The subtle multilingual interactions in a village in Senegal are strikingly beautiful
At the confluence of two rivers lies Agnack Grand in Casamance, Senegal. A small village in a much maligned and under-represented country, it is introduced to us in shades of sun-dappled green and terracotta, a region of rivers and wetlands, and extraordinary cultural diversity. The documentary film Kanraxël – The Confluence of Agnack has a simple premise: it follows the village as they prepare for a ceremony celebrating the life of the village’s late leader. As it weaves between everyday life and the preparations for this one-off event, its message becomes clear – these interactions are a beautiful example of true linguistic diversity.
As a country, Senegal’s colonialist history remains present in its official language of French, but its lingua franca is Wolof, spoken widely across the nation. Although previously the country’s linguistic map may have coincided with its natural regions, the actual distribution of languages in modern-day Senegal no longer corresponds to these geographical confines. Population migration in all directions and the resulting human interactions have, for the most part, eradicated traditional linguistic boundaries, and, with them, the correlation between a person’s avowed ethnic affiliation and their mother tongue. Thus, even on a minute level, all languages are spoken throughout the territory of Senegal, although the percentage of speakers of the respective languages varies according to geographic region.
From the film’s early scenes, children are shown switching effortlessly from bickering in Baïnounk Gujaher to learning in French and conversing with their elders in Wolof. Within the village up to 15 languages are spoken, including Portuguese-based Creole, French, Gujaher, Mandinka, Wolof, Jóola and Pulaar, as well as a linguistic complex within these languages comprising two or more ethnic subgroups with specific regional dialects and characteristics. As it goes on, their interplay is deftly captured: African news on French radio marries with heated discussions in Gujaher, and is interspersed by popular songs in Wolof. The film-maker’s research and snazziness seems to be put aside, as the film almost exclusively follows the villagers, and, as such, the result is an extremely natural story; a snapshot, that forms an invitation into the village. There is a stark intimacy throughout the documentary as we watch the characters prepare for the personal milestone of one of the villagers.
As well as its central story, the film also allows us the privilege of a rare view into the rapidly changing Bainounk culture. The history of the Baïnounk is turbulent, their existence threatened particularly following the civil war when many left the region. As a people, they now exist almost exclusively in Senegal, having had much of their cultural traditions absorbed into alternative cultural groups. Incidentally, the film’s first language version was in Baïnounk, which is a beautiful homage to the people that it has portrayed.
As ‘uneducated’ villagers in ‘problem and poverty-stricken’ Africa, Kanraxëlis a hugely refreshing challenge to the way that news from Africa is usually exhibited in popular media. With a striking lack of fanfare, it exhibits what in the west is considered a symbol of cultural and societal progression – linguistic diversity – but does so in an entirely natural and understated fashion.
The documentary inadvertently raises another salient point – what should be defined as the official language used for example in schools in Senegal, a country still defined by a colonialist language despite no proliferation of French among individuals? Up until recently, the government defined six official languages, based on the degree to which they are vernacular, in order of prevalence: Wolof, Pulaar, Sereer, Jóola, Mandinka and Soninke. Each language is broken down into subgroups: Wolof comprises, along with its regional dialects, a subgroup of fishermen living in the Cap-Vert area known as Lébous, whose language is an archaic form of Wolof; Pulaar is spoken by the Toucouleur or Foutanke in northern Senegal; the Sereer language cluster is spoken in the Thiès region; Jóola, which is mainly spoken in Casamance, is a cluster comprising several languages and dialects, the most commonly known of which are Fogny and Kasa. The latter region also contains other, often internally heterogeneous, linguistic groups, for instance Baïnounk, Manjak and Balanta, whreas Bassari, Koniagi, Jalonke and Diakhanke are spoken in Eastern Senegal.
Therefore, the argument is not a simple one, but Senegal’s growing dissociation from its past has exposed something of a paradox and opened the issue up to much debate. On the surface, Chouette Films have created in Kanraxël the kind of gentle film which is aesthetically glorious, but in probing the complexities around language subtly offers a significantly deeper underlying message. If nothing else, however, it is the kind of film from which we, as a self-purported progressive and multicultural society, could learn a great deal.
The film Kanraxël will be screened at SOAS University, London, on 8 March 2016. You can register for the event here (free entry). It is the winner of Best Documentary by Research at the AHRC Research in Film Awards, at the British Film Institute, London. It was also officially selected for the 11th Al Jazeera International Documentary Film Festival in 2015, among other awards.
Photo Credit: Chouette Films