IsiXhosa content creator Olwethu Ncapayi
Photo: Supplied

This powerful truth was discovered by content creator Olwethu Ncapayi. Growing up in a Xhosa household, he realised his world was filled with stories that deserved to be told. Mainstream media was neglecting such stories, so he turned to social media. This creator saw the overwhelming dominance of English on social media and chose a different path. Using isiXhosa was his way of intentionally breaking from that norm to champion his own language and identity. IsiXhosa was the language of his heart, and it immediately formed a deep connection with an audience who finally saw their own lives, jokes, and truths reflected back at them.

This beautiful quote from Brainy quotes, highlights that speaking a person’s language doesn’t just convey information, it builds a powerful bridge to their heart.
photo: Supplied.

What started as Ncapayi’s deeply personal stories, later flourished into something universal. Through the power of humour and shared experiences, people across the African continent and beyond could relate to his content. These short, meaningful videos became more than just entertainment. They became a statement of cultural preservation, sparking nostalgia and reminding us of our shared heritage.

The article by Ndivhuwo Doctor Sundani, Pheelo Mabizela, and Rachel Mmapitso Maboa, emphasises that podcasts are modern, independent media that promote the development of African languages by allowing for the creation of new terminology, in contrast to traditional media controlled by large organisations.
Photo: Busuku Ntombekhaya

His journey wasn't without challenges. It took two years of consistent work to break beyond the local community. But that authenticity eventually paid off and he went viral, with his videos trending in Europe and America. To other creators who are skeptical about using their home languages in media landscape, Ncapayi’s message is clear; don’t be afraid. Brands may seem to favour the mainstream, but your originality is your strength. Social media gives you the power to preserve your culture and build a brand that is authentically you.

The quote from Ndivhuwo Doctor Sundani, Pheelo Mabizela, and Rachel Mmapitso Maboa, shows how modern media makes English feel unavoidable, pushing African languages aside. But it also reminds us that every post in our own language is an act of resistance and cultural pride.
Photo: Busuku Ntombekhaya

From a one man show to a brand recognised across continents, his journey is a motivation to us all. Our stories matter, and our languages are the most powerful tool to tell them. So, pick up your phone, tell your story. #OurLanguagesOurStories, say it in African the world is waiting to listen.

Mr. Xolile Madinda, a CEO, founder of The Black Power Station, and a hip-hop artist.
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In a world that is exploding with the dominance of English in media, the fight for the importance of African languages can feel like an uphill battle. However, for activists and artists like Madinda, the solution isn’t just in policy or academia; it’s on the streets, in the communities, and in the vibrant music that brings their languages to life. At the heart of this linguistic resurrection is an unexpected champion: Hip-hop.

“Language is the key for people to be able to know how to represent themselves in the world,” he argues. He further explains that using indigenous African languages in hip-hop is a game changer. It’s not just about the song; it’s about a conversation. he highlighted that for him rapping in isiXhosa allowed him to “get to the hearts of the people, without them trying to decode what we're trying to say.” The concept may seem simple, but it’s meaning is deeply significant.

More than a room, this is a hub of culture where African languages are celebrated and nurtured. In this space, the “currency “of the mother tongue is increased, and every corner holds the promise of a story waiting to be told.
Photo: Busuku Ntombekhaya

The language’s newfound value encouraged the community to listen more closely, which in turn transformed the artists. By using their native language to articulate complex thoughts, they developed a deeper awareness and understanding of their own society. “We view our society in a different way when we start to rap in our mother tongue. We are sensitive about what we say, and we are aware of what we say, because we speak our language.” This process, according to Madinda, increases the “currency of hip-hop being rooted in African culture.”

This hip-hop movement is also about building society from within. “You cannot develop with a foreign language, because you need to be developing also a lifestyle of a foreign society, so when you use your own language, you develop a language, develop a society within the culture itself.” By rapping in their native language, artists are building a society and culture that is authentically theirs. This makes their content relevant to young people and help them, “pinpoint social ills” and “address issues.”

A key passage from Esther Milu's article, highlighting how artists like Jua Cali use hip-hop to challenge the dominant status of languages like English and preserve African culture. This aligns with Xolile Madinda's view on using the mother tongue to empower communities and shift dynamics between artists and their audience.
Photo: Busuku Ntombekhaya

However, this movement isn’t without challenges. Madinda raises an important point that social media platforms and apps are not ready for African languages. Thier poor translation is an indicator of that, but he believes that the more we write and publish in our languages, the more app developers will be able to “dictate African languages, dialects that are related to African societies.”

This excerpt from Esther Milu's article highlights how artists are “writing back” to colonial languages like English through their music. This concept aligns with Xolile Madinda's belief that using the mother tongue in hip-hop is an act of cultural empowerment and self-representation.
Photo: Busuku Ntombekhaya

At The Black Power Station, they believe people should be able to express themselves in their own language. It’s a powerful act of validating their identity, ensuring that their culture, values, and stories are heard loud and clear. It’s more than just music; it’s about cultural awakening.

Dr. Chikezie E. Uzuegbunam is a Senior Lecturer, master’s Programme Coordinator, Chair of Research Forum, and Deputy Head of the School of Journalism and Media Studies for Teaching and Research, at Rhodes University in South Africa.
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I have attended quite few talk events about decoloniality, and truth be told they often start to sound the same, filled with familiar phrases that risks turning the whole idea into a cliche rather than a call to real change. The term ‘decolonising,’ has been used so fashionably in posters, social media, conference titles. As professor Nkomo suggested, it’s at risk of becoming just another ‘buzzword’, but Dr. Chikezie’s words made it feel real again.

The Black Power Station is a decolonial space where books, art, and Black Consciousness meet. Rooted in Steve Biko’s ideals, it fosters a pedagogy of confidence. The fusion of books, indigenous materials, and Afrocentric aesthetics resists colonial erasure and reclaims learning as a liberating, culturally grounded act. This is decolonisation in action—where learners are reminded that their ways of knowing and being matter.
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What captured my attention was how he broke down decoloniality to the classroom level. He wasn’t talking about grand plans or theories. Instead, he focused on his students, the course he teaches, and how he diligently remodels his teaching style to centre African knowledge systems and student voices.

That really hit home for me because I wasn’t a stranger to what he was describing — when I was in my third year, he did exactly that. Instead of treating us like empty vessels, we had a say in how the course should work, and we did very well. I believe his teaching style is a blueprint for how academic spaces should work, rather than making one person the sole source of knowledge. If all educators could adopt this approach; they’d be surprised by how much they could learn from their students.

Dr. Chikezie’s unique teaching style is framed around what he calls ‘pedagogy of confidence.’ in simple words, it’s about believing in the intellectual capacity of all students, especially those from marginalised backgrounds, ‘transforming curricula to include diverse viewpoints, and serving disempowered groups.’ His teaching style rejects the traditional idea that teachers transmit fixed knowledge by Africanising the curriculum and allow students to co-create the classroom experience. ‘I centre African knowledge systems, theories and ways of knowing.’

This quote is from Neema Begum and Rima Saini’s article titled “Decolonising the curriculum,” and it suggests that building a “pedagogy of confidence” it’s about moving away from ‘dead white men’ on the syllabus and believing in the intellectual power of every student. Time to decolonise, not just to diversify.
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It starts by giving space to every voice and every language. From his presentation it was clear that decolonisation is not as simple as putting names of African authors in reading list, it goes beyond that. Creating an environment where every single student feels seen, heard, and capable of greatness is the true definition of decolonisation.

Professor Nkomo’s historical account gives context to Dr. Chikezie’s non-traditional methods. Prof. Nkomo have had highlighted that the dominant European languages were not ‘innately blessed with the status they enjoy now.’ They became dominant through "political, cultural, and economic processes.” This history highlights that systems of knowledge are not fixed, they are shaped. Prof. Nkomo’s account supports Dr. Chikezie’s unconventional methods. If entire languages of power can be constructed, then a curriculum, an assignment, and a student's understanding can also be actively and collaboratively built in the classroom.

This quote from Yvette Jackson’s article titled ‘Pedagogy of confidence,’ it highlights the need to reshape how language and learning are valued in the classroom.
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Dr. Chikezie’s idea of a pedagogy of confidence, influenced by Yvette Jackson, asserts that every student is capable of performing well intellectually—when the educator believes in them and works with them to reach their highest potential. This approach shifts focus away from students' perceived weaknesses and directly challenge the deficit views often held about students from marginalised backgrounds.

Professor Nkomo’s talk clearly highlighted the origins of the deficit view. He argued that in our society, "linguistic hierarchies actually translate to knowledge hierarchies." For generations, African languages have been labelled as ‘dialects,’ not good enough for intellectual work, while colonial languages have been privileged.

Dr. Chikezie’s pedagogy of confidence aims to heal what Prof. Nkomo identifies as linguistic imperialism, where African languages are demonised to instil a sense of intellectual inferiority. When a student’s language is treated as inferior—whether implicitly or explicitly—it undermines their confidence in their own cognitive abilities.

Professor Dion Nkomo, presenting on Multilingualism, Research, and Postgraduate Education.
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One of the speakers at the colloquium was Professor Dion Nkomo, an Associate Professor of African Language Studies and Interim Chair of the Intellectualisation of African Languages, Multilingualism and Education at the School of Languages and Literature at Rhodes University. As he was presenting on Multilingualism, Research, and Postgraduate Education, I resonated deeply with his argument, and he made a powerful point that linguistic hierarchies in our society are directly tied to knowledge hierarchies. He argued that for far too long, African languages have been reduced to the statues of so-called ‘dialects,’ a standpoint which implied that they are not suitable for ‘intellectual work’ of higher education.

He added that this is not how things are supposed to be, rather it is another form of ‘linguistic imperialism’ that is a direct legacy of colonialism. He challenged this notion by revisiting the state of European languages, like English before they got their majestic status, showing us that they were not “innately blessed with the status that they are enjoying now” but became languages of power through intentional political, cultural, and economic projects. Meaning if these European languages were able to be intellectualised, so can our 12 official languages but that of course will demand a lot of work and determination.

Quote from a scholarly article by M.V. Makokotela and M.T. Gumbo, quoting former South African President Thabo Mbeki’s address at the 14th conference of commonwealth Education Ministers. The highlighted passage emphasises the challenge of transforming post-apartheid education in South Africa, specifically through curriculum reform aimed at restoring the cultural pride of Black South Africans.
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The comments he made about ‘linguistic imperialism,’ hit close to home. I remember sitting in that talk and muttering ‘hectic’ when prof Nkomo mentioned that some Africans during colonial time willingly fought against the use of their own languages. The shock came from recognition that this isn’t just history, but an ongoing struggle in our communities. When I am having conversation with fellow journalism students about languages, I often hear them saying, “My kids will never learn an uncivilised language, because that would be a waste of time. In the workplace, they’ll need to be fluent in English.” Now, I’m not saying we should use multilingualism as a crusade against English. My argument is that when our own languages are completely neglected, it shows that we’ve internalised linguistic imperialism. By prioritising monolingualism, especially in English, we’re still feeding the colonial library.

Quote from a scholarly article by M.V. Makokotela and M.T. Gumbo, this reinforces the idea that decolonisation means choosing for us, pushing back against the harm caused by colonial rule.
Photo: Ntombekhaya Busuku

This commitment to decolonisation must go beyond surface-level actions. A major problem pointed out by Professor Nkomo is that "intellectualisation" has become a "buzzword," warning that if "you are putting a funding application and say intellectualisation of African languages, you are most likely going to get funding, even if you are going to do something else with that money." This argument was later echoed by Dr. Chikezie Uzuegbunam, who, citing Tanya Bosch, cautions that decolonisation itself is "increasingly at risk of meaning nothing as a trendy signifier," becoming a "branding exercise that signals ethical awareness while leaving out underlying structures of power untouched."

The true challenge lies in recognising that "linguistic hierarchies actually translate to knowledge hierarchies," a structural issue that requires more than token inclusion. Dr. Uzuegbunam reinforces this by citing Achille Mbembe's concept of "epistemic schizophrenia, where the surface changes but the underlying structures remain the same." Therefore, a practical call to action is needed. This involves creating what Dr. Uzuegbunam terms a "pedagogy of confidence" and actively "Africanising" the curriculum by centering African knowledge systems. This approach moves beyond merely adding different names to a reading list and instead fundamentally changes how the curriculum is delivered, ensuring the language we use and the knowledge we create are authentically our own.

Quote from a scholarly article by M.V. Makokotela and M.T. Gumbo, show that real change means trusting and using African knowledge—not just adding it in, but making it the foundation.
Photo: Ntombekhaya Busuku

Professor Nkomo, along with the speaker after him, Dr. Chikezie Uzuegbunam, warned about what they called “lip service” to decolonisation. It’s easy for institutions to use buzzwords like “decolonisation” or “intellectualisation,” as Professor Nkomo noted, especially when it helps secure funding. But true transformation requires a real commitment to changing the power structures that continue to privilege certain languages over others.

Photographed at the Amazwi South African Museum of Literature: A Striking symbol of how Africans have been zombified by funding dependency.
Photo: Ntombekhaya Busuku

It demands more than just symbolic gestures — it calls for genuine efforts to make our languages tools for academic and professional success, not just markers of cultural pride. This exposes how we’ve normalised accepting the bare minimum, as long as there’s money involved, only to later complain about being misrepresented.

The question of language shouldn’t be treated as a separate issue — it must be addressed alongside other societal challenges. You cannot talk about language and leave out the racial, economic, and land questions. It is our duty to ensure that our languages are not just tolerated but actively developed and promoted as rich and powerful carriers of knowledge.

Quote from a scholarly article by M.V. Makokotela and M.T. Gumbo, it supports my view that true decolonisation must go beyond symbolic gestures to embrace the full cultural and intellectual value of African languages and perspectives.
Photo:Ntombekhaya Busuku

This is the soul and heart of Say it in African: a call to action not just to speak our languages, but to use them to shape our future.

Jean Du Toit, head of the School of Journalism and Media Studies at Rhodes University, discussing the department’s role on the isiXhosa for Journalism project
Photo: Ntombekhaya Busuku

Jeanne explained that ‘The isiXhosa for Journalism’ project was an idea came up with the Rhodes University School of African languages. She explained that their vision was clear, and it was to ensure that if one is a professional in South Africa, especially journalists, they need to “speak a multitude of languages,” not just English. This was a significant project because many people, even those whose mother tongue is an African language, sometimes have difficulties to write professionally. The primary goal was to prepare students to serve clients effectively across South Africa’s diverse linguistical landscape. reflecting a broader post-apartheid drive to integrate African languages into professional training.

This quote from chapter12 co-authored by Jean Du Toit and Pamela Maseko highlights the value of multilingualism. The authors, in their work titled, ‘The case of isiXhosa in Journalism and Media Studies at a South African University’, explore the significance of mastering multiple languages and how this contributes to personal growth and a more well-rounded perspective
Photo: Ntombekhaya Busuku(book)

Back then, when their project started was met with a resistance, a number of students was not keen on the idea of having to learn isiXhosa, particularly the white English-speaking majority weren’t excited about learning an African language. They felt it was not relevant because they have had dreams of working overseas, so learning an African language was unnecessary for them. Despite the pushback, the school stood its grounds, and decided it was a core skill and made the course mandatory. This caused some tension, and interestingly, white students often leaned on black students for translations, meaning the white students sometimes benefited more without a "profound transformation" in their own language identity.

This quote highlights the reluctance of some individuals to learn languages other than their own, often due to a perception that these languages are inferior; conversely, Africans have frequently been compelled to learn foreign languages without significant complaint

Photo: Ntombekhaya Busuku (book)

Things have evolved and shifted significantly today compared to how they were back then. The student body is now much more diverse, with many students speaking different African languages. Jeanne emphasised that the course moves beyond learning words, its understanding why multilingualism matters, and establishing ‘respect and sensitivity’ for different cultures. For example, Makhanda population consists of 80 percent of isiXhosa speakers and its simply important for journalists to understand the local languages and culture. These essential skills, including understanding cultural values and beliefs, are also "transferable" and incredibly useful for reporting in any diverse community around the globe.

Jean Du Toit and Pamela Maseko use this quote in their work to emphasize that for a journalist, connecting with a person's soul is the key to getting true and honest responses
Photo: Ntombekhaya Busuku (book)

Thinking of the future ahead, Jeanne believes that the isiXhosa for Journalism course should become a bigger part of Journalism curriculum, instead of being a distant class taught by the School of African languages department. She feels that while the course assist students to understand and commit to speaking many languages, making it a core part of journalism program would truly change how the school teaches about multilingualism. As she stated. “I don't think we're going to see a complete transformation of the school... It's always at a distance. It is something that we contract out to the School of Languages.” Jeanne feels that this deeper connection would make sure students regularly use their multilingual skills in all their journalism work, from talking to people to sharing their stories.

Understanding this non-verbal language is just as vital as knowing the spoken one to truly capture the heart and soul of a community.
Photo:Busuku Ntombekhaya

A powerful comment from my fellow media worker, Karabo Matalajoe, continues to stick with me. She perfectly captured this idea by saying, “It is very important to be multilingual, not just to understand but to know how to respond as well, because we get to meet and communicate with different people in different cultures and it’s important for you to form that connection with them.” This resonated with me on a deep level because it highlights a powerful distinction that it’s not just about word for word translation, it’s about connection. When we communicate with people in their own language, they're not just vessels for exchanging information—it's a way of building trust. When we adopt their language, we are showing respect, we are creating a space that feels safe enough for them to let us in their world and completely share their stories with us, without fear of being misrepresented.

This beautiful quote from Brainy quotes, highlights that speaking a person’s language doesn’t just convey information, it builds a powerful bridge to their heart.
photo: Supplied.

She further pointed out that this isn't easy. While she has a basic understanding of five South African languages, she described a challenge many in the media space face, especially when moving to a new region. 'I've realised that I speak differently compared to here and it has somewhat changed how I get my job done and made it difficult.' Her experience highlights the complexities of language. It's an important reminder that even within the same language, different regions have their own dialects, unique vocabulary, and expressions. What's understood in one area might be completely different just a few hundred kilometers away. For example, some words used by the AmaMpondo are considered vulgar in other isiXhosa-speaking areas, but for them, they are not. As journalists, we have to be aware of these subtle differences to truly capture the full stories presented to us.

This powerful quote emphasis that journalists have a powerful responsibility to choose their language wisely to ensure all voices are seen and heard.
Photo: Supplied

The message from her comments is very clear and loud, to successfully tell an authentic story, a journalist needs to meet people where they are. A journalist has the responsibility to communicate in a way that makes things easier for them, not for the journalist. This means we must move beyond the idea of a single "universal language" and embrace the beautiful, complex reality of a multilingual South Africa.

Our role as journalists is to give voice to the voiceless and we can only do that if we understand their language. That begins with speaking their language, and I think it’s time for the industry to recognise multilingualism as primary skill, and foundation skill a journalist should poses. It should be integrated into our training, our newsrooms, and into our daily practices.

As a journalism student from Rhodes University, I often find myself reporting and writing articles in English. Well, not because it was a personal choice, but it is what is expected of me and be good at it. For quite some time now English has become a default language in classrooms, community campus-based radio, and in newspapers. Deep down, I have always known that my authentic voice lives in isiXhosa. I have always questioned where the diversity in this is, and if they are based in Makhanda shouldn’t they cater for the people of Makhanda who are Afrikaans, isiXhosa, and minority of English speakers.

Behind these glass displays lie centuries of rich isiXhosa life and wisdom. Yet, at the Albany History Museum, the story felt incomplete, diluted by its monolingual English narrative. It's a stark reminder, our history, culture, and very essence cannot be truly understood or promoted unless we champion the languages that carry them. #AfricanLanguagesMatter #LostInTranslation

Photo: Ntombekhaya Busuku

One day I was given an assignment to cover a march in Makhanda. The atmosphere, the people, the songs and everything around me was in isiXhosa. Yet I was expected to report on what was happening in English, my heart bled while writing the story because at the back of my mind I knew that we were taking away the voices of the people involved in the march. Misrepresenting them, all in the name of using a ‘universal language’ which I think at that point in time was unfair to the people who couldn’t understand the so called ‘universal language.’ The only people who could are the ones who were never part of the march. As a writer who knows and has a firsthand experience of how it feels to be marginalised and silenced, I vowed on that day that I will never in my life strip away the cultural richness and emotional weight that could be fully translated in the original language. It truly felt like it was a diluted version of their story.

These isiXhosa beads speak volumes of healing and heritage, yet their stories were 'lost in translation' at the Albany Museum. True understanding demands decolonizing our narratives – presenting our culture in its authentic language, not just an English 'add-on.' #DecolonizeMuseums #IsiXhosaLives

Photo: Ntombekhaya Busuku

From that moment, I began to reflect and think deep about how much Africans have lost in history because their narrative was told in a language that they couldn’t comprehend and by someone who couldn’t understand what the hell was going on. I thought of how much we are losing and silencing in the present time, in professional and academic spaces just because we are so desperate to fit into a ‘universal box.’ I began to understand that actually we as Africans, we are bigger than the box that they are trying to put us under, I began to write in my own language, and I told myself if they can’t understand they will have to find someone to translate for them because I was simple refusing to be part of the problem. You see, when we are told that our home languages aren’t “academic enough” or “professional enough,” that is not just insulting, it’s a form of erasure.

This powerful 1960 insight from Amazwi Museum demands we recognize African languages not as lesser, but as masterpieces of unparalleled depth and vibrancy. It's time to truly hear them

Photo: Ntombekhaya Busuku

Knowledge is a powerful tool that one can possess, that is why I started advocating for the promotional use of African languages in newspapers, radio, and in university spaces. And if knowledge is power, then we need to ensure that power is available in all our languages, not just English. We deserve to be all represented in newspapers and deserve newspapers that publish in isiZulu, Sesotho, Tshivenda, and others. Not just as translations, but as a primary content, we deserve lectures and readings in our mother tongues. There is power in hearing your language in a news report, in reading your mother tongue in a newspaper, and in knowing that it is not only welcomed but respected.

A timeless truth from the Amazwi South African Museum of Literature, revolutionary journalist Noni Jabavu articulates the heart of authentic storytelling. Her words resonate today, a testament to the enduring power of writing from one's own truth.

Photo: Ntombekhaya Busuku

It’s about time we stop treating African languages as inconvenience, optional, and decorative. They matter, valid, intellectual, and necessary. I am well aware I wrote this post in English; I did that so that my message can reach many people as possible. It is my dream to say all of this in any of African languages in the near future, and still be heard, and respected. Because my language is my voice. And it’s time we all started speaking up.