Every April 27 for the past five years, I have marked my birthday by hosting a literacy event for children from diverse backgrounds. This year was no exception. However, I made the celebration even more meaningful by launching my new children’s storybook. This tradition is rooted in my unwavering belief that in post-colonial societies, children’s literature plays a critical role as a vehicle for cultural resistance—helping young minds reclaim their identities from the lingering shadows of colonialism.
Through my work as a literacy educator in Nigeria, I have seen how stories that reflect children’s realities can open new doors in both learning and identity development. My time teaching at Baban Saura, and in other classrooms, revealed just how transformative culturally grounded narratives can be. One unforgettable example involved the children’s enthusiastic response to Sambo and Juju, particularly the traditional game of Okie featured in the book. Their excitement wasn’t just about entertainment—it was about recognition. These children saw themselves, their lives, and their community reflected in the story. That recognition transformed passive reading into a deeply personal experience.
Stories That Reflect Real Lives
When children read stories that mirror their own environments, the connection is immediate and powerful. At Baban Saura, many of my students were Almajiri children under the FLARE Project. Their response to Sambo and Juju proved how vital it is to provide narratives filled with familiar characters, local settings, and cultural references. Instead of seeing a fantasy world filled with snow and blonde princesses, they saw reflections of their own lives—and that mattered.
To deepen their engagement, I often wove their names and familiar local landmarks into the stories I crafted for our lessons. The results were astonishing. Eyes lit up, backs straightened, and hands eagerly shot up with questions and excitement. Children became the heroes of the stories they heard, which in turn nurtured a strong sense of pride and ownership of their heritage. This strategy didn’t just build reading skills—it built identity.
Reimagining Storytelling as Cultural Resistance
Culturally relevant storytelling is far more than an educational technique—it is a form of resistance. In post-colonial contexts, many schoolbooks still prioritize foreign perspectives and values. Replacing these dominant narratives with indigenous stories helps children reclaim cultural ownership. In my classroom, we often explored themes that connected nature, time, and tradition. For instance, stories that followed the rhythms of planting seasons and rainfall patterns didn’t just teach environmental awareness—they connected directly with our social studies and science curriculum. Children understood how these cycles influenced real-life decisions, like when to plant crops or plan weddings.
This kind of storytelling created a cross-curricular learning experience, grounded in familiar wisdom. By using our environment as the foundation for our stories, I taught children to see the natural world not just as a subject, but as a living classroom filled with history, rhythm, and meaning.
Preserving Language and Identity Through Literature
Language holds the key to preserving cultural identity. By embedding local dialects into my stories, I helped students reclaim linguistic pride. In Africanado Adventures, one line always stands out: when Amaga’s mother says “Ka ji?” (Hausa for “Do you understand?”), the classroom comes alive. The children beam with pride because their language—their voice—is honored in print.
Even when encountering unfamiliar languages like Sotho, they often noted the similarities to their own. These moments created deeper linguistic awareness and a newfound appreciation for the richness of African languages. When children see their languages reflected in literature, they feel validated. They begin to understand that their stories matter.
Cultivating Historical Awareness and Critical Thinking
Understanding the present requires grappling with the past. In our lessons, I made space for conversations about colonial history—not to dwell on pain, but to uplift stories of resistance, wisdom, and courage. These narratives helped children grasp how colonialism impacted their communities and why their own stories matter just as much as those found in Western textbooks.
This approach encouraged critical thinking. The children learned to challenge dominant narratives and value the knowledge passed down through their families and communities. They developed the confidence to ask questions, analyse different perspectives, and see themselves as knowledge creators—not just consumers.
Writing Stories That Empower
As a children’s book author, I approach each story with purpose. I ensure that every book I write contains characters, scenarios, and values that resonate deeply with young readers in post-colonial settings. My stories celebrate indigenous knowledge, highlight local values, and offer children the opportunity to reflect on their identities with pride.
Beyond the stories themselves, I strive to create a dialogue around literature. Through classroom discussions, feedback sessions, and reflection activities, I give children space to share how stories make them feel. Their insights shape future lessons and, in some cases, influence the next stories I write. This dynamic exchange gives them a sense of agency and reinforces their role as co-creators of their learning experience.
Creativity as Expression: Read, Reflect, Create
To further nurture expression, I developed interactive programs like Read-A-Create, Conversations with Namse, and Puppet Shows. These activities allow children to respond to stories with their own creative voices. They draw, act, build, and tell their own stories. These outlets expand literacy beyond reading—it becomes a whole-body, whole-heart experience.
Why Children’s Literature Matters in Post-Colonial Education
In the end, this journey has shown me that when crafted with cultural intentionality, children’s literature holds the power to shift the educational narrative in post-colonial contexts. These stories become tools of empowerment—helping children connect with their roots, explore their identity, and imagine a future where their voices lead.
As we continue to reimagine education across the continent, we must not underestimate the power of storytelling. By lifting indigenous narratives to the forefront and embedding local culture and language into literature, we provide young learners with the tools they need to rewrite their own stories.
When children see themselves in the pages of a book, they begin to understand their value. And when they understand their value, they are better equipped to shape a world that finally reflects who they are.
