By CHARLES SIMENGWA –
DOES speaking English only, both at home and at school, distinguish a child as intelligent, or knowledgeable?
Should children be punished for using local languages, which some modernistic parents frown upon as not being so smart?
In the past few years, these have been shaping up to be difficult questions for some Zambians.
They have come under a steady drip of differing opinions, and most likely presage the disappearance of vernacular in some homes.
There is quite a huge gap between parents who argue that children are quick on the uptake if they are taught local languages in their formative years, and those who make speaking English a rule for their toddlers.
These are parents who have wrapped themselves around the notion that a child who fails to master English – Zambia’s official language – from an early stage is not resourceful, or is simply dull.
More recently, an early-morning phone-in programme on Radio Phoenix presented by Luciano Hambote and Chanda Kangwa brought to the fore the divergent views on this subject which makes some people nervy and on edge.
There were parallels drawn between some children who have been groomed to speak ‘good’ English and yet they are average performers at school, and those who are grounded in local languages, but are top achievers.
The points raised by some callers were reminiscent of the clashes that followed the announcement, in 2013, by the Ministry of Education that initial literacy from pre-school to Grade Four in Zambia would be taught in local languages.
The ministry said some of the reasons for reviewing the school curriculum included re-defining the language policy in order to enhance the teaching and learning process. English, it was stated, would be introduced as a subject in Grade Two.
The ministry developed a National Literacy Strategy meant to enhance the teaching of initial literacy in Zambian languages by teachers in primary schools.
In the light of that, instructional material for teaching initial literacy in all the seven official Zambian languages was developed.
Additionally, the ministry revised the existing syllabi from Grade One to Grade 12, and developed fresh ones in information technology, computer studies, sign language, braille and pre-school education.
But in all this, it was as if some parents’ egos had been crushed since they could not imagine themselves stuck with ‘unimaginative’ children rolling themselves in some language of their forefathers.
The epic showdown with the Government was followed by accusations that the decision was made without consultation.
There were, of course, genuine concerns, particularly from teachers who had not been prepared for such a major shift, in addition to lacking books and other teaching aids.
Some observers also said schools that fall outside the perimeters within which the seven official languages – Icibemba, Nyanja, Tonga, Luvale, Lunda, Kaonde, and Lozi – are used would experience numerous hardships.
For one, the process of distributing teachers does not take into account knowledge of the dialects in any given place.
There were also arguments that confining teachers only to areas where they would be able to identify with the native tongue would stimulate tribalism.
However, the underlying factor in the exchanges that erupted seemed to be that some parents did not want their children to be ‘soiled’ by over-exposure to their mother tongues.
This may be indicative of the growing middle class in Zambia, and may represent a stark departure from the early African civilisations.
But it may also be a case of the merging of cultures, which has distorted the identity of many children.
As globalisation takes root, there are debates around the possible dangers of limiting the language sphere of the ‘new age’, more so that many are now cross-breeds.
In this instance, if a man and wife are not from different provinces of Zambia, then they do not originate from the same country, although those in the latter category are still in smaller proportions.
There are also children whose parents have spent years in the diaspora, and learning the local languages is problematic for them.
All these are special cases which should be considered by people offering divergent views on whether or not it is fair to discourage children from learning the local dialects.
Even so, from the discourse on Radio Phoenix, it was evident that the real test is on children who have a fair chance of knowing the local language, especially by association with their neighbours, and yet their parents put a lid on that.
It is important to know that this awkward situation is not unique to Zambia, as other countries in Africa are undergoing similar crises.
Some observers say the culture supremacy struggle is psychologically imminent for most people on the continent.
To some, the word vernacular depicts something awful which should be dropped at all costs, no matter how hard it is.
This notion has been assisted by the English-only policies which some countries have adopted, and have made the use of vernacular in school punishable.
The muddle goes beyond schools. Once an African makes a comment in the media with improper pronunciation, it becomes a big deal, this because the Western supremacy is running high.
In September, 2014, Bwesigye bwa Mwesigire shared his thoughts on experiences of school-going children in Uganda in an article carrying the title, ‘Why are schools punishing children for speaking African languages?’
According to Mwesigire, there are different modes of punishment in various schools in Uganda, where children as young as five are punished for speaking indigenous languages.
“The most common one is wearing a dirty sack until you meet someone else speaking their mother tongue and then you pass the sack on to them.
“In some schools, there are specific pupils and students tasked with compiling lists of fellow pupils and students speaking mother tongues. This list is then handed over to a teacher responsible for punishing these language rule-breakers,” he wrote.
He continued: “According to Gilbert Kaburu, some schools have aprons that read: ‘Shame on me, I was speaking vernacular’ handed over to an offender of the No Vernacular rule, who then is tasked with finding the next culprit to give the apron.”
Most of the punishments, in their symbolism, emphasise the uselessness of the African languages.
It is another way to reinforce the cynicism that “we teach patriotism, yet we punish our children for speaking their mother tongues.”
It has been argued by some that vernacular affects the learning and speaking of English, thus children need to ‘unlearn’ their mother tongues so they can learn and speak English better.
Speaking English with indigenous language-inflected accents to those who make this argument is not a good job of speaking the language.
There is effort put into enforcing a British accent. The assumption is that the less local language one speaks, the better their English speaking and writing abilities, and vice versa.
But Zimbabwean writer, Tendai Huchu says: “That sums up our self-loathing and inferiority complex.”
Barbra Natifu, agreeing with Huchu, reasons that the practice is a consequence of colonised minds.
She suggests that the language debate should be re-tabled and the de-humanising treatment of children stopped.
Natifu labels the punishment of children for identifying with their own cultural and linguistic identities ‘a crime against humanity’.
In her opinion, this should end and the education curriculum reformed to incorporate indigenous languages.
Henry Odhiambo II, who studied at a school in rural Kenya where children would be caned for using their native languages, has sour memories.
He writes: “It instilled so much fear that when we met outside school, we weren’t sure what language to speak to each other thinking we may be reported and get a beating.”
It was a clear manifestation of children who lose confidence so young for being punished for speaking vernacular.
From where Mwesigire stands, the loud symbolism and absurdity of the punishments for speaking local languages and the colonial roots of the practice aside, there is no convincing argument for the contemporary ostracisation of African languages in African schools, 50 years and thereabout after independence.
Going by the many contradictory views in the affected countries in Africa, one could easily conclude that the debate on whether or not English should occupy a higher rung on the ladder of languages will run for many years to come.
Still, it is important to give children enough space for their mental and physical growth by allowing them to associate with friends, and learning the predominant local languages in their localities – and schools.