In Senegal, the Bastion of the Region’s Francophonie, French Is Giving Way to Local Languages

A man sits outside a stationary store with French signs in Dakar, Senegal, Thursday, Oct. 3, 2024. (AP)
A man sits outside a stationary store with French signs in Dakar, Senegal, Thursday, Oct. 3, 2024. (AP)
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In Senegal, the Bastion of the Region’s Francophonie, French Is Giving Way to Local Languages

A man sits outside a stationary store with French signs in Dakar, Senegal, Thursday, Oct. 3, 2024. (AP)
A man sits outside a stationary store with French signs in Dakar, Senegal, Thursday, Oct. 3, 2024. (AP)

For decades Senegal, a former French colony in West Africa, has been touted as the bastion of the French language in the region. Leopold Sedar Senghor, the country’s first president and a poet, is considered one of the founding fathers of the concept of Francophonie, a global alliance of French-speaking countries.

But many say a shift is underway. While French remains the country’s official language, inscribed into its constitution, its influence is waning. It is giving way to Wolof, the most widely spoken local language — and not just on the street, where the latter has always been dominant, but in the halls of power: government offices, university corridors and mainstream media.

As the French president hosts the annual Francophonie summit north of Paris, Senegal’s president is not attending in person. He sent the foreign minister as his representative instead.

“Wolof is on the rise because Senegalese people want to be seen,” said Adjaratou Sall, professor of Linguistics at the Cheikh Anta Diop University in Dakar, who began researching the Wolof language in 1998. “They want to detach themselves from the colonial heritage and reclaim their own cultural identity.”

There are 25 languages in Senegal. Six of them have the status of national languages, but Wolof is largely dominant. Out of the population of 17 million people, over 12 million speak Wolof, compared to around 4 million French speakers.

But like in most former colonies, French has traditionally been the language of Senegalese political and cultural elites. The vast majority of schools across the country and all universities are French speaking. All official documents are issued in French. With the education rate in Senegal at around 60%, this excludes a large part of the population.

President Bassirou Diomaye Faye, the youngest elected leader in Africa, was voted in six months ago on an anti-establishment platform, and his rise reflected the frustration of the Senegalese youth with the traditional, elderly political class. He has made a point in making all of his official speeches in both languages, French and Wolof, and pledged to give local languages the primary role in schools, with French introduced later.

The shift comes as most West African nations are rethinking their relationship with France, which is losing its clout in the region. In some cases, like in Burkina Faso and Mali, which are ruled by military juntas, the divorce with the French language has been abrupt: They dropped French as the official language and banned many French-speaking media outlets.

The decline of French in Senegal has been more subtle. But to a careful observer, the signs are everywhere: More and more billboards are either bilingual, or in Wolof. Although all university courses are still conducted in French, Sall said that professors and students speak Wolof to each other in the corridors, which would have been unthinkable when she started working. Some Senegalese writers are publishing their books in Wolof, and not in French.

“Surely, the nationalism which began to take root with the new government is playing a role,” said Fall. “But another important factor has been the revolution in the media, which started with Sud FM.”

Sud FM, the first private radio station in Senegal, started broadcasting programs in Wolof in 1994. The morning news program in Wolof now has over 2 million listeners, said its director, Baye Oumar Gueye.

“We replied to a real need: providing information to the population, who does not speak French,” Gueye said in an interview in his office. “They can now participate in the exchange of information.”

He added: “The use of the French language is decreasing. When you want to reclaim your sovereignty, the first thing is to have your own language.”

El Hadj Aip Ndiaye, who has been driving a taxi in Dakar for the past 45 years, said he remembers well the launch of Sud FM. “Everyone listened to it,” he recalled.

Ndiaye, who did not go to school and speaks a very limited French, said he listens to the radio everyday from 5 a.m. until midnight, as he drives across the dusty roads of Dakar in his yellow, rickety taxi.

“Before, all the news on the radio was in French,” he said. “I could not understand it. But with news in Wolof, you can understand what they are saying. You understand the world better, and you can take part in the conversation.”

“People are now proud to speak Wolof,” he said. “Before, when you spoke Wolof, you were judged as a peasant. But now, even our president speaks Wolof a lot, so people are not afraid to speak it.”

But even the biggest proponents of Wolof do not want a revolution. Fall, the linguistics professor, said she dreamed of university courses being held in Wolof, and children being taught in their local language, whether it would be Wolof, Serrer or Peul.

“We will get there, but it's a process,” she said. “And we need French as well. It is the language of openness, which allows us to communicate with others in the region.”



Sakaka Cultural House, Cinema Association Screen Five Short Films

Photo by SPA
Photo by SPA
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Sakaka Cultural House, Cinema Association Screen Five Short Films

Photo by SPA
Photo by SPA

The Sakaka Cultural House, in cooperation with the Cinema Association, hosted a cultural event featuring the screening of five independent short films to promote cinema culture and showcase local productions, SPA reported.

Marking the first collaboration between the two entities, the event aimed to enrich the region's cinematic landscape, provide an interactive platform connecting audiences with filmmakers, and foster critical discussion around the themes presented in the films.


Thieves Buy Tickets Before Plundering Necklace from Vienna Museum

Austrian media said the Van Cleef and Arpels necklace, with 673 precious stones, was worth several million dollars. (Getty Images)
Austrian media said the Van Cleef and Arpels necklace, with 673 precious stones, was worth several million dollars. (Getty Images)
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Thieves Buy Tickets Before Plundering Necklace from Vienna Museum

Austrian media said the Van Cleef and Arpels necklace, with 673 precious stones, was worth several million dollars. (Getty Images)
Austrian media said the Van Cleef and Arpels necklace, with 673 precious stones, was worth several million dollars. (Getty Images)

Two men bought tickets to enter Vienna's Museum of Applied Arts (MAK) before smashing a display case, grabbing a 200-carat platinum and diamond necklace and walking away, police said Friday.

Austrian media said the Van Cleef and Arpels necklace, with 673 precious stones, was worth several million dollars. It is the latest in a series of high-profile heists to hit European museums.

Police said the two men did not wear masks, paid to enter the museum and were clearly seen on surveillance cameras.

They "smashed a glass display case" with a hammer before "fleeing with the jewelry in an unknown direction," said a police statement.

The MAK museum confirmed the theft but said it would not comment while the investigation went ahead.

The necklace had been part of an exhibition devoted to the French designers Van Cleef and Arpels. Some 500 pieces had been on display since June. The exhibition was to end on September 27 but has been closed following the theft.

It was designed for the former Egyptian royal family, and was worn by Queen Nazli in 1939 for the marriage of her daughter Faiza to the future Shah of Iran, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi.

On its website, Van Cleef and Arpels called the stolen piece a "triumph of white jewelry". The French company did not immediately comment on the theft.

European museums have been hit by a series of spectacular thefts since thieves in October broke into the Louvre museum in Paris in broad daylight, escaping in less than eight minutes with jewelry worth $102 million.

Thieves on Thursday raided the Treasure of Villena -- one of the greatest Bronze Age gold collections -- at a museum in the Spanish city of Villena, taking most of the 50-plus mainly gold bracelets, bowls, bottles and other items on display.

Four works "of extraordinary value" by Renaissance artist Antonello da Messina were stolen from a museum in Sicily, Italy's culture ministry said Sunday.

Two days earlier, Italian police said they had recovered paintings by Renoir, Cezanne and Matisse worth over $10.4 million which were stolen from the Magnani-Rocca Foundation museum near Parma.


Yayoi Kusama, Who Splashed Polka Dots Across the Art World, Dies at 97 in Tokyo

 Japanese avant-garde artist Yayoi Kusama, wearing a bright red wig and a Louis Vuitton polka dot scarf, speaks during an interview at her studio in Tokyo, on Aug. 1, 2012. (AP)
Japanese avant-garde artist Yayoi Kusama, wearing a bright red wig and a Louis Vuitton polka dot scarf, speaks during an interview at her studio in Tokyo, on Aug. 1, 2012. (AP)
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Yayoi Kusama, Who Splashed Polka Dots Across the Art World, Dies at 97 in Tokyo

 Japanese avant-garde artist Yayoi Kusama, wearing a bright red wig and a Louis Vuitton polka dot scarf, speaks during an interview at her studio in Tokyo, on Aug. 1, 2012. (AP)
Japanese avant-garde artist Yayoi Kusama, wearing a bright red wig and a Louis Vuitton polka dot scarf, speaks during an interview at her studio in Tokyo, on Aug. 1, 2012. (AP)

Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama, who splashed her signature polka dots on paintings, sculptures and museum installations around the world, has died, her studio said Thursday. She was 97.

Kusama died Aug. 14 at a hospital in Tokyo, Yayoi Kusama Studio said, without specifying the cause of death.

“She continued to paint until her final days, never setting aside her brush, and continued exploration of forever love and eternal soul,” the studio's statement said. “We will carry forward Kusama’s wishes and, through art, continue to bring hope and strength for the future to people around the world.”

Kusama, one of Japan’s most respected contemporary artists, was widely exhibited around the world, including the Museum of Modern Art, the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York and the Museum Ludwig in Germany.

Repetitive motifs were her trademark, in various shapes, resembling netting, swirls or worms, but most often dots, dancing proudly on her canvases, or as sparkling balls or dots of light in her installations, in all their vibrant psychedelic glory.

“Polka dots are fabulous,” Kusama said in a 2012 interview with The Associated Press, appearing in her signature orange bob wig and polka dot attire.

“I want to create a thousand paintings, maybe two thousand paintings, as many as I can draw,” she said in her childlike but matter-of-fact tone. “I will keep painting until I die.”

Kusama insisted she drew the way she saw the world: covered with spots, part of the hallucinations she said she had from childhood. She was in and out of psychiatric institution for decades, although her sickness did not hold her back as she was one of the first Japanese women to go to New York to pursue her art, in 1957.

Although soft-spoken and shy in her mannerisms, Kusama was always unabashedly bold in the assertion of her dotty vision, not only in sticking to the style for decades but also in making it accessible to the masses.

In her later years, as the times caught up with her art, she enjoyed fame. She signed on with fashion brands like Louis Vuitton as well as other licensed products like teacups, T-shirts and key chains with her illustrations, including replicas of her likeness that were used in show windows and other marketing.

In 2008, Christie’s auctioned her work for $5.8 million. In 2016, she won the most prestigious award Japan gives its artists, the Order of Culture.

Upon receiving the award, she told reporters she was more determined than ever to pursue her art, stressing that the sincerity and devotion she had demonstrated in her personal life were crucial parts of her artistic legacy.

“I feel there is little left in my life, but I am now still fighting to the death for my art,” she said. “I am giving all I have so that many people will continue to be interested in my art, even after I am dead.”

Kusama was called pop, avant-garde, feminist, just to name some of the categories thrown at her, most of which Kusama brushed off as not quite representative of her art.

She was born in a middle-class family but felt misunderstood, as her parents wanted her to simply get married. They wanted to buy her kimono, not paints and brushes. She knew she had to get away. She chose America.

When she arrived in New York, the fad was “action painting,” characterized by dribbles, swooshes and smears, not dots. She suffered years of poverty and obscurity. But she kept painting dots.

She put circles of paper on people’s bodies, and once a horse, in “happening” anti-war performances in the late 1960s, which got some people arrested for obscenity but helped get media attention for her art. While in New York, she befriended artists like Andy Warhol, Georgia O’Keeffe and Joseph Cornell, who praised her innovative style.

Over the years, Kusama made quirky but stunningly celebratory works like “Macaroni Girl,” a female figure plastered with macaroni, which expresses the fear of food and “The Visionary Flowers,” giant sculptures of twisting tulips.

Kusama, who has also made films and published several novels, said she wasn’t sure where she got her ideas. She just picked up her brush and started drawing. The process was so mysterious sometimes she surprised herself, she told AP.

“I think, ‘Oh, I drew that? I was thinking that,’” she said.

But she appeared happy to have her art be the focus of media attention and praise, reading one of her poems to a reporter or tackling her artworks with gusto for photos.

But she was also a charmingly disarming mix of vulnerability and defiance, at one moment declaring herself “an artistic revolutionary,” and then the next, mumbling: “I am so afraid, all the time, of everything.”

The news of her death was met with an outpouring of sadness from around the world, including museums that had exhibited her works.

Fans and artists alike praised her courageous persistence in vowing to continue creating art that, she said, will be recognized thousands of years after her death.

Messages recognizing her death were sent from people throughout Japan including Tokyo Gov. Yuriko Koike and Yoshitomo Nara, a younger Japanese artist who has exhibited widely abroad.

“RIP Kusama-sensei,” Nara wrote on his X account, respectfully calling her a teacher in Japanese.