The recent directive by the Education Minister to make the use of mother tongues mandatory in Ghanaian schools has reignited a long-standing debate about language and education. While promoting local languages is important for cultural preservation, enforcing them as the medium of instruction across schools in Ghana is a flawed idea that risks setting our education system back rather than moving it forward.
From my experience since arriving abroad, I have witnessed firsthand how a strong comprehension of English shapes one’s academic and professional success. I’ve seen brilliant international students—intelligent, hardworking, and innovative—struggle to find jobs or communicate effectively simply because they were not fluent in English.
It wasn’t that they lacked ability; it was that the global world speaks a different linguistic currency: English. Some patriots will argue that teaching a child English over their mother tongue leads to a loss of cultural identity. But my question is this: why do you want to master a language that will not put food on your table? Why should we prioritize a language that limits opportunities instead of one that opens doors globally? Why would any parent want their child to appear deficient when they speak with other children or interact beyond their local environment?
And let’s be honest, we shouldn’t make children believe that mastering their mother tongue is somehow better than mastering English. I’ve heard people argue along those lines, and it’s simply not true. English is not just another subject; it is the key to communication, opportunity, and participation in a globalized world. Encouraging children to see English as inferior or “less patriotic” is misleading and harmful to their future. Patriotism should not mean limiting one’s potential.
To begin with, Ghana’s linguistic diversity is both its strength and its greatest challenge. With over 80 spoken languages across various ethnic groups, the question arises: which language becomes the standard medium of instruction? Akan? Ewe? Ga? Dagbani? Nzema? Any attempt to impose one over the others will inevitably create divisions and feelings of marginalization. Unlike countries such as China and Germany, which have one dominant national language—Mandarin and German, respectively—Ghana does not possess a single unifying mother tongue. These countries have built powerful, cohesive societies because they operate under one linguistic framework. Their educational systems, industries, governance, and scientific research are all unified under a single language, which strengthens national identity and international competitiveness.
In Ghana’s case, our unifying language has long been English—not because it is foreign, but because it provides a neutral ground where no ethnic group is privileged over another. English enables a Ga-speaking child in Accra and a Dagaare-speaking child in Wa to learn from the same textbooks, write the same exams, and communicate in the same academic space. More importantly, it connects Ghana to the global world. International trade, higher education, technology, and diplomacy are all dominated by English, French, and Spanish—not by local languages. If Ghana shifts its educational focus from English to local languages, our students will struggle to compete globally, not only in academics but in the job market as well.
Moreover, if we teach science, mathematics, and technology in local languages, how will our students perform in national and international examinations written in English? How will they cope when applying for universities abroad or reading global research materials? The current global economy rewards linguistic versatility, not isolation. A nation that prioritises English, French, or Spanish equips its citizens to participate in international discourse. Conversely, one that confines its youth to local languages risks creating intellectual and economic barriers.
There’s also a practical issue: do we even have enough teaching resources and qualified educators fluent in technical local-language vocabulary? Translating complex scientific and technological concepts into 80 different Ghanaian languages is neither realistic nor cost-effective. I studied Ghanaian language during my undergraduate studies, and we struggled sometimes to find appropriate words to describe things in other languages. Even within one language group, dialectal differences pose a problem; what a Fante child calls a term in Akan might differ from what an Asante child calls it. This inconsistency will only create confusion rather than clarity in education.
Promoting local languages should not mean replacing English. It should mean teaching local languages as subjects, not as the medium of instruction. Students should learn to read, write, and appreciate their mother tongues alongside mastering English—not instead of it. That is the model followed successfully by multilingual countries like India, where local languages are taught for cultural continuity, but English remains the bridge to higher education and international engagement.
In conclusion, while the intent behind the Education Minister’s policy may be patriotic, the execution is impractical and counterproductive. Ghana’s multilingual reality makes it impossible to implement a single local-language policy fairly. More importantly, in a world increasingly interconnected by technology, science, and commerce, Ghana cannot afford to isolate its future generations linguistically. Our goal should be to strengthen bilingual competence—mastering both English and our mother tongues—not to replace one with the other. To abandon English as our primary language of instruction is to abandon the global stage itself.
By: Patrick Otu-Lartey Gomez (Tales of Otu)
