Fallou Ngom is a professor of anthropology in the College of Arts & Sciences. Ngom’s research interests focus on the intellectual written histories of Africa, the interactions between African languages and non-African languages, the adaptations of Islam in Africa, and Ajami literatures (records of African languages written in enriched forms of the Arabic script) in Africa and the diaspora. His recent work focuses on Islam and grassroots literacies in Africa, and sociolinguistics and linguistic anthropology.
Ngom also recently received the 2024 Boston University Provost’s Scholar-Teacher of the Year Award. This award recognizes outstanding scholars who excel as teachers inside and outside the classroom and who contribute to the art and science of teaching and learning.
How did your research in religion and linguistics begin?
I was born in the southern part of Senegal, which is a multilingual area. I grew up speaking many languages because that’s the norm there. After my high school degree, what they call Baccalauréat in the French-based system in Senegal, a former French colony, I was sent to the University in Saint-Louis in the north. I was in the English Department. There were two tracks in the English Department. There was a track for people who were interested in literature, and there was a track for those interested in linguistics. Obviously because I spoke many languages, I took the linguistics track. That’s how I began to study linguistics.
After my master’s degree, I had an opportunity to go to the University of Montana in Missoula. I spent a year there, teaching French as a teaching assistant, and also doing a master’s degree in French linguistics. After receiving a master’s in French linguistics from the University of Montana, I then applied for a PhD program that matched my interest. I found one at the University of Illinois at Urbana Champaign. That’s where I continued my studies in linguistics. There I was exposed to African linguistics and African Studies. They had a huge center, just like here, in African languages and African linguistics.
By the time I finished my PhD, the job market was kind of intense, so I transferred to the French program. That gave me additional skills to be able to compete for both linguistics and French linguistics jobs. That’s why when I graduated, I was competitive in different areas. I could compete in linguistics, and I could also compete in French linguistics.
You returned to your alma mater in Senegal as a professor years later. What was that experience like?
Very interesting, very, very interesting. I was in the same department. Some of my former professors were still there. But it was very good for the students. Because students were able to see that with hard work, you can make it.
When I arrived in Senegal, the university was shifting towards a new system called LMD (Licence-Master-Doctorat), which is very similar to the American system. It was shifting from a French system to bachelor’s, master’s and PhD. So I was the one of the people who actually helped the students in linguistics move from the old system to the new system. What was very interesting for them was that because I taught linguistics, I did not use the French theory-driven approaches. You had people in the class who spoke all the languages in the country. So I pulled data from them. For example, there were people who spoke Wolof. Wolof is the most widely spoken language in Senegal.
We would take a week to talk about Wolof, and the Wolof speakers in the class would provide the data. We would analyze the data, and then the following week, we would take another language and the students were tested in all the languages. They also tested the linguistic theories we discussed with data from multiple languages. It was so interesting for them because they had never seen that. They never knew that there were so many similarities between their different languages. This approach actually broke down the barriers and stereotypes they had. It was really great. That’s what I do.
I always engage my students in whatever I do, because I feel that the best way to train students is to show them how things work in real life. Theory is one thing, but hands-on experience, experiential learning, is the best approach. I learn by doing, and I think that many students do. You can talk about theories, but until the students are able to actually see the real-life application of the theories, it’s very hard to make the materials resonate with them. My approach has always been to make my teaching really connect with students, and help them see the relevance of the materials we discuss. Otherwise it’s just too abstract.
Can you tell me about your current book projects Beyond African Orality: The Sufi Ajami Poetry of Sëriñ Mbay Jaxate?
I received a note a few days ago from the editor of Oxford University Press telling me that the two external reviewers have recommended publication and that the reviews are excellent. So I am working with the editor on the next step. I started this book long ago. This was even before Muslims Beyond the Arab World, which won the Best Book Prize in African Studies in 2007. This project was based on archives that I found in 2010 in a rural village in Senegal, and they were written by “one of the local Shakespeares” called Mbay Jaxate (1876-1947). I had no idea that this person was writing about nature, ethics, morality, and even documenting ecological changes.
When you read the documents, you could tell that there were these types of animals and that these were the concerns farmers had, etc. His poems capture beautifully the fauna, flora, and the landscape of his time that have now been altered due to ecological changes. I find his work interesting. He was a farmer, poet, moralist, and social critic. The man would always look at society and sometimes he would write these beautiful short poems, targeting one particular group or person—both men and women. He dealt with all kinds of themes that reflect the local value system, the moral philosophy, the way he saw the world, and the ecology and the fears he had—the preoccupations.
So what I did in this new project is select 60 of his most interesting poems that are widely known in the area and transcribe them because they are written in an African language using a modified Arabic script, an age-old tradition called Ajami. I had to transcribe them into Roman script and then translate them from there into English. But the translation took me a lot of time. Because he wrote in the early 20th century, the language that he used is an old variety of Wolof. I had to find local people who are well-versed in that language, but also rural. I come from a small city of the size of Framingham. So our variety is an urban variety. So there were a lot of words in the poems I didn’t know, meaning I had to do regular fieldwork, meeting with local elders from villages to tell me what some of the words mean. Even the grammar has changed because the language has evolved significantly.
I like my work to resonate with people. How do I make this person who was writing in an African context in the early 20th century understood by my daughters? I have a daughter who is 22 years old, and I have another one who is 17 years old, and they are American. I want them to read and understand the content of the book. How do I make that happen? The metaphors and all the local figures of speech and proverbs that are so beautiful in my view—how do I translate those concepts into English? That was a big challenge. That’s why the book took so long to complete. So after the transcription of all the documents, I translated them based on my own understanding and the feedback I received from people on the ground. Once that was done, I got the ideas; I got the key points.
Now the problem became ‘how do you deal with the metaphors?’ These metaphors are locally grounded. So, I looked for some kind of equivalents in English. I wanted to provide a translation that is both meaningful but that also keeps the flavor of the poet’s original language. And once I was done with editing a translation of a poem, I gave it to my wife, who is an American citizen born-and-bred, and to my daughters. Their feedback enabled me to polish and finetune the translations. So, this is how I went through the whole process. That’s why it took me so long, but I think it’s my favorite book. I think that it documents that there were indeed local Shakespeares and Chaucers in sub-Saharan Africa. The poet, Mbay Jaxate, actually is very similar to Chaucer in the way he writes. As one Oxford University Press anonymous reviewer notes: “The findings from Ngom’s study prove beyond doubt that classical literature cannot be limited to Greek, Roman, and other European literature only.”
What is the process of collaborating with others in translating like?
It’s time consuming for sure, but there’s a joy in translating concepts and texts that capture important issues of a culture that the people who are around it don’t even know about. That’s what I find very interesting. There were other aspects that really motivated me.
When I first went to the poet’s village, his oldest son Sëriñ Mustafa was alive. When we arrived, we told him our purpose—that we came to digitize his father’s old manuscripts. This was a project funded by the British Library. He pulled out his Nokia phone and told me and my colleagues, my research assistants, ‘My father once told me that somebody would come one day from far away looking for these documents. And when they come, I should do my best to help them.’ Then he took his phone and called his relatives who were spread across the country, putting us in touch, telling them in front of us ‘when they come to you, give them any document that you have about my dad, make it accessible to them.’ That spiritual generosity is very, very powerful.
That allowed us to digitize in 2011 a little over 5000 pages of documents that were spread across relatives. And it’s those documents that I studied and produced in this book. And that’s why this book is dedicated to him, the poet’s oldest son. It’s a tribute. Once the book is out, I will probably travel there and give a copy to the family and tell them this is to honor Sëriñ Mustafa, who died in 2014, for opening up the sources. The spirit of generosity that I experienced with Sëriñ Mustafa and others was an important source of motivation for me. I felt a moral obligation to really finish the project and to produce a high-quality book. So I left the project dormant for a long time because it took so long to do the work correctly, and I didn’t want to rush it. I wanted to get it right. So there is a lot of joy in the completion of this project.
What are your reflections on your recent BU Provost’s Scholar-Teacher of the Year Award?
It somewhat took me by surprise. Because it’s the result of my students’ efforts, I am deeply honored. It is probably the honor I am most proud of, because it means that my digressions and the amount of work I usually give students are appreciated! I am truly honored.
Here’s one thing that shaped my teaching philosophy. I had good and bad teachers, and I never wanted to be like the bad ones. I had a professor who was very meticulous, caring, and hard working. He was my role model. He was fair, and you could see that he was there for you and he wanted the best for you. I made the choice very early in my career that I wanted to be like him. I think that’s really what shaped my teaching philosophy. I see the success of every student as my own success. I was helped and led, step by step. I feel my obligation is to do the same.
My relationship with students is holistic and not only limited to the classroom, because that’s how that good professor had once mentored me. I feel it is my duty. The successes of students actually make me very, very happy. When a student is facing challenges and I’m able to help them come back on track and accomplish things—it resonates with me. I’m very honored that they nominated me and I was awarded this, but I think the credit goes to them. I just did my job and I’m grateful that they nominated me. It’s also a mandate to continue to hone my teaching and mentoring skills. This is a great honor.
Interview by Kelly Broder (COM’27)