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In Zimbabwe loss of native languages leads to a generation’s identity crisis

Published

3 years ago

February 4, 2022

BY FORTUNE MOYO AND KUDZAI MAZVARIRWOFA

Sheets of animal hide hang on the otherwise bare walls of this dimly lit room. A wooden plate filled with burning herbs is placed in front of the procession of neatly lined candles, along with a bowl of water.

Sitting in the room are Nancy Khumalo and her aunt, Thokozani Khumalo.

Almost instinctively, Thokozani Khumalo wraps a piece of loose fabric around the waist of her niece, who is wearing blue jeans and a red T-shirt, because she believes it’s disrespectful to approach the altar dressed in non-traditional wear.

Everything here needs to be pure; everything must be sacred. After all, this isn’t an ordinary day.

Today, Nancy Khumalo, a 25-year-old Zimbabwean nurse who grew up in the United Kingdom, is trying to communicate with her dead ancestors for the first time to seek answers to urgent questions about her life.

But this isn’t going to be easy, not because of the complicated nature of these rituals in general, but because Nancy Khumalo, like many in her generation of Zimbabweans, has lost touch with the first prerequisite for the ritual of connecting to her ancestors — the language to speak with them.

Though Zimbabwe is one of the countries in southern Africa with a diverse language landscape, several of its indigenous languages — along with roughly half of the world’s 6,000 or 7,000 languages — are hanging by a thread.

Losing a language is more than just losing a few codes for communication. Here, language acts as a cultural glue to hold together a community, its unique ways of life, its intangible heritage and its collective memory.

And so, the slow decay of these languages is worrying a younger generation in the country that fears they won’t ever know their roots.

For Nancy Khumalo, not knowing her indigenous language Ndebele means struggling to make sense of her own identity at an age when she wants to better understand herself.

“During rituals and traditional practices, knowing their original languages plays an important part in connecting with the ancestors,” says Khumbulani Nhali, who works to preserve the tradition of the Kalanga tribe.

“It is believed your ancestors are able to easily identify you when you connect using their indigenous language.”

The importance of language is not seen only in traditional rituals and practices.

Because most indigenous cultures transmit knowledge orally, spoken languages become a repository of information.

With the loss of these languages, the names, uses and preparations of medicines, for example, or the methods of farming, fishing, hunting or even survival become collateral damage.

In Zimbabwe, 16 official languages are spoken and recognized in the country’s constitution.

English is the official language for business and commerce; Shona and Ndebele are major indigenous languages.

In pre-colonial Africa, language was used to identify with a community’s way of life.

For most children in Zimbabwe, the first language is the one spoken at home, often an indigenous language, that then becomes part of their identity.

But cultural analysts say the country’s colonial past, globalization and the spread of migrants’ languages all contribute to a sense of language loss and a detachment from the larger Zimbabwean identity.

Senete Majowani, tour guide and educator at the Kore Kore Cultural Village, an artificially created space in Zimbabwe’s Mashonaland West that aims to preserve the culture of the Kore-Kore tribe, says migration of people in search of better opportunities has led to a situation where there are barely any elders left behind to impart cultural traditions.

“The absence of the elderly as cultural custodians in families,” he says has led to “the dilution of dialects,” together with the “superior status” ascribed to the English language.

Methuseli Zulu, a 23-year-old chemical engineering student in Bulawayo, says his family speaks Ndebele at home, but he prefers to speak English to his siblings.

Mellisa Muleya, 23, says while her parents speak Tonga because they are from Binga, a district in the province of Matabeleland North, she knows only how to greet in the language.

As she grew up in Bulawayo in southwest Zimbabwe, she spoke Ndebele like everyone else there.

Those concerned with the future of languages in the country say the mix of languages is a dormant crisis waiting to explode.

What these youngsters speak is not exactly a language, Nhali says, but a cocktail they pick right from “the street pot. It is a mixed bag of foreign dialects and local indigenous languages, giving a cocktail of confusion that can be seen in the confused personalities of most young people.”

In 2017, the government for the first time introduced examinations in minority languages taught in schools, through the Zimbabwe School Examinations Council.

Tonga, Nambya, Venda and Chewa are several languages tested in schools.

Asked about the government’s role in promoting and preserving indigenous languages, Taungana Blessing Ndoro, the director of communications and advocacy for the Ministry of Primary and Secondary Education, says, “We’re teaching in indigenous languages from [early childhood development] to grade two.”

Omphile Marupi, a Sotho tribe member who is a radio producer and presenter, says Zimbabwe’s education system has ignored the versatility and importance of indigenous languages in the curriculum.

“Our languages have been confined to the village and not taken to the laboratory to develop with other languages as seen with Chinese, Japanese and Mandarin,” he says.

“While it is proper to embrace English, indigenous languages should be given space in the academia to sprout.”

When asked about this alleged neglect of indigenous languages, Ndoro didn’t respond to multiple requests for comment.

Inside this sacred room, speaking in English, Nancy Khumalo apologizes to her ancestors while her aunt simultaneously interprets her words.

Both exit the space with a hope that the spirits understand the intent behind the initiation and guide Nancy Khumalo to the answers she is seeking. – Global Press Journal

Related Topics:generation of Zimbabweans in southern Africa with a diverse language landscape Zimbabwean identity

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National

Coal train in flames: NRZ locomotive damaged in fire incident

Published

3 weeks ago

April 16, 2025

VicFallsLive

BY WANDILE TSHUMA

A National Railways of Zimbabwe (NRZ) locomotive suffered significant damage after catching fire while transporting export coal to Zambi. The incident occurred between Kalala and Matetsi sidings, resulting in the explosion of the locomotive’s fuel tanks.

According to the NRZ press statement on Monday, “A National Railways of Zimbabwe locomotive suffered some damages after it caught fire this afternoon while transporting export coal to Zambia.” Fortunately, the crew members on board managed to escape unharmed.

The NRZ responded swiftly to the incident, dispatching a rescue train with crews to the site. The team successfully extinguished the fire, preventing further damage. However, the locomotive itself sustained considerable damage.

The cause of the fire is yet to be determined, with investigations currently underway. “Investigations are already underway to establish the cause of the fire and the amount of damage to the locomotive,” the NRZ statement read.

In the community

Human-wildlife conflict claims 18 lives in Zimbabwe’s first quarter

Published

3 weeks ago

April 16, 2025

VicFallsLive

BY NOKUTHABA DLAMINI

The Zimbabwe Parks and Wildlife Management Authority (ZimParks) has reported a disturbing trend of human-wildlife conflict in the country’s first quarter of 2025. According to the authority, 18 people have lost their lives, and 32 others have been injured in encounters with wildlife.

ZimParks spokesperson Tinashe Farawo revealed that the authority received 579 cases of human-wildlife conflict, which they managed to respond to promptly. The incidents have also resulted in significant livestock losses, with at least 53 cattle and 85 goats killed by wildlife.

The districts most affected by these incidents include Binga, Hwange, Kariba, Chiredzi, Hurungwe, Nyaminyami, and Mbire. ZimParks has been working tirelessly to raise awareness about wildlife behaviors and effective preventive measures in these areas.

In response to the crisis, ZimParks has translocated 129 animals back into protected areas and eliminated 158 animals deemed problematic.

“We encourage communities to continue reporting incidents to ZimParks Problem Animal Control numbers and local leadership, such as Councillors, Traditional Leaders, and Rural District Council Authorities, to ensure that we preserve lives,” Farawo urged.

The significant increase in livestock losses, with cattle deaths rising from 18 to 53 and goat deaths from 21 to 85 compared to the same period in 2024, highlights the growing challenge of human-wildlife conflict in Zimbabwe.

ZimParks’ efforts to mitigate the conflict include community initiatives to educate people on managing wildlife encounters effectively.

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Tens of Thousands in Zimbabwe Go Hungry as the Rains — and US Aid — Hold Back

Published

1 month ago

April 4, 2025

VicFallsLive

Tanayeishe Musau eats baobab porridge after school at his home in Mudzi, Zimbabwe, where the dish has become a daily staple amid worsening drought and hunger. Once a simple supplement, baobab porridge is now a primary meal for families like his, following widespread food shortages and the suspension of international aid.

BY LINDA MUJURU

This story was originally published by Global Press Journal.

Agnes Tauzeni stands on her parched field. She is a mother to two children, and is expecting another. But now, in a time that might otherwise have been joyful, her hopes wither like the struggling crops before her.

Three times she’s gambled on the rains; three times the sky has betrayed her. Her first two plantings failed. The soil was too dry to sustain life. Though her third attempt yielded a few weak shoots, they offered little promise of a meaningful harvest. El Niño-driven droughts have disrupted once-reliable rains, leaving Tauzeni’s family and many like hers struggling to feed themselves.

“I am always hungry,” Tauzeni says.

She worries about the health of her unborn child, based on how little nutrition she consumes herself.

Adding to this, food aid, previously funded by the US Agency for International Development, halted suddenly in January. That transformed what was already a struggle into a desperate battle for survival.

The food aid ended when US President Donald Trump, on his first day in office, issued an executive order that paused nearly all US foreign aid, most of which was administered by USAID. That agency is now all but defunct.

Food aid in Zimbabwe was an ongoing area of funding for USAID. In November 2024, the agency announced $130 million for two seven-year programs, implemented by CARE and Cultivating New Frontiers in Agriculture, that would provide food aid and other related support to areas of Zimbabwe most in need. The programs, which stopped, were just part of an ongoing slate of activities designed to help Zimbabwe’s neediest people.

About 7.6 million people in Zimbabwe — nearly half the country’s population — need humanitarian assistance, according to a 2025 UNICEF report. Of those, nearly 6 million, like Tauzeni, rely on subsistence farming.

Through the support of organizations with funding from USAID, people previously received cereals, edible seeds, oil and food vouchers.

“A sudden withdrawal can put the entire community in a dire situation,” says Hilton Mbozi, a seed systems and climate change expert.

Tauzeni recalls that her community used to receive food supplies such as beans, cooking oil and peanut butter to help combat malnutrition.

When Tauzeni got married in 2017, her fields promised abundance. Her harvests were plentiful, and her family never lacked food. Now, those memories feel like whispers from another world. The past two agricultural seasons, those harvests have been devastatingly poor.

With an empty granary and dwindling options, Tauzeni’s family survives on the same food every day: baobab porridge in the morning and sadza with wild okra in the evening. But Tauzeniworries whether even this will be on the table in the coming months.

“The little maize I have, I got after weeding someone else’s crops, but that won’t take us far,” she says.

Tauzeni says a 20-kilogram (44-pound) bag of maize costs US$13 in her village, an amount out of reach for her. Her only source of income is farming. When that fails, she has no money at all.

Hunger like Tauzeni experiences is widespread. Some families now eat just once a day.

Headman David Musau, leader of Musau village where Tauzenilives, says some people in his village did not plant any seeds this season, fearing losses due to the low rainfall. The government provides food aid inconsistently, usually 7 kilograms (15 pounds) of wheat per person for three months.

“It’s not enough, but it helps,” he says.

But without any other food aid, survival is at stake, he says. “People will die in the near future.”