Introduction
The 1962 African Writers of English Expression Conference at Makerere University College, Uganda, was a landmark event that presented African authors’ attitudes toward and contestations of the role of colonial and Indigenous languages in African literature. Some 60 years later, these conversations have finally spilt over into higher education and its pedagogic spaces. Indeed, the complexities and contestations that characterised the Makerere debate have become what Lamola (2022, p. 50) calls the “agony in African linguistics”. The Makerere debate, personified by two African writers and philosophers, Chinua Achebe and Ngugi wa Thiong’o, still informs critical language decisions and acts of activism in South African academia, more so at the University of the Free State, in South Africa. Achebe did not mourn the use of colonial languages in African literature and, by extension, in the academy. Instead, he argued for the creative domestication, re-invention and disciplining of colonial languages to fight against the colonial Empire and express Africans’ humanity. This argument for “using the master’s tools to dismantle the master’s house” (Lorde, 1984, p. 112) is similarly held by other decolonial philosophers such as de Sousa Santos (2014) and Fanon (1967 [1959]). On the other side of the Makerere debate, however, thinkers such as wa Thiong’o conversely advocated for a total rejection of foreign languages in favour of using Indigenous languages only in African literature and academia.
This debate lingers on, and language remains a contested and complex issue in conversations about decolonisation, specifically regarding knowledge and knowledge production in higher education. In the Global South, in particular, some decolonial academics and intellectuals are clear that current decolonial efforts to democratise epistemic access in institutions of higher learning must include the removal of linguistic obstacles so that knowledge/s can be made more accessible to all students, irrespective of their linguistic background. This argument applies specifically to the monovocality of English and the monolingual habitus at several higher education institutions, and it requires universities to intentionally focus on multilingual teaching and learning.
The promotion of multilingual approaches in education also shows a commitment by institutions to acknowledge and validate various linguistic experiences and the bodies that carry those languages. Although some theorists might argue that the use of Indigenous languages lowers excellence and academic standards (Makamu, 2009; Annamalai, 2006), the language policy framework of the Department of Higher Education and Training (DHET, 2020), in the South African context, recommends that institutions of higher learning develop and use African Indigenous languages as academic and scientific languages. The DHET’s policy was born from an understanding that a liberated university “put[s] African languages at the centre of its teaching and learning project” (Mbembe, 2016, p. 36).
Such are the linguistic debates that led wa Thiong’o to clarify his language stance after the Makerere conference some 50 years later in Globalectics: Theory and Politics of Knowing (2012) and again in Language of Languages (2023). In these texts, he argues that colonial and Indigenous languages can be both enabling—for education and communication more broadly—as well as disabling—when English retains its hegemonic and crippling practices in literature, society and the academy, and when the sole use of Indigenous languages might limit communication.
While many philosophers, intellectuals, and academics have clear standpoints on the language issue in higher education, this article’s primary aim is to foreground the student voice in these ongoing debates, since they are critical stakeholders in the academy. This study thus explores the students’ current views on the contested issue of language in the academy. Some notable work on the student voice in this regard has been brought forward in the South African context by Dube (2017). Dube observes that the 2015/2016 student protests, about the languages used for teaching and learning in higher education, demanded that English replace Afrikaans as a medium of instruction to allow for more access to education. These protests took the form of Open Stellenbosch (at the University of Stellenbosch) and the Economic Freedom Fighters Student Command (EFFSC) at the Universities of the Free State and Pretoria.
Dube (2017) notes the contradictions and ironies contained within these protests. The students’ linguistic activism essentially called for monovocal teaching and learning at the expense of multilingualism. Dube (2017, p. 12) thus questions, “Why protesting black students, knowing well that English is also a language of colonisation, still choose it as a language of tuition over and above their Indigenous languages”. The students never called for the use of Indigenous languages as part of decolonised teaching and learning. Instead, their call was for the banishment of Afrikaans as a medium of instruction and the use of English in the academy, an issue that Ndhlovu and Makalela (2021) argue is a further entrenchment of colonial practices. During these protests, ironically perceived as decolonial in nature, the students never called for the unsilencing of their Indigenous languages in the pedagogic space nor for the much-vaunted intellectualisation and capacitation of these languages.
While Dube (2017) focused on the analysis of the protests, the aim of this article, using student focus groups, is to create a students’ Makerere moment by bringing the student voice into the ongoing debates surrounding the role of Indigenous and colonial languages in higher education. Students’ perspectives are crucial for shaping language attitudes, policies, implementation strategies and teaching approaches in South Africa since they are the primary stakeholders in higher education. Building on the students’ voices, this paper also aims to provide commentary on how higher education institutions can, in wa Thiong’o’s words, create space for the enabling effects of English and Indigenous languages within higher education, and close the door on the disabling effects of English in the academy.
Methodology
We followed an exploratory, qualitative research approach and used focus groups to gain insights into the University of the Free State’s students’ perceptions of using English and Indigenous languages in higher education. Undergraduate and postgraduate students were invited to share their thoughts on key aspects such as 1) whether they want to be taught in their Indigenous languages or whether they perceive value in such an approach; 2) whether they felt that their Indigenous languages have any role to play in the teaching and learning process; and 3) how they interpret and define linguistic decolonisation. We obtained ethical clearance from the University of Free State’s ethics committee to collect the data (UFS-HSD2022/0101/22/23), and all participants have been anonymised. Four focus groups were held with a mix of male and female undergraduate and postgraduate students. In total, nine students took part in the study. The focus groups were transcribed and then thematically coded. The themes that emerged inform the basis of this discussion.
The article is structured into three larger sections: The first concerns the student participants’ thoughts on how English enables them. The second section discusses the participants’ thoughts about how Indigenous languages are enabling. The third section provides commentary on how higher education institutions can benefit from the wealth of English and Indigenous languages, while avoiding the disabling impact of English without resorting to nativist and essentialist practices.
Theoretical Framework
The theoretical framework chosen for this study is Bourdieu’s (1991) habitus theory—more specifically, linguistic habitus—which we hope will provide insights into students’ perceptions of the desirability and role of English and Indigenous languages in the classroom.
The concept of habitus is Bourdieu’s way of explaining the regularities of behaviour associated with social structures, such as class, gender, and ethnicity. He does not see social structures as being deterministic of behaviour and highlights that individuals still have their own agency.
Habitus describes the embodiment of social structures and history in individuals; it is a set of internal dispositions reflecting external social structures and shaping how the individual perceives and acts in the world (Barber, 1993). Although the social structures embodied in habitus do not determine behaviour or practice, individuals are predisposed to act under the social structures that have shaped them because, in effect, they carry those social structures with them (Bourdieu, 1991; Barber, 1993).
Linguistic habitus (Bourdieu, 1993) refers to the deeply ingrained linguistic dispositions and practices individuals acquire through socialisation and experience within a particular linguistic and cultural context. To speak of a particular linguistic habitus is to point to dispositions, especially to language and, as such, the concept of linguistic habitus covers a range of acquired sensibilities concerning acceptability, appropriateness, correctness and so forth.
In the context of this study, Bourdieu’s theory has assisted us in analysing how students’ linguistic habitus, shaped by their upbringing, education, and exposure to different languages, influences their perspectives on the (un)desirability of Indigenous languages in teaching and learning. Students’ linguistic habitus can affect their attitudes towards Indigenous languages, their perceived value of these languages in academic settings, and their willingness to be taught in their home languages.
Results and Discussion
The data from the focus groups clearly indicate the students’ opinion that English enables several things: employment (commerce), comfortability, comprehension, confidence, interaction, global opportunity, inclusivity, commonality and even entertainment. The students acknowledged the desirable role that English plays in the academy even though they also feel that it is, at times, imposed upon them. For example, one student observed that students do not often learn in their Indigenous languages in high school. Thus, English enables learning during and after their higher educational journeys, sometimes at the cost of a student’s knowledge of their Indigenous language:
Um, for me, when it comes to studying in English, right, I’m easy about it, because at primary school, at high school, my first language, the home language [subject] was English. And then I did not get to do my home language as a second language, I did Afrikaans, so when it comes to the home language part of it, I am not very good.
This is a notable comment since South Africa’s Language-in-Education Policy (LiEP) (Department of Education, 1997) sought to promote all official languages and give individuals the right to choose their language of learning and teaching through additive bilingualism. Despite this policy, however, English and Afrikaans seem to remain privileged in primary and high school and are often favoured over Indigenous languages (showing a trend of subtractive bilingualism rather than additive bilingualism) (Saneka & De Witt, 2019). Some reasons for the elite position of English are due to the social and economic benefits of English as perceived by students, parents, teachers, and policymakers. For the students, it is no wonder then that learning in English in higher education is preferred, as it is what they know and seem to be comfortable with—whether it is imposed on them or not.
Academic Comprehension
Contrary to the generally accepted arguments that students learn and comprehend better when teaching and learning occur in their Indigenous languages (Mphasha, Nkuna & Sebata, 2022), some of the student participants felt that they comprehend academic content better in English. They may thus advocate for the use of English in the pedagogic space as they might think that their home languages limit their comprehension, as indicated in the student comment below:
… The only time I use English is when I’m given knowledge from like education, because that’s realistically the only time that most people would use English, is when they’re being taught something. So, I’d say it is a source of belonging if we are communicating, and it’s also not a source of belonging because you don’t, like overall, it’s not what you … communicate with. It’s Sesotho in your head … The only time you’re exposed to English is when you’re being taught through it.
It should be noted that the students’ observations about where and how they use English are context-based and linked primarily to their educational contexts. English is seen as a relevant academic enabler; hence, it is relevant in the academic space, but the participants’ language preferences seem to change when they leave the academic space. The following two comments are relevant here.
I would say that English forms part of my academic identity. Not the kind of person that I am. It follows in that respect. There is this Jane 1 and then there’s this that other [Jane], whom, when they are at a certain place, has to speak a certain way.
With English, it’s like a tool that I’m using within the academia [sic] or when I’m around people who have studied to that level. But when I’m home, and when I’m even within my community, I don’t use English in any way. So yeah, just wanted to add that besides that, it becomes like a part-time thing that, okay, now I’m in the university and speaking English because I’m amongst diverse people from different languages and so on, then I use it. But besides that, when I’m home and with other people, I don’t use it at all.
Most of the participants agreed that English enables them to learn in an academic context, highlighting that the use of a particular language is tied to a particular context. English is, therefore, linked to academic purposes. This echoes Bourdieu’s arguments about linguistic habitus; people value a particular language in a specific context based on their experiences, socialisation and the value placed on the language by a particular community in that particular context. Here, English seems to have much value in higher education (Dube, 2017). As the theory of habitus posits, the students’ needs and interests determine their linguistic preferences, since English remains the perceived de facto language of knowledge and science. However, considering that only 12% of South Africans use English in their home interactions, the negative impact of the hegemony of English on student access, especially for black students, cannot be denied (Ndlangamandla, 2024; Ngcobo & Barnes, 2020; van Broakhuizen et al., 2016). Therefore, one could argue that the student participant’s preference for English is better explained by Bourdieu’s interpretation of linguistic habitus, rather than any innate superiority of English in explaining content.
Employment
During the focus groups, English was also perceived as enabling better employment opportunities and economic progress, which Indigenous languages seem less able to do. This is not a new observation. Both Dube (2017) and Ndlangamandla (2024), amongst others, have observed that students taught in their Indigenous languages have difficulty securing jobs after their studies compared to those who studied in English. This was also mentioned by two of our participants:
… I need employment, I need to increase and improve my proficiency in English, right, in order to be able to engage and communicate with others.
The other benefit [of English] is that, when looking for employment, right, you don’t have to be restricted to South Africa only, you can go look abroad, because English is the medium that is required. So, if you know that if you can communicate, and they feel that you are proficient enough, you are most likely to get employment. So, it’s a benefit in that regard.
English clearly has economic value. Dludlu (2016, p. 22) points out that “Colonial languages have more economic value than Indigenous languages” and that English is perceived as a pathway to a better life allowing for upward mobility. On the other hand, Indigenous languages seem to be associated with poverty, a lack of market-related critical skills and horizontal movement only (building connections with one’s community) (Ndlangamandla, 2024). This notion of the market value of English again speaks to Bourdieu’s concepts of linguistic and market habitus, and possibly accounts for the students’ perception of English as being a gateway to professional employment and a better life.
A Language of Unity
The student participants also highlighted the need to use English as a nationally and internationally understood language (English as a lingua franca and lingua academia). English seems to be able to bring people together, while ethnolinguistic lines can separate. Students also link the notion of “unity” to English by talking about the need to communicate with people outside of one’s language group, and the pressures of globalisation and internationalisation in higher education. Two pertinent comments are reproduced below.
This [English] is a common language. It is a language that brings us together … It helps us to connect—we are from different backgrounds and cultures … It helps us to connect. It makes it easy to understand each other. It is one language that helps us remember that at least we have one thing in common.
I’d say that if were taught in our language, I feel like there will be a bit of segregation, like we would still be divided … we will be limited basically, we won’t be able to, you know, for example, in university level, I pick up that some lecturers would try, you know, communicate in like different languages, you know, even when they greet us just to show our diversity. So, if we’re to be taught in, like, one language, it won’t be like, you know, multi-racial and all of that. It will be segregated. You’ll find that African Zulus, Afrikaans … everything is going to be segregated, there will be no unity. But it’s a good idea, but it will take a lot of like, you know, structuring and everything to make sure it’s successful.
Applying Bourdieu’s linguistic habitus here, it again becomes clear that the value attached to English is one of the reasons these students saw English as enabling communal and international unity. Mpofu (2019) makes a similar argument by drawing on wa Thiong’o as an example. Mpofu points out that when wa Thiong’o decided to write his novels and essays in Kikuyu, his mother tongue, the first people to complain were the Luo, the Kalenjini, and other language groups in Kenya. Later on, wa Thiong’o thus did “a decolonial thing to translate his works from Kikuyu to English, not to endorse the Empire but to reach out to the world and to globalise his decolonial insights” (Mpofu, 2019, n.p.).
While English remains important for higher education in terms of the sector’s efforts at internationalisation, institutions should remain mindful of the linguistic, epistemic, cultural, structural, institutional, and identity challenges (Bradford, 2016) of uncritically accepting English as the sole medium of instruction in the academy. In other words, we need to find ways to strip it of its colonial badges, intent, and agendas. Within academia, there is a need to critically engage with the colonial legacy of English while also harnessing its potential for positive transformation, which is in line with Bourdieu’s framework of linguistic habitus.
Indeed, wa Thiong’o also cautions against any uncritical or blind acceptance of English. He accepts that English, while enabling, can also disable (Indigenous languages, knowledges, identities, etc.). Wa Thiong’o warns us that:
It is true that in each African country, there are many nationalities and they speak different languages. But we should not hide our heads in the sand like the celebrated ostrich and pretend that this is not so, that we can solve the problems of that reality by importing a language of national salvation from Europe. There was a time when humans used to think of seas, oceans, gravity and space as barriers and enemies until they learnt how to use them. Why not pose the question of the multiplicity of languages and nationalities differently? We should ask: How can many languages be used to bring about the unity of African peoples within a country and within Africa? (wa Thiong’o, 2023, p. 26)
Bourdieu’s linguistic habitus, at a global level, presents an alternative reason for why the use of multiple languages in higher education has not taken root. Such a lack of multilingual enthusiasm, where offered, lies in the ingrained, subconscious linguistic dispositions students develop within their social contexts and global language dynamics. In the South African context, English retains its privileged and elitist position, reinforcing existing power structures that influence language preferences.
Entertainment
Lastly, the students also perceive English as the key to entertainment. An example of this is from a student comment below.
I think maybe you can say in terms of travelling, also. Like let’s say now I go to another place. Instead of having to learn another language in that place, it’s easier to speak English with those people since it’s a very common language. And it’s also like in terms of entertainment, like social media, like watching TV, most productions are produced in English.
The comment above shows how the student participants viewed English as a tool that enables their comprehension of academic content, their chances of finding employment after graduation, and their ability to unite with people from various contexts and backgrounds. Students also view the language as a gateway to global entertainment. The same observation is made by Rusko and Skorupa (2014), who argue that English is critical in exposing people to an endless world of art, literature, music and film. However, this exposure does not come without a cost. For example, Guo and Beckett (2007) say that the dominance of English in the entertainment industry points to the hegemonic dominance and cultural control of English, which has led to the silencing and peripherisation of local forms of entertainment and culture.
Indigenous Language and Its Enabling Practices
Based on the observations made above, English is viewed as a global language that facilitates communication, fosters a sense of global citizenship, promotes academic comprehension, enhances employability, enables seamless travel experiences, and provides endless entertainment opportunities. And yet, the student participants also had much to say regarding the role of Indigenous languages in their journeys through higher education. Two students, for example, commented on the value of their Indigenous language in helping them grapple with complex content.
So for me, my home language is like an activation for better understanding in a way. So for me, to answer the point that Lerato 2 was making about leaving [your home language behind] when you enter in the university, for me, it’s not like that, it. It’s something that I even use right now in order to understand whatever I’m reading and so on. I first relate in that way, and then I’m able to, now, interpret it in English.
So it plays an important role for me.
In the institution, English is the medium of instruction, but only 20 or 10% of the content that you learn remains in English. And then the whole other percentage of it becomes transferred into your own home language for understanding and [for] critical thinking purposes.
These are notable comments since, as highlighted in the introduction, the #Fallists movements were pivotal moments in the history of higher education in South Africa. Yet, the issue of language, specifically the use of Indigenous languages in the tertiary space, remained a peripheral issue in students’ calls to decolonise institutions of higher education. The silence surrounding Indigenous languages seems to have been motivated by the perceived enabling power of English and the perceived poverty and disabling effects of Indigenous African languages. While this is ironic from a decolonial point of view, it highlights some of the incoherence in the students’ call for a pluriversal and decolonised university. It also highlights the normalised perception that has been created of the undesirability of Indigenous languages in higher education or a lack of urgency when it comes to their use in the tertiary education space. In line with this, Petersen (2023) correctly observes that while South African institutions of higher education are currently working towards decolonising the curriculum, the language of academia remains overlooked in this liberatory process and quest for epistemic access and belonging.
Researchers such as Dube (2017) and Kumalo (2022) thus point to the need to decolonise students’ minds regarding the value they attached to their Indigenous languages. Yet, at the same time, one still needs to remain mindful of the enabling effects of English, as highlighted in the previous section (wa Thiong’o, 2023). Indeed, the data gathered from this study indicates the complex relationship that the students in this study have with both English and their Indigenous languages. The perceived enabling effects of Indigenous African languages include increased epistemic access and, therefore, academic success, as evidenced by the student who stated that “a percentage of [knowledge] becomes transferred into your own home language for understanding and [for] critical thinking”, and the expression of personal identity and being—contrary to the views held by students who participated in the linguistics protests.
In addition to the role that Indigenous languages play in communication and, thus, epistemic access, they also have a role in enabling a greater sense of belonging (see Joubert & Sibanda, 2022; Shava & Manyike, 2018) for a fuller discussion on the link between language and belonging. Connected to this sense of belonging is the link between a student’s Indigenous language and how they learn about the world. In essence, it represents who they are as people. One student, for example, commented below.
From a very young age, I got socialised, I got to understand the world, through my home language, I got to learn how to speak, I got to learn how to identify objects in my home language … most of the things that I know, I know them in my home language, and most of my learning started there.
What this student alludes to is the intimate link between language and identity. Another student participant, for example, stated that “my language also forms part of my identity, and it is who I am … English forms part of my academic identity, but it is not the kind of person I am”. Ultimately, the issue of language, especially the issue of language in education, cannot be discussed separately from the bodies that carry those languages. No language walks on its own feet and as Mpofu (2019, p. 3) explains,
Languages as different as they come are carried by different bodies. So, the way the university deals with languages is the way the university deals with human beings, different human beings. One cannot marginalise a language without marginalising those bodies that carry that language.
Mpofu’s argument above aligns with the view expressed by the students in this study that language is not just a tool for communication and learning. Language is who they are.
The contributions from the students who took part in this study indicate that Indigenous languages afford opportunities to re-imagine the contemporary university away from its current linguistic anglonormativity. Yet, these same students also commented on the importance of English in their lives, since it, too, plays a role in epistemic access, social access and employment. The student comment below, for example, highlights the feeling that several students in this study expressed. Given an option, they would choose both English and Indigenous languages in their learning as all these languages provide resources that help them in their learning:
I think if I had an option, I will choose both [English and home language]. I will choose both. And the reason behind this is because I need employment, I need to increase and improve my proficiency in English, right, in order to be able to engage and communicate with others. So, I would need to build on that part. And also Sesotho for my comprehension, for my understanding and my comfortability. So yeah, I choose both. If I had an option, I would like my degree to be blended in terms of English and Sesotho.
This student comment mirrors much of the tension in current language debates about the decolonisation of higher education (Maldonado-Torres, 2016). This tension is perhaps best articulated by wa Thiong’o (2023), who characterises these language debates by asking how we can maintain the enabling effect of English while doing away with its disabling effects (while also maximising the enabling effects of Indigenous languages). In other words, how can we eat our cake and have it? The student participant’s comment above also gestures towards a multilingual future in which English and Indigenous languages have an equal role to play in the new non-imperial, multilingual universality where all languages have their space and recognition outside the racialised hegemonic linguistic hierarchies (Sibanda, 2022). In this new multilingual space, all languages act to enable and thus, the inclusion of Indigenous languages in higher education should not be merely symbolic and tokenistic, but rather an intellectual and political elevation of Indigenous languages to their rightful place at the linguistic table in the academy, as articulated in the two comments below:
Why should English be the only language for teaching and learning? Why do we not incorporate other languages?… Why do we not also get another option to say that, okay, if you do not understand your English question paper, at least have your isiZulu or Sesotho question paper?
But for me, I feel that [using English] is a pitfall in a way that we lose a sense of our Africanism, if I can put it like that. Like you, you tend to forget that SeSotho is a language. And what you can do in English, you can also do in Sesotho. If you want to engage, you can engage in SeSotho. And you find yourself, when you go home, we tend to speak more of English and you forget the Sesotho, because you are in an environment where English is so dominant … If I’m in a classroom or in a lecture hall and there’s a question and I feel that I understand it, right, I should be able to say it in Sesotho. So by us continuing to use English as the only medium of instruction, we are continuing the stereotype or the idea that it’s important … But it’s important because we make it to be important.
The data above clearly indicate the student participants’ desire to embrace multilingualism, which seems to go against the misplaced decolonial calls of Third World fundamentalists and Afro-radicalists to do away with all colonial languages in the academy (Mpofu, 2019). It also goes against the often-naturalised call to maintain the supremacy of English as a continuation of indifferent attitudes and wilful blindness (Sibanda, 2022; Maldonado-Torres, 2016; Macedo, 1993).
As alluded to by the students in this study, they feel enabled and constrained by both English and their Indigenous languages in the academy. This is mainly where the complexities of the language debate lie. The issue of language in higher education is thus not “either/or” but “both/and”. There is thus a need to practicalise the enabling co-existence of colonial and Indigenous languages, while also recognising their ability to disable and trying to minimise these disabling effects. Language in education is thus a case of enabled contradiction and the co-existence of English and Indigenous languages as part of the new non-imperial universality. The work towards this enabled contradiction should consider a few key, practical factors, which have emerged from the student data. We turn to these factors now.
Thoughts on the Future of the Multilingual University
Clearing the Dust That Blinds Us
There are some aspects of the current intellectual conversations about decolonising language in the pedagogic space that are characterised by sloganeering, misinterpretations and propaganda. Such misinterpretations make it difficult to sustain a sense of enabled contradiction—i.e. the co-existence of all languages, which act to both enable and constrain students in the higher education space. It is thus necessary to “clear the dust that blinds us”, so to speak, if we are to truly achieve multilingualism in teaching and learning in universities. In some academic corners, for example, conversations about decoloniality and decolonising the languages of teaching and learning have been misinterpreted as the banishing of colonial languages, as mentioned earlier. Such posturing is often based on a misinterpretation of decoloniality and a misplaced radicalism that seeks to return to the pristine, impossible, uncolonised past with only Indigenous languages being used (Sibanda, 2022; Mpofu, 2019). This is an anticolonial colonial logic, for decoloniality is not a philosophy of exclusion, nor is it a “social construction of not seeing” (Macedo, 1993, p. 189) that deseats Indigenous languages in the academy as deficient and lacking.
Such is the dust that blinds us. While there is no debate that coloniality dis-membered and peripherised Indigenous languages in society, and higher education especially, decoloniality cannot use the same colonial logic of erasure since this is merely another form of coloniality. This is best captured by Mpofu (2019, p. 3), who states that:
There is something colonial and evil in repeating the same methods, systems, and tendencies of colonialism and coloniality in trying to or pretending to decolonise. Coloniality is infectious and has a tendency to infect and reproduce itself, even amongst and through some of the most radical decolonists.
A truly decolonised university is thus one that is also truly multilingual, a space where language differences are a resource, where all languages, including colonial languages, are part of a pluriversal existence. Clearing the dust thus requires us to delink English from its history as a tool of the colonists. Clearing the dust is a liberatory project that seeks to urgently create an equal space and recognition for all languages. It is thus a project concerned with getting people’s minds right—to accept that all languages and bodies in a multilingual university are legitimate and valid and need to dialogue on equal terms. Once this is understood by all in the academy, the dust can be lifted.
This is not an easy mind-shift, however. In considering this task, to clear the dust, through Bourdieu’s concept of linguistic habitus, it becomes evident that the prevailing intellectual conversations are influenced by deeply ingrained linguistic dispositions shaped by historical and societal structures. The language practices within academia reflect a complex interplay of power dynamics, perpetuating colonial legacies while also aspiring towards linguistic equity and inclusivity. The “dust” referred to in the text symbolises the obscured understanding and entrenched biases that cloud the discourse surrounding language decolonisation.
Translation as the Decolonial Language
In navigating these complex tensions in the academy, translation is one possible decolonial solution since it acts as “the language of languages” and is a “conversation between cultures” (wa Thiong’o, 2023, p. 9). Translation is one way to ensure that people of different languages and sensibilities hear each other as part of knowledge production and sharing processes. There is no more important or less important language, rather “they each give and take” (wa Thiong’o, 2023, p. 4). Translation, however, should not only be a one-way street, from English to the Indigenous but also (if not mainly) from the Indigenous to English. This is a point evidenced by wa Thiong’o through his writing in Gikuyu and successful translation of his work into English—much to the benefit of humankind, since translation is an act of sharing knowledge. Both de Sousa Santos (2014) and wa Thiong’o (2023) adequately deal with the theory, practice, and procedure of translation, and it is not our intention to re-present their work here. Of note to our argument, however, is de Castro’s (2004, p. 10) assertion that:
To translate is to situate oneself in the space of the equivocation and to dwell there. It is not to unmake the equivocation (since this would be to suppose it never existed in the first place), but precisely the opposite is true. To translate is to emphasise or potentialise the equivocation, that is, to open and widen the space imagined not to exist between the conceptual languages in contact, a space that the equivocation precisely concealed. The equivocation is not that which impedes the relation but that which founds and impels it: a difference in perspective. To translate is to presume that an equivocation always exists; it is to communicate by differences, instead of silencing the Other by presuming a univocality—the essential similarity—between what the Other and We are saying.
De Castro’s (2004) comment about dwelling in spaces of equivocation is perhaps another way of phrasing what we have been calling an enabled contradiction. By acknowledging the “both/and” dynamic of a multilingual institution (that all languages both enable and constrain in different ways), as the students in this research seem to have acknowledged, we do presume that “equivocation always exists”, as de Castro highlights, and that communicating by difference is a way to achieve a greater understanding of the world. Thus, translation, as a two-way bridge, is one of the ways that can be explored when navigating the tension created by enabled contradiction, as it is key to the ecology of languages and knowledges.
Multilingualism as a Resource
Existing in the tension and navigating the spectrum should include the incorporation of linguistic multiplicity into the pedagogic space for a re-imagined higher education. Multilingualism, as a transformative tool, is critical for improving academic excellence and social justice. As wa Thiong’o (2023, p. 9) states, “monolingualism is the carbon monoxide of cultures; multilingualism is the oxygen”. An intentional multilingual approach to teaching and learning has the potential to not only increase epistemic access but also help students develop a greater sense of belonging within an institution and a greater sense of pride in their Indigenous languages. A truly multilingual classroom is a space where all languages have a critical role to play in student learning—hence the students’ request for linguistic options in the classroom. But, for truly multilingual spaces to be established, certain myths need to be debunked. The prevalent argument that only English has the capability of bearing real or scientific knowledge (Bock, Stroud & de Souza, 2019) is not accurate. Ironically, the same accusations of deficit and epistemic poverty were made against English, French, and other colonial languages as they tried to emerge from the shadow of Latin, the language of imperial Rome (Wa Thiong’o, 2023, p. 8). In confronting such colonial myths, wa Thiong’o argues that:
… in reality, there is no language, despite the number of its speakers, which is inherently more of a language than other languages. Every language is equally a memory bank of knowledge, information and experiences of the community that created it … Every language is capable of expansion to embrace new experiences, information, and knowledge, even if they have to adopt words from other languages. Languages as mediums of information and knowledge can easily make new words or borrow from another. (2023, p. 8)
With political will and intellectual commitment, no language can be built into a language of science, spirituality and life. The Afrikaans language in South Africa is a good example of such development (taking place systematically and over a relatively short time frame). In short, any tokenisation of Indigenous languages in higher education sustains whiteness and the denigration of black thoughts (Kumalo, 2022). One of the participants pointed out this denigration. The student stated that “[if you use your Indigenous language in class, you get] ridiculed, laughed at and even shouted at by your lecturer”. While this comment demonstrates the normalised “disciplining effects when Blackness uses its mother tongue in the pedagogic space” (Kumalo, 2022, p. 134), it also clearly points to the need for deliberate implementation of multilingualism as a resource in the academy.
Translanguaging as a Resource
Garcia and Wei (2014, p. 261) define translanguaging as a process by which students and teachers engage in complex discursive practices that include the language practices of students to develop new language practices and sustain old ones, communicate and appropriate knowledge, and give voice to new socio-political realities by interrogating linguistic inequality.
Translanguaging, in other words, is the use of all linguistic (and communication) resources to understand and communicate with others. It allows for integrating Indigenous epistemologies and languages into educational spaces and enables speakers to utilise their linguistic resources to understand concepts. It is not code-switching, which treats languages as distinct codes or systems switched on and off for communication (Velasco & Garcia, 2014) and instead posits that all languages can be simultaneously used for meaning-making (García, Flores & Woodley, 2012). To understand what translanguaging is in a classroom environment, it is therefore necessary to see it from the viewpoint of the speaker, rather than the teacher (Garcia & Wei, 2015. Ultimately, it is student-centred, and emphasises meaning-making through students’ repertoires, cultural practices, and ways of knowing (Ndhlovu & Makalela, 2021; Mbirimi-Hungwe, 2023), rather than solely relying on the teachers’ comprehension.
Final Thoughts
This article has aimed to do two things. The first was to give voice to the University of the Free States’ students and their thoughts within current complex language debates. What we wanted to know at the start of this research was essentially, “what do students want?” What very quickly became apparent from the data was that students want choice. They want the opportunity to use both English and their Indigenous languages as all language resources to enable epistemic access. What also became apparent from the data is that all languages seem to act in both enabling and constraining ways. The key is to know when a language acts to enable and when it acts to constrain, so that we can all, students and staff alike, use language to enable.
Moving towards the second aim, crafting a framework for a multilingual university, requires us to shake off outdated views and embrace the vast potential multilingualism has to offer. Achieving such an environment necessitates institution-wide enlightenment, wherein the faculty, administration, and students alike recognise the inherent value of linguistic diversity. This recognition paves the way for policies that not only tolerate but actively promote the use of multiple languages. The initial groundwork would involve well-thought-out curricula that integrate the use of native languages in teaching alongside English. Then comes the development of resources, such as multilingual glossaries and texts, and training of educators to adeptly switch linguistic codes depending on the pedagogical context.
Moreover, it calls for a shift in mindset, wherein monolingualism is no longer the benchmark for academic excellence. By fostering an environment where languages are seen as complementary rather than competitive, a university can begin to dismantle the hierarchies that have historically prioritised English over other languages. In doing so, it not only enhances the educational experience for students but also echoes a more inclusive and culturally sensitive approach aligned with global educational perspectives.
Ultimately, this research paves the way for a dialectical shift in higher education. It encourages institutions to reconsider and redesign their linguistic lenses, to innovate pedagogical practices and to prioritise student agency in their linguistic choices. The end goal is to cultivate an educational atmosphere that not only tolerates but thrives on the exchange between languages, where multilingualism becomes a celebrated humanity of the academic experience.