When ‘kaypoh’ enters Oxford dictionary

WE use some words so often in our daily conversations that we never imagine that they might one day appear in a dictionary – and not just any dictionary, but the Oxford English Dictionary.

A group of very serious lexicographers somewhere in Oxford, England, have just done something that may thrill many Malaysians!

They have officially welcomed a few of our everyday words into the Oxford English Dictionary.

Among them are ‘agak-agak’, ‘kaypoh’, and ‘boleh’.

This means next time you feel like calling someone out for being kaypoh, you can do so with peace of mind that you’ll be using a proper English term.

After all, it is in the Oxford Dictionary. Not bad for a word that probably began its life in a ‘kopitiam’ (coffee shop) conversation.

For those unfamiliar with it, kaypoh is a wonderfully expressive word borrowed from Hokkien.

It describes someone who is overly curious about other people’s affairs – the friendly busybody who always wants to know what is happening next door.

Every neighbourhood has one, and often-times, more than one.

Of course, in journalism we prefer not to call it kaypoh. We simply describe it as ‘professional curiosity’.

Then there is agak-agak.

If you have watched a Malaysian grandmother in the kitchen, you know exactly what ‘agak-agak’ means.

It is the art of estimating ingredients without measuring spoons or weighing scales.

“How much salt?”

“Agak-agak.”

“How long to cook?”

“Agak-agak 10 minutes, but watch the fire.”

My husband used to say my cooking was not exactly scientific because I never measured anything – everything was done agak-agak.

And yet, somehow, the food usually turned out just fine.

Still, he said consistency should be maintained.

Sometimes I suspect the agak-agak method is not confined to Malaysian kitchens – it occasionally finds its way into policymaking in Malaysia as well.

And finally, there is boleh.

A simple Malay word meaning ‘can’, ‘able to’, or sometimes simply ‘okay’.

But Malaysians turned it into something much bigger with the famous slogan ‘Malaysia Boleh!’ – a phrase that once captured the nation’s confidence and ambition.

Now, apparently, Oxford agrees that is also boleh.

Language is a funny thing: its vocabulary ever expanding, and its rules constantly evolving with the times.

In fact, quite a sizeable percentage of the English vocabulary is borrowed.

Words like bungalow, shampoo and pyjamas are of Indian origin; ketchup and typhoon from Chinese dialects.

And from the Malay world, we can thank its contribution of words like amok, which comes from the Malay ‘amuk’ – meaning ‘sudden frenzy’. It entered the English dictionary as early as the 17th century.

Bamboo, sago, and even orangutan also made their way into English through early contact with this region.

In other words, the global language has been borrowing from our part of the world for a very long time.

It is indeed thrilling and delightful about seeing our everyday speech recognised in a modern dictionary.

After all, these are not the polished phrases of diplomats or scholars.

These are the words people use at markets, coffee shops and family dinner tables.

They carry a flavour of place.

Language scholars call this the ‘localisation’ of English.

The English language has grown so global that it now absorbs expressions from everywhere it travels.

In Malaysia and Singapore, the result is what many affectionately call ‘Manglish’ or ‘Singlish’ – English with a distinctive local rhythm, sprinkled with Malay, Chinese dialects and Tamil.

Purists may frown, but linguists know that language has never been pure.

It evolves. It adapts. It borrows.

If English had insisted on remaining ‘pure’, the majority of its vocabulary would disappear overnight.

In fact, the Oxford English Dictionary does not add words lightly.

The editors usually track years of evidence from books, newspapers, magazines and online-writing before deciding that a word has become widely used in English contexts.

It means somewhere along the way, journalists, bloggers, novelists and everyday writers have been using words like kaypoh and agak-agak often enough for Oxford to take notice.

Perhaps that is not surprising. Some ideas are simply too expressive to translate neatly.

Try explaining kaypoh without using the word itself.

‘Busybody’ comes close, but it lacks the playful tone.

Or consider agak-agak. ‘Estimate roughly’ does not quite capture the same kitchen wisdom.

Language, after all, is not just about meaning – it is also about culture.

These small words carry stories of hawker stalls, family kitchens, neighbourhood gossip and the cheerful improvisation that define the Southeast Asian life.

They remind us that English today is not owned by one country – it belongs to everyone who uses it.

And Malaysians certainly use it in our own creative way.

So, the next time someone accuses you of being kaypoh, you may reply politely that it is no longer just neighbourhood gossip.

It is now Oxford-approved vocabulary.