Home is where language lives
By Phenyo Mokgothu
In many South African homes the familiar sounds of indigenous languages are growing fainter, replaced by English or Afrikaans, languages seen as keys to success. Well-meaning parents, shaped by debunked theories, fear that speaking their home language might confuse their children or hinder academic performance. But research and reality tell a different story: using native languages at home is not a hindrance, but a powerful tool for preserving identity, culture and cognitive strength.
One of the most persistent misconceptions is that bilingualism causes speech delays. Yet studies in linguistics and cognitive development have long discredited this. Children can thrive with two languages, and home becomes the safest place to nurture the tongue society may sideline. If a child stops speaking their mother tongue before age 12, they can lose it entirely, not just in speech, but in understanding. Language erosion is real, and by the time the child tries to reclaim it, it may be like learning from scratch.
This is not just a personal loss, it is a cultural one. A language lost in the home is a story that stops being told.
In cities and multicultural schools, children inevitably grow up alongside peers from different linguistic backgrounds. English often emerges as a neutral bridge, a practical, unifying choice in diverse settings. But while English may connect them to the world, their mother tongue connects them to who they are. There is no contradiction in mastering both. Children are not confused by multilingualism, they are empowered by it. Denying them fluency in their home language robs them of roots in favour of mere reach.
Yet the tide is turning. The Department of Basic Education’s introduction of mother tongue-based bilingual education (MTbBE) beyond Grade 3, starting in 2025, signals a growing awareness of the value of home languages.
But the school alone cannot carry the burden of preservation; parents are key. Speaking isiXhosa, Sesotho, Setswana or Tshivenda at home reinforces what school alone cannot teach: language as lived experience.
If Afrikaans can do it, why not other languages too?
Afrikaans, often politically charged, offers an unexpected lesson. Once a dialect of Dutch spoken by colonists and slaves, it has been deliberately developed into a fully fledged language used in universities, the courts, science and the arts. Its success proves that language development is not accidental; it is a choice, backed by consistent use, policy support and cultural pride. If Afrikaans could rise to academic stature, why not indigenous languages?
There are growing efforts by researchers, technologists and media organisations to digitise indigenous languages. Apps, speech databases and online dictionaries are being created to keep these languages relevant in the digital age. But these tools are only as strong as the speakers behind them. If future generations cannot read, write or speak these languages fluently, digitisation becomes a hollow exercise.
Preserving language begins at home, not with formal lessons but with everyday conversation, lullabies, jokes, and prayers. The home must become the first classroom of cultural inheritance. Because when we stop speaking our languages at home, we do not just lose words. We lose worlds.
This responsibility does not fall on linguists or policymakers alone. Every family that chooses to speak their language at the dinner table or in moments of discipline is performing an act of cultural continuity. Languages endure not only in textbooks, but also in homes, greetings, whispered goodnights, and the everyday moments that shape identity.
About the author
Phenyo Mokgothu is a postgraduate student at the Indigenous Language Media in Africa Research entity at North-West University.

