My related argument is purely focused on the disappearance of the shona language among some or many (cannot quantify) of the “privileged” chete especially in families where kids aged 7 and below barely speak/do not speak any shona. I also agree with your reasons i.e. not speaking shona at home, TV influence etc. but it still goes back to the parents who let the situation continue as is simply because they feel powerless against this cultural evolution or language of instruction/or are lazy/or cannot be bothered/or don’t think it’s a problem. I guess we wait and see where shona will be in the generations to come.

Like i said, i hear you and the pain you must feel for being so judged because of your background but that was not the focus of my response.

KM i agree with you, culture and language make up the large part of identity. In fact my ‘otherness’ made me want to understand why I was ‘other’. The best I can come up with is that it is the privilege that is being criticised, because there is no difference between my understanding and practice of culture and another person who grew up without those privileges. I grew up in a very traditional household, with parents who passed on their language, traditions and cultural practices. That doesn’t mean the effects of privilege don’t show.

Mai, I cannot agree when you say that Shona will disappear among the ‘privileged’. You assertion is based on an assumption of what that privilege and its consequences feel like.

Often, the loss of culture and or language is not a conscious or individual decision. As a society evolves so too must its culture, and as it is exposed to new languages its language too will change. Today, the Shona you speak is different from the Shona your parents grew up speaking, and the Shona their parents spoke. For example my grandmother doesn’t speak Shona, her language is Manyika.

Parents who raise their children to embrace another culture do so because they feel that their culture is inferior. I don’t know any Zimbabwean parents who actually do this. The loss of language and culture is more to do with how everyday life is constructed for in Zimbabwe. Our language of instruction in schools and transacting business is english. When I was at school were were actually punished for speaking in Shona. When your children come home and watch tv, even if it is ZBC, most of that programming will be in English.
If as parents you only spend two to three hours with your children speaking to them, and even then it is mostly in english, where do you expect them to learn to speak shona? At school where they teach government shona for 30 minutes twice to three times a week? and even that shona misses the subtleties of dialects like Zezuru, or Karanga.
The disintergration of the African family as my parent’s generation knew it is another contributor to a loss of culture and tradition. Children are learning about Africanness not from us but from television and music. But other than Tuku, and Macheso how many Zimbabwean artists who use Shona do you listen to? And what about your children, are they not chanting along to Little Wayne and Beyonce? How many television programmes with themes that explore Shona or Ndebele cultures do you take the time to tune into? or are you watching Generations, and Days of our lives?

I lament the fact in years to come, Shona will slowly disappear amongst “the privileged” simply because parents these days uphold a child speaking english in high esteem to the detriment of the shona language. I would also offer reasons such as the fact that parents these days simply are not like their parents and they shouldn’t really because generations evolve in that way. There is nothing wrong with “privileged” kids going to “privileged schools” and doing “privileged things” but my issue is with parents who “privilege” their kids and forget to reinforce speaking the shona language and observing “certain” customs that preserve the fact that we are shona people. So mine is not an issue with you, but with parents who raise kids like you whatever their reasons may be.