Is it Makoti or Maak ons tee?

A while back, a friend asked me, “did you know that the word makoti comes from the Afrikaans (and/or Dutch) expression, ‘Maak ons tee’”? He then proceeded to show some Facebook posts related to that.

From that moment, I was so dumbstruck, the only sounds I could summon came out of my nose;  “mm umh!!!!” (in a Xhosa accent too). My initial reaction was denial. After all it just could not be. I mean, marriage a thing that was so sacred to the culture, how could it be tainted with such distaste?

But deep within, in the midst of that denial, I had a lingering thought, reluctant and yet stubbornly persistent and most importantly also disturbing, “If this is true, then it is also consistent with the well established norm of the receiving families treating oomakoti as servants; some to the extent of reducing them to servitude; an insidious bondage.”

So I decided to investigate. The approach would be simple enough: try to establish whether the word has any etymological roots in isiNtu languages or confirm once and for all that it is in fact a child of borrowing.

At first glance appeared difficulty. The word is so ingrained within the fabric of the language, and so common that it is almost inconceivable to consider it borrowed. It’s structure is also somewhat convincing: ma + ko + ti. It is composed of 3 “proper” syllables (i.e. each composed of a Consonant and Vowel: CV+CV+CV); a classic structure in complete acquiescence to the demands of the language unlike the obvious suspects like iglavu (a glove) which tend to offend the tongue (CCV). Was this a wild goose chase?

So I broke the word up; ma + koti. Ma- (alongside No-) is a common prefix used to indicate femininity and quite adept at new word creation. It is even used in family names (e.g. Mgqwashu is the male, MaMgqwashu is the female). Similar to mafungwashe, here we are dealing with a female designation so the ma- seems fitting. However ma- also pays visit as a class 6 noun prefix (i.e. ama/ma). In this form it is also useful in the creation of new terms. These affix devices contribute much to the fluidity of the language and its uncanny ability to assimilate foreign words such that even to discerning eyes, some appear comfortably at home.

Take the word -mageza as in ooMageza (a reference to taxi drivers). The term is composed of ma (class 6 noun prefix) + geza (an isiZulu word meaning to wash/bath). It is in fact a compressed form of the expression “ooMageza etepini” which in English means “Those who wash from a tap”. A joke or lament regarding their hygiene; that they don’t really bath but wake up early, sprinkle themselves up with some tap water and head to work and the passengers bare the brunt of the indiscretion by way of contending with offensive smells (sometimes complemented by a certain belligerence).

This adaptation is also apparent in the word amaphuma: ama (noun 6 suffix) + phuma (to go out or emanate [from]). A label, I was told, is assigned by people from Jo’burg to people from outside of Jo’burg (particularly amaXhosa). The term came about as a result of these foreign folks, upon returning home, going around bragging that, baphum’eJozi (They come from Jo’burg) even after spending only a few days there. This became so common that these folks were labeled amaphum’eJozi and later dropping the Jozi part altogether to become amaphuma; a term obviously loaded with context. This loading is quite common in isiNtu language machinations. Take also the word ooveza (RDP houses). The word is rooted in veza which means to reveal, show or bring to light.

So how did RDP houses come to be associated with that? The houses were so small (especially early on) that people used to joke that one could stand inside, spread their arms and that they (the arms or legs if someone was laying down) would protrude on either side of the building. So the houses came to be known as oovez’iingalo (The arm revealers) or oovez’imilenze (The leg revealers) and some even going as far as calling them oovez’iindlebe (The ear revealers an allusion that even if you’re inside the house somewhere, without any effort such as lifting your arms, your ears would protrude outside). Again here, the last word eventually got dropped creating a context loaded word; uveza (singular) or ooveza (plural); noun classes 1a and 2a respectively.

What was left then was the koti part of the breakup. A sizable portion of nouns in isiXhosa are deverbal; they are derived from verbs (usually directive). So you would have a verb like xoka (i.e. lie) and from that verb get ixoki (a liar) and amaxoki (liars) among other nouns. The transformation of the trailing a to an i usually suggests the noun is referring to a doer (a person, thing or process that does what the verb instructs). So however remote, there quite possibly was, lurking under there, a directive verb from where our makoti was born. It could possibly take the form kota (i.e. ukukota). But my search for that bore no fruit. Leaving still an appreciable probability that this was in fact a borrowing but the jury was still out.

This time, I decided to fix my gaze not at the word itself but at tea! My question was, “Off all the possible things, why tea?” Could this be a far-fetched co-incidence?

Follow the journey to next part (Part 2: Following the scent of tea!) where we delve deep into the surrounding context; following that tea’s aroma!

Is it Makoti or Maak ons tee to you?