Intermarriage, policies pushing Kenya’s native tongues into oblivion
Ms Sarah Idebe and Ms Maimuna Mikidadi. They are among young people who never got to learn their native tongues growing up.
A famous quote attributed to writer Ngugi wa Thiongo underscores the importance of mother tongues: “If you know all the languages in the world and do not know your mother tongue, that’s enslavement, and if you know your mother tongue and add all the languages in the world to it, that’s empowerment.”
But when children cannot speak their mother tongues, who is to blame? Parents, guardians or the children themselves?
Sasha Idebe, 23, says she wanted to learn the native languages of her parents but she didn’t get that opportunity since she grew up in Nairobi. But she doesn’t think she has to learn the languages.
“My mother is a Kisii and my dad is a Luhya. Growing up was difficult because both my parents could only communicate in Kiswahili,” she said.
“The only time I would hear my parents speak in their mother tongues was when they would talk to my aunts upcountry, and they never taught us the languages in school,” she added.
Until the 1990s, it was fairly common for Kenyan children to speak at least three languages fluently — their mother tongue, English and Kiswahili. But now many only speak Kiswahili and English. Some parents even prefer to teach their children English as their first language.
On the streets, it is common to hear someone say: “Nasikia tu lakini sijui kuongea” (I understand the language but I can’t speak it).
Esther Lutukai grew up in Lang’ata, Nairobi, in a family of five. Her parents are both Luhya, “but the only thing I know is saying hello, because my parents never taught us to speak the language.”
“When I was growing up, my dad worked in South Africa, so there were minimal interactions with my mum in Luhya, and it was hard for me and my siblings to grasp the language,” she added.
“I have a son and his father is from Central Kenya, so it is difficult to teach him a mother tongue, because I can’t speak Luhya and his father cannot speak Kikuyu, so his first language is English.”
Keith Salmini, 22, a student who has a Digo father and a Kamba mother, never learned to speak his parents’ native languages and has no interest in learning them, though he said he enjoys listening to people speak their mother tongues.
“My siblings and I grew up in Mombasa, so definitely our first language is Kiswahili,” he said.
He added: “I know and I feel it is important to know our mother tongue because it is our culture, and we need to pass it to the next generation, but I am not doing a good job of it, and my parents did not help at all.”
As a child, Maimuna Mikidadi, 25, did not see the importance of learning the native languages of her parents, until she started seeking job opportunities.
“I didn’t think of it as a big deal until I was older. My mother is from Central Kenya while my father is from Ethiopia. His ethnicity is Oromo,” she said.
Her mother spoke Kikuyu with their neighbours but for her and her brother, their “first language was Kiswahili, [cross-cultural marriage] affects the mother tongue tradition”.
She said she wanted to speak her father’s native language “so bad” but did not learn it, though she understands some Kikuyu “but I cannot speak a word”.
“If I get a husband who will give the time of day to my children and teach them his mother tongue, well and good, but if he doesn’t know his language, I guess we will just go with Kiswahili and English,” Ms Mikidadi said.
Though Kenyan native tongues are slowly sliding into oblivion, Kiswahili and English seem to be marching steadily ahead. Both languages are thought to open up opportunities in the job market for those who speak them fluently. Ironically, post-independence progress has been made by prioritising the two languages, when colonial policies discriminating against mother tongues no longer exist.
A recent report, Extinct and Endangered Languages, by Unesco stated that 16 of Kenya’s 42 languages are at serious risk of disappearing. The UN Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues estimates that of the world’s 6,700 languages, one indigenous language dies every two weeks.
The UN classifies indigenous peoples in Africa as mainly hunter-gatherers and pastoralists. Could this narrow definition be restricting the protection of all African mother tongues as indigenous?
Ironically, language revivalists expend substantial human and financial resources in research on indigenous languages that are dying or have died.
Joyce Nyairo, a cultural analyst and author, argues that current education policies have contributed to the death of native languages. “The reason these languages are dying is that our education policy does not encourage native languages and they are viewed as inferior,” she said. “Now you find that if you are speaking English, you will look like you are more educated, but if we are genuine in fighting ethnicity, start teaching the native languages in school.
She added that there must be a policy to make it mandatory for everyone to at least know two Kenyan languages.
