Am I african?

It was my first time in Pretoria, South Africa… I remember at some friends’ gathering, a young woman approached me and asked which language I speak in Angola. I said ‘Portuguese’. She then asked if I only speak Portuguese and I said ‘yes’. She told me how lucky I was for speaking ‘my language’. She was referring to the fact that South Africans are ‘forced’ to speak English.

 

I am not Portuguese; I am Angolan but I have spoken Portuguese since I was two years old. My whole family speaks Portuguese and in school I was taught in Portuguese. I am not lucky! And I don’t speak my language at all, in fact, I don’t even know which language is inherently mine.

 

Angola has six national languages: Kikongo, Chokwe, Umbumdu, Kimbundu, Nganguela and Kwanyama. I heard my grandmother once or twice curse or preach in Kimbundu and some Angolans songs quote Kimbundu sayings to make it profound. But I have no clue what they are saying.

 

The same way South Africans didn’t know the Portuguese enslaved the Portuguese language on us, I also was ignorant to the fact that they have 11 languages. I realized how naïve I was concerning this language issue. South African’s hunger for ownership enlightened and challenged me to learn more about it.

 

I now understand that English is for South Africans what Portuguese is for Angolans - natural handcuffs. Portuguese, British and every other nation from Europe who colonized the African continent still have a hold on us.

 

Even though everyone in South Africa speak English fluently, they still speak one or two of their ethnic dialects. It is a way of fighting for their own, for standing for what is naturally theirs. South Africans are "rebels of hope", they speak Zulu every day, they greet you in Xhosa, compliment you in Sotho, sing in Swazi and so on...I was amazed by their courage to maintain something so valuable. I found myself wanting to learn Zulu and join South Africans on this dance for fighting to keep African dialects alive.

 

I always wondered why I was bad at Portuguese grammar. I realised we were not compatible; it wasn’t meant to be. Portuguese is not my language, it never was, it will never be. My mind wasn’t coping with it, it always felt like a new weather and I wasn’t used to it. Language is an inheritance from our ancestors and clearly Portuguese wasn’t my anthem.

 

I understand that English is a universal language and it can take you anywhere but how can you feel connected to your land without knowing which languages your comrades used to cry; the lingo slaves used to scream their pain; and the vernacular your grandfather proposed to your grandmother.

 

South Africans showed me their leadership and how they run their country. Their pride for being Africans spoke to me. I heard several stories about their habits and customs: how until today they still allow their children to go to the mountains to be a man; how a man still needs to pay a certain amount to marry the girl of his dreams; and how they still eat traditional food every day, ignoring the society self-proclaimed habit of ‘eating healthy’.

 

I couldn’t see the European influence colonizing them again. Indeed, they follow European's fashion, entertainment , technology, sports and so on but these are just trends, they don’t rule South Africans. They still have the last word! They speak loudly, dance spontaneously and act carefree like a proud African.

 

I think it’s about time for us glamorize our roots instead of changing our accents and despise what makes us unique. This era is perfect momentum to resuscitate our languages since we are constantly branding ourselves, through exchanging our African print fabrics; emancipating our afro hair; franchising our food; and sharing our dance moves.

 

I realised that we have been trying to revive our languages step by step, by naming our children traditional and ancient names and using film to tell our stories. Undoubtedly, language is a vehicle for emancipation and a catalyst for revolution. And words represent culture; they rule our lives and evoke change.

 

A set of words become a sentence, an eternal verdict that was assigned by the colonisers. Let’s change the jury and make the silent languages stand their ground! I am African! And I am determined to work on conserving our national treasures through waking up our languages, honoring our elders and embracing our identity.

Lunga Izata
14th June 2016