On the banks of the Moyen-Chari River, in Southern Chad, young linguist Florian Lionnet is documenting Láàl, a language isolate only spoken in two small villages, which is threatened of disappearing in the short to medium term.
For the time being, however, people in this part of the world commonly speak in between five and seven languages, each small society preferring to retain its linguistic identity, even if it means having to learn the many languages of its neighbours.
Could it be that multilinguism is the 'natural' state of humanity? And for how much longer?
According to the UN, one language dies every fortnight. What are we actually losing with the death of those little languages?
On the banks of the Moyen-Chari River, in Southern Chad, young linguist Florian Lionnet is documenting Láàl, a language isolate only spoken in two small villages, which is threatened of disappearing in the short to medium term.
For the time being, however, people in this part of the world commonly speak in between five and seven languages, each small society preferring to retain its linguistic identity, even if it means having to learn the many languages of its neighbours.
Could it be that multilinguism is the 'natural' state of humanity? And for how much longer?
According to the UN, one language dies every fortnight. What are we actually losing with the death of those little languages?