Four Verbs You Can’t Live Without in Arabic (And One That Bites)

Welcome back to the GoTxt kitchen, where we don’t just conjugate verbs—we cook with them. Today, we’re tackling the absolute non-negotiables of Arabic: كَانَ (to be), عِنْدَ (to have), فَعَلَ (to do), and قَالَ (to say). If you’re staring at a menu of Arabic grammar and feeling overwhelmed, these four are your appetizers, main course, and dessert. You literally cannot order a sentence without them. And trust me, I’ve seen students try. It’s like trying to clap with one hand—possible, but deeply unsatisfying. The secret? These verbs are the skeleton of everyday speech. Once you get them in your bones, the rest is just flesh (and a little bit of chaos). So, let’s roll up our sleeves and get our hands dirty with the good stuff.

To Be: The Invisible Glue (كَانَ)

Here’s the twist that makes Arabic feel like a magic trick: in the present tense, the verb “to be” is usually invisible. You don’t say “I am tired” with a verb; you just say أَنَا تَعْبَانٌ (I tired). The sentence works because the context carries the weight. It’s like a ghost verb—present in meaning, absent in form. But when you want to talk about the past, the ghost steps into the spotlight: كَانَ (he was). For example, كَانَ الطَّقْسُ جَمِيلًا (the weather was beautiful). This verb is your time machine. Master it, and you can suddenly narrate stories, complain about yesterday’s traffic, or explain why you missed class. It’s the difference between saying “I am hungry” and “I was hungry, but I ate all the bread.” And let’s be honest, the second one is more interesting.

To Have: The Possessive Hand (عِنْدَ)

Forget everything you know about “have.” Arabic doesn’t use a verb for possession; it uses a preposition that means “at” or “with.” So, “I have a book” is literally عِنْدِي كِتَابٌ (at-me a book). It’s a spatial relationship, not an action. This is huge because it changes how you think about ownership. You don’t “have” a car; the car is “at you.” It’s more like a temporary arrangement with the universe. The word عِنْدَ changes its ending based on who’s doing the having: عِنْدَكَ (at-you, masculine), عِنْدَكِ (at-you, feminine), عِنْدَهُ (at-him). It’s a possessive hand that points in every direction. For example, عِنْدِي سُؤَالٌ (I have a question) is your go-to survival phrase in any classroom. And if you want to say you have a headache, it’s عِنْدِي صُدَاعٌ (at-me a headache). See? The headache is just visiting you. It’s not yours forever. That’s the beauty of Arabic logic.

To Do: The Action Engine (فَعَلَ)