Jamaican Patois words, grouped the way an ordinary day groups them
Most Jamaican Patois words came from English, which is why a first-time listener recognises a great many of them and still cannot follow the conversation. The vocabulary worth learning first is not the colourful part: it is the handful of small words — mi(mi)— I, me, yuh(yu)— you, dem(dem)— they, them, di(di)— the — that appear in every sentence anybody says. What follows is close to two hundred words grouped the way an ordinary day groups them, each one with the spelling people actually write, the spelling that tells you how it sounds, and what it means.
Where to start, and in what order
An alphabetical word list is the wrong shape for this language, because it puts the rarest word next to the commonest and gives you no reason to prefer either. Learn in this order instead.
Start with the function words. There are perhaps twenty of them and they carry the whole grammar: the pronouns, the article, the little markers that put a verb in the past or the future. Twenty words gets you the skeleton of every sentence you will hear, and the skeleton is what your ear needs before it can catch anything hung on it. They are grouped near the bottom of this page, and the guide to Patois pronouns takes the pronoun set slowly.
Second, learn the words for people and the words for addressing them. Jamaican speech is unusually rich here, and getting an address term wrong is the mistake most likely to be noticed. Third, take one domain that matches your actual life — food if you are visiting, family if you are calling relatives, money if you are buying anything — and learn it properly rather than skimming five domains at once.
Fourth, and this is the part nobody tells you, spend real attention on the words that look like English and are not. They will cost you more misunderstandings than every unfamiliar word put together, because an unfamiliar word announces itself and a familiar one does not.
Everything below assumes you can read the second column. It is Cassidy/JLU, a phonemic system in which one letter always makes one sound, and it exists so a written word can tell you its own pronunciation without a recording. If it looks alarming, the guide to the Cassidy writing system explains it in one sitting, and why Patois is spelled two ways explains why both columns are here at all.
The words that look like English and are not
This is the single most useful section on this page. Every word below is an English word that Patois has kept and repurposed, so you will hear it, understand it, and be wrong.
| Patois | Written (Cassidy) | English |
|---|---|---|
| Bright | brait | Bold, forward, cheeky |
| Wicked | wikid | Excellent |
| Bad | bad | Impressive, formidable |
| Rude | ruud | Unruly, or risqué — rarely just impolite |
| Fresh | fresh | Too forward with somebody, or smelling off |
| Tan | tan | To stay, or to stand |
| Sweet | swiit | To please or delight somebody |
| Fool fool | fuul fuul | Thoroughly foolish |
| Mash up | mash op | Wrecked, broken, ruined |
A child called bright(brait) is being told off, not praised. A tune described as wicked(wikid) is a compliment, and so is a dancer who is bad(bad). The same reversal — a word for something awful doing duty as strong approval — has happened in more than one variety of English, which is why these two feel half-familiar rather than foreign. Something that sweet(swiit) you has pleased you, and the verb takes the person as its object, so a sentence about being delighted looks to an English eye like a sentence about sugar.
Reduplication is doing real work in the eighth row. Saying a word twice is not baby talk and it is not decoration; it intensifies the meaning or spreads it out, and it is a pattern found across West African languages and across the Atlantic creoles. Once you notice it you will hear it everywhere.
Three more that are safer described than tabulated. ignorant— quick to anger in Patois says nothing about how much somebody knows — it describes a short temper. craven— greedy means greedy rather than cowardly. miserable— mischievous, of a child, said of a child, means lively and troublesome rather than unhappy. We have left the pronunciation spellings off those three deliberately, because the vowels vary from speaker to speaker and printing one would tell you something firmer than the truth.
Words for people, and how you address them
A striking share of Patois social vocabulary is about placing somebody: their age, their standing with you, whether they have earned familiarity. English mostly does that with tone. Patois does it with words, and the words are not interchangeable.
| Patois | Written (Cassidy) | English |
|---|---|---|
| Man | man | A man; also a general address between men |
| Bwoy | bwai | A boy or a young man |
| Gyal | gyal | A girl or a woman |
| Ooman | uman | A woman |
| Yout | yuut | A young man |
| Pickney | pikni | A child |
| Smaddy | smadi | Somebody |
| Frien | fren | A friend |
| Bredrin | bredrin | A close male friend |
| Sistren | sistren | A close female friend |
| Nayba | nieba | A neighbour |
| Missis | misis | A married woman; a polite address |
Two of those repay attention. yout(yuut)— a young man is used to and about young men by people who are not related to them, and it is neutral — a vendor will use it to a stranger. bredrin(bredrin) and sistren(sistren) name your circle rather than your siblings; both came into general use through Rastafarian speech and then spread well beyond it, which is a pattern you will meet again in the section on approval.
The family words
Kinship terms are the highest-value vocabulary on this page for anybody with Jamaican relatives, and the reason is that they do not map cleanly onto the English ones.
| Patois | Written (Cassidy) | English |
|---|---|---|
| Madda | mada | Mother |
| Faada | faada | Father |
| Bredda | breda | Brother, or a close male friend |
| Sista | sista | Sister |
| Granny | grani | Grandmother |
| Auntie | aanti | Aunt, and any close older woman |
| Uncle | ongkl | Uncle |
| Cousin | kozn | Cousin |
| Dawta | daata | Daughter; also a young woman |
| Baby | biebi | Baby |
| Wife | waif | Wife |
| Husban | hozban | Husband |
The kinship word tends to follow the relationship that was actually performed rather than the biological one, so a grandmother who raised a child is very often that child's madda(mada) and is addressed that way for life. You therefore cannot deduce a family tree from the terms you hear, and you should not try. The full account, including who you may call by a first name and who you may not, is in talking about family.
Notice the ending on the first four rows. Where English writes an unstressed -er, Patois says and writes -a. That one pattern will decode dozens of words you have not met yet.
The body, and saying where it hurts
Two of these words cover more ground than their English counterparts, which is a small fact with real consequences in a clinic or on the phone to a relative.
| Patois | Written (Cassidy) | English |
|---|---|---|
| Head | hed | Head |
| Yeye | yai | Eye |
| Nose | nuoz | Nose |
| Mout | mout | Mouth |
| Teet | tiit | Teeth |
| Neck | nek | Neck |
| Han | han | The hand, and the whole arm |
| Foot | fut | The foot, and the whole leg |
| Belly | beli | Stomach |
| Back | bak | Back |
| Skin | skin | Skin |
| Sick | sik | Unwell |
| Feva | fiiva | A fever |
| Bush tea | bush tii | A herbal remedy drunk hot |
foot(fut) is the whole limb, so somebody who has hurt their foot may have hurt their thigh, and han(han) works the same way for the arm. Both are ordinary and neither is vague; the language simply divides the body at different joints than English does.
Two spelling notes fall out of this table. The th of mouth and teeth is a t, and the th of brother is a d — that is a regular sound correspondence, not a random one, and it runs through the whole lexicon. And the vowel in teeth is long where the vowel in sick is short. Length changes meaning in Patois, which is why the pronunciation column doubles a letter rather than trusting you to guess.
Food and drink
Food vocabulary is the easiest group on this page to enjoy learning, because every word has an object attached to it.
| Patois | Written (Cassidy) | English |
|---|---|---|
| Nyam | nyam | To eat |
| Bickle | bikl | Food, provisions |
| Food | fuud | Food |
| Ackee | aki | The national fruit, cooked savoury |
| Callaloo | kalaluu | A leafy green, steamed |
| Bammy | bami | A flatbread made from cassava |
| Dumplin | domplin | A boiled or fried dumpling |
| Saltfish | saalfish | Salted cod |
| Yam | yam | Yam |
| Plantin | plantin | Plantain |
| Pepper | pepa | Pepper, usually the hot kind |
| Bulla | bula | A small dark round cake |
| Patty | pati | A filled pastry |
| Tea | tii | Any hot drink, whatever is in it |
| Wata | wata | Fresh drinking water |
| Sorrel | sorel | A red drink made from hibiscus |
nyam(nyam)— to eat is the word most people meet first, and it is worth saying plainly that it is not a comic or a childish word. It is the ordinary verb, used by adults, and its relatives turn up right across West Africa and the Caribbean, which is about as strong as the evidence for a single word ever gets.
tea(tii) is the quiet trap. In Jamaica it names any hot drink — mint, chocolate, fever grass, whatever is in the pot — so an offer of tea is not an offer of what an English speaker is picturing. bickle(bikl)— food, which comes from victuals, an archaic English word for provisions, is the general term for what there is to eat, and it is the word an older speaker is more likely to reach for.
If you are going to be ordering any of this rather than reading about it, the sentences that carry it are in how to order food in Jamaica.
The house and the things in it
The domestic vocabulary is where the sound system becomes visible, because most of these words are English words with a Patois vowel in them and you can watch the substitution happen.
| Patois | Written (Cassidy) | English |
|---|---|---|
| Yaad | yaad | Home; a yard |
| Room | ruum | Room |
| Door | duor | Door |
| Winda | winda | Window |
| Kitchen | kichin | Kitchen |
| Roof | ruuf | Roof |
| Bed | bed | Bed |
| Chair | chier | Chair |
| Table | tiebl | Table |
| Pot | pat | Pot |
| Bottle | batl | Bottle |
| Cup | kop | Cup |
| Plate | pliet | Plate |
| Broom | bruum | Broom |
| Clothes | kluoz | Clothes |
| Shoes | shuuz | Shoes |
| Bag | bag | Bag |
| Fire | faiya | Fire |
Read the second column of pot and bottle and you have the rule: the English vowel of hot, pot and shop comes out as the same open a across the board. It is the reason on is written pon(pan)— on, upon and pronounced to rhyme with the first syllable of pantry.
yaad(yaad)— home deserves its own line. It means a yard, and it means home, and among Jamaicans abroad it means Jamaica — which is where yardie comes from. A word that carries a place, a house and a country at once is doing more work than a translation column can show.
Money, work and what things cost
Several of these are false friends, and one of them is expensive.
| Patois | Written (Cassidy) | English |
|---|---|---|
| Money | moni | Money |
| Dolla | dala | A dollar |
| Change | chienj | Change; small money |
| Cheap | chiip | Cheap |
| Dear | dier | Expensive |
| Nuff | nof | Plenty, many |
| Buy | bai | To buy |
| Sell | sel | To sell |
| Shap | shap | A shop |
| Market | maakit | Market |
| Higgler | higla | A market trader |
| Wok | wok | Work |
| Job | jab | A job |
| Hussle | hosl | To make a living from whatever work comes |
| Bruk | brok | Broke; also broken |
dear(dier)— expensive is the one that catches people out. British speakers recognise the price sense and file it as old-fashioned; American speakers have mostly never used it that way at all. In Patois it is simply the ordinary word for a high price, and it carries no affection whatever. nuff(nof)— plenty means plenty, and it is a quantity word rather than a judgement, so it modifies people as easily as things.
bruk(brok) covers both being out of money and being physically broken, which is a joke the language makes without meaning to. Anything to do with asking a price, counting or bargaining is set out in money, numbers and bargaining.
Places, transport and getting about
If you are travelling, this is the domain to learn before any other, because you will need it under time pressure with a driver who is already moving.
| Patois | Written (Cassidy) | English |
|---|---|---|
| Road | ruod | Road |
| Bus | bos | Bus |
| Taxi | taksi | Taxi |
| Town | toun | Town |
| Downtown | dountoun | The downtown part of a city |
| Country | konchri | The countryside, away from town |
| Gully | goli | A concrete drainage channel |
| Beach | biich | Beach |
| Corna | kaana | Corner |
| Cross | kraas | Across |
| Ova | uova | Over |
| Lef | lef | Left |
| Right | rait | Right |
| Walk | waak | To walk |
| Come | kom | To come |
| Go | guo | To go |
Look at country. The English cluster tr is regularly said as chr in Patois, so the middle of that word starts the way church does, and the same shift is what makes the number three sound like the word for a plant. Its voiced twin turns dr into jr, which is why drink and dry take a j whenever their sound is spelled out.
Direction is far more often given by pointing plus a locative word — over there, right here — than by a street name, so a great deal of navigation happens with one finger and three syllables. The sentences for arriving, being driven and checking in are in Patois for the airport, the taxi and the hotel.
Weather, land and the shape of the day
Two groups that a phrase list usually skips, and that an ordinary conversation reaches within its first few minutes.
Weather and the natural world
| Patois | Written (Cassidy) | English |
|---|---|---|
| Rain | rien | Rain |
| Sun | son | Sun |
| Hot | hat | Hot |
| Cold | kuol | Cold |
| Breeze | briiz | Breeze; wind of any strength |
| Storm | staam | Storm |
| Sea | sii | Sea |
| Riva | riva | River |
| Bush | bush | Uncultivated land; the interior |
| Grung | grong | The ground |
| Mountain | mountin | Mountain |
| Moon | muun | Moon |
| Star | staar | Star |
| Dutty | doti | Dirty; also dirt itself |
| Wet | wet | Wet |
bush(bush) is not scrubland in the dismissive English sense. It names the uncultivated interior, it is where the plants for a remedy come from, and bush medicine is a serious body of knowledge rather than a folk curiosity. breeze(briiz) covers wind at any strength, so a breeze can knock a sheet of zinc off a roof.
Time
| Patois | Written (Cassidy) | English |
|---|---|---|
| Mawnin | maanin | Morning |
| Aftanoon | aftanuun | Afternoon |
| Evenin | iivnin | Evening |
| Night | nait | Night |
| Day | die | Day |
| Now | nou | Now |
| Soon | suun | Soon, on an unstated timescale |
| Jus now | jos nou | In a moment, loosely defined |
| Week | wiik | Week |
| Mont | mont | Month |
| Year | yier | Year |
| Time | taim | Time |
| Long time | lang taim | A long while |
| Fus | fos | First |
The row for day is the one that unsettles people, because the pronunciation spelling is identical to an English word with a very different meaning. It is a coincidence of two writing systems and nothing more, and it is the clearest single argument for showing both columns rather than only the phonemic one.
soon(suun) and jus now(jos nou) are both softer than they look. Neither commits the speaker to a number of minutes, and reading them as precise is how a visitor ends up standing outside a shop feeling misled by a language that was being perfectly clear.
Feelings and character
Character vocabulary is where Patois is most obviously its own language rather than English with the sounds moved, because several of these words have no single-word English equivalent at all.
| Patois | Written (Cassidy) | English |
|---|---|---|
| Vex | veks | Angry, annoyed |
| Happy | hapi | Happy |
| Sad | sad | Sad |
| Fraid | fried | Afraid |
| Shame | shiem | Embarrassed |
| Boasy | buosi | Showy, pleased with one's appearance |
| Facety | fiesti | Impertinent, out of line |
| Renk | rengk | Offensive; also rank-smelling |
| Mawga | maaga | Thin |
| Tallawah | talawa | Small in size and strong with it |
| Bad mind | bad main | Ill will towards somebody else's success |
| Dread | jred | Serious, weighty, not to be taken lightly |
| Likkle | likl | Small |
tallawah(talawa) is the one to know. It describes something small that is nevertheless strong, and it comes with a proverb attached that most Jamaicans can finish for you. bad mind(bad main) names the specific ill will that is aimed at somebody else's success, and English needs a clause to say it. facety(fiesti) is usually traced to feisty, and it has drifted a long way: it is a charge of rudeness, not a compliment about spirit. irie— good; at ease belongs in this group too, and it is deliberately not in the table. We have printed no pronunciation spelling for it, for the same reason as the three words held back from the table of false friends above: speakers differ over its vowels, and unlike almost everything else on this page its origin is genuinely unsettled.
fraid(fried) is a good demonstration of why the second column matters. Read the pronunciation spelling with English eyes and you get a cooking method. Read it as Cassidy, where ie is one vowel glide and not two letters, and you get a single syllable that rhymes with made.
Approval, disapproval and everything between
Approval and disapproval both have dedicated vocabulary here, and several items in this table are complete replies on their own rather than words you build a sentence out of.
| Patois | Written (Cassidy) | English |
|---|---|---|
| Criss | kris | Sharp, new-looking, excellent |
| Bless | bles | A blessing, given as a greeting or a parting |
| Respec | rispek | Respect |
| Big up | big op | To praise somebody publicly |
| Seen | siin | Understood; agreed |
| Gwaan | gwaan | Go on; carry on |
| Galang | galang | Go along; get going |
| Ease up | iiz op | Lay off; give somebody a break |
| Cho | cho | An exclamation of exasperation |
| Kiss teet | kis tiit | The sucked-teeth sound of disapproval |
| Wutliss | wotlis | Useless, good for nothing |
seen(siin) is the most useful word in this table for a learner. It is a complete reply: it says you have followed what was said and you agree with it, and it costs one syllable. It reached general speech the same way bredrin(bredrin) did, through Rastafarian usage, as did bless(bles) in the second row. respec(rispek) shows the final cluster reduction that runs through the language — the t on the end of the English word is simply not said, and both spellings record what is said rather than what English writes.
The tenth row is not a word at all. The sucked-teeth sound is a genuine item of vocabulary with a full range of meanings, from mild irritation to open contempt, and it is graded by length and force. It is also the fastest way for a visitor to give offence by accident. What big up yuhself actually means takes one of these words apart in detail.
The small words that carry the grammar
If you learn nothing else from this page, learn these. They are the load-bearing vocabulary, they are short, and there are not many of them.
| Patois | Written (Cassidy) | English |
|---|---|---|
| Mi | mi | I, me |
| Yuh | yu | You, one person |
| Im | im | He, she, him, her |
| Unno | unu | You, more than one person |
| Wi | wi | We, us |
| Dem | dem | They, them; also the plural marker |
| Di | di | The |
| Dis | dis | This |
| Dat | dat | That |
| Deh | de | There; also to be somewhere |
| Weh | we | Where; also which or that |
| Wah | wa | What |
| Inna | ina | In, inside |
| Pon | pan | On, upon |
Three things in that table are structurally different from English and worth naming. im(im) does not distinguish gender, so one word covers he, she, him and her and the context does the rest. unno(unu) is a plural you, a slot English lost and has been improvising around ever since with you lot and y'all. And dem(dem) is both a pronoun and the marker of plurality, placed after the noun instead of an ending — the subject of plurals and how -dem works.
| Patois | Written (Cassidy) | English |
|---|---|---|
| A | a | Is; at; and the marker of an action in progress |
| Did | did | Marks an action already completed |
| Wi | wi | Marks the future |
| Fi | fi | To; for; belonging to |
| Nuh | no | Not; do not |
| Neva | neva | Did not |
| Kyan | kyan | Can |
| Cyaahn | kyaahn | Cannot |
| Haffi | afi | Have to |
| Mus | mos | Must |
Those ten words carry tense, mood and negation between them. The third row is not a misprint: the future marker and the pronoun we are the same short word, and position tells them apart. Patois does not change the shape of a verb to move it through time; it puts a small separate word in front of it and leaves the verb alone, which is why the verbs are easier than an English speaker expects and the word order is harder. Patois verb tenses walks through the order they combine in.
The rows for can and cannot are a pair worth handling carefully. The positive and the negative differ by a long vowel and a nasal, and dropping either one gives you the opposite of what you meant, so this is a pair to learn by ear rather than by eye. How negation works covers the rest of the system, and the Patois copula explains why the first row can mean is and at and neither, depending on what follows it.
The words that came from West Africa
Most of the vocabulary on this page came from English. A smaller, identifiable layer came from West and Central African languages — Akan first among them, chiefly in its Twi varieties, with Igbo, Kongo and Yoruba behind — and it is the layer people most want to know about.
| Patois | Written (Cassidy) | English |
|---|---|---|
| Duppy | dopi | A returning spirit |
| Nana | nana | An elder; a title of respect |
| Anansi | anansi | The spider of the story cycle |
| Jook | juk | To poke or jab |
nyam(nyam)— to eat and unno(unu)— you, more than one belong here too, and both have already appeared above, which is the point: the African layer is not a set of exotic entries kept apart from the working vocabulary. It is the working vocabulary. A pronoun and the verb for eating are as ordinary as words get.
Be sceptical of long lists of African etymologies, including ones you find elsewhere on the internet. pickney(pikni)— child looks African and is not — it came through Portuguese, along the same Atlantic routes. Even inside that short table the ground is uneven: the fourth row has been traced to Fula and to Wolof and also argued to be an English regional survival, and which African language gave us the first row is still argued over. And the deepest African inheritance is not lexical at all: it is in the sound system, in the serial verbs, in the way plurality and tense are marked. We set the evidence out, with the caveats, in Patois words from Twi, Yoruba and Igbo.
How a word changes with the room it is in
A vocabulary list has one column for meaning, and meaning does not work that way. The same word moves depending on who is speaking, to whom, and where.
Jamaican speech runs along a range. At one end sits deep creole, furthest from English in both grammar and vocabulary; at the other, something very close to standard English with Jamaican rhythm and a handful of Patois words in it. Every speaker moves along that range constantly, within a conversation and often within a sentence, according to the setting. Moving is a skill, not a slip, and no point on the range is the correct one — that is the subject of the Patois continuum.
For a learner, three practical consequences. First, a word can be entirely ordinary in one setting and pointed in another; the character words in particular carry an edge with a stranger that they do not carry with a friend. Second, the same idea will be said with different vocabulary depending on the setting, so hearing an English-looking word does not mean the speaker has switched languages. Third, your relatives may use a word you were taught differently, or not use it at all, and that is regional and generational variation rather than anybody being mistaken.
Music makes this visible faster than anything else. Reggae carried a set of Patois words into general English usage in the nineteen-seventies, and dancehall has been generating and retiring vocabulary at speed ever since — enough that a word from a hit ten years old can date you. We follow both threads in the Patois in reggae and in dancehall lyrics translated.
Is Patois slang, or is it a language?
A great many people search for these words as Jamaican slang, and it is worth answering the question rather than pretending nobody asks it.
Patois has informal vocabulary, exactly as English does. Some words on this page are casual, some are current among younger speakers and unknown to older ones, and some will be out of fashion within a decade. That is an ordinary property of a living language and it describes a register inside Patois, not Patois itself.
What Patois is, as a whole, is a language: an English-lexifier creole with its own grammar, its own sound system and its own vocabulary. Tense is marked by separate words in a fixed order. Plurality is marked after the noun. Negation, questions and emphasis are each built in a way English does not build them. A system with its own rules that a speaker can be fluent or clumsy in is not a loose collection of informal words, and it is not damaged English — the case is set out in full in is Patois a language or a dialect.
The distinction matters for a practical reason as well as a principled one. If you approach this vocabulary as an informal decoration on English, you will learn the words and keep the English grammar underneath, and you will be understood in the way a tourist is understood. If you approach it as a language, the grammar comes with the vocabulary and the words start behaving.
Where to go from here
Vocabulary alone will get you comprehension and not production. The realistic next step depends on what you came for.
If you want to say things rather than recognise them, the sentences that carry these words are on Jamaican Patois phrases, and the structures that hold them together are on how to speak Jamaican Patois. If what you actually want is to understand what is different about the two languages, rather than to speak either of them, Jamaican Patois and English compared is the more direct route. If you are starting a conversation from nothing, how to say hello is the shortest way in, and if you are teaching a child, Patois for children starts somewhere different again. The proverbs are their own reward, and thirty of them, explained is where the vocabulary on this page turns into something people actually say to each other.
And listen more than you read. Every spelling on this page, in both columns, is a description of a sound somebody makes. The written forms are here so you have something to hold on to between conversations, not so you can learn the language from paper.
Guides in this collection
Music
The Patois that runs through dancehall, and how to hear it
Dancehall lyrics are hard for a reason. The recurring Patois words, the deejay formulae and the sound changes that let you decode a track yourself.
8 min read
Music
The reggae vocabulary that left Jamaica, and what happened to it
Reggae carried Patois words worldwide. What the Rastafari I-words mean, which words drifted in transit, and which ones are worth being careful with.
7 min read
Culture
The African words in Jamaican Patois, and the ones that only look African
Which Jamaican Patois words really come from Akan, Igbo and Kikongo, which are misattributed, and what the African inheritance is beyond vocabulary.
9 min read
Phrases
The Patois words for the people who raised you
Madda, Faada, Bredda, Pickney and the rest — what each Patois family word covers, who you can call it, and how to address an elder without offence.
5 min read
Phrases
Counting, asking a price and haggling in Patois
How Patois numbers sound, the several ways to ask a price, what cheap and dear really mean, and where in Jamaica a price is an opening offer.
5 min read