DOES “SUYA” MEAN “KEBAB” IN HAUSA LANGUAGE?
(Etymology Of “Suya”, The Hausa/Nigerian English/Pidgin Word For “Kebab” & the Integrity of African Culinary Heritage)
In contemporary Nigerian English & Nigerian Pidgin English, “suya” is the local name for the Hausa “kebab”, “steak”, or “meat barbecue” dish. This name is a direct adaptation of the Hausa name for the meat delicacy, except that, in reality, it has not always been the case among Hausa native speakers. The popularity of the term “suya” is a recent development, which began courtesy of mainstream usage among non-Hausa people, and in southern Nigeria-based newspapers, movies, and recently on social media. On the strength of greater frequency of usage, “suya” as the modern name of kebab is so assimilated into Nigerian parlance that it is now the industry code for every restaurant or food joint serving this dish. Thus we have popular kebab shops going by the business names of “Yahuza Suya, Zaria Suya”, etc. Regardless that Hausa native speakers did not carry the word into Nigerian lingo, the term has since made it into Hausa writing in newspapers, novels, and even academic papers.
The unpublished Cambridge Dictionary of Nigerian English has this single entry for the word “suya: noun. kebab, roasted meat on stick”, with origin credited to Hausa language. It was no surprise that the “original and true” Hausa word for “kebab”, which happened to be “tsire” was not featured there at all. Reason is “tsire” has not as yet got into Nigerian English or even Nigerian Pidgin, as the case with “suya”. Hausa has actively contributed to Nigerian Pidgin English, just as it’s historically been imperialistic and hegemonic, both linguistically and culturally.
Now, how and why did “suya” successfully assume the meaning of kebab over the real Hausa word “tsire”? Historically, kebab hawkers in bus stops and village markets habitually call out “[delicious] suya” while advertising their products. It’s still common to meet a kebab seller in his shade chanting “suya”, as he rearranges the meat on tapered skewers and stokes the smoldering coal. This practice is not limited to Nigerian Hausa, as Hausa kebab vendors on the streets of Ghana were also observed repeating “suya-suya”. While to native Hausas, the kebab seller is only praising his delicacy the same way a baker would say “oven fresh”, or a barista would say “hot brew”, when complimenting their culinary creation. But to non-Hausa, this advert catchphrase was simply construed to be the name of the kebab dish itself.
Considering the ease of pronunciation, it should have been expected that “suya” would get faster assimilation and precedence as a borrowed word among non-Hausa speakers, rather than “tsire”, which is often difficult to pronounce correctly by the non-natives. This is also true since the word borrowing was oral, not written or formal.
However, it’s still most common for Hausa native speakers to call kebab “tsire”, while referring to the “spicy piece of meat such as is sold in the market impaled on a stick” (CH Robinson). In general, the word “tsire” is a gerund from the Hausa verb “tsire”, which means to “pierce, spear, spike, or crucify”. When used in cooking, it means “to transfix or skewer meat” meant to be grilled by an open fire, charcoal, or any source of heat. “Tsire” the meat is commonly roasted on an open fire made from burning logs of wood, prepared over a brick or earthen platform (tukuba), or mound on the ground. No wonder many Hausa native speakers frown at the sway of “suya” as the Nigerian name for kebab, as only a few of them would use the term, except when speaking English or Creole.
Indeed, the greatest semantic travesty is the use of the name “suya” to refer to all types of meat dishes sold on the roadside, as long as its cooked on an open fire. In Hausa language, there is a clear difference between “tsire”, “balangu”, and “gashe” meat varieties. While “tsire” is always skewered and coated with mixed spices, “balangu” is grilled and simmered inside marinade of fat, spices, and vegetables, over a long period of time that allows for soaking of the sauce. It is thus marinated, overcooked, and fluffy meat. “Gashe” or “gasasshen nama” is roast meat broiled or singed on a grill over open fire, charcoal, or heat, more in the style of barbecue. In short, “tsire” in the purist sense is strictly an indigenous “kebab” dish that is a spicy, and smeared in peanut powder-based mixed spices, which is unique to Hausa people of West Africa.
One may sloppily argue that the meat referred to as “suya”, traditionally called “tsire” has nothing to do with the act of “suya” (frying). It should not be forgotten that in Hausa “suya” also means “roasting”, as in “soya gyaɗa” (roasting peanut). Hence, roasted or grilled meat can qualify as “suya”. Secondly, it’s true that when meat is roasted/grilled, Hausa conventionally say “gasa, gasu, gashi” (to roast, roasted, roasting); not “soya, soyayye, suya” (fry, fried, frying). But we semantically refer to any form of food preparation/cooking done without water as “suya”. Thirdly, in Hausa, “suya” means “frying”, but also “frying or cooking style”, such as deep-frying, pan-frying, and flash-frying. In anyway, “suya” is from the root word “soya”, which means “to fry, roast, or sear”, as in “soya kifi” (fry fish).
“Soye” is another word of the same root, and it both means “fried meat” sold in tiny saucers or cups in the village markets. Since “soye” in Hausa also means “frying/roasting style”, this particular word would have been deemed the natural origin of “suya as kebab”, through semantic assimilation. But “soye” is a dated word among contemporary Hausa speakers, not to talk of it getting adopted by non-Hausa speakers across the geographical divide of southern Nigeria. Ironically, in old-fashioned Hausa, “tsire” meat is called “agashe”, meaning “[meat] in roast form”, and this peculiar term currently remains popular in Sudanese Hausa dialect.
Away from this philological debate of “suya” versus “tsire” in Hausa and Nigerian English, it is also a fact that the English word “kebab/kabab/kabob” is not from native English, as it has various origins in Arabic, Urdu, Persian, and Turkish. Today, “kebab” is cheaply used to refer to the original Asian and Middle Eastern dish of “roast meet skewered over an open fire”, or the more Western/continental version of “pieces of meat, fish, or vegetables roasted or grilled on a skewer or spit”.
There is also this monumental fact regarding the history of another related English word, “barbecue”, which is of Hausa origin! “Barbecue” reached the English language via Hausa-speaking slaves taken from West Africa to the Americas, as I disclosed in my 2018 Twitter post. I highlighted this discovery of the fact that the English word “barbecue” was coined from the Hausa root word “babbake”. “Hausa people use the term “babbake” to mean singeing, grilling, toasting, or cooking food over an open fire. Though this is not the only hypothesis in the etymology of this word, as my sources have also recognized an alternate origin in the Arawak language of the aboriginal people of the Caribbean/West Indies, even as such evidences were mostly essays, which may/mayn’t constitute “scientific article”. Indeed, a lot is left to be studied of the cuisine aspect of international migration from Africa.
Back to the main discussion, my argument is for African languages to stand up to the imperial arrogance of major world languages, by challenging mainstream “bias”, and remaining assertive on what’s ours, even if Google, Wikipedia, or the whole Internet relegate it. In spite of cultural appropriation of multiple elements of African heritage, from fashion to cuisine, English has the tendency to not adopt African original terms via phonetic borrowing or assimilation. Other world languages have been more successful with global English, in terms of cuisine migration, as their indigenous foods maintain their aboriginal names. Examples of these loan words into English include Italian pizza and macaroni, Mexican Spanish taco and burrito, Japanese sushi and tofu, Urdu biryani and samosa, etc.
Starting with cuisine vocabulary, Hausa and African languages must fight to take the upper hand in naming their indigenous dishes into world languages, such that they maintain their African identity. The fundamental argument here is for African languages to ensure and insist that for all those dishes for which a particular African culture has verifiable original “ownership”, whether by virtue of being the original geography for the major plant or ingredient for its making; or for having invented the original recipe.
Thus, Hausa dishes of “kilishi, dambun nama, and ɗanwake” must not be renamed “beef jerky, meat floss, and bean flour dumpling” respectively. As for those dishes for which Hausa culture shares with other major cultures, especially when we already missed being the first to export it to the world, such as Japanese “tofu”, Hausa people should accept this Japanese loanword as the English name for what they locally call “awara” (irrespective of the fact that Hausa has more speakers than Japanese language).
