Tag: singlish

An article has been making its rounds on the Internet, and this time, it has to do with the use of the words ‘bro’, ‘dude’, and ‘mate’. And no, it’s not being shared for commendable reasons. Straightforwardly titled ‘Guys, please stop saying ‘bro’, ‘dude’, and ‘mate’’, writer John Lui condemned the use of these terms that are commonplace in our everyday conversations. In what reads like an open letter to Singaporeans, he called out users of these terms for doing so to “act superior [without wanting to] to sound like a prat, even when he is being a gigantic prat”, also implying that people tend to use terms like ‘bro’ when asking for a favour. We’re not sure if the article drew inspiration from Mr Tan Kin Lian’s famous Facebook comment from a while back: “I find the word dude to be rather rude.”
Image Credit: MustShareNews
A statement that was made innocently enough, it attracted a mob of troll commenters poking fun at him. The post has since been taken down, but as we all know, once you do something remotely embarrassing online, the trail never disappears. You would think one would know better than to make such a remark from this example. It therefore comes as no surprise that this particular #justsaying opinion piece drew the ire of Singapore’s netizens. We broke down the article in all its thoughtful observations, and here’s what we have to say:

This Is Our Social Fabric, Mate

1. To “Bro” Is To Ask For A Favour

"Bro" is often followed by "can I get a discount?" after a deal is set. It is invoking the bro code at the last minute, which is strictly brohibited unless there has been a brolific and brogressive display of broactive behaviour. Get with the brogramme, guys.
The writer suggests the word ‘bro’ is often used in the context of asking a favour. The truth is the word appears in far more varied contexts. We use ‘bro’ to start a conversation amicably with people. “Bro, long time no see!” creates a sense of friendship that's not strictly restricted to people blood-related to you. When you forget someone’s name, ‘bro’ is your savior. You don’t want to come across as indifferent. Be polite. When you are feeling paiseh or are talking about something that might be slightly embarrassing, ‘bro’ helps to tone it down. “Bro, your fly is open.” When you are giving advice or are trying to calm a friend down, ‘bro’ helps keep the conversation cordial and relaxed. “Eh bro, don’t angry lah!” versus “Oi, don’t angry lah!” While the first may be annoying, the second will surely fuel your rage.

2. Punctuating your sentences with "Bro"

Another thing about "bro" - it is the favourite of drive-time deejays. It is used in the sorts of ways - as punctuation, as a punchline, as a time-filler - that make me want to punch the car radio.
One thing the writer does get right is that ‘bro’ is often used as a sort of punctuation. While ‘dude’ and ‘mate’ aren’t as common (who says ‘mate’ in Singapore, anyway?), ‘bro’ is so widely used in Singapore, it is a part of our social fabric. Just like we use Singlish terms such as ‘lah’ and ‘lor’ to express things no other words can, ‘bro’ has come to be a way we ‘prefix’ our conversations. What other word carries the same meaning and essence as 'bro'? None that I can think of.

3. To “Bro” is to give a false sense of closeness

For women, I've been told their equivalent of "mate" or "bro" is "babe". Like "bro", "babe" is meant to flatter, implying that the speaker has granted the other the wonderful gift of closeness, thus giving the user of the word the right to be a total donkey.
What’s wrong with using ‘mate’, ‘bro’, or ‘babe’ to “grant the other party the wonderful gift of closeness”? Is it such a terrible thing to build rapport in conversations? Should we instead be keeping our conversational partners at arm's length? Last I checked, no one benefits from that. No one enjoys that interaction, no new relationships can bud from there... And really, that would be an awkward interaction.

To Bro Or Not To Bro 

So what do you think? Passionately believe the word 'bro' should be abolished? Don't really care? To bro or not to bro? You decide. Also read The Breakup Reasons These 10 S’poreans Gave Their Ex-es Will Make You Say ‘WTF’
I am Singaporean. I was born in Singapore to parents who are of Chinese descent. I also used to have a strong American accent. Now, let’s get all the usual questions out of the way. Was I faking it? No. Do I have an “ang moh” girlfriend or boyfriend? No. Am I “mixed”? Not that I know of. Did I study in America? Yes, for a semester. How did I pick up the accent so fast? Why and how did I lose it? Funny you should ask.

Adding To A Blank Slate

As many Singaporeans with accents should know, picking up a new accent as a Singaporean is actually incredibly easy. Why? Because the ‘Singapore accent’ is pretty much a blank slate. Everyone says that their own country’s accent is no accent at all, because that’s the one they’re most familiar with. In the case of Singapore, however, that might be especially true. The Singapore accent is defined almost entirely by a lack of what typically constitutes an accent. Intonation, emphasis – all of these are almost completely missing in the Singapore accent, which employs constant and unchanging monotone, loudness, and tempo. So lacking in tonal character is our accent, in fact, that we have to invent and add non-English words a.k.a. Singlish to our speech in order to convey any sense of emotion or nuance. With its minimalistic nature, the Singapore accent thus becomes surprisingly easy to overwrite when exposed sufficiently to another accent. You just have to talk to people.

Facing Judgement

There will always be a large portion of dyed-in-the-wool Singaporeans who believe that any Singaporean who speaks in a foreign accent is either “faking it” or just “not a true Singaporean”. Chances are, these people have either never lived overseas in other English-speaking countries, or lived overseas but refused to socialize actively with the locals. After returning to Singapore with an American accent that I couldn’t hide, I faced no small amount of judgement from this group of people. They just couldn’t fathom how a Singaporean could genuinely speak with an accent. They gave me funny looks, and snarky questions and comments like, “Why are you talking like that?”, “You’re faking right?”, “It feels so weird talking to you now,” or, “Your accent sounds confused.” Because apparently, the manner in which words came out of my mouth had to match up perfectly with my skin colour and nationality. Eventually, the stress and discomfort of being judged whenever I spoke and sounding different from everyone got to me, and I slowly lost my American accent. It took about a year before my accent was virtually undetectable, a much longer time than what it took for me to gain it, and sometimes I wonder if I should have stood up to the judgement and done more to maintain that part of me. Or perhaps it was just a matter of exposure, and there was nothing I could do. When a white person speaks with an accent in Singapore, no one bats an eye. But when an Asian speaks with an accent, tongues start wagging and eyebrows furrow with confusion. “Is he Singaporean?” “Is he ABC?” “Is he faking? I can’t tell.” How about you mind your own business, you racist little tw*t? Maybe, it's the strong sense of nationalism that our government has hammered into us from childhood, or maybe it's the irrationally strong connection we subscribe to between race and language, perpetrated by the 'mother tongue' syllabus. In any case, a modern, metropolitan Singapore would certainly be better off understanding that different people talk differently, and that's okay. Top Image Credit