When people ask me how International Mother Language Day should be observed, I now have an answer: come to Langa.
This year, the Ibuyambo Book Festival happened on the same weekend as International Mother Language Day, and without overplanning it, we found ourselves embodying exactly what the day calls us to do. Imagine walking into a festival space anchored by a banner acknowledging iziduko — our clan names — boldly and unapologetically. Before a single word is spoken, you are reminded: you come from somewhere. Your language carries lineage.
Now imagine that gathering happening in kwaLanga — the oldest township in Cape Town— a place rich with history, memory, struggle, and culture. And imagine it being hosted by young people from the UCT isiXhosa Society, young stewards of isiXhosa and culture, who understand that preserving language is not nostalgic work — it is urgent work.
You could not script it better.
To have Ndibhala Intando Yam at Ibuyambo Book Festival — ikhaya of Indigenous languages — was something else. Reflecting on Steve Biko and the enduring relevance of I Write What I Like in kwaLanga felt less like a session and more like a homecoming. One resident even asked us afterwards why we did not take Nkosinathi Biko around kwaLanga with drum majorettes, because “these things don’t happen here.” And that comment has stayed with me.
Because he was right.
There are still people in our communities who do not know what a book festival is. And that is both an indictment and a confirmation. An indictment of how far removed literary spaces have been from township life. And a confirmation that this work is necessary.
We cannot speak about International Mother Language Day without confronting the 2% publishing statistic — the painful reality that such a small percentage of books published in South Africa are in Indigenous languages. Changing that statistic will not happen through slogans. It will happen through habit-changing movements. Through showing up repeatedly. Through making Indigenous languages visible, audible, and economically viable.
At Ibuyambo, under one roof, we had Nal’ibali, Mikhulu Trust, The Bookery, Otto Foundation, and Biblionef — organisations actively fighting the 80% reading-without-comprehension crisis. It was a beautiful sight. Not competition. Collaboration. A shared understanding that literacy in a language a child understands is not a luxury; it is foundational.
Advocating for Indigenous languages is slow work. It requires patience, repetition, and resilience. It requires knocking on doors in kwaLanga long before the festival weekend. It requires explaining what a book festival is, why it matters, and why it belongs in the community. The work to bring the community into the festival is often quieter than the panels themselves — but it is just as important.
What carried us through was the collective voice we heard on both Friday and Saturday: This is needed. Again and again. From elders. From young people. From parents. That affirmation became fuel for weary bones.
International Mother Language Day is not just about celebrating language in theory. It is about creating spaces where Indigenous languages are centred without translation anxiety. Where children hear stories in the language of their grandparents. Where intellectual thought in isiXhosa is not treated as secondary. Where communities see themselves reflected in literary spaces.
At Ibuyambo in kwaLanga, that is what we tried to do.
And if we are serious about language justice, about changing the 2%publishing statistic, about confronting the 80% reading crisis, then gatherings like this cannot be rare occurrences that require drum majorettes to announce them. They must become normal. Expected. Rooted.
Because Indigenous languages are not only good for speaking ‘with each other.’ They are good for thinking. For writing. For publishing. For imagining futures.
And perhaps that is what International Mother Language Day truly asks of us: not only to celebrate our languages — but to build systems where they can live fully.
Written by Pumla Makeleni, Founder, Ibuyambo Book Festival
26 February 2026
