There are compliments, and then there are colonial compliments in fancy wrappers. When U.S. President Donald Trump turned to Liberian President Joseph Boakai during a White House meeting with African leaders and said, “Such good English, it’s beautiful. Where did you learn to speak so beautifully?” A ripple of forced politeness followed. But across Africa, many heard something far less flattering. These were the echoes of empire—part wonder, part ignorance, all misstep.
Special to USAfrica magazine (Houston) and USAfricaonline.com, the first Africa-owned, US-based newspaper published on the Internet.
Agbedo, is professor of Linguistics, University of Nigeria Nsukka, is a contributing analyst to USAfrica
For Trump, apparently, fluent English from Africa is cosmic news – Lincoln-level astonishment. Yet, Liberia is an English-speaking nation, founded in 1822 by freed American slaves.. But to Trump, it is breaking news that sounds good only when pronounced “properly.”
“That’s very interesting,” he added before revealing some other world leaders “couldn’t speak nearly as well.” Microaggression with a megaphone, if you like. He treats grammar as gold – accents as allegiances – a professor of hierarchy in every pronoun.
Let’s call out the social science scholarship for a moment and allow Trump’s ‘compliments’ unpack itself. Language, it’s often said, is not neutral; it carries power. French philosopher Pierre Bourdieu described language as symbolic capital, a ticket to respect, access, and belonging. In colonial contexts, English became the ultimate credential. So, when Trump gasped at what was Hospital English for Boakai, he was resurrecting empire’s syllabus.
But let’s pivot a bit and recall a remarkable journey from village voice to Oxford English Dictionary. While Trump stared in disbelief, someone else somewhere was busy reshaping English for global crowds from an African village.
Meet Prof. Kingsley O. Ugwuanyị – village-born boy from Agbamere Eha- Arụmọna, a suburb of the university town of Nsukka, Enugu State, who rose not to ask where English was learned, but to show where it belongs. He grew up speaking Igbo and English side-by-side. After academic brilliance at University of Nigeria Nsukka (UNN), Northumbria University at New Castle, United Kingdom and thereafter, Dr. Ugwuanyị landed at School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), University of London as a postdoctoral research fellow focused on Nigerian English, world Englishes, language and identity.
In the first week of July 2025- the same week President Trump gawked at Liberian President Boakai at the White House, Prof. Ugwuanyi spoke of his alma mater – UNN (the Lion’s Den) and roared at the seminar organized by the Institute of African Studies, University of Nigeria, Nsukka.
He unpacked his latest work: how dozens of Nigerian English words made their way into the Oxford English Dictionary, complete with his own voice recording pronunciations, turning japa, agbero, yarn dust, Naija, suya, and more into officially recognized English lexemes. In his characteristic pedigree as a prodigy of erudition, Prof Ugwuanyị elicited standing ovation – expressed in local parlance as ‘Eka wushiire’!
Given this background, imagine a Trump-Ugwuanyi encounter. Let’s for the sake of this piece stage the scene at a Trump-hosted vocabulary soirée:
Trump (hands clasped): “Professor Ugwuanyi, oh! such wonderful words. From Liberia to Nigeria, these words are lovely. Where did you learn to make them?”
Prof. Ugwuanyi (smiling politely): “From living Nigerian English, sir, and then I made sure Oxford heard them.”
Trump: “Incredible. I didn’t even know ‘japa’ was a word.”
Prof. Ugwuanyi: “Well, about as much as you know about diplomacy.”
Dear readers, here is the rub. Trump marvels at English speakers in Africa but remains oblivious to African Englishes expanding the very scope of the language beyond his tweets. Mr President Trump quite frankly doesn’t know why Nigerian English matters now. Prof Ugwuanyi’s recently published special issue in World Englishes titled “Introduction to the Special Issue on Nigerian English” lays it out. Nigerian English is not a derivative; it’s a full language ecosystem with its own phonology, idioms, pragmatics, and worldview, what scholars now call endonormative stabilisation.
His articles, co-authored with Dr Sopuruchi Aboh (another Super Lion, award-winning First Class alumnus of UNN, former student and supervisee of this writer) and Robert McKenzie, explore everything from national identity to phraseology, from reduplication (small small, half half) to apology styles in Nigerian English. They argue that Nigeria’s language is not just fast-growing; it is one of the most influential varieties of English in the world, comparable only to India and the U.S. in speaker numbers.
That is why the OED entries he helped author matter. If Trump had only known, the words he found so foreign are now part of the global dictionary, and the definitions often reflect the Nigerian meaning first.
Now, let’s pause a moment to consider Liberia, Nigeria and and the co-authorship of the English Language. Liberia and Nigeria, postcolonial states shaped by American and British English respectively, have ceased to be consumers of the language. They are now co-authors. In Liberia, English carries a distinct melodic intonation. In Nigeria, English is no longer borrowed; it belongs, spliced with Pidgin, Pidgin turned high-class, morphing into words that serve identity and humour alike. Meanwhile, Trump’s surprise at Boakai is a case study in linguistic paternalism. The Liberians, who protested rightly felt insulted. Archie Tamel Harris called it condescending. A South African MP asked why Boakai didn’t just get up and walk away. Diplomacy means walking on eggshells, except when colonial ignorance waltzes in.
And now, herein lies Trump’s psychological punchline, which rode the headmasterish crest of a colonial mindset. What drives the discomfort is that Trump held English as birthright and intelligence badge. The revelation that Africans not only learned English but transformed it, and now define it, blows that fantasy to smithereens. The real leader here is not Mr President puzzled by English proficiency; rather, it is Prof Ugwuanyi crafting the next dictionary update and giving Oxford his uniquely Naija voice.
That is why his UNN’s seminal engagement matters. He did not return to the Lion’s Den to impress; he came to walk his audience through the ingeniously cerebral sociolinguistic engineering process – how Nigerian speakers own English, how lexical innovation is cultural self-assertion, and how a language once used to dominate now serves to elevate. Indeed, Prof Ugwuanyi’s discourse at the Institute of African Studies, UNN, was not just an academic talk; it was a declaration. The English Language is evolving, and Africa is its frontier. No more, no less.
I conclude with Chinua Achebe’s curated Igbo proverbial lore: “Until the lions have their own historians, the story of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.” Thanks to Prof Ugwuanyi and scholars of Nigerian English, the lions now have lexicographers, and English is a lot richer for it. Perhaps next time Trump wants to compliment someone’s English, he should start with the OED page for “Naija,” followed by a listening click on the pronunciation button. He might hear the sociolinguistic wizkid behind the words, and perhaps – just perhaps – finally understand. Kpo!
