In a world where colonial legacies continue to dictate the frameworks of knowledge, the ways we measure literacy in South Africa’s Early Childhood Development (ECD) sector remain tainted by the very structures that once sought to subjugate us. These Western-centric, Eurocentric literacy metrics are not simply inadequate—they are complicit in perpetuating historical injustices. By measuring children’s development against a foreign yardstick, we are not just failing to understand their cognitive and linguistic capacities; we are imposing epistemic violence that denies them the fullness of their humanity. The radical task before us is not merely to reform these metrics, but to dismantle and replace them entirely, with systems of measurement grounded in indigenous knowledge, cultural practices, and the lived experiences of South African communities.
The Colonial Roots of Literacy Metrics
Literacy, in its current form, is rooted in the Western colonial project. The standard methods of assessment—based on written, text-based, and language-oriented tests—were never designed to evaluate the intellectual capacities of African children. These metrics have been imposed on us as a tool of domination, a way to evaluate African ways of thinking and learning against a norm that is fundamentally alien. Western-style literacy emphasizes reading and writing in specific languages, often at the expense of oral traditions, visual communication, and non-textual forms of knowledge—all of which are central to African ways of learning.
The logic behind these Western metrics is not innocent; it is part of a colonial project that seeks to standardize and regulate how knowledge is produced, transmitted, and evaluated. From the earliest days of colonialism, the education system was weaponized to “civilize” and “discipline” indigenous populations. The imposition of English and Afrikaans as the languages of instruction—at the expense of indigenous languages—was a deliberate attempt to sever African children from their roots, forcing them into a linguistic and cultural straitjacket.
Today, the legacy of this imposition continues. South African literacy assessments, like the Early Grade Reading Assessment (EGRA), rely on standardized, one-size-fits-all frameworks that privilege English and Afrikaans, languages spoken by a small elite. But for the vast majority of South African children, particularly those in rural areas, these assessments are an act of violence. A child raised speaking isiZulu, isiXhosa, or Sesotho is told that their first language—the language of their community, their elders, their heritage—is not a legitimate form of knowledge.
The brutal truth is that these metrics are designed to fail the majority of South African children. They are not the neutral, objective tools they pretend to be. They are instruments of cultural imperialism.
The Radical Need to Decolonize Literacy
The urgent task before us is to not merely critique these metrics, but to shatter their very foundation. Decolonizing literacy means radically rethinking what it means to be literate. It is to reject the assumption that literacy begins and ends with the ability to decode written words in a colonial language. Literacy is not just about reading books—it is about understanding the world around you, engaging with the people in your community, and navigating a complex, multi-lingual, and multi-cultural environment.
1. Rejecting the Western Knowledge Canon
The first step in decolonizing literacy is to reject the Western knowledge canon that underpins these metrics. The Western emphasis on written text, standardized testing, and individual learning ignores the richness of oral traditions, communal learning, and the profound knowledge embedded in African languages and cultural practices. A child in a rural village who learns through storytelling, who acquires knowledge through interaction with elders, or who communicates through song, dance, and ritual is not illiterate—they are engaged in a different, but equally valid, form of literacy.
The European tradition of writing—of recording knowledge on paper, in books, and through formal education systems—is only one method of transmitting knowledge. It is not universal, and it should not be the sole measure of a child’s intellectual worth. A child’s ability to recount a traditional tale, to memorize an oral history, or to engage with their environment through indigenous ecological knowledge is no less valuable than a child’s ability to read a textbook in English.
2. Centering African Knowledge Systems
To truly decolonize literacy, we must center African knowledge systems in the classroom. Indigenous languages must not be treated as obstacles to literacy—they must be recognized as the bedrock of intellectual engagement. We need to recognize that language is not just a medium of instruction; it is a form of cognition. The way a child speaks, thinks, and processes information is shaped by the language they use. Western-centric metrics, by privileging English, distort this reality and deny African children the full scope of their intellectual capabilities.
A radical model of literacy in South Africa would prioritize mother-tongue instruction in the early years of schooling, allowing children to develop cognitive skills in a language they understand. This is not just a pedagogical preference—it is a political act of decolonization. By teaching in indigenous languages, we are affirming the richness of our cultures and asserting the value of our linguistic heritage.
3. Embracing Multilingualism and Multimodality
In South Africa, multilingualism is not the exception—it is the norm. Children often grow up speaking multiple languages, navigating a rich tapestry of linguistic and cultural contexts. Yet, current literacy metrics often fail to account for this reality. Children who can communicate fluently in multiple languages are penalized for not conforming to a monolingual, English-dominant system.
We must embrace multilingualism and multimodality as the foundation of literacy. Literacy should not be measured solely by a child’s ability to read a book in English. It should encompass the full spectrum of a child’s linguistic and communicative abilities. This includes oral storytelling, visual literacy, emotional intelligence, and the capacity to navigate different forms of cultural expression. These forms of literacy—whether communicated through song, dance, drama, or ritual—are just as critical to a child’s cognitive and emotional development as the ability to decode written text.
The Imbewu program in KwaZulu-Natal, for example, demonstrates how multilingual and multimodal approaches can transform early childhood education. By incorporating indigenous languages and storytelling into the curriculum, the program encourages children to engage with literacy in ways that are culturally relevant and meaningful. It is an example of how decolonizing literacy can lead to more inclusive, holistic educational outcomes.
4. Rethinking Assessment and Knowledge Production
To decolonize literacy, we must fundamentally rethink how we assess children’s knowledge. The current reliance on standardized testing and rigid metrics reflects a colonial mindset—one that prioritizes conformity and uniformity over creativity, innovation, and the diverse forms of intelligence found within our communities. Decolonizing literacy requires that we move away from rigid, one-size-fits-all assessments and embrace a more flexible, context-driven approach to evaluation.
This means creating assessment tools that value indigenous forms of knowledge, that recognize the importance of oral communication, and that allow for the expression of literacy in multiple languages and modalities. These tools should not be imposed from above but co-created with local communities, educators, and children themselves.
The Public vs. Private Divide: A Class Struggle
The divide between the public and private education sectors in South Africa exposes the deep class inequalities that continue to plague our society. The private sector, with its access to resources and smaller class sizes, often provides a more favourable environment for children to develop literacy in the Western sense. However, this model is exclusionary and entrenched in privilege. Private schools are more likely to prioritize English-language proficiency and standardized Western metrics, while the majority of South African children—particularly those in the public sector—are left behind.
The solution is not to replicate the private sector’s colonial framework in the public sector. Rather, we must radically transform the public education system to embrace a decolonized, community-driven approach to literacy. This means prioritizing Indigenous languages, involving communities in curriculum development, and using assessments that reflect the diverse realities of South Africa’s children.
Conclusion: A Radical Vision for the Future
Decolonizing literacy is not a reformist project—it is a revolutionary act. It is about breaking free from the colonial knowledge canon that continues to govern how we understand and measure children’s intelligence. It is about rejecting the imperialistic standards that exclude indigenous ways of knowing and doing.
By embracing African languages, knowledge systems, and modes of expression, we can build a literacy framework that reflects the full humanity of South Africa’s children. This is not just a matter of educational policy—it is a matter of cultural survival and political liberation. The radical decolonization of literacy is the first step in dismantling the colonial systems that have long oppressed us. The question is no longer whether we will decolonize literacy—but whether we will allow the children of this land to thrive in the fullness of their intellectual and cultural potential. The time to act is now.