Happy
New Year everyone! May 2016 be kind to all of us. I know it’s a bit late to be
saying this now after I’ve already posted a few things here. I meant to write
about my visit to Zimbabwe during the festive season earlier, but things just
keep getting in the way. I will get round to it, there is a lot that happened
that I have to talk about.
Relocation to foreign lands has resulted in children who can't speak their parents' home languages |
Our
recent visit home was the first for my 2-year-old who was born in South Africa,
while my 10-year-old was last home in 2011. It was an exciting trip for all of
us as family members were keen to see the “new baby”, who they were surprised
to find was pretty much old enough to run her own show, and theirs!
I
patted myself on the back (just a little bit) when I got home and my children
were conversant with our mother language, Shona. Many people were quite amazed
as it has become the norm for children coming from the diaspora not to speak or
understand their parents’ first language. I am very uncomfortable with that,
and a little embarrassed too when the elderly and those that can’t speak English
cannot communicate and bond with little relatives living in other parts of the
world because of the language barrier. Where a grandmother is supposed to have
fun with her grandchildren, she is found biting her tongue and stumbling over
her words as she tries to construct a meaningful English sentence. She sees a
millipede and wants to excitedly point that to her grandchild who might never
have seen one kuti, “Hona zongororo!”
(Look at that millipede!) and just ends up saying, “Look! Look!” animatedly
because, for the love of God, she doesn’t know the equivalent of zongororo in English.
Precious moments are lost and poor grandparents are restricted to just
overfeeding their grandchildren, presenting dish after dish of food in front of
them with broad smiles on their faces as a way of expressing their love because
they can’t talk to each other.
It’s
not just the children caught up in this quandary. One day I met a woman I grew
up with, and was very excited to see her as it had been long. We hugged and
jumped around some, and two minutes into the conversation I discovered we were
not speaking the same language anymore. I was speaking in Shona and she kept
responding in English. To say I was flabbergasted would be an understatement. She
was with her mother, who just stood beside her with a sheepish smile on her
face, probably feeling embarrassed for her offspring and wondering what had happened
to her flesh and blood’s tongue. I quickly removed myself from my old friend’s presence
and realised what we shared before was completely lost L.
Another
time, I met a former schoolmate who actually grew up in the rural areas (where
people have a richer culture than in cities) but had gone up in the world and
was keen to show that off. I greeted her and was again taken aback when not a
word of Shona could come out of her mouth. It was utterly shocking! We exchanged
numbers and promised to visit each other as we stayed not too far from each
other, but as we parted ways, I knew I would not be calling her L. I felt, for the second time, that we
did not have any common ground anymore. When in a group with people who do not
speak Shona, the polite thing is to speak English, or whatever common language
you have with the other people. But to fail to speak Shona amongst ourselves,
with nobody else present is ridiculous.
I
believe we need to guard our first languages jealously as it is the only thing
setting us apart from people from anywhere else in the world. We can be in a
room full of fellow Africans and might all look the same, but there has to be
that special something that distinguishes us from the rest. Many people find it
shameful to speak their languages among people from other countries. Even back
home, there are children who can’t speak Shona because their parents prefer it
that way. Speaking English is seen as a sign that you’ve progressed, you are
doing well in life, and you are classy. I think our children, by all means,
should be fluent in English because they have to be able to communicate with
people of other nationalities. But they should also be able to speak Shona so
that they are able to communicate with their kith and kin. But different
strokes for different folks, right? Some people I spoke to said they couldn’t care
less that their children could not speak their home languages because they
hardly visited their home countries anyway. On the other hand, others,
especially those in the West, said they worked extremely long hours and didn’t really
have time enough time with their kids to incorporate Shona lessons. That is
quite unfortunate. I am fortunate that I have time to teach my children my language,
our language, which I am very proud of.
I
spoke to a good number of my friends, resident outside Zimbabwe or other
countries they come from, about how their children fared regarding the language
issue. Below are their responses. I know it’s a lot of reading, but do try to
go through all their comments. I found them quite interesting. On that note, I
would like to thank all my long-suffering friends who are always willing to be
bombarded by my surveys. May God bless you and give you strength and tolerance
because I have more surveys up my sleeve for 2016. Love you all <3.
Responses:
Charlene* (Zimbabwean
in Qatar): He loves Shona and thinks it’s so
fascinating so I try to teach him but I rarely have time for it. What I have
done is taught him a couple of songs. He likes to harmonize with me. We are at
work most of the time. What I’m grateful for is his keen interest. I hope it
stays that way because I find some kids in the diaspora don’t even want to know
their languages. They are actually embarrassed. Shona can help them in the
future. I’ve seen it firsthand here in Qatar where they employ people according
to nationality. If you are employed company isina
wekumusha kwako wadzva (where there are no fellow countrymen), you will not
survive. Each nationality tries to dominate and kick you or undermine the other,
and those that speak same language can help each other progress because the
working culture here allows multi languages in office or on site because the
whole workforce is made up of foreign nationals. So the more languages one can
speak, the better. It’s a bit weird here. Vanoto
advertiser kuti “Indian or Nepalese
wanted for a position” (They actually run adverts based on nationality).
Sam (Zimbabwean in
South Africa): They both speak both languages. My
family is Shona and their mother is Sotho from Zimbabwe but they use Ndebele.
You know what socio-linguistics say about language acquisitions at a tender
age; there is a blank slate on the human brain that is responsible for language
acquisition and it’s most effective at a young age.
Seble (Ethiopian in
Swaziland): My kids are 7, 4, and 1. I believe
they understand a few words of Amharic because they don’t have much exposure to
the language. We are very far from home and are exposed to very different
languages and culture. We do speak Amharic at home, though. I believe as they
grow older, my 4 and 1 year-old will have an understanding and should be able
to speak the language. It is up to parents to teach kids because they are very
receptive. They must relate to who they are through speaking their home
language.
Namatayi (Zimbabwean
in the UK): They hear and understand some words.
I lived alone with my son from birth so he did not pick up the Shona language
as there was no other person in the house for me to converse with. Secondly we
live in a country where English is predominantly used. At school it’s all they
use. Third, I’m not really bothered whether they speak or hear/understand Shona
as they are able to communicate with my mum, relatives and grandparents well
even with broken English lol. I speak Shona because I was born in a household
where Shona was spoken. I did not have to be taught the language – I just
listened when others were talking and I understood and spoke too, whereas I had
to be taught English. I have also observed that some kids who are not fluent in
English or whose first language is not English tend to be alienated by their
peers and some become victims of bullying. I was a bit disturbed when a little
girl from Rwanda who goes to Sean’s school was awarded a certificate for “being
able to construct a whole sentence in English independently.”
Chiz (Zimbabwean in
South Africa): Of course, my kids can speak Shona
mainly because it’s strictly Shona at home. They can’t speak deep Shona,
though, because even I can’t speak that as well. They also can’t read it, obviously. And
another thing, whenever I go home, people are surprised that my kids can speak
Shona. I don’t know what all the fuss is about, but I get all the praises for
that.
Wunmi (Nigerian in
South Africa): my kids can understand about 70% of
my home language but they can’t speak it. I do encourage them to, but due to
laziness they don’t. I think lack of consistency on my part is the reason why
my kids don’t speak and understand the language 100%. We speak to them in
English and not in Yoruba. We should have also have, from birth, made the
language of communication in the house Yoruba.
Esnath (Zimbabwean in
South Africa): Yes, she can speak and I think she
understands 100%. Accent is a bit funny but it’s ok. What really helped is that
we got a helper from Zimbabwe and my daughter believed that helper could not
understand English. As a result she made sure to speak Shona whenever she
conversed with her. And it’s like that up to today. I think speaking Shona
helps with identity and it will also be cool 15 years from now when she meets
another Shona speaker from HarvardJ.
Wilbright (Zimbabwean
in South Africa): They can speak Shona, but not
fluently. They don’t understand much of it. They can’t write in Shona and they
also don’t know the meanings of most words. I should say they will be in a
position to communicate with elders but not too deeply. Only one reason to them
not being able to speak is that they didn’t grow up among Shona-speaking people
and their friends at home and at school speak English. They speak a bit because
they hear us speaking at home and at church.
Jasper (Zimbabwean in
South Africa): She can speak very good Shona, but
sometimes it’s broken and she mixes up words. There are a lot of Shonas in the
area we stay, so it makes it easy for her to practice speaking the language. If
she’s playing with a Shona and a Xhosa, she will use the mother language of
each of them when talking to them. Next year she will be going to an Afrikaans
school so she can have an advantage.
Mary (Zimbabwean in
the UK): She can’t. And how I so wish she
could! She understands some words. She can’t speak because she is cared for by Ghanaian
twins for 80% of the time. So she speaks fluent English, limited understanding
of Shona and limited understanding of Twi. I have been told to speak to her in
Shona till she gets it. I take her to Zimbabwe every year for her to learn. But
the people at home all default to English when communicating with her even when
I ask them not to.
Rumbi (Zimbabwean in Mozambique):
They speak and understand a little but if it becomes too deep, it’s difficult
for them to understand. The reason is they were born in Bulawayo; language is
Ndebele though at home we encouraged them to speak Shona, but because of schools,
they are comfortable with English. We moved again to Swaziland and the school
being English medium, they stick to English. And now in Maputo where first
language is Portuguese, they are trying to master it too.
A monument at Save Bridge, Mozambique |
Daniel (Zimbabwean in
South Africa): Now they understand some words and
say a few words. The big problem was the crèche spoke English and Afrikaans and
he obviously spent quite a bit of time there. So when Bradley was younger we
had to speak English for him to understand us and also help him with his
English, but now we speak Shona and he understands but can’t speak all the
words. The little one’s comprehension of Shona is better and faster because we
all speak it, including her brother.
Rejoice (Zimbabwean
in South Africa): My children can speak a little, but
they understand and reply in English. Their father instructed them to speak Shona
indoors and English outdoors.
Sekai (Zimbabwean in
SA): All my kids can speak Shona and they understand
it, I think it’s because we use Shona at home. They are not exposed to any
other language at home except English and Shona. Not speaking our language
harms our culture.
Miriam (Zimbabwean in
Botswana): my kids understand Shona and English
but it seems now it’s easier for them to use English even at home. First two
years I teach Shona and when they start crèche I start English. Because they
will be struggling, I also try and help at home but I notice the second born
had it easier because of the older sister. Shona may somewhat become like a
second language because English becomes more dominant after they start school.
I would love them to be able to communicate with our countrymen, both young and
old when we go back to Zimbabwe.
Chinga (Zimbabwean in
South Africa): My daughter understands Shona very
well but she can’t speak it.
Ottilia (Zimbabwean
in South Africa): They can both speak Shona. I have
taught them so they know my language. However, it’s broken at times, plus deep
words havanzwe (they don’t
understand).
Fortunate (Zimbabwean
in South Africa): Ryan does speak and understand
layman’s Shona though he prefers English and isiZulu. The funny thing is I know
he doesn’t enjoy speaking Shona but hey I do force him.
Leslie (Zimbabwean in
South Africa): They can speak and understand Shona.
This is because we speak Shona at home.
Farikanai (Zimbabwean
in Namibia): My kids understand but they can’t
speak Shona. I talk to them in Shona but they answer back in English. They even
have British accents kkkkk because they learn with whites. I think it’s inborn
for them. Havadi (they don’t like)
Shona kkkk. I think it’s because they are still young. When they are grown
they’ll love Shona I’m sure.
Vongai (Zimbabwean in
South Africa): Mine can speak and understand but
have not been exposed to writing it. Speaking as well is not so perfect because
exposure is only at home where we are mixing with English as we are used to
communicating with people of various languages.
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