I Speak English. Liverpool Had Other Plans.

Nobody really prepares you for the fact that relocating to a new country sometimes means learning how to speak all over again.

And I don't necessarily mean learning a completely different language.

Sometimes, you move somewhere that speaks the same language you've spoken your entire life, only to discover that the people have their own vocabulary, expressions, humour, inside jokes, and ways of communicating that nobody thought to include in your English lessons.

You understand the words.

Individually.

But put them together, add a strong local accent, deliver them at an impressive speed, and suddenly you're wondering whether you actually speak English at all.

Welcome to Liverpool.

As a Nigerian who grew up speaking English, I arrived here reasonably confident in my ability to communicate.

After all, English is English, right?

Well.

Liverpool had a few things to teach me.

1. Me mum? Whose mum?

One of the first things that fascinated me was the way Scousers spoke.

I'd hear someone say, “Me mum said…”

And I'd think, Me mum?

What exactly is happening here?

Of course, I eventually understood that they meant “my mum”.

But it wasn't just the words. It was the accent, the rhythm, and the way certain expressions seemed to roll off people's tongues so naturally.

And then there was “la”.

La!

At first, I wondered whether people were starting a sentence they had no intention of finishing.

But no. It's a familiar Scouse way of addressing someone, rather like saying mate.

Then came “ta-ra”.

For a while, I kept hearing it and wondering what on earth people were saying.

Was it a name? An expression? Some mysterious English word I'd somehow missed?

Apparently, people were simply saying goodbye.

Imagine!

All that confusion, and somebody was just trying to leave.

2. Please, can we reduce the speed?

Now, let's talk about the speed.

Because some Scousers can speak!

And when the accent becomes particularly strong, and the words start coming quickly, you may find yourself needing a moment to catch up.

Working in customer service gave me plenty of opportunities to practise.

I'd be listening carefully to someone explaining an issue, and at some point, I'd have to say:

“I'm so sorry, could you please slow down a little?”

Not because I wasn't paying attention.

I was paying attention with my entire being.

But I needed a fighting chance!

And don't get me started on names.

Sometimes, you'd ask someone for their name, and they'd say it with such confidence and speed that there seemed to be an assumption you already knew exactly how to spell it.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting there thinking, My dear, I have never heard this name before in my life.

So, I'd politely ask them to spell it.

And sometimes, I'd still need them to slow down.

It took a while, but my ears gradually adjusted.

Expressions that once sounded completely unfamiliar started making sense.

I began recognising names, anticipating certain phrases and understanding conversations that might previously have left me looking thoroughly confused.

Small victories, but victories, nonetheless.

3. Everybody is calling me love!

This one genuinely amused me.

Because Liverpool has introduced me to an extraordinary number of people who apparently love me.

“Are you all right, love?”

“Thanks, love.”

“See you later, love.”

And the funniest part?

Sometimes, the person calling you love has spent the last several minutes being anything but loving.

I remember dealing with difficult conversations at work, trying to resolve an issue, keeping things professional, and making sure the person felt heard.

The conversation could be quite tense.

And then, just as we're wrapping up:

“Thanks, love. Bye, love.”

Excuse me?

Love?

After everything we've just been through together?

At first, I found it so funny.

But I gradually realised that terms like “love” are simply part of the everyday language of affection and familiarity here.

They don't necessarily mean anything deeply personal.

Someone can call you love without knowing the first thing about you.

And I've come to find that rather endearing.

There's a warmth in those little expressions, even when they're used so casually that the speaker probably doesn't think twice about them.

4. Treble O and the mystery of the phone number

Now, this particular experience deserves its own little award.

I was speaking to someone who needed to give me his phone number.

Simple enough.

Or so I thought.

He began calling out the digits, and then I heard something that sounded like “treble O”.

I paused.

Treble? what?

He repeated himself.

And I was still trying to work out what he meant.

At one point, I thought I was hearing something like “three noughts”, which only added another layer to my confusion.

My brain was doing calculations it had not prepared for.

Eventually, I understood.

Three zeros.

That was it.

The entire mystery.

I was so amused because it was such a tiny difference in how people communicate numbers, yet it had managed to completely throw me off.

Where I was accustomed to hearing the digits expressed differently, here someone could say “treble O” and expect me to understand immediately.

And to be fair, why wouldn't they?

It's perfectly ordinary to them.

I was the one still learning the local rules.

“You can move somewhere that speaks the same language you've spoken your entire life and still discover that you have a whole new language to learn.”

5. The things nobody puts in the relocation handbook

I think that's one of the most interesting things about moving somewhere new.

You can prepare for the obvious things.

You can research accommodation, transport, jobs, schools, the weather, and how much groceries will cost.

But how do you prepare for the things people don't even realise they need to explain?

The expressions that make perfect sense to everyone around you.

The jokes that get an entire room laughing while you're still trying to understand the setup.

The names, the accents, the ways of greeting people and the little social habits that have been passed around for generations.

Nobody hands you a dictionary for all of that.

You learn by living.

By listening.

By asking questions.

By occasionally embarrassing yourself.

And by laughing at the things that once confused you.

I've come to appreciate that relocating isn't simply about moving your belongings from one country to another.

You're also learning a new way of life.

You're learning how people communicate affection, frustration, humour and familiarity.

You're learning the things they take for granted.

And somewhere along the way, your understanding of the world begins to expand.

Because the English I grew up speaking in Nigeria isn't wrong.

And the English spoken in Liverpool isn't wrong either.

They're simply shaped by different histories, cultures, communities and everyday experiences.

And I think there's something beautiful about that.

The more places you encounter, the more you realise how many different ways there are to express the same human experiences.

These days, I understand far more of the Scouse expressions that once left me bewildered.

Although, now and again, someone will say something that reminds me I still have plenty to learn.

And that's all right.

I'm learning.

I'm listening.

And I'm having a good laugh along the way.

Because sometimes, moving to a new city means discovering that even the language you thought you knew has a few surprises waiting for you.

And Liverpool?

Liverpool has plenty.

Ta-ra, love!

With love,

Jesuloba Grace