It's not you, it's the system.
I had a conversation with my sister last night, hence this article.
I write novels in Setswana, a Southern African language. I also do editing and literary translation from English to Setswana. I wasn't always writing in my mother tongue. My work as a journalist and my first book, a short biography of Sol Plaatje, was in English. However, it's my work in Setswana that won for me almost every prize that's awarded for African language literature in South Africa.
It's the same work that took me across the Atlantic and Indian Oceans to the lands my ancestors only dreamed of and earned me writing residencies. It's the same work that has been taught at some universities for over a decade and has now made it to postgraduate studies. It's the same work that has paid many bills in our household. However, I have family members and friends who cannot read my novels because they cannot read our language.
Do I blame them? NO. It's not them. It's the system.
We all know what I mean by "the system." I was fortunate to have lived in the village of Matsheng in Taung, North West, South Africa, from the age of one to seventeen. Almost everyone in the village spoke the same language and lived according to Setswana culture and customs. When I came to read about proverbs and idioms in school, I had already known them from the community that brought me up. I did not only read about "letsema" and "mafisa" as concepts in textbooks. I saw these important practices sustain my community in Matsheng village.