Who Decided Our African Languages Were Too Vulgar For Sex Education?

And the common misconception is that using the correct terminology, no matter the language, would encourage children to participate in sexual activities.

I can say the words vagina and penis a thousand times over, and not a single part of my body would tense up. But if I am asked to say both these words in my native language, my tongue would have a stroke. Are you the same?

Growing up, we were religiously told that using the native words to name our “private parts” was too crude or vulgar. Instead, our parents and guardians invented words to help us understand when they were talking about our vaginas. In cases where they couldn’t bring themselves to use words, pointing was the answer.

Who decided that our African languages were too vulgar for sex education?

I am a woman in her thirties who feels heat travel through her body when she hears words related to sex and sexuality being said in her home language. It is incredibly uncomfortable when it shouldn’t be. Relating to our languages as vulgar is one of the contributing factors to poor sex education in the home. I remember children being beaten for saying words like vagina and penis back in the day. Girls were told they were too forward and would wind up turning into whores if they continued to use such “language”. It was this kind of fear and trauma that meant that they would keep quiet if someone touched them inappropriately. If we continue to condition children to be afraid of naming their body parts, we are also preparing them for failure.

I have seen books in native languages that will name every body part except for the vagina, penis, boobs, and buttocks. And the common misconception is that using the correct terminology, no matter the language, would encourage children to participate in sexual activities. Untrue. Children will participate in sexual activities regardless, especially in this day and age where sex is in their cartoons, movies, and on social media. Society is currently a sexual billboard. The historical blueprint didn’t work before we landed in this era. Why do we keep recycling it?

I argue that teaching children about their body parts using the correct terms equips them with the language they need to explain uncomfortable situations. Instead of calling sex “doing the mabhebhe”, tell them what it is called in English and in your native language. Tell them what it looks like and why it should not happen. Explain to them that sex doesn’t start with a person touching their boobs or their bum bum, but it starts with hands lingering on their shoulders or the small of their back. It starts with them being asked to sit on laps, and their thighs being stroked. Tell them that an abuser, man or woman, will call it a game when it is not. Stop telling them that babies come from the grocery store when they are a result of sex. A child who is educated and confident enough to speak about any subject is safer than a child who lives in fear.

The discomfort in using our native languages in sex education is because of how descriptive our words are. For some reason, we have taken that to be shameful, when in reality it is the biggest gift life has given us. If anything, it makes educating children even easier. After years of being told that our languages are vulgar, it will take intentionality to work our way back to finding comfort in using them, and we owe it to ourselves to try. We, as the adults, have a lot of relearning and mind reframing to do.

We were failed. It is our turn to end the cycle. Raise girls who not only know what sexual abuse looks like but also know their bodies. The past ends with us and the future begins with us.

With an oversharing heart,

Nobuhle

P.S. The story was originally posted to my newsletter, Young & Oversharing.