Why our school language policy still doesn’t match our reality, more than 30 years into democracy

From Grade 1 to Grade 12, I learnt Afrikaans as my compulsory second language. When I matriculated in 2004, I had completed over a decade of formal study in the subject. Now, in 2025, Afrikaans plays almost no role in my personal or professional life. This is not simply a matter of a skill lying dormant; it represents a profound opportunity cost. Over twelve years, I invested more than 1,500 classroom hours (not counting homework, assignments, and exam preparation) into learning a language I have barely used in the 20 years since leaving school. Those hours could have been dedicated to a language that would enrich my daily interactions, enhance my professional relationships, and even broaden my horizons when travelling abroad.

The numbers tell their own story

South Africa’s linguistic profile makes the mismatch even starker. According to the 2022 Census, isiZulu is spoken at home by 24.4% of the population, and isiXhosa by a further 16.3%. Together, these two languages account for 40.7% of the country – approximately 25 million people. English, while dominant in education, is the home language for just 8.7% of South Africans. Afrikaans, spoken at home by 10.6%, remains the most common First Additional Language (FAL) offered in schools. This is despite the reality that for many learners, African languages would be far more useful for day-to-day communication, professional engagement, and cultural connection.

The true size of the opportunity cost

Language acquisition is an investment, and in South African schools it is a long-term one. In most timetables, the FAL is taught for roughly three hours per week over a 40-week school year. That equates to around 120 hours per year, or approximately 1,440 classroom hours over twelve years (rounded to ±1,500 hours for simplicity). This figure excludes homework and exam preparation, which would bring the total significantly higher.

In practical terms, 1,500 hours is enough to achieve conversational fluency in isiZulu or isiXhosa, even for learners with no prior exposure. It is also sufficient to gain a working command of a global language such as French, Spanish, or Portuguese – skills that would not only open doors locally but also enhance international mobility and employability. Instead, our system produces millions of learners with basic Afrikaans literacy that they seldom use, while leaving them unable to communicate in the languages they are most likely to encounter in everyday life.

The missed opportunities (nationally and globally)

The loss is not only theoretical; it has practical consequences for how we live and work. At a national level, the ability to speak an African language, even at a conversational level, can transform relationships and interactions. A simple greeting or expression of thanks in isiZulu or isiXhosa builds trust, breaks down barriers, and signals respect in ways that English alone often cannot. In the workplace, multilingual leaders are better equipped to connect with diverse teams, engage stakeholders, and navigate complex social dynamics. For those in frontline services (healthcare, policing, education), the ability to communicate directly with communities in their own language is not just an advantage; it is a necessity for effective service delivery.

On a global scale, language remains one of the most valuable currencies when travelling or working across borders. Yet Afrikaans has almost no reach outside Southern Africa. By contrast, the cognitive and cultural benefits of learning an additional African language often make it easier to acquire further languages in the future. Multilingualism fosters adaptability, cross-cultural understanding, and a broader worldview – all qualities that are increasingly critical in a globalised economy.

Why Afrikaans still dominates

The persistence of Afrikaans as the default FAL is not the result of a deliberate assessment of current needs; it is the product of historical inertia. Under apartheid, many public schools (particularly former Model C and private schools) were structured around English and Afrikaans bilingualism. Infrastructure, teaching resources, and teacher training were built to sustain this model. Decades later, these systems remain in place, and they shape timetables, examination processes, and curriculum planning. The supply of qualified Afrikaans teachers remains strong, and high-quality learning materials are readily available, while African languages often lack comparable resources in many regions. In some communities, parental perceptions of Afrikaans as “useful” for certain careers further reinforce the status quo.

More than 30 years into democracy, these structures have barely shifted, and the result is a curriculum that reflects the linguistic priorities of the past rather than the realities of the present.

What could change

Reform does not mean abandoning Afrikaans; it means offering genuine choice and aligning language education with the linguistic realities of each province. In Gauteng, Mpumalanga, and KwaZulu-Natal, isiZulu should be widely available as an FAL. In the Eastern and Western Cape, isiXhosa should have the same status. Afrikaans should remain an option, but as one among several, not the only alternative. This would require investment in teacher training, curriculum development, and high-quality teaching materials for African languages to ensure they are as well supported as Afrikaans has been for decades.

A question for the future

I cannot recover the 1,500 hours I spent learning Afrikaans, but I can reflect on what that investment has cost, not just me, but generations of South Africans. If we continue on this path, we are doing our kids an injustice: limiting their ability to connect meaningfully with the people around them, to navigate their own country with confidence, and to compete in a multilingual world.

We are more than 30 years into democracy. It is time for our language policy to reflect the South Africa we live in today, not the one we inherited.