Long before I settled on my current research and thesis concept, I toyed with the idea of exploring language as an othering tool in the workplace because, to me, this was a lived experience. The thought grew out of my Discourse Analysis lessons, where it occurred to me that I had not really thought deeply about language and its potency, particularly in situations marked by power asymmetry.
“Language is a tool of ideological power.”
I remember my professor’s authoritative voice piercing the silence that hung between us, all six of us on the other side of our gadgets. Virtual lessons.
While invoking Critical Discourse Analysis, the good professor challenged us to think about how people use language to construct different realities, negotiate identities, and construct and perpetuate stereotypes. He is thorough and passionate- my teacher and guide.
I once worked in a learning institution where I learned very early on that newcomers were regarded with caution that almost bordered on suspicion. What you said or did had to be interrogated, screened, and counter-checked.
Then there was more.
Language.
Language was used to effectively place you where the powers that be had decided you belonged. This was communicated through word choice, tone, and other non-verbal signals. People at the level at which I worked at the time would be lucky to receive even a brow flash from Boss, let alone have their presence acknowledged.
A memory
I am arranging things on my desk, situated at the rear of the classroom, in readiness for the day. I am dressed in sportswear because it is our P.E. day. Boss enters, as usual, on her morning walks. I would later learn that they were called learning walks.
She heartily greets my counterpart and another colleague. Then she looks my way.
No greeting.
Just an observation—almost like an up-and-down sizing. A scan of sorts.
She tells my counterpart to tell ‘msichana’ to wear a top long enough to cover her hips. The message is gleefully delivered.
While I knew enough to understand that msichana is an actual Swahili word in the Kamusi, I also knew that, depending on context, it could be used derogatorily- to shrink, denigrate, and demean someone, or to strip them of their dignity, especially in a situation involving a power imbalance.
Some of us pick up barbs, not just words, but nuances, tone, body language- something I consider both a blessing and a curse.
A memory
I am resizing a paper for pasting. It is an English lesson. There is a Valentine’s bake sale, and we have been required to wear anything within the Valentine’s colour range: red or white.
I am in a black, knee-length bandage skirt, a white camisole, and a floral cover-up. It is floral, right? There are bluish, reddish, whitish patterns. The overall impression, however, is burgundy. I don’t know how this happens. Ha ha.
My counterpart is wearing black jeggings and a lovely red, flowing chiffon cover-up. It is purely red. Very beautiful.
The walks happen—the most terrible part of my days.
Boss greets the enthusiastic learners and then says, “Wow. Have you told Ms. X how gorgeous she looks?”
She is all smiles.
I remain fixed on my cutting.
She turns to me and says, with an almost repressed disdain, “Now this lady.”
Wanting so badly to be right on the clean books, to show that I had not disregarded the dress code, I lift my cover-up slightly to reveal the white.
Silence.
It stings. Oh, it stings.
That day was officially spoilt. And it began to look, judging from the patterns of language- both verbal and non-verbal- that perhaps that was the whole point: to crash me and everything I thought I was into nothingness.
In another instance, I would be referred to as “whoever” in an email addressed to someone else.
Given the dynamics highlighted by these experiences, I spent most of my days living in a state of perpetual, visceral apprehension. And if there is something Boss truly achieved with flying colours, it was making me to live in a state of constant alertness.
Slowly, my bravado began to wane.
Impostor syndrome set in.
Confidence dropped.
I no longer recognized myself.
Yet, I kept showing up.
That is what living in survival does to you.
A popular saying comes to mind: People know exactly what they are doing.
In hindsight, in that astonishing clarity that hindsight sometimes brings, the recurrence, the pattern, couldn’t have been coincidental.
I may not know what was happening in Boss’s mind, but I know where the language communicated to me repeatedly placed me, and what it did to my sense of self.
Perhaps that’s what power really is. It does not necessarily shout. Sometimes it looks like choosing whom to greet and whom to ignore. Whom to praise and whom to diminish, publicly. Sometime is reduces a person to whoever, msichana, and leaves them, without a care in the world, to grapple with the meaning.
And, come to think of it, is it not ludicrous that people at the helm can be so determined to dismember people with whom they have nothing to compete over? In my case, there was such a gulf between my desk and Boss’s.
So, yes, language does more than serve as a tool of communication.
It can position us, diminish us, define us, and in the hands of those who wield power, make us feel that we belong exactly where they have decided we belong.
Absolutely. It is both ludicrous and deeply unfortunate when those in positions of authority choose division and destruction where there is no genuine competition or threat. When the gap between the desks is already so wide, there should be room for mentorship, collaboration, and mutual respect—not unnecessary conflict. Leadership should build people up, not tear them apart.
Thanks for reading, Andrew. Thank you for your comment. 😊
I have always considered myself an overthinker and,quite proudly I carry that label.
I pay attention to language. The choice of words. The punctuation. The tone. The intonation. Body language. The pause before a response. Even the things that are not said.
Sometimes I wish I didn’t notice so much.
I am often scared of not meeting people’s expectations, particularly when those expectations come from someone in a position of authority. Yet interestingly,I can also be quite selfish about my comfort. I don’t always want to leave my comfort zone simply to please people. So there is this constant negotiation within me:am I genuinely being considerate or am I overthinking what someone might think of me?
Then I read Chela.
She has essentially put my kind of “being bothered” into literary terms.
What struck me most about her reflection on language as an othering tool is how she takes something we encounter every day and makes us stop and examine it. A word can be perfectly innocent in a dictionary and yet carry an entirely different weight when delivered within a particular power dynamic.
“Msichana.Whoever.Now this lady.”
A greeting given to one person and withheld from another.
Praise offered publicly to one colleague while another is subtly diminished.
None of these things, standing alone, may look catastrophic but communication rarely exists in isolation.There is context. There is history.There is hierarchy.There is tone.There is body language and there is the meaning the recipient is left to carry afterwards.
Chela reminded me of something else: sometimes we comply not because we agree but because we are afraid of disappointing the person who has power over us.
So we keep showing up.
We edit ourselves.
We second-guess.
We become hyper-aware.
We try to get everything right not necessarily because we want to,but because we have learned that getting it wrong might come with a price.
Perhaps that is why this piece resonated with my inner overthinker.
It gave literary language to something many of us experience but struggle to articulate:the psychological weight of constantly trying to read the room,decode the language and anticipate what the person in power might expect from you.
Maybe being an overthinker isn’t always about thinking too much.
Sometimes,we have simply become very good at noticing.
Such a deep analysis. Thanks for reading. 😊
Beautifully written Chelaa, language is not only about finding the words but about using them to connect, empower, and give voice.
Thank you, Wambo!
Reading through this evoked something deep within me. I resonate deeply with this experience, and yes, words carry meaning… sometimes more deeply than we realise. I believe in the Scripture that says, “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.”
Yes, I am an overthinker. I have my own committee in my brain, and whatever someone says must be thoroughly discussed, analysed, interpreted and sometimes reinterpreted! Perhaps that is why words stay with me. I don’t simply hear them; I process them.
Verbal bullying is terrible. It demeans, diminishes and can leave one feeling like a child of a lesser god. A person may laugh it off on the outside, yet inwardly, those words can create wounds that are not easily seen.
Sometimes I ask myself: suppose the same energy used to criticise someone was redirected towards constructive critique rather than criticism? What if, instead of tearing people down with our words, we used them to correct, guide, encourage and build?
Words are powerful. They reveal what lies within us, but they also have the power to shape what lies within others. Perhaps we should all be a little more intentional about what we allow to come out of the abundance of our hearts.
Thoughtful. I couldn’t agree more. We must use words responsibly. Thanks for reading, Betty.
Thought provoking indeed!
Sometimes different factors influence how someone speaks to you. Someone may speak to you from their point of view on the subject matter which might not be your view, from social or cultural influence, from their personal view about you! Yes You! From a point of misinformation! From an envious perspective! All this could be right or wrong! I learned this and resulted to not letting other peoples words affect me because its them not me!
Am I making sense?
Lotsa sense. What we say is a reflection of who we are! I understand that perspective, but I think in situations involving power imbalance, it is called bullying. 😅
Great piece and yes words carry power they can build confidence, strengthen relationships or cause lasting harm.
That’s why being mindful of our words is important.
Thank you, comrade!
Of course my mind couldn’t just let me read through the Chelaa episodes in peace without putting some act into it, how relatable!.
Summatively, my reflection on this led me to a realization of how underestimated is the impact of language as an othering tool. Its efficiency and precision can birth the immortality of inferiority complex and self inadequacy to the victims. I am imagining how easy it is to unintentionally transfer our self inadequacy and inferiority perspectives to our immediate family, friends or the young souls that look up to us in the society. Language as an othering tool can literally chain a generation!
Thank you for reading and engaging. 🩷