At a small school in the commune of Kloukname, in southwestern Benin, near the border with Togo, the daily routine is marked by a unique celebration: the teaching of the Adja language, of the Aja people. The school is the Saint Salomon learning center, established in 2014. The school is an exception in a country where French, a colonial legacy, is the official language and a prerequisite for universities and jobs, but is spoken by only 35% of the population.
Benin has over 70 national languages, a diversity that remains marginalized by the formal education system. In this context, Saint Salomon’s initiative emerges as an act of resistance. “Language is culture. You can’t be traditional in a destroyed language. Everything we do, we do in our language, and that’s how it’s done,” says student Ninivi, summarizing the project’s mission.
Student Kohoke emphasizes the practical importance of learning one’s native language: “It’s better to speak one’s native language than to speak a language that doesn’t belong to us.” She points out a common problem: “If you’re in a place with people speaking your native language and you don’t understand, that’s a bummer. Because in our schools, we only learn French, only French.”
The weight of history
The fight to preserve the Aja is closely linked to colonial history. The Aja people are considered the mother culture of the ancient Kingdom of Dahomey, a powerful West African state that existed from 1600 until 1894, when it was invaded and transformed into a colony by France. French colonial expansion in the region was accompanied by an aggressive policy of erasing local identities, a legacy that endures.
Bilingual method
Spoken by approximately 1.3 million people in West Africa, Adja belongs to the Gbe language group, along with Ewe and Fon. At Saint Salomon, which serves 85 children between the ages of 6 and 13, teacher Alain Mathias employs a bilingual model, using games and dividing the content of the board between French and Adja.
“After fifth grade, the children have to go to school, where only French is spoken. So, here, I mix the two languages to allow the children to understand what’s really going on,” explains the teacher. His method is practical: “If a child says ‘bonjour’ (good morning in French), I make the hand gesture and express myself in Adja to greet them. And the things I show on the board, I also automatically translate.”
In addition to teaching, schools play a crucial role in teaching literacy in their native language to children who didn’t have the opportunity to learn it at home. “You can speak it at home with your parents if you’re lucky. But if you didn’t stay at home with your parents, speaking your native language is a bit difficult,” says Kohoke.
A call for change
Principal Davito Roger calls for a radical change in educational policy by President Patrice Talon’s government, demanding the inclusion of mother tongue teaching in primary schools across the country.
“It’s a form of domination. They know very well that language is indispensable. Countries that have developed, developed in their own language. Therefore, if someone can’t speak their own language, they’re lost,” argues Roger. “If the state wanted to set a good example, it should start by helping us here, follow our example, and replicate it throughout the country. They know this, but they don’t want to.”
As the national debate continues, the small Saint Salomon school continues its mission, one step at a time, ensuring that the language and culture of the Aja people live on in the voices and futures of its children.
