Some people who help to fill pages such as this one in the newspapers of the State like to bemoan the mandatory presence of the Irish language in official documents, legislative Acts and various government missives.
This irrelevant and decaying language has no place in a vibrant, European society and millions of euro are being wasted on its upkeep, they argue. And in any event, a second language adds nothing but confusion from Donegal to Dingle, they say. Or should that be An Daingean?
Such folk should be grateful they do not live in South Africa. Ever since the brave new republic emerged from the darkness of apartheid, the authorities have been at pains to make sure that everyone is enfranchised and included in designing the future of the "Rainbow Nation". So, while in Ireland we have the inconvenience (or delight) of two official languages, in South Africa they have 11. The main ones are English, Afrikaans, Zulu and Xhosa, with its series of clicking utterances that I wouldn't even know how to write down phonetically. But under the 1993 constitution, Ndebele, Pedi, Sotho, Swazi, Tsonga, Tswana and Venda hold official status and a further 11 - Arabic, German, Greek, Gujarati, Hebrew, Hindi, Portuguese, Sanskrit, Tamil, Telugu, and Urdu - are to be promoted and developed.
As if that wasn't enough, a recent trip to Johannesburg revealed to me another language that is increasingly being spoken by young people on the streets of South Africa's cities and throughout their sprawling townships.
"Hey bojwa, wanna come to Jozi i'ma g-string? I have Jesus and his Brothers. Bring ya regte, dakhi, or even ya cherry!" This is Scamto (or, with apologies to real Scamto speakers, an approximation of it), the street-slang language that draws on all 11 official languages to create a hotch-potch of confusion that would make even the most eminent etymologist's eyes water. It began in Sophiatown during the 1950s when several different tribes were forced to live together under the apartheid regime. But it has really taken off since the first free elections in 1994 and the resultant cultural and marketing revolution that has taken place in that time, not least the emergence of kwaito, the townships' brand of hip-hop.
Like many unofficial but widely used languages associated with big urban centres, such as the hip-hop slang of south-central Los Angeles or even Cockney rhyming slang, Scamto is not the most politically correct addition to the linguistic family. A dakhi is a black person, dairy refers to women's breasts, jewish means clothes or fabrics, g-string means a BMW 3-Series (apparently the front grill of the car reminded someone of a g-string being worn) and abanga itlhokomele is the phrase used for Aids (it literally translates as "die slowly").
The sentence used above can be loosely translated as: "Hello trendy person, would you care to ride with me as far as Johannesburg in my BMW 3 Series [ which is the vehicle of choice for wealthier young blacks in South Africa]? I have a bottle of J&B whiskey. Bring your steady girlfriend, my black friend, or even that girl you're seeing casually at the moment!" I think it sounds better in Scamto.
Although Scamto has been a feature of metropolitan life in South Africa for half a century, it has never before been formalised - until now. This week a new dictionary was published to give some structure to a language that, in many ways, thrives on its haphazard nature. Its chaotic sounds reflect life in the townships that for many years have been a curious and often violent mix of cultures, gangs and languages. The man behind the dictionary is Lebo Motshegoa, a 24-year-old advertising executive who seems to epitomise the new, cooler and more affluent black generation in cities such as Jo'burg.
"I have always been fascinated by black popular culture - the way of life, the people's life skills, creativity, cleverness and mix of languages," he says. "It was when I entered the advertising industry that I realised there was poor communication when it came to adverts targeted at black consumers. Scamto has opened the door for mainstream South Africa into an urban black culture.
"It's still mostly black people speaking Scamto," he says, claiming that he speaks it all the time. "However, we've seen white and Indian South Africans eagerly trying to learn the language. I think this is due to marketers and advertisers using the language to promote their products."
But surely with 11 official tongues already, the last thing South Africa needs now is another language? "Not really. Everyone actually can't understand all 11 official languages, hence we can't speak in other languages besides English. So it's difficult to communicate with someone who speaks Sesotho when you speak Zulu or Xhosa or Sepedi or Afrikaans. Scamto is a language born from these 11 languages. It fuses all South African languages."
South Africa is going through a period of reconstruction and reconciliation as it tries to recover psychologically and socially from various violent and oppressive systems of government down through the years, most recently that which enforced apartheid. Cultural phenomena such as Scamto might just help to bridge some of the gaps that remain.
A short glossary of Scamto terms: Mazaza - sunglasses; cherry - a girlfriend; jampas - night-time; skeem - a group of boys; vora-virus - VW Golf VR6; CD - condom; g-string - BMW 3 Series; regte - a steady partner; Jozi - Johannesburg; lova - unemployed person; bojwa - a trendy person; Jesus and his brothers - J&B whiskey; After tears - a wake; danyane - prison.
Township Talk: The A-Z Dictionary of South Africa's Township Lingo, by Lebo Motshegoa, is published by Double Storey.