Over the past couple of weeks this column has tried to point out how imported values, even when well-intentioned, can distort collective aspirations, and how the pursuit of ‘democracy of form’ undermines our efforts to engage society substantively on the changes that its members would like to see in their lives.

Societies seek change from democracy. This is the reason the discourse around it ultimately brings about issues of development, which is why it is often stated that the two go ‘hand-in-hand.’ For the same reasons, it is often said that the pursuit of one over the other is likely to lead to undesirable consequences for a society.

They must move in tandem. However, the pace of this shift must be a result of an inclusive process that involves the majority of the would-be beneficiaries. All this is underlain by the idea that both democracy and development are about the expression of the values of such beneficiaries.

When this is not done, a tenuous relationship between democracy and development develops and the potential negative consequences vary from social stagnation to outright violence meted out among compatriots.

It is this misguided pursuit of democracy and development – the inability to recognise that it is a struggle about values – that has been at the root of a tenuous social context for much of post-colonial Africa.

This is also why democracy and development have been elusive – they do not speak to the aspirations of the ordinary person. Which leads us to an equally powerful, and emotionally-laden, third force: language.

Language expresses culture. Culture is a set of people’s values and language is how they express those values – their sensibilities: fears, hopes, and dreams. When language and culture are not considered in the discourse on democracy and development, what is left are ideals that are devoid of meaning and are therefore rendered impossible to identify with.

Our cultures and languages must be the vehicle through which we conceive both democracy and development. Moreover, it should be obvious that the pursuit of the kind of either that renders its beneficiaries mute is problematic to say the least, and is likely to suffer stillbirth. More problematic, however, is the idea that we must undermine our values and people in order to access the ‘virtues of a higher civilisation.’

This is the story of post-colonial Africa. Indeed, raising such issues was often treated as subversive activity. That is because language policy is always a sensitive matter, and a possible career-killer for policy makers. As such, it has been treated as a hot potato – left alone to cool on its own.

But that is only a tactical, not strategic, move. The fact that values in general, and language in particular, undergird democracy and development isn’t going to change, ever. Crucially, change that minimises the negative consequences thereof will not happen on its own.

The Irony of Rwanda

And so, the policy makers have had to dither. Which is why the most generous characterisation of our language policy over the years is that it has been inconsistent. There’s been so much switching from French to English to French and back to English that parents, teachers, and students get surprised when they complete their academic cycle without any pronouncement of another policy change.

Consequently, the joke in the town is that Rwandans neither know French nor English, the two major foreign languages. In fact, the Ministry of Education has often been maligned for this confusion, er, inconsistency.

My view is that this has been a blessing in disguise. That we neither possess command for English nor for French has forced us to resort to our native language, ikinyarwanda – the one we comprehend most, the one in which we are able to comfortably convey our sensibilities and aspirations.

Most importantly, the resort to our native language has had a lot to do with why our country has prospered.

Unwittingly, the language of development and democracy has taken on a national character, and has helped to create a sense of national purpose along common aspirations.

Which then begs the questions: Shouldn’t this be how we conceive progress? With some serendipity, we seem to have discovered what works. But shall we stay the course? Or shall we eventually return to the tested – and failed – path of being uncritical recipients of antidotes to misdiagnosed problems?

Let me end with two thoughts. They are rebuttals to the potential counterargument that what I am advocating for undermines our competitiveness in a ‘global village.’

I turn to Edwin Mukizawabo, on Twitter, as my lead counsel: @mukizaedwin "The Turkiya constructing our symbol of hospitality the Kigali conventional center barely speak English. I wonder why they got the

contract.”@mukizaedwin "So the Cuban/Chinese/Russian doctors who can’t speak English or French can’t compete on the international arena?”