarities and differences between the genres involved. Any information about the individual genres in this chapter is provided to facilitate this second step in the functional interpretation of co-occurring cluster.

7.2.4.2 Contrastive Analysis of the Two Distinguished Sets of Genres

A further investigation of the contrasting genres is intended to analyse the distinction in more detail, considering also cultural information about the distinguished language use. In table 7.5B the three genres proverbs, riddles and drama are used to express individual evaluations regarding social issues. It is striking that all such genres, which were labelled as ‘wisdom genres’ in section 4.1, appear on the lefthand side. In contrast to community involvement, wisdom genres represent individual reflection, although their formulation may stir group discussion. Although proverbs for example typically occur during palavers, they express the final remark of experienced community members. These elders evaluate the particular social case under discussion by an individual, short and witty remark, quoting a proverb. Similarly drama also is a genre that forms, almost in a literal sense, a platform where the personal view of the script writer on society can be demonstrated. This individual opinion represents the expression of possibly new insights, which are, however, only implicit in sequences of scenic interaction. Most genres on the lefthand side represent the verbal exchanges between two individuals. Work orders is a genre that entails practical instruction and moral advice by older relatives.68 Life stories represent individual expression with personal reflection. Cultural documentation is produced on request, although more recently the genre has started to be used in print for school going children who are no longer automatically exposed to this transmission of knowledge.69 Short riddle stories and pact stories are primarily educative genres that are used for interaction with young relatives.70 Nevertheless, although particularly joke-pact-stories represent ‘face-to-face’ exchanges, the fun depends on shared knowledge. Since this shared knowledge is distinguished by the language use in community-involved pact stories, the genre appears on the righthand side of the overview.

68In the discussion of the recipe in section 7.2.3.7, the fine line between work orders and moral advice became obvious, as the recipe included a prescription of the way to serve a meal in an orderly way. 69Cf. the remarks of Awedoba 2003:38 concerning the diffusion of genres in relation to mobility. He quotes several authors who assume that a greater interest in some indigenous genres results from mobility per se. In contrast to the authors he quotes, he argues that mobility never led to the diffusion of riddles, at least not in the case of exogamous marriages of the Kasena in Ghana in the past. In Budu mobility seems to have led to a greater interest in the diffusion of some genres, like riddles and cultural documentation. 70Some positive distinctions of community involvement function as negative distinctions of explicit information (object prefix, interjections; see the discussion of the second dimension). The use of these expressions reflects a shared world knowledge that is assumed in group celebrations. This assumption of shared knowledge is typical for pact stories as well, although this genre exhibits only arbitrary use of most positive distinctions.

286 A correspondence can be observed between implicit language use and community-involved communication, while all non-involved genres are explicit in nature. The only deviations from this correspondence are drama and parables & other pulpit speech. These represent open categories with a hybrid nature, as was remarked in the introduction to section 7.2, commenting on table 7.2. In conclusion, the positively distinguished genres reinforce community values, whereas the negatively distinguished genres represent language use with an individual expression of the opinions of community members.

7.2.4.3 Excerpt without Community Involvement in Cultural Documentation71

To illustrate the use of language without community involvement an example of cultural documentation is provided now. The genre of the following text functions as a newspaper column, observing developments in society about which it expresses an opinion to stir the thoughts of the readership. The genre is also distinguished for its lack of directive language use, since it rather aims for a long-term impact on the addressee(s), providing ‘food for thought’. The following excerpt is taken from a short text that was edited in 2001 by a writers’ collective. The ‘community house’ bhasa is described as the male centre for interaction. All genre names in this excerpt refer to conventional situations of public language use. They were underlined and numbered because of their relevance in relation to the topic of this chapter. Cultural information about related genres can be found in appendix 7A, where the same numbers are used. For expository reasons this excerpt is presented in two parts. The text provides an example of ‘individual expression,’ as it presents an opinion about the vanishing institution of the community house:

bhasa – the house of social ‘know-how’ (káa y nmbmbánaka ak ubéí w kmb)

Bhasa a -káa ng-y y- –kmb Bhasa 3SG.be CL-house DET-REL CL-of CL-village 1. The ‘bhasa’ is that community house

y- bu-wólo jonokio y- ba-gue b- -kmb; CL-of CL-seating meet CL-of CL –men CL-of CL-village. where men’s gatherings are seated.

A-ni-njo-no ma-sa; n-dya-kaka a-tta ba-bhika. to-INF-give-REC CL- news INF-feed –REP-RED to-welcome CL-guests 2. to exchange news matters1, to eat meals and welcome guests2.

Ba-gue ba-bomu bo-bi-jono-k-io CL-men CL -all PF.3PL –HAB-meet.REP-APL 5. The men used to meet each other

ak bhasa ma-sa n kwa–nana-k–íso in bhasa CL-news and explain–REC-REP-CAUS with news and explanations3 in the bhasa.

71This text was written at a writers workshop in Ibambi in 1999 by Banagaa Athoo, Bukwedu, Oginyo Mathias and Bako Idey.

287 Y-aká ye-ni-sío tá ak bhasa. CL-word CL.OPT.HAB-finish just in bhasa 6. It is only in the bhasa that matters be determined.

Ba-gue b- -kmb, b-aná b- ba-ndamb CL- men CL -of CL-village CL-child CL-of CL-young-man 7. where village men and very young males

b-n-ka- ma-pan, ma-dhuba, mi-genú, y-aká i-bomu 3PL .OPT.HAB-hear-RAF CL- law, CL-debate, CL-story, CL-word CL -all may hear instructions4, palavers5 stories6. 8. every word

ng-y y- n-mbmbánaka ak u-béí ng–wa w- –kmb DET-REL CL-of CL-wisdom to CL-life DET-REL CL-of CL–village of wisdom about life7, the life of the village community.

Mw-aná ng-ya a-ng-wolo-ko km jn ak bhasa CL -child DET-REL IPF3SG.NEG.IPF-sit -REP not PAST in bhasa 9. Someone who never used to sit in the ‘bhasa’ as child,

a-k-mba km y -kym PF.3SG-NEGPF-know not him CL-anything such a person has not learned anything.

a-n-natakana-ka ta mudhubu. Dh a-n-y To-HAB-turn-INT now foolish for IPF.3SG-HAB him 10. He has become foolish now. 11. For he personally wasn’t ever used

kpat-ana-ka km b-s. M-onu ma-bomu ko-ni-sío ak bhasa follow -REF–REP not CL- father CL-word CL-all PF.CL–HAB-finish in ‘bhasa’ to follow the fathers. 12. Every matter is determined in the ‘bhasa’:

Bhua m-skana -gn, m-paka, y-áka y- i-ngwo... meeting of CL–marriage CL-circumcision CL-distribution CL- word CL-of CL- death 13. Wedding8dates, circumcision9festivities, the distribution10 of the goods (of a widow), funerals11.

Ak a-bibeo bhasa k ban a-nmba b-ombí PROG CL-praise meeting.place too thus to.INF-inform CL-person 14. Regarding the virtues of the meeting place, it is indeed the way to inform

tá k ba-bomu n ma-no k- ba-bhika just too CL-all ADD CL-name CL-of CL-guest just everybody about the names of any guests12,

In line 1; the bhasa is introduced as the centre of encounters between all village men.72 Note the use of the short infinitives, which feature non-involved language use. The infinitives in line 2 explain the goals of the encounters. Lines 3 and 4 are omitted from the excerpt. In them it is explained that villages once had only one bhasa ‘meeting place’. This place was built next to the house of the most important community

72The central role of the males (see the repeated mention of gender in line 1, 5, 7 and 10) reflects their role in the patriarchal Budu society. In the social organisation of Budu villages, women are merely refered to as an indication of the lineage of individuals, maternal uncles determining the line of descent.

288 leader.73 The authors seem to suggest in line 12 that ‘all that matters to the community’ are decided in the village meeting place; and ‘only there,’ as line 6 suggests. The meetings of the village men can therefore be compared to the ‘parliament’ of this most important male. ‘Decision-making’ sío, is one of the purposes of the interaction in the bhasa, with the authors’ emphasis on verbal communication. In lines 9 and 10, ‘sitting in the bhasa’ while ‘following’ verbal explanations of community life by ‘the fathers’ of the village, seems essential to understand ‘anything’ pertaining to social life or even to acquire any ‘wisdom’ nmbmbánaka. The repeated negation emphasizes this statement. Apparently the explanations concern no aspects of community life that can be observed, as line 9 suggests: their communication is a sine qua non regarding social know-how. Verbal communication of social knowledge is represented by the underlined names of genres that are used in public in the ‘village centre’ bhasa. Therefore line 7 mentions the bhasa as the place where young men are introduced to community life. The authors emphasize two goals of this verbal communication: first, the organisation of power, indicated in the lines 6 and 12 with sío ‘determine’ concerning village matters, and second, as mentioned in line 8, the transmission of ‘knowledge’ nmbmbánaka.74 More lines from the text above are now provided, to illustrate the expression of individual opinions by the authors:

Bbn, bhasa a–mb ti batá -káa Today bhasa 3SG-NEGIPF no longer CL-house 15. Today, the ‘bhasa’ no longer is the house

ng-y y- n-mbmbánaka,ak u-béí w- -kmb. DET–REL CL-of CL-knowledge in CL-life CL -of CL –village of knowledge concerning community life.

Bhasa a-nata-ka-na-ka títa -káa y- n-mwa ma-kyp, bhasa IPF.3SG-turn-INT– RED -INT now CL -house CL-of to.INF-drink CL-palm.wine 16. The ‘bhasa’ developed into a house for drinking13palm wine.

B-náa ba-sa nngbá, b-ka ta ak bhasa. CL-women IPF.3PL-leave courtyard PF.3PL-come now in bhasa. 17. Women left the courtyard, they recently started to visit the bhasa.

Mu-jonokio w- bhasa wa-mbi ti batá u-dó, CL –gathering CL-of bhasa CL-NEGIPF no longer CL-good, 18. Meeting in the ‘bhasa’ is no longer correct,

73This man is called the mbaa. Czeckanowski (1924:293) reports about the information he obtained from his Budu porters in 1907 during his botanical trip in Ituri. This Polish explorer (like Red Cross agent Lambrecht 1994:47 about his stay in Budu area in 1946) also personally observed how one club house, as Czeckanowski calls the bhasa, was built ‘on the cleared soil in the village centre which is kept very clean’, in between the houses of the village elder mbaa and his wives. This cleared soil still exists around the bhasa and is still kept very clean (the root mbaa is related to ‘clearness and moonlight’), and its name is still used to refer to the political institution of a clan leader that used to lead the village community (Mukonji 1984). The mbaa leaders lost their social importance when Belgian-appointed chiefs took over some of their tasks during the colonial occupation. Farmers, who in pre-colonial days used to move their entire village in the search for more fertile soil (with intervals of seven to ten years), started to partly rely on the new cash economy and no longer solely depended on agriculture for survival. The previous text explains in line 3 and 4 (not included in the excerpt), that nowadays the more permanent settlements have one bhasa for every important household. 74Relatively recently the organisation of power and the transmission of knowledge were analysed in ethnolinguistic approaches of literacy as the main factors that explain developments of public language use (Street (1993) and Verhoeven (1994)). The writers of this text, which continues about the changes in the community, emphasise these particular factors of change.

289

dh tá ta ba-mata-na-k-. B-ombí ba-panjana títa b Waaa!, for just now IPF.3PL-mix-REC-RED-PTC CL-people IPF.3PL-scatter now like IDEOPH for the attendants are now just mixed up. 19. Nowadays people are scattered like here and there and everywhere.

B-ang-ka (k)m batá ma-pan a-bhasa. IPF.3PL–NEG.IPF-listen not again CL- law in- bhasa. 20. They don’t listen to instructions14 any more in the bhasa.

Similar to the fragment above,75 the lines 15 and 16 with their short infinitives exhibit features of community-uninvolved language use, like the negation in line 19 (and also in line 15). Although, on average, these subordinated verb forms occur significantly in cultural documentation this excerpt has no conditionals or gerunds. In contrast, the past participle in line 18 is highly unusual, its absence being significant for non- involved communication.76 Ba-matanak starts with a subject prefix referring to persons, whose presence is supposed to ‘confuse,’ ‘mix’ or ‘disturb’ meetings, as the verb root mata indicates. In this text ‘disturbance’ is assumedly caused by both sexes being together in the same place. The choice of a participle instead of an attributive adjective to describe the quality of the ‘meetings’ mujonokio can be interpreted as intentional emphasis, since it allows the authors to underline the role of the agents, which, in combination with line 17, seems to suggest that this marked emphasis refers solely to women that ‘left their cooking fires’ bnáa basa nngbá.. In line 17, the reference to the nngbá ‘courtyard,’ and to the women’s fire represents the cultural opposite of the public meeting place and its fire,77 which used to be an exclusively male domain.78 Rather than blaming women as initiators of all confusion, the authors mention a complex interplay of, in line 16: ‘palm wine’ drinking, in line 17: ‘women’ that ‘freely enter’ the meetings, and, in: line 20 male negligence of ‘the organisation of community life’ as men spend their time ‘drinking’ ‘without listening to instructions’. The topic of the sole meeting place, which occurred in the omitted lines 3 and 4, is picked up in line 19. There the authors seem to suggest that, in contrast to former times, ‘modern people live in scattered fellowships,’ away from the traditional communities. An increasing number of individuals move away from their home village. Concluding, the authors suggest that the decreased role of the bhasa as a socio-political centre results from a complex of factors including mobilisation and urbanisation.

75In particularly the lines 9 and 11 have six short infinitives and they exhibit negation. 76These deviations illustrate that no single text represents the statistical average of the genre. 77In contrast to the female courtyard fire the male bhasa fire is not used to prepare food. It merely provides dryness in the damp rain forest, preventing hunters who return from the forest from getting chilled when sitting still. One woman is assigned the task of lighting the bhasa fire each morning as she sweeps the meeting place. 78In 2001 the bhasa apparently was no longer perceived as the male centre of knowledge and power (line 7, 8 and 12) of former days. The significance of excluding women from the bhasa is best understood from a comparison with neighbouring cultures, where the exclusiveness of male gatherings is underlined by ritual gatherings with their own fireplace. First, the neighbouring Mbo also distinguish two types of fire, associated with male-female connotations. This closely-related Bantu group calls their male community houses di ‘manhood, blood-brotherhood’ (Towles 1993b:56). Similar to Budu men, Mbo eat in the village house, together with their friends, while women eat in private around their own cooking fire dyalá (same word as in Budu) on their own courtyard, as customary among the Mbo in order to avoid any suspicion of women mixing any magical substance with their husband’s food. (In contrast, in Budu culture the custom for men and women to eat separately is merely explained as a matter of shame. ‘It would be a shame if a man sees his mother-in-law eating’ (personal communication with several Budu speakers). Second, the Pygmy men have their own fire place, and its exclusiveness is emphasized during the most important ceremony (Turnbull 1960 in Towles 1993:56), when it is, at the height of the so-called molimo, scattered by invading women. Third, the Lese farmers also have a strong association of cooking fires and females as Grinker describes in several parts of his book (1994).

290 Typical of the expression in non-involved language use is the formulation of the opinion of speakers with individual emphasis to stir further thoughts. This individual emphasis not necessarily represents everybody in the community. The order of remarks in the fragment above seems to suggest in line 20 that failure to listen to instructions by community leaders is related to the increased social mobility that is referred to in line 19. This failure presents a threat to the group harmony at a time when the village community is already scattering, as the rest of the text explains (not quoted here). Village elders in urbanised communities no longer have an overview of all the children in the community as they study for longer periods at a distance from the village while attending school. This change in society is not mentioned by the authors, who instead emphasise the negative role of women. In contrast to drunken women, the role of urbanized women who take care of the school children of their relatives in the village can be considered as positive. That their contribution to decisions regarding community life is facilitated by a new social centre of village life, namely the church, is left unnoticed. The bhasa text with its negative remarks concerning women illustrates the presentation of an individual perspective on recent developments in the community as it is characteristic for ‘community-not-involved’ language use.

7.2.4.4 Excerpts with Community Involvement in Church Songs79

Church songs may contain the endless repetition of a single line, as was illustrated in the section on non-connective presentation under the first parameter. The next song line is similar, as it is repeated with several variations:

s t-a n -gyagyá ak-jono-k-io. We IPF.1PL-are ADD CL-joy to-meet-REP-APL We have joy in meeting (each other).

Nd na-twa an and-n ak-bukúo b-ang bukuo-ní. When IPF.2PL.return to at-yours to-greet CL-others greet-PAS.PTC When you will return home, (you will have joy) really greeting (i.e. with news to share) the others.

The participle form provides an emphasis that is used in attempts to involve the addressee(s). The following church song is a more elaborate example of community-involved language use. Among the various public genres mentioned in the excerpt in section 7.2.4.3, no church related genres were mentioned. Since church songs are distinguished by the fourth cluster as well, this genre at the extreme positive end of this continuum is discussed here. In Budu society the role of church-related genres is associated with social life and its organisation. Their language use is distinguished by attempts to involve the community. The bhasa text brought to attention that the main factors that determine public life, namely the organisation of power and the transmission of knowledge, are no longer centralised with the village elders. In present day society these factors seem to be increasingly represented by the church community; with 80% of the population regularly attending church services (see appendix 2A). This shift of preponderance is clearly illustrated by the content of the following church song80, which refers to the church community with the Budu word for village kmb. Therefore, by exception, the content of this song will be discussed after an analysis of the language:

Ik-éni ak-kumonio -kmb y- tamba-n, bá-bhaa k ba-bomu! IMP.come-PL PROG-enter CL-village CL-of prepare-PAS CL- father also CL- all 1. Come enter the prepared village, 2. all you fathers too.

79This excerpt is taken from a church song 33 by Mr. Nebholo is recorded on tape 27. 80This excerpt is taken from a church song sung by Manzimba – Bokwa, edited in church songbook no. 36, recorded on tape 27 as well.

291 -kmb, ng-y ak, y-a-k-gwak-io b-ombí, CL-village DET-REL above CL-IPF-HAB-take-APL CL-people 3. The village above is taking in the people one by one;

ng-a ba-bháya ngámá Yeso DET-sort PF.3PL-believe chief Jesus. that sort of people who believe chief Jesus.

B-ombí ng-a ba-bháya m-waná Asb. Basse: CL-people DET-sort PF.3PL- believe CL-child God Bas.voice 4. That sort of people who believe the Son of God. (Bass voice:)

A-yóo, m-tmá ng-wa-sm; CL-friend CL- heart DET-REL-mine 5. Friend, a ghost enslaved my heart

a-bh a-u-tubho jn bb. CL-ghost PF.3SG–OP3SG-enslave past badly in the past in a terrible way.

Nd s tá-jn n ngámá Yeso, m na-pa tá b-ha. IRR we IPF.1PL-meet ADD chief Jesus, me IPF.1SG-see just CL-restoration 6. When we will meet with chief Jesus, I will get complete restoration.

A-na-hé-íso, a-yóo a-tà-mu-dó! Ngámá w- ba-ngámá-ee! IPF.3SG-OP1SG- heal-CAUS CL-friend CL-ADI- CL- good Chief CL-of CL- chief ee! 7. He will heal me, the good circumcision partner! Oh, Chief of Chiefs!

ngámá a-ti-njo s Yeso, m-waná áng! Oh! chief PF.3SG-OP1PL–give us Jesus, CL-child his 8. Oh! This chief gave us Jesus, his child.

In line 1, vocatives are used to express a polite appeal to all ‘fathers’ bábhaa followed in line 5 by a more intimate appeal to the listeners with ayóo ‘friend; circumcision partner’. The community of church attending people is invited. The idiomatic expression Ngámá w bangámá ee ‘Chief of chiefs,’ is used also in an appeal in line 7.81 In line 3, the Habitual expresses the ongoing invitation to enter the community of believers. This form is a distinction of community-involved language, such as the Imperfect Future anaheíso ‘he will heal me’ in line 7. In line 3, the church-going people are described with an expression reminiscent of the Sunday- morning appeal announcing the church service. A talking drum ‘calls’ bombí nga babháya Asb ‘persons who believe in God’ followed by an exhortation to come prepared. The expression is indicative of the highly idiomatic language used in church. Also the word bha ‘restorations; salvation; healing’ that occurs in line 6, is often used in blessings or promises, while it is used in particular to refer to the future salvation of the soul.82 In line 5, the full noun mtmá ’heart’ refers to the object of the verb as OP –u-. The Object mtmá ’heart’ occurs sentence-initially. It represents reversed constituent order, being significant for performative speech.83 In co-occurrence with exclamations and emphatically used object prefixes, reversed order reflects a dramatic emphasis, which expresses attempts to involve the community of

81The final vowel indicates its use as a vocative, which is characteristic for this appeal for healing. 82Especially in combination with the verb pa ‘look at’ the expression is used in an eschatological sense. 83Other performative distinctions in this song are the long infinitive in line 1, the first Perfect and the Past Participle.

292 church attendees. Object Prefixes reflect a double reference to the Object and therefore tend to be used for emphatic references.84 In line 5, the verb tubhó is used to express discontent with a bad treatment by the ghost world; literally referring to the ‘pulling through dirt’ of a cloth of a hated enemy in order to offend him, expressive of the distrust towards ghosts. Idiomatic expressions are used throughout the song, emphasizing values that are shared by the community in order to involve its members. They thereby are an important distinctive feature of community-involved language use. In line 7, use of the term ayóo atàmudo ‘good circumcision partner’ similarly occurs as an idiomatic expression, which also distinguishes animal stories and circumcision songs,85 and is distinctive of the performative language use there. Ideophones do not usually occur in church songs, but exclamations occur frequently, for example in line 8. The expressed emphasis is typical of community-involved language use. With its repeated use of adverbs and attributive adjectives this church song is rather descriptive. Although it is not the most typical community-involved expression, it was nevertheless selected because its cultural expressions clarify the involvement of the community in church-related genres. The same song is now discussed with remarks about some cultural concepts which occur in it. Similar to the bhasa text of the excerpt in section 7.2.4.4, this song refers to ikmb. The term ikmb refers to both village community and village domain, including the forest area that is under the authority of its political leader ngámá. 86 In the song the church community is compared with the village society. Similarly the bond between fellow believers is compared to the bond between village members. Mutual obligations in the village community provide the protection that ensures group harmony (Vansina 1990:174).87 Likewise the social care in the church community provides a network. This partly clarifies why church songs reflect community-involved language use, while exploiting the very same idiomatic expressions. As comment on this song, more background information is now provided in order to explain the social and cultural importance of the church in community celebrations. In line 7, the term ‘Chief of chiefs’ is used to refer to the Creator. During the colonial epoch ngámá leaders started to be perceived as cruel and ruthless. However, preachers make use of this literal translation of the biblical expression ‘King of kings’. Cultural information may clarify the lexical choice of this particular idiom in line 7. Ngámá leaders had the responsibility for strategic protection of a geographical domain; a responsibility that could only be fulfilled by appeals to warriors in their domain of power. Instead of initiating armed attacks, some chiefs, in an extreme gesture of reconciliation to prevent further blood shedding, offered their own male child to be circumcised together with the sons of a hostile village. The common blood that was shed during the circumcision ceremony was consequently considered as symbol of the new start, the new birth of the circumcised in one social family, without animosities.88 In line 8 a reference is made to such a gift, where ‘the Chief of chiefs’ is praised for having given his son Jesus to the community. By this gift to the community, Jesus became the ‘ayóo’ friend or literally

84 In line 6 and 7 and in line 8 the objects –na- (1SG) and –ti- (1PL) are also indicated with personal pronouns (m and s), resulting in double reference to the participants. 85Other expressions that refer to Budu circumcision are the obscure formulaic exchange of exclamations: Lúgó? (answer:) Hóó! And: ápù? (answer:) Ch! (see appendix 5.E for more information about idiom). 86Ngámá is the Budu, Lese, Efe and Mbo name for a political leader. 87“The Mabodo (sic)… had maintained the old Bantu village and district organisations. The cohesion within the districts had been further enhanced as they developed strong segmentary lineages, bolstered by a special institution and ideology, embaa, a term referring to the principle of legitimate patrilineal succession and also designating a set of rituals, charms, and emblems related to it. Such objects were in charge of a keeper who had special political status. And so, even though their Houses were weaker, the Mabodo still fielded as many warriors as any enemy could muster’ (Vansina 1990:174). 88As a result the new circumcision partners (bayóo) and their relatives had to stop animosities and respect their new blood-brothers as if they were their siblings and their sisters as if they were their siblings with whom any sexual relations would be considered as incestuous.

293 ‘circumcision partner’ of the entire community. Essential to Budu circumcision practices is the collection of blood in a calabash. This blood, collected from the wounds that result from cutting the foreskins, used to be buried under the ‘banana tree of circumcision’ in Budu culture (Mbunzi 1992). The voluntary mixing of blood shed at one single event binds the circumcision partners together as brothers, even when they belong to different lineages or even different ethnic groups (Tegnaeus 1950). 89 Various Budu speakers explained to me that this bond is comparable to being born in one lineage, sharing the blood of a common ancestor. Jesus is considered to be sharing the community members’ human suffering as is symbolised in his blood sacrifice. ‘Good’ bayóo ‘circumcision partners’ never do each other any harm. They are even obliged to defend each other.90 In line 7 Jesus is praised as the defender of his circumcision partner ‘ayóo’ against the abuse of a hateful spirit that was mentioned in line 6. Despite the original hostility between the Omnipotent Ngámá and those who live in his realm of authority, which is the world, the blood of his son Jesus provided reconciliation for those who accept the offer of the ngámá ‘chief’91 and consequently consider themselves as circumcision brothers of his son and of each other. The cultural concepts that occur in this church song explain how social bonds between fellow believers are comparable to the bonds between members of co-allied lineages, where mutual obligations provide a protection that contributes to group harmony. There consequently are resemblances between the language use of church leaders in parables & other pulpit speech92 and the elaborate speeches of village leaders such as decrees or agreements.93 Similarly, church songs with their statements uttered between church members exhibit resemblances with declarations between siblings, for instance, the genres oaths & guarantees and circumcision songs.

7.2.4.5 Excerpt with Community Involvement in an embedded Agreement94

Consider the next lines from an embedded agreement, where the community decides to send a delegate to the chief:

T-idó b, m-ombí mnganá -sá-s -t-yáka-na-ka n Ngámá Mkk, Just-good that, CL-person CL-one OPT.3SG-go-MOD 3SG.CONS-talk-REC-REP ADD chief Mukoku 11. It would be good if one person goes and 12. then explains to chief Mukoku,

Ak dya-kaka ng--s dh skm ban ta-sio sio-ní. at-top of eat-REP-RED DET-CL-our for without such IPF.1PL-die die-PASPTC 13. concerning our (need of) eating, 14. for without such a thing we will surely die.

89This Scandinavian scholar provides an overview of the bloodpact in African cultures. He mentions the Budu as a people group who used circumcision to establish peace in the area (1950:156). 90For the kind of obligations that are observed see section 7.2.6.5. 91Or, as parable 6 on tape 1 in the researched corpus (Autani, January 1989) seems to say: “Jesus is the only way to be accepted by the Ngámá God. This way is open for those who abide by his instructions without attempts to please him their own way.” This parable illustrates this with a hunter who brings rotten meat as a tribute to his chief and is consequently chased away. 92Arrangements, instructions, prayers, blessings, sermons were labelled as ‘language from the pulpit’ or pulpit speech in this research. 93It would be of particular interest to investigate language use in sermons, since this genre is not included in this research. When I studied texts between 1996 and 1998 most sermons seemed to consist of literal translations of the Swahili Bible stories, which were elaborated with storytelling by the pastor. Preachers seemed to feel embarrassed to have their sermon recorded and studied. They expressed that it would be better to study Swahili sermons instead. I remember one ordination service with nine new pastors. The responsible pastor of the entire denomination CECCA 16 warned these new ministers to not abuse their power as if they were village chiefs. This was in April 1995. 94Excerpt from an agreement in parable 1 told by Mr. Autani recorded on tape 6 in January 1989 in Ibambi.

294 In this agreement the idiomatic expressions tido b ‘it would be good’ and mombí mnganá ‘a certain person’ co-occur with an emphatic participle at the end of line 14 that is involving the listeners. The rest of the language use is less typical for community-involved language use.95

7.2.4.6 The Continuum of Community Involvement

Consider table 7.5A with all genres that are distinguished by the fourth largest cluster:

Table 7.5A the continuum of community involvement (cf. column IV of table 7.2)

7 variables are significant for: church songs community involvement ^ 4 ghost stories l 3 animal stories; trickster stories l circumcision songs; party- and individual songs l 1 pact stories l l 0 parables & pulpit speech (incl. prayers; blessings) l l 2 variables significant in life stories; work instructions; proverbs; riddles I reverse sense in: l l 6 medical information l 8 drama; cultural documentation l (incl. genealogies) individual expression v

The more variables occur in a genre, the more typical the genre seems to be for the expression of community-involved language use. The more variables occur in reverse sense, the more typical the genre is considered to be as expression of individual expression, being the opposite end of the continuum of community-involved language use. Parables & pulpit speech have no distinctive features of individual expression. The exchange of choruses with certain idiomatic expressions in church songs, circumcision songs and animal stories enables community members to join in with memorised constructions. Next to audience participation, these genres involve the community by their concise representation of shared values in the form of idiomatic expressions. Since the highly distinctive nature of animal stories as community-involved language is worth noting, several excerpts are presented to illustrate the manifestation of community involvement in this genre.

7.2.4.7 Excerpts with Community Involvement in Animal Stories96

This subsection begins with some excerpts that illustrate the particular role of animal stories in Budu communities. Secondly some excerpts with more typical community-involved language use are discussed, including illustrations of the use of ideophones.

95In line 12, the consecutive indicates that the optative mood of the inflected verb ‘let somebody go’ is carried by the verb yakanaka ‘to explain.’ The consecutive is less typical for community-involved language use, like the modal clitic -s ‘first.’ 96In this section several excerpts are provided. The first is an excerpt with the moral lesson at the end of an animal story by Reverend Pastor Bakman-Mungaki June 1992 (tape 29 text 10) followed by an excerpt from a reproach in an animal story by Bavikamba, recorded on tape 16 text 5 between 1990 and 1992.

295 The first excerpt includes an explicit comment about the values represented in most animal stories. Animal stories invariably end with a broken friendship. The consequences may be fatal and the moral lesson is that betrayal is to be avoided:

y-nn y-ak-pan-a b: no-bi-eni n a-yóo a-s, REL-GIVEN IPF.3SG-HAB-show-APL that PF2PL.be-COND ADD CL-friend CL-yours 33. This story illustrates that, if you (PL) have a friend of your own,

Wa-t-m-pta-ka km. Dh wo-bi-eni 2SG-OPT.NEG-OP3SG-betray-REP not For PF 2SG-be-COND 34. you shouldn’t ever betray him. n pta-na-ka -gn yá-wo wo-ní. ADD betray-REC-REP CL-circumcision CL.IPF.die die-PASPTC For if you are betraying (him), the circumcision will surely die.

In contrast to the rest of the story, its moral lesson at the end exhibits less community-involved language.97 Moral lessons often differ from the story as they include explicit comments. In this case the emphatic past participle woni ‘killed’ is nevertheless used at the end of the closing sentence to involve the audience with its dramatic emphasis. The lines 33 and 34 are included in this section to illustrate that animal stories function to reinforce values regarding social bonds between members of the community. These values are instilled in children so that they become reliable members of the community. Although the language use in these lines is not typical for community involvement, they are included in this section since they explain a value that is important in relation to the function of animal stories. Since the contrastive analyses in this chapter are meant to facilitate the second step in the functional interpretation of clusters of co-occurrence at the hand of the role that genres play, it seems important in relation to community involvement to understand the role of animal stories. Animal stories tend to reach their climax when one of the two animals reproaches the other for betraying the blood brotherhood, which they once started. The story about Monkey and Crocodile mentioned in appendix 5.B reaches its climax in the lines 36 to 38:

A-yóo, nd s ta-bio n-w ak -gn, CL-blood brother if we IPF.1PL -be ADD-you in CL- circumcision 36. Blood brother, even if we are bound together as circumcision partners,

Wa-sugo ta, wa-na-dya nd ta n-dya? IPF.2SG-declare now IPF.2SG-OP1SG-eat if now INF-eat 37. do you want to tell me now, that you plan to eat me, I mean, really eating?

, m na-nab- dh n-ang batá m a-nsa inani. RES, me IPF.1SG-tell-APL for IPF.1SG-NEG again me to-go there 38. Well, let me tell you that as far as I’m concerned, I myself I will never go there again.

The idiomatic expression in line 36 refers explicitly to the binding commitment between ‘partners in circumcision’. Friendship is implicitly assumed in most animal stories, apart from in the preceding line (36), where the reference to the circumcision is made explicitly.

97Next to three second-person forms, which involve the addressee, both lines exhibit negative distinctions of involvement, namely two conditionals nobieni and wobieni, and line 34 has another negative distinction of community involvement, namely a verbal negation.

296 Apart from the setting, only a few animal stories explicitly refer to the circumcision itself. The following excerpt is an exception. Rain98 and his friend Turtle exchange obscure parts of the formulaic language from a circumcision ceremony they once experienced together. They do this after Rain has opened a long package with Turtle himself jumping out of it. Turtle packed himself to confront his ‘friend’ with the discovery of some betrayal:99

A-yóo w k nd k() ínaní? Seki -ngwa ga vanga. CL-friend you PF.2SG-come INT too here turtle PF.3SG-go SAY IDEOPHONE 41. “Friend! How can you be here?!” Turtle went (out of the package in which he was hidden) in one swift movement.

Seki o-be-íso: Lúgò? Hóó! 2X, Turtle PF.3SG-watch-CAUS Lugo? Ho! (mocking exclamation)2X 42. The turtle made (him) watch (the traditional circumcision song performance): “Lugo? Hoo!

-gn bm-bm o! hóó! CL-circumcision hard-RED Oh! Hoo! 43. Circumcision surely is difficult.” “Ay!” And “Oh!”

O-sugo b “A-yóo n-k, -gn matak-k! PF.3SG-say that CL-friend PF1SG-come, CL-circumcision mix up-INTENSIVE 44. He said: “As a friend I came, the circumcision blood has been mixed between us”

-páa--s ngb f! Apu? Ch! Apu? Ch! PF.3SG-blow-first thing IDEO Apu? Chey! Apu? Chey! 45. He blew the curse now: PFEEEH!!!! (Continuing the traditional circumcision song :) “Apu? Chey! 2x”

In lines 41 and 45, the ideophones vanga and f are distinctive for community-involved language use. As the discussion of this excerpt continues, the second topic of this subsection can be introduced, which is community-involved language use itself, for instance, the role of ideophones as a means to involved the community. Some ideophones are onomatopaeic in nature, such as the one for the whistle PFEE! universally known as the sound of small whistles. Onomatopaeic ideophones may seem to be merely expressive elements, they nevertheless are marked elements in the phonological and semantic system and consequently less general than unmarked items (Klamer 2001:167 in reference to Battistella 1990). “They appeal to the senses and have narrow meaning.” The audience participation in story-telling sessions is heightened by the use of these forms, or as Kunene (2001:190) formulates it: “Having created a surreal world, the ideophone invites the audience to perceive with their senses that which it represents, whether aural, visual, olfactory and so on.” In this respect, ideophones, similar to exclamation and interjections, almost physically involve the audience in experiencing the story. In line 42, the exclamations O! “Ay!” And “Oh!” represent reported speech. This vivid dialogue involves the audience almost as if they were expressed in natural conversation.

98Rain usually is a character in ghost stories, not in animal stories. This particular excerpt is taken from an animal story (ed. 2001) by Mr. Banagaa Athoo; Mr Bukwedu Moïse; Mr. Oginyo Mathias; and Mr. Bako Idey. The next excerpt is taken from an animal story by Mr. Bavikamba, text 5 on tape 16 recorded between 1990 and 1992, the last excerpts are all from the same story. 99The blowing of a particular whistle (line 4) is known to curse the listener.

297 In line 45, the adverbial clitic -s ‘first’ (mitigation) is attached to a third person singular verb.100 This use expresses the order of a quick sequence of actions. This language use is another example of the narrator’s attempt to create the impression of interaction. Consider a longer story excerpt101 as well, where ideophones are also used to stress the main point:

I-yeku y--png n-mba má-pa, Kb -png y ta k ak-ka, CL-eagle CL-PF-3SG-start to.INF-cultivate CL-hole hen PF.3SG-start him now too PROG-do 1. Eagle started to dig holes. Hen as well started acting indeed,

nd i-bio ak-maya-ka slng a-matí má-pa. IRR IRR.3SG-be PROG-fill-REP peanut CL-inside of CL-hole 2. As if she was putting peanuts in the holes all the time.

Kb -may -slng ak -pa k mnganá, Hen PF.3SG-fill CL-peanut in CL-hole too CL-one Hen filled (each hole) too, with just one peanut.

-sa a-kuto ma-pa bt k nd aki CONS.3SG-go to.INF-cover CL-hole idle too when there, 3. Then she went on to cover the empty holes when she was there as well,

o-bi-eni ak-maya slng títa ak moni b kala-kala. 3SG-be-GERUND PROGR-fill peanut just.now at mouth like IDEOPH entering the peanuts just at that moment in her mouth without chewing.

I-yeku y-ndan-íso má-pa, Kb -ndan-íso k má-pa k ban, CL-eagle CL-PF.3SG-be.enough-CAUS CL-hole Hen PF.3SG-be.enough-CAUS as.well CL-hole too like. 4. Eagle produced enough holes, Hen producded enough holes as well just the same.

O-bu-may-eni súo -slng tá mnganá a-matí -pa. 3SG-OP3PL-fill-GERUND later CL-peanut just CL-one CL-inside of CL-hole 7. After producing them she was putting only one peanut in the hole.

[…] N b-isi ng-ba b-m, ga I-yeku n Kb, b: And CL-day DET-REL CL-other say CL-Eagle ADD Hen like 38. Another time says Eagle to Hen :

“T-sa-s ak-naka ba-kbhaa”. OPT.1PL-go-first PROG-check CL-field “Let’s go checking the fields first.”

B-ngw kynda, b-s ak kbhaa, HPF.3PL-go trip HPF.3PL-go at field 39. They undertook the trip and went to the field

ng-ya-ak Kb. B-gbk slng, DET-REL-there of Hen PF.3PL-find peanut that, there of Hen. 40. They found the penauts,

100It is not attached to a second person inflection as usual. The use of third person forms with this particle is rare. Rather than mitigation of an imperative, it expresses a quick sequence of actions. 101Excerpt from animal story told by Mr. Bupendipo; recorded tape 1 text 8 January 1989.

298

ng-ya-ak Kb, -ba-eni k mu-bomu b gbny-. DET-REL-there of Hen 3SG-grow-GERUND too CL-all like sow-PAST.PTC those there of Hen, that had grown indeed all where these where sown.

B-s ta ak kbhaa ng-ya-ak I-yeku, HPF.3PL-go now at field DET-REL-there of CL-Eagle, 41. They went now at the field, that of Eagle,

b-gbk má-pa tá bt b wóó HPF.3PL-find CL-hole just idle like IDEOP they found the holes just idle, deadly silent…

Slng -ba-eni tá b gb-gb. Peanut 3SG-grow-GERUND just like IDEOPH 42. The peanuts had been growing just one here one there.

ndut y--nda I-yeku b kpu-kpu kpu-kpu Body CL-CONS-3SG-tremble CL-eagle like IDEOPH 43. Then Eagle’s body shook heavily

a-nna y-aká y-tà-bb. to-INF.see CL-matter CL-ADI-bad at the sight of this terrible thing : ”keboung, keboung, keboung”.

The sequence of ideophones in lines 41, 42 and 43 emphasizes the dramatic discovery. Although Eagle and Hen have made an agricultural agreement, which is typical for Budu farmers, Hen abused the trust of Eagle by eating half of the peanuts she pretended to sow. The deceit is discovered only weeks later, when Eagle’s field shows evidence of meagre sowing in comparison to the abundant green shoots at Hen’s field. The story ends with the eternal animosity between Eagle and all chickens, which it explains in its explicit moral end: Eagle threatens to eat all Hen’s children: ‘and this is the reason why Eagle eats chicken.” In contrast to onomatopaeic ideophones, such as the one presenting Eagle’s heartbeat in line 43, most Budu ideophones form part of a fixed collocation; for instance gb-gb with the verb root báa ‘to grow’ in line 42, with the specific meaning of growing just ‘one here one there’. The silence, which is described with the ideophone wóó in line 41, is repesentative for the empty holes without plants or seeds. This expression at the same time illustrates an alternative for negation. Ideophones co- occur with the absence of verbal negation in distinctions of community involvement (see table 5.DD). A different ideophone is required to describe a tree without fruit. Consider the lines 23, 24, 27 and 37, where the ideophone gba is used:102

-kynda ak ma-tindindi k- ma-ngas k ma-bomu; CONS.3SG-go to CL-root CL-of CL-nuts too CL-all 23. He indeed went to all nut trees.

-na dh ngas gba. CONS.3SG-see MOD nut IDEO 24. What nut did he actually see? Ssshh ! (complete quiteness)

-ta íyaní a-ndei tá b dhakala. -ta a-ndei batá k bt.. PF.3SG-return there at-home just like IDEOPH PF.3SG-return at-home again too idle 27. He returned home there just frustrated. 37. Again he returned home emptyhanded.

102This excerpt is from an animal story by Mr. Bavikamba, text 5 on tape 16 recorded between 1990 and 1992.

299

Instead of negation, the narrator uses emphatic descriptions to express the emptiness of the fruit tree. The object of the verb ‘to see’ in line 24 is quietness, and its meaning is clarified by the ideophone dhakala ‘frustrated’ in line 27, while the adverb in line 37 expresses the same idea in a parallel passage. The lexical choice depends not merely on the individual preference of the narrator, it follows from the collocation that is used. The two examples illustrate the particular choice of an ideophone that suits the collocation, while it also illustrates language use with a significant absence of verbal negation. The specific requirements for using ideophones reduces their possible use, while on top of that, storytellers need to know the exact right moment in the story to use ideopones. In the stories of the researched corpus, ideophones are only used to emphasise dramatically important events that contribute to the development of the storyline. They thereby involve the audience in sense making (cf. Tannen 1989:17 about ‘mythical involvement’). The skill represented by the use of ideophones distinguishes community-involved language use from redundant speech.103 Participles and idiomatic expressions, just like reversed order, represent distinctions of a more formal setting, since these forms co-occur in another cluster as distinctions of performative language use (see the section on the performative parameter). Ideophones are used frequently in animal stories and their occurrence distinguishes attempts to involve the audience. For additional information about ideophones see appendix 5C.

7.2.4.8 Conclusion about Community Involvement in Budu

Verbal interchanges are central to community life in Budu society. Half of all genres in the researched corpus represent some involvement of the community. Attempts to activate audience participation can be expressed by direct appeals to the addressee (vocatives, second person pronouns, exclamations and (rhetorical) questions), but also with a dramatic emphasis on certain objects or persons (the additive, emphatic pronouns, reversed order) and actions (ideophones, parallel constructions, participles). In conclusion, positively distinguished genres are used to reinforce community values, whereas negatively distinguished genres represent an individual expression of the opinions of community members. Language with community involvement is formulated freely. The only significant absences are of negation, gerunds and short infinitives. The opposite is represented by individual expression and was illustrated with an excerpt from a cultural documentation text. This genre comments on developments in society. It is distinguished for its lack of directive language use with appeals for a reaction, since it instead aims for a long-term impact on the addressee(s), providing ‘food for thought’. The bhasa text with its negative remarks concerning the role of women represents such an individual perspective on recent developments in the community that is characteristic for ‘community-not-involved’ language use. Since church songs are distinguished by community-involved distinctions, their language use was discussed in order to understand the role of church-related genres in social life and its organisation. The cultural concepts occurring in the discussed church song imply a comparison of the social bonds between fellow believers with bonds between members of co-allied lineages, where mutual obligations provide a protection that contributes to group harmony. Indeed resemblances between the language use of church leaders and the elaborate speeches of village leaders seem to exist, as was mentioned in chapter 6 (in commenting decrees and guarantees in table 6.6). Similarly, statements uttered between

103This seems noteworthy in contrast to descriptions of ideophones as primarily expressive in nature. Isidore Okpewo (1992:92) argues that: “ideophones are simply used in conveying a vivid impression,” and Childs (2001:70) seems to understand African ideophones in the first place as expressive language. Cf. his remark (1994:194) quoted by de Jong (2001:128) that: “ideophones serve an expressive function, it is not unexpected that they should appear in limited environments, ones where expressiveness would be expected to occur.”

300 church members in songs exhibit resemblances with declarations to siblings and with songs exchanged between members of the same village community. One expression by which these genres involve the community is the use of idiom, which by its concise representation of shared values affirms group membership. Several genres with attempts to involve the community are distinguished as performative and will be discussed under the sixth parameter. The attempts to involve the community in church songs can be explained by the role which the church seems to fulfil in Budu society, as observed from the language use.104 The distinctive nature of animal stories as community-involved language is significant. Several excerpts were presented to understand the manifestation of community involvement in this genre. In the first place, values represented by the genre exhort young community members to cherish their social life, not betraying others for the sake of personal interests. These values are represented by the circumcision and its lifelong bond between partners, to which idiomatic expressions refer as iconic references (see also appendix 5E). Ideophones also occur frequently in animal stories. The skill represented by the use of ideophones distinguishes community-involved language use from redundant speech. Ideophones are used to emphasize dramatically important events and thereby involve the audience in sense making (see also appendix 5D). A parameter of community involvement could be established in relation to the fourth dimension of variation of Budu language use. In this parameter, individual expression functions as the opposite of community-involved language use.

7.2.5 Spontaneous Production versus Prepared Production

Two aspects of the parameter of production are discussed in this section, which are the continuum of distinguished language use and the contrasting sets of distinguished genres. In chapter 5 the fifth cluster was interpreted as linguistic redundancy that can be related to production circumstances, while, in some cases,105 intentional redundancy may also reflect didactic attempts to make a text easier to understand for the addressee. The dimension of redundancy was therefore interpreted in relation to production. Hence the name of the fifth parameter of language use. Redundancy is reflected in all genres that are not produced in advance. It contrasts with the minimal of redundancy that is represented in prepared production, even when this is performed orally from a memorised script (drama, church song book) or protocol (individual mourning songs, circumcision songs). Conventions tend to reduce the need for careful preparation, since the strict format allows for repetition from memory. Important Budu institutions such as circumcision or the church lead to a minimum of redundancy, as can be observed from the reverse distribution of the fifth cluster in related genres. Production is different from other dimensions of communication, which seem all interrelated. Redundant language use seems only related to performative language use with its institutionalised language use, as can be explained from the use of a script or protocol in an institutional setting. Since such a protocol represents a prepared production of the language, it is void of linguistic redundancy and contrasts with the deliberate use of redundancy in language geared to young Budu speakers. In chapter 6 embedded dialogues were observed to resemble redundant language use as it distinguishes some main genres (see section 6.7). This was explained as resulting from deliberate attempts to characterise the discourse participants whose speech is reported. The reported speech in

104Investigations into the relation between church organisations and socio-political organisations are needed to verify the impression which resemblances in language use give an outsider. 105Medical information and animal stories represent redundant genres that are not necessarily produced on the spot.

301 most embedded genres106 apparently suggests an ad hoc production of language, as language use in the main genres which exhibit empty fillers and redundant expressions. Redundancy suggests a spontaneous, ad hoc production, as reflected in all genres that are not produced in advance. It contrasts with a minimal of redundancy represented by genres that are prepared in advance. A contrastive analysis will verify this statement.

7.2.5.1 Two Contrasted Sets of Distinguished Genres

Since the contrast between distinguished genres is essential to the functional interpretation of this parameter, table B is presented prior to table A. The genres in grey print are all story genres that are produced on the spot. Parables & pulpit speech is a genre category that includes the non-narrative genre of prayers and blessings. Since this sub-genre represents prepared production it is printed in black:

Table 7.6B, dimension of production, the contrasted sets of distinguished genres

Carefully prepared production Spontaneous; ad hoc production drama (script) work orders (travel instructions; recipes; advice) life stories and reported personal experiences medical information parables & pulpit speech (prayers; blessings) animal stories (with agreements and reproaches) pact stories (with thoughts, decrees and guarantees) proverbs trickster stories (with guarantees and reproaches cultural documentation incl. (redundant) genealogies riddles and small stories re. facts of nature church songs (church song book) ghost stories (with (dis)agreements and story songs) circumcision songs individual songs (mourning songs; lullabies) party songs (wedding songs; dance songs; drinking songs)

Genres on the righthand side represent spontaneous production with redundant language use, whereas genres on the lefthand side by their minimum of redundancy represent carefully prepared texts. Redundancy is apparently typical for story-genres that are produced on the spot; printed in grey in this overview. Song genres are distinguished as careful production; printed in italics. Most are repeated from production above, possibly memorised from the church song book or from the script that exists for the drama texts. Animal stories exhibit more redundancy than parables & pulpit speech, as the preceding overview clarifies. The storytelling in parables is distinguished as carefully prepared since it is often used by pastors. Animal stories are used with children. The excerpts of animal stories in section 7.2.4.7 illustrate the redundancy in animal stories, which are for example distinguished by their lack of verbal negation and their circumscriptions of negated actions (see the last two excerpts in that section).

7.2.5.2 A Contrastive Analysis

By comparing the two contrasted sets of genres, the redundancy in the positively distinguished genres and the strict format of the negatively distinguished genres are further investigated. Starting with the carefully prepared genres, speakers that speak on behalf of a group apparently tend to abide by the group’s conventions for well-prepared texts. This concern for carefully produced

106Embedded genealogies, guarantees and thoughts were observed to be exceptions since they exhibit features of a temporally-connective presentation of events and are distinguished as the most elaborate speech genres.

302 texts explains the minimal redundancy in church songs, circumcision songs, mourning songs, and pulpit speech including prayers and blessings. Furthermore carefully prepared genres apparently all represent highly conventionalised language use. Because of their recurrence, these situations facilitate the memorisation of language use. This is another aspect, next to their representative nature as group language. The genres listed on the lefthand side represent either short and frequently used, or long and individually-relevant texts, 107 which have one property in common: they facilitate memorisation. In contrast, most stories exhibit considerable variation as to their format, not considering the artful presentation of implicit information with several skeletons of reported speech discussed in section 7.2.1.6 (and in appendix 5B).

7.2.5.3 Excerpts with Spontaneous Production in a Ghost Story108

Consider the following excerpt from a story about a human lady who meets a ghost in the forest while cutting vines to weave basketry. The excerpt starts with the second attempt of the basket weaver to supply herself with a new stock of material; a need that brings her dangerously far into the rainforest:

-by ínaní an-i-ju. -png batá tna nd, HPF.3SG –arrive there in-CL-forest HPF.3SG-start again INF.cut vine 11. She arrived there in the forest, 12. started again to cut vines.

Nd y-pnd. -tw k a ndei,--d batá. vine CL.HPF- suffice HPF.3SG-return too at home HPF.3SG-OP.3.PL-cut.small again 13. the vines sufficed. 14. She also turned home again, cut it small again,

y a-mma nd,-kanga nd b gb, When NPF.3SG-heap.up vines CONS.3SG-look vine like IDEOPH 15. After she heaps up the vines she looks at the vines like: ‘duh?!’

ga y b: “Húú, y-ang-pnda km. Says she like What?!! CL-NEG-suffice NOT 16. Saying: “What?! It isn’t enough!

Ná-bhi batá-s tá a-kio y-m.” IPF.1SG-go again-first just to.INF-cut CL-LOGOPH 17. I’ll simply go once more to cut one other (vine).’

-ngw batá k kynda a-nsa ínaní an() i-ju, HPF.3SG-travel again too travel to.INF-go there in CL-forest 18. She indeed made another trip to the forest out there again.

-gbk ta m-t b-abh y ya anan HPF.3SG-find now CL-person CL-ghost her REL there 19. This time she met with a ghost person, who

107Different formats are represented by proverbs, prayers, blessings, genealogies (for an excerpt see section 6.2.4), life stories, circumcision songs, lullabies, mourning songs etc. 108This excerpt from text 4 tape 7 by Mrs. Benjomwana-Kegamoti was recorded August 1990 at a mourning session in the house of family Mayalibo.

303 a bawel-é a-k m-kk. 3SG.be sit-PTC CL-at of CL-tree.trunk was seated there at the trunk of a fallen tree.

The story earlier described the skin of the ghost with ideophones as sounding ‘as breaking eggs’. Somehow, the basket weaver desires that skin. After the two swap skins in a magical manner, the human lady starts to sense the first signs of inconvenience:

Nd y-aká y- b-abh y-ang gbala, As CL-thing CL-from CL-ghost CL-NEG INF.last, 47. Since the things of ghosts do not (usually) last,

m-t b-a b-ombí -png a-nakyo-no. CL-person CL-of (SW) CL-human HPF.3SG-start to-INF. scratch-REFL the person started to scratch herself.

Aka na-sug- aka b, -sk ta i-gbiti y- m-kaka Here PF.1SG –say-RAF such that PF.3SG -take now CL-piece CL –of CL –stick 48. Just at this moment I’m talking about, she now took a piece of a stick,

-png nakyo-no na-y . HPF.3SG -start to.INF.scratch-REFL with-CL (SW) 49. and started to scratch herself with it.

y -k a-nakyo-no, y--ndw k b: “ky 4x.” When HPF.3SG -do to–INF.scratch- REF, HPF.3SG-sound indeed as-follows: IDEOPHONE 50. When she was scratching herself, it sounded indeed as breaking eggs.

Anan mu-to b-a b-ombí a- a-nakyo-no, There CL -person CL- of (SW) CL –person PF.3SG-RAF to–INF.scatch–REFL 51. At that point, after the person got involved scratching herself,

a-sugo a-kanga a-jwa b, a-n-na m-t b-abh, NPF.3SG-say to-INF. look CL- face as-follows: to-INF-see CL-person CL-ghost 52. as she is about to look at the (others) face, to see the ghost,

a-ta n kynda. PF.3SG.be-now with travel 53. it has (already) gone.

In line 47, the temporal connective nd ‘when’ is used as the logical connective ‘since’. This easy exploitation of a form that could be replaced by a more specific connective in more carefully produced texts represents a vagueness reflecting instantaneous production, as reflected in texts with a high amount of redundancy. In line 48, the entire adverbial phrase aka nasug- aka b ‘just at the moment I’m talking about’ represents redundant material because it does not contribute to the development of the story. The use of this ‘empty filler’ indicates the time consideration that is typical for ad-hoc production and is characteristic for ghost stories. To generate more time to formulate the next phrase, the narrator exploits redundancy. In line 50, the recurrence marker k ‘indeed; also; too’ provides an instantaneous structuring of the text, referring to the attractive sound of the skin that seduced the basket weaver in the first place. An ideophone that is restricted to the ‘breaking of eggshells’ is repeated since the basket weaver hears it again. To mark the recurrence, the adverbial clitic is used. It represents a distinction of redundant texts.

304 In this excerpt examples of both lexical and adverbially expressed aspect occur. Examples of adverbial aspect are the existential auxiliaries in the lines 51 and 53.109 Examples of lexical expressions of aspect with auxiliaries are represented by the inchoative auxiliary png ‘started’110 and the durative auxiliary k ‘did,’ which structure the text with indications of chronology. These auxiliaries distinguish concern for temporally-connective presentation and are features of redundancy of language use. Several auxiliaries are expressed with nakyono ‘to scratch’ in a series of phrases with this same infinitive. Through parallel constructions a structure of acoustic repetition creates a certain emphasis,111 which underlines the dramatic information regarding the undesired skin rash that the lady received together with the enchanting skin. Another occurrence of an auxiliary that distinguishes the redundancy of this text is the lexical aspect expressed by negated existentials with infinitives as in the phrase yang gbala ‘it does not last’ in line 47. In line 52 the connective b ‘that’ is used to connect the temporal adverbial with the main phrase, to which it is subordinated. Apparently this speech introducer, as a frequently used expression, provides the most accessible connective, which is therefore exploited in instantaneous production. Usually this form is limited to introducing speech or ideophones (see for instance line 50). Also in line 52, the use of the idiomatic expression with kynda ‘trip’ (travel) is characteristic for the redundancy of language use of this text, although the use of idiom usually reflects performative language use. This idiomatic expression with kynda ‘trip’ represents one of the instantaneous collocations that, by its frequent use in story settings,112 emerges as a ready-made expression, which is typical of ad-hoc production.113 Earlier examples of such ‘easy collocations’ were mentioned in a footnote added to section 5.2.4.2.114

109 Aspect is expressed in line 50 by the Historic Perfect H, expressing the accomplished aspect of the scratching ‘when she started scratching.’ In line 53, the adverbial clitic ta ‘now’ is attached to an existential expressing punctual aspect (cf. line 19 where it is attached to an inflected verb). In line 47, a negated Durative Aspect occurs. In line 17, the clitic attached to the verb complex (the Imperfect Future and its adverb batá ‘again’) Nábhi batá-s expresses the unaccomplished action of ‘going.’ In line 18, adverbial clitics express repeated accomplished actions ngw batá k. 110 An inchoative auxiliary is used in line 12, 47 and 49. 111 The focus construction in line 48 and focalising adverbial in line 50 reinforce this emphasis. 112 See for example line 18. 113 Other expressions that occur frequently in such instant collocations are bya ‘to arrive;’ ta ‘to return; ‘bhang escape.’ 114 The presence of a ‘Redundant idiom’ is apparently less distinctive for language use than ‘culturally important’ idiomatic expressions of which appendix 5E had several examples. The idiom that is exploited for instantaneous production apparently plays no role in the distinction of redundancy.

305 7.2.5.4 The Continuum of Text Production

Table 7.6A the continuum of Text Production (cf. column V of table 7.2)

5 variables significantly ghost stories (with story songs) spontaneous production ^ medical information l 4 trickster stories (with reproaches ) l 3 work orders; riddles; pact stories l 2 animal stories; l - party songs l l 1 variable significant in reverse in dividual songs; parables& pulpit; l sense in: circumcision songs l 2 proverbs; life stories l 4 cultural doc. (incl. genealogies) l 6 church songs I 7 drama prepared production v

The more variables that occur in a genre, the more distinguished the genre is for redundancy. The more variables occur in reverse sense, the better prepared the production of a particular genre seems to be, as is reflected in the minimal redundancy. Redundant language use is related to spontaneous production representing entertainment (community-involved stories), instruction (work orders), challenges (riddles, party songs, the reproaches that are embedded in trickster stories and story songs embedded in ghost stories) and the transmission of knowledge (medical information). Well-prepared texts represent a minimum of redundancy distinguishing highly conventionalised language use with strict formats that result from the repeated exposure of mature community members to this kind of communication. Genres with often-repeated formats consequently reflect memorised language use. This memorisation can relate to cultural facts, as in cultural documentation distinguished by four variables, or to biographical facts, as in life stories distinguished by two variables. Multiple distinctions of redundancy occur in four narrative genres and in two explicit genres, reflecting the strong storytelling tradition. At least four genres are used without much preparation, in a free style that allows for redundancy. Apparently Budu stories are told without much preparation. Work orders are produced on the spot wherever the occasion arises to teach the younger generation. Like medical information they are purposely formulated in redundant, overtly clear speech, since the writers are aware of the language use of their addressee(s). In case of medical information the addressees mainly consists of young uneducated mothers and children. Furthermore, it is noteworthy that riddles are distinguished by three variables. In all the other dimensions the genre is distinguished by two or less variables, while for redundancy riddles consistently exhibit three positive distinctions. Apparently riddles exhibit a particularly free production, probably because the genre is used by children in verbal contests with a focus on the content. Only three genres are clearly distinguished at the negative end of this dimension. These carefully prepared genres are drama, church songs and cultural documentation. It follows from the automatic production of most redundant speech that it takes an effort to produce these three highly distinguished genres. Songs that are sung outside the church context seem to represent a less strict format, as is reflected in a significant use of only one variable, reflecting the origin of most song texts in celebrations, where they arise during the interaction. Since these songs recur at culturally recognised moments, they are related to these recurring events and consequently reflect prepared production as manifest in the relatively low level of redundancy. Some song genres are frequently adapted to their situation of use. Party songs and ghost stories are distinguished for their considerable redundancy, reflecting their

306 spontaneous production (see section 7.3.2 about ghost stories and the cultural explanation for their default distinctions as spontaneous production).

7.2.5.5 Excerpts with Spontaneous Production in Lullabies;115

To provide an illustration for the format of individual songs, consider the following lullabies, a sub-genre of individual songs.The first lullaby is of the subgenre called nendike, and represents a relatively serious exhortation that is repeated endlessly:

-ká -ká “woouwou”!8x Kati-! -pá! OPT–listen IMP –listen idem onomatopaeic ideophone 8x Calm.IMP-MIT OPT.3SG-stop 1. Just listen to your own crying. 2. Calm. down! Let it be over with.

Some lullabies represent humorous descriptions. These are called ágelé ‘entertainment’. Consider the song of Mrs. Benjomwana. This song is not necessarily sung to a girl, but merely describes amusing ways in which young wives treat their husbands according to the singer:

Búto b- -jj nga-ab bá-sa n gue a-nda-b!! heaviness CL-of time sort –ANAPH IPF.3PL-go ADD man at –place-theirs 5. Oh that pressing weight of the time of the kind when they go with their husband to that man’s family!

B-sa gue kobo! -nj gue m-t w-ng! CONS.3SG- prepare man chicken IRR .SG-give man CL-head CL –LOGOPH 6. Then they prepare their husband a chicken, she would give this man its head !

u-mbundo w–ng gbgl! Uu,uu,uu. Katá 3x! CL-palm.oil CL –LOGOPH unfermented.palm.wine Onomatopaeic IMP.calm.down 3x 7. The oil to it (being diluted with) raw palm wine ! Weh, weh! Oh no, calm down, calm down, calm down!

I was told that lullabies are not produced on the spot. They are repeated from generation to generation. This is also evident from their language use. As in other songs, the only connectives occur in the form of associative constructions in noun phrases. The lack of speech-introducing connectives is distinctive for lullabies. The genre consistently lacks speech introducers. This text even lacks the speech introducer that occurs in fixed combination with ideophones, possibly because of the onomatopoeic nature of the ideophone, which is used to distract the baby by sound imitations. In co-occurrence with other redundancy features, such as auxiliaries, the absence of speech introducers is distinctive for carefully prepared speech. Songs represent texts with isolated statements, which are not connected with each other by verbal means. Sometimes logophoric pronouns are used to indicate some coherence, as in this song (lines 6 and 7). The chicken in line 6 is indicated by a logophoric pronoun ‘its’ in the second clause. Wives are supposed to give their husband the best part of the meal and definitely not the ‘chicken’s head,’ which is considered as the children’s portion. The head is related to the chicken, as the logophoric pronoun indicates. Line 7 continues with a second reference to the chicken, which should be served with palm oil ‘to it’ and not unfermented palm wine, as the described cook serves.

115These excerpts are all taken from lullabies by Mrs. Benjomwana, recorded on tape 17 in 1992 (included in the researched corpus with the label individual song).

307 The lullaby describes the baby’s future with remarks referring to the social status of women. This combined with mocking imitations of its screams is entertaining to the other people on the compound, as it ridicules some social issues. 116 The absence of temporally-connective distinctions in this future description of the baby’s life is characteristic for the song genre which this lullaby represents. Its absence of speech introducers distinguishes it as non-redundant song, which is not produced on the spot, unlike riddles, for instance.

7.2.5.6 Excerpts with Spontaneous Production in Riddles117

Riddles exhibit a free format, partly because the category includes riddle-questions and riddle- stories alike. Consider excerpts of both (the answers of the addressee are printed in italics):

N-ndá mu-genú? Ndá! PF.1SG-trigger CL-story trigger.IMP Do I launch a riddle? Do it

m snab ak na-nndá mu-genú ng-wa-w- -nan: Me Esenabo here IPF.PR.1SG-trigger CL-story DET-REL-CL-of–GIVEN 1. Me, Esenabo, right here I challenge you with that particular riddle:

B-t b-a aki at á-bhaa aki a-nngba aki. CL-tree CL-IPF.PR.CL-be there at CL-sir there on–courtyard there 2. There is a tree there at that man’s at the courtyard there,

B-a m-tap tá mnganá? Gbulu. -kyngy! CL-IPF.PR.CL-be CL-branche just CL-one Block. CL-leaf 3. It is just one branch? I don’t know. A leaf!

The genre is characterised by the consistent use of at least three distinctions of redundant language use. In line 1, the verb nndá literally means ‘to sting’ and can be used to refer to launching riddles or ‘presenting a challenge’ to the addressee. In combination with the umbrella name for all narrative genres mugenú ‘story’ it refers in particular to riddles. In line 2, an observed fact of nature is presented, as is usual for riddles. It concerns a plant that grows near the courtyard and is used to package food. Of all its properties, the riddle describes only two, as if the plant were a tree with only one branch (line 3) that grows in the courtyard (line 2).118 In itself it is illustrative for the wide variety of texts representing riddles that the language use of this riddle exhibits only third person verb forms and no other positive distinctions, such as: auxiliaries, interrogative pronouns or short infinitives. Most important is that it does not represent negative distinctions. Consider also the following riddle story.119

116The ‘pressing weight,’ which the mother sings about, results from the relationship between the parents and their in-laws. The parents of ‘funny wives’ may expect to be rebuked for having asked too high a bride price. 117The first riddle 1 from tape 16 by Mrs. snab was recorded with a collection of riddles in the period between 1990-1992 in Ibambi. 118A flexible, non-toxic plant, neutral in smell. Its single leaf is large enough to be folded into a package shape. 119This riddle is from tape 11 text 3 by Fomuno Alongbaa recorded October 1988.

308 (Somebody asks the addressee: Do you have any idea why chickens drink with their eyes fixed on the sky? If the addressee fails to know the answer and replies: Gbulu ‘blocked’ the following short story is told):

Ya-bio b-isi m-nganá, kb a-kwa m-sasa w- m-epo. IPF.3SG.be CL-day CL-one chicken NPF.3SG CL-desire CL-of CL-water 1. At a certain day a chicken got thirsty.

Ga y, b: “Na-na aka b-ombí, Say he that IPF.3SG-see here CL-person 2. Says he: “I see now how people a-nsa a-tka m-epo tá n -ngbaa ng-y. to.INF-go to-INF-get CL-water just ADD CL-road DET-REL get their water supply taking this road.

Na-nsa bbn-s, m tak n -ngbaa ng-y-nn, a-nmwa m-epo. IPF.3SG.-go today-MOD me therefore ADD CL-road DET-REL-GIVEN to-INF-drink CL-water 3. I shall therefore go today at once, to drink water at that road myself.”

y a-sa a-nmwa m-epo ínaní, y ta a-nmwa m-epo, When NPF.3SG-go to.INF-drink CL-water there, he now to.INF.drink CL-water 4. After he went to drink water there, when he was at the point to drink water, ba-chukum- ak -k b, -dhk-dhk yo-bundio a-k, PF-3PL-walking.in.water-RAF at CL-source that CL-branch PF-CL-break CL-top there where they splash at the source, 5. A branch broke on high, y-m-bnda pu a m-t. O-hubo Huu! CONS-CL-OP.3SG-hit IDEOPH at CL-head CONS-3SG-moan Húú! that hit him then hard on the head. 6. He moaned: Huu!

O-nonio a-matí m-epo. -p aka.-ta a-ndei. HPF3SG-immerge at-inside of CL-water HPF3SG-wetten here. PF3SG-return at-home He was immerged in the water. Here he got wet. He returned home.

Mu-genú w-sm wo-sio. Ta k anan na-ky-na- kb, CL-story CL-mine CL-cut Now indeed there IPF2PL-HAB-see-RAF chicken, 7. My story is over. 8. So when you see a chicken o-bi-eni a-nmwa m-epo, a-kanga m-esu títa a-k, 3SG-be-GER to-INF.drink CL-water, IPFFUT.3SG-look CL-eyes just.then at-top when it is about to drink water, it will fix its gaze above. dh a-kumo, b -dhk-dhk y-a-t-m-bnda ti batá a m-t. For IPF.3SG-fear that CL-branch OPT.3SG-NEG-OP3SG-hit NEG again at CL-head 9. Because it watches out that a branch will not hit it on the head again.

Line 5 seems to introduce reported speech. However, the speech introducer is in fact used as a connective. The exploitation of the speech introducer as an ‘easy’ introducer is distinctive of the redundancy that reflects the spontaneous production of this text.120

120The speech introducer is easy to produce as a connective, since, by its frequency; it is highly accessible to the speaker. Cf. the remarks about the use of this form in genealogies in chapter 6 section 6.2.4.

309 Also the use of the auxiliary in line 2 ‘to go get water’ and of short infinitives in lines 3 and 4 ‘go to drink’ reflects the instantaneous production of the riddle in interaction, while the concept existed already.

7.2.5.7 Conclusion about Text Production in Budu

This parameter is clearly manifest in only a few genres. On the negative end of the dimension of redundant language the genres produced in script resemble other highly conventionalised genres with a strict format. Positively distinguished genres seem to represent a free production of texts, including story songs and party songs. Genres that arise on the spot are distinctively redundant. Didactically used genres reflect an easy language that resembles spontaneous production (work orders, medical information, riddles, and animal stories). This observation implies that the functional explanation of redundancy as related to production is too simplistic. Redundancy is equally important as an intentionally unambiguous communication device used with younger members of the community. Along the same lines, non-redundant genres represent an effort to master the strict format of some conventional language use, contributing to the respect the use of these genres evokes. These genres are associated with performative authority and contrast with ‘baby-talk’ (lullabies). This observation is refined in the discussion of the following parameter.

7.2.6 Performative versus Constative Language Use

Two aspects of the parameter of performative language use are discussed. These are the continuum of performative language use with its contrasting sets of distinguished genres. In chapter 5 the sixth cluster and its language use was interpreted as highly marked and mainly used for performative language use in an institutional setting. Performative speech in institutional settings was observed to function in the first place as preservation of social personhood. Its distinctive forms correspond to so-called Face- Saving strategies (see 5.2.6); used to express solidarity with society members who are going through transitions such as marriage, mourning, and circumcision. Distinctive use of this sixth cluster seems to be determined by the concern for social dignity. The prestige related to the formal, highly conventionalised and often recurring language use in institutional settings is related to its marked nature as non-redundant language, as was observed while discussing the previous parameter. Such language is used to declare speech acts in performative statements, as discussed in this section (for example ‘I declare you man and wife’). In the egalitarian society of the Budu, performative speech is, in the first place, concerned with the face-threatening situations of transitions which it attempts to reduce.

310 7.2.6.1 The Continuum of Performative Use of Language

The more variables that significantly occur in the genre, the more the genre is distinguished for one end of the dimension. Consider table 7.7A:

Table 7.7A the continuum of performative use of language (cf. column VI of table 7.2)

7 variables significant in: church songs performative language ^ 3 circumcision songs l 2 animal stories; life stories l 1 parables & pulpit speech; individual l songs (mourning); ghost stories l - trickster stories; party songs l l 1 variable significant in riddles; proverbs l reverse sense in: work orders l 2 pact stories l 3 medical information l 4 drama l 6 cultural documentation l (incl. genealogies) constative language use v

Probably most parable stories and life stories are not in fact considered as particularly formal expressions of performative language use. Parables are considered as informal preaching.121 Their distinctions as performative language use may be related to the establishing of genres in association with the relatively new institution of the church. There only are two genres with three or more positive distinctions for performative language. These are church songs and circumcision songs. Like animal stories, circumcision songs are used to prepare young Budu for lifelong blood brotherhoods. The language use imprints them with important values that eventually affect all social relationships (see the first excerpts with animal stories in section 7.2.4.7). It is distinguished as performative language use and indeed accomplishes the social preparation of young members to their society and its core values. At the other end of the continuum there are four genres with at least three negative distinctions each, pact stories, medical information, drama and cultural documentation. These genres have in common that they do not accomplish, but rather describe events. Like pact stories, drama, is used during leisure time when nothing needs to be accomplished. It is distinguished as non-performative language use similar to cultural documentation. These genres are narrated partly as a distraction after a day of hard labour in the fields.122

7.2.6.2 Two Contrasted Sets of Distinguished Genres

The contrasted sets of genres are labelled as performative vs. non-performative language use in table 7.7.A. This term was developed by Searle (1970) for (speech) acts that are ‘performed’ by linguistic

121A more formal genre of language use from the pulpit would be the full sermon, and this was not included in the researched corpus. 122Most pact stories are hilarious (jokes). Cultural documentation frequently contains thought-provoking statements that stimulate a lively discussion. Use of the genre in print has developed its use from individual interaction to thought-provoking reflections on the past by individual authors. Probably reading these texts with cultural documentation aloud will stir more group discussions than the original use of the genre ever did.

311 utterances. The concept was introduced by Austin (1962) as the opposite of ‘constative language use’, which does not accomplish anything by its merely descriptive nature. For reasons of clarity I use the term ‘non-performative’ for this descriptive use of language. To investigate the nature of the differences between performative vs. non-performative language use, a contrastive analysis between the genres is now discussed in comment on table 7.7B:

Table 7.7B the sets of genres contrasted by face-saving strategies

Descriptive language use: Performative language use: cultural documentation and genealogies church songs medical information parables incl. pulpit speech (prayers; blessings) riddles and small stories re. facts of nature life stories and reported personal experiences work orders (travel instructions; recipes; moral individual songs (mourning songs; lullabies) advice) proverbs pact stories (with thoughts, decrees and guarantees) circumcision songs animal stories (with decrees, agreements and reproaches) drama ghost stories (with (dis)agreements and story songs)

party songs (wedding songs; dance songs; drinking songs) trickster stories (with guarantees and reproaches)

All genres in grey print reflect institutions. (It is noteworthy that most are presented on the righthand side of the overview.) In contrast, some embedded genres, which reflect institutions, are presented in grey print on the lefthand side.123 Apparently the main genre of pact stories in which decrees are embedded is not distinctively performative by these performative fragments with embedded speech. Similarly some embeddings of genres on the right side do not exhibit the same performative nature as the main genre. Agreements exhibit several performative distinctions, all the same they lack oath vocatives, and therefore their language use can not be considered as performative.124 Since this genre, like the subgenre of drinking songs, only represents a minimal part of the main genre category, it apparently does not determine the language use of the main genres. Trickster stories and party songs are not distinguished as either non-performative or performative language use. Trickster stories are used in informal story-telling sessions. Its embedded guarantees and reproaches nevertheless exhibit performative genre markers, like animal stories.125 All genres occurring in a church setting are grouped on the righthand side of the table above. Similar to church songs and life stories, parables are used in church settings. Only life stories are not distinguished for involvement of the community (see under the section of community involvement). This can be explained by the character of this genre as an individual expression with an abundance of first person forms (see table 5.D). It was mentioned before that life stories are exchanged as a means to establish acquaintances during regional meetings of groups of members of the same church denomination, where relative strangers from other villages are present among the audience. Parables are distinguished as slightly performative with only one variable that consistently occurs in the genre. Nevertheless, the performative dimension is the only one where this genre of parables & other pulpit speech is overtly determined by one parameter, including the sub-genres in

123Decrees have a significant lack of short infinitives, just like pact stories. 124It was explained in chapter 6 that the embedded genres seem to be distinguished for elaborateness rather than for the dimension of the main corpus. 125Reproaches are distinguished by a significant use of Perfect second singular forms and the exclamation Húú!? ‘What?!’ and guarantees, like church songs, exhibit second plural pronouns and oath vocatives. Agreements are an embedded genre that is, as an embedded genre, ambiguous with respect to this parameter. Agreements exhibit both positive distinctions (the significant use of the exclamation oyí! ’yes’ and the first plural Imperfect Future) while the significant lack of oath vocatives marks them as slightly non-performative. See table 6B in chapter 6.

312 other pulpit speech. Like church songs, parables & pulpit speech also exhibit the consistent use of polite vocatives, in contrast to several non-performative genres. Budu parables are allegoric stories that explain Christian teaching. There are no other dimensions of communication for which this genre is clearly distinguished, because in most dimensions the different nature of pulpit speech and parable stories results in indistinctive frequencies for the entire category. In this dimension the subcategories are all distinctively performative. Apparently, church-related genres are distinguished as older Budu institutions, such as blood brotherhood (animal stories and circumcision songs), and mourning (individual songs). In section 5.2.6 it was mentioned that the language use in these cultural institutions is highly marked. These genres have in common that they all are used to mark liminal phases in the social organisation of the Budu, where boys, once they are circumcised together, are declared brothers with circumcision songs, and where, in a wedding song, a sibling may be praised as somebody’s marriage partner, or in relation to church affiliation, when members from different lineages are invited to celebrate community life together and begin to share social responsibilities for a larger area than their own lineage’s. The institutional settings provide speakers with a certain authority that allows for the use of performative language. With the use of performative language, the speaker may achieve speech acts such as blessing a congregation or guaranteeing inter-clan friendship.126 Even the hardly distinguished ghost stories apparently are affected by the mourning institution during which they are used (see section 7.3.2). Consider the examples in the following sections.

7.2.6.3 Excerpt with Performative Language Use in Church Songs127

M-ombí kábú o–bi-eni aka ati s, o-mu-sig-io Yeso: CL-person of disease 3SG-be-COND here among us CONS.3SG.-OP.3SG-say-APL Jesus 1. If there is somebody who is sick amongst us, let that person tell it to Jesus:

“w, Yeso a-na-hé-íso, m n-a m-ombí kab, You, Jesus, IPF.3SG-OP1SG-heal-CAUS me IPF.1SG –be CL-person of disease 2. "Oh, you Jesus, will he heal me, I am a sick person.”

A-mu-sig-io, “-máa, sá aki a-nd–”. IPF.3SG-OP.3SG-tell-APL OPT.SG–stop, go.IMP there to-place-yours 3. He will tell him: “Stand up, go to your home”

Church songs differ in nature from parables and life stories since they represent a relatively new genre. It exhibits many performative distinctions which remove ambiguity concerning possible intentions, where confusion is expected in relation to existing dimensions. Church songs are not only distinguished for community-involved language use, they also represent attempts to accomplish changes with involved members of the community, as will be discussed below. Line 1 refers in an inclusive sense to the first plural. In this church song the first plural pronoun is distinctive for the well-prepared language use that characterises most performative genres. The second half of line 1 continues with a consecutive form that continues the irreal mode of the conditional. The singing church community not only invites outsiders (as discussed under the parameter of directive language use); with this irreal mode it also expresses the desire that sick church attendees will at that point appeal to Jesus for their healing. The song anticipates the reaction of Jesus in an

126Animal stories invariably present the audience with the consequences of broken bloodbrotherhood, and therefore imprint young Budu with the values of circumcision partners and related inter-clan friendships. 127This excerpt is from song 32 in the church song book, also recorded on tape 27, sung by Mrs. Nebholo.

313 allusion to the biblical exhortations, where Jesus urges restored persons to rise and walk. Apparently the performative language here expresses concern with the situation of the physically unwell, and therefore the use of ‘restoring’ language to address the needs of possible sick persons and to ‘sing’ them through a desired transition to well-being can be observed. This is similar to what happens in the community house bhasa, when the social personhood of community members was threatened and when public genres such as palavers and councils were held to help afflicted persons through transitions as a community.128

7.2.6.4 Excerpt with Performative Language Use in mourning (individual songs)

Past Participles are significantly used in mourning songs (a subgenre of individual songs). By affirming the accomplished fact, a dead relative is helped through the liminal phase of departure to the world of the defunct. Consider the use of the passive participle in the following line from a mourning song for example:

O-wo tîa woo-ni-éé. PF.3SG-die now die-PTCPAS- oh He/she has really died, OOH!

The use of the passive participle on –NI is emphatic. It underlines the accomplishment of the ‘dying’ by its reduplication of the inflected verb ‘he died’. Also active participles can be used in performative speech, consider for example line 22:129

Înü na-bio ba-wél-é ïhô nö b-igabeboi aki a-nongba. You IPF.FUT.2PL-be CL-sit-PTC together with CL-girls there at-courtyard 22. You will be seated together with the (other) girls there on the courtyard.

The speaker of line 22 uses an Imperfect. However, with the added participle construction the father almost describes an accomplished action as if it must certainly come to pass that the addressee joins the other women in their traditional role on the courtyard, where the cooking takes place.130 The following circumcision song is another example of the use of performative language in a setting that is not related to the church. Similar to the promised healing in the church song, it represents a reminder of the well-being which circumcision eventually brings. The novices are exhorted to behave well during the period of seclusion, while they wait for their wounds to be healed:

128During my two year stay in Ibambi I was twice part of such a neighbourhood meeting, although not in a bhasa. One meeting was held because I was angry and the neighbourhood was concerned enough to help me through a transition that would restore my relationship to a thief; and once when our neighbour was upset and the whole neighbourhood counselled him to restore his marriage relationship. 129This line is taken from a moral advice (subgenre work orders) by Mr. Sengi recorded June 1992 on tape 29 text 14. 130Note that this last example participle constructions as distinction of performative language use is exceptional. It does not reflect the solidarity that characterises all positively distinguished genres in this cluster (the involved genre being a work order). Moral advices are a sub-genre of work orders and only incidentally make use of participles. Participles are not significant for the genre. The male-female hierarchy in Budu society forms an exception to the egalitarian organisation of social life (cf. Grinker 1994 about the Lese farmers, who have a similar inequality between the sexes that parallels, in their case, their patron-client relation with the Efe Pygmies). For the contents of this statement compare this line with the cultural documentation text in section 7.2.4.3.

314 7.2.6.5 Excerpt with Performative Language in a Circumcision Song131

-gn n b-tp . Chorus: N-kya ma-dó. CL-circumcision ADD CL- attractiveness OH! Chorus OPT.2pl-do CL-good.things 1. The circumcision has (its) attractiveness, Oh! Chorus: May you do the good things:

Ba-na-pana k n m-sa ! Nkya madó. IPF.3PL- OP1SG-show indeed ADD CL-relatives.of.partner OH OPT.2pl-do CL-good.things 2. Oh! They will show me my young sister-in-law as well! (chorus repeated)

Ba-na-bhanga-na k n -ga h! Nkya madó. IPF.3PL-OP.1SG-braid-REC too ADD CL-chief’s.hat OH! OPT.2pl-do CL-good.things 3. Oh! They together will braid me the (special) hat too! (chorus repeated)

B-na-pn-a k n -pk . Nkya madó 3x PF.3PL-OP1SG-cloth- APPL too ADD CL-cloth OH OPT2PL-do CL-good.things 4. Oh! They clothed me with a cloth indeed. (chorus repeated)

-gn n b-ka . CL-circumcision with CL- fierceness OH! 6. The circumcision has (its) fierceness, Oh!

N-kya ma-dó wo-b-isi k-tà-a-yóo, OPT.2PL-do CL-good.things of- CL- day CL-of-ADI-CL-partner 7. May you do today the good, bonding things,

W-janga n ba-pebu o. Nkya madó. PF.2SG-stand.right ADD CL- cushion Oh OPT2PL-do CL-good.things 8. Oh! You stood right with help of the cushions! (chorus repeated)

The chorus expresses an exhortation to do ‘all the good things,’ which the circumcision requires. This exhortation is expressed in the chorus (not repeated in the glosses). Its optative reflects the speaker’s desire to make the appropriate behaviour of the novices happen. The much repeated chorus is alternated with references to changes in the lives of the novices. Since the circumcised is now considering his partner’s sisters as his own sisters, he can consequently not marry them any more. These so-called ‘sisters-in-law,’ which are mentioned in line 2, have become new relatives.

131This excerpt is from circumcision song 3 on tape 27; The social importance of gn ‘circumcision’ and its festivities developed considerably during the twentieth century. Although this dating might suggest that circumcision practices were introduced during exposure to the Swahili traders, others say that Budu circumcision was always restricted to the sub-lineages that organise festivities sealing bonds with the sub-lineage of the organising lineage’s choice. Perhaps the form of the circumcision changed under Swahili influence. First, in former times the age of the candidates was younger. Budu project director Anzabati, for instance, does not remember circumcision candidates to be younger than aged eight (personal communication), whereas Czekanowski (1924:297) makes mention of toddlers that go through the initiation when they are weaned. Budu inititiation in the 1920s seemed related to the transition of being a child (belonging to the blood of the women) towards being a man (belonging to the blood of the men). Today, circumcision is organised for boys between 8 and 15 years old. Blood brothers of the same bhua gn ’occasion of circumcision’ are informed of the male role in society including their sexual performance. Budu circumcision is nevertheless not in the first place an initiation into malehood, as among the related Komo. Second, another difference is the size of the group. Circumcision used to be ministered to larger groups of boys representing an entire neighbourhood or small village. Nowadays festivities are limited to small groups of befriended parents; resulting in a different use of the term for blood brother ‘ayóo’ simply signifying ‘intimate friend’ in Budu today.

315 The song production arises from an attempt to keep the boys from taking foolish risks with infections. The use of performative language in this song can be considered as instrumental to the healing of wounds. Important for the performative character of the song is the expression of the mixed feelings of the circumcised, providing an outlet for their doubts during this new phase of their social personhood. Line 1, for instance, begins with an affirmation of the desirability of the circumcision ‘the circumcision has its attractiveness!’ while the same song repeats the same phrase in the opposite sense in line 6 as: ‘the circumcision has its fierceness!’ In comment on table 5.FFF such affirmations of the hearers needs were interpreted as the most important positive politeness strategy with reference to Brown and Levinson (1987:101-129). By attending to the needs and interests of the persons in transition, circumcision songs provide an outlet for confusing feelings, which is instrumental for physical restoration, because it helps the novices to avoid foolish risks: by expressing their doubts, the needs of the novices are officially recognised, which prevents rebellion.132 The promises, the exaggerated interest, the solidarity and even the joke in the last line are indications of the positive face-saving strategies expressed with this performative language.133 By the use of this kind of language the speakers express their solidarity with the ones whose social personhood is threatened by an important change in their lives. Upon the operation134 obligations that bind circumcision candidates are announced in the form of a decree by bakumu-kumu ‘the village elders’. Nanga Mbunzi (1992:3) provides the French translation135 of a Budu text that he omits. A similar text in Budu was given to me by Francis Abati (including the glossing, personal communication):

7.2.6.6 Excerpt with Performative Speech in a Decree

-gn y-mba m-ombí ng-ya ang-kpata-ka ma-pan k-ng CL-circumcision CL.OPT-know CL-person DET-REL NEG-follow-REP CL-law CL-LOGOP 1. That the circumcision may afflict the one who did not observe its prescriptions ;

N m-ombí a-kws kábú ba-pebu. and CL-person IPF.3SG-suffer illness of CL-cushion 2. So that person will suffer the ‘disease of the pillows’.

W-ang-kwaa km n b-oí b- ba-ganja b-s IPF2SG-NEG-sleep not with CL-woman CL-of CL-circum.brothers CL-yours 3. You shall not sleep with the wives of your circumcision brothers

132One of the life stories in the corpus (text 16 on tape 00, recorded October 1988), tells about a young boy who runs away with open wounds. This blood brother of the person who tells the story thereby risked his life, since his wounds got infected and he got seriously ill. The poor young man died as a result. 133The comment in the last line about cushions is spoken teasingly to the circumcision-partner. 134From the 1950s most educated parents insist that their children are circumcised under hygienic circumstances, by preference in the hospital. This has decreased the importance of the ‘master of ceremony’ of circumcisions. 135“La circoncision maudit celui qui ne l’observe pas et ne bénéficiera que beaucoup de coussins (expression pour désigner un maladif qui se sert de beaucoup de coussins pour se soulager de ses douleurs). Vous ne pouvez pas faire la relation sexuelle avec les femmes de vos baganja, ni leurs filles… de peur que vous ne deveniez lépreux. Vous ne ferez aucun mal envers ton ayóo. Les bamoya doivent s’abstenir des aliments suivants : Les arachides, la viande d’éléphant, le rat de gambi, lièvre, pendant que les plaies ne sont pas encore guéries.’ Note that the ’illness of the cushions’ is interpreted by Abati in a different sense; which in itself is an indication of the anachronistic nature of such prescriptions. Circumcision nowadays is done in the hospital without village elders.

316

n ba-sa b-b ktaa, Dh wa-t-kws km kebu-kebu, with CL-daughter CL-their either For 2SG-NEGOPT-be.sick not leprosity nor with their daughters, 4. For you to prevent leprosy….

Wa-t-ka km a-yóo a-s b-bb p m-nganá. 2SG-NEGOPT-do not CL-partner CL-your CL-evil even CL-one 7. You shall not do any evil to your circumcision partner.

Ba-moya b-ang-dyaá km slng n toku n smba n sibia, CL-initiates IPF.3PL-NEG-eat not peanuts and elephant and Gambian.rat and wild.rabbit 6. The initiates shall eat no peanuts, no elephant meat, no Gambian rat and no wild rabbits.

Ngbinga ng-ya l-p b- -gn l-ang-ba km--. Period DET-REL CL-wound CL-of CL-circumcision CL-NEG-scar non-RAF 7. During the period when the wounds of the circumcision have not yet developed into scars.

Embedded decrees tend to begin with and opening sentence that contains either polite vocatives or first plural inclusive forms. This excerpt without opening sentence is different. In line 1, the Optative is used by the village elders to express a curse, illustrating the performative character of this language use, which either keeps the circumcised from breaking their vows, or, in the case of unloyal partners, it is believed to trigger real illnesses. In line 2, use of the obscure idiomatic expression kábú bapebu ‘disease of the pillows’ indicates a performative setting. It refers to rheumatism or to a disease that results from a failure to abstain from the use of comfortable cushions that the master of ceremony prohibited (cf. line 8 of the circumcision song in section 7.2.6.4). The expression p mngana ‘not any’ in line 5 is idiomatic as well. With excerpts of three performative genres, the nature of language that is used in institutionalised settings has been illustrated.

7.2.6.7 A Contrastive Analysis

The two sets of distinguished genres were discussed. The performative language in the positively distinguished genres seemed to reflect institutional settings, where the speaker is endowed with the authority to accomplish changes for the addressee. Non-performative language use was not specified. A contrastive analysis will further investigate its nature. Several negatively distinguished genres exhibit an extremely explicit expression of information. Medical information, work orders, proverbs and riddles are all distinguished for their explicit information. However, although the explicitness of these genres is obvious, it apparently is not the distinctive feature of the non-performative genres, because several of the genres on the lefthand side of table 7.7B rely on implicit information. Whereas performative language seems to characterise genres with institutional settings, descriptive language is typical for non-institutional genres. It merely describes actions and does not accomplish anything by its use. Where performative genres function as speech acts accomplishing changes by their mere use, non-performative language lacks this power. Its long expositions are used to explain or to describe social realities, while short and witty proverbs refer metaphorically to reality. Drama, as proverbs is used to present various perspectives on social realities. In medical information addressees are informed concerning the prevention of illnesses. However, no healing is accomplished while the genre is read aloud; primary health care is only realised in the long term, if the addressees apply the principles provided in the text. In contrast, the excerpts with performative language use in the

317 sections 7.6.4-6 illustrate language that contributes to the healing of the addressees. The use of language in these songs is meant to accomplish immediate changes.

7.2.6.8 Excerpt with Non-Performative Language Use in Drama136

Whereas all other non-performative genres are descriptive, drama seems to consist of reported speech with an arbitrary stage remark, as illustrated in section 7.2.1.2. Nevertheless, drama is used to comment on developments in society. It thereby also ‘describes’ stereotypical situations and caricatures social roles, be it in an indirect way. The following example is provided to illustrate how drama is used to portray a society without the accomplishment of any direct effect:

COMMENDANT: Hé ! tata, yáka awa! IKWKW: m!? Nya kawa? Commander Hey, father(L), come(L) here(L) NAME Me to.INF.burn coffee? 1. Commander: “Hey, father, come here.” Ikweikwei: “Me?! Roast coffee”?

COMMENDANT: Yáka awa, dis. I: n-ang-m n kawa a-tà dh, Commander: Come(L) here (L) guy(L) NAME IPF1SG-NEG-me ADD coffee CL-ADI fresh 2. Commander: “ Come here, guy”! Ikweikwei: “I don’t have fresh coffee, ng-ya n-mw-eni aka. DET-REL PF.1SG-drink-GERUND here. 3. that I am using now.”

COMMENDANT:Ozo-finga nani, yo nyama, yáka awa. I: Mw-aná a-sm, Commander: you-insult(L) who(L) of(L) beast(L) come(L) here(L) NAME: CL- child CL-mine, Commander: “Which animal do you insult ? Come here! 4. Ikweikwei: “Son,

ma-n wa-kpakpa y-áka baa, nya-s kawa tá ? what-INT IPF.PR.2SG-repeat CL-word likewise CONS.1SG-burn-MOD coffee just? why do you keep repeating that word, like that, what if I first just leave to roast the coffee?

And babhla bo-na-f-éni-s-m. IMP.give grill IPF.3PL-OP1SG-rise-COND-first- me 5. “Give me a grill, then if they can first percolate me some coffee…”

(A-b a-nunga ban,y tá n kynda) PF.PR.3SG-be to-say likewise he just with travel (He says so being about to depart).

BA-SUDA :Yáka awa. IKWKW:T-y-éni kawa. CL- soldier: come (L) here(L) NAME PF.1PL-roast-PL coffee. 6. Soldiers: “ Come here”! Ikweikwei: “We are roasting coffee.”

BA-SUDA: Yaka awa. (K n kyenda IKWKW:) T-y-éni kawa. CL- soldier: come(L) here (L)! Indeed with travel NAME PF.1PL- drink-PL coffee. Soldiers: “Come here”! 7. (While he is leaving indeed): Ikweikwei: “We are roasting coffee”!

136Excerpt of a Play written by Willy Bambinesenge 1998, performed in a public school with a large audience

318 The excerpt illustrates caricatures of soldiers with their authoritarian statements. The commander of the soldiers is characterised by his incoherent speech, resulting from the language barrier between the Lingalophone military commander and the old Budu-speaking man. This is illustrated with various misunderstandings in this excerpt. The word plays in the first two lines underlines a painful lack of cohesion, signaled by the Budu remark in line 4: “Why do you keep repeating that word?” The word game in line 1 concerns the Lingala command kaya awa ‘come here’ and the Swahili loanword ka(ha)wa ‘coffee’ used as reference to this popular drink. In line 2, another word play, namely between the humiliating Lingala dis ‘guy’ and the old man’s interpretation of this address as the Budu attribution dhi ‘fresh’, as if the word referred to raw, fresh picked coffee beans.137 The language barrier that characterises the relation between the Congolese military and the population is hilariously exaggerated in this play. Lingala is the language spoken in the Capital; it is associated with popular music and is used as the language of command in the national army. During the regime of Mobutu (1965-1996) Lingala was used in political activities and in speeches. In Isiro obligatory speeches were held in a football stadium, where public floggings where also organised. During these meetings ‘messianic’ songs in Bangala were sung in praise of mister President (Van der Poort 1973:278).138 Former president Mobutu continued the colonial policy of assigning soldiers at maximum distance from their home village, in order to prevent the development of strong, armed lineages. The resulting language barrier between soldiers and the local population is obvious in the text excerpt. Lingala loanwords apparently are suitable means to make caricatures of short, incohesive verbal exchanges. The use of jokes with the Lingala clause-final–te affix for negation is another indication of its association with prohibitions. Consider the next line from the same Play:

Peti plobleme. Ba-peti ba-weza te. FRENCH FRENCH CL-FRENCH CL- SWAHILI LINGALA :NEGATION A small problem: the children cannot do it.

Swahili is a regional language spoken in the Wamba district where the Budu population is situated. It is better known than military Lingala or educational French. The line above contains elements from all three languages to convey its authoritarian tone. Lingala loanwords are not integrated in Budu storytelling, or at least they distinguish no pattern of language use by their occurrence. The only genre that exhibits a significant use of Lingala loanwords is drama. In drama these loanwords are included in manifold code-switching, which apparently is understood well enough to ridicule soldiers. Drama is used to describe social realities, such as the interaction with Lingalophone military men. It describes something by means of implicit communication rather than with explicit formulations, unlike the following excerpt of travel instructions. The excerpt from drama was included to illustrate the special combination of non-performative and implicit communication. The contrast between performative and descriptive language use is now illustrated with the following two texts. They concern a non-performative travel instruction and some pastoral instructions about an upcoming trip. Most non-performative descriptions represent explicit information.The first excerpt is from the main genre of work orders that includes a few travel instructions:

137Although the coffee market collapsed at the end of the 1980s, most Budu have their own coffee bushes and roast their own supply of coffee. The drinking of coffee is popular among men. 138Kamwangamalu (1998:189) gives national percentages of 14 % Lingala speakers (Kinshasa District, Equator Province and Upper-Zaire province) against 23% Swahili speakers (, Upper-Zaire province, Kivu province; with respectively 12 and 10% Kikongo and Ciluba).

319

7.2.6.9 Excerpt with Non-Performative Language Use in Travel Instructions139

W-sa -ngbaa, ng-y y -knd y- i-deku. CONS.2SG-leave CL-road DET-REL of CL- hand CL-of CL –left 11. You left the road which is on your left hand.

Wa-kumonio-ta an -ngbaa ng-y-y ya-kumonio ak kbhaa kawa. IPF.2SG-enter-now on CL-road DET-REL -there CL.IPF-enter in field of coffee (SW) 12. Now you enter the road, 13. the particular one there, that is going into the coffee plantation,

Ng-ya-ak ba-mu-sóko b Kb. ya-y wa-kumonio ínaní. DET-REL-there IPF.3PL-OP.3SG-call like chicken. REL-there IPF.2SG–enter here 14. That one there they are calling : ‘Kobo’. 15. This one there, you have to enter here.

Wo-boy–eni ínaní ak kbhaa o kawa, Wa-ka, PF.2SG-arrive-COND here at field of coffee, IPF.2SG-do 16. If you arrive here at the coffee field,

nd wa-k-nijo n -knd y i-deku. when IPF.2SG-HAB.descending ADD CL-hand CL-of CL-left 17. When you are going downhill to the left.

W-t-j ínaní a-mdh a magasan, ya-y w-abhi. PF.2SG-CONS-arrive there at-downside at shop (FR) REL-there CONS.2SG-go 18. Having arrived there before a shop, a one that you pass.

W-syeni magasan, w-tapwa mw-aná lisíni. PF.2SG-leave-COND shop (FR) CONS.2SG-cross CL-child of river 19. If you leave the shop behind you, you pass a small river,

W-sa w-t-tapa ak-deto -kpangba, ak-bya ak kanisa, CONS.2SG-go CONS.2SG-CONS-cross PROG-climb CL-hill PROG-arrive at church (SW) 20. When you have passed it, you are climbing a hill and approaching a church.

Ng-ya-k w jn ba-mu-sóko b Mandati. DET-REL-GIVEN of past NPF.3PL-OP.3SG-call like Mandati. 21. the one that was called Mandati in former days.

The procedural text above contains a sequence of consecutive forms that follow a preceding imperative in one of the first omitted lines of this text: nangwá ‘go; travel’. These instructions provide explicit information so as to avoid any misunderstanding. Lines 14 and 15 specify places. The difference of new information with given information is indicated with determiners and anaphoric extensions. In lines 15 and 18, yay has no determiner since it refers to new information; specifying a particular spot the traveller is to encounter. A functional adjective is used to render information explicit in line 19. The conditional that is used in line 16 also renders information explicit. Some formulations in this text indicate its spontaneous production in reaction to a question from a traveller. Line 17 is a clear example of an ad hoc formulated clause with an auxiliary that is not

139This excerpt from travel instructions (a sub-genre of work-orders) was recorded in 1989, tape 8 text 23, author anonymous

320 followed by an infinitive. The sentence stops and continues with a syntactic durative, instead of a lexical durative that the use of the auxiliary would have represented. Also line 21 with its use of an obscure associative marker probably represents a mispronunciation in spontaneous speech. The travel instructions above represent a clear example of non-performative instructions, which are produced on the spot, upon request by a traveller. The descriptive language use in this text is not performative. It does not bring the traveller to his destination. The use of explicit descriptions in neutral mood reflects that the speaker specifies the route instead of ‘making the trip happen’. It represents non- performative language use, although this particular text is not proto-typical for the dimension with its various long infinitives (long infinitives function as distinction of performative language use). In contrast, the following excerpt from parables & other pulpit speech represents pastoral instructions that, by their mere use, contribute to the organisation of an upcoming trip. The head pastor of Ibambi instructs his fellow pastors about a trip to the main town of the Wamba district called Wamba:

7.2.6.10 Excerpt with Performative Speech in Pulpit Speech about an upcoming Trip140

Ta-súo a-nsa akjonokio ínaní. K anani no-ni-sig-io, IPF.1PL-FUT to.INF go PROg- meet there therefore IPF.1SG-OP2PL-tell-APL 4. We will go at the meeting there. Therefore I tell you,

B T-ky-eni idó (2x)! Ta-t-s-éni km ínaní, That.IRR OPT.1PL-do-2PL good IPF.1PL-NEG-go-2PL not there 6. We should behave ourselves (2x). 7. Let’s not, while going there,

b sa-sa b-ombí. Ba-bio-ta ak-ndnd-an-aka b: that leave-RED CL-person IPF.PR. PL-go-now PROG-cry-REC-REP that neglect anybody. 8. They are at the moment crying out to each other in despair:

Tá-dya dh-ta ma-n? Tá-ka tá-n? IPF.1PL-eat MOD-now what-INTER IPF.1PL-do just-INTER 9“What now shall we eat?! What can we do?”

Na-n-mba a-ngbinga ng-ya ta k taa, b taa y--ja. IPF.1SG-OP2PL-know CL-period DET-REL now indeed hunger, that hunger CL-IRR-great 10. I inform you of the period of hunger, that the hunger could be considerable.

, no-ni-sig-io-ta n ba-pasitele, RES IPFPR.SG-OP2PL-say-APL-now you CL-pastor 11. Well, you, the pastors, I hereby tell you,

ng-ba-b ta-k-ka s n n ta: DET-REL-there IPF.1PL-HAB-do we with you work as you and I are doing the same work,

b -k-n-ta ya-ak: na-w n n ak-sig-io: That OPT-listen-2PL –now REL-here IPF.1SG-TEMPAF ADD you PROG-say-APL 12. Listen now to the following manner in which I am declaring this to you:

A-sb -knd-eni y-osisékio b t-ky-n ban: CL-GOD IPF.3SG-like-GER CL-IPF.3SG-should that 1PL.OPT-do-2PL as follows: 13. God is preferring that we should please be doing as follows:

140Main pastor Basitande-Juna, gives instructions for a meeting in June 1992, Ibambi, fragment of text 15 on tape 29.

321

[……………………………]

s tá-bio a-dya-kaka ta k h We IPF.1PL–be to-INF.eat-REP now also together 21. We now will also be eating

n b-ang ng-ba ba-nka aki an Wamba. with CL-others DET-REL IPF.3PL-come there in Wamba with the others who will arrive there, in Wamba.

Bo-bio a-n-dya-kaka ta k idó. Tá-ngwa anan ta k ban, CONS.3PL-be to-INF.eat-RED now also good IPF.1PL-travel there now also likewise 22. They then will be eating well. 23. We now will travel there like

B to-bi-eni ta k amatí ma-j. that IPF.1PL-be-COND now also at-inside of CL –peace 24. That we now may also be staying in peace.

The speech above addresses about thirty pastors who are preparing for their church-related trip to the town of Wamba, about 75 kilometres from Ibambi. It represents an attempt to make things happen in an orderly and pleasant manner. To prevent the Ibambi group being a burden to their Wamba hosts, addressees are charged with the responsibility of bringing some palm oil and some food. In lines 12 to 20 specific food items are mentioned, which particular pastors are to bring, including a pig which the speaker promises to contribute. The statements of the head pastor, who has the performative authority to organise church related trips, exceed merely descriptive formulations or the expression of an ideal. It represents a speech act by which the desired preparations are delegated. This makes the language performative. Some distinctions of the performative character of this language use are the optative forms that occur in the lines 6 and 7, the plural imperative in line 12 and the Imperfect future forms in line 5.141 In most ‘pulpit’ speech the performative authority of the speaker is assumed de facto. It is interesting that, in the lines 11 to 13, the pastor indirectly refers to his authority to speak ‘on behalf of God;’ possibly since he addresses other pastors with the same authority. The address ‘you the pastors’ in line 11 is comparable to polite vocatives occurring in most performative texts, while the ‘we and’ is typical for in particular embedded decrees. The remarks in the lines 8 to 11 express possible reasons for the addressees to share the responsibility for the success of the encounter with other believers in Wamba. The head pastor cannot carry this responsibility all by himself and therefore uses his performative authority to include others, delegating various contributions. With first plural forms he emphasizes the solidarity between speaker and hearer. Lines 11 to 13 could be paraphrased with: “We, you and I, we will …” Apparently such expressions of solidarity are essential to performative speech. In addition to the solidarity markers that co-occur with other distinctions of performative speech in Budu, first inclusive plural forms co-occur with Imperfect Futures as a by-product of the carefully produced statements that the speaker makes about the audience. The prepared production probably contributes to the speech act, whereby the speaker seems able to ‘makes things happen’. The text could be paraphrased as: “I hereby insist that we behave in an orderly way during our stay at Wamba.” The relation between the fifth and sixth dimension of variation was discussed in section 5.2.5. In line 25 the idiomatic expression amatí maj ’in peace’ is used. It represents a well- known final statement in texts containing moral advice, in greetings, in blessings and in some parables (see appendix 5F). Also the specification idó ‘good’ typically occurs in these genres (see lines 22 and 6).

141The adverbial clitic súo ‘later’ is, for reasons of emphasis attached to the subject prefix instead of the verb complex.

322 These expressions, similar also to the specification k h n bang ‘together with others’ in line 21, allay possible disharmony. Group harmony could easily be threatened during the days just before the rice-harvest period that usually implies a considerable food shortage as indicated in line 10. 142 The text excerpts thus far illustrate the differences between performative genres and non- performative genres.

7.2.6.11 Conclusion about Performative Language Use in Budu

Concluding the discussed text excerpts it seems that performative language may be used to accomplish changes by delegating responsibility, either by expressing solidarity with the addressee’s needs or by charging the addressees with part of the speaker’s responsibility for others, expecting their solidarity. Texts representing performative performances exploit solemn vocatives, the applicative of the verb sugo ‘to say’, an emphasis on the future and long infinitives. The long infinitives are used to attend to the need of the hearer, indicating particularly embarrassing situations, where the use of a specific genre is an institutionalised way of reducing loss of face. Positively distinguished genres were interpreted as performative language use. They are foremost used in institutional settings as a positive politeness strategy in the case of face-threatening situations. In non-performative language use, long infinitives are only arbitrarily used to describe a situation. Travel instructions merely describe an advisable route, specifying possible points of recognition. Descriptions facilitate recognition of a reality or, in drama and in other implicit communication, such as proverbs, they may facilitate identification with familiar social situations. Non- performative language exploits descriptions without necessarily explaining new information. It may be either explicit or else it relies on implicit communication.

7.3 Analysis of Conventional Language Use in Sixteen Main Genres

7.3.1 Introduction

In this last section of chapter 7, linguistic distinctions of genres are discussed against the background of the six discussed parameters. Where this seems relevant in the light of the presented functional interpretation, cultural or historical information is added in order to explain genre distinctions. The sixteen main genres of the researched corpus are discussed separately, including remarks concerning the form and function of each genre. For each text type both form and function are described in an order that suits mere expository purposes. Most genres are distinguished for several parameters of communication. However, each parameter has genres that most clearly reflect the extreme end of the distinguished communication. The most obvious manifestation of a parameter is identified with most forms of the corresponding cluster. Consider table 7.8, with special symbols for the second-most important genres for each dimension. New genres seem to exhibit the most distinctions as if these are used to remove ambiguity concerning the communicative status of relatively new genres. Because the most important genres for each dimension

142In July food preparation and water supply represent enormous efforts to hosts, since most women are at work on the fields, where the full grown rice is not yet harvested. They are either chasing away birds from the ripening crops or busy with the harvesting. At the same time the men are conducting meetings, because the male peak time for working on the field is earlier in the year, when the fields are cleared from heavy trees and bushy vines at the end of the dry season in March. The combination of rice harvest and meetings represents a heavy burden for the hosting cooks.

323 are not differentiating the dimensions, the second- and eventually third-most important genres for each dimension are printed with special symbols in this overview of differences between the dimensions:143

Table 7.8 Overview of the sixteen main genres and their distinctions for the six parameters

Genre/parameter Temporally- Explicit Directive Community Spontaneo Performative Connective Inform- communica -Involved us Language Presentation ation tion Expression Production of Events

1. Pact story - - + + - 144 2. Ghost story + - + + 3. Trickster story145 + - + + + n.a. 4. Animal story + - - + + + 5. Life story + + - - +

6. Cultural documen. + + - - - - 7. Riddles + + + - -

8.Parable & pulpit146 - - + n.a. - + 9. Proverbs + - - - -

10. Medical informat. - - + -

11. Church songs - - + - + 12. Party song - + + n.a. n.a.

13. Individual song - - + + - +

14. Circumcis.song - - + + - 15. Drama - - + - -

16. Work order - + + - -

7.3.2 Genre Features in Each of the Main Text Types

Although the genres of language use were defined using extra-linguistic situational characteristics, prototypical language use can be observed in each genre. This prototypical language use is related to expected occurrences that are deduced from observed frequencies for each genre. Biber and Finegan (1991) established prototypical text types for English. And Biber (1995) summarised the text types which Hared and Biber observed for Somali (Biber 1995: 314-359). Following Biber c.s., I will refer to these prototypical variations of language use as to text types. In this section the prototypical use of genre

143Genres with over ten distinctions for a dimension were not considered as the most characteristic for a dimension; they seem to simply reflect the establishing of a new genre of language use in relation to existing dimensions of variation. Consider table 7.2 for the exact amount of distinctions represented by each plus or minus symbol in table 7.8. 144The embedded story songs in ghost stories determine the directive nature of this language use, see table 6B. 145The embedded reproaches in trickster stories determine the directive nature of this language use, see table 6.A. 146The embedded prayers in pulpit speech seem to determine the directive nature of this language use, see the excerpt in section 7.2.3.6.

324 features in Budu is described for the sixteen main genre categories that were used in the researched corpus with reference to table 7.8.

1. ‘Pact Stories’ migenú pan Distinguished as: temporally-connective presentation of events; implicit information; non-directive communication; not involving the community; spontaneous production; non-performative language use.

Function Pact stories are told to entertain visitors or young relatives. Unlike other stories with human protagonists they tend to lack explicit moral lessons, because the story itself provides an indirect comment on a certain pan ‘law’ provided in the setting. ‘Pact stories’ invariably narrate the failure of the protagonists to abide by a certain ‘pact’, decree, oath, instruction, promise or agreement. Pact stories represent a form of distraction after a day of hard labour in the fields. They share the absence of any appeal to the addressee with animal stories and life stories, being non-directive. Pact stories represent ‘face-to-face’ exchanges, for example in joking. The fun of these jokes depends on the knowledge shared by members of the same society, which is necessarily unspecified. The genre represents implicit information, and, despite its face-to-face interaction, it reflects community involvement.

Form The pact story is the story genre with most distinguished concern for temporally-connective presentation of events due its extensive repetitions. The core of the text is conventionally presented as the ‘pact’ or pan of the story. The first reported speech quotes the pact with thematic elements that are repeated throughout the story. Pact stories consist of 26% reported speech, which is not surprising considering the elaborate language use in the embedded speech genres namely decrees, thoughts and guarantees.

2. ‘Ghost stories’ migenú babh Distinguished as: temporally-connective presentation of events; implicit information; directive communication; involving the community; spontaneous production; non-performative language use.

Form Ghost stories consist of 25% reported speech. The embedded story songs and (dis-)agreements in this genre determine its directive distinction. Ghost stories contain a considerable number of phrases or wordings that do not seem to contribute to the development of the story. The use of empty fillers reflects the time consideration that is typical for the ad-hoc production that characterises ghost stories. The narrator exploits redundancy to generate more time to formulate the next phrase. Ghost stories are represented by long texts with circumlocutive language use, distinguished as a non-performative genre and used for informal community meetings.

Function The spontaneous production for which the language use in this genre is overtly distinguished is the direct result of its ad hoc use during mourning sessions. The community-involved communication in ghost stories is deeply engrained in the social life of Budu farmers in a ‘wild’ rain forest. To explain these two factors that contribute to shaping this genre this section includes a considerable amount of background information. First, the spontaneous production in ghost stories is the natural consequence of its function. Most ghost stories were recorded during mourning occasions in 1988 in Ibambi. Some were produced

325 during writers’ workshops in 2001. As soon as the village drums announce a case of death, village inhabitants in the surrounding fields return to join the mourning. At night all members of the neighbourhood stay at the home of the deceased to remain awake outside during the hours of darkness. During a mourning period of three days, spirits of the deceased are expected to be released from their bodies. Around the deceased the company of the living gathers together at a time when the spirit world is considered to be closest. Storytelling and singing keep mourners aware of its unwanted approaches. Second, since ghost stories function by keeping the community of the living together during mourning sessions they also reflect community involvement. Ghost story telling affirms community life in the safe presence of the village while it provides an outlet for fears of the ghosts that roam in the dark forest.147 The use of ghost stories during mourning determines its overt distinction as community involvement. Ghost stories include mocking songs, by which villagers succeed in escaping supernatural temptations by addressing an abh ‘ghost’. Mocking the ghosts is an important element of mourning. The community of the living celebrates its unity while the ghosts of the ancestors seem close by because they have just taken one of the community members. The role of music is illustrated clearly in a story about a young boy with a drum who protects his elder sisters in the forest at night.148 When his sisters are all sleeping, he discovers the presence of a luring abh ‘ghost,’ who claims her vines, which they happen to have cut during daytime. The ghost is stopped from punishing the children by the music of the little boy, who beats his drum while singing his mocking song. The lesson of most stories in this genre is that it is essential for villagers to stay together in the forest, listening to even the weakest male representatives.149 The forest is apparently a place where overnight hikes are to be avoided. The use of mocking songs, similar to other embedded songs reflects the role of music and celebration in genres with community involvement. Some background information is provided now to clarify the use of this particular genre during mourning. To appreciate the performative role ghost stories play in affirming community life, three aspects of Budu culture are discussed. First, the division of labour seems relevant. Women and children are charged with the responsibility of supplying the village community with firewood and water. Ghost stories invariably concern lonely villagers who dwell in the forest by themselves or in small groups of other women or children. Ghost stories express warnings to stay close to the village community and its rules.150 Lone women and children in the forest invariably meet an abh ‘ghost’ in the appearance of a human being. This ghost consequently tries to deceive them with material goods or by means of enchanting songs. The ghost’s offer is invariably described as a tp ’attractive’. Less socially inclined individuals might behave in irresponsible ways when exposed to such temptations, is the message conveyed in many ghost stories. The genre invariably has women and children as its most vulnerable protagonists to

147Wisdom of community leaders is required when relatives struggle to accept an untimely death, seeking an outlet for their frustrated feelings with speculative accusations. Even natural deaths can be related to any animosity towards the deceased. Community members that are suspected of entertaining less friendly thoughts, for instance if they recently had conflicts with the deceased, risk being accused of ‘causing death.’ In the church this risk of disharmonious outbursts is reduced by explicit prohibitions by its leaders. 148This is text 9 on tape 7 by Mangadhima. 149The ghost story even ends with the moral lesson: Mugenú ngnan wakknda pana b, ya nd y bakypana w b, gue a mt ngwa w bnaa. ‘This story here likes to be teaching the following fact: man has authority over women.” 150In August 1990 Bayaka Aloya told a ghost story explaining that the village community should never let pregnant women depart to the forest to give birth in a quiet spot, since exposure to hardships would be too risky. This story with text 5 on tape 7 is an example of warnings for women about the dangers represented by the lonely forest. It starts with the reported speech of a woman, who explains that the village is too noisy for her during her pregnancy. The story makes clear that the forest with its solitude and physical rest can be attractive especially to women. In Budu culture, where women are expected to work whenever the need arises, the forest represents the absence of social pressure and freedom from obligations to do physical work.

326 warn these ‘weaker’ members of society. The implicit representation of community values is obvious from its distinctions as community-involved language. Ghost stories thereby imprint children and women with the social rules of the village community and prevent their identification with the wild forest world. Second, farmers’ natural fears for the vegetation seem relevant. The Budu economy exhibits a horticulturalist orientation. This explains the farmers’ inclination to hostility towards the forest, which they are constantly clearing to grow their crops, as Towles (1993a:12, 13) suggests (summarised here in my own words): The forest with its one hundred and fifty foot trees and secondary growth that may block the sky in daylight is a dark place, where ‘dark ghosts’ roam, similar to dark moonless nights. The forest represents a hostile environment, in which dangers lurk. Poisonous snakes, toads, fishes and even leafs which seem edible can be deadly. One depends on sunlight to distinguish between the species of the rainforests habitation. Horticulturists apply a slash-and-burn culture, which makes them both depend on and have fear of the forest. Clearing fields is an enormous task executed by strong men. Between burning and cutting a plot of forest and the final hoeing to make it usable as a field, vines usually overgrow the whole place that was cleared. In removing the undergrowth of the forest, one can be seriously hurt by dangerous leaves. The fields and the village belong to the cleared places where the light of sun and full moon can penetrate. From 1971-1973, this African American researcher Towles lived in the forest South of the Budu area. The fear of ‘dangers that lure in dark forests’ is not only a projection of possible fears of the living environment of Budu farmers from the perspective of the researcher’s New York background,151 it also indicates aspects of an insider’s perspective on the foreign environment that the forest once represented for savannah-dwelling Nyali groups, to which both Mbo and Budu belong. The residual fear of an environment that is hostile to horticulturalists explains some concerns that are expressed through ghost stories. The genre is instrumental in bringing farmers together in their common combat with the overwhelming growth of forest vegetation, which explains its performative and community-involved language use. Third, historical factors seem to have contributed to fear of the forest and its roaming ghosts among horticulturalists. The migratory past of the Budu and related groups and their origins in the Semliki valley offers a likely explanation for the deeply engrained fear of the forest among these farmers.152 The risk of getting lost in enormous stretches of uninhabited forest without finding a dry place for fires in itself is enough to instil fear. Several traumatising encounters in the forest they travelled through enlarged this fear among the migrating groups. The forest in fact was the scene of ongoing violence between 1860 (Mangbetu, Zande and Sudanic razzias) and 1920 (Swahili, colonial and exploratory expeditions) not to mention the rebellion (1960-‘64) and violence by looting soldiers (in 1977 and 1991). Ghost stories reflect the less pleasant impression that unknown parts of forest made on the Budu in the past. Ghost stories voice these impressions and therefore they are instrumental in uniting members of a migrated society, which explains their distinctively community-involved language use. On top of reminiscences of these traumatising impressions, there are several accounts of the violence suffered by inhabitants of the Ituri rainforest. Pierre Salmon collected descriptions of military expeditions by captain Bodart, whom he quotes to have been reporting in 1896 that ‘Every day, between Mawambi and Irumu, we meet 7 to 8 bodies who died from exhaustion during the chilly nights around a campfire. Some are partly eaten by predators.153 (1977:25)’. In 1924 Jan Czeckanowsky, a Polish

151Towles’ work evidences his outstanding field research. Unfortunately his initial field notes were lost during his evacuation to Uganda in 1975 during the Zairisation, when the government forced all foreigners to leave the country. By his malaria-related and untimely death his work unfortunately became available in 1993, only posthumously, through efforts of the Royal Institution in Brussels who assigned his colleague-anthropologist Turnbull to edit Towles’ manuscripts. 152As both scholar Vansina (1990:352 note 18) and former Budu chief Baboya (1992:10) seem to contend. 153Between 1897 and 1900 a group as large as 2,500 men roamed through Ituri forest in the aftermath of the Ndirfi mutiny. The Ndirfi mutiny is an indication of the extreme violence that impacted the Budu as this second national rebellion against colonial authorities took place some miles distant from their area. During that mutiny

327 anthropologist, reporting on the first ‘scientific’ expedition in the area, mentions that the porters of Stanley’s ruthless expedition were apparently left behind in exhaustion or at least this is how he found them in the form of ‘bones and skulls’ on the same roads in 1907. Finally anthropologist Towler (1993), who lived among Budu-related Mbo people in the 1970s, describes Mbo expressions of the fears for ghosts of strangers that died during wars and slave caravans. The remarks of these three foreigners indicate the traumatising presence of bodies left as a result of violence. In most Bantu cultures ghosts are considered to be lost outside their native villages representing the presence of their ancestors. The implication of lost ghosts near the presence of deserted bodies concerns people more than the sight of skulls and bones. The ghost stories in the researched corpus reflect historic encounters and related concerns. This historical background explains the value of protection against the ghosts of the deceased by its inhabitants. It also clarifies the performative role of ghost stories with mocking songs during mourning sessions of the community.

3. Trickster stories migenú Sdh Distinguished as: temporally-connective presentation of events; implicit information; directive communication; involves the community; spontaneous production; performative language use occurs only in the embedded reproaches and guarantees, the genre itself being indistinct for this dimension.

Form Trickster stories contain redundancy due to the repeated reported speech with their average of 27% speech fragments. The recurrent speech genre embedded in trickster stories is the guarantee, which is one of the most circumlocutive speech genres, presenting tricksters lies with all their deceptive emphasis on the truth with an oath formula. This genre also contains embedded reproaches from the antagonist, uttered in indignation upon the exposure of these lies. The urgent appeal for a reaction expressed in reproaches determines the directive distinctions of the main genre. Language use in trickster stories is determined by these spontaneously uttered speech genres, which are meant to reflect the ad-hoc produced language of the discourse participants in the story. Trickster stories are almost identical to ghost stories in their distinctions as non-performative genres with directive speech, narrated in informal story-telling sessions. The particularly implicit nature of trickster stories is described in the sub-section on function below, which includes information regarding modal connectives. This discussion illustrates an activation of the audience with allusions to shared cultural values. It is representative also for other forms with integrated cultural knowledge used in community -involved story telling by its use of implicit information.

Function The genres with a temporally-connective presentation of events tend to have human protagonists except for trickster stories and animal stories. Trickster stories concern Sdh ‘mole cricket’, who indeed is an insect that is nevertheless described anthropomorphically as having wives and relatives. Only once in the researched corpus is the trickster described as an insect. This occurs at the explicit moral end that relates the insect’s observed habit of creeping underground in social shame when discovered by humans.

over 6,000 well-organised soldiers and their auxiliaries no longer accepted the ruthless commands of Captain Gustave Leroi, who had forced them to march in 150 days to Sudan without rest and with very little food. At the slightest provocation soldiers had been punished with a statutory 100 lashes. More than two thousand from this group, including spouses and children, gave themselves up in August 1900 to German East African authorities, on the other side of Lake Tanganyika (cf. Nzongola-Ntalaja 2002:45,6). The others either perished in the forest or integrated with the population. This implies that the forest was no safe place after 1897, when it housed thousands of traumatised, hungry and foreign ex-soldiers.

328 The theme of trickster stories concerns individual freedom and its consequences to the community. This freedom is represented in various ways in different texts, for instance, with food collecting trips in search of caterpillars or honey, which confront Budu men with the dilemma to choose between instantaneous consumption and bringing the food home. The modal connective forms an allusion to such tensions, without elaborately explaining these social ‘issues,’ which are well-known to the village communities. To give an idea of the social issues that use of this genre marker may allude to, various cultural issues with ambivalences154 are discussed in more detail here. In Budu society the trickster represents a two-sided character. Similar to that which Vorblichler (1979) describes for the Lese, he is typically portrayed as a charming drum player that at the same time suffers a skin-rash. This double appearance is essential for trickster stories. The audience is presented with the perspective of Sodu as non-conformist who breaks social rules and with the perspective of the deceived antagonists who suffer from his antisocial behaviour. This doubly layered reality is dramatically hidden from the antagonist, while indicated to the audience by the modal connective ambgb ‘while in fact’. Similar to the idiomatic expressions in animal stories, this modal connective integrates cultural information, making it rich in symbolic value and consequently very apt for community-involved implicit information. To fully appreciate the extent of integrated cultural information, the following extensive explanations of various ambivalences indicated by this genre marker of trickster stories are discussed. First, social dilemmas faced as a result of the presence of food during dry season are mentioned. The ‘moon-bred’ mushrooms and young termites that fly out at the first moon155 provide instantaneous supplements to the diet during this cloudless season without harvest of food crops. Many trickster stories treat the theme of greediness during food collecting activities. One cultural tension that is present during the dry season concerns the balance between food deficiency and the abundant supplies of ‘moon-bred food’. This ambivalence is alluded to by genre marker ambgb ‘while in fact’ of trickster stories, integrating high amounts of cultural information in this genre. Second, some ambivalence is represented by fertility and adultery or promiscuity. The abstract noun bsdh is a class 14 noun with the root sdh. The class 14 prefix b- is used to make concrete objects, such as ‘mole crickets’ in this case, into abstract nouns in Budu. This noun signifies

154Ambivalency cross-culturally is essential for various trickster genres. Brian Street suggests in his contribution to the Liber Amicorum of Ethnologist Sir Edward Evans-Pritchard that trickster stories in both American Indian cultures and in Zande culture function as an outlet; voicing social protest (p. 91) while the genre at the same time, by acting at the boundaries of order, gives a definition of social order (p.101), the underlying value expressed in trickster stories being that ‘creativity and chaos’ are intertwined (1972). Like Zande stories, Budu trickster stories concern an insect hero. In this respect they are similar to stories about the spider Asanti in the West African and Afro-American (Caribbean) cultures. In Ndaka cultures the mole-cricket Sódu in fact is an anti-hero that, as a charming winner, can afford to neglect social rules, while he is nevertheless not less ridiculed for his misfortune. Vorbichler’s study (1979) of Lese and Efe literature mentions anti-heroes in Pygmy orature, drawing attention (p.13) to similarities between the Ndaka trickster and a character called Bàlì by Bira, Lese and Efe groups, who are neighbouring the Budu. The Lese trickster is referred to with the circumscription Likuadebo ‘is he a circumcised boy?’ reflecting his ambivalent role in society: can trickster be taken seriously, as member of the adult community, or is he still a child? The hero Bàlì represents a trickster with the Mangbetu, where at the same time the Creator Adzapana is called by this name. Reverence for trickster characters that are associated with the moon led priest-scholar Schebesta to assume that several cultures in Ituri include a cult of a deity ‘Moon’ (1931). His hypothesis was falsified convincingly by Tereshima (2001) who argues that Schebesta mistook the respect that forest inhabitants express towards nature as monotheistic religion. Tereshima’s falsification is supported by the impossibility of referring to the creator with the name Sódu. In Budu society the creator is called Asobei as also in Mbo culture. 155Vorbichler (1979:6) claims that tricksters with their two-sided nature in Efe and Lese culture can be associated with the moon in its various appearances. Van Dijk (1988) also mentions a certain association between the Zande trickster and the moon, whose ‘skin comes off in scratching.’ Little pieces of red iron that are frequently found in the laterite soil are, for instance, interpreted as the skin of the moon that comes off. The withering moon is referred to by Zande as ‘being sick and loosing little pieces of skin.’ Since laterite soil is very fertile, its sickness seems to be related to the fertile soil. Many trickster stories concern ‘fertility,’ while in many cultures of Ituri tricksters are described as somebody with a skin rash.

329 adultery. At the same time Sodu’s name is associated with moonlit dances with exciting rhythms, with swarming termites, mushrooms that pop up out of tree logs, laterite soil, and also the protection of the crops during moonlit nights. 156 Fertility is celebrated in its broadest sense during the joyful meetings of young people who dance during moonlit nights. Dancing events, celebrated under the full moon, occur throughout the Ituri Forest.157 In this chapters’ excerpt from a trickster story, a dancing party takes place at night, implying that the trickster and his wives walk there by moonlight and not during the dark, moonless nights that prohibit travelling through the forest.158 To the Budu moonlit nights represent mobility, visits to other compounds, the joy of leisure time that can be spent outside the house and the youth gatherings that are enabled.159 Therefore each new moon is celebrated by the Budu. As soon as the moon ‘reappears,’ ululating can be heard in every household. Fourteen days later, at full moon, young inhabitants of the entire neighbourhood gather together to dance and sing. Undesired effects of the dances are the spread of sexually transmitted diseases and the manifestation of socially disruptive promiscuity. After the first violent occupation of Congo by soldiers of various nationalities, the fertility rate among the Budu was notoriously low in the early 1900’s (Dubois 1923) as a result of veneral diseases.160 The socially disruptive and physically destructive aspects of adultery give rise to cultural tensions, although children born from adulterous relations are welcomed in Budu society as a gift of the Creator. Furthermore, unlike hunter-gatherers, such as the Efe, the Budu depend entirely on the moon for their agricultural calendar. This agricultural dependency on the moon is reflected in trickster stories, where a personification of the ‘trickery’ of the moon is both admired and derided. This ambivalence is integrated in the genre marker of trickster stories, explaining its distinctively implicit communication. The social tension represented by moonlit dances relates, in particular, to the dilemma between fertility and

156The relation between moonlight dances and the tree logs of the Arumbi tree is mentioned for the Mbo culture by Towles (1993b: 72). In Budu the mole cricket is assumed to live underneath tree logs, while this insect also represents the trickster character. Mushrooms iduu seem to grow on these logs during moonlight nights. “In its full fertile state the logs are at their most potent, likened to the womb, and the wood of the drum being made of this tree expresses this idea even though a male always plays the drum in the Abala love and dance celebrations.” This explains why the tree is used to cut drums. Also, the name sodo in both Lese and Efe culture is used for a herbal medicine that chases termites out of their hiding places so they can be eaten (Terashima e.a.1988). This technique is applied during the first rain of the full moon after the dry season, when the air is filled with joyful noises of children who anticipate eating their first protein rich meal in ten weeks, as I personally remember it. 157 Towles (1993) describes the Mbo moonlit dances as follows: “…on moonlight nights, people often stay up all night dancing the sexual abala.” “…during the full moon sexually explicit songs of the male and female genitalia are sung by both young men and women” p.80. “Also on these nights, women often dance their ambembe dance for the fertility of the crops. The full moon coincides with the menstrual cycle of women, and at this point women are thought to be extremely fertile and receptive to men. [..] the light of the moon makes the darkness of night a propitious and apt time of performance”. p.120 and on page 55: “The ambembe (from kubemba, meaning to inquire into a person’s affairs secretly or slyly without the person knowing; wheedle, cajole, fawn on, coax, solicit, seduce and quieten, as one does a child) is publicly directed to the protection of life, both human and natural, specifically groups of crops.” And p. 120: “the women’s rite of ambembe sings explicitly of virility and fertility.” The Mbo are the southern neighbours of the Budu and a related group. 158 Vorbichler presents one story that is very similar to the Budu story in excerpt 7.1.3.3. Efe trickster Bali is describes as a charming drummer, who is not recognised by his Bantu wife. She falls in love with her own husband thinking she is involved in flirtation. When she comes home to her skin-scratching husband Bali, she tells him: “O how wonderful has the drummer, your namesake, played.” The following time when she goes to a party, Bali’s dancing wife declares to the drummer: “O, Bali, I don’t want to return home to my husband with his skin-disease; can’t you marry me?” (Vorblichler 1979:7). 159Another aspect of moonlit nights is merely agricultural. In contrast to dark nights that hide animals when they come out of the forest to destroy crops, the moonlight exposes unwanted intruders on the fields. 160While most women each had at least ten births in a life-time, the average woman only had two living children during the reporting of Red Cross doctor Dubois about the entire Budu area (Dubois 1932:6). In traditional culture adultery, once discovered, used to be severely punished upon judgement by the lineage leader. Mutilation of the genitals was one of the punishments for adulterous women (Manzimba 1991).

330 results of sexually transmitted diseases, with possible infertility as one of its effects, next to, for instance, skin rashes. The complex dilemma between fertility and infertility is alluded to by the genre marker of trickster stories, illustrating the integration of high amounts of cultural information. Third, some ambivalence is represented by the joyful energy of a healthy person. This energy can be used either to work or to spend the night dancing. The lack of agricultural cooperation is a recurring theme in trickster stories. One of the stories portrays the trickster while he continues to dance on a tree log instead of clearing a field. Logs of wood usually represent places where mole crickets dwell.161 This observation is exploited in one particular trickster story about the trickster and his wife, where he claims to be clearing a huge field. In actual fact the mole cricket keeps stumbling over a tree trunk each day and spends entire days dancing on the tree trunk. He never even starts clearing his field. This story portrays Sódu as a lazy agriculturalist and an irresponsible husband. The attractions of dance are described elaborately in story songs with adverbial phrases. The Budu noun gyagyá can refer to ‘joy’ and also to ‘the desire to work,’ representing an ambivalency, this bouncing energy can contribute to the community if it is used for clearing fields or doing other labour-intensive jobs or it may seek an outlet in dancing and singing. The risk of losing energy that is needed for subsistence farming is a real threat for the community, since all Budu are involved in agricultural activities at least part-time.162 Again the use of the modal connective ambgb provides the convention to communicate this cultural ambivalency. No circumlocutive explanations or lengthy evaluations are needed as the conventional use of the connective conveys its own message. This ambivalency is present in the genre marker ambgb ‘while in fact’ of trickster stories, integrating high amounts of cultural information in this genre. It illustrates one of the distinctions of implicit information in trickster stories.

4. Animal stories migenú banama Distinguished as: temporally-connective presentation of events; implicit information; non-directive communication; involves the community; spontaneous production; performative language use.

Form The connective genre of animal stories is distinguished for its use in community life (involvement) and in performative language use. As bed-time stories the genre is more distinguished for involvement than for its temporally-connective presentation of events. Attempts to make animal stories comprehensible for children result in considerable redundancy. These ‘easy’ stories imprint young persons with social values attached to personhood in the wider society of mulitple lineages. Their concise format with simple cohesive devices to indicate chronological ordering facilitates memorisation, for example with parallel constructions of repeated reported speech. The minimal use of other connective distinctions in comparison to other story genres can be explained by the absence of specific indications of temporal sequences. Animal stories with their 26% reported speech exhibit more strict repetitions of quotes than other story genres, while the percentage represents no more quotes than are used in other narrative genres. Parallelisms of quotes rather than indications of time are used to structure the text exploiting acoustic devices to express the development of the story. Parallel constructions are used to express contrasts of dramatic importance. As in other stories they consist of attempts to involve the audience by laughter, puns and word games, including acoustic allusions, and by story songs. The malicious pleasure expressed in most expressions of emphasis, unites members of the audience when deceit is discovered or in anticipation of this moment, thereby representing audience involvement.

161The relation between the mole cricket and tree logs represents several associations, as mentioned in reference to the Mbo culture in note 139 Towles (1993b: 72). 162Even today all members of the rural society except gold miners, traders, diviners and smiths are at least part- time occupied with their agricultural production.

331 Particular distinctions of the performative nature of animal stories are certain idiomatic expressions that also occur in other performative genres.163 They enable community members to join in due to the use of easily recognised constructions that represent shared values. Idiomatic expressions activate audience participation as well.

Function Moral teaching about lifelong friendships and their value is presented in migenú nama animal stories. The protagonists of such stories are described anthropomorphically as persons from different lineages who were circumcised together. Apart from the setting, only a few animal stories explicitly refer to the circumcision itself. In the setting of the story the mutual love between blood brothers is invariably mentioned and frequently an agreement between the two animals is described, while a contrast may be developed in recurring agreements. Fatal consequences of betraying the cherished bonds of lasting friendships form the most important theme of animal stories. A climax is reached when one of the two animals reproaches the other for betraying the blood brotherhood. An embedded reproach is a recurring speech genre expressing indignation while declaring animosity between former friends, which can be life-threatening for the traitor. In some cases moral ends of stories warn the audience to never betray lifelong friends. The indirect lesson of all animal stories is that pacts with members of other lineages should be cherished and that one should never let individual interests prevail over obligations towards friends. As discourse participants, animals represent different clans. As also in particular food avoidances, which are respected by each Budu lineage, ancestors of the clans are represented by a particular animal. In animal stories blood-brotherhood associates different animals, while in fact the importance of inter-clan loyalties is underlined. 164The use of animal stories to urge young Budu to be good circumcision partners is comparable to the use of circumcision songs to the novices, imprinting them with social obligations. Performative distinctions of animal stories follow from this similarity.

5. Life stories yáka y’ ubéí Distinguished as: temporally-connective presentation of events; explicit information; one of the clearest examples of non-directive communication; without community involvement; prepared production; performative language use.

Form Life stories are chronologically structured to describe personal experiences, being the only connective genre used in groups that merely presents individual reflections. This rather unique group-related language use without attempts to persuade the addressees or to involve the community is relatively new in Budu. As with other recently developed genres life stories contain more distinctions than other genres that represent the negative end of the continuum of directive communication. Communication with relative strangers is reflected in the explicit information in this genre.165 Attempts to establish relationships with the addressee(s) consist of possible points of recognition with references to persons, places and particular years. The repetition of first person forms is characteristic for life stories that invariably relay personal experiences. Their 14% reported speech fragments consist of self-quotations, where the speaker emphasizes a certain statement using participle constructions. They contribute to the performative

163Idiomatic expressions such as kío gn ‘the cutting of circumcision’ gn yawo ‘the blood brotherhood dies;’ and ptanaka + ayóo ‘betraying a circumcision partner’ are used. See appendix 5E. 164The symbolic value of animals as representative of the clan is important in the culture of several forest-Bantu people and described, for instance, in Mwene-Batende (1982). 165 Redeker established that narrative discourse tends to be explicit when addressed to strangers (1987:103-05).

332 distinction of the genre. Life stories, although they represent new genres in Budu society, are not distinguished with many performative variables as they are probably not considered as the most formal of the genres that are used in an institutional context. Therefore their function in establishing relationships is not distinguished by particularly performative language use.

Function Life histories is a subgenre of the umbrella category of masa ‘information exchange,’ which is used for establishing acquaintances with inhabitants of other villages. From 1996 on, the genre started to be used in print by some individuals. Personal life stories are regularly exchanged when strangers from different villages visit the traditional village house for men (bhasa). Also when a community member has visited a new place, for instance the Capital, experiences are exchanged in the meeting place. Other situations that trigger the use of this genre are crises or exceptional chances in hunting or fishing. Most life stories concern biographical facts such as birth and marriage and none of them is primarily religious in content. During the 1940s the development of national roads combined with the rise of inter-ethnic meetings for (church) business intensified contacts between various Budu speakers who were thus far unacquainted with each other. In church gatherings, biographical information was orally exchanged to facilitate acquaintances between inhabitants of various villages. A third development related to the increased mobility of the Budu is referred to in the Protestant church in the Wamba district as the reveille ‘revival’. In 1953 and ’54 many new members were added to the church, resulting in the need for large meetings with villagers coming from a wide area. From this period, yearly meetings with thousands of visitors started to be organised.166 Villagers from different chiefdoms felt the need to become acquainted with each other. Pastors, who by church policy were ordained outside their native region, felt the need to meet each other.167 This resulted in informal evening gatherings, where life experiences were exchanged, starting with biographic material sa y ubéí ngwaw wasm ‘news concerning my life,’ with an incidental nekpabi ‘Christian testimony’ and interesting anecdotes simply referred to as masa ’informations’.

6. ‘Cultural documentation’ Masa n kwananakíso: angbíngá y bakúku Distinguished as: temporally-connective presentation of events; explicit information; non-directive communication; without community involvement; prepared production; non-performative language use.

166For example an estimated crowd of around 17,000 gathered for Christmas in 1999 when 144 where baptised in Ibambi. Upon several occasions I heard various Budu speakers emphasize the role of church affiliations in the increased mobility that is observed in the twentieth century. Since church members could count on the hospitality of church members in other chiefdoms (even among other ethnic groups), “the fear to be attacked on the road was replaced by the desire to travel,” as some Budu speakers expressed it. Van Der Poort (1973:139- 156) mentions 1925 as the first year in which a mass meeting was organised in Ibambi by the mission of the Heart of Africa, since it had its headquarters in that town. The mission was reluctant to take responsibility for the baptism of new converts and started to organise mass meetings to satisfy those who wanted to know more about the church. In 1932 a meeting with close to 10,000 persons was organised in Ibambi. From 1925 on about 80% of the church-attending masses were not members of the denomination nor enrolled in activities to become one. The obligatory literacy classes were seen as major problem in Isiro (where van der Poort writes this comment). 167Van Der Poort 1973 attributes the importance of Christmas and the Annual church Conference partly to the joyful reunion of all church workers. From 1933 on the Bible School in Ibambi produced thousands of active church workers (over 6,000 in 1968) who all work in the places where they are ordained.

333 Function Cultural documentation is a major subgenre of masa ‘information’. Of all public genres probably ‘news’ is the most prominent. This genre is directly related to the seat of its use, the community house. News dissipation in this meeting place attracts villagers, since it keeps them well informed about social obligations, recently made agricultural agreements or the agenda for manual ‘community labour’ salongo as ordered by the ‘clan leader’ ngámá. The Budu are renowned for the efficient organisation of their shared labour. Bambanota (1994) even ascribes the successful contribution of the Budu to the region’s coffee production between 1920 and 1989 to its efficiency. This system includes the division of agricultural work between three to ten partners belonging to two befriended families while the community leaders divide chores that are to the benefit of all villagers, such as road maintenance.168 In contrast to most information-genres, cultural documentation is a reflective subgenre with individual expositions on cultural matters that are unrelated to the day-to-day organisation of village life. The genre includes individually expressed speeches about the values of a lineage. Cultural documentation frequently contains thought-provoking statements which may be called tp ‘attractive’ or in Swahili kitamu, since they are of interest to discuss. More recently, from 2001 onwards, the genre started to be used in writing to describe aspects of Budu history and culture for the younger generation of children who are no longer automatically around the house during their schooldays. Cultural documentation includes genealogies with information about the clan history. When younger relatives in a clan reach the age of marriage, they can visit elder members of the clan to obtain information about their itindíndi ‘roots’ in a personal interview. This sub-genre with personal interviews should inform unmarried men about clan members to be avoided as marriage candidates. This sub-genre arises during the occasion and exhibits distinctions of spontaneous production. Genealogies usually are long texts that are relevant to the individual who has asked for this information. Similar to other texts that arise in culturally recurring situations, the language use facilitates memorising.

Form Cultural documentation is the most chronologically structured of all genres distinguished for temporally- connective presentation of events. Next to life stories it represents one of the few story genres with non- fiction, which are also distinguished by well-prepared language use. In cultural documentation some procedures are described elaborately as cultural particularities of the past. The various steps in those cultural procedures, for example steps involved in the production of trousers from ficus bark, are presented chronologically. This genre, that includes genealogies and etymological explanations, is the most circumlocutive connective genre, partly because genealogies represent the most circumlocutive embedded speech-genre in the mini-corpus. The main genre furthermore consistently has subordinated sentences with infinite verb forms.

7. Riddles nndaka yáka Distinguished as: temporally-connective presentation of events; explicit information; directive communication; without community involvement; redundant language, no performative use of language.

Function Most riddles are formulated in reaction to an invitation. The genre name literally means ‘to shoot a thing’ (for example an arrow), while the verb ‘sting’ nndá refers to the challenge that puns represent. Riddles can consist of one-liner questions or of short stories that children exchange in face-to- face interaction while waiting for the evening meal. The broad spectrum of riddles reflects their use by children of different age groups at night, while they entertain each other. Later in the evening animal

168Van Der Poort (1973:200) mentions one day a week of obligatory work for all male citizens of Isiro (to cut palm-nuts for oil tax obligations) and one other day for road maintenance in 1971.

334 stories and other stories are told. The division between elaborate riddles and some short pact stories or animal stories is not very clear-cut since riddles represent a stepping stone to the skill of story telling with a format that allows practice with other story genres. Riddles are distinguished as instantaneous production. The stories include educative shorts puns and anecdotes, representing structured texts about observed facts in nature that give rise to questions, such as why a chicken drinks water with its eyes skyward. Story-riddles may also include folk etymology. These short stories are told in the context of the family meal in the evening.

Form Riddles, due to their challenging nature invariably express appeals to the addressee to provide an answer. They thereby also reflect the speaker’s intention to obtain an immediate reaction. Since they are usually produced on the spot by younger Budu speakers, riddles reflect spontaneous production. Redundancy also reflects their didactic nature, as in other genres, such as medical information and animal stories, used for education. Similar to these genres riddles are distinguished as explicit information. The formulaic opening suggests a strict format. Nevertheless, the genre represents a scale of possibilities, varying from puns and little word games to explanations about observed facts in nature.

8. Parables & other Pulpit Speech isesenio; mapan Distinguished as: no temporally-connective presentation of events; no explicit information; directive communication; indiscriminate for community involvement; well-prepared production; performative language use.

Form Parables & other pulpit speech is a category that does not represent one communicative dimension in particular apart from its performative setting. Idiomatic expressions are frequently used in blessings or as closures to parable-stories. As the name suggests the genre represents language use from connective parable stories and from non-connective subgenres ‘blessings,’ ‘prayers’ and other speech genres used from the pulpit, such as elaborate pastoral instructions. Prayers and blessings with their sequences of loose statements depend entirely on the context for their cohesion. Texts partly derive their structure from non-verbal cues provided by their institutionalised church setting. The sub-genre of prayers reflects the requested reaction of being accepted by the Most High, expressed by the same mitigation markers that express insistence on an immediate reaction in other directive genres.

Function Stories with human protagonists are told to convey moral lessons, sometimes with an explicit allegoric interpretation at the end. Similar to the moral end to some animal stories they contain explicit phrases such as s yng ya ban ‘its meaning is as follows,’ to mark closure of the text. In the remainder of these texts, parables are used to formulate in an indirect manner what comments the speaker wants to give on recent developments, putting them in the perspective of the ancestor’s wisdom. Similar to drama parables may represent a new perspective that is illustrated with familiar or newly invented stories. Similar to church songs and life stories, parables are used in church. They explain the church’s teaching in an allegorical sense, with minimal explanations. Parables were recently developed as sermons. The use of this particular genre as a Budu sermon requires some background information.

335 Whereas the village meeting place bhasa used to be the site of knowledge and the place where decisions were taken, its preponderance shifted gradually towards the church community during the second half of the twentieth century, as Budu churches, founded from the start of the former century169 started to gain influence. In the section on community involvement, a text about the community house bhasa was discussed. In line 20 it mentions that villagers have ceased to listen to the mapan ‘advice’ of the elders. The word mapan ‘advice’ summarises a number of genres listed in that text. The word mapan today includes sermons, exhortations, moral advice and other church genres.170 Such genres replace the genres that community members ‘stopped listening’ to, when the society started being a society with an urban orientation. Church genres apparently represent a performative authority, comparable to the language used in circumcision songs and in animal stories. This therefore requires some explanation. The following remarks are meant to clarify the role of the church community in Budu society and to place this broad genre that includes parables, into its historical context. The performative nature of pulpit speech can be explained from the position the church started to fulfil in Budu society, as it started to be involved in health care, education and other social matters. The use of first person plural forms including the addressees in pulpit speech is characteristic of the harmonising, conflict resolving function of the performative genre. While Budu society changes from being an egalitarian society to one with social stratification, paid specialists such as are represented by the pastors, emphasize group interests. With new performative genres that resemble existing performative genres, they contribute to the maintenance of social continuity. Against the background of these developments, the role of newer genres for the dissemination of knowledge (medical information; literacy lessons) and wisdom (life stories, parables) can be understood: together these genres are part of the new mapan ‘advice’ that apparently both attracts and unites the village community. Although this remark also pertains to life stories, medical information and its subgenre of literacy lessons it will not be repeated in the sections for those genres.

9. Proverbs nmbmbánaka Distinguished as: not the least concern for temporally-connective presentation of events; explicit information; non-directive communication; without community involvement; prepared production; non- performative language use.

Function Proverbs are one of the genres that indirectly present cultural norms and values of society, voiced as an individual perspective on an issue under discussion. Together with riddles, parables, pact stories and drama, proverbs represent wisdom and therefore these genres were called wisdom genres in chapter 4. Proverbs used to be expressed during palavers as a contribution to the ongoing group discussion. They are typically expressed by experienced members of the community to remind others of the application of some of its values. At the same time proverbs indirectly express, by their timing, an evaluation concerning the ongoing group discussion. In contrast to riddles, which can be used by anybody who speaks the language for entertainment, the use of proverbs requires careful preparation, as they are an extremely concise genre with a high average of new words per clause. The impact of proverbs can only be understood by addressees aware of their cultural application. The skill of using proverbs at the right occasion and with the proper implication is highly valued among Budu speakers.

169This were the 1911-founded Bafwasende Catholic Mission and the 1921-founded Ibambi Protestant Mission. 170The so-called wamama wa habari njema ‘women evangelists’ for instance visit homes of non-Christian widows weekly and ‘counsel’ them with mapan ‘advice’ while they bring material help in the form of soap and food. The diagnosis and prescriptions of medical workers are also referred to as mapan ‘advice.’ These two instances of mapan ‘advice’ represent new genres that have developed as advice.

336 As in other languages, proverbs present well-known truths, often introduced with a reference to the ancestors. It “attributes the proverb to the sage-the elders, the ancestors, an important person or a person respected by both the speaker and the addressee. The speaker thus depersonalises the proverb, shows his/her humility, and makes it attributable to an acknowledged and respectable linguistically sophisticated source.” (Yankay (1989) in Obeng (2003:94)). The use of proverbs represents the pursuit of a long-term impact on the audience. As with most story genres, proverbs are used for reflection on cultural values rather than for the expression of directive statements.

Form Proverbs by nature represent isolated utterances with only a metaphorical reference to the discourse. Although the metaphorical meaning of proverbs can only understood by implication, they include extremely explicit qualifications with adverbs and adjectives, which are used in individual, short and witty remarks with proverbs evaluating social cases under discussion. Each proverb contains explicit descriptions, which nevertheless specify no new information. Explicit specifications in proverbs seem to merely facilitate recognition of metaphorical references. Despite their shortness proverbs specify a considerable amount of detailed information. By their concise format with integrated information proverbs are distinguished as carefully prepared language use. Proverbs are usually opened by a reference to the ancestors, or a so-called source formulae.171This allusion to the experience of the ancestors guarantees the reliability of the quoted wisdom. It co-occurs with the well-prepared evaluator's language that tends to be used by community members who thereby identify themselves as experienced members of the community. The use of a particular proverb may, in certain situations, provide a new angle on an ongoing discussion because of its metaphorical implication. This nevertheless is seldom related to the use of language itself, for comments are implied.172 Similar to drama, proverbs represent the personal point of view of individual community members without appeals to the audience to get involved, since they are not directive either.

10. Medical Information yáka akhimbíso kws Distinguished as: no concern for temporally-connective presentation of events; explicit information; non- directive language use; without community involvement; spontaneous production; non-performative language use.

Function Most medical information in the researched corpus was produced by a group of nurses working under the leadership of the owner of a commercial private clinic founded in the 1990s. Their primary concern was to inform young mothers and older children about primary health care and nutrition. In many places in the Congo health care has never been provided by the government (Lyons 1992). The Wamba district, where most Budu live, is no exception, while only during the 1920s was a thorough organisation of health care set up by the international Red Cross. The Red Cross, however, had to neglect most of its work in the late 1920s after financial problems arose in the aftermath of the First World War (Dubois 1932:83).

171The source formula: (Jn p),babisugo ga (‘In former days,) they used to say that:’ has a habitual third person plural of sugo ‘say’ that is eventually preceded by a temporal adverbial in reference to a remote past. 172Each language group creates new proverbs in reference to novelties, for example the Ekonda proverb Bambol’a weeli mbo nko mbaka ‘One can eat in the moonlight, but copal provides a better light.’(Imbuli 2001:166); however, these only represent a negligible quantity of the total collection of proverbs in the language group. Such proverbs, by their language use, contain specifications of new information (the use of copal in this case).

337 Without government help, churches in the area became occupied with health care and social security. Church organisations are still socially engaged in most educational and medical services in the Wamba district with the exception of a few private schools and clinics for the rich. This had a considerable impact on the whole society (see under parables & other pulpit speech) Included in the genre are some literacy lessons that represent the use of Budu in simple texts for beginner readers with literacy skills in other languages. In 1996 a small-scale literacy campaign was launched on both sides of the Nepoko River to start literacy classes in both Budu dialects. One lesson was recorded and most lessons are printed in the primer. Both were included in the tagging of the corpus. Together they represent less than 5% of the texts labelled as medical information.

Form Medical information is thematically structured and lacks, as a non-connective genre, any chronological structuring. Since it includes tables with the nutritious value of food and an overview of the function of vitamins it is distinguished by its loosely structured texts while being one of the most explicitly formulated genres. As a non-directive genre, medical information pursues long-term purposes such as establishing primary health care and the transmission of knowledge concerning hygiene and nutritional values. This genre is distinguished for its informal and ‘easy’ use of language exhibiting considerable redundancy. Medical information is purposely formulated in the daily speech of young uneducated mothers and children, because the writers were aware of the language use of their audience. The genres that represent Budu training are medical information and the literacy lessons that are included in that main category. They are directly related to French-medium training, such as is provided in institutional settings as in the secondary schools and hospitals in Nebobongo, Pawa, Wamba and Ibambi. Buduphone training is not distinguished as performative language use. Transmission of knowledge is not institutionalised in Budu culture, at least not in the form of distinctively performative language use. This can be explained from the non-institutional teaching style through interpersonal interaction with demonstration of skills and emphasis on observed facts (see the section of explicit information containing the excerpt about palm-tree climbing). In a Budu-style transmission of knowledge, any unknown information needs to be demonstrated with observable facts when it is presented to the pupil (in the informal apprenticeship that characterises Budu teaching). This is expressed with explicit descriptions and without idiomatic expressions, or other performative distinctions of an institutionalised setting.

11. Church Songs mamb w kanisa Distinguished as: no concern for temporally-connective presentation of events; explicit information; directive communication; community involvement; minimum of redundancy; performative language use.

Form Church songs represent the best-prepared language use in the researched corpus since this language recurs in highly conventionalised meetings and since it is reflected in a church song book. In comparison to other song genres, church songs exhibit no arbitrary use of chronological structure. Temporally-connective features are never significantly used in party songs, individual songs and circumcision songs. Church songs with their highly predictable protocol exhibit even fewer chances that temporally-connective distinctions are used. Music and liturgical protocol provide structure to these songs and are important extra-linguistic aspects of the context of production that is reflected in the genre. Church songs are distinguished overtly as directive communication. The genre represents verbal attempts to accomplish changes. This is most clear in the admonitions to invoke the help of the circumcision partner Jesus. Church songs with their utterances between church members also reflect

338 the involvement of all persons present in celebrations. Consequently their language use resembles declarations to siblings in oaths & guarantees and circumcision songs, which are also exchanged during celebrations with members of the same community. The exchange of choruses with idiomatic expressions in church songs invites the audience to join in singing easily recognised constructions. Similar to animal stories and circumcision songs, the genre also involves community members by its use of idiomatic expressions that represent shared values.

Function Outsiders are invited to join the outdoor celebrations in which church songs occur. These celebrations represent some highly conventionalised community meetings by their liturgical structure and by the use of music. During these community meetings the genre represents attempts to accomplish changes with involved members of the community. The nature of performative language in Budu suggests that these changes concern the social dignity of persons in transition from, for instance, sickness to either death or healing, or for instance, fear of spirits of the forest to the assurance that they can rely on the best imaginable blood brother.

12. Party Songs mamb w támba Distinguished as: no concern for temporally-connective presentation of events; implicit information; directive communication; involves the community; indiscriminate for neither production nor performative language use.

Function Party songs include drinking songs, dance songs and wedding songs. It requires a separate study to account for all the wedding variations in Budu society, although all marriages are patrilocal. 173 At most marriages an mb wa tamba or ‘dancing song’ is sung during the celebrations before and after the bride is introduced to the village community of her husband’s family, as was mentioned in relation to the excerpt from the trickster story. At church weddings the closest relatives practice a special dance for the church entrance of groom and bride. Its rehearsal during the night before the wedding provides an occasion to make jokes about the qualities of the áyaa ‘sibling’ who is going to be married. This type of song named ‘ibhí-sokú’ refers to the sokuo ‘revealing’ of the bride price or ibhika ‘gift’ which takes place on the same night. It is rehearsed when delegates of both families meet during the night before the wedding, while a special dance step is designed for the occasion by the younger relatives.

Form Although all genres are distinguished for at least five parameters, party songs seem non-distinguished for production or setting, not considering the genre markers. Temporally-connective features may be arbitrarily used in party songs, as in individual songs and in circumcision songs. Since the addressees are present during the production of the song, direct appeals play a major role. The directive features indicate the important role of the shared context of production. Several forms in party songs express the immediate need to either ‘to stop drinking’ or to ‘drink’. Party songs are characterised by their community involvement with an implicit communication of knowledge that is shared by members of the same village community and culture. Party songs resemble church songs. Nevertheless church songs are more overtly marked for community involvement as a new genre. A more important difference is that party songs are not distinguished for production or setting, whereas these dimensions are the most important in church

173Manzimba (1993) mentions twelve different types of weddings, for instance the mambilí marriage with sister exchange, where women are exchanged between two lineages, without there being a further price to be paid.

339 songs. Despite the recurring nature of their setting in dancing parties and at official weddings, party songs are adapted to the situation and represent a free format that is not distinguished as performative language use or as well-prepared production. This is partly due to the wide variety of subgenres. Further research into each subgenre may reveal more particular distinctions.

13. Individual Songs mamb (w dhídhíma; ágelé; (ba) nèndíké) Distinguished as: no concern for temporally-connective presentation of events; implicit information; directive communication; involves the community; minimum of redundancy; performative language use.

Function Mourning songs represent an old Budu institution marked for their formal setting. As other performative genres, mourning songs exhibit highly distinctive expressions that mark liminal phases in the lives of the mourning person who speaks or sings and the deceased person who is addressed. Lullabies are also labelled as individual songs. This subgenre represents attempts to involve everybody in the audience. Others present on the same compound next to the crying baby are entertained by ‘community-involved’ language use, the language use being particularly humorous in the sub-genre of nèndíké.

Form Lullabies are distinctive for their expressed involvement. Although the sub-genre seems to represent free expressions in its joking, their format represents often repeated baby songs that parents teach to their children. The transmission of shared knowledge explains the obscure, archaic information that distinguishes the genre as implicit communication, including the many cultural references. Individual songs are highly directive with their significant use of imperatives and vocatives. Whereas imperatives are only used for main instructions in work orders, the repeated use of imperatives is characteristic for the emphatic communication in individual songs. Although circumcision songs seem more distinguished as an institutional genre, individual songs exhibit similar distinctions due to their emphatic use of highly repetitious language rather than their institutional settings. Individual songs exhibit the significant use of participle constructions to emphasize the accomplishment of actions such as the calming of a baby or the departure of a deceased relative. Except for this single performative feature and except for their well-prepared production, individual songs resemble non-performative party songs.

14. Circumcision Songs mamb w gn Distinguished as: no concern for temporally-connective presentation of events; implicit information; directive communication; involves the community; prepared production; and performative language use.

Function Circumcision songs are exchanged between male members of the same community who take part in the same circumcision ceremony. The ceremony and resulting social obligations bind the blood brothers for a life long friendship that can only be disrupted by betrayal. The importance of this bond between blood brothers influences the language of three out of sixteen main genres and in one embedded genre, and is therefore developed in this section. Several performative genres in Budu prepare children for lifelong friendships with members of other lineages. Circumcision songs and animal stories implicitly tell children to commit themselves to their best friend, even if clan interests interfere.174 The act of circumcision represents an important

174Friendships between different lineages are important for the maintenance of peace in Ituri. The Budu large inter-lineage networks are renowned (Vansina 1990:174).

340 change in individual lives, where groups of lineage members begin to share interests with members from other clans. The related song and story genres exhibit distinguished language use. Resemblances between these genres can be explained from their similar contributions to community involvement and to the establishing of life-long friendships.

Form Circumcision songs are primarily distinguished for their performative setting and for the involvement of the group of novices who partner in this liminal phase. This directive genre is used to express the immediate need to endure pain. Use of the songs is instrumental in the enduring of pain and therefore the lexical phrase nkya mad ‘behave yourselves well’ is repeated as a chorus in most circumcision songs. The novices exchange obscure wordings, such as: lúgó? hóó! and: ápù? ch! 175 Circumcision songs by convention have a strict format. They represent a careful production, related to the recurring circumcision ceremonies in Budu culture and thereby are engrained in the memory. The social bonds between fellow believers bayóo are compared with bonds between members of co-allied lineages, where mutual obligations provide a protection that contributes to group harmony. Consequently there are resemblances between language use in church songs and their statements uttered between church members, with declarations to siblings (oaths & guarantees) and with circumcision songs that are exchanged between members of the same community. Similarities in function explain the resemblances between these genres.

15. Drama pièces de theatre Distinguished as: no concern for temporally-connective presentation of events, implicit information; directive communication; without community involvement; prepared production; non-performative language use

Function The relatively new genre of drama enjoys a rising popularity since the introduction of radio broadcasting in Congo in the 1920s. In towns such as Isiro (30.000 inhabitants) tapes with audio dramas are sold on the market.176 In Budu drama is one of the ‘wisdom’ genres, which express individual insights with implicit communication. As pact stories, proverbs, and riddles it reflects individual expression. In contrast to community involvement, wisdom genres are used to formulate evaluations that usually further the development of a discussion. The caricatures on the stage imply evaluations of social cases by their funny language use. Their isolated statements do not contribute by themselves to the dramatic development of the text, for which they rely on indications on the stage. Drama is distinguished as a non-performative, informal event used during leisure time.

Form Drama is a very open genre that consists of the caricature of many speech genres while it portrays the different participants on the stage. A large number of forms occurs significantly in the genre as it seems to dramatically exaggerate the frequencies in normal language use in its caricature presentation of

175Possibly the lugo, pronounced alternatively as rugo, is etymologically related to the name of the slit drum rigo. This huge instrument is considered to “symbolise the males” (Costermans (1947:653) mentions it as one of the musical instruments used in the Watsa district to the East of the Wamba district; an area through which the Budu migrated and where some still live). 176See Fabian (1996) for a thorough documentation of this extremely dynamic genre and its development in Congo from its use during colonial days for entertainment and to its present day use to voice critical reflections on society.

341 speech. Code-switching and the use of loanwords from languages of wider communication are exploited to indicate social and educational characteristics of the participants. The genre forms, almost in a literal sense, a platform where various perspectives on society can be demonstrated and ridiculed in episodic interaction. Various perspectives on social reality are usually presented in drama. Similar to proverbs this genre comments only indirectly on society; amplifying it with caricature. The genre of drama consists of a sequence of chronologically un-structured dialogues that together present the author’s perspective on society. The presence of the stage during plays is reflected in the consistent appeals to the addressees combined with the lack of specific information in the presence of visible cues. Drama reflects face-to-face interaction with highly directive language between individual participants without involvement of larger groups or of the audience. Drama is distinguished as prepared production reflecting its preparation in script. It is the genre with most negative distinctions for spontaneous production, reflecting its production in writing. With church songs it is the only genre memorised from script.

16. Work Orders pananaka ta Distinguished as: no concern for temporally-connective presentation of events; explicit information; directive communication; without community involvement; spontaneous production; non-performative language use.

Function This genre is called literally ‘to show the work’ pananaka ta, indicating its main function. Work orders are spontaneously produced whenever the occasion arises for a young relative to get advice or to receive instructions in practical matters. Work orders including recipes and travel instructions are also referred to as instruction mapan. This particular genre includes the sub-genre of parental advice with its typical binary contrast between morally ‘good’ examples and ‘bad’ behaviour that is to be avoided.

Form Work orders always include a live demonstration of the described actions and often include an indication of the involved objects. Also the first and second person Imperfect forms, which are significant for work orders, reflect the same context of production that the speaker and addressee share. The immediate need which this directive genre expresses is that the next procedural step is taken by the addressee: in carrying out work orders, in preparing a meal or while making a journey. The procedural genre ‘de-contextualises’ only ‘one step ahead’. This results in less explicit communication than is characteristic for extremely explicit medical information for instance. Co-occurrences with adjectives, associative constructions and adverbs express the know-how of the older relative in the teacher role. Whereas most non-connective genres derive their structuring from the elements of the non- verbal context of production, work orders are semantically structured. They indicate an ordering of the involved procedures, in contrast also to other directive texts. The arbitrary use of some connective forms in combination with a significant use of the mitigation particle -s ‘first’ is exploited to indicate the chronology of the most important steps in the procedure. Imperatives and mitigation markers mark the mainline procedures, while simple imperfects mark the background information.

342 7.3.3 Conclusion about Sixteen Text Types in Budu

The sixteen genres of Budu were presented as given cultural categories of socially recognised text types in chapter 3. In this chapter a linguistic definition of each of the prototypical text types was presented in relation to the expected language use as it can be deduced from observed frequencies of forms in the researched corpus. Some genres exhibit language use that can be explained from their cultural function, for instance ghost stories and animal stories. Other stories exhibit an indistinctive nature reflecting a rather heterogeneous nature of their category of texts, for instance parables and pulpit speech. Other distinctions follow the frequent repetitions in the genre, for instance church songs or pact stories. Nevertheless the main dimensions of language use are clearly manifest in the cultural contrasts that seem important in Budu. The egalitarian character of the society is reflected in the important role of community-involved celebrations and in its careful handling of face-threatening situations by appeals to solidarity with other community members. The fact that two of the six parameters of language use are determined by the egalitarian character of Budu society is of cross-cultural interest. 7.4 Conclusion about Distinctions in Conventional Use of Budu

One of the questions related to the main research question of this thesis concerned the continuation of patterns of co-occurrence in the modern genres as compared to Biber’s dimensions of variation. This regards genres that were shaped during a period of intensified contact with literate traditions in other cultures. Some of them, like life stories, church songs, and parables already existed in a different form and were only modified under the influence of acculturating genres. For example, as from 2001, short expositions with cultural documentation started to be edited in the form of booklets, while the genre of speeches with similar expositions was in use by older men who used them while explaining their clan history. Printing possibilities gave rise to altered, more general subjects for these texts, including more addressees than just the own lineage of the author. Life stories and parables represent other modified genres. Life stories were extended to establish acquaintances with members of other village-, or church communities after roads and improved security facilitated travelling. In the context of church conferences, with representatives of various villages in large areas, the sub-genre nekpabi ‘testimony’ developed, including its many references to well-known leaders of the denomination and to specific periods, years and places. Most life stories still concern individual experiences. Future research is needed to find out whether differences between the sub-genre nekpabi and the more general life stories indicate a particular development, in terms of the dimensions that are distinguished. Parables with moral lessons were extended to teach Christian doctrine, while songs started to include celebrations of church gatherings. Unfortunately other sermon types were not included in the researched corpus. Future research is needed to discover eventual differences between parables with moral lessons and Christian teaching that uses similar allegoric stories. At first sight the differences seem to pertain to Christian jargon and concern no choices of morpho-syntactic categories. If such systematic differences could be discovered, they would need to be interpreted in terms of the dimensions that are reflected. Drama in Lingala and Swahili was introduced as a new genre during the colonial epoch, when it provided distraction from the hardships of forced cotton labour. The function of Budu drama is similar to that of the wisdom genres of proverbs and riddles because also those genres are used to express individual evaluations regarding social issues, while not explicitly involving the community with the use of features of the fourth cluster. Drama provides a way to indirectly express the personal view of the script-writer on society, as it is demonstrated by his display of sequences of scenes with interaction on an open platform with all kinds of language use. Unlike narrative genres drama has an open set of

343 embedded genres. Drama is entirely different from riddles and proverbs in other respects and hardly represents a continued pattern of language use. Three more general observations can be made in hindsight. The first concerns the parameter ‘involvement of the community versus no involvement of the community’. The distinctions of this parameter are multifunctional. They are also used as distinctions of the expression of information. The six forms multifunctional forms reflects that most teaching in Budu happens during individual interaction and not during group activities. At the same time it reflects just as much that group activities tend to rely on unspecified, shared cultural knowledge. Whether the individual setting of the transmission of knowledge is the most important aspect of this contrast or whether it is the group activities with shared knowledge remains to be researched. One conclusion is an important contrast is manifest in Budu language use between face-to-face situations of the transmission of new information and group activities where shared knowledge is assumed. A second observation concerns the similarity between community-involved communication and the performative language use that occurs in most institutional settings. Resemblances suggest that any authority associated with performative language use is conditioned by community-involved events. Performative authority seems to not exist without community involvement. Even with the strong acculturating influences of individual teaching in Swahili and French schools, where information is expressed in theoretical expositions, transmission of knowledge never developed as a Budu genre with the individual expression that characterises the transmission of knowledge, or at least not in combination with the distinctively performative language use that characterises institutionalised settings in Budu society. The third observation concerns the extent to which directive genres express an appeal. Variables that distinguish directive communication in Budu express a straightforward appeal to the addressee(s), as was earlier observed. However, this appeal can be either light, or extremely serious, depending on the other dimensions for which the genre is distinguished. Implicit information seems to represent the lightest appeal, whereas directive genres without explicit information are used for entertainment, for instance in drama; trickster stories and ghost stories.177 A combination of directive and performative distinctions seems to result in more serious messages. This kind of communication is represented by directive performative genres, as for instance parables & other pulpit speech; reproaches; mourning songs; wedding songs. The most serious impact is the directive performative language use that is most distinguished for community involvement, namely church songs, circumcision songs and reproaches in trickster stories. There therefore seems to be a range from ‘light’ entertainment, represented by directive implicit communication, to moderate seriousness, represented by directive performative language use and ‘heavy’ messages of the most serious nature, which occur in life-threatening situations.178 This chapter described, illustrated and explained the main patterns of conventional language use in Budu. Language users seem subconciously aware of the metalinguistic function of these patterns, as can be observed from the predictable use of significant co-occurrences of distinctive forms in Budu genres. The complementary distribution of these clusters of co-occurrences is consistent and thereby indicates the unity of the co-occurrences as meaning-bearing units in communication. These units distinguish different dimensions of communication, such as the authority that the speaker assumes in performative language use, the production of the text, the (lack of) directive statements towards the addressee or attempts to involve the audience, the (absence of) concern for a temporally-connective presentation of chronologically ordered events and the type of information (whether explicit or implicit).

177While implicit information in combination with distinctions of directive appeals can be entertaining, explicit non-directive genres in contrast are not meant to be humorous (proverbs; cultural documentation, medical information, life stories). 178Infections of the circumcision wounds can be life-threatening and so are the situations that arise when a blood- brother friendship is declared to be over.

344 Language users are not only handling these units in their conventional use of the language, as they consistently apply the patterns that were described in this chapter. They may also exploit these units in creative language use, as described in the next chapter.

Appendix 7.A Genres in the Bhasa Text Public Genres and Related Speech Genres (numbering corresponds to excerpt in 7.2.4.3)

Genres relating to mujonokio w bhasa Glossed genre names related subgenres ‘meetings in the bhasa ‘village house’ (embedded genres in italics) 1. masa ‘information’ agreements 2. ndyakaka ‘to eat meals’ welcoming; exchange of experiences (life stories) travel instructions 3. masa n kwananakíso ‘news and explanations’ speeches about the ancestors and their way of life (cultural documentation and genealogy) speeches about life experiences (life stories) 4 and 14. mapan ‘instructions’ decrees; work instructions; recipes 5. madhuba ‘palavers’ disputes or palavers; proverbs; parables 6. migenú ‘stories’ trickster stories; pact stories; riddles& short stories 7. yáka y nmbmbánaka ak ubéí ‘wisdom about life’ moral advice (in work orders) 8. bhua mskana ‘wedding dates’ wedding (party) songs; party arrangements; dowry disputes 9. bhua gn ‘the arrangements of circumcision songs; circumcision; instruction re. male role; circumcision festivities’ animal stories about blood brothers 10. bhua mpaka ‘the arrangements reproaches; regarding the distribution accusations; of the goods (of a widow) disagreements ’ 11. yáka y ingwo ‘funerals; mourning ghost stories; (waking with the funeral arrangements; deceased) ’ mourning songs 12.anmba mano k babhika ‘to announce the names speeches to of guests’ welcome guests; news& life stories by guests 13. makyp ‘drinking’ drinking songs (in party songs); mocking songs

345 (in story songs) 1. Masa ‘information’ entails a large collection of subgenres varying from official announcements to news concerning other villages but also including personal stories about hunting experiences.

2. Ndyakaka ‘to feed’ refers to the organisation of shared meals in the public house, welcoming guests of the village and sharing life stories with new experiences from other places. In contrast to the fire place of individual homes, the public fire place in the bhasa ‘public house’ is the meeting place where anonymous strangers arrive. Such strangers are hosted to sleep in the church building to protect them against the rain. Hospitality includes elaborate travel instructions, to ensure that the stranger does not get lost. A few texts of this genre were included as work orders in the researched corpus. In contrast, personal homes are used to host personal guests and the family fire is used for family meetings in the morning to discuss the daily chores and in the evening discuss each other’s experiences of the day.179

3. Masa n kwananakíso ‘information and explanations’ are issues of personal interest that require explanation, as the history of the lineage or the life experiences of older or foreign individuals. Cultural documentation and life stories are related genres that were included in the researched corpus.

4. (and 14.) Mapan ‘instruction’ is mentioned twice in the bhasa text. A special subgenre is the chief’s decree nkn that the ngámá uses to inform all villagers of new orders. This kind of decree often occurs embedded in pact stories or parables. However, work orders including recipes and travel instructions can also be referred to as instruction mapan.

5. proverbs are typically used by older Budu speakers during palavers. They express wisdom as expressed under 7. in this list. The madubha used to represent important juridicial meetings of the council of village elders in the public meeting place.180

6. migenú all genres distinguished for temporally-connective presentation of events have human protagonists, except for trickster stories and animal stories. Funny short stories about human beings migenú mombí contain anecdotes and jokes like 9. migenú nama animal stories.

7. yáka y nmbmbánaka ak ubéí ‘wisdom regarding life’ is conveyed within the home, provided in form of a genre that is named with the singular noun pan for ‘instruction’ or ‘moral advice’. Parental advice is characterised by its binary structure. It invariably contains contrasts between ‘good’ and ‘bad’ examples and corresponding promises and warnings. In some moral advices181 children are explicitly exhorted to ‘sit’ wólo with their parents and to ‘follow’ kpata parental advice and imitate their examples.182 For an example see appendix 8C. Proverbs are part of the social evaluations expressed in this genre.

8. Wedding- and dance songs represent a wide range of various subgenres. Disputes over the bride price or over the dowry and party arrangements may take months and sometimes even years. They represent private affairs. In contrast to these genres, funerals, that also form a threat to group harmony, are publicly discussed.

179Abati describes the kitchen fire in text 12 written in 2002, where he compares its place with a chicken coop, which sees its inhabitants only early in the morning and late at night. 180This was observed in 1949 for instance by Lambrecht (1994:47). 181For example the moral advice on tape 29 text 10 recorded in June 1992 with Bakman-Mungaki. 182As can be read in line 9 and 10 of this bhasa text in section 7.2.4.3.

346 10. yáka y ingwo ‘matters of death’ and especially bhua mpaka the arrangements regarding the distribution of the goods of a widow in the bhasa text need to be discussed as public affairs. During disputes over the widow’s possessions relatives of the deceased may accuse the widow of having killed her husband. This accusation is not without an interest to the accuser, since, as a punishment, all the possessions of the widow are taken from her. The church started to discourage such double misfortune for its female members.

13. makyp ‘beer parties’ include mocking songs. A sub-genre of drinking songs mocks such persons for being irresponsible, for example if they are not even capable of chasing away birds from the fields during the time approaching the rice harvest.

14. The repeated mention of mapan ‘advice’ in the bhasa text clarifies a shift that took place in society. See the section on parables & other pulpit speech in section 7.3.

347

Chapter 8. The Creative Use of Genre Features

“… genres can operate as fluid and mutable components of a society’s metadiscursive landscape, providing an array of conceptual frames and narrative possibilities through which perceptions of self, other, and world are mediated … ” Goodman, Jane E. (2001:109) 8.0 Introduction

This chapter presents a case study of the creative use of genre features. It describes language use in two medical texts in an attempt to document the ongoing use of Budu genre conventions in a society in transition. While chapters 5 to 7 presented conventional language use, this chapter focuses on innovative language use. Innovative use of the existing conventions typically occurs in new situations representing conflicting ideologies. The combined use of widely varying genre conventions within one single text results from the creative application of “potentially relevant resources to new situations” by text producers who work in a society with “extreme ideological diversity,” according to Fairclough1 (1988:119).2 The creative use of language described in this chapter seems to reflect some ideological diversity indeed, with the medical care in the area South of Isiro being developed during the twentieth century, leaving unresolved issues which are reflected in the language use in related genres. Since medical care is the best documented area of social life in northeast Congo, social transitions can be verified in the literature. In the first half of this chapter the extreme ideological diversity at work in Budu society will be explained with reference to this literature. This introductory section also includes an excerpt that provides evidence the effect of this ideological diversity on the use of acculturated language, in particular the language that is used for the transmission of knowledge.3 Although, in the first half of the chapter, background information is provided concerning this ideological diversity, the focus of the entire chapter is on innovative language use, which will be analysed in the second half, concluding with some hypotheses for future research. In this discussion some “potentially relevant resources,” to return to the terms Fairclough used (1988:119) will be analysed with reference to the conclusions reached.4 These resources seem to have been creatively applied in the Budu genre of medical information. The genre of medical information therefore seems the most interesting case of creative language use, reflecting major transitions in Budu society while a certain continuity is nevertheless evident when the language use is analysed. Medical information tends to be thematically structured without chronological ordering, while it is also characterised by the most explicitly formulated information in the researched corpus. This was one of the conclusions in chapters 5 to 7, where results were interpreted and analysed.5 In contrast to directive genres, a text with medical information reflects the pursuit of the long-term purposes as represented in primary health care and in the transmission of knowledge concerning hygiene and

1 The school of Critical Discourse Analysis seeks to expose ideological powers reflected in texts. Although I quote one of CDA’s important representatives, I only use his terminology to interpret mixed language as typically reflecting transition. 2 Fairclough illustrates this with his analysis of instructions with visa cards, which represent a mixture of ‘selling’ and ‘telling’ styles that reflect conflicting ideologies within this new genre (op. cit. p. 122 ff). 3 The excerpt in this section is taken from the same play as the excerpt in section 7.2.6.7. 4 I refer to the conclusions about performative, directive, narrative and explicatory communication in the sections 7.2.1.7, 7.2.3.8, 7.2.4.8 and 7.2.6.10. 5 In section 7.2.2 an excerpt with medical information is discussed, cf. the overview discussed in 5.2.2.1.

349 nutritional values. The language use displays a redundancy that apparently facilitates comprehension for young uneducated mothers and children as the most important categories of the target group. Although medical information is directly related to the francophone medical institutions in the Wamba district, related Buduphone medical information is not distinguished by the performative language use that characterises Budu institutional settings.6 Texts with medical information differ from language in Budu institutional contexts since they are descriptive and reflect non-performative communication. For the presentation of unknown information live demonstrations are required with reference to observable facts. The information usually includes linguistic forms7 that assume a minimal acquaintance with the topic while qualifying the ‘teacher’ with the position required for the evaluation of objects and participants. Until new genres for the transmission of knowledge were developed, stereotypical evaluations of this kind were significant in proverbs only, formulated in short and witty statements. The use of longer stretches of text with evaluations and listed facts represents a relatively new style of transmission of knowledge expressed through speeches with cultural documentation and medical information, which, next to life stories, are only used on special occasions. They represent the individual expression of thoughts without the involvement of the audience. In contrast to various major differences with proverbs, this aspect of the new transmission of knowledge resembles the expression of explicit information during palavers as it occurs in proverbs. Proverbs are, for example, extremely concise in their formulation. The conflicting ideologies which are represented in newer genres for the transmission of knowledge are emphasized in the following caricature of school language observed in a piece of drama,8 at a drinking party where two contemporaries develop an argument:

AMBÏNÖMACHWEI: Ü-ngwa anaa(ní). Espese de siase botanikë. Ambinomachwei: IMP- go there “sort of science botanical” (French expression) 1. Ambinomachwei: Get away there you “species out of BOTANICAL science”

And during the same party the addressed person, named Aku, mocks a school lesson, saying:

Ïmb-éni-sï tá, bö ü-kyëpü w-a ï-kyëmü yï-tà-bïbî. Know.IMP-PL-MODP just that CL-wine CL-IPF.be CL-thing CL-ADI- bad 12.”You just need to know this in the first place: that palm wine is a BAD thing”.

Ya kwanja, wö-bïnï ná-wö a-nïmwa, müpaka wa-jü-öö-sï m-esu. Of first (SW) PF.2SG-accept ADD-CL INF-drink until (SW) CL.IPF- arrive-RAF- MODP CL-eye 13. “First (it is bad), after you’ve consented to drink it, until the moment when it starts to arrive at the eyes, [14.………………and in the second place………….]

Ya tatu, ü-kyëpü w-angö nô ï-nyëngüü. AMBÏNÖMACHWEI: Ya ine? Of third (SW), CL-wine CL-NEG ADD-CL-mother.in.law A. of fourth (SW) In the third place, wine has no mother in law. A (name): In the fourth place? 15. In the third place, wine has no in-law.” Ambinomachwei says: “In the fourth place?”

AKÜ: Tîa kû üwë aka wá-nïmbîa ya ine A. now too you here IPF.2SG-know of 4th (SW) 16. Aku: “Now you will experience yourself what comes in the fourth place

6 Apart from the hospitals and health clinics in Nebobongo, Pawa, Wamba and Ibambi and in circumcision festivals, storytelling sessions with animal stories and in songs used for mourning. 7 Some forms that are included are adjectives, adverbs and associative constructions. 8 The play was written by Bambinesenge (1996). Note that also four texts with school language were categorised together with medical information in the corpus research described in this dissertation. This excerpt therefore in fact represents a caricature of the genre discussed in the present chapter.

350 nô ya tano nô ya sita nô ya saba. and of 5th (SW) and of 6th(SW) and of 7th(SW) and in the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh place …

This excerpt displays language use with conventions that, in chapter 5, were found to be characteristic for teaching. Note the use of adjectives denoted by capitals in the translation. In the first line, a student scolds his fellow student with the French adjective botanique ’botanical.’ Since the use of Budu adjectives implies acquaintance with the subject, they occur significantly in genres that are typically used by older and more experienced members of society, as was discussed in section 5.2.2.Teachers and employers are known to use French evaluations, although not always in an appreciative manner.9 The connotations of less friendly use make adjectives effective as a means to scold comrades, as the first line shows. The use of a French adjective to evaluate somebody of equal ranking is a doubly devastating expression of irritation.10 In several languages of North Eastern Congo nicknames with attributive adjectives were used in the language of the oppressor.11 Another adjective is used in line 2 by fellow student Aku. He uses this feature of explicit information to mock a school lesson with a structuring expression from Swahili, a language that is used in the first three grades of primary school. The Swahili expression ‘in the first place’ represents an attempt to imitate school language in line 3. Line 4 is skipped to summarise the fragment. The topic of the lesson is palm wine, this being the main occupation of the students during this drinking party. Aku starts to list the effects of palm wine as if he is presenting a school lesson.12 Apparently the drunken student forgets to continue with his list, until he is reminded to finish it by the first speaker Ambinomachwei. So far, three characteristic features of explicit information are used in order to mock a lesson. The first is the attributive adjective in line 2, the second the Swahili function word in line 3 and the third the occurrence of listed information.13 Listed information resembles the presentation of nutritional information in the booklet containing medical information.14 In line 6 the speaker hilariously refers to the addressee’s own experience with the subject matter. Both students are equally intoxicated during this scene, making them acquainted enough with

9 Lambrecht (1999) reports on the tradition of European employers in Budu town Pawa. According to him these employers used obscure evaluations of their workers in obligatory work-documents. This tradition enabled newcomers to interpret the real qualities of candidate employees. The expressions consisted of French adjectives and other qualifiers like: ‘adorant le soleil’ for ‘lazy’ persons or: ‘matineus’ to indicate the timely arrival that characterised a worker. Also in the history of forced cotton production the use of so called ‘fiches de contrôle et surveillance’ was of critical importance (Likaka 1995:203). The written remarks and observations of administrators formed a mechanism to make farmers produce, as it probably exploited the social shame that is so important in most societies of North Eastern Congo. 10 Similarly Bloch (1998), in an article called ‘Why do Malgasy cows speak French?,’ analyses the use of French derogatory exhortations expressed towards cows. In Malgasy this kind of scolding forms an outlet for employees who were being scolded in colonial usages of French. 11 Czechanowsky (1924:11) lists French and Swahili nicknames for several leaders in the national army, such as attention denoting somebody who always addressed his soldiers with this order, and tumbo pete-pete ‘belly slow-slow’ for a commander with difficult pronunciation; or mafuta mingi ‘fat much’ for somebody with considerable body mass; and koko malari ‘chicken sick’ for somebody with a special commandeering voice; Likaka (1995:207) mentions the Lingala names used for colonial administrators who forced the population to produce cotton meaning ‘red lips’ or matala ‘glasses’ used for severe cotton officials who checked everything. In both examples it is striking that the use of attributive adjectives occur next to other elements referring to foreign influence. 12 The speaker’s reference to the ‘in-law,’ in line 5, implicitly refers to the custom that men are not allowed to eat in the presence of their mother-in-law. Palm wine can be consumed without social restrictions in Budu society, and therefore it ‘has no in-law,’ so to speak. 13 That listed information is typically not temporally-connective in its presentation. 14 Another example is the list of Budu vowels in the literacy lesson in section 7.2.2.6 that were also tagged in this category as indicated in table 4.1A in chapter 4.

351 the subject matter to qualify them as teachers. The ‘teacher’ answers ‘the pupils’ request for more information with an answer that could be paraphrased as: “You have no need of being taught about this, since you too have practical acquaintance with palm wine.” This playful allusion to the speakers own experience with the subject matter also brings to the surface that a painful contrast exists between the long expositions that are used for transmitting knowledge in acculturated genres and the short and witty evaluations by experienced members of the community in Budu genres, such as proverbs or work orders. That contrast represents some conflicting ideologies represented in the transmission of knowledge in Budu society: next to traditional Budu teaching style there are acculturated genres for teaching. The tension that was illustrated with the caricatured language use in the above excerpt can be clarified by means of a comparison of old and new genres used for the transmission of knowledge.15 To obtain objective criteria for such a comparison I refer to chapter 1, where the idea of universal characteristics of genres was mentioned in relation to Bergmann and Luckmann (1994:23). In New Rhetorics, theorists base the idea that genres have universal characteristics on the occurrence of related problems in each language group (in Mayes 2003:5-9).16 The following table 8.A displays various genres that are all used for the transmission of knowledge. Non-linguistic points of comparison are helpful for genres that share the distribution of distinctive linguistic elements, such as these explicit genres. Mayes’ three points of comparison can be applied to the various genres of knowledge transmission in Budu:

Table 8.A Different genres used for the transmission of knowledge in Budu society point of proverbs riddles work life stories; teaching17 \genre orders/advice medical comparison\ information cultural speech setting: public palaver private home private work semi-public classroom after work place social position experienced older children to older relative knowledgeable paid teacher of the speaker: member younger vs. younger person; paid nurse or doctor activity: evaluate compete and demonstrate evaluate explain social case entertain skill observed facts information through through or experience metaphor language game

15 Genres that are distinguished as explicit information with the second cluster, as discussed in 5.2.2. These genres tend to be used for the transmission of knowledge in Budu. 16 Mayes (2003:6) mentions a recent description of genre development in Scottish English during the 16th and 17th centuries: Devitt (1989. She observes that situation types remain the same despite changes in rhetorical situation. Mayes (2003:6-9) continues to list several illustrations of her statement that place and function tend to remain the same, even if genres develop in other respects; referring for example to a study of American English Freadman (1994) and to Giddens who observes two stable factors of genre categories in relation to performative language, namely the interface between space and time (Giddens 1984:84 in mayes 2003:7). Some social positions will always be associated with a particular genre depending on how institutionalised the genre is (Luckmann 1992; Auer 1992). Mayes (2003:9) summarises these points comparing genres from different periods of history and genres from different cultures concluding that American and Japanese cooking classes can be compared because of their similarities in setting, social position and activity. 17 NB In Budu society Swahili is used until primary school grade 4; French from grade 4 and in secondary school.

352

Table 8.A displays a comparison of genres with explicit information, which are used to transmit unknown information, as was established in chapters 4 and 5. In all these genres the speaker is well acquainted with the information presented. In the case of riddles, speakers are well acquainted with the information due to previous exposure; in the case of proverbs, speakers are acquainted with social ‘wisdom’; in the case of work orders with practical skills; in the case of life stories with personal experiences and in the case of medical information they are professionally trained to make medical observations. At first glance some important differences relating to the three points of comparison become obvious. While proverbs are spoken during public events, most other genres are private or semi-private in character. Life stories may be relayed in informal group meetings, but teaching inevitably occurs in classrooms at times that are scheduled nation-wide and make use of national languages. As for setting, proverbs and teaching are similar in their public character. As regards the social position of the speaker, proverbs differ from teaching. Whereas the first three columns concern genres used by more experienced speakers, the last two columns concern genres where a paid professional shares theoretical knowledge obtained from books.18 Medical information may include references to observed facts or to previously observed symptoms of diseases. Unlike in traditional Budu transmission of knowledge, personal acquaintance with these symptoms is no condition for using the genre. Thirdly, the last two columns exhibit a different type of activity. Whereas the first columns represent demonstrations with observable facts, the last two columns concern genres with lists or enumerations of information. The observable facts may consist of metaphorical references, presentations of puns or demonstrations of procedures; however, they always refer to concrete things. In contrast, classroom teaching and life stories or medical information concern the general principles behind observable facts. Summarising, there seems to be an intertextual ‘gap’ between older and newer genres used for the transmission of knowledge. Important differences between the various genres on display in table 8.A are exaggerated in the introductory excerpt from drama that was just discussed in this section. It can be analysed as a ‘caricature by means of reversal.’ The list of socially relevant symptoms of drunkenness by a teacher, who evidentially experiences those symptoms himself, ironically inverts the conventions used in genres with often completely irrelevant lists of information by somebody who has no practical acquaintance with the subject matter. Drama is a social outlet for the possible friction that arises with the development of new genres. It is not surprising that the drama excerpt plays with language use in newer genres, as it represents a genre that provides ‘food for thought’ regarding changes in society as non-performative genre (as was concluded in chapter 7). The excerpt emphasizes conventions that have not yet stabilised to a fixed form that can be accepted by all community members. Having identified the existing tension between newer and older genres for the transmission of knowledge, this chapter attempts to show how creative language use can be viewed as an attempt to resolve this tension. The tension that was indicated by the caricature of teaching also activates a more structural, innovative use of distinctive features in new genres for the transmission of knowledge, as will be illustrated in this chapter. Innovations contribute to a renewal of those genres that exhibit ambiguities. They arise in order to facilitate the expression and recognition of their communicative intention. In the case of medical information this means that they render the transmission of knowledge more acceptable. The analysis of two texts with medical information in this chapter focuses on innovations as possible means of ‘bridging the gap.’ Creative innovations that occur in more than one text apparently

18 Writings on the blackboard were memorised when books became hard to obtain after 1989, following the collapse of the coffee price. In present day Congo many school children study without school books, copying all the information from the blackboard as long as the teacher has access to written sources, including their own exercise books.

353 represent culturally acceptable ways for conveying information. This is the assumption underlying the presentation in this chapter.

8.1 Background information about Medical Care South of Isiro

The first text that will be discussed consists of a case study which serves as an introduction to eight medical texts in a printed booklet on primary health care. The text about microbes that was briefly discussed with the excerpt of medical information in chapter 7 is one of the eight texts that form this booklet. As an introduction the first text with its case study differs from the other texts. By means of an embedded decree it recommends the observance of a varied diet, which also is discussed in the expositions and displayed in the overviews that form the rest of the booklet.19 The entire booklet was written by a group of trained nurses. Their language use is representative of the acculturating influences represented in medical training, in contrast to the Budu genres that are used to express accumulated wisdom of magbë ‘healers.’20 In the first text traditional healers are referred to as deceptive or literally as magbë kö pëtanaka ‘healers of deceiving’.21 The text gives no explicit reason for the negative evaluation of this traditional Budu institution. However, since the only remark about money occurs prior to the first reference to a healer, the implication is that he tends to act with self interest.22 In Budu society the role of healer is assumed by men or women who have survived a coma, because their near-death experience is supposed to render them in close contact with the spirits of deceased community members, who influence the health of the living. Healers are considered as influential among these spirits. Special committees from the chiefdoms Kpakpanza and Agbau expressed this relation between healing power and a near-death experience as follows: 23 “Because an ïgbë ‘healer’ returned from a situation where he stopped breathing for a while, he has the power and the authority to discover secrets concerning the cause of some misfortune in the life of a person. Consequently, he heals the sick and can send blessing or curse to others. Such healers are respected in the society and receive due honour. Healers start their work without charging his clients. When they begin to charge their clients their healing powers often are observed to decrease.” Traditional healers still seem to play an important role in Budu villages, as text 1 illustrates.24 The theme of the first medical text is the development of the Kwashiorkor type of malnutrition that is caused by deficiencies in the daily diet. The text explicitly formulates ways to prevent this kind of

19 These overviews display various vitamins in relation to food types e.g. palm oil, containing vitamin A, is related to good sight during hours of darkness. 20 Since Budu healers work in secret sessions of diagnosis, the language use in these sessions unfortunately could not be recorded for research. 21 Despite the promotion of natural healing médicine naturelle in the hospital of Nebobongo from the 1990s onwards, many church-trained medical workers in this Nita-dialect area of Budu country disdain traditional healers. These healers are considered as a cause of fear and superstition among uneducated villagers. In their turn, evangelists are avoided by traditional healers. There seems to be a tension between the two groups. The results of a factor analyis of food avoidances in Ituri indicates that school attendance correlates with an increased number of respected food taboos by Aunger (1996). His observation was that Villagers seem to be most loyal to particular food avoidances when they are on a temporary leave from the protection of their lineage. The observance of food avoidances is probably related to the observing of instructions given by traditional healers. 22 A remark made by Wild (1999:456) about the opinions of Christians in North-Eastern Congo seems relevant here: “Christians from all denominations claim that their own rites are public and straightforward, that they are performed for the communal good and are thus productive in society, whereas mysterious rites performed in secret or at night are suspected of being for the private gain at the expense of others and so are destructive.” 23 This quote is translated from the French of Manzimba Bokwa 1992, the author of this report. 24 The hostility between church members and traditional healers probably is one of the reasons that no texts by magbë ‘healers’ were included in the corpus of texts that the Budu Language Committee collected from 1988.

354 malnutrition, as can be expected with explicit information. In this case study narrative techniques nevertheless are also used to convey the main message.25 These include an implicit presentation of essential information to involve the audience, as in trickster stories. In the most important speech genre that is embedded in the story, the importance of a varied diet is formulated literally as an üpanü ‘law’ or as an underlying principle. Similar to other texts with explicit information, this medical case history explains a general principle. Text 1 is not typical as a medical text with its temporally-connective presentation of events. Prototypical medical information combines a explicit information without connective presentation of events with non-directive communication that is individually expressed with a redundancy that reflects attempts to exclude ambiguity and a descriptive rather than performative language use. This text can therefore be considered as innovative language use. The form of the malnutrition text illustrates how a creative collation of genre features is exploited to warn the audience about this deadly serious disease. Temporally-connective, performative and directive language use are combined with the explicit presentation of information, while all genre features together express an urgent warning that implicitly addresses dangerous assumptions, as will be explained below. The second text presents another case study that was presented as a speech during an informal fireside meeting in 1992. The main pastor of Ibambi exhorted the audience with this case study to drink boiled water in order to stay healthy. In the Wamba district of the Oriental Province of the DRC, medical care and education were organised to a great extent by the churches present from 1911 onwards.26 Pastor Basitande, who was the main pastor of the Protestant Church in 1992, consequently also supervised the mission station including its several schools, maternity clinic and health centre. Like other important pastors he repeatedly stressed the importance of boiling drinking water.27 The theme of the second text is the development of amoebic dysentery. Instead of addressing popular assumptions about the magical cause of malnutrition, this text addresses popular ideas concerning the ‘magic’ effect of biochemical medicine from the health clinic. Orally taken medicines in Swahili are referred to as dawa and in Budu with bütî. In both languages this is the generic name for medicines, including both natural medicines from plants and biochemical medicines. Western biochemical medicines were integrated into existing herbal cures. It is therefore not surprising that the users of both types of medicines ascribe a magical working to the cure. In Budu culture sicknesses are seen as the result of social disturbances in the life environment of a patient, and consequently a metaphysical effect is expected from any oral cure.28 The author attempts to explain the physical aspects of using boiled water as a cure.29 The second text also represents a creative collation of cohesive devices, of directive, performative and implicit genre features that are combined with the explicit presentation of information to warn the audience about deadly serious assumptions. Also this second text, about amoebic

25 These narrative techniques involve expressions of the first dimension as discussed in chapters 5 and 7. 26 1911 Roman Catholic Mission school in Bafwabaka, 1913 Heart of Africa Protestant Mission in Ibambi, maternity wards and health clinics were started in Bafwabaka 1930; Wamba 1936; Ibambi 1939; and Pawa 1945. A hospital was built in Nebobongo eleven kilometres from Ibambi in 1941, expanding the medical work organised by the International Red Cross from Pawa in 1924 onwards. 27 Van Der Poort mentions pastor Ndonda from Isiro as a Mayogo pastor who mentioned the need to boil drinking water ‘every now and then during his speeches in the church’ (1973:115). 28 See the excellent analysis of witchcraft in relation to medicine use by Emma Wild in her discussion of the theology of Anglicans in North Eastern Congo around 1996 (Wild 1999). 29 Fabian’s anthropological analysis of use of the term ‘hygiene’ in colonial Belgian Congo (1990) draws attention to other possible aspects of reference to new hygienic routines. Fabian seems to suggest that references to the notion of ‘hygiene’ by educated Congolese may still reflect connotations of the use around 1890, when this notion developed into an asset of a social group, almost like a pass word that suggests a lifestyle which represents more than just the killing of microbes. “Military men of colonial action” are quoted in his analysis (1990:161) to recommend “health, not simply understood as the absence of illness, but as a positive power to control oneself and ones environment.” Such recommendations were considered as distinctive virtues of these ‘men with their civilizing mission;’ not “as means to better understand the world” (Fabian 1990:161).

355 dysentery, is not typical for the genre of medical information. Medical information is usually presented explicitly and without chronologically ordered events, without attempts to involve the audience, in non- directive language that at the same time has enough redundancy to exclude ambiguity resulting in a clear description of facts rather than in a performative statement with immediate impact. This dysentery text therefore can be considered as innovative language use. The form of the second text resembles moral advices (see appendix 3), exhibiting a binary structure with a contrast of good and bad examples ‘to be followed’ including the related promises and warnings. It is surprising that the examples are given in the form of an elaborate case study about the personal experience of the speaker. Even more surprising is the fact that it begins with an oath formula to guarantee the audience of the truth of the statements. Before the creative use of language in the two innovative texts is discussed and compared, some background information is given to provide a perspective of the analysis of the language use in the second half of this chapter. Innovative language use is a reaction to changing situations in society. It is not possible to provide a full account of the changes related to the linguistic innovations under discussion. In the following sections I will try to summarise the most relevant developments.

8.1.1 Health as a Concept of General Well-being

Of all genres in use since the orthography was officially established in 1996, texts with medical information represent the most radical break with the past.30 Medical information represents an acculturated genre. Formulated in Budu, medical information transmits insights that have been acquired through French medical training. These texts represent an outside influence of centrally organised medical services that continue to replace the discourse of traditional Budu ‘healers’ magbë. Medical information provides an extreme example of acculturated communication, which comes into direct conflict with traditional ideologies. This clash of ideologies has developed over the course of the twentieth century. In Budu culture, health is considered as one single aspect of the social well-being of individuals. It is crucial for this bühêa ‘well-being’ that individuals observe appropriate avoidances, which express their respect for others. Budu healers transmit knowledge about avoidances that guarantee success in, for example, hunting, child bearing, love and business. Budu hunters for example should never leave the fire place at their homes in disorder, or this could spoil their success in hunting.31 Similarly the neighbouring Lese farmers abstain from sexual intercourse preceding their hunting expeditions (Grinker 1994). These examples illustrate the relation of avoidances to ‘the general state of wellbeing’ for groups of agriculturalists in the Wamba district. Traditional healers address minor concerns occurring in daily life.32 Healers specialised in exposing ‘witches’ are the most expensive to consult. When a disturbing situation continues to disrupt the well-being of a person, healers are consulted rather than ordinary plant doctors. The strategies used for dealing with witchcraft developed in a situation where they ‘minimised ostensive intra-village hostility’ (Grinker 1994:187). Grinker summarises the worldview in which

30 Although the use of church songs and parables & pulpit speech seems related to an entirely new institution (the church) in Budu culture, the community-involvement in these performative genres is comparable to genres that existed prior to the church, for instance in circumcision songs and party songs, and in parable stories. 31 Text 12 with cultural information by Mr. Abati in Nairobi in 2002 says: Jënê pëï,babisugo:ga woseni a lipindi, ufini ngüwüsöö wobieni kömü udó, wangöwa nama. ‘They used to say in former days: “Concerning the inspection of your traps, you will not kill animals if your kitchen is not proper.” 32 Traditional healers treat illnesses since they know how to identify plants for brewing medical tea or for producing pain-relieving ashes that are rubbed into bodily incisions.

356 witchcraft is related to internal problems in the extended family and is discussed during funerals. When a cadaver swells quickly this is attributed to witchcraft substance. Witches are seen as supernatural persons in a normal body. However they can leave this body and appear in an animal shape so as to remove body parts of victims, ‘eat’ them and replace them, causing the person to die in a seemingly natural way. The healers can determine whether a person has died due to the intervention of witches. Anybody who arouses envy can be accused of causing a supernatural death. Eating alone without sharing or failing to avoid certain types of food can provoke the jealousy of witches, and is therefore considered as suspicious behaviour in the village community. Entertaining evil thoughts about somebody also makes that person vulnerable to the hidden attacks of witches. Possible victims of witches are those who provoke jealousy, after which the witch uses symbolic concoctions to ‘eat’ the victims at night, with the reduced risk of exposure as they can only be seen by other witches. Anybody in the extended family can be an enemy that is bewitching his or her relatives by merely entertaining evil thoughts. Strategies to resolve witchcraft are meant to restore group harmony. Healers can see no further than their clients’ immediate futures and can answer few questions more specific than whether their clients will die from witchcraft or live. Their main duty is to identify the witch or witches within a client’s clan, so the victim can flee to a safer village. Grinker (1994:185-6) writes about Budu and Lese healers noko todu who throw sticks called noko and read the position of the sticks in order to tell the future. Another noko is a ball that hangs from a stick which spins faster if a client is bewitched and slower if he or she is unharmed. When a noko todu healer tells a client the name of the witch who has caused misfortune or death, the client frequently leaves the village to establish a new house but will not speak publicly of the witch.33 Only one Budu-specific ordeal is documented by Jonk and Bouritius (1952: 608 + 611).34 It was used by healers to determine whether a sick person would die and also whether a suspect was guilty or not. In the context of the church a completely different approach to bühêa the general ‘well-being’ of a person was introduced. This approach can be best understood in the context of funerals. Because of the numerous outbreaks of violence that occur during mourning, the church authorities took several measures to protect social harmony. One of the measures is that mourning extends not longer than three nights. In former days, members of the entire neighbourhood held a wake for several days with the family of the deceased around the dead body.35 Villagers used to return with their sleeping mats and some food every night for an entire week to distract and comfort the closest relatives, who had mourned the entire day without food. Reducing the mourning time to three days also reduced the risks of violent outbreaks. Another measure is that relatives are discouraged from screaming or hurting anybody, including themselves. Church members can be excommunicated for inappropriate behaviour during a funeral. Thirdly, and this is most relevant here, any physical circumstances that might contribute to sickness or death began to be emphasized in an attempt to keep people from speculating about supernatural causes of death. The medical texts discussed in this chapter are indirectly related to a concern about the anger that accusations of witchcraft may cause. It is not coincidental that one of the texts was formulated by a pastor who then was the principal authority of the church in Ibambi. The need for a new approach to ‘well-being’ is felt most clearly during funerals when traditional strategies to minimise overt hostility no longer worked and even resulted in violent outbreaks.

33 Ordeals with similar functions were in use among neighbouring Mangbetu, Mayogo and among the Zande, as described in Keim and Schildkrout (1990), Van Der Poort (1973) and Evans-Pritchard (1937). 34 One oracle jandu is based on the behaviour of nuts, which are placed in a bottle with water. If five of of the twelve nuts float, the accused is found guilty and may be killed. If the nuts sink to the bottom of the bottle, the accused is found innocent. The other oracle is based on the position of an egg on the hand of the healer. If the egg stands, the sick person will die, if it remains flat, it is believed that the sick person will recover. 35 For more details see the information about the function of ghost stories in 7.3.

357 8.1.2 A Historical Affinity of the Budu with Medical Services

The dissemination of medical information as an alternative solution to guarantee bühêa the general ‘well-being’ of a person in the community is related to the impact of medical services by the Red Cross in the area. Budu speakers developed a historical affinity with specialist medical care. This in combination with the economic success of farmers in the Budu-speaking area favoured the use of schooling and medical services. Aunger (1996) concludes that the Budu are among the most open language groups regarding changes in comparison to groups living to the East of the Budu.36 Various factors can be identified for the development of this openness towards schooling and church attendance. A closer look at the recent past of the Wamba district clarifies how a new approach to well- being was engrained in the lives of farmers and their families during the twentieth century. During the 1920s the Belgian occupying forces declared healers’ activities illegal, since several ordeals to identify witches were considered to put the labour population at risk. They underestimated the role of the healers in health care, and with the lack of any alternative health care many inhabitants of north eastern Congo died of infectious diseases imported by the numerous expeditions in the area (Vansina 1995: 245). The Wamba district of Haut Ituri was an exception in more than one way. Since this area had the highest incidence of tsetse fly-related diseases37 and on top of this, a high percentage of leprosy,38 veneral diseases39 and malaria, it soon became one of the first areas where a network of medical services was organised at the instigation of the Belgian government40 as part of their plan to exploit the large population of the Haut Uélé province for cotton production.41 Medical care was considered as one aspect of the exploitation. In 1924 the Red Cross of Congo was established as non- governmental organisation without religious affiliation in the Nepoko area (Cornet 1971: 256-261). Cornet documented that the area around the borders of River Nepoko were chosen “because it was beyond the major infrastructure of those days, very poor and at the same time densely populated with people who suffered serious endemic diseases.” Inhabitants of the area worst affected by foreign troops, including Arab and Sudanic traders, soon developed one of the most effectively organised

36 He uses a quantitative methodology to measure the effect of schooling and church attendance on the number of food items that speakers of various languages avoid. In his survey of the effect of acculturation on the observed food taboos among several groups inhabiting the Ituri area, the Budu exhibit a relatively low number of food taboos, as was already mentioned in chapter 2. 37 Red Cross health officer tropical biologist Lambrecht mentions figures of 20 infected persons per 1000 for the 1940s (1991:71). Therefore the infection rate of the Nepoko area is the highest of the entire continent at that time. 38 Dubois (1933:10) mentions for example a leprosity percentage of 4% of the 18,772 inhabitants of the Mabudu- Makoda section that was surveyed in 1927 under administrator Wary. 39 Czechanowski in his chapter on the Budu population quotes Budu speakers who blame the Arabs (Swahilophone traders) for having imported veneral diseases to the area (1924:296). He reports an alarmingly low number of only 2 to 3 living children in each family for the Nepoko area, with one third of all adult women being childless. cf. Schebesta (1934) and Dubois (1933). 40 After King Leopold of Belgium initiated the start of the African Red Cross in 1899 in Belgium, King Albert in 1923 instigated a committee to do the research prior to the establishing of the Congolese Red Cross in the Nepoko area. The committee consisted of Belgian doctors, missionaries, businesmen and administrators (Cornet 1971:257). 41 The extension of a national railroad Aketi-Isiro to Mungbere (in the Budu area) in the 1930s was mainly organised to transport cotton harvested in the fertile Nepoko-Wamba area. Both rail and train wagons exhibit a unusual compactness (rails 60 cm apart instead of the normal 120 cm) designed for the light cargo (cotton). Those who joined in the construction were admitted upon the condition that they understood French, which gave the study of French a new impetus (Yates 1980). The railroad construction arrived in Isiro (or: Paulis as it was named during the colonial epoch) in 1934, where the work stagnated for a while due to economic reasons. Once finished, its operation continued until the 1980s. Another economic attraction of the area consisted of mineral excavation. From 1920 onwards the Budu-populated district capital Wamba was under extensive construction and landscaping to facilitate mineral excavation in its gold mines. Schebesta describes Wamba’s many factories, plantations, and broad streets lined with palms (1934:88).

358 networks of medical services. While their general well-being benefited from the medical care that was organised, Budu speakers were also trained, for example, to observe pathogenic microbes for themselves. Already in 1925 Red Cross doctor Libois and doctor Boldyreff42 personally trained Budu assistants in Pawa to make diagnoses with help of a microscope.43 In the 1920s leprosy camps and medical dispensaries were established in Pawa, Ibambi; Aviengama, Wamba, and Isiro while from 1930 onwards the order of the Sisters of the Child Jesus would establish medical clinics and maternity wards.44 From 195045 onwards the Heart of Africa Mission established a network of health centres.46 The special infant clinics for mother and baby care attracted increasing numbers of women over the years, while the success of natal care in the Wamba district47 fostered good will towards western medical care. Its success is related to the special affinity that Budu speakers developed over the decades with medical services provided in maternity clinics, hospitals and health centres. The world of the 1950s is remembered as a “virtual welfare state with a new remedy for veneral diseases penicillin, an active road with hundreds of trucks, cars and motorcycles.” “School meant health and money,” the two things which, for Bantu “farmers, were synonymous with children and wives.” Grinker (1994:35-50) comments on the improved circumstances in the Belgian Congo around 1950 while reporting the interviews quoted above with Bantu farmers48 in Ituri. Whereas, in 1920, African medical services virtually did not exist, by the late 1950s the Belgians could justifiably claim that their health service ‘was the best in the whole tropical world.’ The mortality rate dropped from 30-40 per thousand in the interwar period to 20 per thousand in 1957. In relation to this, many Europeans came to Congo to seek their fortune. In 1956 there were eight coffee plantations in the Budu-inhabited town Mungbere as opposed to the 45 in 1960. At the time 80% of the national cotton production came from

42 These Red Cross doctors are mentioned by visiting doctor Dubois (1932) in his “mémoire pour la séance de l’institut Royal Colonial Belge,” where he mentions Dr. Conzémius as one of the founders of the Congolese Red Cross at Pawa. Dr. Emile Conzémius and his Dutch wife, born Anna Meester, had already been in Congo (Katanga) for twelve years engaged in medical jobs before in 1924 they founded a school for medical assistants who could work with microscopes in Pawa, alongside a maternity clinic where from 1925 Anna Meester trained Budu midwives and supervised pre- and postnatal care. Villages with lepers had been organised earlier (1922) by some very cooperative chiefs, in anticipation of medical care as it was promised to them in 1919 by State Doctor Daniel with administrator Libois during their surveys of the area. In February 1924 these leper-villages in Baonuku and Ibambi had already 150 lepers, while the Heart of Africa Mission was involved in motivating the population to carry out this new idea of separate villages for the sick. Before the idea of leper villages was launched, leper patients according to Dr. Dubois where excommunicated and died in social isolation in the forest. To give an impression of the medical work which the Red Cross supervised in the Wamba district I supply the following information from Dubois. The Red Cross organised medical dispensaries in Adamokoko, Betongwe, Obongone, Avakubi, Penge, Bafwasende and Viandana and regularly visited existing dispensaries in Wamba (613 lepers reported in 1930) Ibambi, Babonde, Adzembali, and Medje. The RC hospital in Pawa took care of 300 sick and had 156 houses for medical personnel and for the family of patients. A total of 24,081 different patients were treated in 1928 (Dubois 1932:11). In 1927 as much as 11.5% of the total population of the chiefdom Abiengama (the Mabudu-Makoda clan near Ibambi) had a latent infection with leprosity. For budgetary reasons the Red Cross had to limit its activities to this chiefdom (Dubois 1932:83). 43 The training of medical workers continued when the Red Cross had to limit its activities. Doctor Frank Lambrecht, for example, mentions the training of 6 Budu-speaking laboratory workers in 1945 (1991:69). 44 Maternity wards were started in Bafwabaka 1930; Wamba 1936; Ibambi 1939; and Pawa 1945. 45 In 1955 the graduation of the first class of medical students trained by Doctor Helen Rosevaere was reported (Rosevaere 1976:17). 46 In 1941 the Red Cross delegated the care of 400 lepers in Nebobongo to medical workers of the Heart of Africa Mission. This centre at a distance of 11 kilometers from Ibambi developed from 1941 onwards as main medical centre which developed into a general hospital with Wamba and Ibambi as important satellites. A network of local clinics was supervised by paramedical workers trained by its two medical doctors. 47 cf. Lyons (1992:188), who comments on the success of natal care in North Uele. 48 He mentions the Budu as one of the ethnic groups who formed the majority of employees during the colonial epoch: “New mines were developed by the Belgian government near Wamba, Watsa and Mambasa, where the Budu and the Lese-Otsodo formed the bulk of the labor pool.” (Grinker 1994:35)

359 the province Haut Zaïre with the Wamba-Nepoko area as its centre.49 Missions thrived and served as commercial centres with paid jobs. Even though, in 1963-64, the Simba rebellion vented the brooding anger of the poorer inhabitants against privileged employees in mission stations, medical care continued to be seen as a desirable development as it provided medical services while continuing to involve an increasing number of Budu medical workers. After former president Mobutu gained power in 1965, the activities of the rebels slowly decreased. The continuing reluctance of forest inhabitants to return to their villages and fields nevertheless resulted in a nationwide drop of agricultural production of 50% (Wilkie 1989:486). During the so-called ‘Zairisation’ foreign traders, mostly of Greek and Lebanese origin, were expelled. In 1976 only a minimum number of traders remained in the country to buy cash crops such as rice and peanuts. In the 1980s, the success of the coffee trade nevertheless affected an area of two hundred kilometres around Isiro, including the Southern area where the Budu live.50 However, as the world market for coffee collapsed in 1989, the only economic resources in the area were related to mineral excavation and other private undertakings. In the absence of a larger market for their products, the activities of the inhabitants were reduced to subsistence farming while traders were limited in the traffic of their goods by the quickly deteriorating roads. Young men started to travel by bike to exchange dried meat or palm oil for dried fish or printed fabric. After the military occupation by the Ugandans in 1998, North Eastern Congo once again became an isolated area with minimal opportunity for the transport of goods, including medication. The increase of malnutrition, disease, HIV infections and related death cases led to a growing interest in witchcraft and traditional healing. After five years of crisis, this situation changed dramatically when, from 1999, the international humanitarian aid organisation MEDAIR, started to organise a network of medical services in this part of the DRC again, reinforcing the positive attitude of most of its inhabitants towards medical services. 51 In summary, the success of a medical approach to well-being was reinforced several times by recurring transitions from extremely negative situations to dramatically improved situations. The positive impact of medical services could be observed each time again during the twentieth century, fostering the emergence of a new genre Budu of medical information. During the same century the deterioration of medical care during several periods was obvious as well. The genre represents rapidly changing cultural conventions, reflected in a dynamic use of multiple genre features in the two cases discussed below.

49 cf. Lyons (1992:31), for map see Likaka 1995:202. 50 Verhaegen cites Mbuluyo Molili (1986): “Dans un rayon de 200 km. autour d’Isiro (la capitale du café), près de 70% des plantations familiales appartiennent à des citadins qui ont ainsi deux résidences, l’une à Isiro, l’autre dans le village (et par conséquent souvent deux femmes”) (Verhaegen 1995:460). The heavy traffic between plantations and Isiro resulted in the maintenance of a fine network of roads in the Budu area, many of them which are now good cycling routes. Van der Poort (1973:236) observes Budu chiefs who own a truck on behalf of their chiefdom. They came to town (Isiro) in the 1970s to sell the community’s coffee. 51 The main author of the ‘microbe’ text (the excerpt with medical information in chapter 7.2.2.6), worked with this organisation in Isiro in 2005, where it has its base in the Uélé districts. Their medical programme was started in 2000 with a pilot project for 27 structures, which has now grown to cover 12 health zones, offering drugs at very low prices at 340 health centers and HIV tests at 42 health clinics. From 2003 onwards the pilot project in Isiro was extended to a large scale medical network in the Oriental Province of the DRC. A malaria prevention programme was also started in 2003 with the aim of distributing 60,000 mosquito nets to pregnant women and children under five years old. The system is run by a non-governmental organisation in close collaboration with the Medair staff providing training and management instructions. After a peace settlement in 2002, the situation improved in general in Congo, apart from in Ituri. The armed combat near the Ugandan border prevents transport to the East and trade with Uganda. Without the network set up by Medair, Isiro and surroundings would be cut off from drug supplies (www.medair.org).

360 8.2 Text 1; about Malnutrition

8.2.0 Explicit Information about Symptoms of Malnutrition

In the following discussion of the Malnutrition Text, conventional medical-information language use is discussed prior to its creative language use. The text relates food avoidances to the accumulation of wealth or, in particular ’chieftaincy’ ïngámá in line 18. The Budu word ïngámá may refer to nonmaterial and to material aspects of ‘(managing) wealth.’ In this text the word is used in its material sense. In the egalitarian village society the accumulation of wealth is considered as an indication of greed. 52 In former days, chiefs were inactive old men who received compensatory gifts and honours from other inhabitants of their village. In these days, however, men have often accumulated wealth before they become inactive, by using money in trade. The word ïngama no longer refers to political power. Money enables individuals to accumulate property for their own interest, in contrast to the interest of the community which the political leaders served.53 Rösller assumes that finally the forced cotton labour in the fifties made an end to the traditional institution of village leadership among the Budu and related people (1998:49). Greed may arouse the jealousy of those who can use witchcraft, as the healer in line 18 seems to assume in this case, interpreting the family’s health problems as related to the accumulation of wealth. The wealthier or more successful members of the community are, the more envy they are likely to arouse. Such persons therefore are considered guilty of ‘provoking witchcraft’ by default. An English translation of the text follows beneath with only its key words in Budu between brackets. See the appendix for the entire Budu text. The words in bold print represent explicit information.

Explicit-presentation features in bold, key terms in grey and listings in italics.

1. (Listen to) the story about a certain man called Mister No-Gain; 2. his wife In-Vain and their six children; they lived in a village in the forest. 3. Mister No-Gain and his wife did a lot of work, more than others: He put out animal traps, 4.They planted fields, they raised animals and chicken, they caught fish. 5. And going to his place, you would find just everything: cooking bananas, manioc, 6.corn cobs, bitter leaf, soya beans, spinach, pumpkin leaves, pineapples, lemons, avocados, eggs, 7. just everything somebody needs feeding a family.

8. Mister No-Gain was a man with a terribly large property. 9. Concerning that particular property, he saved what was on that property, so that he never had to feed his own household when his property was in need. 10. Every day they themselves ate just cassava leaves and roots. And all those other beautiful crops, 11. They just sold that food for money, for he was fond of (the idea) that he would save an enormous amount of money.

12. Now a huge thing God gave him was childbirth. His wife was still breastfeeding a child. 13. The woman would only kill a chicken if a visitor came by. 14. After a while the children began growing and the woman too. They started to develop

52 In chapter 5 section 5.2.4.2 performative language use was discussed with the conclusion that its distinctive features all reflect a positive politeness strategy characteristic for egalitarian societies (in terms of Brown and Levinson 1987). This confirms the observation by Vansina (1995) that patrilocal societies with an organisation in lineages, such as the Budu, tend to be egalitarian, which seems confirmed by Aunger about the Budu in particular (1996:216, with reference to Evans-Pritchard 1971). 53 A possible origin of the ïmbaa institution of village leaders is the need for an organised system guaranteeing care for inactive men who have lost their physical strength. The religious institution of ïmbaa included obligations regarding the first fruit gifts to elderly men and the payment of material fines in case of breaking the social taboos. Some taboos meant that only village elders were allowed to eat warthogs, special parts of elephant meat, python and leopard. Each lineage has specific food items that they are forbidden to consume. Next to these food avoidances, the trangression of other social laws requires a fine to be paid to the village elders, or else the guilty person would fall sick. The fine consisted for example of palm oil, chicken, cooking bananas or an anvil. Only confessions that were combined with such fines could bring healing to sicknesses caused by theft, adultery or the breaking of other social taboos (report by Manzimba Bokwa August 1992).

361 various health problems: 15. All their body members, like their intestines, legs, arms and faces, everything started being swollen. 16. Mister No-Gain told his wife : “Let me go see the healer. 17. For I am ignorant of the origin of such a terrifying matter” (yáka yïtaakisöbá ngïyë yëkö-sï gbanî!) . 18. The healer declared to him : “You are in the process of dying because of the property that you accumulated. Therefore (Ndü ya banî): 19. The children are not to eat : fish, peanuts, eggs, meat or fruit. They will just eat cassava leaves´.

20. It did not take long before both children died just at the same time. 21. Regarding the passing away of that many children in one single period, 22. it had caused all villagers to go through intense and terrifying suffering. (bödya ikoko kisöbá) They kept asking among themselves 23. things like : ‘What actually is the matter (ya-sï tánï) at that household of No-Gain?” 24. “The wife and children in need; what now could be missing in his place?!” 25. While actually only a bad kind of eating disturbed that household of his with sicknesses.

26. Directly after burying the children, the adults of the village gathered the people for a meeting about that particular issue. 27. Therefore they started now to give advice about the particular issues concerning his household, saying the following: 28. “No-Gain, the first counsel is that a woman should recover after a delivery. 29. The second is that particularly your eating habits (dyakaka) should be excellent. 30. Keep eating (dyakaka) food of all kinds and all sorts of various food items 31. as required to fortify your body, for example with the following types of food: 32. meat, fruit, pumpkins, cooking bananas, rice, just everything. 33. The third counsel is that it is not good if you keep seeing unreliable healers. 34. Please go to a person trained in health care, to a nurse or a doctor. 35. Therefore that way a sick person will recover from sickness while they will take care of his sickness indeed along the appropriate way.”

36. When Mr. No-Gain had started to follow the counsel intensely by strictly observing all those things which they had prescribed him, 37. after these things, calmness entered the household, the one of Mr. No-Gain. 38. Then the appearances of those belonging to that household came out beautifully, without them getting seriously sick all the time.

39 The meeting about Mr. No-Gain and his wife In Vain is showing us the importance of food 40. in the life of a person. Therefore, the following question should indeed be considered (kû. banî): “What will we do (Tákïa tánï) to prevent the development of serious diseases? 41. It is by means of eating indeed different sorts and kinds of food on a regular basis.

The text has several listings, printed in italics. Upon four occasions in the story rather long lists of arbitrarily ordered items occur. Line 3/4 lists food-collecting activities; lines 5 to 7 food items, line 19 food avoidances whereas line 32 annuls these food taboos. All the listings concern food, and therefore the main topic of the text seems to be food-related. Even the listing of symptoms of this type of malnutrition in line 15, is related to food deficiency.54 However, it is very atypical for a story that none of the listings contains a key word and that none of the items contributes to the development of the story representing dramatically important information, as will be discussed in a moment. The words in bold print represent features of explicit information. Apart from the third person pronouns55 most of these features represent specifications. Specifications of place are expressed by locative adverbials; specifications of time or manner by temporal adverbials and also by relative temporal clauses with affix or by conditionals or gerunds; specifications of goal by short infinitives; specifications of participants by quantifiers; specifications of manner by the comparative banî. Evaluations of the speaker are expressed by modal auxiliaries and verbal negation; qualifications of the action by adverbs and qualifications of participants by adjectives. The number of specifications and qualifications distinguish the story as typical for medical information. In short the text is thematically

54 This type of malnutrition is caused by a deficiency of protein rather than the absence of food. It is called kwashiorkor. Its symptoms are unfortunately a well-known element from campaigns agains hunger in Africa: swollen bellies and hair that looses its shine while teeth start falling out. 55 used in the lines 2, 15, 22 and 38

362 ordered with four lists of food-related items while it specifies unknown information, qualifying it with expressions such as: ‘terrific’; ‘good’; ‘bad’; ‘serious’. The authors make their intention to explain information in this text clearly recognisable by the use of the second cluster of co-occurrence. If addressees were hesitant in deciding the purpose of this newer genre of transmission of knowledge, any doubts about its communicative intention are removed by the abundance of features of an explicit presentation of information. The words in bold print show the text as having many features of explicit information. Usually forms that specify information co-occur with the absence of other particular forms (see the discussion of the second cluster in chapter 5). The explicit presentation of information is also distinguished by these ‘negative members’ of the cluster. The absence of this fixed set of forms conveys an explicit presentation of information just as much as the presence of its features. Therefore the presence of elements that tend to be absent in explicit information is confusing. In typical medical information there would be no object prefixes, no modal connectives and no vocatives. This text has several object prefixes, while a vocative is used in the council of the village elders: line 28 starts with ‘No-Gain.’ The modal connective ambôgöbö ’actually’ in line 25 seems to be important for the structure of this text (see the glossed text in the appendix). Some features of implicit information can be observed from the translation of the story. Its end is typical for parables and the allegorical names of the main participants characterises some implicit information as well. The final lines of the narration are used in the typical way to give comment, in this case saying that the elders’ advice ‘shows us an example of life-saving food’ nô îsü apanïa ïjangïa yö idyo akö ubéí wö mombí; a statement by which the narrators make their didactic intention explicit, using a verb that corresponds to the genre label apanïa for information in Budu. Although the text has many features of explicit information, the presence of features of implicit information indicate that a secondary message is, at the same time, presented implicitly. Text 1 differs remarkably from most texts marked for an explicit presentation of information. In chapter 7 the conclusion was drawn that texts with explicit information typically explain some general principle behind observed facts. This text presents a sequence of events representative of life in the village. Line 25 relates malnutrition to its symptoms as described in line 15. The possibility of the audience identifying with the situation makes this story suitable as basis for further explanations. The story serves as an introduction to a medical booklet, in which these explanations are developed. The principle behind these observations is only formulated in the conclusion to this introductory text. Finally the frequency of a reversed order of constituents is not typical for the explicit presentation of information, but rather for directive texts. By their object-first constructions several lines draw attention to some salient information; namely the lines 9, 12 and 21. It is highly unusual to find so many focus constructions with reversed constituent order in any text of the researched corpus. Unlike other explicit presentation of information, this text seems to exhibit ‘temporally-connective’ language and directive features that make it rather resemble implicit genres. The text exhibits a contradictory use of features being unusual in the researched corpus.

8.2.1 An embedded Case History in Story 1 and its Presentation of Events

The cohesive devices in text 1 will be discussed prior to a section on the exceptional use of directive language use in this medical information. In addition to a thematic ordering, the story exhibits a chronological development. Its sequences of events are introduced with adverbials as in most texts with temporally-connective presentation. Consider sentence openings in the translation like: “It did not take long;” “directly after” and: “after these things.” These indications of chronology connect presented events as the five occurrences of reported speech connect them too.

363 The quoted key terms repeat thematic material and thereby they also structure the text while connecting its events. The temporally-connective presentation is made clear on the right-hand column of the following presentation of the same text. In this second presentation episodes are indicated based on the use of reported speech, with the assumption that all thematic material (them. Elements) is presented in the first episode and repeated in each following episode. The horizontal lines indicate the borders between three cycles of thematic material, denoted in the text with grey print for key words and for recurrences of reported speech (Rep. Sp.):

Opening The story of Mister No-Gain and his wife In-Vain 1. (Listen to) the story about a certain man called Mister No-Gain; 2.his wife In-Vain and their six children; they lived in a village in the forest. 3. Mister No-Gain and his wife did a lot of work, more the other (villagers), he put out animal traps, Setting 4.They planted fields, they raised animals and chicken, they caught fish. 5. And (if you were) going to his place, you would find just everything: cooking bananas, manioc, 6.corn cobs, bitter leaf, soya beans, spinach, pumpkin leaves, pineapples, lemons, avocados, eggs, 7. just everything somebody needs feeding a family. 8. Mister No-Gain was a man with a terribly large property. 9. Concerning that particular property, he Introduction saved what was on that property, so that he never had to feed his own household when his property was in need. 10. Every day they themselves just ate cassava leaves and roots. And all those other beautiful crops, 11. They just sold that food for money, for he was fond of (the idea) that he would acquire an enormous amount of money. 12. Now a huge thing which God gave him was childbirth. His wife was still breastfeeding a child. 13. Episode 1 The woman would only kill a chicken when a visitor came by. 14. After a while the children began growing and the woman too. They started to develop (various) health problems. 15. All their members, like their intestines, legs, arms and faces, everything started being swollen. 16. Mister No-Gain told his wife : “Let me go see the healer. 17. For I am ignorant where such a terrifying thing could originate”. 1st REP SP. (Yáka yïtaakisöba ngïyë yëkö-sï gbanî!) with them. elements 18. The healer declared to him : “ You are in the process of dying because of the property that you accumulated. If that is how it is, (Ndü ya banî): 19. The children are not to eat fish, peanuts, eggs, meat or fruit. 2nd REP. SP. They will just eat cassava leaves’’. (Batï-dya… bïbï-dya súo) with dramatic clue

20. It did not take long before both children died just at the same time. 21. The passing away of that Episode 2 many children in one single period, 22. caused all the villagers to go through intense and terrifying Repetition them. suffering (bödya ikoko kisöbá). elements 23. They kept asking among themselves things like: ‘‘What actually is the matter (ya-sï tánï) 3rd REP. SP. at that household of No-Gain? 24. The wife and children in need. Now what could be missing in his repeated place?!" clues announce: 25. While actually only a bad kind of eating (dyakaka ) was disturbing that household of his with Climax sicknesses. of the story

26. Directly after burying the children, the adults of the village gathered the people for a meeting about Episode three that particular issue. 27. Therefore they started to give advice now about the issues particularly concerning his household, saying the following: 28. “No-Gain, the first counsel is that a woman should first recover after a delivery. 29. The second is 4th REP. SP. that particularly your eating habits (dyakaka) should be excellent. 30. Keep eating (dyakanakeni madyo) Repeated food of all kinds and all sorts of various food items, 31. as required to fortify your body, like for example reference to with the following food : 32. Meat, fruit, pumpkins, cooking bananas, rice, just everything. 33. The third eating counsel is that it’s not good if you keep seeing unreliable healers. 34. Please go to a person who knows the work of taking care of the body, to a nurse or a doctor. 35. Therefore this way a sick person will recover from sickness since they will take care of his sickness along the appropriate way.

364 36.When Mr. No-Gain had started to strictly follow the counsel by doing all those things which they had Closure prescribed him, 37. after these things, calmness entered the household, the one of Mr. No-Gain. 38. Then the appearances of those belonging to that household came out beautiful without them getting seriously sick all the time. 39. The meeting on Mr. No-Gain and his wife In Vain, is showing us the importance of food (idyo) 40. in Moral Lesson the life of a person. Therefore the following question should be considered (kû.banî): “What will we 5th REP. SP. do (Tákïa tánï) to prevent the development of serious diseases?” 41. It is by means of eating (Dramatic indeed different sorts and kinds of food on a regular basis. clues repeated)

The right-hand margin of the former text indicates its structuring in terms of opening, setting, episodes 1 to 3, closure and moral lesson. Each episode corresponds to a cycle repeating key words, as discussed in the following section. The terms used to label these episodes resemble Labov and Waletzky’s narrative schema framework (1967), where an opening is called ‘abstract’ as it signals the beginning of the story, possibly with a summary; the setting the ‘orientation’ as it orients the listener to the story’s participants and location; the first episode the ‘complicating action’ as it presents the problem of the story; the other episodes the ‘evaluation’ highlighting dramatic information; the closure the ‘resolution’ to the problem and the moral lesson the ‘coda’ including an evaluation signaling the end of the story. This terminology is widespread in its use, e.g. in Lambrou (2003:159). The narrators exploit the use of reported speech in a manner that is not at all typical for medical information. Most medical texts in the researched corpus do not exhibit the use of reported speech. However, as the case history in this text is integrated in a booklet with explicit information, the creative use of reported speech in the introduction to this booklet requires a close examination before it can be interpreted.

8.2.2 Reported Speech

8.2.2.1 Description of Three Cycles of Reported Speech in this Malnutrition Text

Text 1 has five occurrences of reported speech that can be interpreted as three cycles of reported speech. First, these cycles are described, then a functional interpretation of their use follows and finally their exploitation as cohesive devices in a text with explicit information is discussed. The existence of three cycles follows from the recurrence of key words in the text. The three recurring elements are the following: the thematic elements kisöbá and words with the root dya ‘eat.’ Because of their end rhyme, questions with the interrogative particle anî form a series of acoustic signals that occur throughout the text as marker of dramatic information. These elements are indicated in Budu and printed in grey, including the nominalisation dyakaka ‘the repetitious eating’ and the noun idyo with plural madyo ‘food.’ Each time when all three of these key words have been repeated, a cycle is completed, as I will now attempt to explain. In the first quote, the protagonist refers to ‘such a terrible thing,’ in line 14 and 15 while he is telling his wife that he is ignorant of possible causes of the decreased health of their family. He announces his visit to the healer to find out ‘where’ gbanî it comes from in line 18. The first occurrence of reported speech contains the thematic element kisöbá ‘terrifying’ in combination with the first interrogative pronoun on –anî. The second occurrence of speech reports the diagnosis of the healer and his prescriptions. The healer seems to interpret No-Gain’s misfortune as being the result of witchcraft, as can be concluded from the prescribed cure. As soon as he is presented with the question of Mr. No Gain, the healer starts to answer: Ndü ya banî “if this is how it is,” suggesting that he understands the obscure origin of the

365 misfortune, which remains vague. The audience is made aware of the saliency of certain information by the immediate recurring of the sound –anî in the second reported speech. Note the use of the end rhyme of the Budu interrogatives ‘where; how; why; what’ gbanî banî tánï ïmanî occurring in the various quotes in this text. The immediate repetition of the sound –anî signals its function as a dramatic clue in this text; (for a discussion of this convention see chapter 5). This marker of dramatic information emphasizes the obscure origin of Mr. No-Gain’s problems. The verb ‘eat’ is mentioned twice to underline its importance. This emphasis makes clear that the healer regards food taboos as the solution in this threatening situation. The second reported speech completes the first cycle with thematic elements and repeats the dramatic clue –anî. The third occurrence of reported speech opens the second cycle. It summarises village conversations, which represent a reaction to the shocking death of two children of a wealthy family. The villagers’ ongoing question is tánï? “Why” this has happened. Since food seems abundantly present in the household of mister No-Gain, the origin of the problem remains hidden to them. The question represents another interrogative particle: ya sï tánï ‘what actually is the matter?’ It is immediately followed by another interrogative tîa ïmanî ‘now what (‘is missing’)?’ in line 24. All these interrogative particles seem to emphasize the obscure cause of the misfortune of the No-Gain family. These similar questions repeat the shock expressed by the protagonist in line 17, renewing the focus on the problem. In line 22 the idiomatic expression nïdya ikoko (kisöbá) ‘to go through intense suffering’ is used. This idiomatic expression literally means ‘to eat terrifying suffering’. 56 The idiom combines the key words kisöbá ‘terrifying’ and dya ‘to eat.’57 This attributive adjective is used with the noun ikoko ‘grief’ in an idiomatic occurrence with dya ‘to eat (grief).’ The villagers were so affected by malnutrition in their neighborhood that they, almost literally, ate their grief. The recurrence of an adjective, verb root and the interrogative particle confirms the special status of the collocation within the text.58 Furthermore the idiomatic expression is part of a parallelism between lines 17 -19 and line 22. Budu parallel constructions tend to highlight the differences between corresponding constructions. The similarity between the two constructions consists of qualifying something as ‘terrifying’ and of qualifying ‘eating’ with an object. In the first case, the ‘terrifying’ situation triggers the prescription of ‘food’ avoidances, whereas the corresponding ‘terrifying’ grief in line 22 is related to these same ‘food’ avoidances discretely referred to as ‘bad eating habits’ in line 25. The parallel between the two constructions with the adjective kisöbá and the verb root dya ‘to eat’ highlight the diametrically opposed reasoning of the healer and the nurses who tell the case history, while it provides a subtle means to equate the prescribed food avoidances with ‘bad eating habits.’ The answer formulated in the third reported speech is given by the narrators instead of by the healer: tá dyakaka yïtà bïbï ‘Only bad eating habits were ‘disturbing’ the house with sicknesses’:

Ambôgöbö tá dyakaka yï-tà bïbî, While.actually just to.feed CL-ADIM bad 25. While actually only the bad eating habits y-akö-yongo ï-káa ng-ïyë y-ángö nô ba-kábú. IPF3SG-HAB-disturb CL-house DET-REL CL-his ADD CL-sickness were disturbing the household, that one of his with sicknesses.

56 Perhaps ‘to digest hardship’ in English would be a good equivalent. 57 The adjective kisöba ‘terrifying’ developed from the infinitive a-kisö ‘to overflow’ with the noun üba ‘fear.’ 58 In this approach collocations are understood in the sense in which Sinclair (1991:115) defines them as ‘not necessarily adjacent’ and not necessarily limited to a literal pair of words (on p. 170 ‘there is no theoretical restriction to the number of words involved’).

366

Note that the verb yongo ‘to disturb’ can be used as a euphemism for the use of black magic. The authors suggest the cause of the disturbance when they refer to ‘bad eating habits’ in contrast to ‘disturbance’ as euphemism for magic. The original question of the protagonist in the first reported speech is answered anew in this second cycle of the text. For the second time ‘eating’ is presented as the central issue. This time the nominalisation dyakaka ‘eating’ is marked as new information with the marker tá ‘just; nothing but; complete.’ It occurs as the focalised constituent of this sentence by the left dislocation of the predicate tá dyakaka yïtà bïbï ‘only bad eating habits’ were disturbing the household’. In particular this climax line contains the only allusion to witchcraft. The second cycle starts with a recurrence of the particle -anî with the collocation dya ‘to eat’ and adjective kisöbá, in the second episode. The repetition of these three elements signals, according to the conventions for storytelling in Budu, that the climax is near, which seems to be the exposure of the truth in line 25. The narrator uses a modal connective to support the contrast presented between the appearance of witchcraft and the reality of ‘bad eating habits’ behind it.59 The repeated clues announce the climax of the story. As all key words are repeated, the second cycle is complete in line 25, where the climax is presented. The fourth reported speech comes from a council of the village elders and is formulated with a tripartite decree üpanü ‘law.’ This decree represents the antithesis of the healers’ diagnosis and cure: for instead of suggesting a relation of nonmaterial things, such as envy and witchcraft, to misfortune, the advice given in line 28 suggests a relation to the mother’s diet as she is nursing. Instead of prescribing food avoidances, the decree annuls the healer’s food taboos and asks the family to eat everything that their body needs to remain healthy. Although eating is mentioned as the material solution, and a balanced diet seems to be suggested as the central key to a healthy life, this suggestion is underlined by indirect references to speculations regarding witchcraft and birth control.60 Another factor occurs in line 11 where the love of money of the protagonist is mentioned. This factor is not developed in the conclusion. The medical text seems to focus on the prevention of malnutrition and its solution. It nevertheless signals two problems of ‘modern’ life, namely the love of money and the absence of birth control61 representative of dilemmas in urbanised communities.62

59 Use of the modal connective is a-typical for medical information and other expression of explicit information. It is only absolutely predictable for directive communication in reproaches and trickster stories and tends to introduce the exposure of deceit or betrayal. The connective is incidentally used in other genres, while it co- occurs in stories with other cohesive devices (see 7.2.1.1). In particular genres the modal connective functions as the genre marker that signals the unreliable nature of a circumcision partner. Despite the absence of any unreliable friends or stereotypical tricksters in this story, the use of a modal connective at this very moment in the story suggests the exposure of some deceit, or at least a contrast between the appearance of things and their true nature. In this story ‘the observance of food taboos’ is presented as deceit, being no real solution for the misfortune of mister No-Gain. Indications for this interpretation are presented in this section. In line 25 the focalised constituent ‘just the bad eating’ tá dyakaka yïtàbïbî, is followed by the verb yongo ‘to disturb’ as if the habits were a deceiver in person. With the modal connective ambôgöbö ‘in fact’ the narrators indicate that the disturbance is actually not originating with a person, but with ‘just bad eating habits’ that affect the family of Mr. No-Gain. 60 Line 28, refers indirectly to traditional methods of birth control that used to prescribe sexual abstinence for the period when the wife was still nursing a baby. This remains implicit; with the adverbial phrase with sï ‘first’ suggesting an omitted reference to the conception of another child. Furthermore the varied-diet law is followed by a prohibition on visiting ‘deceptive’ healers. The tripartite decree is followed by the immediate reiteration of only the middle part about a balanced diet that plays a central role in the decree. 61 With the virtual absence of contraceptives in North Eastern Congo natural methods, next to sterilisation, remain one of the few measures that families can take for birth control. 62 The researched corpus has one text about the category of old men, who use their bike to travel away from their village community to offer their skills mending things in town. The authors present this as a problem for the village community, since their most experienced men are absent most of the time. They blame the introduction of money for this development. Other often heard complaints about money are the developments in bride price that discourage young people from having a properly arranged marriage, since the price simply is too high (a

367 Finally, in the third episode, the counterpart of the healers’ diagnosis is presented in the form of a decree. This fourth occurrence of reported speech has a further emphasis on eating. This emphasis especially on the verb ‘to eat’ indicates that this speech concerns an antithesis of the healers’ words. The third cycle repeats two key words and varies the third key word with another qualification ‘very sick’ in line 38. The didactic narrators are nurses who take the addressees to the scene of a village meeting to formulate their diagnosis and prescribed cure. This diagnosis is made relevant by the frame of interpretation63 presented by the dramatic sequences of events in the story. That frame is presented through the systematic use of reported speech. Although the use of reported speech tends to characterise implicit communication in storytelling, as discussed in 7.2.1.6, this final quote in the story obviously supports the explicit reference to the relation between malnutrition and a balanced diet. The implicit message of the story remains to be interpreted.

8.2.2.2 An Interpretation of Three Cycles of Reported Speech in this Malnutrition Text

The narrators use the recurrence of reported speech in this medical text to relate eating habits to health issues. The explicit presentation of information in the final quote clarifies the didactic purposes of the narrators with the case history. The dramatic suspense with its climax in line 25 is exploited to prepare the audience for the final quote in lines 40 and 41, giving the impression that all quotes in the story were formulated in preparation of this conclusion, while emphasizing the importance of explicit information in the text. The final quote clarifies that the intention of the text is to explicitly present the principles behind the development of malnutrition. The importance of this information can be presented with narrative prose since the exposure of ‘the culprit’ behind the development of malnutrition leads to dramatic improvements for the protagonists. Without identification the ‘culprit’ can continue its hidden activities undisturbed. The information in line 41 involves the audience in the prevention of malnutrition. A closer look at the language used in line 41 makes it obvious that it implies a transition from the healers’ worldview to the diagnosis of the health workers who wrote the story. The audience is exhorted to follow the latter perspective on malnutrition. In the healer’s perspective malnutrition comes unnoticed in the form of personified misfortune, whereas, in the nurses’ view it can be predicted in case of food deficiencies in the daily diet and prevented by means of a balanced diet. In table 8.B The exposure of the ‘culprit’ that is represented by ‘bad eating habits’ includes formulations that imply a diametrically opposed view on malnutrition.

entire year’s salary, to be paid in material goods such as knives, fabric, tools and pigs). In former days bride prices were paid with about eight anvils. The dynamics of anvil production and exchange apparently were different from business and trade. 63 See Ensink & Sauer for the development of this term in functional linguistics and ethno-linguistics (2003:7).

368

Table 8.B Implicit support of the indicated cause of malnutrition by use of cohesive devices: Correspondences between assumed cause of malnutrition (1st column) and real cause (2nd column):

the external invader the internal problem

3rd vs. 5th Reported Ya sï tánï? ‘What is this in Tákïa tánï? ‘What will we do? speech: the first place?’ (that terrifies us) (to avoid it)

1st vs. 4th reported Yáka yïtàakisöbá yëkö (dyakaka, ngïyë yeno speech: gbanî ’where does this thing yibio ido nögbë). (your eating (agent) come from?’ (owned by addressee) should be very good)

Narrators comment Dyakaka yïtàbïbï We can prevent the development of Line 25 vs. 41: yaköyongo ïkáa ‘bad eating serious diseases. kwesonokíso habits (agent) were disturbing the yïta-bükabükaï household’ (as object of ‘avoiding’)

Implied message: Since the invader came The problem can be identified as a unnoticed there is no control practical issue that can be controlled (hence the abundance of questions reflecting confusion)

The perspective of the traditional healers is summarised in the left-hand column of the above overview, where malnutrition is described as an external invader that is indicated as ‘agent’ since it governs the verb in the first reported speech. The abundance of interrogative pronouns in the first, second and third reported speeches is indicative of the lack of control over this agent. Malnutrition came unnoticed. Therefore it seems difficult to identify ‘what it actually is,’ as the third reported speech suggests.64 The narrators comment in line 25 that it ‘actually’ was only ‘bad eating’ that disturbed the household. In this perspective malnutrition is described as the agent who, as the external invader, arouses the ‘overwhelming fear’ that was mentioned in the first reported speech. The implied message seems to be that this unidentified invader is impossible to control; hence the two surprising cases of death. The right-hand column summarises the presentation of malnutrition as an internal problem and describes it with syntactic objects as something that ‘we,’ including the speaker, can control by observing a varied diet. The ‘eating’ is described with a possessive pronoun as a property of the addressees instead of as a disturbing factor from outside the household. The advice in the fifth quote presents the relationship between malnutrition and eating habits with a causal construction akö ïngbaa, ngïyë yö ‘it is indeed along the road of’ eating habits’, suggesting that the prevention of malnutrition is a concrete goal that can be reached like a destination in travel instructions. The addressees will arrive at this destination “preventing the spread of infectious diseases,” by embracing a varied diet including “all sorts and types of food.” The emphasis on material solutions and on concrete objectives contrasts with the healer’s approach, where malnutrition is seen as an nonmaterial, obscure cause of misfortune that keeps overwhelming the community. A reference to ‘sicknesses’ that can be avoided is described with an attributive adjective,65 in parallel construction with other attributive adjectives.66 By using these corresponding adjectives the narrators return to the problem introduced in

64 This type of malnutrition is not caused by a lack of calory intake and is therefore not necessarily perceived as ‘hunger.’ 65 The meaning of kwesonokíso yïtabükabükaï is: ‘contaminating each other with serious infections’ 66 Compare yáka yïtaakisöba yëkö gbanî ’where does this thing come from?’ in line 17 to dyakaka yïtàbïbï yaköyongo ïkáa ‘bad eating habits were disturbing the household’ in line 25.

369 line 17. This time the question “Where does this come from?” with its focus on obscure origins of malnutrition, is reformulated as: “What can we do about it?” The message implied is that the problem can be handled. This perspective of medical workers is summarised in the right-hand column.

8.2.2.3 Discussion of Three Cycles of Reported Speech in this Malnutrition Text

As in other narrative texts, the use of reported speech supports an implicit message that involves the audience. The contrast between ‘the external invader’ and ‘the internal problem’ is suggested in line 25 and summarised in the concluding reported speech, where acoustic signals emphasize the dramatic importance of the statement. This conclusion is reached by the presentation of an implicit message by means of parallel constructions. In addition to the explicitly presented relation between questions concerning misfortune and eating habits, emphasized by recurrences of verb root dya ‘eat,’ a contrast is presented, as discussed in the previous section. The rhetorical question in the fifth reported speech alludes to an implied contrast between two worldviews. The continued end rhyme suggests that all former recurrences of reported speech were intended to prepare the addressees for the final question of line 41. This final quote summarises the discovery of the contrast and emphasizes its relevance.67 The dramatic tension is used to emphasize the contrast presented in the conclusion. Second, the recurring cycles occur as cohesive devices exploited to impress on the memory of the audience lists of items that, unlike in most stories, are of no dramatic importance. The strict ordering of thematic material in texts with temporally-connective presentation is discussed in appendix 5B and in section 7.2.1.6. This text about malnutrition has several lists of items that exhibit different wording and different concepts. The first list in lines 4 and 5 consists of food-collecting activities such as: to put traps; to plant fields, to raise animals and chickens, to catch fish; the second list in lines 5 and 6 enumerates the food items found in the family’s house: cooking bananas; manioc; corn cobs; bitter leaf; soya beans; spinach; pumpkin leaves; pineapples; lemons; avocados and eggs; the third list is of symptoms of food deficiency resulting in special symptoms in the children and their mother, indicated in the lines 14 and 15; and the fourth list has food taboos. Line 19 mentions that ‘fish, peanuts, eggs, meat or fruit’ are forbidden by the diviner. The only thing in common between the four lists is that all four concern food. The listed items are not similar, their order is not similar and even the concepts can not be compared. They play no role in the dramatic development of this introductory case story; however, their use activates the working memory of any Budu audience that is used to cycles of recurring key items in stories. The addressees may pay attention to the wording and to the order of items until they discover other key words representative of thematic information in this story. The authors make use of the narrative conventions to prepare the addressees for the other texts in the same booklet, where the listed items are developed explicitly. To illustrate the use of similar lists of food-related items in a story where their use contributes to dramatic development, a story about a man-eater is now discussed. The story exploits a recurring list of food-related items as a cohesive device. In contrast to the random order of the lists with food items in text 1, this pact story by Asëmbü Nebondo maintains the order of its listed items upon each recurrence of thematic material in order to build up tension.68 The story describes the discovery of a highly suspect, deserted place in the forest. The spot contains human bones and ‘everything one needs to cook with’ like: lïsasü, umbundo, mukwe, achangbo,lïbügü ‘pans, palm oil, salt, tomatoes, cooking bananas,’ causing all villagers to assume this to be the dwelling place of a so called

67 Although it is formulated as an afterthought to the story, the explicit suggestion that it is worth considering expresses the idea that the dramatic importance of the discovery is relevant for the addressees and not only for the protagonist. The dynamics of such a post-climatic release of important information are of interest. The addressees almost become a third protagonist, who is to choose whether to abide by the decree of the elders with which this booklet of medical information opens its dramatic hyper-story. 68 Recorded on tape 7 text 9.

370 ‘crocodile man’ or man-eater.69 After the protagonist’s wife is captured by a man-eater, she arrives at his place where he shows her ‘all the things he will use to eat her.’ The ‘crocodile man’ is reported to list, with nerve-wrecking precision: Lïsasü la kû aka, umbundo, mukwe, achangbo, matugbulu, ‘pans are indeed here, palm oil, salt, tomatoes, onions’. Fortunately the protagonist watches the scene from his hiding place and he kills the crocodile man with one single arrow, and all villagers come to the dreaded place to finally see with their own eyes the ‘bones, pans and everything he used to eat people with there in the forest’.70 Food items are listed for the dramatic development of this pact story, while they reflect no focus on information. The lists are used to convey the cold-blooded nature of a man-killer without using descriptive qualifications other than suggesting that, apparently, such a person takes the time to season his unusual meals. The different function of the lists with food- related items in both stories clarifies the non-dramatic use of lists in this text conveying health information: the lists form no part of the development of the story of text 1 in themselves, they are only used to activate the memory of the audience,while playing with a narrative convention. In conclusion, dramatic sequences of events in Budu tend to be narrated in cohesive texts. Reported speech is one of the features that express the underlying coherence between events. The occurrences of reported speech were numbered to facilitate references to the recurrences. As discussed in section 7.2.1.6 the first occurrence of reported speech in texts with temporally-connective presentation usually announces thematically important information. In this text the symptoms of malnutrition, referred to with yáka yïtà kisöbá ‘a terrible issue’ are central. The obscurity of the symptoms is emphasized by the repetition of the interrogative particle. With the verb dya ‘eat’ these two elements form the three key words of the story that are repeated in each cycle or episode. In line 18 the protagonist visits a traditional healer because he is frightened by the obscurity of the misfortune that strikes his household, since he does not know ‘from where’ gbanî in the first place ‘such terrible thing arrived.’ The immediate repetition of the acoustic signal occurs in the response of the healer, who starts his diagnosis with the words Ndû ya banî ‘If that is how it is.’ The audience is alerted to the realisation of the climax by the recurrence of particular collocations. In this story the collocation includes three elements, namely the particles on –anï; the use of an adjective in reference to the mysterious topic; and the reference to ‘eating’. These repetitions and variations of thematic material seem to build up suspense about ‘such a terrifying thing.’ The use of a modal connective supports the contrast that also is introduced through parallel formulations. This contrast between ‘such a terrifying’ mystery and ‘bad eating habits’ in the end is exposed as a contrast between appearance and reality. In fact no reason exists for being terrified about obscure forces or external invaders, who in the end are reduced to one internal problem that can be handled.

8.2.3 Allusions to Directive-Performative Communication in this Malnutrition Text

In addition to the use of cohesive devices the story in text 1 also exhibits the use of several forms that , were analysed in section 5.2.3 as features of directive communication, such as a vocative, imperatives, interrogative pronouns and the modal particle –sï.71 The text is not unambiguously directive in its

69 For information about mombi-kandü or kpiri as they are called among the Zande, see Grootaers (1996) and its chapter (5) about this category of supernatural men. Grootaers sees the increase of suspects who are punished for ‘homicide by means of kpirism’ as an indication of the importance of such cultural outlet for dissatisfaction with ‘modernity’ (the other main outlet he describes is the prophetess movement in particular Zande churches). 70These items are maho, lïsasü, nô bayaka babomu ngübabë önïkïya nábö anïdya bombi ínaní anö ïjü. 71 Reversed constituent order is not a distinctive trait but a genre marker of church songs that therefore significantly occurs in one of the genres with most co-occurrence of directive features. In this medical-

371 communication - on the contrary.72 The main text is in the first place non-directive, while straightforward directive communication is embedded in its reported speech. All the same, the reported counsel of the village elders forms the turning point in the misfortune of mister No-Gain and his family. As usual with reported decrees, the reaction is included:

Kû.dhö Angakömû a-pünga kpata-ka Then NAME NPF.3SG-start follow-REP 36. When Mr. No-Gain had started to follow the counsel intensely nö kyana-nakïa ma-panü kû ma-bomu, ng-üka-akê ba-mu-njo. ADD do-REC-REDUP CL-counsel too CL-all DET-REL-ANAP NPF.3PL-OP3SG-give by doing all those things which they had prescribed him, (things calmed down).

Mister No-Gain strictly abides by the rules given by the village elders, so he apparently understood the implications, even without a reported reaction, such as conventionally follows: Oí, nökö kanï ‘Yes, I understood’. Line 36 seems to reinforce the institutional power of the counsel with two verbs with intensifier-affixes expressing the immediate actions of the protagonist in reaction on their authority; while the mapanü ‘counsel’ itself is specified in a relative phrase with a subordinated verb, emphasing these authorities.’73 The entire reference to this counsel from line 28 to 36 forms an allusion to the authoritarian use of language as it occurs in embedded decrees. The authors obviously used this counsel to provide a ‘back up’ authority. The semi-institutional Budu setting for the medical booklet is thereby guaranteed by the authentic mapanü ‘counsel’ of the village elders. However, the directive features in this text represent an emphasis on interaction, while co- occurring with a focus on information. Instead of face-to-face interaction, language is used to draw attention to dramatically important information.74 Distinctions of explicit information analysed in 5.2.2, such as: attributive adjectives, associative constructions, prepositions, and adverbs typically occur in the absence of interaction. This particular co-occurrence incidentally also occurs in the subgenre of work orders, namely moral advice by parents or in pulpit speech by pastors. In addition, the presentation of a binary structure contrasting deceptive healers and knowledgeable nurses represents an allusion to moral advice. The contrast between ‘bad eating habits’ dyakaka yïtà bïbî, and ‘extremely good eating habits’ dyakaka idó nögbë is reminiscent of moral advices, that also includes elaborate references to life examples with contrasting pairs, such as the ‘healer‘ and the ‘nurse,‘ the ‘disturbing´ witch and the ‘eating habits,‘ the ‘food‘ avoidance and the varied diet, the ‘swollen body parts‘ and the ‘beautiful‘ bodies, the ‘terrifying‘ ‘grief‘ and the promised ‘healing.’ Moral advices express directive statements towards the addressee.75 The speakers not only give information, they also expect the addressee to change. The allusion to the directive communication in this text is supported by the occurrence of five modal particles -sï and one–pî in combination with the use of some imperatives and a second person plural pronoun. The co-occurrence of these features is characteristic for work

information text it also expresses directive communication that expresses an appeal to the audience in line 25. Since reversed order is not significantly absent in any of the genres of the researched corpus, it is not considered as a distinctive feature. 72The text has no first and second person singular pronouns and exhibits several negative members of the third cluster distinguishing directive communication, for instance prepositional phrases in abundance, adjectives, adverbs and some quantifiers. 73 This emphasis is indicated by the Subject Prefix that refers with its third plural to ‘the village elders bato tàbasíé bö ïkümbü literally ‘the heads the ones that decide (i.e. the adults) of the village.’ 74 In particular the reversed order and the recurrence of interrogative pronouns underline thematic elements. 75 A statistical test done prior to the main corpus research indicated that the sub-genre of moral advices has a significant occurrence of most directive features. In the final test the sub-genre was counted with the main genre of work orders, obscuring the outspoken characteristics of the few moral advices included in that category.

372 orders in general and in particular for moral advices. The following overview summarises this binary structure, which presents a contrast reminiscent of moral advice:

Table 8.C Text structure provided by the following contrasting pairs: bïbî ‘bad’ idó nögbë ‘very good’ - bad eating of manioc (root and leaves) - very good eating of all available food - the healer ïgbë - the doctor or nurse mütökanaka pö münganga - ‘deceptive healers’ magbë kö pëtanaka - ‘a knowledgeable person in care of the body’ mombí ambïa tëa yö töka ndütü) - is asked, visited or searched - is described to take care of the body, - is reported to prescribe food avoidances - treats each illness in its required way, heals the sick person - the supposed witch (euphemism) yakoyongo ïkáa - the eating habits (dyakaka), ‘bring calmness in the ‘disturbs the household’ household’ dhüdhüa yakumonio akö ïkáa

- the food avoidance (batïdya kömû) - the varied diet (dyakanakeni tá ibomu) - that cause nîkwa mawondi ‘to suffer many illnesses’ - that causes ‘beauty and result in resistance like ‘swollen body parts’ köpüngö nabö apundoo to illnesses’ ndütü yötöa tïakü resulting in the ‘death of several children in one single manjanja, kömû batá ïbô akwesonokíso. period’ bosio tá akö angbíngá mûnganá)

- warning about grief: everybody surrounding the - promise about healing: the sick person malnourished is ‘eating grief’ (babomu bödya ikoko will be healed from his sicknesses kisöbá) (mombí wö kábú áhëa kábú)

A structural feature of moral advices is that contrasts are presented with a binary structure, as the left- and right-hand side of table 8.C represent. ‘Bad eating’ is described as the consumption of only staple foods with an occasional chicken. It is contrasted with a varied diet of various food items that is evaluated as ‘very good.’ The healer is contrasted with doctors or nurses trained in health care. Such persons normally take care of the sick without asking for special favors. In contrast to the healer, who treats virtually every sickness as a problem relating to witchcraft, doctors and nurses have access to specific information about the treatment for various sicknesses. Instead of prescribing food avoidances to block the operation of obscure forces, medical workers have a focused treatment of diagnosed sicknesses. Food avoidances disturb the household just like witchcraft, resulting in swollen body parts and the sudden death of the weakest members of the family. In contrast, the observance of the advised diet of the nurse brings calmness to the entire household as an effect of the resulting physical beauty and developed resistance to illness. Another structural feature of moral advices is the pairing of a warning and a promise in the conclusion to a text. The last line of the above overview contains a warning against the implementation of the bad example and a promise concerning the application of the good example. Promises in moral advices usually end with the idiomatic promise of majïö ‘peace’ or of bühêa ‘salvation; a solution; healing’. This word represents the conclusion to texts in performative genres, as was discussed in section 5.2.6.2 and illustrated in appendix 5E.76 The use of the verb hêa ‘to heal’ triggers an expectation of metaphysical change77 that surpasses the effect of a varied diet on the physical condition of patients. The narrators playfully use this verb hêa ‘to heal,’ which in medical contexts usually refers

76 The performative genres of sermons, decrees, prayers, church songs and circumcision songs tend to end with a blessing, often including the key word bühêa ‘salvation; healing’. 77 Remember that Budu performative genres are used to accomplish changes in a situation where the addressee risks losing ‘face’ (dignity as social person). Performative language is used to address the needs of the audience, such as the problem of ongoing malnutrition in the community and the damaging effect of food taboos in this case.

373 to the physical aspects of well-being. In this case however they use it to allude to its original metaphysical connotations. The medical advice concludes as if the text itself has the power to accomplish healing by its institutional setting. In spoken decrees the performative power is guaranteed by the conventional commitment of the addressees.78 The word hêa ‘heal’ conveys the intended impact of the medical information and the narrators use it to clarify that the impact of their message is not restricted to physical aspects but also extends to factors such as beauty and calmness. Like moral advices, the text ends with a warning and a promise: ’following the bad example results in grief, while an observance of the advice leads to general well-being.’ The structural allusion to moral advice is reinforced by idiomatic vocabulary, which at the same time plays with the suggestion that the text is powerful enough to bring well-being. The authors apparently chose to address the assumptions concerning witchcraft in relation to malnutrition prior to the presentation of explicitly formulated principles of the importance of a varied diet. To communicate effectively, they used allusions to directive communication as illustrated with the binary structure indicated in table 8.C above. The use of allusions in addressing assumptions seems more effective than the immediate presentation of the relevant information relating to a sensitive issue such as witchcraft could ever be.

8.2.4 Conclusion about Creatively-Used Genre Features in Text 1

In summary, the case study in text 1 seems distinguished as explicitly expressed information through its conventional patterns of language use. The information is presented by means of a case history presenting relevant comments on the symptoms of malnutrition. These symptoms are explicitly related to bad eating habits in line 25. Within this story the embedded decree provides the information with authority. The tripartite instructions for the prevention of malnutrition are framed as a counsel of the village elders. All dramatic tension is exploited to underline the information repeated in line 40. As a case history it furthermore illustrates the explained principles with sequences of observed facts. The use of storytelling devices is unusual. Whereas texts with explicit presentation usually have no recurrences of reported speech, this medical case study has five different occurrences of speech. Key words and accoustic signals occurring in the first two quotes are repeated throughout the text. These repetitions and variations highlight the main message with sound effects that are in fact used as mnemonic aids, as in traditional storytelling where the active involvement of the audience is facilitated. The writers of this text exploit this familiar device to emphasize the most important part of their message, while the related implicit message is at the same time conveyed by cohesive devices. The impact of a varied diet is also conveyed by parallelisms and by the use of a modal connective. Eating habits are exposed as a dangerous deceiver, who enters the house to make everybody ‘eat grief’. The use of the connective in this text is innovative, since it is related to the personification of bad eating habits. This personification could only be presented in the framework of a contrast of ‘good’ and ‘bad’, where it contrasts with a person who uses witchcraft. Personification presents the audience with the tangible consequences of ‘eating,’ a varied diet, rather than explaining the operation of an abstract principle. The contrast between ‘good’ and ‘bad’ is an allusion to moral advices with their directive language use, including idiomatic expressions and the final promise, which is in contrast to a warning according to convention. Apart from this moral lesson at the end, the case history conveys its message without explicit remarks, instead using creative allusions to a ‘temporally connective’ presentation of events and directive communication.

78 See the conclusion to appendix 5B, where the information is given that protagonist(s) enter a ‘pact’ or abide by a decree nûkönö when they answer with the traditional response to a decree: Oyi,nûkö kánï ‘Yes, I understood.’ This conventional reaction affirms the performative power of the decree. Other performative genres such as circumcision songs to novices, prayers; blessings and sermons all contribute to the expressed desire for change by their mere use (see section 7.2.6.10).

374 This first text makes several types of allusion in an attempt to convey what cannot be explained and to prove what cannot be observed.79 As Budu medical texts continue to appear, this creative language use may become ‘naturalised’ while developing into a conventional pattern of language use for new genres. More incidences, however, of similar innovative language use would be needed before general statements can be made about the development of this new transmission of knowledge. In the following section a medical speech is examined to illustrate a comparable use of innovative communication.

8.3 Text 2: about Dysentery

A second text with similar creative allusions supporting its implicit message is discussed now. While text 1 was prepared in writing as an introduction to a rysographed booklet of medical information, this text consists of a speech by the Basitande, the main pastor of Ibambi in 1992, who was supervisor of a mission station, including several schools, a maternity clinic and a health centre. In addition to the mode of the text another major difference is the gender of the authors. While the first text was prepared by women, this second text was produced by a man. Despite these differences there are some striking similarities. First, the theme and goal of this speech are comparable with the ones in the former text, discussing the relationship between contaminated water and amoebic dysentery. However, instead of addressing popular assumptions about supernatural causes of this illness, the text addresses some popular assumptions about the ‘magic’ effect of biochemical medicine from the health clinic. Orally consumed medicines are referred to with the Swahili name dawa or with the Budu bütî. In both languages this general reference can be both used for natural medicines from plants and for biochemically produced medicines. Over time Western medicines have been integrated with conventional herbal cures.80 It therefore is not surprising that the users of both types of medicines alike believe in some magic working that is ascribed to the cure. The speaker emphasizes the physical aspects of using boiled water and its importance over manufactured medicines as a cure.81 Note how the thematic information is presented in the first five lines:

Explicit information regarding the development of dysentery as a result of drinking unboiled water Explicit presentation features in bold

1. You, children of mother, listen to the matter, which I want to declare to you, 2. All the time I keep informing you about the following: 3. "It wouldn't be good for you to drink water if it is coming directly from the spring." 4. "Because water taken directly from the spring still normally keeps its creatures." 5. Because, if the rain pours it overflows the ditch and it goes with dirt and on top of that with all kind of creatures into the source.”

Like Text 1, the translation has a large amount of words in bold print. All these words represent forms that were analysed in chapter 5 as features of explicit information: frequently occurring adverbials and conditionals, translated as: ‘if it comes directly from the spring’; ‘if it rains’ and many gerunds, translated

79 In section 7.2.2.5 attributive adjectives were observed to function in a similar way to ‘prove’ the teachers’ acquaintance with observed facts, as they integrate the evaluation of the experienced member of society, which in newer genres with the transmission of knowledge is not always demonstrated in interactive discourse. 80 Tropical biologist Frank Lambrecht, who worked with the medical staff of the Red Cross hospital in Wamba, describes the use of chaulmoogra oil from the hydnocarpus wightiana trees in the treatment of leprosy by means of weekly injections, for which it was prepared with sodium gynocardate or creosote. The fruits of about hundred trees, planted near the centre in Pawa, were collected to obtain the oil-containing seeds. (Lambrecht 1994:61-2) After 1946 this natural medicine was replaced by the bio-chemical promizole treatment from the sulfanilic acid group (op. cit. p.74). 81 See the footnote in the introduction (9) about Fabian’s anthropological analysis of use of the term ‘hygiene’ in colonial Belgian Congo (1990).

375 with: ‘if the rain pours’. Another characteristic feature is the amount of content-words in the text with only a few function words. Several short infinitives occur, specifying goals and mentioned in the translation as ‘to drink’; ‘to boil’; ‘to see.’ Very typical is the co-occurrence of consecutives, verbal negation, translated as: ‘it was not in vain’ and modal auxiliaries, translated as: ‘it should be’; ‘it wouldn’t be good’; ‘they couldn’t find’; ‘it would not fit me’; ‘not able to kill’ with adjectives and adverbs specifying the water quality. Consider the rest of the text: (Italic print for marked borders of case story)

6. I personally drank such water before. When I drank it all the time, my body never calmed down. 7. My intestines cut like HIUH- HIUH- HIUH. 8. So when I went to the doctor, as I talked with him saying: “I sense my guts.” 9. The doctor checked my stool test and then saw a strange creature. 10. After he gave me the medicine for it, I drank (it).

11. On my way home, returning from the doctors (place), 12. I arrived again at that particular brook of the river there, where the [rain in the] eroded ditch kept overflowing its [normal] flow, 13. Upon which I indeed drank again still unboiled water, at that moment I also drank the eggs of yet other worms.

14. Once at home, I was overjoyed while saying: “The worms have surely died because I drank the appropriate medicine!” 15. While actually, just that very day, other worms had entered [my intestines] again afterwards [after drinking the medicine]….

16. After a few days, my intestines cramped together to cut like “CHACKA-CHACKA!!” without me getting any sleep. 17. Then the following day I then went to also challenge the doctor again. I asked the doctor the following: 18. “What do I do now; for my intestines have not yet left me any peace?!” 19. “Because, drinking the medicine, it is as if that particular medicine has not suited me, as if I perhaps drank a medicine,” 20. “that has no power, for it has not been (able) to kill the creatures”.

21. The doctor then at that moment informed me personally about the secret behind this particular issue. 21. The doctor told me: 22. “If you want to calm down [your guts], I ‘ll tell you the following: Stop drinking raw water. 23. From now on, if people draw water, let it first boil, just on the fire place, for when you will make it boil like that, 24.Those creatures that are hidden in the water will die entirely. 25. If you abide by these particular instructions, you will see nothing but calmness in your intestines. 26. I then asked the doctor: “Is that true, doctor?” 27. The doctor told me: “Yes, it is true, if you abide by these particular instructions, you will see nothing but calmness”. 28. Then I myself said: “When you say so, let me just try it out now”.

29. After I heard these instructions of the doctor I started to boil water. 30. The very water that I was drinking every time was water that they were boiling just completely now. 31. Well, so when I started now to drink boiled water I sensed my intestines calm down like WOW!

32. However, the kind of thing that I used to have before: 33. that drinking (this) water, my guts were making cutting motions in me like HIUH- HIUH , I have not felt it any more. 34. The doctors checked other stool(test) again, to look for creatures again, 35.like they had observed before. They never saw them again! 36. “I am informing you of the following: 40. When you and I, all of us, will be stopping the drinking of unboiled water, 41. I personally declare that -To complain about your intestines like I used to do, it is over, for my intestines calmed down completely- [I declare that] 42. You and I, if we precisely follow the instructions that the doctor gave us, 43. these will keep giving us healing,44. as I am regularly telling you. The one who has ears takes notice.

The second noteworthy feature of the Dysentery text is its performative speech. In ten different lines, the speaker or the quoted doctor explicitly announces what he is doing or going to do:

376 Line 1 has: “I want to declare.” Line 2 has: “I keep informing you.” Line 22 has: “I ‘ll tell you.” Line 27 has: “you ‘ll see” Line 28 has: “Let me try it.” Line 36 has: “I am informing you.” Line 41 has: “I personally declare.” Line 42 has: “It’s over!” Line 43 has: “These will keep giving us” Line 44 has: “I am regularly telling you,” and: “you notice.”

The eleven performative statements in this text clarify the intention of the speaker who apparently wants to make certain facts known, while the explicit features in bold print also convey a focus on information.82 The eleven statements also convey the speaker’s confidence of the success of the recommended behaviour if addressees would only try it out for themselves, as the lines 27 and 28 stress and demonstrate. The performative character of the text also is shown in co-occurrences of sixth-cluster forms.83 The use of short infinitives, attributive adjectives and second person forms is ambiguous. Next to its presentation of explicit information and performative language, this text seems to reflect directive and narrative language use.84 Almost no text is explicit and performative at the same time. This text exhibits an ambiguity that is highly unusual in the researched corpus. Although the focus of the text is on information, it contains several forms that were analysed in chapter 5 as distinctions of implicit communication. For the use of these features of implicit information see the glossed text in the appendix.85 These unusual features occur throughout this exhorting speech and not only in the embedded dialogues, although the use of cohesive devices follows from the embedding of a case history between line 6 and line 31. The third interesting feature of the dysentery text is the embedded story with a clearly marked beginning and end that will be discussed now. The italic print in the above overview highlights the fact that in the Budu text the beginning and end of the case story are marked with parallel constructions. The parallel construction consists of several morpho-syntactic categories in correspondence with each other. The corresponding elements in this parallel construction are numbered:

1. a first person form with the verb root nïmwa ‘drink’ with the object mepo ‘water’ 2. a class 6 relative pronoun ng-ükü referring to mepo ‘water’ 3. a past participle construction 4. a class 14 noun büa ‘intestines’ 5. a temporal connective ïyë 6. a verb root in reference to the ‘intestines’ 7. an ideophone expressing sensations of the guts Consider the Budu text for the exploited constructions:

Ïmî nö-nïmwa1 jënê me-po ng-ükü2-nanï mwa-nî.3 Me PF.1SG-drink past CL-water DET- CL-ANAPH drink-PTCPAS. 6. I personally drank such water before.

82 ‘To inform’ is the causative derivation of the verb ‘to know’ in line 2. 83 The speaker exploits idiom; optatives; participle constructions; perfect first person singular forms; long infinitives; habituals; and an oath vocative. 84 Narrative language use is distinguished by a temporally-connective presentation in Budu, see 5.2.1. 85 In typical medical information no oath vocative, no Object Prefixes and no modal particles for exhortation –sï would occur. This text has several object prefixes and exhortative particles, while its opens with an oath vocative. The text furthermore exploits many second person forms that are usually absent in explicit information.

377 Ïyë5, nö-mwo ma-bisi ma-bomu nö-katanö kömû, As NPF.1SG-drink CL-day CL-all NPF.1SG-calm not As I drank it all the time, I didn’t ever calm down. bü-a4 ng-üba bü-sëmî k-ëta6 bö vu vu vu.7 CL-gut DET-CL CL-mine CL-cut like: IDEOPHONE. 7. My intestines cramped like a cutting knife.

The ideophone in line 7 describes the sound of a long knife being swung swiftly through the air, in an iconic reference to the sensation of the cramping guts. The end of the embedded case story is formulated twenty four lines later. It is marked with a sentence including a contrasting ideophone:

Ïyë5 na-pünga tîa nï-mwa1 m-epo ng-ükü2 tà ma-sï-ë3 as HPF.1SG-start now INF.drink CL-water DET-REL ADIM CL-boil-PTCA 31. Well, so when I started now to drink boiled water na-na-na tîa b-üa4 bü-kata-nï6 bö pisi.7 IPF.1SG-OP1SG-see now CL-gut CL-calm-PTCPAS like IDEO and I perceived my intestines calm down like: “Wow”!

The contrasting ideophone is introduced by speech introducer bö ‘that’ like other ideophones. Numbering indicates other recurring morpho-syntactic categories that mark the beginning of the story in lines 6 and 7.86 While line 7 has the verb këta ‘to cut’ describing the sensation of the guts, the outcome of the story is that the intestines have calmed down, as indicated with the verb katana ‘to calm.’ Note how these verb roots with consonants k and t recur in this parallel sentence marking the borders of the embedded case history. Such an emphasized demarcation also draws attention to the embedded nature of the narrative. This narrative is not told on its own merits, to present the events experienced in chronological order to entertain, to captivate or to educate the audience. The speaker obviously wants to stress the utterly serious tone of his performative speech.

8.3.1 Performative Language in this Dysentery Text

8.3.1.1 Use of Ideophones in this Dysentery Text

One reason for the use of onomatopoeic ideophones was discussed in chapter 5. In the analysis of the co-occurrences of cluster five, parallel constructions and onomatopoeic ideophones were identified as characteristics of language use with redundancy that reflects either instantaneous text production or purposely ‘easy’ formulations. In contrast, the parallel construction in this dysentery text seems to reflect

86 The first person form, this time with the main verb nïmwa ‘to drink,’ the object ‘water,’ the relative pronoun of class 6, the participle construction this time being an active form used as attributive adjective with mepo ‘water’, the class 14 noun büa ‘intestines,’ the verb katana ‘to calm down’ in the affirmative, whereas line 6 has a negative form of this verb that refers to the guts. In both lines the temporal connective occurs.

378 an exceptionally careful production of the text.87 Although the ideophone is onomatopoeic in nature, this particular occurrence reflects no redundancy, as will be discussed now.88 The ideophones in the parallelism, being phonologically marked, facilitate the recognition of the other six correspondences. The ideophone itself is emphasized by its repetition in line 32, while it provides the sound effect that supports the speakers’ emphasis on the perceived result of drinking unboiled water. The parallel construction functions to signal the status of the embedded text with easily recognised ideophones that facilitate recognition of the parallelism of two lines that have twenty four lines in between them. The clear signal given by the ideophones in this text contributes to their structuring function. However, many expressions that are, in themselves, rather redundant, are exploited in languages to structure texts, especially if they represent sounds that draw attention. Another reason to use ideophones in particular is its possibility for iconic references to experience. References to experience seem to be important in Budu explanations. The so-called ‘microbes-text’ with medical information, illustrated with an excerpt in section 7.2.2.6, referred to the microscopic observation of microbes to deduce a general principle. Similarly the malnutrition text describes the observable reality with the narrated development of symptoms of this type of malnutrition to facilitate its identification by community members with similar experiences. In this dysentery text the observed reality is referred to with iconic references to the sensations of ‘sick’ guts. The use of the ideophones in text 2 might be perceived as hilarious if one is not aware of the symptoms of amoebic dysentery, being pertinent cramps in the guts in combination with blood and mucus in the stool. As the particular ideophones in this text normally refer to waving knives that crush something, they iconically suggest these two symptoms to be related to each other, while metaphorically alluding to the damage that both amoebas and knives cause to soft skin texture, resulting in blood and mucus. The speaker apparently wants to stress the observed symptoms of amoebic dysentery, which are unfortunately familiar to each addressee. The particular ideophones that are used in this text represent iconic references to the symptoms of dysentery providing a reference to the observable reality as required in support of the teaching. As well the case history contained in this medical speech, it also has an unusual opening. This opening reinforces the impression that the personal story is merely added to provide proof of the validity of the statements made in the first five lines, as it guarantees more explicitly that the recommendations are valid.

8.3.1.2 Oath Formula in Opening of this Dysentery Text

The opening of text 2 represents a typical oath formula:89

Înü b-aná bö î-náaA Uk-éni y-ákaC ng-ïyë na-n-înü a-sig-io. you CL-children CL-of CL-mother, listen- IMP.PL CL- matter DET-CL IPF.1SG-ADD-you to-say-APL 1. You, children of mother, listen to the matter that I have to declare to you,

Na-kïö nï-mb-îa ma-bisi ma-bomuB banî bö IPF.1SG-do INF-inform CL- days CL- all such that 2. All the time I keep informing you about the following:

87 Seven different morpho-syntactic categories could not have been repeated in almost identical order (except for the temporal connective) exactly at the borders of the embedded case story. 88 Remember that onomatopaeic ideophones were interpreted as characteristic feature of spontaneous production in section 7.2.5.6, see for examples the excerpts with animal stories in section 7.2.4.7 89 For an excerpt with embedded guarantees see section 6.4.3.

379

Ya-mbü mû i-dó înü a-nï-mwa m-epo ko-ngw-eniD tá a-lisíni IPF.be-is-NEGIR not CL- good you to-INF-drink CL-water CL-come- COND just from-spring 3. "It wouldn't be good for you to drink water if it is coming directly from the spring."

dhö m-epo ng-üka ba-kyö-kü-tüka tá a-lisíni ka-kï(ö)kïa nô ba-tötö, For CL-water DET-CL IPF.3PL-HAB-OP3SG-draw just from-spring CL.IPF-HAB-remainADD CL-creatures 4. "Because water taken directly from the spring keeps its creatures."

dhö ü-gbáa wo-ney-eniD mu-hingii wa-töpa. for CL-pouring.rain CL-pour-GERUND CL-ditch IPF.3SG-flow 5. Because with pouring rain, the erosion ditch overflows.

Ma-kaku nô ba-tötö kû ba-bomu wö-sa ná-bô akö ï-kö. CL-dirt ADD CL-creature too CL-all PF.3SG.go ADD-them at CL-source It flows with dirt and, on top of that, with all kinds of creatures into the source.

The first five lines of the dysentery text contain the four elements that characterise guarantees, indicated with lettering in correspondence to the discussion in chapter 6. Letter A indicates the oath vocative Inu baná bö înáa ‘You, children of mother.’ The speaker addresses the audience as if they were the children of his own mother, although, as the main pastor speaking to a large parish, it is not likely that he is only addressing his siblings.90 The idiomatic vocative in line 1 is usually followed by information that is ‘sworn’ true in the presence of people that frequently interact with the speaker and thereby are able to verify it for themselves. Despite the use of an oath-formula in the first two lines, the speaker indicates that he intends to inform mbîa the audience in line 3. The allusion to an oath suggests the reliability of the statements that follow the opening.91 By swearing an oath, the speaker personally guarantees the validity of his statements. He is prepared to take the blame for any negative outcomes that might arise from people following his advic, as he is convinced there won’t be any. In the researched corpus the use of an oath in one case nearly devastates a new marriage92 and in another case it reverses a death sentence.93 In this dysentery text the oath vocative clarifies the speakers’ intention to convince his audience of the announced information. In fact this text is a recommendation. This intention can also be observed from the repeated emphasis on truth in lines 26 and 27 of the story (‘is that true? Yes it is true’), used to convince the audience. As well as the oath vocative, three other elements of oaths or guarantees were mentioned in chapter 6. The four are repeated here for expository convenience, with the same lettering.

90 Original openings for oath swearings addressed the ‘siblings,’ which can also be referred to as bamanye. In the traditional polygamous household, most siblings are children of the same father but only a few children have the same mother. Although still associated with the intimacy of this original address, the oath vocative no longer refers to a restricted group of siblings. It developed a more general sense guaranteeing the truth value of a statement. Similarly the address înáa ‘mother’ is used to address any woman in a polite way, see appendix 5. 91 The idiomatic vocative could also be interpreted as variation on the Swahili address to church congregations ‘wandugu’ ‘brothers and sisters,’ however, when used in Budu church songs the idiomatic vocative invariably precedes solemn declarations. Even in Swahili similar appeals to siblings are used in political cartoons (mutoto wa mama) to satirically mimic the language of unreliable politicians in caricature. This seems to suggest that the use of the expression in guarantees is more widespread than in Budu only. 92 Text 1 on tape 7 about Agbamütaa. 93 Text 3 on tape 7.

380 Table 8.D: Formal similarities between the usages of the oath formula:

A. special vocative înü b-aná bö î-náa ‘children of my mother’ for the witnesses:

B. present state of Pëpë ta ïmî NAME akê na-öö aka ‘Personally just NAME, as I am here, now’/ the speaker bö ‘As I am standing here, now,

Or: akê ïmî nö-maa-öö aka bö C. explicit reference Yáka ngïyë ïmî akë ‘The word, which I myself here…’/ to language: Ïmî na nô yáka, ‘I have something to say’

D. reference to other Pëï ngïyakê ïmî ‘The moment before I…/ if I ever obtain’ moment in time: Nosikeni sinani

Line B of table 8.D denotes some formulations that acknowledge the state of the speaker in each oath swearing. 94 These formulations may vary, while first singular present tense verbs with temporal affixes -öö are characteristic of such acknowledgements. In the oath formula in Text 2 the state of the speaker is acknowledged with auxiliary kïö ‘to do’ in line 2, in combination the temporal adverbial ‘all the time.’ Line C denotes another element that recurs in oath formulations, concerning an explicit reference to verbal statements or ‘words’ yáka, as in the dysentery text. Line D denotes the last element that characterises oath formulae, being references to the future. Oath swearers tend to emphasize the present as was denoted with B while they also refer to the future or to virtual

94 The present state of the speaker is indicated with a construction that affirms the moment of utterance itself while marking the occasion. Next to imprinting the memory of the witnesses with this utterance, oaths also seem to express the psychological effect of a crisis on speakers as they are registering every detail of the situation of an utterance. It therefore is not surprising that this dramatic effect is exploited in storytelling (trickster stories) to build up suspense. Creative use of the oath formula is a well known cohesive device in trickster stories, where it is used as embedded genre (put in the mouth of somebody else) to portray the trickster as a cunning and shameless liar. Consider for example lines 1 and 2 from story 8 on tape 7 by Ndösö Mubhuma:

Hii ÎnüA b-oí b-üsëmï, a-na-kï-eni baka tá nô ï-kyëmüC y-ö ï-tá-ïdy-ë. Hey, you CL-woman CL-mine to-OP1SG-do-COND POLITE just ADD CL-thing CL-of CL-ADI-eat-PTC 1. You women of mine! If it pleases you to make me something to be eat,

Nö-sa-ööB íyaní tá bö a-kwa-ë. Nö-na-jaba ndütü, PF.1SG-survive-RAF here just like to-sleep-PTC IPF.2PL-OP1SG-wash body 2. as I passed the day here just asleep. You wash my body, ng-ïyë ya-fa i-supu kû ïjënëD. DET-CL NPF.CL-catch CL-ashes too before which in the meantime has collected a lot of ashes.

These lines present a deceitful guarantee that only alludes to an oath formula with its similar formulations, as indicated with superscript lettering in correspondance with the overview in the main text. Note the vocative with the letter A, not being an oath vocative, while instead of yaka ‘thing; matter; word’ it makes use of the synonym ïkyëmü ‘thing; matter; word,’ which also may occur in oath formulae in that slot. In line 2 a certain emphasis is expressed on the state of the trickster, describing details like his being covered with ashes of the fire of the house next to which he spent the day. As in oath formulae, the speaker acknowledges his present state using a temporal affix –öö. The passive participle construction suggests that the speaker is too sick to even shake off ashes that descended on his body while he slept, as his reference to the past daytime at the end of line 2 seems to affirm. The excerpt is an example of the effective use of a solemn statement that resembles the oath guarantee. The author put convincing language in the mouth of trickster and describes how Sodu’s wives start to wash and feed him immediately.

381 moments in time with conditionals or relative sentences with temporal affixes. In Text 2 the opening is followed by several references to specific moments in time. It has a conditional referring to bad circumstances for obtaining clean water from the source. This general reference refers to another moment in time. In Text 2 the oath formulation is not embedded as it is in some church songs to reinforce the impact of a statement or in stories where narrators exploit the oath formula to portray characters as liars or as persons who exaggerate. The language used in lines 1 to 5 of text 2 is representative of a performative statement which has the effect of committing to the recommended truth. All the same, the statements in the lines 3 to 5 are formulated in an explicit manner, focusing on technical details of water-source contamination. They specify the conditions under which addressees are to abstain from drinking source water. This general reference is typical for theoretical expositions with explicitly presented information as these tend to reflect a certain independence of the place and time of speaking.95 The references to the observable reality provide theoretical knowledge in the most accessible form, as seems preferred in the transmission of knowledge in egalitarian societies like the Budu, where the cherished solidarity could be threatened by single persons claiming a monopoly on knowledge or power.96 The information in lines 3 to 5 are formulated in an abstract way. From the perspective of the genres used in Western schooling systems its relevance seems provided by rational explanations of cause and effect: “Source water should not be used as drinking water, because untreated water tends to keep its creatures.” The cause of the contamination is formulated in line 5: “With pouring rain the erosion ditch overflows. The rain goes with dirt and takes creatures with it to the source.” With tropical rain storms for nine months a year, erosion indeed seems to be an important factor in water contamination. However, in the conventional Budu style of transmitting knowledge, information needs to be proved by some experience or otherwise it seems irrelevant or even unreliable. From that perspective, lines 3 to 5 contain no guarantee of the relevance of statements about dirt flowing in the source: it depends on the listeners whether they object to a bit of dirt in their drinking water or not. Although the use of performative language in lines 1 to 5 sounds ominous enough with its obscure reference to the consequences of breaking the ‘clean water oath,’ these consequences are not made explicit. Therefore in the text following this solemn declaration the speaker ensures a thorough comprehension of the main message that is summarised in line 3 by relaying his own experience with amoebic dysentery.97 In the case history the speaker does not refer to any theoretical knowledge; he displays an acquaintance with the facts, which, in the frame of this explicit text, fill the same role as observed actions in a demonstration of practical skills.

8.3.2 An Embedded Case History and its Presentation of Events in Text 2

The embedded personal story will be discussed now in the light of its framing, using explicit information as the main communicative dimension that is indicated in line 3 as ‘to inform.’ In the following presentation of the dysentery text, the key words are printed in grey and the recurrences of reported speech are numbered in the right-hand margin:

95 Or in other words one could say of the context of production shared by addressees and speaker. 96 See the discussion of performative language as a politeness strategy expressing solidarity-face in section 5.2.4. 97The presentation of a personal case history in this explicit presentation about amboebic dysentery illustrates that personal experience often is provided as proof of the validity of what somebody ‘teaches’; a conclusion to the qualtitative analysis of thirty Budu texts.

382

The story of pastor Basitande-Juna and the secret of the doctor (Opening and Closure to the text are printed between brackets)

(1. You, children of mother, listen to the matter, that I want to declare to you, 2. All the time I keep Opening informing you about the following: 1st REP. SP. 3. "It wouldn't be good for you to drink water if it is coming directly from the spring." 4. "Because water OF THE TEXT taken directly from the spring normally keeps its creatures." 5. Because, with pouring rain it overflows the with thematic ditch, and the dirt with all kinds of creatures goes into the source.”) elements

6. I personally drank such water before. When I drank it all the time, I didn’t (ever) calm down. 7. My Setting intestines cut like HIUH- HIUH- HIUH.

8. So when I went to the doctor, as I talked with him saying: “I sense my guts,” Introduction 9. The doctor checked my stool test and then saw a strange creature. 10. After he gave me the medicine 1st REP. SP. for it, I drank (it). with them. el. 11. On my way home returning from the doctors (place), 12. I arrived again at that particular brook of the Episode 1 river at the place, where the [rain in the] eroded ditch kept overflowing its [normal] flow, 13. upon which I again indeed drank yet unboiled water, at that moment I also drank the eggs of yet other worms. 14. Once Repetition at home, I was overjoyed while saying: thematic “The worms have died because I did drink the medicine for it!” elements 15. While actually, just that very day, other worms had entered (my intestines) again afterwards (after 2nd REP. SP. drinking the medicine)…. with dram. clue

16. After a few days, my intestines cramped together to cut “CHACKA-CHACKA!!” without me getting any Episode 2 sleep. 17. The following day I went to also challenge the doctor again. I asked the doctor the following: 18. “What do I do now; For my intestines have not yet left me any peace?!” 19. 3rd REP. SP. “Because, drinking the medicine, it is as if that particular medicine has not suited me, as if I perhaps drank repeated a medicine,” 20. “without any power, for it has not been (able) to kill the creatures.” clues announce:

21. At that moment the doctor informed me personally about the secret behind this particular issue. 21. Episode 3 The doctor told me: Climax 22. “If you want to calm down (your guts), I will tell you the following: Stop drinking raw water. 23. From 4th REP. SP. now on, if people draw water, let it first boil, just on the fire place, for when you will make it boil like that, 24.The particular creatures that are hidden in the water, will die entirely. 25. If you abide by these particular instructions, you will see nothing but calmness in your intestines. 26. I asked the doctor then: “Is that true, doctor?” 27. The doctor told me: “Yes, it is true, if you abide by these particular instructions, you will see nothing but calmness”. 28. Then I myself said: “When you say so, let me just try it out now”.

29. When I heard these instructions of the doctor I started to boil water. 30. The very water that I was Episode 4 drinking every time was water that they were boiling just completely now. 31. Well, so I started now to drink boiled water and I did sense my intestines calm down like WOW!

32. Again the kind of thing that I used to have before: 33. that drinking (this) water, my guts were making Closure cutting motions in me like HIUH- HIUH , I have not felt it any more. 34. Doctors have looked at another stool(test) in the mean time, to look for creatures again, 35.like at those they had seen in mine before. They have not ever seen those again!

(36. “I am informing you of the following: Moral Lesson 40. When you and I, all of us, will be stopping the drinking of unboiled water, 41. I personally declare: 6th REP. SP. 42. “To complain about your intestines like I used to do, that this is over with. For my intestines calmed (Dram. clues down completely- these recommendations continue to bring us healing indeed, as 44. I am regularly repeated) telling you. The one who has ears, you notice this.”

383 8.3.2.1 Description of Six Cycles of Reported Speech in this Dystentery Text

The repetition of key words in this text is striking. According to narrative convention in Budu, events are presented in a temporally-connective manner, key words providing the skeleton of the text in combination with recurrences of reported speech. By using reported speech certain key words are marked as thematic information and other words as acoustic signals of dramatic developments. The dysentery text seems to display as many as six cycles with its four episodes; a start and a closing paragraph. Table8.E indicates the ordering of key words in each paragraph, denoted with vertical numbering in each column: Table 8.E Parallel elements in the episodes of case story two, order indicated by vertical numbering

Setting Introduction Episode 1 Episode 2 Episode 3 Episode 4 closure 0 doctors visit 0 home from 0 doctors visit 0 Doctors law 0 upon doc’s law See 3 doctor want calm guts? 1 Drank 1 drank water 1 Don’t drink 1 drink boiled 1 when I drank raw (water) raw water! water 2x water (drink boil drinking water) water!

Guts ‘cut’ 1 guts hurt ---- See 5 1 guts not 2 guts will be 2 guts are calm 2 my guts used to calm calm 3x hurt

(2. 2 creature 2 ‘creatures 2 creatures not 3 creatures in ------3. doctors see no creatures exposed died!’ dead water more creatures 3x 2x) will die 3 drank 3 drank 3 drank medicine medicine medicine 4 drank creatures 2x 5 they ‘entered’ [the guts] 1st CYCLE THEMATIC 2ND CYCLE 3rd CYCLE 4th CYCLE 5th CYCLE 6th CYCLE MATERIAL

The first reported speech of the text contains key words that occur prior to the embedded story, announcing its thematic elements in an unconventional way.98 Being not part of the story, they are printed between brackets. The saliency of these key words is indicated by their occurrence in the first performative statement where the speaker quotes himself introduced with “I am declaring that, I keep informing you that.” These key words form the cyclical recurrence of thematic material, as the introduction confirms by repeating the elements ‘drink;’ ‘guts’ and ‘creatures.’ The first cycle of thematic material was interpreted to include the reference to the doctor and his medicine.99 So the setting, introduction and opening represent the first cycle, episode two the third cycle, etc. The closure represents the sixth cycle of thematic material. The cycles are indicated with lines in the translated text above. Since references to the doctor occur in the setting of most episodes they were numbered ‘zero’. The verb root mwa ‘drink’ is mentioned in collocation with ‘water’ in most paragraphs. All these occurrences have the number ‘1,’ the drinking of water being the first thing mentioned in the opening of the text by means of the verb nïmwa ‘to drink.’ This key word is repeated with ‘raw water’, ‘boiled

98 Normally the first reported speech of the story announces the themactical material or key words, see 7.2.1.6. 99 In the discussion of the excerpt in 7.2.1.6 and in appendix 5B the first cycle is considered as ‘completed’ if the repetition of particular salient elements has been observed. This repetition indicates the dramatic importance of these elements to the development of the story.

384 water’ and with ‘medicine’. The columns with the introduction and with episode two exhibit no reference to this ‘drinking of water,’ while episode one mentions the contrast between ‘the drinking of medicine’ and ‘the drinking of untreated water.’ The columns in table 8.E above display the elements of each paragraph vertically. While the number of elements varies in each cycle, depending on the length of the episode, the elements are mentioned in the same order each time in the story. This is indicated in the table by putting the same element on the same line across columns, to facilitate comparisons between the paragraphs. The strict order of key elements that is maintained throughout the text has two exceptions, occurring in episode one without reference to ‘guts’ and in the closure with a postponed reference to the ‘doctor.’ These exceptions are indicated with references to other ‘slots’ where these key words are either suggested ‘see 5,’ or even mentioned ‘see 3:’ in episode one the guts are only suggested in the elliptic use of the verb ‘to enter’, mentioned in the fifth slot. The omission of ‘guts’ is significant. It emphasizes the quieting effect of the biochemical medicine on the guts. In the closing episode the reference to doctors is postponed and occurs in the plural in a summary in the end. Having shown the cyclical presentation of the thematic material, the other elements are now discussed. The second thematic element in the cyclical presentation of this text is the ‘creatures.’ They are mentioned twice in the opening of the text, their reference occurs in the introductory paragraph, in episode one and in episode two. Various words are used to refer to ‘amoebas’ that cause dysentery: 100 batütü ‘animals; insects;’ müsöngôô ‘‘creatures’; ‘long worms.’ In the introduction of the story the creatures are observed in a stool test. Unlike in the ‘microbe text’ in section 7.2.2.6, where this observation is emphasized, here the observation is not emphasized. The third thematic element is ‘medicine.’ In the introduction to the story and in the episodes one and two the ‘drinking’ of a cure against amoebic dysentery is mentioned as a third element: medicine. Its omission in the second half of the text is significant, for the emphasis the speaker seems to give is to independence from biochemical ‘medicine’, at least for the treatment of amoebic dysentery. The ‘intestines’ occur in almost every episode; while the elliptic use of the verb kumonio ‘to enter’ in the first episode implies the intestines. The working of the intestines is developed in the entire text with the use of various verbs, such as dhüdhûa; katana ‘to calm down’, këta ‘to cut; to bite; to sting’ or, referring to the sensations of its owner nükana ‘to feel’ or ‘ache’. Two additional expressions concerning the guts are mentioned as an afterthought when the story is finished. They were left out from the former overview since they are used only in line 42.101

8.3.2.2 Interpretation of these Six Cycles of Reported Speech in this Dystentery Text

The two elements ‘drink’ and ‘creatures’ occur prior to the story and are repeated immediately in the setting, marking them as thematic material.102 In contrast to the opening of the text, the first reported speech of the story is very short: nanükana büa ‘I sense my guts.’ It contains the third key word ‘guts.’ A comparison with the rest of the text makes clear that the narrator indeed presents these three words as thematic material: ‘drinking (water)’; ‘creatures’; and ‘guts’ (in grey print in the table under 8.3.2). The notions ‘creatures’ and ‘drinking’ present information concerning amoebas in drinking water,

100 This general word for animals is also used to refer to ‘hedgehogs’ for example. 101 One is Hubo maa aka bö angobio ’complaining about guts is over.’ and the other: maa kanïdhüdhüa- sï tá bö dhüü.’my guts have calmed down just like ‘smooth!’ The (class 6) plural in this final comment replaces the (class 14) singular noun of the earlier references to the guts. Both nouns with the root –a are used in daily speech to refer to the ‘belly; guts; intestines.’ Probably the author wants to emphasize that his entire abdomen is affected by the treatment of water. Similarly the reference to the doctor occurs in the plural in the closing paragraph (included in the overview), as if to make the personal experience more general in a recommended application of the observed treatment. 102 For the discussion of this convention see 7.2.1.6 and appendix 5.B.

385 whereas the notion of ‘guts’ is used in support of this information with observations from personal experience. In the cyclical presentation denoted in the overview the first two elements are mentioned in a fixed order. The speaker seems to have exploited the conventional presentation of thematic elements in strictly repeated cycles in this case study. The fixed order of key words in each cycle with the omitted reference to ‘intestines’ in the first episode draws attention to the activities in his intestines. Similarly the omission of ‘creatures’ in the fourth episode draws attention to the absence of the finally eradicated amoebas, indicated with a dotted line in the former overview. Several aspects of the language that is used in the third episode, underline the dramatic impact of the presented information. It contains more thematic elements than other episodes and is framed by a marked setting suggesting a new episode, although the dialogue continues without change of scene. These combined aspects frame the words of the doctor as marked information. The vocabulary with reference to the revelation of an idhimi ‘secret’ is special. In contrast to dramatic actions in a story that often cause the tempo to slow down, this climax only consists of ‘a secret’ being revealed, thereby emphasizing the role of the doctor as professional ‘revealer’ of secrets, possibly in an attempt to draw a parallel between the healer with his professional ‘revelations’ and the medical doctor. Another device marking the dramatic importance of this passage is the use of word games. The verb root mwa ‘to drink’ collocates with the auxiliary sïa ‘to stop’ in the opening of the text in the expression that is translated with: ‘stop drinking water that comes from the source!’ In the third episode this collocation is repeated with a different tone for the auxiliary sîa ‘to boil.’ This word game results in a double advice: ‘stop drinking unboiled water; boil drinking water.’ Sïa ‘to stop’ is a minimal tone pair with the verb sîa ‘to prepare food; to boil; to cook.’ Instead of using the synonym sooko ‘to cook’ the speaker seems to have preferred a homophone, emphasizing an important change of perspective. The negative advice of ‘stop drinking water!’ becomes a positive advice to ‘’boil drinking water!” Similarly the cure for amoebic dysentery is replaced by a method that kills the creature while it is still in the water, preventing the development of dysentery almost literally ‘at the source.’ Another thematic word that is emphasized with a word game is the verb root mwa ‘to drink.’ Its frequent use by the doctor seems to reflect his attempts to direct the focus of the patient towards the treatment of drinking water, instead of on biochemical solutions. This attempt is supported by the two different objects that the speaker uses with the verb root mwa ‘to drink.’ In the first half of the text the verb is used with ‘medicine’ in the collocation ‘to drink medicine’ and in the second half of the text the collocation ‘to drink boiled water’ is used. The speaker thereby parallels ‘water’ with ‘medicine’ suggesting that boiled water is a more effective ‘medicine’ for amoebic dysentery. A minor detail of the language use in this episode is that the speaker uses verbs like dhüdhûa ‘to calm’ to describe the effect on the gut while in other episodes katana ‘to calm’ is used. This results in the effect that the use of the pair këta ‘to cut’ katana ‘to calm’ signals the beginning and the ending of the story, as was discussed before. An additional emphasis on the dramatic importance of the information in the third episode is its repetition in the summary that immediately follows in the fourth episode. The narrator concludes his story with a reference to other stool tests proving the success of the doctor’s advice. In this summary, the speaker uses a focus construction that is highly unusual, partly because of its double occurrence of participle constructions. Consider line 30:

Ndû ïmî na-kö ü-panü ng-üwa w-ö mü-nganga When I NPF1SG-hear CL-law DET-REL CL-of CL-doctor 29. When I heard these instructions of the doctor

386 nö-pünga tîa nï-sîa m-epo. CONS.1SG-start now INF-boil CL-water I consequently started to boil water,

M-epo ng-üka-kê na-kyö mwën-î ma-bisi ma-bomu CL-water DET-REL-ANAPH NPF.1SG-do drink-PTCPAS CL-day CL-all 30. the very water that I have been drinking every time was water

Ba-kö-sîa títa sîa-nî. 3PL-HAB-boil just.now boil-PTCPAS that they were boiling just completely now.

Ïyë,na-pünga tîa nï-mwa m-epo ng-ükü tà ma-sî-ê Well, NPF.1SG-start now INF.drink CL-water DET-REL ADIM CL-boil-PTCA and 31. As I started now to drink boiled water nanana tîa b-üa bü-kata-nî bö pisi. IPF.1SG-see now CL-gut CL-calm-PTCPAS like IDEOPH and I did sense my intestines calm down like Wow!

The secret cure announced in line 21 is boiled in a kettle on the fire, and is reported as being effective in line 31. The method of ‘boiling drinking water’ in order to kill intestinal parasites is emphasized by the underlined focus construction in line 30. The normal SVO sentence order is reversed giving an Object (water) Verb (they boiled it completely) construction. Such reversed order characterises face-to-face interaction,103 for instance in demonstrations, when the speaker is pointing at a focalised object. In this focalised construction no such reason for fronting the ‘water’-constituent is present, it seems to merely highlight the information that is most important in this story: ‘drinking water should be boiled.’ Line 30 with its long focus construction has two participle verb forms. One occurs in its focus construction mwënî following an auxiliary, and one is the reduplication of the main verb sîanï. The double occurrence of these past participles contributes to the emphasis expressed. It also contrasts with the first-time occurrence of the attributive use of the verb mwa ‘to drink’ with water in the adjectival construction: ‘the water, which I used to drink’ and ‘the water, which they boil.’ From this point in the speech ‘water’ itself becomes the more important part of the collocation. The ‘drinking’ recurs as attributive information with the object ‘water’ as topic, enabling a focus on the different verbs used with the object ‘drinking water,’ while their homophony alerts the audience to this focus. The solution presented in the text mainly is sïa ‘to leave’ unboiled water and sîa ‘to boil’ drinking water. Instead of the theme of ‘drinking,’ the text in the second half focuses on ‘water,’ with drinking only as attributive. The effect of the acoustic signals in the dysentery text is summarised in the following overview:

103Object first constructions occur significantly in party songs and church songs, while they are absent in genealogies.

387 Table 8.F Acoustic signals in text 2.

Drink MWA with different objects BUA Guts + verbs + sounds Opening 1 It is not good anïmwa mepo ‘to drink water’

Setting nönëmwa jënê mepo Nökatanö kömü Büa këta bö vu vu I did drink such water before ‘I did not calm down’ vu and when I drank it ‘Gut cut like a knife’

Intro 2 Nötömwa mepo/ bütî 3 Nanükana büa I drank water / medicine guts hurt Episode 1 Nömwö bütî mwanî/ nömwö mïkïï yö müsöngöö 3 drank medicine /4 I drank the eggs of amoebas

Episode 2 Naköanïmwa bütî andö këta kïï kïï kïï nömwasï bütî Büa- cut like a crushing movement drank medicine 2x Let me drink another medicine Guts

Episode 3 sïa nïmwa mepo katana? 2 Don’t drink raw water Want calm guts? Episode 4 Nïsîa mepo mepo ngükakê bükatanî nakyö mwënî büa guts are calmed down I boil water, the water that I drink bö pisi bakösîa títa sîanî mepo büa like silence ngükü tü masîê They boil it now completely Conclusion tösïeni nïmwa mepo Hubo maa aka maa kanïdhüdhüa-sï if we stop drinking raw water we will bö y-angobio. tá bö dhüü. continue to restore Complaining about My guts have calmed down just guts is ‘not done’ like ‘wow!’

8.3.2.3 Discussion of these Six Cycles of Reported Speech in this Dysentery Text

The use of reported speech in combination with acoustic clues is used by convention for the presentation of events that are temporally connected in Budu. In this text it is exploited in an unconventional way underlining the explicit presentation of unknown information. In combination with the recurrences of reported speech, homophones provide a frame enabling listeners to interpret important dramatic developments.104 In the case history the dramatic focus is on the solution for intestinal cramps, as the use of acoustic clues in the text conveys.

104 Word games with homophones do not represent incidental jokes by particular Budu speakers and are not restricted to particular topics. Text-structuring homophones represent a Budu cohesive device that can be compared to cross-cultural audiovisual communication of directive texts. The similarity between the cohesive devices under discussion and techniques developed cross-culturally for instance in commercial advertising is striking. Using homophones for acoustic clues seems to be effective to help the audience remember the main

388 The first column in the above overview (table 8.F) indicates the speakers’ clear transition from focusing on ‘drinking medicine’ to ‘boiling drinking water.’ This transition can be observed from the emphasized key words and from the use of acoustic signals throughout the text. The thematic verb ‘to drink’ is crucial in addressing popular assumptions regarding the effects of biochemical medicines. In the first half of the text this verb is used several times with the object ‘water’ and a few times with the object ‘amoebas’ and ‘medicine’. Most addressees probably expect an almost magic result from medicines they ‘drink,’ as the Budu idiom formulates it, whereas most of them seem unaware of the possibility that polluted water immediately annuls this result. The repeated use of one verb with various objects seems to draw the audience’s attention to fact that ‘drinking’ may involve other liquids that reach the intestines. It prepares the audience for the discovery in line 15 that actually the polluted water may cause the amoebas to enter the guts once again, even after the biochemical cure was taken. Use of the verb root mwa ‘drink’ and the word games involved in its collocations, raises awareness with the audience. Another cohesive device is the modal connective. In text 1 the deceitful advice to avoid certain food types was exposed as the cause of malnutrition. The exposure of cause and effect was introduced with a modal connective. In the dysentery text the authors seem to exploit the genre marker of trickster stories in a similar way, this time addressing false assumptions about the working of biochemical medicines. Use of the connective ambügöbö ‘while actually’ in line 15 is an example of innovative language use. Conventionally this connective exposes the ‘deceiver’ in trickster stories or the unreliable friend in animal stories. In this story there is no unreliable friend or trickster, nevertheless the connective is used to present the speaker himself as the one who is fooled. The amoebas have entered his body without him acknowledging it:

Na-nïsa nï-kwa ï-gyagyá aki a-ndei akö-sugo bö, NPF.1SG- INF-go INF-fall CL-joy here at-home PROG-say that 14. Once at home, I was overjoyed while I was saying

Mï-söngöö yo-sio dhö nö-mwö bü-tï b-öngö tîa mwa-nî CL-worms CL.HPF-die for HPF.1SG- drink CL-medicine CL-LOGOPH now drink-PTC “The worms have died because I did drink the medicine for it!”

Ambügöbö tá nô b-isi ng-übü-nanï mï-söngöö While.actually just at CL-day DET- REL-GIVEN CL-worms 15. WHILE ACTUALLY, just that very day, the worms yo-kumonio batá ku a-mbîsë. HPF.CL-enter again also CL-behind had entered (my intestines) again afterwards.

The connective ambügöbö ‘while actually’ is used in this text for the exposure of self-deceit by the speaker. Probably this use reflects attempts to make the medical information in this speech acceptable to the audience.105 The speaker presents his own experience in a hilarious manner, thereby involving message. In 2000 I heard a radio advertisement for matches in Nairobi: “The match that lasts!” This phrase obviously exploits the English homophone match (lucifer/couple). 105 Similarly, the authors of ‘the malnutrition text’ made the edited information accessible to everybody in the community, as evident from their choice of protagonist. By the use of the ominously named Angakömü No-Gain they presented a wealthy chief as the ‘looser’ who learns a lesson, addressing possible prejudices about the relationship between poverty and malnourishment. The authors thereby make the information relevant for poor and wealthy readers alike. The choice of protagonist in Text 1 therefore contributes to the accessibility of the knowledge that is presented.

389 the audience in ridiculing himself as a foolish victim of the tricky, invisible creatures, who deceives himself by believing he has eradicated them by drinking one dose of medicine. The allusion to trickster stories followed by first person singular statements is disarming, contributing to the acceptability of his theoretical statements about the relation between source water and invisible creatures. He involves the audience in a shared ridicule of his ignorance regarding the presented information. Because even the knowledgeable speaker himself was ignorant about it, nobody needs to feel ashamed if they had been ignorant of these facts. Because the ‘tricky’ creatures cause the most terrible cramps, their eradication indeed represents a ‘joyful’ victory as the protagonist anticipates in line 14. This continuous torture of the intestines is described with ideophones106 suggesting the parasites’ violent control and contributes to this identification. The listeners can easily identify with the protagonist because everybody in the audience probably felt defeated by a similar pain at some time in their personal history. Instead of an exposition by a semi-omniscient speaker about amoebic dysentery and the methods to prevent it, the speaker addresses the needs of the ‘tortured’ audience, putting himself in the place of the hilarious victim of self-deceit. The entertainment provided by this identification allows the audience to identify themselves with the naïve user of expensive medicines, who spoils the effect of the cure that he has just bought at the health clinic without even realising what he is doing. Addressing the need of the audience is typical for Budu performative language use, because it typically manifests attempts to (re)establish the social personhood of the addressee(s) as concluded in chapter 5. The co-occurrence of cohesive devices and performative features in this text results in language use that addresses the need of the audience by self-mocking exposition. This self mocking also represents a creative attempt to deal with possible face-threatening acts which could be involved in an overly omniscient speech.

8.5.6 Directive language use in Text 2

Like the first text the dysentery text is exhortative in its exploitation of the structure and idiom of moral advices. Most medical information is structured thematically. Each paragraph tends to refer to another aspect of the presented information. In contrast, both Text 1 and 2 display a structure that is only ‘interrupted’ by a case study functioning as bad example, while the entire text is structured like moral advices, consider table 8.G where each line represents part of the ongoing text:

Table 8.G Structure of Moral Advices -address mwaná/ baná “children” (affirms Speaker–Hearer relationship) -exhortation with use of imperative -‘good’ example idó -‘bad’ example bïbî - (case story) -warning -promise bühêa ‘healing; restoration’ -conclusion mwaná/baná “children” (reaffirming the Speaker–Hearer relationship)

The binary contrast is maintained throughout the text, with good and bad examples followed by corresponding warnings and promises. Moral advice is given by parents to their child(ren). Both address and conclusion refer to the parent/child relationship, probably because this reinforces the likelihood that the advice will be accepted. In appendix 8.C a Budu text with free translation is provided to illustrate the idiosyncratic structure of this sub-genre of work orders.

106Ideophones are part of the cluster of forms used to involve the audience (see section 5.2.4 and section 7.2.4). by their expressive performance that invites the audience to join in or to at least identify themselves with the discourse participants (topic involvement).

390 In the medical speech about dysentery the opening of the text contains a reference to baná “children” included in the oath vocative ‘You, children of mother’ Inu baná bö înáa. The sound of this opening is vaguely reminiscent of the address of prototypical moral advices in Budu. Secondly, the address in moral advices is usually followed by an exhortation. In this medical speech yambümü idó ‘it wouldn’t be good’ introduces an encouragement to behave in a certain way. Like a moral advice, the text continues with a case history. The speaker first discusses his own experience representing the bad example, which would be to continue with his own poor drinking habits after he had heard about the ‘secret’ of the doctor. The contrast between the two experiences is supported by the transition of a focus on ‘drinking’ in the first half of the text and a focus on ‘water,’ either boiled or not, in the last half. This transition reflects a change of perspective from focusing on the consumption of medicine as the sole solution to intestinal cramps to seeing the treatment of drinking water as aspect of a healthy life-style. Similar to moral advices that tend to express contrasting homophones instead of cyclical recurrences of words, this text also contrasts ‘drinking medicine’ with ‘drinking water’ as indicated in the previous overview. The moral advice in appendix 8.C contrasts the objects of the verb kpata ‘to follow’ (advice as opposed to ‘boys’). Four times it occurs with ‘deeds’ that are to be ‘followed’ as good examples in contrast to a more literal ‘following’ of the object ‘boys,’ providing a bad example for the addressed daughter of the moral advice. Thirdly even the idiomatic ending of the dysentery text with its reference to thebühêa ‘salvation; healing’ is typical for moral advices and for performative genres such as parables & other pulpit speech. The reasons for this structure and idiom could be that exhortations are necessarily structured in this particular way. The dysentery text has some directive elements, similar to moral advices. This language use may activate the use of a strict binary structure, while directive features also convey the urgency of a message as clarified in the opening of the text.107 Texts that are at the same time performative and explicit have the particular property that they tend to convey extremely urgent messages that may make the difference between life and death.

8.3.3 More Usage of Performative Language in Text 2

This story concludes with a short summary of the most important points. It is worth noting that the last line of this text quotes the conclusion to Gospel parables from the Bible: “if any man have ears to hear, let him hear” (King James Version).108 The medical speech was uttered before any Bible Translation had been published in Budu.109 Translation activities were only able to start four years afterwards. The speaker therefore seems to use this quote in allusion to Budu performative genres such as decrees, sermons, prayers, in which Swahili-trained pastors may use instantaneous translations of idiomatic expression of the Swahili Bible.110 Use of this idiomatic expression conveys that the speaker is not

107 The exhortation particle, the vocative and the imperative are used as well as the first and second forms that are characteristic of directive communication. 108 In Biblical references this idiomatic expression is used to convey the urgency of a warning that is communicated by means of a parable and is expressed to emphasize the active role that is expected from the addressees of the involved language use. (For Jesus Christ’s use of this expression see the gospel of Saint Mark 4:23, 7:15; the gospel of Saint Matthew 11:15; 13:9; the gospel of Saint Luke 14:35, 8:8 and in the book of Revelation 2:7,11,17,29; 3:6,13,22; 13:9). 109 The Gospel of Saint Luke was printed in 2001 in both Koya and Nita dialects. 110 Reverend Basitande does not normally use Biblical idiom in his speech as a professional particularity that pervades other registers of speech. Personally I remember Reverend Basitande as expert in Budu music and as quite knowledgeable in the management of fish ponds and sheep.

391 merely describing a medical problem to present information; Reverend Basitande seems to wants the audience to understand the importance of this information and to react to his recommendations. Allusions to performative language create an association with sermons that might be familiar to the audience; these allusions also provide the new genre with a provisional institutional context. The person who is communicating about illnesses and discomfort apparently wants to make it clear that the place for the presentation of medical advice should not be at an ïgbë ‘healer,’ while all the same revealing ‘secrets’ about the origin of illnesses. The speaker of this text therefore ‘borrows’ some features of the communication that takes place in the institutional context of the church for ‘medical information,’ possibly since he is a pastor. Such borrowing is typical for what Fairclough (1988) calls the ‘socio-semantic change of register power’ which tends to arise when “two extremely divergent ideologies” co-exist in a society resulting in an attempt to naturalise the language use.

8.4 The Use of Innovative Language in both Medical Texts

An analysis of the two medical texts makes clear how exceptional the language use in these two texts is in comparison to the conventional language use described in the chapters 5 to 7. Co-occurrences convey the intention of the authors to express some information that is not known to the addressees. Both texts make information explicit. Both concern the relationship between what people consume on the one hand and their health on the other hand. It is worth noting that the main message that is communicated explicitly in both texts is negative: “Actually the bad eating habits disturbed the household,” and: “Don’t drink water from the source, it has creatures.” The positive message that is conveyed by implicit information seems more important; if worded it would sound like: “We can handle the problem of malnutrition, it is only an internal problem,” and: “Drinking boiled water is a cure that is even better against dysentery than the cures the doctor sells.” It is not only features from the second cluster that are important in the communication information in these texts. In both cases the narrators exploit the cohesive devices of the embedded story to convey their underlying message in support of the explicitly presented message. In text 1 the shift in perspective from focus on the problem as agent towards a focus on the problem as object that can be handled is significant. The trickster particle is used to expose the deceitful appearance of malnutrition as an external invader who is invited by envious thoughts within the community. After this exposure the text continues from the perspective that malnutrition is a problem that can be handled by practical measures. Similarly, in the dysentery text the change in perspective is significant. The first half represents the focus of the patient on the medicine that he wants to drink and that he sees as the cure to his intestinal cramps. The patient explicitly formulates his assumption that there must be some medicine strong enough to kill his intestinal parasites. In the second half the focus shifts from the much-desired instant solution to the nature of the problem. “Not what you drink, but how you drink it is important,” seems to be the implicit message. The water for consumption contains the problematic creatures that can be eradicated by boiling it. This solution is more effective, since it deals with the nature of the problem. Also in this text the trickster particle is used for the exposure of the problem, although in this text the transition follows only later, when the most important information is presented in the climax of the story, framed as the revelation of a secret by the doctor. The text exploits acoustic signals and word games emphasizing the major transition that is also marked with an exceptional focus construction, and, even more exceptionally, with two attributive participles qualifying ‘water’. From this point on the quality of ‘water’ that people drink is in focus, hence the attributive constructions used to describe it. In both texts the most important information is framed as words of somebody with authority in the embedded decree. In the malnutrition text this decree is formulated by the elders of the village; in the dysentery text by the doctor. Similar to audiovisual techniques used in western documentaries, where the camera zooms in to the white coat of the expert or to the board of wise men in their meeting,

392 cohesive devices from the oral tradition are used in these two texts to frame the most important explicit information with embedded speech genres. The structure of both texts also alludes to moral advices by exhibiting binary structure. The use of a case history with life examples and the expression of a contrast, supported by homophones all allude to language use that is particular for moral advices, although, unlike moral advices, the first text only has few directive traits. The similarity with directive communication is most clear in the opening and conclusion of the entire texts and in the embedded decrees in both texts. In the second text the oath formula in the opening alludes to performative communication. The impact of directive communication depends entirely on other clusters of co-occurrence manifest in directive texts as concluded in section 7.4. While all directive texts contain appeals to the addressee(s), implicit information seems to represent the weakest appeal. Directive genres without explicit information are used for entertainment: drama; trickster stories, ghost stories.111 A combination of directive and performative variables seems to represent more serious messages. This kind of communication is represented by ‘directive-performative’ genres, for instance parable s& other pulpit speech; reproaches; mourning songs; wedding songs, where the addressee is expected to react immediately. Of this group the most serious genres are also distinguished for involvement of the community, namely church songs, circumcision songs and trickster stories and reproaches. A range seems to exist from ‘light’ entertainment, represented by ‘directive- implicit’ communication, to moderate seriousness, represented by ‘directive-performative’ communication and at the other end ‘heavy’ messages. These last types tend to reflect life-threatening situations and are communicated by ‘community involved performative-directive’ genres.112 The only genres exhibiting explicit and performative features are the directive and extremely serious reproaches and decrees. It seems most likely that the users of the two medical texts in this chapter have tried to impact their audience with a texture of characteristics that conveys the heavy tone of their message, which is a matter of life and death. This urgency did not prevent the pastor from launching hilarious allusions to trickster stories, whereby the main character is fooling himself in a ridiculous way. Another explanation could be that, in both cases use of performative characteristics is merely activated by the integration of a case history into an explicit presentation. This explanation is not very convincing since also the themes and language use reflect life-threatening issues which are affecting the entire community.113 Theoretical knowledge about invisible realities in food or drinking water is not easy to verify for the addressees. Both authors creatively use the ‘normal’ procedure for identifying deceivers in storytelling as a bridge to introduce their theoretical statements. The relevance of empirical evidence in the exposure of social deceit functions in both texts to explain that there is in fact enough evidence to expose the tricky developments of sickness as a deceit that can be stopped. Ironically, while the conventions for exposing and addressing social deceits are accepted as the cultural way to handle certain risks, the social protocol that could similarly114 lead to avoiding unnecessary health risks are usually disregarded as if malnutrition and parasites were two unavoidable aspects of the fate that strikes

111 Explicit non-directive genres in contrast are not meant to be humorous (proverbs; cultural documentation, medical information, life stories) and the addressee is perhaps only appealed to in embedded dialogues as one of the characters that serves the entertainment value of the text. 112 as discussed in section 7.2.4.7 where the embedded reproach even represents a fatal confrontation. 113 In this perspective, it is surprising that both embedded decrees fail to report the conventional reaction of the addressee(s) “Yes, I understood.” Since this closing formula of embedded decrees is missing in both playfully used decrees in the medical texts presented in this chapter, I rather expect this to be deliberate. It is as if the didactic authors/ speaker wants to involve the audience as the party who is expected to react with: “Yes, I understood!” 114 By observing (involving prolonged spying in stories) and identifying (reproaching in stories and in disagreements) the causes of sickness, the victims and their relatives could take measures that are directly related to the cause of health-threatening diseases, instead of accepting the prescribed food avoidances of the herbal healer, whose metaphysical relation to the sicknesses necessarily remains obscure as part of the ‘magic’ adhered to by the specialist as is represented in Budu society.

393 everybody who is not metaphysically protected by some luck. The authors seem to have attempted to explain the relevance of deceit-exposing protocol for medically ‘tricky’ cases. The authors of both medical texts discussed in this chapter have tried to expose some deadly serious enemies of the Budu people as a deceit that comes in a tricky disguise that can only be recognised with difficulty. Both texts attempt to provide empirical evidence for the deceit, as the protocol for addressing traitors requires in the Budu narrative tradition. The attempts to expose superstition about witchcraft and biochemical medicines in the discussed texts are similar to the well-known attempts by the victims of tricksters or betrayed circumcision partners. Such characters await the moment when they have collected enough evidence to ‘prove’ the deceit, in order to stop a dangerous liaison in a socially acceptable manner while avoiding the risk of imminent extermination. The empirical evidence in the first text is provided by narrating the observable effects of un- healthy meals on the appearance and stamina of a family.115 In the second text, empirical evidence is integrated in the iconic references to the symptoms of amoebic dysentery, which provide the strongest proof that these invisible creatures indeed exist. The emphasis on an empirical approach to observations has various reasons. The knowledge about microscopic creatures and nutritious values is conveyed in an easily accessible form, which does not exclude anybody with information that cannot be observed by them. The accessibility of information is one reason why the authors seem to have emphasized the observed facts. Another reason for the emphasis on observable facts is the contrast between the occult wisdom of healers and the open teachings of the church, in which context both medical texts arose. Official church denominations in Congo emphasize the openness of their meetings and practices, whereas mysterious rites performed in secret are suspected of being for private gain at the expense of others.116 The authors seem to implicitly confront their audience with superstitions about magic, be it either the ‘magic’ use of biochemical medicine or the ‘magic’ influence of the evil eye of a jealous person. They do this by allusions to a well-known protocol of exposing deceit that the heritage of Budu storytelling provides.

8.5 An analysis of Creative Language in both Texts

In chapter 1 the notions of ‘intermediate’ genres and of ‘intergenre’ were introduced. The first notion was used by Yates and Orlikowski (1992) in their research of new genres that are created from existing genres. In their description of the development of the office memo from the business letter, Yates and Orlikowski argue that maintenance, elaboration, and modification are the three phases of development. Conventions for writing business letters were developed in an intermediate stage with ‘intermediate genres’ exhibiting features of business letters and memos. This change is related to the new technologies introduced when internal communication arose within business companies. Changed conventions regarding business letters resulted, making them shorter and less formal. The notion of ‘intergenre’ was used by Halmari and Virtanen (2005) to describe genres that develop from the need to hide overt persuasion in advertising. This need results in intergenres with features borrowed from other genres. The goal of this mixed genre use is to prevent the immediate recognition of the main genre representing ‘taboo’ values; as no addressee wants to be manipulated. In contrast, intermediate stages of elaborated genre use develop when the maintenance of an existing genre no longer meets the changed conventions for its use as are mutually agreed upon.

115 The relationship between diet and appearance is known by older village inhabitants who remember how brides used to be guarded in isolation during the preparations for the wedding, during which time they were fed with various types of rich food. The accumulated body mass of these brides and their shiny skin are still talked about in Budu culture as the phenomenal assets of those who were priviledged to be fed with this special diet. 116 Cf. Emma Wild (1999:456) and MacGaffey, Wyatt (1994:252). Kimbanguism and the Question of Syncretism in Zaire, in Blakely; Van Beek & Thomson (eds.) (1994)

394 These two theories about the development of new genres are helpful in an analysis of Budu medical case stories because they represent technical innovation and cultural tension. The introduction of expositions with theoretical knowledge in classes influenced the transmission of knowledge. Classroom teaching represents a technical innovation reflected in the use of more adjectives expressing evaluations by teachers that do not necessarily exhibit a personal acquaintance with the subject matter. At the same time the use of long evaluations in groups represents culturally-inappropriate or at least irrelevant behaviour in egalitarian societies. Classroom teaching also represents an anomaly requiring an explanation. The use of case histories with personal experience to validate the presented lessons compensates for the mere allusion to experience with evaluations, by means of adjectives for instance. The use of parallelisms and cycles creates an involvement of the audience in making sense of the presented facts. In contrast, long enumerations of facts qualify school lessons as irrelevant in the Budu context, as the language use does not attempt to involve the students. Consider table 8.H with a comparison of the two extreme ends of transmission of knowledge and the ‘intergenre’ or intermediate genre in the middle:

Table 8.H The ‘intergenre’ represented by the two discussed texts

LANGUAGE USED FOR CREATIVE BLEND: LANGUAGE USED FOR THEORETICAL INFO PRACTICAL EXPERIENCE

INFORMATION: integrated and explicit two layers: fragmented and implicit explicit for facts, implicit for values

STRUCTURE: list of facts key information in cycles cycles and contrasts

AUDIENCE: expected to reproduce form key words imprinted, involved in sense-making rest ‘food for thought’

CONTEXT: detached; abstract Core text non-directive, situated references appeal in the opening of combined with both texts, generalisations appeal in closure text 2

Table 8.H summarises the discussion of the creative language use in the two medical texts in this chapter. The first column lists the conventional language used for the transmission of theoretical information as Budu speakers are exposed to it in French education and the last column lists the conventional language used for the transmission of knowledge and experiences in Budu culture itself. Since the medical information in the two discussed texts apparently does not fit into either category, both texts represent similar attempts to repair the ‘gap’ (Bauman and Briggs 1992) between the new, acculturated genres with the transmission of knowledge and existing ones that were displayed in table 8.A with its overview of differences.117 Whereas differences in setting, social role and activity create an intertextual gap, possible areas to repair it seem, in the light of table 8.H, to be the presentation of information, the use of context and involvement of the audience. These three areas are discussed now.118

117 In referenece to Bauman and Briggs (1992) Goodman (2001:110) summarizes what such an interpretative leap or interpretive space, called ‘intertextual gap’ actually is: “a term that describes that relative fit or lack of fit between a particular text or performance and the broader genre or genres with which it is associated . Some intertextual strategies minimize the gap, or the distance between a situated text (token) and its generic precedents (type); this tends to imbue a text with the authority associated with the genre. Other strategies maximize the gap, challenging the genre’s authority and perhapts furnishing an alternative vision.” 118 Setting: public as opposed to private settings; social role: experienced as opposed to trained and paid teacher roles; and finally activities, namely demonstration in contrast to exposition.

395 First, with regards to the information, both texts in this chapter were seen to present their information at two different levels. At the surface level facts were presented as explicit information; underlying values concerning superstition and a magic belief in biochemical medicines were addressed with a fragmented presentation of implicit information while symptoms of illnesses were presented with descriptions or iconic references. Second, with regards to the structure, the fragmented information is presented in cohesive cycles of recurring elements. Contrasts are indicated with parallel formulations, in which variation plays a crucial role, enabling the audience to infer the qualities of things. See also chapter 5 for the discussion of this cohesive device. Third, with regard to the audience, evaluations with explicitly mentioned qualities present integrated information. In the educational system in Congo these evaluations are repeated in order to imprint them on the audience that is supposed to reproduce them verbatim.119 In contrast, the cycles and parallelisms invite the audience by their variation to participate in making sense,120 providing ‘food for thought’ without requiring an immediate reaction. Fourth the context of production is important, and this remark is restricted to the amoebic text. It starts with the most serious appeal possible, formulated in an oath vocative. The text similarly ends with an appeal to all listeners who understood its message. Both the opening and the end of the speech therefore contain situated references to the context of production shared between Speaker(s) and Addressees. Text 1 only has a general ‘we- including the addressee’ in the closing remark that thereby gently exhorts the addressees. In conclusion, the use of cohesive and exhortative language in the two medical texts can be explained as an attempt at making information relevant to the audience while inviting it to reflect and to unpack the skilfully wrapped message. Creative allusions to other genres are exploited and seem activated by the life-threatening issues for which the theoretical transmission of knowledge seems unable to ‘work.’ The authors thereby maximize the gap with acculturated expositions, challenging its authority. Rather than replicating obscure expositions of information from the lessons in the acculturating training institutions, the authors attempt to provide more reliable ways to convey valuable information. In the process they reframe the setting as an institutional decree, the social role of the main participant as an experienced member of the community. The message is validated by references to personal experience and the activity of observing facts from the sequence of events in the lives of others. The authors thereby minimize the distance between the text (the token) and genres used for performative events such as circumcision (the type). This imbues the text with the authority associated with the language of village elders. Selecting the genre to which medical information is linked determines which purposes it is made to serve.

8.6 Conclusion

Two texts with different modes and with a different gender of the author(s) were examined in this chapter. Both present medical information in an innovative manner. Therefore both are bridging

119 The colonial education system introduced physical punishments for students who failed to produce the correct answer. Correct answers consisted of verbatim repetitions of the words spoken by the teacher. When our family lived in Ibambi between 1995-1998, we regularly walked past the school on our way to the market and overheard the mechanical drills of reproduced texts by the entire class. In the higher grades, the teachers would write entire text books on the blackboard and pupils were expected to copy this in their exercise books. The pedagogical methods from early colonial epochs were continued due to economical needs (no text books available). At the same time the acculturating influence was felt in the larger towns as well. In Bunia in 1993/4 private francophone schools even had their pupils reproducing the correct answers without creativity following the norm in the educational system of acculturated Congolese schools in the 1990’s (Banage Araali in personal conversations) 120Tannen 1989:17 refers to Scollon’s term of ‘mythical involvement’ (1982).

396 unacceptable differences between foreign genres with theoretical information and traditional ways of transmitting knowledge in Budu. This results in several common characteristics that were discussed above. Based on these similarities in the creative use of language, one may wonder whether the two texts represent a trend that is to be continued. Apparently the need for ‘bridging intertextual gaps’ is there, as explained in the previous section. This was also illustrated with the excerpt from drama in the introduction to this chapter. Apparently the presentation of lengthy enumerations of facts with many evaluations by the speaker risks coming across as irrelevant and even pedantic, if the speaker is not experienced in the subject matter. In section 5.2.6 the importance of affirming solidarity was discussed as one of the factors that determine basic patterns of language use in Budu. The importance of the sixth cluster of performative language use in Budu suggests that the attempts of the authors of the two discussed texts in this chapter may have their origin in a concern to reduce the face-threatening language of theoretical expositions. A need to express solidarity with people who suffer from malnutrition and amoebic dysentery was filled by using conventional storytelling devices while restoring the dignity of their social personhood with (embedded) performative speech. The use of Budu texts with medical information is too new to allow speculations about the continued use of existing devices from the literate (oral) tradition in those genres. Although there is no parameter that corresponds with a written vs. spoken dichotomy in Budu, genres with an informational focus tend to be on the written side, whereas texts with a focus on interaction seem to be on the spoken side, as the parameter of involvement illustrates.121 In this chapter, two medical texts illustrate that devices of the Budu tradition are used in innovative ways to convey both the structure and the emphasis of the text. They illustrate that such devices can function in a way that is comparable to graphic devices such as titles, layout, numbering, and lists. Acoustic devices were illustrated to highlight information in a framework of a cyclical presentation of thematic material, where reported speech plays an important role in indicating the status of each element. The discussed texts suggest that information concerning the symptoms of amoebic dysentery can be communicated effectively by means of ideophones. It is questionable whether linguistic forms that integrate information, such as attributive adjectives, would be more effective in addressing the kind of assumptions that are exposed in the two medical texts. Indeed their use seems to function as an index of special social roles in Budu society, even with undesirable effects if they are used with contemporaries as the fragment of drama at the beginning of this chapter suggested. In addition to their role in the presentation of implied information, acoustic signals seem essential to structure texts, in written and in spoken communication. As most texts in the young Budu tradition of booklets are read aloud in groups, it is not likely that the convention of using acoustic signals within a framework provided by reported speech recurrences will disappear in the coming decades. They might develop into signs facilitating advanced readers in diagonal reading. In particular homophones that ‘look alike’ on the printed page seem to suit this function. However, it is crucial that these signs, including ideophones, are used where they are expected to occur according to the conventions. Reported speech and its use as a structuring device plays an important role in the marking of thematically and dramatically salient information. This function is not necessarily restricted to narrative genres, as the two medical texts in this chapter show. An important conclusion to the analysis of the two texts in this chapter is that elements that apparently represent parataxis, such as parallel constructions and cycles of recurring material, may in fact co-occur with an informational focus that integrates information in an iconic manner. This conclusion leads to a final observation regarding the exploitation of communicative strategies. For a long time the use of acoustic signals and parataxis was, in the discussion about the great divide between written and oral communication for instance, considered as characteristic of the

121 Exceptions are work orders and recipes that tend to be used in spoken communication while they are informational in focus. They are similar to proverbs and also the embedded genres with thoughts and genealogical interviews (see chapter 6 table 6.6).

397 presentation of non-integrated information in orally oriented societies. Biber (1995:239) refers to Goody (1977; 1986) and Stubbs (1980) when he explains this tendency in orally oriented societies as the absence of exposure to the written mode. In contrast to the spoken mode, that all cultures exploit, the exploitation of the written mode is developed gradually over time. In this view societies with an oral orientation make maximal use of the communicative resources of the spoken mode, including acoustic signals and parataxis. At the same time these societies, and other societies with a majority that is functionally illiterate, are not used to exploiting the resources of the written mode to its full extent. Neither the production nor the processing of carefully prepared texts with integrated information is taken advantage of to the extent that can be exploited in written mode. 122 For processing this means that page numbers, layout of the printed page, and selective- or non-linear reading in general are not used to access printed information. It also means that planning and proof-reading are not practised in production. Discounting the assumption that one mode would be superior to the other, Biber claims that carefully worded concise texts with integrated information are not produced in language groups with an oral orientation Biber (1995:239). However, his cross-linguistic comparison of the dimensions of register variation clarifies the functional diversity of structural complexity in various cultures, while Biber himself (1995:264) comes to the conclusion that “it would not be adequate to treat structural complexity as an undifferentiated whole.” The basic structural opposition between informational, unplanned, oral registers and formal, planned, literate registers is formulated in numerous studies as a contrast between respectively loose, paratactic structures with extensive co-ordination and fragmentation versus complex grammatically structured literate formulations including embedding and a careful integration of structure (cf. Biber 1995:261, who refers to Givón 1979; Ochs 1979 and Chafe 1982). In short the contrast can be referred to as one between the fragmented presentation of information and its integrated presentation. The findings in this corpus research for Budu confirm Biber’s conclusion about structural complexity. In the dichotomy that was mentioned, the structural complexity that is associated with the exploitation of the written mode does not necessarily co-occur with the integrated presentation of information (Biber 1995:362). The postulation of a simple dichotomy does not adequately account for the functional diversity of language with structural complexity, as for instance linguistic elements, such as dependant clauses and nominal modifiers illustrate. My own conclusion is that an approach to fragmented information as an undifferentiated whole seems just as inadequate. A homogeneous category of stereotypically presented non-integrated information seems to exist only by grace of its contrast to integrated information. Since integrated information, as a category, does not adequately account for the complex reality of language use, it does not seem very fruitful to use its opposite as a category either. The use of parataxis, acoustic signals, homophones, recurring thematic information and other elements that are used in a fragmented presentation of information, relate to clusters of co- occurring features of culturally specific dimensions, and therefore any attempt to approach this group as one undifferentiated whole is inadequate. Various authors consider the multifunctionality of ideophones that are exploited in structuring texts (see Appendix 5E). A similar approach to the use of other acoustic signals and parallelism seems to be more fruitful than qualifying those linguistic devices as fragmented presentations of information that are simplistically interpreted as a cultural indication of an underdeveloped literacy or as the social indication of semi-literate, pidginised language use (Childs 2001: 70). Such interpretations seem to say more about the limited understanding of functions of co-occurring features in all its complexity than about the development of language use or of literate practices. Barber (1999:18) underlines the importance of ‘configurations of words in texts’ when she argues against a separation of text and performance (such as introduced in Bauman and Briggs, to whom she refers). With illustrated references to Yoruba oral verbal art she suggests that an essential

122 Biber 1995:239 mentions page numbers, tables of contents and indexes, selective- or non-linear (diagonal) reading, and the planning and revision that are required for the production of carefully integrated, informational prose.

398 aspect of the skill of oral performers is reminding the audience of texts that exist beyond and outside the moment of performance by quotations and mnemonic stepping stones. This decontextualisation makes use of iconic references instead of elements with integrated information. The devices used in her illustrations of the performances in several Yoruba genres have in common that they can be minimal; exhibiting enough properties to identify them as allusions, while they can also be expanded at the narrator’s will. Barber compares the iconic characteristics of these devices in her exposition to icons in computer programmes. Their “tiny presence is the point of entrance into an extensive and unsuspected domain” (1999:33, 4). Barber sees texts as ‘any configuration of signs that is coherently interpretable by some community of users,” and “recognized as texts within the cultures that produce them” (Barber 1999:16, italics in the original). This emphasis on the cultural conventions that give sense to configurations of otherwise incoherently combined elements in texts is important in combination with her approach to linguistic devices as icons, because it adequately explains “ingenious creativity” and “improvisation” (1999:36). This “clearly has a bearing on those “great divide” theories of orality and literacy that postulate that [the language use that characterises] ‘oral folk’ (see Ong)” cannot possibly be used for analysis or evaluation (Barber 1999:36). Barber ends her article with the remark that “other scholars might be able to shed some light” on the question of whether “the property of “quotedness” is equally central in other African oral traditions.” Instead of focusing on information and on the manner of presenting it in different cultures, Barber considers the use of language itself. This approach with its emphasis on creativity puts a finger on the unfruitfulness in which the discussion on orality versus literacy seems to have got stuck. Genre features may function as iconic references if the language use in a society has developed strong conventions because of its isolation. The analysis of the creative use of genre features explains why language users do not automatically replicate model literate genres and how they rather creatively exploit features that make sense in their own social organisation. This social organisation, which may be diametrically opposed to the social organisation associated with the culture representing the model, may give rise to its own dynamics, as the Budu case with models from hierarchically organised societies versus egalitarian societies illustrated.

Appendix 8.A: Glossed Budu Text 1 about Malnutrition The first text in a booklet with medical information by a group of nurses, Ibambi 1996, Mrs. Abimani

Mu-genú. Á-bha mû-nganá i-no bö Angakömû, CL- story CL- father CL-one CL-name like NAME (literally: he will never succeed). 1. (Listen to) the story about a certain man called Mister No-Gain;

M-oí a-ngö Anguakebu nô b-aná b-ïbô mëdëa ba-wolo ï-kümbü a-matí ö gbondo. CL-woman CL-his NAME (literally: in vain) ADD CL-children CL-theirs six NPF.PL- live CL-village CL-within of forest 2. his wife Anguakebu and their six children; they lived in a village in the forest.

Angakömû nô m-oí bö-kïö tëa nögbë, akö-chana b-ombí ng-üba b-ömö,ö-pïndïa li-pindi, NAME ADD CL-wife PF.3PL-do work extreme PROG-surpass CL-person DET-REL CL-other NPF.3SG-trap CL-traps 3. Mister No-Gain and his wife did a lot of work, more the other (villagers), after he put out animal traps,

bö-húna ba-kübhaa, bo-dh-íso ba-nama, ba-köbö, bö-fa sipe... CONS.3PL-plant CL-field CONS.3PL- put.down.CAUS CL-animals CL- chicken CONS.3PL-catch fish 4.They planted fields and raised animals and chicken, then they caught fish.

399 Wo-se-ni a-ndöngö, wa-gbüka ba-yáka tá ba-bomu: lï-bügü, a-kpüta, 2SG-go-GERUND CL-his.place IPF2SG..find CL-things just CL-all CL-banana CL-cassava.leaves 5. And (if you were) going to his place, you would find just everything: cooking bananas, manioc, mï-küsa, a-gbündü,söja,epinali, ma-mbamba, ma-nanasi, li-ndima, avüka, mï-kïï, CL-corncobs CL-green.leaf soya spinach (FR) CL-pumpkin.leaves CL-pineapple(FR) CL-lemon (SW), avocado (FR), CL-eggs 6.corn cobs, bitter leafs, soya beans, spinach, pumpkin leaves, pineapples, lemons, avocados, eggs, ba-yáka kû ba-bomu üba-abë, m-ombí o-sisékio na-bô akö-nï-dya. CL-thing too CL-all REL- ANAPH CL-person IPFPR.3SG-need ADD-them PROG-INF-feed 7. just everthing which somebody needs feeding their family.

Angakömû m-ombí ö ï-ngámá, ng-ïyë yï-tà-akisöbá. NAME CL-person of CL-chiefdom DET-REL CL-ADIM-terrible 8. Mister No-Gain was a man with a terribly large property.

Ï-ngámá ng-ïyë-nënï a-ï-gbucho CL-chiefdom DET-REL-ANAPH PF.3SG-OP.SG-store 9. Concerning that particular property, he saved what was on that property,

ö-mbö-nï-dyak-ak-íso kömû na-yö u-fíni ng-üwa w-angö, ndû akê yo-sisékio-öö. PF.3SG- NEGIR-HAB-feed-REP-CAUS not ADD-CL CL-kitchen DET-REL CL-his if ANAPH IPF3SG-need-RAF so that he never had to feed his own kitchen when his property was in need.

Ma-bisi ma-bomu bö-dyö ïbô tá a-kpüta nô kpokuma. CL-days CL-all PF.3PL-eat them just CL-cassava.leaves ADD cassava.roots 10. Every day they themselves just ate cassava leaves with its root.

Ma-dyo, ng-üka k-ômö kü-tà-manjanja ma-bomu, Bö-kü-gabhö tá gabha akö ba-gyëgyë CL-food DET-REL CL-other CL-ADI–beautiful CL-all HPF.3PL-OP3PL-sell just sell for CL-money All those other beautiful crops, 11. They just sold that food for money, dhö ö-kïö akö-künda, bö i-bio nô ba-gyëgyë ba-ja nögbë. for PF.3SG-do PROG-like like 3SG.OPT-be ADD CL-money CL-much extremely for he was fond of (the idea) that he would acquire an enormous amount of money.

Y-aka yï-tà-ï-ja tîa A-söbïï a-mu-njo ü-nötü. CL-thing CL-ADIM-CL-much now CL-God NPF.3SG-OP3SG-give CL-deliver 12. Now a huge thing which God gave him, was childbirth.

M-oí a-ngö a-kya tá nô mw-aná akö i-bei. CL-woman CL-his NPF.3SG-did just with CL-child at CL-breast His wife was still breastfeeding a child.

M-oí á-wa köbö tá, bö ambô mu-bhika w-ëkö. CL-woman IPF.3SG-kill chicken just like IRR CL-guest IPF.3SG.come 13. The woman would kill a chicken only in case a visitor would come by.

A-mbise ö ma-kwaa, ba-ná nô m-oí kûtaa bö-püngö akö-bhöta nô nï-kwa ma-wondi. CL-behind of CL-period CL-child ADD CL-wonan too, HPF.3PL-start PROG-grow ADD INF-fall CL-weakness 14. After a while the children began growing and the woman too. They started to develop (various) health problems.

Kü ba-bomu m-aa, mï-tïndï, lï-köndö nô m-esu kö-püngö na-bô a-pundoo. Too CL-all CL-guts CL-leg CL-arm ADD CL-eye HPF.3PL- began ADD-them INF--swell 15. All their members, like their intestines, legs, arms and faces, everything started to be swollen.

Ga A-ngakömû nô m-oí a-ngö bö: Na-bhi-sï a-bok-íso ï-gbë, Says NAME ADD CL-woman CL-his like IPF.1SG-be MODP INF-greet-CAUS CL-healer 16. Says Mister No-Gain to his wife : ’’Let me go see the healer,

400 Dhö na-angö (kö)mû a-mbîa bö y-aka yï-ta-kisöbá ng-ïyë y-ëkö-sï gbanî! for IPF.1SG.be-NEG not INF-know like CL-thing CL-ADIM-terrible DET-REL IRR.3SG.come-MODP where 17. For I do not know where such a terrifying thing could originate!”

Ï-gbë ya-mu-sig-io bö: w-akö-w-ik-io ï-ngámá, CL-healer NPF.3SG-OP3SG-declare.APPL that: IPF.2SG-PROGR-die-REP-APL CL-property 18. The healer declared to him : “You are in the process of dying because* of the property

ng-ïyë wa-i-gbucho. Ndû y-a banî, DET-REL NPF.2SG-OP3SG-save If CL-be such that you have saved. If it is like that: (*implied : some envious person has bewitched you because you seem to be too successful in keeping your property in good shape)

Ba-ná ba-tï-dya kömû sipe, sëlëngë, mü-kïï, a-njïbö, li-pumo. CL-child IPF3PL-NEGOPT-eat not fish, peanuts, CL-eggs, CL-meat, CL-fruit. 19. The children are not to eat fish, peanuts, eggs, meat or fruit.

Bï-bï-dya súo tá a-kpüta. IPF.3PL-HAB-eat later just CL-cassava.leaves They will just eat cassava leaves.

Yö-kö-gbalïö kömû ba-ná ba-piní bo-sio tá akö a-ngbinga mü-ngana. 3SG-NEGPF-dure NEG CL-child CL-two HPF.3PL-die just at CL-period CL-one 20. It did not take long before both children died just at the same period.

A-kûû wö dhüka,ng-ïyë y-ö ba-ná ba-pë banî akö a-ngbinga mû-nganá, CL-top CL-of to.end DET-REL CL-of CL-child CL-QUANT INTER at CL-period CL-one 21. Regarding the passing away of that many children in one single period,

Ya-kya-ka b-ombí b-ö ï-kümbü kû ba-bomu bö-dya i-koko kisöbá. NPF..3SG-do-REP CL-man CL-of CL-village too CL-all PF.3PL-eat CL-sadness terrifying 22. It had caused all the villagers to go through intense and terrifying suffering.

Bo-bokúo-no-ko ati ïbô, HPF.3PL-ask-REC-REP among them They kept asking among themselves bö y-a-sï tá-nï akö ï-káa ng-ïyë y-ö Angakömû? Like CL-be-MODP just-INT at CL-house DET-REL CL-of No-Gain ? 23. Things like : ‘’What actually is the matter at that household of No-Gain?”

M-oí nô ba-ná kûtaa tá ma-wondi. Tîa ïmanï-sï yö-jangö a-nd-öngö? CL-woman ADD CL-child too just CL-need Now what-MODP CL.PF.3SG-miss at-his.place ? 24 .’’The wife and children in need. Now what could be missing in his place ?’’

Ambôgöbö tá dyakaka yï-tà bïbï, y-akö-yongo ï-káa ng-ïyë y-angö nô ba-kábú. While.actually just INF.feed CL-ADIM bad IPF3SG-disturb CL-house DET-REL CL-his ADD CL-sickness 25. While actually only the bad eating habits were disturbing the household, that one of his with sicknesses.

Ambis-öö húna ba-ná, kú dhö ba-to tà-ba-sï-e b-ö ï-kümbü After-RAF INF.bury CL-children then CL-person ADI-CL-finish-PTC CL-of CL-village 26. Directly after burying the children, the adults of the village ba-wól-io tîa u-bhua a-kûû w-ö y-aka ng-ïyë-nënï. NPF.3PL-sit-APL now CL-meeting at-atop CL-of CL-thing DET-CL-GIVEN had the people sit down for a meeting about that particular issue.

Kú.anani bö-püngö tîa a-nínjo ü-panü akö y-aka y-ö ïk ng-ïyë y-angö. Akö-sugo bö: Too. there HPF.3PL.start now INF-give CL-law at CL-thing CL-of house DET-CL CL-his PROG-say like 27. Therefore they started to give advice now about the issues particularly concerning his houshold, saying the following:

401 Angakömû ü-panü, ng-üwa w-ö pëï w-a bö m-oí i-dhudh-iso-sï ü-nötü NAME CL-law DET.REL CL-of before CL-be like CL-woman 3SG.OPT-calm-CAUS-MODP CL-delivery 28. ’’No-Gain, the first counsel is that a woman should first recover after a delivery.

Üwa w-ö bepíni w-a bö dyaka-ka, ng-ïyë y-înü y-ibio ido nögbë. REL CL-of second CL-be like eat-REP DET-REL CL-yours IPF3SG-OPT.be good extremely 29. The second is that eating habits, particularly your eating habits, should be excellent.

Dyaka-na-k-éni li-mbika l-ö mi-gbo l-ö ma-dyo li-bomu ngbanga-ngbanga INF.eat-REC-REP-IMP.PL CL-sort CL-of CL-kind CL-of CL-food CL-all like-REDUPLICATION 30. Keep eating food of all kind and of all sorts of various food,

ndû akê yo-sisékio-öö a-yokok-íso ndütü ido, ndû ma-dyo ng-üka: like ANAPH IPF.3SG-should-RAF INF.build-CAUS body good like CL-food DET-REL 31. as required to fortify your body well, like for example with the following food :

a-njïbö, li-pumo, lï-gbëë, lï-bügü, mü-pünga tá i-bomu. CL-meat, CL—fruit, CL-pumpkin, CL-banana, CL-rice just CL-all 32. meat, fruit, pumpkins, cooking bananas, rice, just everything.

Ü-panü ng-üwa w-ö bêétu w-a bö: y-angö(kö)mû ido CL-law DET-REL CL-of third CL-be like : CL-NEG not good 33. The third counsel is that it’s not good

akö-hata ma-gbë k-ö pëtana-ka. PROG-search CL-healerCL-of to.deceive.REP if you keep seeing unreliable healers (lit. healers of repetitious deceiving).

Joyo-pî tá m-ombí, ng-ïy-akê a-mbîa tëa y-ö töka ndütü, arrive.IMP.SG-MIT just CL-person DET-REL-ANAPH IPF.3SG-know work CL-of care body 34. Please go to a person who knows the work of taking care of the body,

mü-töka-na-ka pö mü-nganga. CL-care-REC-REP or CL-doctor (SW) to a nurse or a doctor .

Kú. anani, m-ombí w-ö kábú a-hêa-öö kábú, There.fore CL-person CL-of sickness IPF.3SG-heal-RAF sickness 35. Therefore this way a sick person will heal of his sickness

dhö ba-mü-töka kwïsü kû akö ï-ngbaa yë-ngö.” for IPF.3PL-OP3SG-take.care to.be.sick too at CL-road CL-LOGOPH because they will take care of his sickness along the appropriate way.

Kü.dhö Angakömû a-pünga kpata-ka nô kyana-nakïa Then NAME NPF.3SG-start follow-REP ADD do-REC-REDUP 36. When Mr. No-Gain had started to strictly follow

ma-panü kû ma-bomu, ng-üka-akê ba-mu-njo. CL-counsel too CL-all DET-REL-ANAP NPF.3PL-OP3SG-give the counsel by doing all those things they had prescribed him,

A-mbise ng-ïya-nanï dhüdhüa ya-kumonio akö ï-káa ng-ïyë y-ö Angakömû. CL-behind DET-REL-GIVEN. calmness HPFCL-3SG-enter at CL-house DET-REL CL-of Mr. No-Gain 37. after these things, calmness entered the household, the one of Mr. No-Gain.

Ndütü ng-ïyë y-ïbô yö-töa tîa kû manjanja, Body DET-REL CL-theirs CONS.3SG.exit now indeed beautiful 38. Then the appearances of those belonging to that household came out beautifully,

402 sökömû batá ïbô a-kwïsü-no-kíso nögbë. without again them to.sick-REC-REP-CAUS extremely without them getting seriously sick all the time.

U-dhuba ng-üwa w-ö Angakömû nô m-oí a-ngö Anguakebu, CL-story DET-REL CL-of NAME and CL-woman CL-his NAME 39. The meeting, the one of Mr. No-Gain and his wife In Vain, w-a nô îsü a-panïa ï-jangïa y-ö i-dyo CL-be with us to-show CL-value CL-of CL-food is showing us the importance of food

Akö u-bei w-ö m-ombí.Kü.banï yo-sisékio a-tunguo bö: for CL-life CL-of CL-person. Likewise PF.CL-3SG-need INF.think that : 40. for the life of a person. Therefore, the following question should be considered:

“Tá-kïa tá-nï, a-himbo kwïsü-no-k-íso yï-tà-büka-bükaï ?” IPF.1PL-do just-INT to-prevent be.sick-REC-REP-CAUS CL-ADIM-mean-REDUPL ‘’What will we do to prevent to keep getting ill with serious diseases? ’’

Akö ï-ngbaa, ng-ïyë y-ö dyaka-na-ka li-mbika l-ö mi-gbo y-ö ma-dyo kû dhidhidhi. At CL-road DET-REL CL-of eat-REC-REP CL-sort CL-of CL-kind CL-of CL-food indeed different. 41. It is by means of eating indeed different sorts and kinds of food on a regular basis.

Appendix 8.B: Glossed Budu Text 2 about Dysentery

înü b-aná bö ï-náa Uk-éni y-aká ng-ïyë na-n- înü a-sig-io. you CL-children CL-of CL-mother, listen- IMP.PL CL- matter DET-CL IPF.1SG-ADD-you INF-say-APL 1. You, children of mother, listen to the matter, which I want to declare to you,

Na-kï(ö)-nï-mb-ïa ma-bisi ma-bomu banî bö, IPF.1SG-HAB-OP2PL-inform-APL CL- days CL- all such as.follows: 2. All the time I keep informing you about the following:

Ya-mbü (kö)mû ido înü a-nï-mwa m-epo ko-ngw-eni tá a-lisíni. IPF3SG.be-NEGIR not good you INF-drink CL-water CL- come- COND just from-spring 3. "It wouldn't be good for you to drink water if it is coming directly from the spring."

dhö m-epo ng-üka ba-kyö-kü-tüka tá a-lisíni ka-kï(ö)kïa nô ba-tötö, For CL-water DET-CL IPF.3PL-HAB-OI-draw just from-spring IPF3PL-HAB-remain with CL-creatures 4. "Because water taken directly from the spring keeps its creatures."

dhö ü-gbaa wo-ney-eni mu-hingii wa-töpa ma-kaku. for CL-pouring.rain CL-pour-GERUND CL-erosion.ditch IPF3SG.PR-flow CL-dirt 5. Because, if the rain pours it overflows the ditch

nô ba-tötö kû ba-bomu wö-sa na-bô akö ï-kö. ADD CL-creature too CL-all IPF.3SG.go ADD-them at CL-source and the dirt with all kind of creatures goes into the source.

403

Ïmî nö-nïmwa jënê me-po ng-ükü-nanï mwa-nï. Me PF.1SG-drink past CL-water DET-CL-ANAPH drink-PTCPAS. 6. I personally drank such water before.

Ïyë nö-mwö ma-bisi ma-bomu nö-katanö kömû. When PF.1SG-drink CL-day CL-all PF.1SG-calm.down not When I drank it all the time, my body never calmed down.

ü-a ng-üba bü-sëmî k-ëta bö vu vu vu. CL-gut DET-CL CL-mine CL-cut like: IDEOPHONE. 7. My intestines felt like being cut (like HIUH- HIUH- HIUH; sound of long knife waving through the air).

Nö-sá aki atï mü-nganga kûö. PF.1SG-go there to at CL-doctor too 8. So when I went indeed to the doctor,

Nö-mü-ngak-ïa kü-öö ako-sugo bö: Na-nüka-na b-üa. PF.1SG-OP3SG-converse-APL too-RAF of PROG-say like: IPF.1SG-sense-REC CL-gut and as I talked with him saying like: “I sense my guts”,

Mü-nganga ö-kanga tibí ng-ükü-aka kü-sëmî CL-doctor PF.3SG-look(SW) stool DET-REL-ANAPH CL-mine 9. The doctor checked my stool test

Ö-tö-na mü-söngöö tà bülï a-matí ö bü-a ng-üba bü-sëmî PF.3SG-CONS-see CL-creature just strange CL-within of CL-gut DET-REL CL-mine after which he saw a strange creature.

A-na-njo bü-tî b-öngö, nö-mwö. HPF.3SG-me-give CL-medicine CL-LOGOPH PF.1SG-drink 10. After he gave me the medicine for it, I drank (it)

Na batá an(ö) ï-ngwa inani atî mü-nganga a-töa a-ndei, And again on CL-road there at CL-doctor to-return to-home 11. And (when I was) again on my way home, returning from the doctors (place),

No-bundo-no batá akö mü-chëchëë w-ö lisíni ng-üwü-nani. PF.1SG-break again at CL-brook CL-of river DET-CL-ANAPH 12. I arrived again at that particular brook of the river there,

Mü-hingii w-akï(ö)-chana-ka w-ö híngo. CL-erosion.ditch IPF3SG. IPF-HAB-pass-REP CL-of flow where the (rain in the) eroded ditch kept overflowing its (normal) flow.

404 Nö-tö-mwa batá kû m-epo ka-mbï-nï kömû ma-sï-ë, HPF.1SG-CONS-drink again too CL-water PF3PL-NEG-PTCPAS not CL-boil-PTC, Then I drank again water that was not boiled, anani nö-mwö batá kû mï-kïï y-ö mü-söngöö ng-ïy-ömö. Then HPF.1SG-drink again too CL-eggs CL-of CL-creature DET-CL-other as I drank it the eggs of more creatures entered (my intestines) again.

Na-nïsa nï-kwa ï-gyagya aki a-ndei ako-sugo bö:, HPF.1SG-INF-go INF-fall CL-joy here at-home PROG-say like 14. Once at home, I was overjoyed while I was saying:

Mï-söngöö yo-sio dhö nö-mwö bü-tï b-öngö tîa mwa-nï CL-worms CL.PF-die for PF.1SG-drink CL-medicine CL-LOGOPH now drink-PTC “The worms have surely died because I drank the appropriate medicine!”

Ambôgöbö tá nô b-isi ng-übü-nanï mï-söngöö yo-kumonio batá kü a-mbise. While.actually just at CL-day DET- REL-GIVEN CL-worms PF.CL-enter again also CL-behind 15. While actually, just that very day, the worms had entered (my intestines) again afterwards,

Mbise w-ö ma-kwaa bhîlï b-üa bu-bóto batá a-këta kïï kïï kïï behind CL-of CL-period short CL-guts PF.3PL-hold again to-cut IDEOPH 16. After a few days, my intestines cramped together to cut like “chacka-chacka!!” sóko mu ïmî nö-kwaa töö. without me CONS.1SG-fall sleep without me falling asleep.

Küdhö b-isi mû-nganá nö-tö-sïnganïa tîa batá kû mü-nganga. Then CL-day CL-one PF.1SG-CONS-challenge now again too CL-doctor 17. Then the following day I then also went to challenge the doctor again.

No-buk-íso ïyô mü-nganga bö, PF.1SG-ask-CAUS him CL-doctor like: I asked the doctor himself the following:

Ná-kïa tá-nï dhö b-üa ba-mbü (kö)mû nô ïmî a-dhüdhüa? IPF.1SG-do just-what for CL-gut CL-NEGIPF not with me to-calm 18. “What do I do now? For my intestines have not yet left me any peace?”

Dhö n-akö-a-nï-mwa bü-tï y-a For IPF.1SG-PROGR-to-INF-drink CL-medicin CL-be 19. “Because, drinking the medicine, ndû bü-tï ng-übü-nanï ba-mbü-mû nô ïmî a-künda andü nö-mwa-sï bü-tï, like CL-medicin DET-REL-ANAPH IPF3SG. NEGIPF-not ADD me INF-like if.IRR OPT.1SG-drink-MODP CL-med. it is as if that particular medicine suits me not me, as if I drank a medicine”,

405 Pôbö ba-mbü (kö)mû nô a-ngu dhö b-angö (kö)mû a-nï-wa mï-söngöö. Perhaps 3SG-IPF.NEGIR not ADD CL-power for CL.PR-NEG not to-INF-kill CL-worms 20. “perhaps one without any power, for it has not been (able) to kill the creatures”.

Küdhö tîa mü-nganga a-na-mbi-íso ïmî i-dhimi y-ö y-aka ng-ïyë. Then now CL-doctor NPF.3SG-OI-know-CAUS me CL-secret CL-of CL-thing DET-REL 21. The doctor then at that moment informed me personally about the secret behind this particular issue.

Ga mü-nganga nô ïmî bö Wo-künd-eni katana, na-na-sig-io bö: Say CL-doctor ADD me like IPF.2SG-like-COND calm-REC IPF.1SG-OP1SGsay-APL like 21. Says the doctor to me: “ If you want to calm down (your guts), I will tell you the following:

Sïa nï-mwa m-epo kü-tà-ma-bïsï-nï. Bö-bï-tük-éni súo Leave.IMPSG INF-drink CL-water CL-ADIM-CL-raw-PTCPAS IPF.3PL-HAB--draw-COND later 22. Stop drinking raw water. From now on, if people draw

m-epo ku-kput-iso-sï tá akö-dyalá dhö ndû wa-ku-kput-íso banî CL-water CL-boil-CAUS-MODP just at-fire for if IPF.2SG-CL-boil-CAUS like 23. water, let it first boil, just on the fire place, for when you will make it boil like that,

ba-tötö ng-üba ba-bio a-matí ö m-epo ba-sio sio-ní. CL-creatures DET-REL IPF.3PL-be at-inside of CL-water IPF.3PL-die die-PTCPAS 24. The particular creatures that are hidden in the water, will die entirely.

Wö-kyana-nakï-eni ü-panü ng-üwü-nani IPF.2SG-observe-RED-COND CL-law DET-REL-ANAPH 25. If you abide by these particular instructions, küdhö wá-na tá dhüdhüa a-matí ö b-üa. then IPF.2SG-see just calmness at-inside of CL-gut you will see nothing but calmness in your intestines.

Na-buk-íso mü-nganga aka bö Ingono ndû mü-nganga? HPF.1SG-greet-CAUS CL-doctor here like really like CL-doctor? 26. I then asked the doctor: Is that true, doctor?

Mü-nganga nô ïmî bö,Ii,ingono wö-kyananakï-eni CL-doctor ADD me like: Yes true IPF.2SG-do-REC-and-do-COND 27. The doctor told me: Yes, it is true, if you abide by

ü-panü ng-üwü-nanï wá-na tá dhüdhüa. CL-law DET-REL-ANAPH IPF.2SG-see just calmness these particular instructions, you will see nothing but calmness.

Ga ïmî aka bö, Ndû wo-sugo banî, na-kanio ti-si. Says me here like when PF.2SG-say such IPF.1SG-try now-MODP 28. Then I myself said: “When you say so, let me just try it out now.

406 Ndû ïmî na-kö ü-panü ng-üwa w-ö mü-nganga nö-pünga tîa nï-sïa m-epo. When I IPF1SG-hear CL-law DET-REL CL-of CL-doctor PF.1SG-start now INF-boil CL-water 29. When I heard these instructions of the doctor I started to boil water,

M-epo ng-üka-kê na-kyö mwën-ï ma-bisi ma-bomu CL-water DET-REL-ANAPH NPF.1SG-do drink-PTCA CL-day CL-all 30. the very water that I was drinking every time, was water

Ba-kö-sïa títa sïa-nï. IPF.3PL-HAB-boil just.now boil-PTCPAS That they were boiling just completely now.

Ïyë,na-pünga tîa nï-mwa m-epo ng-ükü tà ma-sï-ê When HPF.1SG-start now INF.drink CL-water DET-REL ADIM CL-boil-PTCA 31. When I started now to drink boiled water

Na nana tîa b-üa bü-kata-nï bö pisi. And PF.1SG-see now CL-gut CL-calm-PTCPAS like IDEOPH and I did sense my intestines calm down like Wow!

Batá a-nja ng-ïya-akê nö-kïö jënê: bö no-mw-eni m-epo Again CL-family ;kind DET-CL-ANAPH PF.1SG-did before Like PF.1SG-drink-GERUND CL-water 32. Again the kind of thing which I used to have before: that drinking (this) water, bü-a ba-na-këta bö vuvu, na-mbü-kyö-kana tii. CL-gut HPF.3PL-OP-cut like IDEOPH HPF.1SG-NEGIPF-do-feel any.more 33. my guts sensed like making cutting motions in me like HIUH- HIUH , I have not felt it any more.

Ba-mûnganga ba-kïö nakanga kû y-ômö tibí a-nï-na batá ba-tötö CL-doctor NPF.3PL-do look too CL-other stool to-INF-see again CL-creatures 34. The doctors checked other stool(test) as well looking for creatures again,

ndû üba bü-n-übü-na jënê, ba-mbü-kyö-bü-na tii. Like REL PF.3PL-OP1SG-3PL-see PAST, 3PL-NEGIPF-do -CL-see not.again 35. like they observed before. They never saw them again!

No-ní-sig-io bö, Ndû îsü nô înü ba-bomu tá-bio bö IPF.1SG-you-say-APL that: When us and you CL-all IPF.1PL-be like 36. I am informing you of the following: 40. When you and I, all of us, tö-sï-eni-nï, Nï-mwa m-epo ng-ükü ta-ma-bïsï-nï PF.1PL-leave- COND INF-drink CL-water DET-REL ADIM-CL-raw-PTCPAS will be stopping to drink unboiled water,

Na ïmî a-sugo bö, Hubo ma-a ndû ná-kyö-ku-hubo aka bö y-ango-bio. IPF.1SG-be me to-say like Complain CL-gut like IPF.2PL-do-CL-complain here that CL-NEG-be 41. I personally declare that: 42. -To complain about your intestines like I used to do, like this is over!

407 ma-a ka-nï-dhüdhüa-sï tá bö dhüü. CL-gut IPF3PL-OIHAB-calm-MODP just like IDEOPHONE For my intestines calmed down completely-

îsü nô înü ba-bomu tö-kpata-k-éni ü-panü We and you CL-all OPT.1PL-follow-REP-COND CL--law 43. We and you all, if we follow the instruction precisely,

ng-üwa w-ö mü-nganga wá-ti-njo kûö bü-hêa. DET-REL CL-of CL-doctor IPF.CL-OPHAB-give too CL-healing the one which the doctor gave, these will keep giving us healing as well.

No-ní-sig-io banî, m-ombí ng-iy-akê wa nô ma-chwei wö-ko. PF1SG-OP2PL-say-APL such, CL-person DET-REL-ANAPH 2SG.be ADD CL-ears CONS.2SG-hear 44. I told you this like that. The person who has ears you heard it.

Appendix 8.C: A Translated Budu Moral Advice123

Asëmbüe! hee ! ïmî, înaá Nëbhülü anani, nusoko mwaná ngïaka asëmï nayô aköpanïa üpanü, Assembly, listen, Me, Mrs. Nebholo here, I call my child to give her an advice, Opening ngüwa wosisékio gwatamoí akwanana wö akökïa á mbênï ngïa atö inye. that should be as follows: that a girl is to prefer to work inside with her mother. Gwatamoí mwaná asëmï, angö mû mombí, ngïakê bisi boyeni nekuba akwanana akönïmakanaka “My daughter, in the future be not a person that prefers to be wandering Address aköyaya bö gba gba gba gba! sókomu aköpemíso bö in vain…. just in vain… without remembering things like: warning ïnaü pëpë-sï ínga-ínga akökïa yáka ngino tánï. What is mom herself actually doing? Wanakanga-sï ïmî anü bö, ndû bisi bakyöya nekuba, During the following days, just consider me your mom, saying: înaá ngïa akasëmï akyökïa yáka nga ino tánï? Akyökïa ïmanï? “What is that mom of mine actually doing? What kind of thing is it? Tîa kû anani ïyë, ïmî nabio-öö ïmî mwaná,yáka ngïyë înaá ngïa asëmï ököyö akökïa, For when I used to be a child, (I considered) the things that my mother used to Good do, example ïmî nakpataka înaá akö yáka, ngïyë înaá ngïa asëmï ökïö akïa. I used to strictly follow her in things that my mom herself was doing. Yáka ngïïnënï ya nô ïmî akötüngbüa amatí ö bisi ngüba bö bübünï. The very words that she said, I still ponder them in my mind up till today. Mwaná asëmï, wökpatakeni yáka, ngïyë ïmî nakökïa, (Embedded My child, if you follow the things that I am doing, Advice) yáka ngïïnënï ya natüngbüa súo,amatí ö bisi ngüba banïka apëï. then it will be this very word that will remind you of me in the days to come: Gwatamoí angö mû m-ombí ngïa amakanaka anö ïngbaa. That a girl is not to be a person that wanders on the road. Bisi babüa súo nekuba wöchwëa makanaka anö ïngbaa kû yaya.

123 This moral advice was recorded on tape 29 text 12 Mrs. Nebolo June 1992.

408 You will leave the house some day - wandering is in vain. Gwatamoí angö mû m-ombí, ngïakê akpatanaka nô bú-gabégue. A girl is not to be a person, who follows the boys. Tëa ngïyë yangö ta tunguo, bö It only is her responsibility to consider : aka bisi böyö-öö nakökïa yáka nga ino ta-nï. ’’What kind of things will I be doing in the future ?’’ Bad example Ínaa, baná be boí ngübabömö bamakanaka tîa akö lïngbaa aki bö: Look, the children of other women wander now on the road like that. angö batá nô ïkyëmü ngïyë akïa ïyë yosisékio amatí ö ubéí ngüwa wangö. Not having any thing that should be done any more during her life. Gwatamoí ngïake ômö a tîa m-ombí ngïa akê á támba nô bú-gabégue That other girl is already now a person that plays with boys. angö batá bö akwananíso yáka. Not having anything anymore (to contribute) to her approval. Tîa kû anani wanïna baná be boí ngübabömö amatí ö ubéí ngüwa wö bübünï: Then indeed you’ll see the life of children of other women: what their life is like today. Ubéí wa nabö anïa dhö tánï? Dhö bangömû akönüka mapanü, What profit does life have for them? For they have not listened to the advice Ngükakê binye bê bö ba nabö aköpanïa. Ïbô akönïmakanaka nô kyëndanaka amutii wö mügyëndö. their mothers used to present them with, as they were constantly moving around in the centre of the village. Ïmî nana bö üwë mwaná sëmï banî bë: Me personally, I could see your life (developing) as follows, my child: Address Üwë,anakpata ta kû ïmî akö mïkyananakïa, You will follow me just like I did in all my actions. Promise ngïyë yïsëmï kû ibomu, ngïyë ïmî nabio akökïa. üwë, kïa kû banî. Everything I did, that I used to be doing, you, do it in like manner. dhö wökpatakeni banî, amatí ö ubéí ngawa wüsöö üwë wabio amatí ö majïö. For if you are following in like manner, you will experience peace in you own life. kü ndû ïmî anü na amatí ö majïö. Like me, your mom, I in like manner also experienced peace”.

409

Chapter 9. Summary and Conclusion

“Creative language use is not simply ornamental but is fundamentally purposeful. [ …] Studying large stretches of text in a corpus reinforces the case for viewing creativity as a social and discourse practice.” Carter (2004: 210) 9.0. Introduction

In this final chapter the research question is restated and some general conclusions about the discoveries are drawn. The chapter then concludes with a summary of this dissertation. The research question concerned the relationship between language use in modern genres and the existing patterns of co-occurrence as can be observed with an MD approach (Biber 1988; 1995),1 while the creative use of genre features was investigated as a possible change emerging from changed situations of language use. The continued use of Budu reported speech in the medical-information texts in chapter 8 is an example of the creative application of quotes as a structuring feature from the first dimension of variation in Budu. By means of introduction, some observations about the use of reported speech in English are made. These illustrate that this Budu metalinguistic function of reported speech is culturally- specific in its importance. This will at the same time introduce a general perspective from which the rest of this chapter is presented. Cross-culturally, the use of reported discourse provides a ‘poetic’ structure with a pervasive structuring of the text by repetition, including variation and omission. The renewed interest in such poetic language use in English audiovisual communication, for instance in advertisements, was noticed in applied linguistics (Virtanen and Halmari (2005) and in social studies of the genres used in the media (Merola 2006). Jacobson (1960) long ago remarked that one of the functions of language is to draw attention to the message by the form in which it is presented. This function, which Jacobson called the ‘poetic’ function, was “subsequently analysed in a variety of vernacular conversation and narrative forms (Hymes 1996; Tannen 1989)” (Collins 2001:150+6). Collins notices a renewed interest for ‘vernacular poetics’ that can be specified for American English as “the use of particularly recurring quotes and contrasting pronouns.” Collins observes an increased use of recurring quotes and contrasting pronouns, as he summarises his analysis of fifteen years of ‘educational reform discourse’ in the United States. The introduction of national educational standards is by now supported by a broad spectrum of liberal and conservative Americans, reflecting what Collins calls the new work order, where ‘workers collaborate closely with the management’ and the discourse attempts to involve all in an ongoing

1 Co-occurrences concern the clustering of forms in their distribution over the main genres of the researched corpus. This clustering reflects culturally-specific dimensions of communication that are distinguished in Budu society, as it does in Korean, Somali, Polynesian Nukulaelae and English (Biber 1995). It also determines what language use Budu speakers expect in a certain genre, and what expectations are played with in creative language use. Because the indigenous framework of clusters with its conventional language use leads to particular expectations regarding communicative intentions conveyed with a text, it may also be used to explain less desired connotations of acculturated language use that might give rise to creative modifications. Therefore a quantitative approach facilitating the postulation of patterns of co-occurrences seems to provide empirical data that are needed for the research of creative use of genre features, while the semantics of text-structural genre features, such as “key lexical items that structure texts,” seem to be of secondary importance for the expectations of language users, as Biber suggests (Biber, Conrad and Reppen 1998:123).

411 interaction, since ‘we all are equal partners” (Collins 2001:255). Similar developments can be observed in Europe, corresponding to similar economical changes, which are related by Collin to the development of a less hierarchically organised society.2 With regards to the remarks in section 8.6 about the development of literacy, it needs to be emphasised here that the development of an increasing conversationalism was observed in a Western culture that, at the same time, ‘maximally exploits the communicative resources of the written mode’, to use Biber's terminology. Text presentations that draw attention to the form, while their message consists of implied, rather than integrated information are popular in the Anglophone world. A renewed interest can be observed in the use of recurring quotes, contrasting pronouns and other ‘poetic’ means to package messages in fragmented pieces of information, from which the addressee is to infer implied messages. The analysis for this development suggested by Collins is that recurring quotes reflect the desired interaction in an egalitarian society. Equality can be suggested by conversationalism in a communication style that simulates interaction.3 In a non-hierarchical society all members are supposedly equally equipped to infer implied messages from fragmented pieces of information, as those who control information would like to suggest. In egalitarian societies an attempt is made to make information accessible to all members while the impression that some members have a monopoly position with regards to knowledge is carefully obscured to ‘remove offence.’4 This explains the tendency to provide quotes, fostering the idea that each individual has access to ‘sources.’5 The observed development of a Western ‘poetic’ communication style with fragmented, instead of integrated information seems to indicate that the development of literacy is not the only factor determining the development of genres of communication. Similarly the development of Budu literacy is not the only factor determining the language use in so called ‘literate’ genres, such as medical information. Two of the six factors determining language use variation in Budu concern solidarity. One is manifest in the fourth cluster, expressing attempts to involve the community. The other is manifest in the sixth cluster, expressing attempts to preserve the social personhood of society members that go through face-threatening transitions. Unlike the factor that Collins (2001:255) suggests for the development of ‘vernacular poetics’ in American English, the continued use of Budu reported speech in modern genres features the structuring of texts with a temporally-connective presentation of events. Its strong development as a distinction of text structure makes reported speech apt for structuring informational texts with case histories, as was illustrated in the sections 8.2.2 and 8.3.2. Although there are very different reasons for the use of reported speech in the Western languages of acculturation and in Budu, printed informational texts in Budu may develop to include a considerable amount of reported speech, just like the American textbooks mentioned by Collins about educational reform (2001) and the newspaper articles mentioned by Steen (2003) for Britain. In particular the status that the first reported speech in a story automatically gives to repeated collocations or to other acoustic signals makes it very apt for the integration of dramatic information in Budu.6 Finally the importance of a social organisation reflected in economic changes cannot be underrated. Collins’ Critical Discourse analysis of the changes in the Anglophone communication style illustrates, even if it is valid only in the slightest form, that a hierarchy or equality between members of a

2Apparently these changes are reflected in education and media, possibly as an attempt to obscure the inequality in the society by means of language use in a process referred to as ‘naturalisation’ in Critical Discourse Analysis. 3In line with the interpretation of Biber’s first dimension of English variation as involved vs. informational production, with speech introducing verbs as main feature of an “active verbal style” that characterises involved production, while present tense and first and second pronouns are important co-occurring features (Biber 1995:142). See for example Steen (2003) about the increased use of reported speech in newspaper reporting. 4An example in 2007 is the monopoly of Google. 5This can be compared to the remark of Collins 2001:248 about the American English use of quotes in all its vagueness. 6This was illustrated in the sections 7.2.1.6 and in appendix 5.B about reported speech.

412 society may affect their use of language.7 Since two main clusters of features manifest attempts to involve the community and to foster the social personhood of its members, the egalitarian organisation of Budu society, seems to indeed affect Budu language use. The egalitarian organisation was discussed briefly in relation to the use of witchcraft in 8.2.0. Such organisation needs to be taken into account as a possible factor for genre modification, especially as this arises in contact with literate models from less egalitarian societies.8 In the first half of this chapter conclusions are drawn in relation to the research question, while the second half provides a summary.

9.1 Conclusions

9.1.1 Continuation

One of the questions related to the main research question concerned the continuation of patterns of co- occurrence in modern genres of Budu. This regards genres that were shaped during a period of intensified contact with literate traditions in other cultures. Medical information and drama seem to represent the only genres in the researched corpus which are entirely new in Budu communication. For several reasons, I concentrated on medical information and its novelties in Budu society.9 The pattern of co-occurrence most clearly continued in medical information is the second dimension of variation in the researched corpus. This dimension was interpreted as the manifestation of the parameter for implicit vs. explicit information. Medical information can be interpreted as extremely explicit in its expression of information. The genre exploits the same linguistic features as other genres used for the transmission of knowledge.10 Another pattern of co- occurrence that is continued in medical information is represented by the fifth dimension of variation. It reflects spontaneous production and occurs in ghost stories, riddles, work order, animal stories and party songs. The genre exploits the same linguistic features as genres used with children to ensure clear communication, as in riddles, work instructions and animal stories. Patterns that are absent in medical information are related to temporally-connective presentation, directive communication, community involvement, and performative speech. Nevertheless, only the pattern reflecting community-involvement has a low frequency of occurrence of its features in medical information.11 Medical information apparently is one of the genres that expresses no attempts to involve the community; it rather reflects an individual expression and depends on features of face-to- face interaction rather than group involvement,12 while the thematic ordering of medical information with its many descriptions and long-term goal make the genre into a non-temporally-connective presentation of events with non-performative language use and non-directive utterances. With regard to continued patterns of language use, I will focus on medical information, since it is the clearest example of a new genre with continued patterns of language use. In chapter 8 both of the two innovative texts exploited reported speech to convey their main message. The language use in the

7The assumption that the organisation of a society might be reflected in the language use is held by more influential ethnolinguists, for example Bauman (1983), who illustrated this for seventeenth-century Quakers in England. These Quakers addressed each other with ‘thou’ in reaction to the English class society. 8Suffice it to refer to the work of Bourdieu to contend that the French society is hierarchically organised. 9The availability of tape-recorded, printed and handwritten texts representing Budu medical information and drama in combination with the documentation regarding medical care (Lyons 1992; Dubois 1932) and the use of drama in Congo (Fabian 1990) determined my focus on these two genres, whereas sermons and book-prefaces seem to be just as interesting. 10This can be observed in the genres of life stories, proverbs, cultural documentation, work orders and riddles. 11Note that co-occurrences of the other features do not exhibit altogether low frequencies in the genre. 12This can be observed in cultural information, drama, life stories, work orders and in riddles.

413 quotes was used to structure the main text in the same way that graphic devices or sound effects may be used in other modes.

9.1.2 Change

9.1.2.1 Operational changes

Another question related to the research question was whether genre modification can be explained as an attempt to facilitate the recognition of new prototypes in terms of resemblance with other genres distinguished for the same dimension of variation. Other means to increase the chances of its recognition as a prototype concern its saliency of language use or of its social function. Also its frequency (of use) may contribute to its recognition. 13 All these genre modifications represent operational changes, rendering new prototypes more ‘natural’ as genres of Budu language use. I will discuss this sub-question in relation to life stories, church songs; drama; parables and finally in relation to medical information. Life stories developed within particular church-related gatherings where members of different village churches get acquainted with one another. The sub-genre of nekpabi ‘testimony’ exhibits a considerable amount of names, dates, and years. In this respect the genre resembles the ítindí clan history genre of cultural documentation. The presentation of a common history and shared acquaintances may be purposely shaped as ítindí, reflecting a concern for the addressee(s) needs. The subgenre nekpabi is used only incidentally, it exploits no salient genre features and it functions in a predictable manner. Only a family resemblance to other information-genres facilitates recognition of nekpabi and other life stories as explicit information, while its lexical choice resembles that of ítindí texts of cultural documentation. Church songs resemble declarations to siblings, exchanged during celebrations with members of the same community, expressing shared community values. The use of performative features in these songs enhances a family resemblance with oaths & guarantees and circumcision songs. The saliency of the oath formula facilitates the recognition of this genre as performative communication, while church songs are used so frequently that this feature is soon integrated into the new prototype of church songs. Their function in community celebrations also contributes to their memorisation, since community celebrations are important in Budu society reflecting the fourth dimension of language use variation. Drama is the genre with the most negative distinctions for prepared production, reflecting its written production. Along with church songs it is the only genre that is nearly always memorised from a script. Like narrative genres, drama exploits word games including homophones, playing with multilingual situations in Budu society, as excerpts of the genre illustrated. This characteristic makes drama sound like traditional stories with their frequent word games, while for its structuring it depends, unlike stories, on information from the stage.14 The prestige of popular, nationally broadcast audio drama facilitates the recognition of genre-related language use in drama while it shares many features with satirical, non-epic plays in the rest of Africa. It seems that word games are exploited to make drama

13The development of prototypes were discussed in 1.6 with reference to Paltridge’s summary of the development of the notion of prototype (1997:1-29) Family resemblance is an important factor in the recognition of prototypes (Wittgenstein 1953 in Paltridge 1997:53). In reference to the resemblances between genres the family relationship between sets of genres was mentioned by Bergmann and Luckmann (1994:88). Aitchinson (in Paltridge 1997:56) mentions three main factors that facilitate the recognition of a prototype: frequency, salience and function. 14Carter (2004) nevertheless suggests that genres with collaborative creativity, such as chat rooms on the internet, are typically used to playfully explore the linguistic possibilities of the participants. This might apply for drama as well.

414 resemble other wisdom genres, thereby contributing to its use as a prototype, while the social function of Lingala and Swahili audio drama contributes to the development of prototypes in Budu. Similar to church songs and life stories, parables are used in church, explaining the church’s teaching in an allegorical sense, with a minimum of explanations. Parables were recently developed as sermons in line with the mapanü ‘advice’ of traditional clan elders bakumu. Parables represent a performative authority comparable to the language used in animal stories, although the presentation of events in parables is not necessarily distinguished as temporally connective. Parables exhibit plural forms that include the addressee in first person statements, characteristic of the harmonising, conflict-resolving concern that the speakers express while contributing to social continuity. At the same time the allegorical stories typically end with idiomatic expressions that enlarge their family resemblance with other well-prepared, performative genres. With regards to its frequency of use, the recurrence of pulpit speech in liturgical occasions engrains the prototypical language use of this new genre with members of the village church, while its social function is growing in importance as former social structures are weakened by urbanisation. Medical information is characterised as the transmission of knowledge. Information is specified by various linguistic features. This genre in Budu is the least developed in comparison to the other genres discussed in this section. It occurs outside the institutional setting of church meetings and often is limited to one-liners in the health clinic. Its language use exhibits ambiguity because up to now no adaptation of lessons from francophone medical training institutes has led to the development of one single prototype. These ambiguities were discussed in great detail in chapter 8. Most concern the intertextual gap caused by differences in setting, social role of the speaker and activity. The adjectives that are used in integrating information from French training exhibit social prestige since they are associated with paid jobs in a stratified society, such as that of the medical assistant in a hospital. At the same time they may represent face- threatening communication in egalitarian societies, as was discussed.15 Also the significant absence of vocatives in genres involving the transmission of knowledge confirms the impression that these genres were only used by older speakers, which is not necessarily the case with the theoretical knowledge in medical information. This gives rise to a tension that needs to be solved by manipulation. All genre modifications discussed in this section concerned automatic attempts to increase chances for the recognition of newly developed prototypes.

9.1.2.2 Manipulation

Although adjectives function as a feature of the transmission of knowledge, their use may be perceived as manipulation. In the first place, the continued index role of attributive adjectives for experienced speakers seems to make these features of explicit information less acceptable for use with statements that can not be verified. The speaker could use them in a ‘boasting’ manner, without actually knowing about the subject matter. The frequent use of adjectives in theoretical expositions could be a ‘face-threatening act’ representing a risk to the social personhood of the addressee. Information apparently needs to be made

15The frequency of adjectives in proverbs in relation to other older genres seems suggestive of their role as a social index of the experienced members of society who used this genre in palavers. Adjectives were only significantly used for the evaluation of social cases that came up during those meetings. A comparison with newer genres, such as life stories and medical information, clarifies that adjectives are now frequently used in other genres too; at least in these two newer genres. Therefore adjectives apparently started to function as features of the explicit presentation of information, because they co-occur with other forms that characterise older genres with this communicative dimension, such as work orders (no significant use of adjectives, but a tendency for adjectives be used). This new role of adjectives as features of explicit information never entirely replaces its former role indexing experienced community members that expressed evaluations during palavers. Use of the form conveys the personal stance of the speaker, while, from the perspective of Western education, they appear to function merely for the integration of information. The resulting ambiguity can be observed from the creative use of adjectives to scold age-mates, as in the drama-excerpt discussed in 8.0.

415 accessible to the addressees in an attempt to reduce this risk, as the unusual resort to case histories discussed in chapter 8 seems to suggest. In the second place the remark made in the excerpt discussed in 7.2.4.3 should be brought to mind, where it commented on boys that never attended the public teachings of the elders, ‘that such a person does not know anything.’ Being excluded from shared knowledge is a threat to one’s social personhood in egalitarian societies. Elders represent the most experienced persons only because they have accumulated knowledge over the years, not because they exclude addressees from any knowledge. In this respect the patrilineages of the Budu are basically different from the hierarchically organised societies of Central Sudanic people such as Mangbetu, Mamvu and Lese.16 In the third place, a related aspect of hierarchically organised societies is the different role of witchcraft. In egalitarian societies it is exploited as a strategy to minimize intravillage hostility (Grinker 1994:187), while in hierarchically organised societies individual specialists reign from their privileged position. Aunger observes that diviners with their food prescriptions play a more important role in Central Sudanic groups that have a more hierarchical organisation (1996:261). In Budu society diviners used to ensure the equal position of each community member by their references to the obscure powers of witchcraft that strike the non-conformist or ‘marked’ member of society. Prestige or paid jobs may therefore render individuals somehow vulnerable to witchcraft.17 The use of case histories and other allusions to personal experience could also be explained as manipulation, attempting to obscure a claim of knowledge about new facts by validating them with some evidence. The quotes from Collins about American English (above) are from an article where he also mentions the use of quotes in all their misleading vagueness (Collins 2001:248). As in American quotes, case histories could be used with a certain vagueness that obscures the absence of personal acquaintance with the subject matter in a manipulation of Budu language use to compensate for the undesirable effects of the frequent use of evaluations qualifying the speaker as expert. This explanation does not seem valid in the cases discussed in chapter 8. Commenting on these two possible cases of manipulation, the suspicion about these particular cases of language use is placed in a larger context. The double connotations attached to the frequent use of evaluations in Western-style education with its integrated information were observed in other African situations, where school genres are replicated because they give access to paid jobs or to prestige and authority. One of their features is the use of attributive adjectives to integrate knowledge. While the social prestige of attributive adjectives in French education is also described by Bloch (1998) for Madagascar, he also illustrates the use of this category by farmers who scold their cows in imitation of the unfriendly, top-down talk that government officials use towards them. In Madagascar evaluations are apparently in the first place associated with top-down communication, while expressions that integrate information or that display cognitive skills are, in themselves, not associated with school language or with tasks performed in class. Zafimaniry children in Madagascar were observed using a highly analytical indigenous genre while observing wild animals in the forest during their leisure time. This genre was entirely different from the language use they were taught in school to formulate their analytical observations (Bloch 1988:182). The latter apparently was not associated with analysis as such, although replicated when required for job applications with the government. The connotation of adjectives as a social index of the person who assumes the right to evaluate others in Madagascar seems stronger than the advantage of integrating information in a concise manner with adjectives, to

16For example the Mangbetu-Medje who have around 2000 members of one economic organisation that is hierarchically ordered into wives, slaves, clients (Schildkrout and Keim 1990:89). 17I once visited a sick person in hospital who had been poisoned somewhere on his journey back from receiving his secondary school diploma. He died three days later with burned intestines, as the doctor observed after autopsy. Physical poisoning and the effects of witchcraft are considered to be interrelated, I was told. As an explanation for the terrible fate that this person suffered I was told that obtaining a diploma could have been a factor arousing the envy of jealous members of the community. His poison had been mixed with the beer he drank in celebration of his success.

416 focus on this specific example. Both Budu and Madagashi examples illustrate the importance of the indigenous perspective from which the use of evaluations might be suspected to manipulate others. Another third genre modification that can be explained as manipulation concerns the use of performative language embedded in explicit information. In Budu, knowledge tends to be transmitted with descriptive language specifying various aspects of previously unknown information. The second cluster of co-occurrence, featuring explicit information, is remarkably absent in performative language use. Explicit information contains descriptions of changes or procedures; while performative language is used for accomplishing changes in the addressees with expressions from the sixth cluster of co- occurrence. Nevertheless, the medical-information texts in chapter 8 creatively exploit performative language. In chapter 8, this creative language use was explained as an attempt to express the urgency of the subject, in analogy to the form of moral advices and reproaches, where the co-occurrence of directive and explicit language conveys that the speaker expects an immediate reaction. Apart from this urgency the performative decrees convey a certain authority by their institutional setting. With the authority of a doctor’s decree or a village-elders’ council the text is more likely to be considered as serious matter. This emphasis on the serious tone of communication was interpreted as the counterbalance required by the unusual light and entertaining use of storytelling for conveying medical information. A third explanation for the use of performative decrees embedded in an acculturated genre such as medical information is that it merely reflects the indigenous perspective on doctors and their speech in terms of older and comparable institutions in Budu society. Because existing social structures and related language use were cultivated for centuries, this cultivated language use did not stop with the introduction of acculturating techniques. Budu would not be the only language group where the expectations that are related to existing social structures are associated with the use of literate genres. Kulick and Stroud (1995) describe how the use of literacy in Papua New Guinea is associated with the cargo cult and its ideas about the well-being of the soul. Their description of the perceived role of writing in PNG villages is very similar to the observations that Mwene-Batende (1982) makes about the first reactions to the use of print in the Kitawala movement among the Bantu group Komo.18 The use of print in these views is associated with a general well-being, including the material goods literate people brought to the country. Evans-Pritchard observed a similar assumption about the magic role of script with a Zande person whom he interviewed in Congo. This person compared the use of a written note to the use of oracles that reveal some hidden knowledge (Evans-Prichard 1963:39 in Grootaers 1996:301). Grootaers makes a similar observation about his interviews with Zande persons, and quotes a Protestant convert saying that missionaries ‘‘only had to make ‘a few scratchings’ on paper instead of working, to obtain all the goods they wanted – for themselves.’’ In all these cases literacy is seen as instrumental to wealth and therefore considered as ‘’a power that connects’’ the Zande for instance (to quote Grootaers 1996:301) ‘’with the wider world, to become like it.”19 The Congolese cases of the Komo and Zande reveal that in the indigenous view of these cultures printed messages are somehow related to specialists who reveal secrets with the help of supernatural revelation. The social purposes attached to language by the Zande and Komo users quoted indicate that the organisation of power and the transmission of knowledge remained basically the same as in the society that existed before, where only diviners had access to hidden knowledge. In the case of Budu such a role of specialists seems to be discontinued rather than continued. Evidence

18Located near Kisangani in the Democratic Republic of Congo, the Kitawala represented an interethnic group of Congolese Jehovah’s Witnesses named after the Watch ‘Tower’ Movement called tawaa prefixed ki- = ki-tawala with intervocalic –l- in analogy to Swahili nouns like tala ‘hour.’ 19Literacy has this “potency to extend Zande society beyond its geographical and temporal limits. [ ] yet at the same time the ability to write and read brings the outside to the Zande [ ] God speaks directly to the Zande.’’ The last remark comments on the movement of prophetesses, which Grootaers describes as one the reactions of the Zande to modernity, (Grootaers 1996:301).

417 for a dramatical shift of secret knowledge owned by specialists with a monopoly position towards accessible knowledge about primary health care can be found in the similarities observed between transmission of knowledge and medical information. Like work orders including recipes, travel instructions and palm tree climbing instructions, information concerning the prevention of amoebic dysentery is accessible to anybody. It seems unlikely that the use of performative language or embedded decrees is a structural innovation in medical information that will be continued. However, as suggested by the emphasized doctor’s secret and by the detailed nurse-diviner contrast in the medical texts, unknown information used to be the monopoly of specialists who were feared just because they could abuse their knowledge by exercising power and demanding favours. It can be concluded from this lexical emphasis that the new prototype for language use dealing with health issues is established in contrast to such secrecy, while, at the same time, some performative aspects of the communication are evoked by related patterns of language use. The third possible explanation is therefore rejected here, since doctors and nurses are not actually continuing the privileged position of diviners; instead they continue the role of experienced relatives who share information about their skills. This does not exclude their exploitation of performative language use alluding to the impact that these same authorities had. In fact this represents a considerable manipulation of the addressee, because the lexico-semantic features of the language convey a radical break with the obscure diagnosis from traditional healers and their institutions. At an operational level it shows that addressees can be manipulated by co-occurrences that subconsciously suggest authority while, at the level of text structure and word meaning they are made aware of the authors’ diametrically opposed position to obscure authorities who monopolise obscure knowledge. This extreme contrast gives evidence of Östman’s implicit anchoring (2005) as it seems to be operating in Budu at the level of patterns of co-occurrence. The authority of the old social role of diviner is anchored in the co-occurrences of performative features, while at the same time semantic and lexical features reject his authority.20

9.1.3 Indigenous Factors for Change

One of the questions related to change concerned the identification of possible indigenous factors that seem to determine changes in language use including creative modifications of the prototypical form of new genres. The main factors for the genre modifications discussed so far seem to be related to the in- group solidarity and related politeness strategies expressed in the fourth and sixth cluster. It is not surprising that a society in rapid transition towards social stratification by the introduction of paid jobs emphasises solidarity between its members and a concern to prevent any member from losing the dignity of their social personhood. Therefore most genre modifications seem to relate to face-saving strategies or to the expression of solidarity. The increased use of adjectives can be explained as an increased need to ‘prove’ theoretical knowledge with personal acquaintance in the form of evaluatory expressions. Community members who claim to know more than others seem to represent a risk for loss of face. To reduce this risk, speakers are observed to make their knowledge accessible to others by references to observed facts and by deducible evaluations. By formulations with explicit information every interested person may verify whether the statements of a ‘teacher’ are valid or not. The indigenous factor behind the need for proofs of validity is the solidarity that is maintained in the egalitarian nature of Budu society with its emphasis on the face-threatening aspects of monopolies of power and knowledge.

20The malnutrition text rejects the role of diviners in health issues by the contrast that is developed between traditional healers and medical personnel, while the dysentery texts rejects them by a contrast that is implied between a doctor that ‘reveals a secret,’ and assumed diviners who keep secrets.

418 Similarly oath vocatives seem to have been integrated into the cluster of performative features to pledge allegiance to the addressees or to make joined statements accomplishing social changes in an institutional setting. The use of oath formulas, which feature embedded guarantees, once marked very special occasions. This is just one aspect of the language use that is rendering church-related genres similar to former institutional speech, possibly reflecting the historical shift of the preponderance of the village community towards the church community and in particular of the concerns these modern genres continue to express regarding social dignity as manifested in former genres with performative language use. It might also reflect the efforts of various founders of the church, who with their language use were connecting their new speech with existing social structures by adapting their language use, be it in ‘unconscious ways,’ in terms of Gidden's (1984). In section 1.4 the remark was made that emerging patterns of meaning reflect the social structure in which they are produced. One level at which adjustments are made is the ‘unconscious social self,’ which is fostered through routinisation to develop ontological security and preserve the face of others (Giddens 1984:50). Language use reflects the culturally specific ways in which face-threatening situations are handled. This cultural ‘structuration’ as Gidden’s calls it is influential as an indigenous factor of language change, since it concerns the entire society. Next to solidarity the preserving of each member’s social dignity seems an important factor for the increased application of performative features such as the oath vocative.

9.1.4 Viability

The final questions formulated in the research question concerned the nature of language use that is altered by the creative use of genre features. In particular the question of whether altered patterns of medical information are viable as possible conventions to be adopted in terms of Crofts (2000) propagation is of interest. If the innovations described in chapter 8 are adopted they will be replicated by other Budu speakers leading to change. This question can be rephrased as whether genres with modifications will be continued as such, including the altered meaning that is conveyed. Altered replication may develop into differentiated replication of existing conventions if modified genres continue to be used with this same intent. In the discussion two different medical texts were examined. These texts are very different in their formulation and function. Despite their differences both texts through their unusual resort to a temporally-connective presentation of events, conveyed more than mere distraction or entertainment. Among other things, they both stress the urgency of their message. Although the authors have expressed themselves with language that usually describes rather than tackles problems, they stress the changes that they want their stories to accomplish by using performative features underlining their main message. This mix of medical information with performative language use could be explained as ‘naturalisation’ of performative language use by pastors and medical workers (Fairclough 1989). In other words, these new social positions may assume a role once associated with performative roles, such as the traditional healer and the village council of elders (including the chief). The use of performative features in an ‘innocent’ entertaining story could be obscuring the naturalisation of performative language use by pastors and medical workers, to make the allusions to certain authorities less obvious. As in advertisements, where persuasion is obscured in similar ways, this obscuring does not reduce the effect of performative language use, associated as it is with the power to accomplish changes. The resort to storytelling devices in combination with performative language use may be a lasting development that is continued in the future transmission of knowledge. If it is related to the naturalisation of new social roles, including language use by church workers and medical workers, this language use will continue being used to characterise only their role and it will not be replicated by other groups. If it is related to the transmission of information in general, it will be exploited for a successful transmission of knowledge in future literacy classes in Budu to fill the gap as illustrated by figure 8.E.

419 Another aspect common to both texts is that particular features either imply or iconically refer to shared knowledge, such as the handling of deceit or the symptoms of amoebic dysentery. Both the genre marker of trickster stories and the use of ideophones are exploited to activate more comprehensive concepts from the shared culture of the audience. This integration of knowledge seems to serve the explanation of new knowledge. Similar to dramatical information that leads to the plot’s development in storytelling, the implied information in these medical texts contributes to the message with which the authors address cultural issues that need to be discussed before new information can be accepted. While the texts discussed in chapter 8 are similar in this respect, this may indicate the effectiveness of the combination of explicit information with implied, shared knowledge. It may also illustrate the communicative skills of the particular authors. Since there are only two texts to illustrate this creative combination, it remains to be researched whether this genre modification will be continued in new prototypes for urgent messages. The development of a detailed medical network in which one of the authors operated in recent years may contribute to the frequent use of altered replications, while the network of the responsible pastor of text two is a factor as well.21 In contrast to the two former observations, the significant occurrence of adjectives and oath vocatives in several new genres indicates their replication as feature, which is different from their role as a social index in the previously existing genres. Likewise, the indices of performative social roles, such as have been fulfilled by the diviner or the village elder, may start to function as feature of urgent information. In that case they no longer represent particularly creative language use, as they did in the two medical texts discussed in chapter 8. The use of performative features in an exposition may then have been naturalised as a feature of a new genre that conveys the urgency of some new knowledge. In that case a differentiated replication has developed, as with adjectives. The dynamics involved in the creative usages of genre features contributes to the development of new ways for the transmission of knowledge in Budu while exploiting its cultural heritage to its full extent. This observation seems more important than determining which groups might have manipulated the language use for their own interest, since it shows that the language is alive and changing.22

9.1.5 Future Research

I believe that this research contributes to the investigation of various criteria for natural language use. Natural language use and the importance of definng it accurately were mentioned in the first chapter. In translation and other areas of applied linguistics the naturalness of language is used as the main criterion for evaluating the quality of translated texts or texts produced by second language learners. All the same, an exact definition of natural language use, with reference to empirical research cannot be found in the existing literature. Creative language use is natural, which makes it very hard to pin-point the borders of natural language use, as creativity may involve unpredictable utterances. In this research I have set out to analyse creativity as a variation of conventional language use. I thereby sought to make use of the expectations of language users, in particular their intuitions that certain features co-occur in the various genres of the language. Because creative language use exploits the element of surprise, any patterns of language use anticipated in specific situations or genres need to be defined before determining the nature of creative language use. For example, the use of storytelling with community-involvement is unusual in Budu texts with explicit information. Its marked and unexpected nature results in a dynamic that can be explained in relation to the normal patterns for explicit information. The analysis of these dynamics relies on the conventional patterns used for the transmission of knowledge. Apparently the speaker of the dysentery text, for instance, wants to package

21At the moment of writing this dissertation the medical programme of non-profit aid organisation Medair covered 12 health zones, offering drugs at 340 health centres and HIV tests at 42 health clinics. See footnote 51 in chapter 8. 22Budu therefore provides the possibility to any of its speakers to use it.

420 his direct message of avoiding polluted water in a story illustrating the effect of the consumption of unboiled water on the intestines. The natural attempt for presenting personal experiences along with theoretical statements results in unconventional, creative language use that is however, no less natural. The methodology enabled me to explain some effects of creative language use in relation to indigenous factors of conventional patterns of language use. The use of ideophones in a case history that is presenting explicit information involves the audience since it alludes to the community-involved communication that fourth-cluster forms in Budu express, while it also summarises the symptoms of the explained disease very concisely, characteristic for explicit information. It seems to be erroneous to disregard this unconventional use of ideophones as unnatural. As the situation of language use changes this leads to needs that are addressed creatively by emerging innovations. These creative innovations relate to the changed situation of language use, while they arise within the existing dimensions of communication. The needs that are addressed by innovations were also illustrated in an excerpt of drama with its caricatured language use. This caricature apparently indicates the same tensions as were observed with an MD approach. Some genres display an intertextual gap with previous genres that are distinguished for the same dimension of variation. In that case the use of creative language that bridges such gaps is only natural. Natural language use seems to include such ‘reparations.’ More specified it includes ways of ‘repairing’ the less socially-acceptable innovations that language users perceive in the language use they are exposed to. If particular strategies for ‘reparation’ are replicated by various language users, this gives an indication of the need for the modification of less acceptable expressions. If various creative genre modifications can be observed with similar ‘reparation strategies,’ suggestive of the development of a new prototype, future research should focus on the analysis of these cases in relation to conventional patterns of co-occurrence as can be established by MD approaches to variation. A comparison of such creative language use might indicate the intertextual gaps that a creative user apparently attempts to solve with a more natural language use than the acculturated alternative. Hopefully future investigations of what entails ‘natural language use’ will include the interpretation of creative innovations as possible continuations of conventional patterns of language use, since that seems more fruitful than focusing on conventional patterns in either the first language or in the acculturating language representing literate model genres. It seems important to notice that literate models in fact are only perceived from the perspective of the indigenous factors of communication that determine language use variation, including the selection of novelties that might be adopted.

9.2. Summary

Chapter 1 –Creative Use of Genre Features, Introduction

In this dissertation the creative use of genre features is researched in Budu, a Bantu language in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Creative language use is discussed with a focus on innovation and change. A combination of several theories concerning genre23 and concerning language use variation (Biber 1988; 1995) facilitates comparisons between creative language use and conventional patterns of communication. Biber’s work emphasises the importance of co-occurrences of linguistic features and their shared distribution in large text corpora. These form the empirical basis for postulating dimensions of communication that determine language use variation.

23Gumperz (1982); Bakthin (1981; 1986); Hanks (1986); Bauman and Briggs (1992); Bauman (2001); (Berkenkotter and Huckin (1995); Miller 1984; Giddens (1984); Paltridge (1999); Halmari and Virtanen (2005) and Östman (2005).

421 While Biber’s dynamic genre categories are situation-bound, his MD approach assumes some prototypical text types that are characterised by formal linguistic features. Mature speakers of a language use these prototypes as cognitive points of reference while interpreting real language use. Biber (1995) and Romaine (1994) assume that literate model genres may influence the development of genres in languages with an emerging literacy. My main question is whether the creative use of genre features may be interpreted in relation to conventional patterns of language use, or more specifically whether innovations may be interpreted as possible continuations of existing patterns. A theoretical problem with a similar interpretation in MD approaches is that genre features normally co-occur with other features. The use of a feature by itself has no function comparable to its function in patterns of co-occurrence, where prototypes can apparently be activated by the presence of various members of the same cluster in one text. In psychology it has been established24 that a partial representation of prototypes may activate a mental representation of the entire frame. Östman (2005) illustrated the intentional obscuring of parts of collocations in texts for manipulation of the addressees. In fact he illustrates that partially represented frames are used in attempts to activate ‘persuasion’ in the minds of readers of propaganda. I argue that his suggestion can also be applied to the creative use of single genre features since I use Östman's theory of ‘implicit anchoring’ with Biber’s patterns of co-occurrence. When some features of such patterns of co-occurrence are creatively used in texts in allusion to a different prototype than the one being presented in the text, this can be interpreted as ‘implicit anchoring’ of the dimension of communication that is featured. The creative use of linguistic units for individual goals can be an important arena for language change (Biber 1994:27). Assuming that the creative use of single members of Biber’s clusters may occur, the question that remains to be answered concerning Budu is what dimension of communication could be ‘implicitly anchored’ in texts with creative language use and why this could be the case.25

Chapter 2 – The Community of Budu Speakers

Language change is understood in this dissertation as introduced by Crofts (2001 ch. 7). When existing language use is ‘replicated’ differently, an ‘altered’ meaning may develop. This altered replication only develops a ‘differentiated meaning’ when all users of a language adopt it as their norm. This language change or ‘propagation’ consists of the ‘differentiated replication’ of some language use. In the past the Budu network of language users was not very open to external influences and its situations of language use remained virtually unchanged. Their political organisation in co-belligerent lineages and their economic autonomy as palm oil and salt manufacturers fostered a strong development of conventions for language use. In contrast to most surrounding groups the Budu were never integrated in the Zande and Mangbetu kingdoms and unlike subsistence farmers they did not develop client-patron relations with Pygmies either. Therefore their network was not very open to cross- cultural influences other than musical exchanges and trade. Strong patterns of co-occurrence developed fixed metalinguistic functions featuring particular dimensions of communication. Unconventional language use is only replicated by more members of the same community if its altered meaning makes sense in a particular social context. When the situations of language use of a closed network of language users remains virtually unchanged, altered meanings risk being ignored as irrelevant.

24Bartlett 1932 introduced the notion of mental ‘frames’ or ‘schemata’; Rosch 1977 developed them as ‘prototypes,’ as Paltridge summarises it (1997:53). 25Virtanen and Halmari refer to euphemism and persuasion, (2005:231), suggesting that socially less desirable communicative goals tend to be veiled by creative language. In analogy one could ask the question: “What socially less desirable goals could Budu speakers want to veil?”

422 However, from 1885 onwards the invasions by Zanzibari slave traders in the Wamba district, military expeditions and agricultural exploitation of the extremely fertile area seems to have weakened existing structures of religio-political leadership. In the 1920s the health services of the Red Cross and the introduction of Mission schools and services in the area represented a transition to a socially stratified society with paid specialists. Social concerns started to be centralised in new institutions such as the church. In the 1940s the development of new denominational networks went hand in hand with the establishing of an infrastructure for the transport of cash crops, opening the network and exposing Budu speakers to variations of language use, including external influences of the acculturating institutions of school and hospital. By the 1990s the situations of language use had changed drastically, new conventions had developed and were adopted throughout the extended network of Budu speakers. Altered meanings might start to be replicated as relevant alternatives, resulting in the same utterances with a differentiated meaning. Only when an entire community considers the differentiated meaning as the ‘normal’ meaning of the utterance, has a change of language use taken place according to Crofts’ (2000) definition of ‘propagation.’ While Vansina (1990) and Aunger (1996) mention the exceptional openness to change of the Budu in relation to the end of former traditions,26 this research attempts to investigate indigenous factors that contributed to changes as they can be observed from the dimensions of communication that determine language use variation in the researched corpus.

Chapter 3 – Elements of Language Use; a Sketch of Budu

Budu is a Bantu language with two particular features that characterise it as a so called border Bantu or Forest Bantu (D) language (Grégoire 2003:343): it has special phonological properties such as vowel harmony throughout phonological words and rising tone while it also tends to have a lexical rather than morpho-syntactic TMA marking. Several characteristics contribute to the possibility of tagging the recurring morpho-syntactic categories in texts. Since the root of each word determines its pronunciation in terms of Advanced Tongue Root value, the vowel quality contributes to the recognition of boundaries between phonological words. Lexical TMA distinctions are also very helpful since the varieties of tonal melodies in each lineage make the observing of syntactic TMA differences that are indicated with High and Low tones impossible in a large corpus. Rising tone is conditioned phonologically by depressor consonants in earlier stages of the language, contributing to the difficulties in observing tonal differentiation. The lexicon of Budu exhibits loanwords from Mangbetu, Swahili and French, confirming its canonical CVCV word structure with labio-velar and prenasalised consonants, while it also indicates the particular domains of acculturation. Budu seems to have adopted the pairing of nominal classes 5/11 from Bangala while it also exhibits li- prefixes, comparable with the Lingala class 10 prefixes. Budu is a clear example of a Bantu language that, being surrounded by other language families, adopted some of their lexical and phonological features while its noun class system and verb derivation continues to exhibit all core characteristics of Bantu languages including agreement. This facilitated the tagging of texts.

Chapter 4 –Relations between Genre and Use of Linguistic Forms

A hundred recurring morpho-syntactic categories were selected for the tagging of a corpus of 417 texts representing 16 main genres and 14 embedded genres with reported speech.

26Vansina even assumes the tradition to be ‘dead’ as result of external forces, while Aunger only refers to the reduced importance of witchcraft traditions in urbanised centres.

423 A list of all forms tagged in the preliminary research was presented in chapter 4, while a discussion of this list clarified the reasons for disregarding some of these forms as less suitable. Formal differences are the basis for differentiating between the different forms, with an exceptional reference to the sentence position of words in case of homophones. A list of all the main genres that occur in the labelling of transcribed texts by Budu speakers was also discussed, including remarks about the nature of these genre categories in the researched corpus and in Budu society, as observed during my stay in the area between 1995 and 1998. A mini-corpus of fourteen embedded genres with reported speech was presented as these genre names were used during my discussion of some thirty texts with a group of Budu speakers in 1998. The mini-corpus contains all the reported speech fragments. The main corpus and the mini-corpus were researched with separate quantitative tests, as if each of them consisted of autonomous texts. The selected statistical tests determine the distribution of each form in each genre, as this rather than factor analyses provides insights about the expectations of the language users that are subject of creative language use.

Chapter 5 - Conventional Language Use in the Main Genres

The relation between linguistic forms and genres of language use was described in two parts of this chapter, where shared distributions of co-occurrences are discussed after an overview of all the results of a quantitive research. First, a correlation matrix was discussed for each of the hundred tagged forms, resulting in the conclusion that eighteen forms are used throughout the entire corpus without distinction. Second, about sixty forms exhibit a distribution with various clusters of co-occurrence. The particular property of six clusters is their complementary distribution. Each of them can be observed as distinguishing two sets of genres with contrasting communicative dimensions. For example the cluster that entails most co-occurrences, seems to distinguish story genres from song genres, while it seems to reflect a narrative dimension of communication as it expresses chronological ordering. It is worth noting that this cluster exhibits a significant absence of forms that describe qualities, while reported speech is used to structure the text. The second important cluster divides the corpus into explicitly presented information and genres with implicit information. Likewise, each cluster divides the genres of the corpus into two sets with complementary distribution of a particular cluster of forms. The third cluster expresses urgent appeals for a reaction with its directive language use, the fourth expresses attempts to involve the audience with expressions that assume shared knowledge such as ideophones, the fifth is related to the production circumstances since it concerns redundancy, the sixth expresses almost all politeness strategies mentioned by Brown and Levinson (1978) as language use reducing face-threatening situations. The distinctive function of these clusters is interpreted in the first place by considering the function most widely shared by its forms. Chapter 5 represents the first of two steps, of which the second involves the similarities and differences between the genres in each set (see chapter 7).

Chapter 6 - Conventional Language Use in Embedded Genres

The relation between linguistic forms and embedded fragments with reported speech genres was discussed in comment on four overviews in this chapter. Reported speech is important since it conveys which genre the reported speaker is using in a particular sequence of events. Paralinguistic devices seem mostly to be used to facilitate genre recognition. Firstly there is a group of genre markers which seem to occur solely in certain speech genres. Several are also significant for the language use in the main genre, which means that their frequency of

424 occurrence in speech fragments determines the language use of the main genre. Second, about as many forms distinguish speech genres from each other, most of these also determine the language use in the main genre. The embedded speech genres seem to form clearly distinguished prototypical categories, although a remnant group of distinctions occurs occasionally in all embedded genres, whereas a fourth group is without significance for the speech genres, since it occurs too rarely. All these results provide insights regarding language use in embedded genres. Reported-speech genres tend to contrast with main genres. While most main genres containing reported speech concern storytelling genres, genres with reported speech tend to be characterised as the opposite, namely as non-temporally connective. Furthermore the language use is less elaborate than in most autonomous genres (with the exception of genealogies), reflecting their iconic reference to natural, unreported speech. The iconic nature of speech fragments seems to be an important indication of the possibility of manipulating language in caricatures of natural speech, amplifying its genre distinctions. The frequent use of reported speech indicates that Budu speakers are used to playing with genre features, as Barber (1989) suggest for other African languages.

Chapter 7 – Six Main Parameters of Language Use in Budu

Following from the description of the conventional use of linguistic forms in the main and embedded genres, this chapter continues with the interpretation of the six main clusters themselves. The second step in interpreting the distinctive function of the six clusters of co-occurring forms in the main genres is a contrastive analysis of the sets of genres distinguished by each of the clusters. Each cluster is interpreted as a dimension of communication, whose nature is deduced from the similarities and differences between the genres in those sets. In the second dimension the explicit presentation in genres for the transmission of knowledge seems to be associated with traditional Budu-style mentoring, where experienced relatives teach younger ones, which the absence of polite vocatives still reflects. In contrast, the presentation of implicit information seems to convey shared knowledge that may consist of complex cultural issues. About the fifth dimension, redundancy is apparently purposely exploited in some genres used with young or ignorant addressees. Therefore the parameter behind the contrast spontaneously produced/ prepared production seems to be more complex than just the circumstances of production. In contrast to other languages where variation was researched with MD analyses (Biber 1995), the community seems to play an important role in Budu, both in celebrations where the fourth dimension expresses involvement and in the sixth dimension with performative language use. The sixth dimension of performative language seems to be used to accomplish changes for community members in transition, such as circumcision or marriage. The expressions suggest a concern for the social dignity of such members. Non-performative language does not accomplish anything, although it may describe changes. In the second half of the chapter all text types with their formal features are described. In the light of social changes it is noteworthy that school language and medical information are expressed in Budu in the same way as any other genre with transmission of knowledge. Unlike French schooling with its group sessions in classes, this transmission is not institutionalised in Budu society which favours private mentoring. In contrast, church-related genres are institutionalised by the use of performative features, which make them similar to circumcision songs, animal stories and other Budu institutions that express concern for the social personhood of its members. The capacity of church- related genres to involve the community when the social cohesion of village communities was weakened probably made it relevant during this period in history. It explains the relevance of changed language use in a new social context.

425 Chapter 8 – The Creative use of Genre Features

In this chapter conventional patterns of language use including newer genres are discussed, then some texts that exhibit deviating language use are analysed. The creative language use in the two medical texts in this chapter exhibits several similarities. That might suggest that it represents some strategy, which arose in answer to changed situations for language use with the transmission of knowledge. Fairclough (1989) suggests that ‘mixed’ language use may indicate attempts to naturalise new ways of speaking during a time of transition and confusion. Such a period seems to be represented in the development of medical care in the Wamba district, as discussed in section 8.1.2. A comparison of the different genres used in the transmission of knowledge suggests what Bauman and Briggs 1992; and Bauman (2001) would call intertextual gap, namely between older and newer genres in Budu. I used three points of comparison suggested in New Rethorics (Miller 1994, Mayes 2003) to discuss where medical information is dissimilar from previous information genres. As suggested by Halmari and Virtanen (2005) these gaps are bridged in what they call an ‘intergenre’ with the innovative use of features as illustrated in the two medical texts. Although the two medical texts, are in several respects, considerably different, their similarities suggest that a felt need is answered by more overt allusions to personal acquaintance with the subject matter than are usually displayed in theoretical expositions, because in both texts a full case history is included. The use of attributive adjectives provides a much less overt allusion to experience, as these tend to be used to identify experienced members of the community in palavers since their short and witty speech is interspersed with adjectives. However, their use seems to be ambiguous in long expositions, as the excerpt from drama with a mock lesson, suggests. The ‘vain’ use of adjectives is ridiculed in that caricature of theoretical expositions made by teachers without practical acquaintance with the subject matter. Furthermore the ‘implicit anchoring’ of performative features in these texts with non- performative, descriptive language use suggests that the authors resort to the language used for most urgent, life and death matters, as the language use in embedded genres of reproaches or moral advices. This resort could be an attempt to naturalise medical information by using institutionalised language, in line with the speech of the diviner, who used to fulfil the social role relating to medical care. However, the combination with storytelling suggests that the authors attempt to communicate at two different levels; firstly concerning some life-threatening lack of knowledge that is addressed with information, and secondly about underlying values that are addressed with well-known storytelling strategies to unveil deceit. The creative use of these conventional patterns of language use illustrates that indigenous factors determining variation are ‘very much alive,’ while external influences such as the increased use of qualifications for the transmission of knowledge, are adopted only when they are in line with these factors.

Chapter 9 – Conclusion and Summary

In conclusion the integration of information facilitated by the use of print or by other technologies seems to be less important than the social organisation of a society as either hierarchical or egalitarian. While Street (1993; 1995) and Bloch (1998) assume that the distribution of knowledge and the organisation of power are the two main factors determining the development of literacy, I come to the conclusion that the communicative dimensions manifest in existing patterns of a language, as observed in MD analyses, indicate culturally-specific factors that contribute to the development of any new genres, including literate genres. The creative use of single elements of co-occurrence patterns can be used in allusion to entire clusters. This would seem to be a possible explanation for the innovative language use that emerges in

426 some modern Budu genres as an attempt to solve tensions arising under acculturating influences. This might be only possible in a society that first developed extremely fixed metalinguistic connotations as this border Bantu group did, before its political and religious structures disintegrated in the life span of one person. It seems that natural language use includes unconventional language use as long as it maintains contrasts that are also manifest in the main communicative dimensions of a language. The main dimensions correspond to indigenous factors that determine the acculturated elements that are adopted. In contact with the hierarchical cultures of model literate genres, the egalitarian organisation of Budu society seems to be underlined by the language use that emerges. Creative language use may solve tensions or ambiguities introduced by acculturating influences, thereby guaranteeing the continued use of Budu. The main conclusion is that creativity enables language users to integrate information in no matter what form, since creativity may exploit all possible iconic and metaphorical references a particular form can make. What counts seems to be the pattern of co-occurrence in which a form occurs, since, by its particularity in a specific culture, it may activate frames of cultural knowledge. Biber’s dimensions of variation therefore seem to represent cognitive frames of reference. Single forms may activate such frames in creative applications. This is an indication of the reality of prototypical genres. The creative use of genre features also indicates the existence of culturally-specific dimensions of language use. Natural language use can be explained as a process that guarantees the continuation of existing prototypes. This process facilitates the identification of prototypical dimensions despite their disturbing representation by integration of new elements in modern communication. Future research is needed to test the usefulness of this definition.

427

Bibliography

Abati, Anzalekyeho Francis 2003. Tense, Mood and Aspect in Budu. Paper presented at the Translation Department at Nairobi Evangelical School for Graduate studies. Abdul-Baki As-Safi and Incam Sahib Ash-Sharifi 2000. ‘Naturalness in Literary Translation’, in: Babel, revue internationale de la traduction, Vol. 43: 160-75. Abdulkadir, Mansur 2000. ‘Popular Culture in Advertising; Nigerian Hausa Radio’ in: Fardon & Furniss (eds.), 128-143. Achtemeier, Paul J. 1990. ‘Omne Verbum Sonat: The New Testament and the Oral Environment of Late Western Antiquity’, in: Journal of Biblical Literature, Vol.109, 1: 3-27. Alo, Andy Anguandia. 1999. Literacy and Translation work in the Northeastern Congo and its impact on Church Growth. Paper presented at the Translation Department of the Nairobi Evangelical Graduate School for Theology. Ameka, Felix K. 2001. ‘Ideophones and the nature of the adjective word class in Ewe’, in: Voeltz & Kilian-Hatz (eds.), 25-48. Anonymous 1984. ‘Christian Intellectuals in Zaire’, in: Pro Mundi Vita Africa Dossiers Vol.30-31, 3/4: 1-21. Anzetaka, Theophile 2003. ‘Metarepresentationmarker GU in Budu’, paper presented at the Translation Department of the Nairobi Evangelical Graduate School for Theology. Asangama, Natisa 1983. Le budu: esquisse phonologique et grammaticale, (PhD dissertation) Paris: Université de Sorbonne. Askehave, Inger & John M. Swales 2001. ‘Genre Identification and Communicative Purpose: A Problem and a Possible Solution’, in: Applied Linguistics, Vol. 22, 2: 195-212. Assobeatisio, Bafau’ndey 1985. Les formes et les temps verbaux en kiBudu. (Master’s Thesis) Bunia: Institut Supérieur de Pédagogie. Atalatis, James E. (ed.) 1995. Linguistics and the education of language teachers, ethnolinguistic, psycholinguistic and sociolinguistic aspects. Georgetown University Round Table, Vol. 46. Washington D.C.: Georgetown University Press. Athoo, Bukwedu, Oginyo and Idey 1999. Bhasa. Ibambi: Project de Alphabétisation Budu. Atibakpwa, Edema 1981. Anthroponymie bodo. Lubumbashi: Université Nationale de Zaïre (master’s thesis) Aunger, Robert 1996. ‘Acculturation and the Persistence of Indigenous Food Avoidances in the Ituri Forest, Zaire’, in: Human Organisation, Vol. 55, 2: 206-218. Austin, J. 1962a. How to do things with words. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Austin, J. 1962b. ‘Performatif-Constatif.’ Cahiers de Royaumeomt, Philosophie IV: La philosophie analytique. Paris: Les éditions de Minuit, 271-304. Awedoba, A. K. 2000. ‘Social Roles of Riddles, with reference to Kasena Society’, in: Research Review of the Institute of African Studies of the University of Ghana in Legon, New Series, Vol. 16, 2: 35-51. Bailey, F.G. 1983. The tactical uses of Passion: an Essay on Power, Reason and Reality. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. Bailey, Richard W. 1985. ‘Negotiation and Meaning: Revisiting the Context of Situation’, in: Benson & Greaves (eds.), 1-17. Bailey, Robert Converse 1991. The Behavioral Ecology of Efe Pygmy men in the Ituri Forest; Zaire. Ann Arbor: Museum of Anthropology & University of Michigan. Bakthin, Michael [1952] 1986. ‘The Problem of Speech Genres’, in: Speech Genres and other Late Essays. (ed. Emerson & Holquist, trans. V. W. McGee, Austin: University of Texas Press, 60-102. Bakthin, Michael 1981. ‘Epic and Novel; Toward a Methodology for the Study of the Novel’, in: The Dialogic Imagination: four essays. ed. Holquist, trans. Emerson & Holquist. Austin: University of Texas, 3-40 and ‘On polyphony and heterogeneity’, idem, 323-366.

429 Balandier, Georges 1950. ‘Messianismes et nationalismes en Afrique Noire’, in: Cahier International de Sociologie, Vol.14: 41-65. Balogun, F. Odun 1991. ‘Linguistic Characteristics of the African Short Story’, in: Jones (ed.) 1991, 51-60. Bambanota, Mokonzi 1989. ‘Le Travail en Groupe: Force du Futur Developpement des Paysans de la Zone de Wamba au Zaïre’, in: Bulletin of the International committee on Urgent Anthropological and Ethnological Research, Vol. 31: 107-125. Barber, Karin 1999. ‘Quotation in the Constitution of Yorùbá Oral Texts’, in: Research in African Literatures; Vol. 30, 2: 17–41. Barber, Karin and P.F. de Maraes Farias (eds.) 1989. Discourse and its diguises; The interpretation of African Oral Texts. Birmingham: Centre of West African Studies. Barnwell, Katharine. 1990. Manuel de traduction biblique: Cours d’introduction aux principes de traduction. Epinay-sur-Seine: Société Internationale de Linguistique. Bartsch, Carla 1997. ‘Oral Style, Written Style and Bible Translation’, in: Notes on Translation, Vol.11, 3: 41-48. Bastin,Yvonne, A. Coupéz and M. Mann 1999. Continuity and Divergence in the Bantu languages; perspectives from a lexicostatistic study. Tervuren: Musée royal de l’Afrique Centrale. Bateson, Gregory 1972. Steps to an Ecology of the Mind. New York: Ballantine Books. Bauman, Richard 1977. Verbal Art as Performance. Prospect Heights, IL: Waveland Press. Bauman, Richard. 1983. Let your words be few; symbolism of speaking and silence among seventeenth- century Quakers. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bauman, Richard. 1986. Story, Performance and Event: Contextual Studies of Oral Narrative. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bauman, Richard 2001. ‘The ethnography of genre in a Mexican market: form, function, variation’, in: Eckert & Rickford (eds.), 57-79. Bauman, R. & C. Briggs 1990. ‘Poetics and Performance as critical perspectives on language and social life’, in: Annual Review of Anthropology, Vol.19: 59-88. Baumgardt, Ursula & Françoise Ugochukwu 2005. Approches littéraires de l’oralité africaine. Karthala: Paris. Bazerman, Charles 1988. Shaping Written Knowledge: The Genre and Activity of the Experimental Article in Science. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press. Bazerman, Charles. 1994. ‘Systems of Genres and the Enactment of Social Intentions’, in: Freedman & Medway (eds.), 79-101. Beauclerk, J. 1993. Needs of forest people and the state of their environment. Oxford: OXFAM. Benson, James D. & William S. Greaves (eds.) 1985. Systemic Perspectives on Discourse. Norwood: Ablex. Bergmann, Jörg R. & Thomas Luckmann. 1995. ‘Reconstructive genres of everyday communication’, in: Quasthoff (ed.). Berkenkotter, Carol & Thomas N. Huckin 1995. (eds.) Genre Knowledge in Disciplinary Communication: Cognition/ culture/power. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Berkenkotter, C. & T. N. Huckin 1995. ‘Rethinking genre from a sociocognitive perspective’, in: Berkenkotter & Huckin (eds.), 1-25. Besnier, Niko 1986. ‘Register as a Sociolinguistic Unit: Defining Formality’ in: Connor-Linton, Hall & McGinnis (eds.), 25-63. Besnier, Niko 1988. ‘The linguistic relationships of spoken and written Nukulaelae registers’, in: Language, Vol. 64, 4: 707-36. Besnier, Niko 1990. 'Conflict management, gossip and affective meaning’, in: Watson Gegeo (ed.), 290-334. Besnier, Niko 1990. 'Language and Affect’, in: Annual Review Anthropology, Vol. 19: 419-51. Besnier, Niko 1993. ‘Literacy and feeings: the encoding of affect in Nukulaelae letters’, in: Street B. (ed.), 62- 86. Bhatia, Vijay K. 1993. Analyzing Genre: Language Use in Professional Settings. New York: Longman.

430 Biber, Douglas 1986. ‘Spoken and Written Textual Dimensions in English: Resolving the Contradictory Findings’, in: Language, Vol. 62, 384-414. Biber, Douglas 1988. Variation across speech and writing. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Biber, Douglas 1995. Dimensions of register variation; A cross-linguistic comparison. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Biber, Douglas 2001. Using Corpus-Based Methods to Investigate Grammar and Use: Some Case Studies on the Use of Verbs in English’, in: Simpson & Swales (eds.), 101-115. Biber, Douglas & Susan Conrad 2001. ‘Register Variation: A Corpus Approach’, in: Schiffrin, Tannen & Hamilton (eds.), 175-196. Biber, Douglas & Susan Conrad (eds.) 2001.Variation in English; Multidimensional Studies. Harlow: Pearson Education Limited. Biber, Douglas, Susan Conrad & Randi Reppen 1998. [Reprint 2000]. Corpus Linguistics; Investigating Language Structure and Use. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Biber, Douglas & Edward Finnegan 1991. On the exploitation of computerized corpora in variation studies. In K. Aijmer and B. Altenberg (eds.) English corpuslinguistics, London: Longman, 204-220. Biber, Douglas & Edward Finnegan (eds.) 1994. Sociolinguistic Perspectives on Register. New York: Oxford University Press. Biber, Douglas & Fitzmaurice, Susan M. & Randi Reppen (eds.) 2002. Using corpora to explore linguistic variation. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Biber, Douglas & Mohamed Hared 1992. ‘Dimensions of register variation in Somali’, in: Language Variation and Change, Vol. 4: 41-75. Biber, Douglas & Mohamed Hared 1994. ‘Linguistic correlates of the transition to literacy in Somali: language adaptation in six press registers’, in: Biber & Finegan (eds.), 182-216. Bibiane, Tshibola Kalengayi 1995. ‘Oralité et écriture chez quelques écrivains zaïrois de langue francaise’, in: Matatu, Vol. 13/14, 107-115. Bilger, Mireille, K. Van Den Eynde and F. Gadet 1998. Analyse linguistique et approches de l oral; Recueil d'études offert en hommage à Claire Blanche-Benveniste. Leuven: Centre Internationale de dialectologie générale. Birch, David 1991. The Language of Drama, critical theory and practice. Basingstoke: McMillan. Birch, David & O'Toole (eds.)1988. Functions of Style. London: Pinter. Birmingham, David 1976. ‘The forest and the savanna of Central Africa’, in: Flint (ed.), 222-269. Blakely, Thomas D. & Walter E.A. van Beek & Dennis L.. Thomson (eds.) 1994. Religion in Africa, James Currey: London. Blanche-Benveniste, Claire 1994. 'The construction of oral and written language' in: Verhoeven (ed.), 61-74. Bloch, Maurice E.F. (ed.) 1998. How we think they think. Anthropological Appraoches to Cognitive Memory and Literacy. Boulder: Westview Press. Bloch, Maurice E.F. 1998. 'Literacy and Enlightenment’, 152-170 in: Bloch (ed.) 1998. Bloch, Maurice E.F. 1998. 'The Uses of Schooling and Literacy in a Zafimaniry Village' in: Bloch (ed.), 171- 192. Bloch, Maurice E.F. 1995. 'Why do Malagasy Cows Speak French?' in: Street (ed.), 193-195. Blommaert, Jan 2002. ‘Orthopraxy, writing and identity; shaping lives through borrowed genres in Congo’, working papers on language, power and identity 12, Gent: University of Gent. Bokula, Francois-Xavier 1966. Eléments de grammaire et de vocabulaire de la langue bodo. Kinshasa: Université de Kinshasa (Master’s Thesis). Bokula, Francois-Xavier 1970. ‘La langue bodo: formes nominales’, in: Africana Linguistica, Vol. 4: 65-83. Boone, Douglas W. 1993. Bila survey report, in: Compendium of survey reports, Vol. 1: Bira-Huku group of Bantu, Bunia: SIL Eastern Zaire Group. Boone, Douglas W. 1995. Bwa survey report, in: Compendium of survey reports, Vol. 3, other Bantu languages, Bunia: SIL Eastern Zaire Group. Bourdieu, Pierre 1991 [1982]. Langage and Symbolic Power. Cambridge: MA, Harvard University Press.

431 Bourdieu, Pierre 1998. Acts of Resistance. New York: New Press. Bourdieu, Pierre and J.C. Passeron 1977. [1970]. Reproduction in Education, Society and Culture. London: Sage Publications. Boyle, Patrick M. 1995. 'School Wars: Church, State, and the Death of the Congo’, 451-68 in: The Journal of Modern African Studies, Vol..33, 3. Braekman, E. M. 1961. Histoire du Protestantisme au Congo. Brussels: Editions de la Libraire des Eclaireurs, Unionistes. Briggs, C. & Baumann, R. 1992. ‘Genre, Intertextuality and Social Power’, in: Journal of Linguistic Anthropology Vol. 2: 131-72. Briggs, Charles L. 1992. ‘Warao Ritual Wailing’, in: The American Ethnologist, Vol. 94, 2: 337-361. Briggs, Charles L. 1992. 'Generic versus metapragmatic dimensions of Warao narratives: who regiments performance?' in: J. Lucy (ed.), 179-212. Blakely, Thomas D. & Wyatt MacGaffey 1996. Religion and Society in Central Africa: the Bakongo of Lower Zaire, Chicago University Press: Chicago. Brown, Penelope & Colin Fraser 1979. ‘Speech as a marker of situation’, in: Scherer & Giles (eds.), 33-62. Brown, Penelope & Stephen C. Levinson 1987 [1978]. Politeness: some universals in language usage, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bülow-Möller, Anne Marie 2005. ‘Persuasion in Business negotiations’, in: Halmari & Virtanen (eds.), 26-58. Burke, Joan F. 1994. ‘French: No One’s Language; Therefore Everyones’s Language: Convent Speech in: Lower Zaire’, in: Burton, Kushari Dyson & Ardener (eds.), 128–148. Burton, Pauline, K. Kushari Dyson and S. Ardener (eds.) 1994. Bilingual women: anthropological approaches to second language use. Oxford: Berg Publishers. Bybee, Joan & Paul Hopper (eds.) 2001. Frequency and the Emergence of Linguistic Structure. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Byrnes, Heidi (ed.) 1982. Contemporary Perspectives on Linguistics, Interdisciplinary Dimensions. Georgetown Round Table Conference, Georgetown: Georgetown University. Callaghy, Thomas, M. 1980. 'State-Subject Communication in Zaire: Domination and the Concept of Domain Concensus’, in: The Journal of Modern African Studies, Vol.18, 3: 469-92. Calvet, L.J. 1974. ´Le français en Afrique’, ch. 11 in: Linguistique et colonialisme, petit traité de glottophagie. Paris: Payot. Caroll, John B. 1960. ‘Vectors of Prose Style’, in: Sebeok (ed.), 283-92. Carter, Ronald 2004. Language and Creativity: the art of common talk. London: Routledge. Carter, Ronald & Michael McCarthy 2004. ‘Talking, Creating: Interactional Language, Creativity, and Context’, in: Applied Linguistics, Vol. 25, 115/116: 64-87. Chafe, Wallace 1994. Discourse, Consciousness, and Time: the Flow and Displacement of Conscious Experience in Speaking and Writing, Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Childs, Tucker G. 2001. ‘Research on ideophones, whither hence?: The need for a social theory of ideophones’. in: Voeltz & Kilian-Hatz (eds.), 63-74. Chimombo, Steve 1987. ‘Riddles and the Reconstruction of Reality’, in: Africa Vol. 57, 3: 297-320. Chomsky, Noah 1957. Syntactic Structures. Den Haag: Mouton. Choprix, Guy 1961. La Naissance d’ une ville; étude géographique de Paulis 1934-1957. Centre de Sciences et Méd. de l’Université Libre de Bruxelles en Afrique Centrale: Brussels. Colby, Benjamin N. 1987. 'Coherence in language and culture’, in: R. Steele & T. Threadgold (eds.), 451-460. Collins, James 2001. ‘Selling the Market; Educational Standards, Discourse and Social Inequality’, in: Critique of Anthropology, Vol. 21, 2, 143-163. Connor-Linton, Hall & McGinnis (eds.) 1986. Social and Cognitive Perspectives on Language. Los Angeles: University of Southern California. Conteh-Morgan, John 1992. ‘French-Language African Drama & the Oral Tradition: Trends and Issues’, in: African Literature Today Vol.18: 115-132.

432 Cookey, S.J.S. 1964/7. ‘West African Immigrants in the Congo 1885-1896’, in: Journal of Historical Society of Nigeria, Vol.3, 2: 261-270. Cook-Gumperz, Jenny (ed.) 1986. The social construction of literacy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Cornet, René-Jules 1971. Bwana Muganga; hommes blanc en afrique noire. Brussels: Académie Royale des Sciences d’Outre-Mer. Costermans, B. 1947. ‘Muziek-instrumenten van Watsa-Gombari en omstreken’, in: Zaïre, Congolees tijdschrift, Vol.1, 6: 629-663. Crawford Young, M. 1975. ‘Zaire, Rwanda and Burundi’, in: Cambridge History of Africa; Vol. 8 c. 1940 – c. 1975, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 698-751. Croft, William. 2000. Explaining Language Change; an evolutionary approach. Essex: Pearson Education Limited, especially chapter 7: “Selection (propagation) of innovations in language change”, 166-1995. Czekanowski, Jan 1924. Forschungen im Nil-Kongo-Zwischengebiet von Prof. Dr. Jan Czekanowski, Professor für Anthropologie und Ethnologie an der K.K. Universität in Lemberg, Zweiter Band: Ethnographie: Uele/Ituri/Nil-Länder. Leipzig: Klinkhardt & Biermann. Czekanowski, Jan & Lidia Meschy 2001. Carnets de route au coeur de l’Afrique; des sources du Nil au Congo. Montricher: Editions noirs sur blanc, translation from Polish [1958] by Lidia Meschy. Dauphin-Tinturier, Anne-Marie & Jean Derive 2005. Oralité Africaine et création. De Jong, Nicky 2001. ‘The ideophone in Didinga’, in: Voelz & Kilian-Hatz (eds.), 121-138. Demolin, Didier 1990. ‘Music and Dance in Northeastern Zaire’, in: Schildkrout & Keim (eds.), 195-208. De Rooij, Vincent A. 1996. Cohesion through contrast; discourse structure in Shaba Swahili/French conversations, Amsterdam: Institute for Functional Research into Language and Language Use. De Saint Moulin, Léon 1976. Atlas des collectivités du Zaïre, Kinshasa: Presse Universitaire du Zaïre. De Vries, Lourens 1990. ‘Some Remarks on direct quotation in Kombai’, 291-309 in: Pinkster & Genee (1990). De Vries, Lourens 1993. Forms and Functions in Kombai, an Awyu language of Irian Jaya. Canberra: Australian National University. De Vries, Lourens 1998. ‘Bijbelvertaling en primaire oraliteit, inaugurele rede’, Amsterdam: Vrije Universiteit. De Vries, Lourens 1999. ‘Genre and the nature of Bible translations’, 26-42 in: Notes on Translation, Vol.13, 2. De Wit -Hasselaar, Alida 1993. Vanuma Survey Report, in: Compendium of survey reports, Vol.1, Bira-Huku group of Bantu, Bunia: SIL Eastern Zaire Group. De Wit -Hasselaar, Alida 1994. Ndaaka/Mbo/Beeke Survey Report, in: Compendium of survey reports, Vol.1, Bira-Huku group of Bantu, Bunia: SIL Eastern Zaire Group. De Wit, Gert 1993. Nyali Survey Report, in: Compendium of survey reports, Vol. 1, Bira-Huku group of Bantu, Bunia: SIL Eastern Zaire Group. De Wit, Gert 1994. Bira Survey Report, in: Compendium of survey reports, Vol. 1, Bira-Huku group of Bantu, Bunia: SIL Eastern Zaire Group. Delpit, Lisa 1988. 'The Silenced Dialogue: Power and Pedagogy in educating other people's children' in: Harvard Educational Review Vol. 58, 3: 280-98. Demolin, Didier 1990. ‘Music and Dance in Northeastern Zaire’, in: Keim & Schildkrout (eds.), 195-208. Doke, Clement M. 1935. Bantu Linguistic Terminology. London: Longmans, Green, Co. Dijkmans, J.J.M. 1977. Zandese Vertelsels. St. Augustin bei Bonn: Anthropos Institute. Dubois, A. 1932. La lèpre dans la Région de Wamba-Pawa (Uéle-Nepoko; Mémoire présenté à la séance du 16 avril 1932 de l’institut Royal Colonial Belge. l’institut Royal Colonial Belge: Brussels. 87 p. Dubois, Jean 1974. Grammaire Structurale du Français. Paris: Larousse. Dubrow, H. 1982. Genre. Critical Idiom Series. London Methuen. Duranti, Alessandro 1985. ‘Sociocultural Dimensions of Discourse’, in: Van Dijk (ed.), 193-230. Duranti, Allesandro 1988. ‘Ethnography of speaking: toward a linguistics of the praxis’, in: Newmeyer (ed.), 210-228.

433 Ebeogu, Afam 1991. ’The World of the Lullaby: The Igbo Example’, in: Research in African Literatures, Vol. 22, 2: 99-117. Eckert, Penelope & John R. Rickford (eds.) 2001. Style and sociolinguistic variation. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Eggins, Suzanne & J.R. Martin 2002. [1997]. ‘Genres and Registers of Discourse’, in: Toolan (eds.), 274-302. Ellis, Donald G., Duran, Robert L. & Lynne Kelly 1994. ‘Discourse Strategies of Competent Communicators: Selected Cohesive and Linguistic Devices’, in: Research on Language and Social Interaction, Vol. 27, 2: 145-1970. Ensink, Titus & Christoph Sauer (eds.) 2003. Framing and Perspectivising in discourse. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Ensink, Titus & Christoph Sauer 2003. ‘Social-functional and cognitive approaches to discourse interpretation; the role of frame and perspective’, in: Ensink & Sauer (eds.), 1-21. Ervin-Tripp, Susan 1972. ‘On Sociolinguistic Rules: Alternation and Co-occurrence’, in:John J. Gumperz and Dell Hymes (eds.), Directions in sociolinguistics. New York: Academic Press, 213-250. Evans Pritchard, E.E. 1970. ‘Sorcery and Native Opinion [1931]; Witchcraft amongst the Azande [1929] (ed.) Max Marwick. Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin Books. Evans Pritchard, E.E. 1937. Witchcraft, Oracles and Magic among the Azande. Clarendon Press. Evans Pritchard, E.E. 1962. ‘Ideophones in Zande’, in: Sudan Notes and Records, Vol. 43, 143-146. Fabian, Johannes 1974. Genres in an Emerging Tradition: an Anthropological Approach to Religious Communication’ reprinted in: Fabian (1991). Fabian, Johannes 1977. ‘Lore and Doctrine: Some Observations on Storytelling in the Jamaa Movement in Shaba (Zaire) in: Cahiers d’Etudes africaines, Vol.66/67(2/3): 307-329. Fabian, Johannes 1983. ‘Missions and the colonization of African Languages: developments in the Belgian Congo’, reprinted in: Fabian 1991, 131-153. Fabian, Johannes 1986. 'Simplicity on Command: on Pidginization of Swahili in Shaba (Zaire)’, in: Fishman, Tabouret-Keler, Clyne, Krishnamurti and Abdulaziz (eds.), 377-85. Fabian, Johannes 1990. ’Religious and secular colonization’, reprinted in: Fabian (1991), 155-169. Fabian, Johannes 1990. Power and Performance; ethnographic explorations through proverbial wisdom and theatre in Shaba, Zaire. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press. Fabian, Johannes 1991. Time and the Work of Anthropology, Critical Essays 1971-1991. Sherwood: Sherwood Academic Publishing. Fabian, Johannes 1998. ‘Power within: Genres in Popular Culture’, 41-69 in: Moments of Freedom; anthropology and popular culture. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia. Fairclough, Norman 1988. 'Register, power and socio-semantic change’, in: Birch & O'Toole (eds.), 111-125. Fairclough, Norman 1992. Discourse and Social Change. Cambridge: Polity Press. Fardon, Richard & Graham Furniss 2000. African broadcast cultures: radio in transition. Oxford: James Currey Publishers. Finnegan, Ruth 1977. Oral Poetry: Its Nature, Significance and Social Context. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Finnegan, Ruth 1988. Literacy and Orality: Studies in the Technology of Communication. Oxford: Blackwell. Finnegan, Ruth 1992. Oral Tradition and the Verbal Arts: A Guide to Research Practices. London: Routledge. Fishman, Joshua A., A. Tabouret-Keler, M. Clyne, Bh. Krishnamurti and M. Abdulaziz (eds. (1986). The Fergusonian Impact: in honor of C. A. Ferguson on the Occasion of his 65th Birthday, Vol.1: From Phonology to Society. Berlin: Mouton de Gruyter. Fishman, Joshua A., Charles E. Ferguson & Jyotirindra Das Gupta (eds.) 1968. Language Problems in Developing Nations. New York: Wiley. Fleischman, Suzanne 1990. Tense and Narrativity from Medieval Performance to Modern Fiction. London: Routledge. Flint, John E. (ed.) 1976. Cambridge History of Africa. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Foley, William A. 1997. Anthropological Linguistics. An Introduction. Oxford: Blackwell.

434 Freedman, A. & P. Medway (eds.) 1994. Genre and the New Rhetoric. London/Bristol: Taylor & Francis. Freedman, Aviva & Peter Medway 1994. ‘Locating Genre Studies: Antecedents and Prospects’, in: Freedman & Medway (eds.), 1-20. Frieke, Fred Christiaan 1996. Field notes on tone in the inflection of the verb, (ms). Frieke, Fred Christiaan 1998. Exposé sur l’orthographie de la langue Budu, (ms). Frieke-Kappers, C. 1989. Tone Orthography, a recommendation. Working Papers in Linguistics 40, Amsterdam: Vrije Universiteit. Frieke-Kappers, C. 1994. The Development of a Sentence Repetition Test to study Swahili Bilingualism in Zaire. Bunia: Survey Department (Eastern Zaire Group). Frieke-Kappers, C. 2006. ‘The Communicative Value of Acculturated Language; the Case of Budu Adjectives’, in: Africa and the West; Proceedings of the conference ‘Translation and Interculturality. Peter Heine Verlag, 25-37. Frieke-Kappers, C. & B. Gottschlich 1999. Contes Budu, Manuel d’Etude pour le personnel du Projet de Traduction de la Bible et d’Alphabétisation en Langue Budu, (ms). Fries, Peter H. & M. Gregory (eds.) 1995. Discourse in Society; Systemic Functional Perspectives, Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Furniss, Graham 2005. ‘Creativity and Rhetoric’ in: Dauphin-Tinturier & Derive (eds.), 71- 91. Gatti, Attilio 1937. Moeder Oerwoud, translated from ‘Great Mother Forest’ by Van Den Berghe. Antwerpen: de Sikkel. Gatti, Attilio & Ellen Gatti 1937. Zo is Afrika, translated from ‘Here is Africa’. Amsterdam: Wereldbibliotheek. Gee, J.P. 1990. Social Linguistics and Literacies; Ideology in Discourses. London: The Falmer Press. Giddens, Anthony. 1984. The Constitution of Society; outline of a theory of structuration. Berkely, California: University of California Press. Giora, Rachel 1985. ‘A text based analysis of non-narrative texts’, in: Theoretical Linguistics, Vol. 12, 2/3: 116-135. Givón, Talmy (ed.) 1983. Topic Continuity in Discourse; a Quantitative Cross-Language Study. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Givón, Talmy. 1992. ‘The grammar of referential coherence as mental processing instructions’, in: Linguistics, Vol. 30: 5-55. Goodman, Jane E. 2001. in: Carter (2004). Goffman, Erving 1974. Frame Analysis: An Essay on the Organization of Experience. New York: Harper & Row. Gondola, Ch. Didier 1997. ‘Popular Music, Urban Society, and changing gender relations in Kinshasa, Zaire 1950-1990.’ in: Grosz-Ngaté, M. & O. M. Kokole (eds.), 65-84. Goodman, Jane E. 2002. ‘Writing empire, underwriting nation’ in: the American Anthropologist, Vol.29, 1: 86- 122. Gordon, Raymond G. jr. (ed.) 2005. Ethnologue: Languages of the World. 15tth edition. Dallas: SIL International. Gossen, Gary H. 1972.’Chamulas in the world of the sun; time and space in a Maya oral tradition’, in: Paredes, A. & Bauman R. (eds.), 145-62. Goyvaerts, Didier L. 1995. 'The Emergence of Lingala in Bukavu, Zaire' in: The Journal of Modern African Studies 33, 2: 299-314. Graff, H. 1987. The Legacies of Literacy: Continuities and Contradictions in Western Culture. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Grégoire, Claire 2003. ‘The Bantu Languages of the Forest’ in: Nurse & Philippson (eds.), 349-370. Gregorius, P. 1952. ‘Ethnologische resultaten van P. Schebesta’s expeditie’s onder de Bambuti-Pygmeeën aan de Ituri-rivier’, in: Zaïre, Vol. 6: 379-390. Greschat, Hans-Jürgen 1967. Kitawala, Ursprung, Ausbreitung und Religion, der Watch-Tower-Bewegung in ZentralAfrika, Marburger Theologische Studien. Marburg: Elwert.

435 Grimes, Barbara 1996. Ethnologue; Languages of the World. Web version by Dallas, Texas: SIL International. Grinker, Roy Richard 1994. Houses in the Rainforest; Ethnicity and Inequality among Farmers and Foragers in Central Africa. Berkeley: California University Press. Grootaers, Jan-Lodewijk 1996. A history and ethnography of modernity among the Zande (Central African Republic) Unpublished PhD dissertation at the University of Chicago. Grosz-Ngaté, M. & Omari M. Kokole (eds.) 1997. Gendered encounters: challenging cultural boundaries and social hierarchies in Africa. New York: Routledge. Gumperz, John J. 1982a. Discourse Strategies. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Gumperz, John J. (ed.. 1982b. Language and Social Identity. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Gumperz, J.J., H. Kaltman, and M.C. O'Connor 1982. 'Cohesion in Spoken and Written Discourse: Ethnic Style and the Transition to Literacy’, in: Gumperz 1982b, 3-19. Gumperz, John .J. & Dell Hymes 1972. Directions in Sociolinguistics; the ethnography of communication. New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, reissued 1986 Oxford: Blackwell. Günthner, Susanne and Knoblauch, Hubert 1995. ‘Culturally patterned speaking practices – The analysis of communicative genres’. Pragmatics Vol. 5, 1: 1-32. Guthrie, Malcolm [1948]. The classification of Bantu languages. London: International African Institute, reprinted 1967. Guthrie, Malcolm 1967-71. Comparative Bantu: an introduction to the comparative linguistics and prehistory of the Bantu languages, Vols. 1-4. Farnborough: Gregg Press. Gysels, Marjolein Helene 1996. Genre, Intertextualiteit en performance: een ethnografische studie van de hadisi: een orale traditie in Lubumbashi, Zaïre.( PhD dissertation at the University of Amsterdam: Hippo Multimedia. Halliday, M. A. K. & R. Hasan 1976. Cohesion in English. London: Longman. Halliday, M.A.K. 1985. ‘Systemic Background’, in: Benson & Greaves (eds.), 1-11. Halliday, M.A.K. 1985. An introduction to functional grammar. Baltimore: E. Arnold. Halmari, Helena & Tuija Virtanen 2005. ‘Towards understanding modern persuasion’ in: Halmari & Virtanen (eds.), 229-244. Halmari, Helena & Tuija Virtanen (eds.) 2005. Persuasion across genres; a linguistic approach. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Hanks, William F. 1987. ‘Discourse genres in a theory of practice’. American Ethnologist 14: 668-692. Hanks, William F. 1996. Language and communicative practices. Boulder Colorado: Westview Press. Hasan, R. & P.H. Fries 1993. 'Reflections on Subject and Theme, an introduction’, XIII-XLV in: On Subject and Theme, a discourse functional perspective. Hasan & Fries (eds.) Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Hasan, Ruqaia 1995. 'The Conception of Context in Text’, in: Fries & Gregory (eds.), 183-283. Hatim, Basil & Ian Mason 1990. Discourse and the Translator. New York: Longman. Helliwel, Christine 2001. ‘Autonomy as Natural Equality; Inequality in ‘Egalitarian Societies’, in: Journal of the Royal Antropological Institute, Vol.1: 359-375. Hengeveld, Kees 1990. ‘Cohesion in Functional Grammar’, in: in: Pinkster & Genee (eds.), 3-16. Herring, Susan C., P. van Reenen & Lene Schloesler (eds.) 2000. Textual Parameters in Older Languages. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Holm, J. (ed.) 1967. Essays on the Verbal and Visual Arts. Seattle, WA: University of Washington Press. Hopper, Paul J. 1996. ‘Some recent trends in grammaticalization’, in: Annual Review of Anthropology, Vol. 25: 217-236. Hopper, Paul J. & Elizabeth Closs Traugott. 1993. Grammaticalization. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hopper, Paul J. & Sandra Thompson 1982. ‘Transitivity in Grammar and Discourse' in: Language Vol. 56, 2: 251-99.

436 Hunt, Nacy Rose 1999. A Colonical Lexicon of birth ritual, medicalization and mobility in the Congo. Durham: Duke University Press. Hustinx, Leticia G. M. M. 1996. Markeerders van de thematische structuur in tekst (PhD dissertation at the University of Nijmegen) Enschede: Ipskamp. Hyman Larry M. & Allesandro Duranti 1982. ‘On the object relation in Bantu’, in: Syntax and Semantics, Vol.15: 217-239. Hyman, Larry M. 2003. ‘Segmental Phonology’, in: Nurse & Philippson (eds.), 42-58. Hymes, Dell 1964. Language in Culture and Society; a reader in linguistics and anthropology. New York: Harper & Row. Hymes, Dell 1996. Ethnography, Linguistics, Narrative Inequality: Towards an Understanding of Voice. Bristol: Taylor & Allen. Ilunga, Luc Baboya 1992. Histoire des Babudu et des Balika du territoire de Wamba (République Démocritique du Congo) (MS). 58 p. Imbuli, Mbolokala 2001. ‘L’inter-transubjectivité du proverbe Ekonda face aux nouvelles technologies’, in: Revue africaine des sciences de la mission. Vol. 14/15: 158-170. Irvine, Judith 1979. 'Formality and Informality in Communicative Events’, in: The American Anthropologist, Vol. 81: 773-90. Irvine, Judith 1982. ‘Language and Affect; some Cross-Cultural Issues’, in: Byrnes (ed.), 31-47. Isaacman, Allen & Richard Roberts (eds.)1995. Cotton, colonialism, and social history in Sub-Saharan Africa. London: Heineman. Iyasere, Solomon O. 1975. 'Oral Tradition in the Criticism of African Literature’, in: The Journal of Modern African Studies. Vol.13, 1: 107-19. Jakobson, Roman 1960.Closing Statement: Linguistics and Poetics’, in: Sebeok (ed.), 350 – 377.[M.I.T. paperback edition 1966]. Jewsiewickie, Bogumil 1991. ‘Peintres de cases, imagiers et savants populaires du Congo, 1900-1960,’ in: Cahiers d’Études africaines, Vol. 23, 31/33: 307-326. Johnstone, Barbara 1987. ‘Parataxis in Arabic: Modification as a model for persuasion’, in: Studies in Language, Vol.11, 1: 85-98. Jones, Eldred Durosimi (ed.) 1991. The question of language in African literature today: borrowing and carrying: a review. New Jersey: James Currey. Jonk, J. & G. Bouritius 1952. ‘Waarzeggerij en beheksing bij Bandaka en Arabises’, in: Zaïre. 1954, Vol.8: 595-613. Junker, Wilhelm 1890. Reisen in Afrika; 1875-1886; Zweiter Band 1879-1882. Hölzel: Wien & Olmütz. Kagbeni Muana, Patrick 1998. ‘Beyond frontiers: a review of analytical paradigms in folklore studies’, in: Journal of African Cultural Studies, Vol. 11: 1, 39-58. Kabamba, Nkaman a Baleme 1996. ‘Pouvoirs et idéologies tribales au Zaïre’, Paris: L’ Harmattan. Kabuta, N.S. 2001. ‘Ideophones in Ciluba’, in: Voeltz & Kilian-Hatz (eds.), 139-154. Kamwangamalu, Nkonko M. 1998. In: Prah (1998). Katamba, Francis 2003. ‘Bantu Nominal Morphology’, in: Nurse & Philippson (eds.), 103-120. Keim, Curtis A. 1983. ‘Long-distance trade and the Mangbetu’, in: Journal of African History, Vol. 24: 1-22. Kim, hae-on & Charles W. Mueller 1978. Introduction to Factor Analysis; What it is and How To Do It. London: Sage Publications. Kim, Yong-Jin and Douglas Biber 1994. A corpus based analysis of register variation in Korean. in: Biber & Finegan (eds.), 157-81. Kirshenblatt-Gimblett (ed.) 1976. Speech Play; research and resources for studying linguistic creativity. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania. Kirshenblatt-Gimblett, Barbara & Joel Sherzer 1976. ‘Introduction’, in: Kirshenblatt-Gimblett (ed.), 1-18. Kishani, Bongasu Tania 1985. ‘The comparative role of orality and writing’, in: Présence Africaine: Vol. 136: 68-80.

437 Kishe, Anna M. 2003. ‘Kiswahili as Vehicle of Unity and Development in the Great Lakes Region’, in: Language, Culture and Curriculum. Vol.16, 2: 218-31. Kisseberth Charles & David Odden 2003. ‘Tone’, in: Nurse & Philippson (eds.), 59-71. Klem, Herbert V. 1982. Oral Communication of the Scripture, insights for African Oral Arts, Pasadena: William Carey Library. Koehler, Loren 1995. Vowel Harmony in Budu. (Master’s Thesis) Dallas: University of Texas. Koudouguéret, David 2000. Poétique et traduction biblique, Les récits de la Genèse dans le système littéraire sango. CNWS, Vol.92 (Doctoral Thesis). Kress, Gunther 1988. 'Textual Matters: the social effectiveness of style’, in: Birch & O'Toole (eds.), 126-141. Krzywicki, Janusz 1989. ‘Contes didactiques Bira (Haut Zaïre)’. in: Africa; Rivista trimestrale di studi e documentazione dell’Istituto Italo-Africano, Vol.44: 416-434. Kuipers, Joel Corneal 1990. Power in Performance, the creation of textual authority in Weyewa ritual speech. Philadelpha: University of Pennsylvania Press. Kulick, Don & Christopher Stroud 1993. ‘Conceptions and uses of literacy in a Papua New Guinean Village’, in: Street (ed.), 30-61. Kunene, Daniel P. 1971. ‘From oral to what? Some Problems of Transition from Spoken to Written Art’, paper presented at the 14th annual meeting of the African Studies Association, Denver. Kunene, Daniel P. 2001. ‘Speaking the act; the ideophone as a linguistic rebel’, in: Voelz & Kilian-Hatz (eds.), 184-191. Kurtz, Roger J. & Robert M. Kurtz. 2002. Language & Ideology in Postcolonial Kenyan Literature; the case of David Maillus’s Macaronic Fiction, in: Newell, Stephen (ed.), 123-128. Kutsch Lojenga, Constance 1994. ‘KiBudu, a Bantu Language with Nine Vowels’ in: Africana Linguistica XI, Vol.142: 127-133. Kutsch Lojenga, Constance 2003. ‘Bira (D32)’ in: Nurse & Philippson (eds.), 225-256. Labov, W. & J. Waletzky 1967. ‘Narrative analysis; Oral Versions of Personal Experience’, in: Holm, J. (ed.), 12-44. Labov, William 1994. Principles of Linguistic Change; Vol.1: Internal Factors. Oxford: Blackwell. Ladefoged, Peter and Ian Maddieson. 1996. The sounds of the worlds languages. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers. Lagerwerf, Luuk, Spooren Wilbert & Liesbeth Degand (eds.) 2003. Determination of Information and Tenor in Texts: Multidisciplinary Approaches to Discourse 2003.Stiching Neerlandistiek VU Amsterdam & Nodus Publickationen: Münster. Lambrecht, Frank L. 1991. In the Shade of an Acacia Tree: Memoirs of a Health Officer, 1945-1959. Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society. Lambrecht, Frank L. 1994. Pawa; a Memoir from the Belgian Congo 1945-1949. Santa Barabara: Lane and Associates Publishing. Lambrou, Marina 2003. ‘Collaborative oral narratives of general experience: when an interview becomes a conversation’, in: Language and Literature, Vol.12, 2: 153-174. Leckie-Tary, H. 1995. Language and Context, a Functional Linguistic Theory of Register. (D. Birch ed.) London: Pinter. Levinson, Stephen C. 1979. ‘Activity types and language’, Linguistics Vol. 17, 5/6: 356-399. Lewis, E. Douglas. 1998. ‘The Tyranny of the Text; Oral Tradition and the Power of Writing in Sikka and Tana

438 Longacre, Robert E. 1990. 'Storyline Concerns and Word Order Typology in East and West Africa’, Studies in African Linguistics, Supplement 10. Los Angeles: Coleman African Studies Center. Longacre, Robert E. 1996. The Grammar of Discourse. 2nd edition. Topics in Language and Linguistics Series. New York: Plenum Press. Lorentzon, Leif 1997. ‘Translating Orality to Literacy; Writing Both an Audible Text and an Oral Narrative Situation’, in: Ufahamu, Vol. 25, 3: 3-16. Luckmann, Thomas 1992. ‘On the communicative adjustment of perspectives, dialogue and communicative Genres’, in: Wold, A.H. (ed.), 219-234. Lucy, J. (ed.) 1992. Reflexive Language: Reported Speech and Metapragmatics, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Lyons, Maryinez 1992. The colonial disease; a social history of sleeping sickness in northern Zaire, 1900- 1940. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. MacGaffey, Wyatt 1994. ’Kimbanguism and the Question of Syncretism in Zaire’, in: Blakely and Wyatt (eds.) 1996. MacGavran, Donald A. & Norman Riddles 1979. Zaire, Midday in Missions. Valley Gorge: Judson Press. Marco, Josep 2003. ‘Register Analysis in Literary Translation: a Functional Approach’, in: Babel, revue internationale de la traduction, Vol. 46: 1-19. Matthews, Berhanu 2003. ‘The Form, Style and Poetic Quality of Kambatta Riddles’, in: Journal of Ethiopian Studies, Vol. 36, 1: 19-37. Mayes, Patricia 2003. Language, Social Structure and Culture: A genre analysis of cooking classes in Japan and America. Amsterdam: John Benjanmins. Mbuluyo Mokili, K. 1986. ‘La culture du café et le développement de l’Uélé’, in: Les cahiers d’outre mer, Vol.39, 154: 143-156. Mbunzi, Nangaa 1992. La conception de la circoncision chez les Budu. Paper to obtain diploma four-year Bible School programme of the Protestant denomination CECCA 16 in Isiro. Meier, Hans Heinrich 1999. ‘Imagination by Ideophones’, in: Nänny & Fisher (eds.), 135-154. Meschy, Lidia 1994. ‘Jan Czekanowski et l’expédition ‘Mecklembourg´ ; Afrique centrale 1907-1909’, in: Revue Française d’Histoire d’outre-mer, Vol. 81, 305: 477-491. Merolla, Daniela & Sandra Ponzanesi 2005. Migrant cartography. New cultural and literay spaces in post- colonial Europe. Lanham: Lexington books. Miller, Carolyn R. 1994 [1984]. ‘Genre as social action’, in: Freedman & Medway (1994), 23-42, reprinted corrected version from: Quarterly Journal of Speech, 70: 151-167. Miller, Carolyn R. 1994. ’Rhetorical Community: The Cultural Basis for Genre’, in: Freedman & Medway (eds.), 67-78. Milroy, Lesley 2001. ‘Conversation, spoken language, and social identity.’ in: Eckert & Rickford (eds.), 268- 278. Mily Denda-Sakala, Dieudonné 1996. ‘Les sous-régions rurales de la province orientale dans la dynamique de l’histoire récente du Zaïre; de 1960 à 1985 (cas du Bas-Uélé)’, Afrika Focus Vol.12: 4: 191-218. Miyamoto, Masaoki 1998. ‘The Modernisation of the Japanese Language in Comparison to Swahili’, in: Prah (ed.), 265-275. Möller, A. 1936. Les grandes lignes des migrations des Bantous dans la Province Orientale du Congo Belge. Brussels: Institut royal colonial Belge. Mokili, K. Mbuluyo 1986. ‘La culture du café et le développement de l’Uélé’, in: Cahier d’Outre Mer, Vol. 39, 154: 143-156. Mokoli, Mondonga M. 1992. State against Development; the Experience of Post-1965 Zaire. London: Greenwood Press. Mphande, Lupenga 1992. ‘Ideophones and African Verse’, in: Research in African Literatures, Vol. 23, 1: 117-129. Muana, Patrick Kagbeni 1998. ‘Beyond Frontiers: a review of analytical paradigms in folklore studies’, in: Journal of African Studies, Vol.11, 1: 39-58.

439 Mudimbe, V.Y. 1988. ‘The Power of Speech, the Missionary’s discourse and Africa’s conversion’, in: The Invention of Africa; Gnosis, Philosophy and the Order of Knowledge. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 44-97. Mufwene, Salikoko S. 2003. ‘Contact languages in the Bantu area’, in: Nurse & Philippson (eds.), 195-208. Mukonji, Mukombozi 1984. ‘Les institutions politiques traditionelles Bodo et Lika – Zone de Wamba, république du Zaïre’, in: Bulletin of the International Committee on Urgent Anthropological and Ethnological Research, Vol. 26, 55-67. Mwene-Batende 1982. Mouvements Messianiques et Protestation Sociale; le cas du Kitawala chez les Kumu du Zaïre; Kinshasa: faculté de théologie catholique de Kinshasa. Myers-Scotton, C. 1993. Social Motivations for Code Switching: evidence from Africa. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Mytton, Graham 2000. ‘From Saucepan to Dish; Radio & TV in Africa’, in: Fardon & Furniss (eds.), 20-41. Nänny, Max & Olga C. M. Fisher (eds.) 1999. Form miming meaning: iconicity in language and literature. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Nattinger, James R. & Jeannette S. De Carrico 1992. The nature and description of lexical phrases. Oxford University Press: Oxford. Nelson, Jack E. 1992. Christian Missionizing and Social Transformation: A History of Conflict and Change in Eastern Zaire. New York: Praeger. Newell, Stephen (ed.) 2002. Readings in African Popular Fiction. London: School of African and Oriental Studies. Newmeyer, F. (ed.) 1988. Linguistics: The Cambridge survey, Volume IV. Language: the Socio-cultural Context. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Newmark, Peter 1988. A textbook of translation. New York: Prentice Hall. Ngandu, Malasi 1991. ‘Une Leçon d’Observation de la Nature et de la Société par le Jeu d’Esprit: la devinette Lega’, in: Journal of African and Asian Studies, Vol. 41: 49-69. Ngandu, Pius Nkashama 1992. Le Congo-Kinshasa (Zaïre): ‘Les langages multipliés dans la souffrance’ in: Littératures et écritures en langues africaines. Paris: L’Harmattan, 375-383. Nida, Eugene A. 1964. Toward a Science of Translation; with special reference to principles and procedures involved in translating the Bible. Leiden: Brill. Nida, Eugene A. 1974. The Theory and Practice of Translation. Leiden: Brill. Noss, Phillip A. 1981. 'The oral story and Bible Translation’, Technical papers for the Bible translator, Vol. 32: 249-318. Noss, Phillip A. 2001. ‘Ideas, phones and Gbaya verbal art’, in: Voelz & Kilian-Hatz (eds.), 259-270. N'sial, Sesep 1993. La francophonie au coeur de l'Afrique; Le français zaïrois. Institut d'Études Créoles et Francophones URA 1041 du CNRS, Montmagny (Qc): Université de Provence. N'soko Swa-Kabamba Joseph 1997. Le panégrique mbíímbi: étude d'un genre littéraire poétique oral yaka (République Démocratique du Congo) Leiden: CNWS Publications. Nurse, Derek & Gérard Philippson (eds.) 2003. The Bantu Languages. Routledge: London. Nurse, Derek 2003. ‘Aspect and Tense in Bantu Languages’, in: Nurse & Philippson (eds.), 90-102. Nurse, Derek & Gérard Philippson 2003. ‘Towards a historical classification of the Bantu languages’, in: Nurse & Philippson (eds.), 164-81. Nzenge, Mbulamoko 1991. ‘Etat des recherches sur le lingala comme langue véhiculaire et comme groupe linguistique autonome’, in: Annales Aequatoria, Vol.12: 377-406. Nzongola-Ntalaja, Georges (ed.) 1986. The Crisis in Zaire; Myths and Realities. Trenton: Africa World Press. Nzongola-Ntalaga, Georges 2002. The Congo from Leopold to Kabila; A people’s History. London and New York: Zed Books. Oakey, David 2002. ‘Formulaic language in English academic writing; a corpus based study of the formal and functional variation of a lexical phrase in different academic diciplines’, in: Reppen, Fitzmaurice & Biber (eds.), 111-130.

440 Obeng, Samuel Gyasi 2003. Language in African Social Interaction; Indirectness in Akan Communication. New York: Nova Science Publishers. Ong, Walter. 1982. Orality and Literacy: the technologizing of the Word. London: Methuen. Östman, Jan-Ola 2005. ‘Persuasion as implicit anchoring; the case of collocations’, in: Halmari & Virtanen (eds.), 183-213. Paltridge, Brian 1997. Genre, frames, and writing in research settings. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Paré, Anthony & Graham Smart 1994. ‘Observing Genres in Action: Towards a Research Methodology’, in: Freedman & Medway (ed.), 146-154. Paredes, A. & Bauman R. 1972. Toward New Perspectives in Folklore. Austin: University of Texas Paris: Karthala. Partington, Alan 1998. Patterns and Meanings; using corpora for English language research and teaching. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Payne, Thomas E. 1997. Describing morphosyntax; a guide for field linguists. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Perrin, Laurent 2000. ‘Remarques sur la dimension générique et sur la dimension dénominative des proverbes’, in: Languages, Vol. 139: 69-80. Pinkster, Harm & Inge Genee 1990. Unity in Diversion, Dordrecht: Foris Publications. Polomé, Edgar 1968. ’The choice of official language in the Democratic Republic of the Congo' in: Fishman, Tabouret-Keler, Clyne, Krishnamurti and Abdulaziz (eds.), 295-311. Prah, Kwesi Kwaa (ed.) 1998. Between distinction and extinction; the harmonisation and standardisation of African languages. Witwatersrand University Press: Johannesburg. Price, Richard & Sally 1976. ‘Secret Play Languages in Saramaka; Linguistic Disguise in a Caribbean Creole’, in: Kirshenblatt-Gimblett (ed.), 37-50. Quasthoff, U. (ed.) 1995. Aspects of oral communication. Berlin: de Gruyter. Redeker, Gisela 1986. Language Use in Informal Narratives; Effects of Social Distance and Listener Involvement. Berkely: University of California (PhD). Renouf, Antoinette and L. Bauer 2001. 'Contextual Clues to Word Meaning’, in: International Journal of Corpus Linguistics, Vol. 5, 2: 231-58. Rössler, Michael 1998. Shifting Cultivationin the Ituri Forest [ Haut Zaïre]; colonial invervention; present situation; economic and ecological prospects. Special issue of Civilisations, 44-61. Romaine, S. 1994. ‘On the Creation and Expansions of Registers: Sports Reporting in Tok Pisin’, in: Biber & Finegan (eds.), 59-81. Romaine, S. 1995. Bilingualism. Second Edition. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Rosevaere, Helen 1976. He gave use a valley. Leicester: Inter Varsity Press. Rosch, Eleanor 1973. ‘On the internal structure of perceptual and semantic categories’. in: Cognitive development and the acquisition of language, R.E. Moore (ed.), New York, Academic Press, 111-144. Salmon, Pierre 1977. La révolte des Batetela de l’expedition du Haut-Ituri 1897 ; témoignages inédits. Bruxelles: Académie Royale des Sciences d’Outre Mer. Samarin, William J. 1989. The black man’s burden: African colonial labor on the Congo and Ubangi rivers, 1880-1900. Boulder: Westview Press. Samarin, William J. 1971. ‘The Translation of Ideophones’, The Bible Translator, Vol. 22. Samarin, William J. 1991. ‘The origins of Kituba and Lingala’, in: Journal of African Languages and Linguistics Vol.12: 47-77. Sanchez, Mary & Barbara Kirshenblat-Gimblett, 1976. ‘Children’s Traditional Speech Play and Child Language, in: Kirshenblat-Gimblett (ed.), 65-110. Saville-Troike, Muriel 2003 [1982]. The ethnography of communication; an introduction, -3rd edition. Malden/Oxford/Berlin/Melbourne: Blackwell Publishing. Sawada, Masato 1998. ‘Encounters with the dead among the Efe and Balese in the Ituri Forest; mores and ethnic identity shown by the dead’, in: African Study Monographs, Supplement 25: 85-104.

441 Sawada, Masato 2001. ’Rethinking methods and concepts of anthropological studies on ’ world view: the creator God and the dead’, in: African Study Monographs, Supplement 27: 29-42. Schadeberg, Thilo C. 2003. ‘Derivation’, in: Nurse & Philippson (eds.), 71-89. Schank, Roger C. And Abelson, Robert P. 1977. Scripts, Plans, Goals and Understanding: An inquiry into human knowledge structures. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Schatzberg, Michael 1978. 'Fidelité au Guide: the J.M.P.R. in Zairian Schools' in: The Journal of Modern African Studies Vol. 16, 3: 417-31. Schatzberg, Michael G. 1988. The dialectics of oppression in Zaire. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Schebesta, Paul 1934.Vollblutneger under Halbzwerge. Forschungen unter Walnegern und Halbpygmäen am Ituri in Belgisch Kongo. Salzburg und Leipzig: Pustet. Schebesta, Paul 1938-50. Die Bambuti Pygmäen von Ituri (in four Volumes) Brussels: Van Campenhout. Scherer Klaus R. & Howard Giles (eds.) 1979. Social markers in speech. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Schiffrin, Deborah 1987. Discourse Markers. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Schiffrin, Deborah, Tannen, Deborah & Heidi E. Hamilton (eds.) 2001. The Handbook of Discourse. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Schildkrout, Enid & Curtis A. Keim 1990. ‘Dealing with Destiny: Aspects of Mangbetu Thought’, in: Schildkrout & Keim (eds.), 169-193. Schildkrout, Enid & Curtis A. Keim (eds.) 1990. African Reflections, art from Northeastern Zaire. New York: American Museum of Natural History. Schilling-Estes, Natalie 2000. ‘Redrawing ethnic dividing lines through linguistic creativity’, in: American Speech, Vol. 75, 4: 357-9. Schousboe, Karen & Mogens Trolle Larsen (eds.) 1989. Literacy and Society. Copenhagen: Akademisk Forlag. Scollon, Ronald & Suzanne Wong Scollon 1995. Intercultural Communication; a discourse approach. Oxford: Blackwell. Scollon, Ronald & Suzanne Scollon 1981. Narrative, Literacy and Face in Interethnic Communication. Norwood, NJ: Ablex. Scollon, Ronald & Suzanne Scollon 1991. ‘Somatic communication; how useful is Orality for the Characterisation of Speech Events and Cultures?’ in: Scollon & Wong (eds.) 1995, 19-29. Scott, Bobb F. 1999. Historical dictionary of Democratic Republic of the Congo (Zaire), revised edition of Historical Dictionary of Zaire [1988], Maryland/Kent: Scarecrow Press. Searle, John R. 1969. Speech Acts; an Essay in the Philosophy of Language. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Sebeok, Thomas A. (ed.) 1960. Style in Language. [Reprinted Paperback ed. 1966] Massachusets Institute for Technology Press: Massachusetts. Sengo, T.S.Y. 1992. ‘Proverbs in an East African Setting’, in: Matatu Vol. 9: 67-80. Sherzer, Joel 1976. ‘Play Languages; Implications for (Socio) Linguistics’, in: Kirshenblatt-Gimblett (ed.), 19-36. Sherzer, Joel 1987. ‘A Discourse Centered Approach to Language and Culture’, in: The American Anthropologist. Vol. 89: 295-309. Siangombe, Réverend. 2000. La religion africaine et le chrétien. (ms). Siegel, Sidney and N. John (jr.) Castellan 1988. Non Parametric statistics for the behavioral sciences. New York: Mc Graw-Hill. Silverstein, M. & G. Urban eds 1996. Natural Histories of Discourse. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Simpson, Rita C. & John M. Swales 2001. Corpus Linguistics in North America, selections from the 1999 Symposion. Ann Arbor: Michigan University Press. Sinclair, John 1992. Corpus, Concordance, Collocation. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 2nd print [1991]. Slade Reardon, Ruth 1968. 'Catholics and Protestants in the Congo' in: Baeta (ed.) Christianity in Tropical Africa.

442 Smet, A.J. 1978. Le concept fondamental de l'ontologie Bantoue, mélanges de philosophies Africaines, Kinshasa: faculté de théologie catholique de Kinshasa. Sokal, Robert R. & F. James Rohlf, 1995 [1969]. Biometrics; the Principles and Practice of Statistics in Biological research, 3rd edition, New York: W.H. Freeman and Company. Steele, R. & T. Threadgold (eds.) 1987. Language Topics, Essays in Honour of Michael Halliday,Vol.I. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Steen, Gerard 1999. ‘Genres of Discourse and the Definition of Literature’, in: Discourse Processes, Vol. 28, 2: 109-120. Steen, Gerard 2003. ‘Conversationalism in discourse: stylistic changes in editorials of The Times between 1950 and 2000’. in: Lagerwerf, Spooren & Degand (eds.), 115-124. Street, Brian V. 1994. 'Cross-Cultural Perspectives on Literacy’, in: Verhoeven (ed.), 95-108. Street, Brian V. (ed.) 1993. Cross Cultural Approaches to Literacy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Street, Brian V. and Andre Singer (eds.) 1972. Zande Themes, Essays presented to Sir Edward Evans- Pritchard. Oxford: Basil Blackwell. Street, Brian V. 1972. The Trickster Theme: Winnebago and Azande. in: Street & Singer (eds.), 82–104. Stubbs, Michael 1996. Text and Corpus Analysis; computer-assisted studies of language and culture. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers. Swadesh, Morris [1960] 1993. ‘On the unit of translation’,Anthropological Linguistics Vol. 35, 435-439. Swales, John M. 1981. ‘Aspects of Article Introductions’, Acton ESP Research Reports 1. Birmingham: The Language Studies Unit, Aston University. Swales, John M. 1987. ‘Utilising the Literatures in Teaching the Research Paper’, in: TESOL Quarterly. Vol. 21, 1: 41-68. Swales, John M. 1990. Genre Analysis; English in Academic and Research Settings. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Swales, John M. 1993. ‘Genre and Engagement’, in: Van Noppen & Frédéric (eds.) 687-697. Tannen, Deborah (ed.) 1984. Coherence in Spoken and Written Discourse. Norwood: Ablex. Tannen, Deborah 1989. Talking Voices, repetition, dialogue and imagery in conversational discourse. Cambridge: Cambrige University Press. Tedlock, Dennis. 1983. The spoken word and the work of interpretation. Philadelphia: University of Philadelphia Press. Tegnaeus, Harry 1954. La fraternité de sang; étude ethno-sociologique des rites de la fraternité de sang notamment en Afrique. Paris: Payot. Tereshima, Hideaki 1998. ‘Honey and holidays: the interactions mediated by honey between Efe hunter- gatherers and Lese farmers in the Iruri Forest’, in: African Study Mongraphs, Supplement 25: 123-134. Thomas, Paul 1994. ‘Bantu Noun-Class reflexes in Komo’, in: Africana Linguistica XI, Vol.142: 177-195. Tomlin, R. (ed.) 1987. Coherence and grounding in discourse, outcome of a Symposium,Eugene, Oregon, June 1984. Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Toolan (ed.) 2002.Critical Discourse Analysis; critical concepts in linguistics. London/NewYork:Routledge Tottie, Gunnel 1993. Quantitative Discourse Analysis. special issue of Language Variation and Change, Vol.4, 2, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Towles, Joseph A. 1993a. Nkumbi ritual among the Mbo. Tervuren: Musée royale de l’Afrique centrale. Towles, Joseph A. 1993b. ASA Myth and Origin of Blood-Brotherhood among the Mbo. Tervuren: Musée royale de l’Afrique centrale. Tyler, Andrea 1994. 'The role of repetition in perceptions of discourse coherence’, in: Journal of Pragmatics, Vol. 21: 671-688. Trosborg, Anna (ed.) 2000. Analysing professional genres. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins. Tyler, Andrea 1995. 'Patterns of lexis: how much can repetition tell us about discourse coherence?‘ in: Atalatis (ed.), 268-280. Unger, Christoph 2000. On the cognitive role of genre: a relevance-theoretic perspective. (unpublished PhD dissertation), London: University of London.

443 Urban, Greg 1991. A discourse-centered approach to culture; native South American myths and rituals, Austin: University of Texas. Ure, Jean 1968. ‘Practical Registers’, in: English Language Learning, Vol. 23, 1: 107-113. Van Der Poort, C. 1973. Gamba, een onafhankelijke kerk in Zaïre. Unpublished PhD dissertation at the Vrije University, Amsterdam: Vrije Universiteit. Van Dijk, Teun Adrianus (ed.) 1985. Handbook of Discourse Analysis, Vol. 1. London: Academic Press. Van Geluwe, H. 1960. ‘Les Bali et les peuplades apparentées; (Ndaka - Mbo – Beke – Lika – Budu – Nyari) Annales du Musée royal du Congo Belge, Sciences de l’homme monographes ethnographiques Vol. 5. Van Noppen, Jean Pierre & Madeleine Frédéric (eds.) 1993. New Horizons in Stylistics; Revue Belge de Philologie et d’ Histoire, Vol. 71, 3; Brussels: Société pour le progrès des études philologiques et historiques. Vansina, Jan 1966. Introduction à l’Ethnographie du Congo. Kinshasa: Editions Universitaires and Brussels: Centre de recherche et d’information socio-politiques, Vol. 35. Vansina, Jan 1990. Paths in the Rainforest; Toward a History of Political Tradition in Equatorial Africa. Wisconsin: the University of Wisconsin Press. Ventola, Eija, 1995. 'Generic and Register Qualities of Texts and their Realisation' in: Fries & Gregory (eds.), 3-28. Verbeek, Léon. 1993. Initiation et mariage dans la chanson populaire des Bemba du Zaïre. Musée Royale de l’Afrique Centrale: Tervuren. Verhoeven, Ludo 1994. ‘Modeling and promoting functional literacy’, in: Verhoeven (ed.), 3-34. Verhoeven, Ludo (ed.) 1994. Functional Literacy; Theoretical Issues and Educational Implications; Studies in Written Language and Literacy, Vol.1, Amsterdam: John Benjamins. Verschueren, Jef (ed.) 1987. Linguistic Action Verbs: Some Empirical-Conceptual Studies. Norwood: N.J. Ablex. Vinck, Honoré 2002. ‘De studie van het schoolboek in Belgisch Kongo’, in: Bulletin Scéance Academique Sciences Outre-Mer, Vol. 46, 2: 83-100. Virtanen, Tuija & Helena Halmari 2005. ‘Persuasion across genres; Emerging perspectives’, in: Halmari & Virtanen (eds.), 3-24. Voeltz, Erhard & Christa Kilian-Hatz 2001. Ideophones. Amsterdam/Philadelpia: Benjamins. Vorbichler, Anton 1979. Die Oralliteratur der Balese-Efe im Ituri-Wald (Nordost Zaïre) St. Augustin bei Bonn: Institut Anthropos Verlag. Watson-Gegeo, Karen Ann & Geoffrey M. White (eds.)1995. Disentangling: conflict disourse in Pacific societies. Stanford: Stanford University Press. Wenger, Robin 1995. Language Program Planning, Four SIL Projects in Eastern Zaire, (Master’s Thesis) Dallas: University of Texas. Whiteley, W.H. (ed.) 1971. Language Use and Social Change; Problems of Multilingualism with Special Reference to Eastern African. Oxford: International African Institute & Oxford University Press. Widdowson, H.G. 1983. Learning Purpose and Language Use. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Wild, Emma 1999. ‘”Is it witchcraft? Is it Satan? It is a miracle, ” Mai-mai soldiers and Christian Concepts of Evil in North-East Congo’, in: Journal of Religion in Africa, Vol.29: 450-467. Wilkie. David. S. 1989. Impact of roadside agriculture on subsistence hunting in the Ituri Forest of northeastern Zaire. American Journal of Physical Anthropology 78: 485-94. Wold, A.H. (ed.) 1992. The Dialogical Alternative. Oslo: Scandinavian University Press. Yates, Barbara A. 1980. 'The Origins of Language in Zaire' in: The Journal of Modern African Studies. Vol.18, 2. Cambridge. Yates, Joanne & Orlikowski, Wanda J. 1992. ‘Genres of organizational communication: A structurational Approach to studying communication and media.” Academy of Management Review Vol. 17, 2: 299-326.

444 Young, Crawford 1994. 'Zaire, the Shatterd Illusion of the Integral State' in: The Journal of Modern African Studies Vol. 32: 247-63. Zhu, Yunxia 2005. Written Communication across Cultures: A sociocognitive perspective on business genres. Amsterdam/Philadelphia: John Benjamins.

445 Samenvatting van het proefschrift getiteld:

‘Het creatief gebruik van genrekenmerken; patronen van taalgebruik en taalverandering in het Boedoe, een Bantoetaal van Congo (Kinshasa)’

Hoofdstuk 1 – Het creatief gebruik van genrekenmerken; inleiding

Dit onderzoek naar het creatief gebruik van genrekenmerken gaat m.n. over het Boedoe, een Bantoetaal in Congo (Kinshasa). Onconventioneel gebruik van genrekenmerken wordt vaak gezien als gevolg van invloeden van buitenaf. Vooral bij taalcontact waarin bepaalde modellen van geschreven of gedrukte genres een prominente rol spelen, wordt de verandering van de eigen taal vaak verklaard als invloed van die modellen. In mijn onderzoek probeer ik in de eerste plaats het conventionele taalgebruik in kaart te brengen. Creatief taalgebruik in het Budu, een Bantoetaal in Congo (Kinshasa), probeer ik vervolgens te verklaren als afwijking van bestaande conventies. Ik onderzoek of creatief taalgebruik in het Boedoe in het verlengde van het conventionele taalgebruik kan worden geanalyseerd. Daarbij kijk ik m.n. of, met behulp van de notie prototype, creatief taalgebruik in het onderzoeksbestand kan worden verklaard. Een benadering van taalvariatie waarin conventioneel taalgebruik, in al haar complexiteit, kan worden bestudeerd, is het theoretisch kader van Biber (Biber 1988; 1995). Biber gaat uit van rekbare genrecategorieën die bepaald worden door de situaties waarin een tekstsoort doorgaans gebruikt wordt. Toch leidt hij uit het clusteren van bepaalde vormen ook een prototypisch taalgebruik af, waar formele kenmerken met bepaalde tekstsoorten zijn verbonden. Volwassen sprekers lijken die prototypen te hanteren als cognitieve herkenningspunten bij het interpreteren van taalgebruik. Een probleem bij het gebruik van Biber’s theoretisch kader is, dat genrekenmerken slechts door hun samenhang met elkaar worden geactiveerd, terwijl het in creatief taalgebruik vaak zo lijkt, dat slechts enkele losse genrekenmerken een rol spelen. Nu is het in de psychologie bekend, dat prototypes kunnen worden geactiveerd door een gedeeltelijke weergave van het kader waar ze voor staan. In de taalkunde heeft Östman (2005) laten zien dat het weglaten van delen van lexicale collocaties soms een dergelijke functie heeft: het activeert een verborgen strekking van de tekst. In propaganda kan de strekking van een tekst op die manier ‘impliciet’ worden ‘verankerd’ in een tekst. Dat gebeurt niet toevallig in propaganda. Propaganda is in het Engels namelijk sociaal ongewenst. Hoewel Östman (2005) het over Engels lexicale collocaties heeft, denk ik dat creatief gebruik van genrekenmerken in het Boedoe net zo werkt. Ook in het Boedoe kan de strekking van een bepaalde tekst sociaal niet wenselijk zijn. Een creatief gebruik van genrekenmerken zou dan onder meer kunnen betekenen dat het gebruik van losse vormen een heel kader activeert, waardoor de strekking van een tekst verandert. Biber beweert dat creatief taalgebruik een belangrijke voedingsbodem voor taalverandering vormt (1994:27).1 Als er in het Boedoe al sprake van ‘los’ gebruik van kenmerken van taalvariatie zou zijn, blijft natuurlijk de vraag waarom dat zo is en of er een bepaalde strekking moet worden verhuld, en zo ja waarom dan. Het lijkt me zinvol bij de beantwoording van deze vragen de veronderstelling dat het gaat om het activeren van prototypes in gedachte te houden. Waarschijnlijk wordt er net als bij andere prototypes gestreefd naar opvallende kenmerken die verwantschap met bestaande prototypen activeren. Om uit te vinden of het toepassen van het prototype concept inderdaad verheldering biedt op het creatief gebruik van genrekenmerken, moet eerst uitgebreid worden vastgesteld welk conventioneel taalgebruik bestaat in het Boedoe, om pas in het laatste hoofdstuk terug te komen op de onderzoeksvraag.

Hoofdstuk 2 De gemeenschap van de Boedoesprekers

Veranderingen in de gemeenschap hebben zijn weerslag in het taalgebruik. Crofts beweert dat taaluitingen soms in een enigszins gewijzigde vorm worden herhaald door een bepaalde groep. Een Hilversumse ‘r’ bijvoorbeeld kan door een groep worden gebruikt om zichzelf te onderscheiden van de rest van de taalgemeenschap. Als dat taalgebruik vervolgens door de hele taalgemeenschap wordt overgenomen, heeft zich een taalverandering voltrokken (uitgebreid beschreven in hoofdstuk 7 van zijn 2001 handboek over taalverandering). De politieke organisatie van de Boedoe sprekers betrof tot voor kort verwantschapslijnen die autonoom opereerden. Slechts voor militaire actie werden coalities in het leven geroepen. Daardoor zijn de Boedoe nooit geïntegreerd in de overheersende Mangbetoe vorstendommen of in de prinselijke overwinningen van de Zande. Economisch bleven ze door hun zoutproductie en palmolieplantages onafhankelijk van buurvolken, zelfs van de Pygmeeën met wie veel andere volken partnerschappen ontwikkelden. Door deze betrekkelijke onafhankelijkheid ontwikkelden zich in de taal sterke conventies voor het vormgeven van communicatieve strekking in tekstverband.

1Virtanen en Halmari bespreken de ontwikkeling van eufemismes en overtuigende teksten, (2005:231), waarbij ze stellen dat sociaal minder wenselijke communicatiedoelen meestal worden verhuld met creatieve taal.

446 Niet conventioneel taalgebruik wordt alleen herhaald als het in een bepaald verband voor bepaalde sprekers een extra betekenis krijgt. Als taalgebruikssituaties ongewijzigd blijven binnen een gesloten netwerk, is het ook niet erg waarschijnlijk dat er snel taalveranderingen plaatsvinden. Afwijkende betekenissen zijn in zulke situaties niet relevant. Vanaf 1885 begon er voor de Boedoe sprekers echter een tijd van hevige bedreigingen door invasies van slavendrijvers uit Zanzibar. Vanaf het begin van de 20e eeuw exploiteert de koloniale overheid het zeer vruchtbare Wamba district om er rubber, katoen en koffie vandaan te halen. In de jaren twintig werden er gezondheidsklinieken van het Rode Kruis opgericht en missieposten met scholen. Een vertakte maatschappij met specialisten in ziekenhuizen en op scholen was het gevolg. In de jaren veertig vertegenwoordigden zowel kerkelijke netwerken als het wegennet dat werd aangelegd om de gewassen af te voeren een verhevigde vorm van taalcontact. De invloed van buitenaf werd duidelijk door de taalgebruik in nieuwe instituten. Tegen de jaren negentig waren de taalgebruikssituaties voor Boedoesprekers zo drastisch veranderd, dat zich langzaamaan nieuwe conventies begonnen te ontwikkelen voor het eigen taalgebruik. Gewijzigde taaluitingen en hun afwijkende betekenissen werden opeens relevant voor hele groepen Boedoesprekers. De taalverandering die Crofts’ (2000) ‘propagation’ noemt voltrekt zich alleen als een hele taalgemeenschap een afwijkende vorm met corresponderende afwijkende betekenis als normaal is gaan gebruiken. Zowel Vansina (1990) als Aunger (1996) maken melding van de opmerkelijke openheid voor verandering van de Boedoespekers.2 In dit onderzoek probeer ik te zien welke interne factoren deze openheid zouden kunnen verklaren, althans in zoverre de ingevoerde veranderingen in het taalgebruik kunnen worden herleid tot bestaande dimensies van taalvariatie.

Hoofdstuk 3 – Taalvormen in het Boedoe; een linguïstische schets

Twee speciale kenmerken typeren het Boedoe als een zg. Border of Forest Bantoe (D) taal (Grégoire 2003:343). Vocaalharmonie in het hele fonologische woord en bestaan van een stijgende toon kenmerken het klanksysteem. In de woordbouw bestaan meer lexicale dan syntactische uitdrukkingen van tijd, aspect en modus. De herkenning van losse woorddelen wordt makkelijker gemaakt doordat de klinkerkwaliteit stelselmatig door de woordwortel wordt bepaald. Als de kwaliteit van de wortel door een zg. Advanced Tongue Root wordt bepaald, worden de affixen ook door deze kwaliteit bepaald. Uitzonderingen zijn een aantal morfemen die zich niet aanpassen. Door zulke uitzonderingen in de klinkerkwaliteit worden bepaalde grenzen tussen woorddelen duidelijk. Ook het lexicaal uitdrukken van tijd, modus en aspect vergemakkelijken het herkennen van de werkwoordsvormen, waarin veel grammaticale verschillen verder alleen door toon worden onderscheiden. De woordenschat bevat allerlei leenwoorden uit het Mangbetoe, het Swahili en het Frans. De vorm van deze leenwoorden geeft aan dat het Boedoe een duidelijke CVCV structuur aanhoudt. In deze structuur zijn sommige medeklinkers geprenasaliseerd of labio-velair van aard. Het Boedoe is een duidelijke border Bantoe taal in de zin dat het is omgeven door andere taalfamilies, waarvan het soms lexicale en zelfs fonologische kenmerken heeft overgenomen zonder de nominale classificatie die zo kenmerkend is voor het Bantoe te verliezen.

Hoofdstuk 4 – De relatie tussen genre en taalvorm

Honderd terugkerende taalvormen werden geselecteerd om het corpus met 417 teksten mee te coderen. De 16 genres van het corpus werden als hoofdgenres gelabeld en nog eens 14 ingebedde genres met tekstdialogen werden als aparte genrecategorieën gelabeld. Alle vormen die van een code werden voorzien zijn opgesomd in een lijst die wordt besproken in hoofdstuk 4, waar ook wordt aangegeven welke vormen uiteindelijk niet meededen in het tellen van de frequentie waarmee alle vormen voorkomen in de genres. Onderscheid tussen vormen werd gemaakt op basis van vormverschillen, met als uitzondering homofonen die door hun positie in de zin als verschillend kunnen worden aangemerkt. Ook een lijst met alle hoofdgenres, die in door Boedoe sprekers werden gelabeld, wordt in dit hoofdstuk besproken. Ik verwijs hierbij naar observaties die ik zelf in het Boedoe gebied deed toen ik daar tussen 1995 en 1998 woonde. Vooral de opmerkingen over de fragmenten met dialogen en monologen in 14 ingebedde genres zijn van belang. Hoewel de teksten in het tekstbestand maar één genrelabel per tekst meekregen bij de transcribatie van geluidsopnames, bleken de sprekers in discussies over de teksten wel steeds dezelfde genrenamen te gebruiken om te verwijzen naar bepaalde ingebedde genres. Fisher Yates testen werden gebruikt om de distributie van taalvormen over genres te onderzoeken: eerst alleen in de hoofdgenres, en daarna, onafhankelijk in alle ingebedde genres apart. Zo werd het conventioneel gebruik van taalvormen in beeld gebracht om straks het creatief gebruik van losse genrekenmerken mee te gaan vergelijken.

2 Vansina (1990) heeft er zelfs een heel hoofdstuk aan gewijd getiteld: the death of a tradition, terwijl Aunger het alleen heeft over de afnemende rol die bezweringen en magie spelen in de verstedelijking.

447

Hoofdstuk 5 – Conventioneel taalgebruik in de hoofdgenres

De relatie tussen taalvormen en genres van taalgebruik wordt in dit hoofdstuk in twee delen beschreven. Eerst worden alle correlaties als resultaten van het kwantitatief onderzoek gepresenteerd en besproken. Dan worden de observaties over clusters van taalvormen bessproken. Het eerste cluster lijkt vooral onderscheid uit te drukken tussen teksten mét, en teksten zonder een presentatie van gebeurtenissen in een temporeel-verbonden wijze. Dat cluster komt nl wel in alle verhalende genres voor en is stelselmatig afwezig in liederen en andere losse teksten. Het tweede cluster verdeelt het hele tekstbestand in genres met expliciet geformuleerde informatie en genres met impliciete informatieoverdracht. Het derde cluster weerspiegelt het onderscheid tussen genres met een direct appel op de toehoorder en genres zonder dergelijk appel. Het vierde cluster bestaat uit taalvormen die de toehoorders bij de tekst betrekken, het vijfde houdt verband met de omstandigheden waarin de genres worden geproduceerd en het zesde geeft uitdrukking aan bijna alle beleefdheidsstrategieën die Brown en Levinson in hun werk (1978) opsommen als pogingen om de sociale waardigheid van de toehoorder te beschermen of cultiveren. De onderscheidende rol die deze zes clusters in het Boedoe taalgebruik spelen wordt in de eerste plaats bepaald door de functie die, in elk cluster, door de meeste vormen ervan wordt gedeeld. Er zijn twee stappen om de functie van een cluster te bepalen. Hoofdstuk 5 vertegenwoordigt eigenlijk slechts één stap om dit te doen d.m.v. een analyse van de vormen in elk cluster. In hoofdstuk 7 komen de verschillen en overeenkomsten tussen de onderscheiden genres aan de orde. Dat is de tweede stap in de functionele interpretatie van de clusters.

Hoofdstuk 6 - Conventioneel taalgebruik in de ingebedde genres

De relatie tussen de taalvormen en de ingebedde genres wordt in dit hoofdstuk aan de hand van vier tabellen besproken. Dialogen en ook monologen in verhalen zijn dramatisch gezien vooral van belang vanwege het genre taalgebruik dat de spreker hanteert. Dat wordt ondersteunt door de niet-talige enscenering van veel fragmenten (muziek, stemgebruik, tempowisselingen). In de eerste plaats wordt een groep kenmerken besproken die alleen in specifieke genres voorkomen. Omdat een aantal van hen ook als kenmerk van het hoofdgenre voorkomt, wordt door dit extra onderzoek duidelijk dat het taalgebruik in de fragmenten hier de kenmerken van het hoofdgenre bepaalt. Ongeveer evenveel taalvormen worden gebruikt om onderscheid te maken tussen de verschillende soorten ingebedde genres. Er blijken duidelijke prototypes met dialogen en monologen te bestaan, die telkens als ingebedde genres worden gebruikt en als dusdanig herkend. Een derde groep met vormen komt in alle ingebedde genres voor, en een vierde groep is eenvoudigweg te zeldzaam om mee te tellen (dat zijn bijv. de spraakintroducerende werkwoorden, die door hun aard vooral in de hoofdgenres, en niet in ingebedde genres voorkomen). Genres met dialogen en monologen zijn heel anders van taalgebruik dan de narratieve hoofdgenres waarin ze zijn ingebed. Dat het taalgebruik beknopter is dan in onafhankelijke genres is niet vreemd. Door de iconische verwijzing naar de genres in het dagelijkse taalgebruik zijn deze genres van nature ingekort. Ze geven aan dat Boedoe sprekers gewend zijn te spelen met dialogen, zoals Barber (1989) dat vermoedt in andere Afrikaanse talen.

Hoofdstuk 7 – Zes parameters van Boedoe taalgebruik

In dit hoofdstuk worden, als vervolg op de beschrijving van zes clusters, zes parameters van taalgebruik beschreven. Het gaat hierbij om de tweede stap in de functionele interpretatie van de zes clusters van vormen die tegelijk met elkaar in één set van genres voorkomen. Elke dimensie taalvariatie wordt opgevat als één onderscheid waarbij een set genres met het clustergebruik in tegenstelling staat tot een set genres zonder het cluster. Een contrastieve analyse tussen de twee sets met genres verfijnt de interpretatie die al in hoofdstuk 5 werd gepresenteerd, op basis van een analyse van de taalvormen. De tweede dimensie met de expliciete formulering van informatie blijkt gerelateerd te zijn aan genres die conventioneel worden gebruikt voor kennisoverdracht, zoals dat in traditionele mentor-pupil relaties bestaat. In tegenstelling daarmee lijkt de presentatie van impliciete formuleringen alleen te kunnen voorkomen in situaties waarin kennis wordt gedeeld door de taalgebruikers. Die kennis kan hele complexe culturele zaken betreffen, waar met een half woord naar wordt verwezen in dergelijke genres.

448 Wat betreft de vijfde dimensie blijkt dat taal met overtollige woorden vaak wordt gebruikt in genres met jonge of onwetende toehoorders. Het ermee corresponderende contrast tussen im promptu geproduceerde teksten en zorgvuldig voorbereide teksten blijkt dus niet simpelweg te zijn terug te voeren op de productieomstandigheden. In tegenstelling tot andere talen waarin met de meerdimensionele aanpak van Biber (1995) naar taalvariatie is gekeken, blijkt in het Boedoe taalgebruik vooral de gemeenschap een belangrijke rol te spelen. Dat blijkt uit de conventionele clusters die in het taalgebruik rond vieringen voorkomen om de gemeenschap erbij te betrekken en uit het cluster met performatieve taal. Dat zesde cluster wordt doorgaans gebruikt om veranderingen teweeg te brengen voor de leden van de gemeenschap, bijvoorbeeld bij huwelijkssluitingen of bij de besnijdenis. De taaluitingen wekken de indruk dat er grote zorg wordt besteed aan het bewaren van de sociale waardigheid van alle leden. Het tweede deel van hoofdstuk 7 somt de kenmerken van prototypische tekstsoorten op. Wat betreft sociale veranderingen is het opvallend dat schooltaal en medische informatie in het Boedoe net zo worden uitgedrukt als alle andere vormen van kennisoverdracht. De klassikale lessen in Franstalige instituten hebben in het Boedoe geen geïnstitutionaliseerd karakter gekregen, waarschijnlijk omdat de natuurlijke kennisoverdracht plaatsvindt in inter-persoonlijk contact tussen mentor en pupil. In tegenstelling hiermee, zijn kerkgerelateerde genres wel geïnstitutionaliseerd. Ze worden nl. door dezelfde taalkenmerken onderscheiden als performatief taalgebruik, bijv. in besnijdenisliederen, dierenverhalen en andere instituties van de Boedoe waarin een zorg voor de sociale waardigheid van gemeenschapsleden wordt bewaard. Kerkgerelateerde genres zijn waarschijnlijk vooral relevant geworden door hun vermogen om sociale cohesie teweeg te brengen, in een periode waarin de dorpsgemeenschappen werden versnipperd. De nieuwe sociale context verklaart de relevantie van veranderd taalgebruik.

Hoofdstuk 8 – Het creatief gebruik van genrekenmerken

In dit hoofdstuk wordt het creatief taalgebruik in een paar teksten van een nieuwer genre geanalyseerd in relatie tot het conventioneel taalgebruik. De twee teksten met medische informatie vertonen gelijkenissen met elkaar. Dat wekt de indruk dat er een bepaalde strategie is gebruikt in reactie op bepaalde veranderingen van kennisoverdracht. Fairclough (1989) heeft het over het naturaliseren van taalgebruik door een mix van taalgebruikskenmerken. Volgens hem is een dergelijke naturalisatie een reactie die typisch optreedt in tijden van verandering en verwarring. Omdat er m.n. in de gezondheidszorg één en ander is veranderd in het Wamba district, wordt dit uitgebreid toegelicht. Verder brengt een vergelijking van kennisoverdracht- genres aan het licht dat er tussen oude en nieuwe genres zoiets bestaat als een ‘intertekstueel gat’ in de terminologie van Bauman and Briggs 1992; en Bauman (2001). Met drie vergelijkingspunten uit de stroming van de New Rethorics (Miller 1994, Mayes 2003) bespreek ik de verschillen tussen medische informatie en eerdere genres met kennisoverdracht in het Boedoe. Halmari and Virtanen (2005) bespreken overbruggingsstrategieën om intertekstuele gaten te kunnen hanteren met wat zij ‘intergenres’ noemen. Een dergelijk intergenre lijkt inderdaad te zijn gebruikt in de besproken teksten, gezien het aantal innovatieve tekstkenmerken die, in beide, zijn gebruikt. Zowel in de toespraak van de man als in het geschreven verhaal van de vrouwelijke auteur vallen vooral de subtiele verwijzingen op naar persoonlijke ervaring. Het lijkt erop, dat, naast uitgebreide theoretische uiteenzettingen, een eigen kennis van de feiten wenselijk is. Het gebruik van bijvoeglijke naamwoorden was bijvoorbeeld voorbehouden aan oudere en ervaren leden van de gemeenschap, die ze in het genre van de spreuken kort en bondig gebruikten om hun oordeel over een sociaal probleem te vellen tijdens een palaver. Bijvoeglijke naamwoorden gebruiken in lange uiteenzettingen is op zijn minst twijfelachtig, zoals ook blijkt uit het voorbeeld van het theaterstukfragment, waarin een dronken student door oneigenlijk gebruik van zulke taalvormen de spot drijft met de gezwollen schooltaal van onervaren leerkrachten. Ook zijn de twee niet-performatieve teksten een illustratie van het impliciete verankeren (zoals in Östman 2005) van performatief taalgebruik. De ingebedde verwijten en morele adviezen proberen, in tegenstelling tot de uiteenzettingen in de tekst, wel degelijk veranderingen tot stand te brengen onder de toehoorders en lezers. Dat lijkt veel op een poging om langdradige en vrijblijvende medische uiteenzettingen te naturaliseren met gezaghebbende taal uit Boedoe instituties, zoals de uitspraken van een natuurlijk genezer, die voorheen de sociale rol vervulde van hulperverlener bij medische problemen. Het lijkt alsof de taalgebruikers op twee niveaus hebben willen communiceren. Ten eerste verstrekken ze informatie over levensbedreigende gezondheidsrisico’s. Ten tweede stellen ze bepaalde waardes aan de kaak. Ze doen dat laatste met strategieën die in aloude vertellingen steeds worden gebruikt om bedrog te ontmaskeren. Dit creatief gebruik van conventioneel taalgebruik toont aan dat de factoren die vanouds de vormen van het taalgebruik bepalen nog steeds springlevend zijn. In tegenstelling daarmee, zijn de invloeden van buitenaf slechts een laagje vernis, dat alleen wordt geïntegreerd in de eigen taaluitingen wanneer dat zo te pas komt (de bijvoeglijke naamwoorden).

449 Hoofdstuk 9 – Conclusie en samenvatting

Ik kom tot de conclusie dat een meerdimensionele aanpak van taalvariatie het mogelijk maakt cultuurspecifieke factoren vast te stellen die van invloed zijn op welke taalverandering dan ook, inclusief op genres die in alfabetisering worden ontwikkeld. Het creatief gebruik van een enkel genrekenmerk kan naar een cluster in zijn totaliteit verwijzen, of althans, dat zou het vernieuwend taalgebruik in de twee besproken teksten in hoofdstuk 8 verklaren als oplossing in reactie op spanningen die er door de invloed van buitenaf ontstaan. Het activeren van een mentaal kader door gebruik van een enkel kenmerk is mogelijk geworden in het Boedoe, omdat zich in deze taalgemeenschap lange tijd vaste metalinguïstische boodschappen bestonden die door het strak vasthouden aan bestaande conventies ontwikkeld waren. Teksten met natuurlijk taalgebruik kunnen dus ook onconventioneel taalgebruik bevatten. Zo lang de contrasten worden gewaarborgd die in de belangrijkste communicatieve dimensies van de taal worden onderscheiden door taalgebruik, is onconventioneel of creatief taalgebruik natuurlijk. Taalcontact met model genres uit hiërarchisch georganiseerde culturen lijken een nadruk op de egalitaire organisatie van de Boedoe gemeenschap teweeg te brengen. Creatief taalgebruik kan de spanning oplossen die ontstaat door het gebruik van ‘vreemde’ taal, dat, zoals de bijvoeglijke naamwoorden, ambivalent is in het Boedoe omdat het lijkt alsof de spreker zich erop laat voorstaan persoonlijke ervaring te hebben. Creatief taalgebruik is dus hard nodig voor de voortzetting van het Boedoe taalgebruik. De belangrijkste conclusie is, dat creativiteit taalgebruikers in staat stelt om informatie in beknopte vorm weer te geven, inclusief alle iconische en metaforische verwijzingen die een bepaalde vorm vertegenwoordigt. Het is wel belangrijk om te analyseren met welke andere taalkenmerken een vorm dan stelselmatig clustert. Want door de cultuurspecifieke eigenschappen die een vorm als deel van een cluster in zich draagt, kan het een heel cognitief kader activeren. Biber’s dimensies van taalvariatie laten zich, althans in het Boedoe, goed beschrijven als cognitieve referentiekaders. Het creatief gebruik van taalvormen die zulke dimensies onderscheiden is niet alleen een sterke indicatie voor de realiteit van prototype genres, maar ook van de cultureel-cognitieve prototypen die communicatieve dimensies vertegenwoordigen. Een natuurlijk taalgebruik laat zich dan definiëren als taalgebruik dat de voortzetting van bestaande prototypes zo herkenbaar mogelijk maakt ondanks het gebruik van, in relatie tot deze prototypes ambivalente taalvormen in moderne communicatie. Toekomstig onderzoek zal uit moeten wijzen hoe bruikbaar deze definitie is.

450