In a significant move to honor the historical legacy and contributions of marginalized groups, a new inscription in the lxam language has been etched into the façade of Rhodes House at Oxford University. This endeavor acknowledges the tribulations and relentless labor of those whose hardships ultimately contributed to Cecil Rhodes’ immense wealth.
The lxam inscription was skillfully crafted by Fergus Wessel, a stone mason hailing from the UK, whose work is steeped in the traditions of the English Arts and Crafts movement. This particular inscription does more than merely adorn a building; it serves as a poignant reminder of the arduous toil endured by the southern African peoples, whose labor laid the groundwork for the fortunes accumulated by Rhodes. It offers a layer of depth to the historical narrative—a narrative often oversimplified or overlooked entirely.
Interestingly, lxam stands as what linguists refer to as a “sleeping language.” This term implies that the language has lost its status as a primary tongue, no longer spoken in everyday life by any community. Once thriving until the early 20th century among the descendants of the Khoesan peoples and Afrikaners in the Northern Cape, lxam carries with it echoes of a rich cultural heritage, now faded into silence.
Historically, lxam was documented in the late 1800s by prominent linguists Wilhelm Bleek and Lucy Lloyd. Their project, aimed at preserving the language and stories of its speakers, took place in Cape Town, where several lxam individuals found themselves imprisoned at the notorious Breakwater prison. This site, rife with its own convoluted history, symbolizes not just colonial oppression but also ignites a discussion on language preservation and the right to reclaim one’s heritage.
Why does a language, once vibrant, fall into dormancy? Many factors contribute; colonization, cultural erasure, and socio-economic pressures often forge pathways to what can feel like irrevocable loss. Yet, the resurgence of interest in lxam—spurred by initiatives such as this inscription—invites us to ask: can a revival be kindled from the ashes of the past? Perhaps this act serves as a beacon of hope, shedding light on the importance of acknowledging those who came before us and the narratives that have shaped our society.
One cannot ignore the emotional weight carried by such acts of recognition. The inscription, despite appearing as just a momentary glance of artistry, possesses the power to communicate profound stories of sacrifice and resilience. In a way, it whispers to us from the walls of Rhodes House, urging contemplation and reflection. It becomes a testament not solely to the people whose labor brought about wealth but also to all those who remain unseen and unheard throughout history.
To illustrate the critical need for narrative reclamation, let’s consider the words of anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss, who once remarked, “The scientist is not a person who gives the right answers, he’s one who asks the right questions.” In the case of lxam, the questions are numerous and complex. What stories lie untold in the echoes of a forgotten language? What potentials linger silently in the communities affected by colonialism? And how can we, as a global society, begin to weave those threads back into the fabric of our collective consciousness?
This inscription also acts as a bridge between the past and the present. It invites engagement from contemporary viewers, asking them to remember and honor those who have historically been relegated to the background. It elevates lxam from the shadows, beckoning scholars, students, and the global community alike to delve deeper into the layers of history that have influenced today’s societal structures.
In conclusion, the lxam inscription at Rhodes House emerges not merely as a historical footnote but rather as a critical dialogue on the complexities of heritage, identity, and the need for reparative justice. As we witness this act of remembrance, we are compelled to reflect on our responsibilities: What can we learn from the past? How can this understanding inform our present actions to foster inclusivity and restoration in our societies?
In seeking answers, let us engage with lxam’s silent stories—not as relics to be put on display, but as living legacies urging us toward empathy and a broader understanding of our shared narrative.
Edited By Ali Musa
Axadle Times International – Monitoring
