By Hiwot Alemayehu
Colonialism is often seen as the defining historical event that has shaped the global perception of Africa. But in examining this, a critical question arises: Who has told—and continues to tell—the story of Africa? And how has this narrative influenced the continent’s development?
For centuries, the dominant narrative about Africa was crafted by missionaries, explorers, and slave traders. It portrayed Africa as a land without history before colonization, a place where no advanced civilizations had existed, and where its people had contributed little to human progress. Unfortunately, this view continues to be perpetuated today, echoed in mainstream media, civil society groups, and even government institutions. Despite the continent’s efforts to break free from this damaging myth, it still grapples with its enduring legacy. Additionally, some groups—both within and outside Africa—have a vested interest in preserving this narrative.
One of the most lasting remnants of this colonial framework is evident in how we refer to Africa linguistically: “English-speaking,” “French-speaking,” and “Portuguese-speaking” Africa. These terms reflect a deep-rooted legacy that links language to colonial power. The choice of language, in fact, goes to the core of how people define themselves in relation to their environment and the world around them.
Historically, colonial powers viewed language as more than just a tool for communication. It was a means of “spiritual subjugation” and a vehicle for power and administration. This dynamic still shapes how European languages dominate over African ones, reinforcing power imbalances. In the broader conversation about decolonization, addressing language is crucial—because when we speak of decolonizing language, we are really talking about shifting the power.
However, the question of how to decolonize language remains contentious among African elites. There are differing views on the role of European languages on the continent. Celebrated Nigerian author Chinua Achebe once said:
“I feel that the English language will be able to carry the weight of my African experience. But, it will have to be a new English, still in full communion with its ancestral home but altered to suit new African surroundings.”
Achebe’s view recognizes the possibility of adapting colonial languages to reflect African realities. But others argue that native African languages, particularly in written form, must be prioritized and translated into other languages when necessary. For them, language is more than just a communication tool; it is “the collective memory of a people’s experience,” an “image-forming agent in the mind of a child,” and it mediates our very being.
So what does this mean for consultants and professionals working in development and civil society? We operate at the intersection of various cultures, perspectives, and languages, making us uniquely positioned to rethink power dynamics in this area. As we work within communities, we must acknowledge that language has a dual character: it is both a means of communication and a carrier of culture. Ignoring this can lead to cultural alienation and dissociation from local environments—something that could severely hinder development efforts across the continent.
Decolonizing language is about more than just words—it is about creating equitable partnerships between different worlds and perspectives. This requires us to rethink the terms we use and the narratives we uphold. Take, for example, the term “Sub-Saharan Africa.” This phrase has been used widely, but it is a colonial construct that overlooks the diverse histories, cultures, and economic realities of the region. Reframing how we speak about Africa’s people and places is essential to addressing historical power imbalances.
Ultimately, decolonizing language calls for a comprehensive approach that values African languages, cultures, and landscapes. By doing so, we shift the power dynamic and move toward a more equitable and inclusive future for the continent.