On International Mother Language Day, the story of the Bawm language in Bangladesh stands as both a testament to resilience and a warning of fragility. Spoken by a small Indigenous community concentrated in the Chittagong Hill Tracts, Bawm is a Kuki-Chin language with a rich oral and written tradition. Its future, however, depends not only on memory and emotion, but on deliberate choices made by families, community institutions, and the state.

For Lalrithang Bawm, Central President of the Bawm Students’ Association, the language is inseparable from identity. Growing up in Lairunpi Para in Ruma, Bawm shaped his childhood without question. It was the language of home, of village paths, of church services, and of everyday interaction. Even today, he continues to use it with family members and in social and religious gatherings.

He observes that younger Bawm speakers are engaging less with stories and songs as digital media replaces traditional communal spaces. Limited textbooks, fewer trained teachers, and the absence of policy support threaten intergenerational transmission. Without timely intervention, the language risks serious decline within the next two to three decades. Yet, with growing awareness and youth involvement, Bawm can survive as a core marker of cultural and collective identity.

A young female Bawm student from the University of Chittagong shares similar concerns. Within the community, Bawm continues to thrive in churches and literature, but outside these spaces, Bangla dominates everyday communication. Many urban-educated youth speak Bawm fluently in conversation yet struggle with literacy, as vocabulary, idiomatic expressions, and traditional narratives gradually fade from regular use.

Zem Laltharngak Bawm, the General Secretary of the Young Bawm Association, grew up in New Eden village in Ruma, where Bawm once shaped every aspect of daily life. For him, the language remains a core element of identity, culture, and heritage. Yet he has watched generational change with concern. Older speakers command a wide range of vocabulary, idioms, and proverbs, while younger speakers often simplify expressions or mix Bangla and English into their speech. The decline of historical narratives and ceremonial language now threatens cultural continuity.

He points to structural obstacles as a major concern. Schools overwhelmingly use Bangla or English as mediums of instruction, leaving little institutional space for Bawm. Teaching materials remain scarce, trained teachers are limited, and formal support continues to be weak. Although the government introduced pre-primary textbooks in five Indigenous languages—Chakma, Garo, Marma, Sadri, and Tripura—in 2017, aligned with UNDRIP Article 13(1), Bawm community children remain deprived of this significant government initiative.

For the older generation, the contrast with the past feels profound. Pastor Sawn Thuang Loncheu, a senior leader in multiple Bawm organisations and Secretary of the Bible Translation Committee, has spent decades working to preserve Bawm language and culture. He has witnessed the language’s evolution firsthand. Oral traditions—stories, songs, customs, and hymns—are gradually declining in daily practice, even as efforts continue to document them in written form.

He notes that Bawm is rarely used outside the community. In marketplaces, towns, and cities where Bawm speakers are few or absent, the language gives way to Bangla. Yet he remains encouraged by youth-led initiatives. Young people organise annual programmes featuring songs and cultural dances through associations such as the Young Bawm Association, the Bawm Students’ Association, and the Bawm Women Association. In his view, younger generations are increasingly active in protecting both language and culture, recognising them as the primary markers of collective identity.

Literacy remains central to his vision. The Bawm Primer Book, written and published by Rev. L. Dollan in 1952, laid the foundation for reading and writing in Bawm. Since then, children have learned it in Sunday school. Because Bawm uses the Roman alphabet, anyone familiar with the English alphabet can read it. Today, the Holy Bible, hymn books, and other materials are printed in Bawm, making literacy more accessible and reinforcing language use in religious life.

For long-term survival, he believes recognition and inclusion by the Education Department of Bangladesh are crucial; without curriculum integration, preservation depends largely on community effort. He emphasises that the Bawm community, which is entirely Christian, values honesty, sincerity, and peaceful coexistence, urging people to use, develop, and preserve their language, while warning that losing a mother tongue means losing a people. Across generations, Bawm remains strong in homes, villages, churches, and cultural gatherings, but weakens in schools, workplaces, and urban spaces dominated by Bangla or English. While technology offers tools for preservation, it also risks diluting traditional language use.

In recent years, the Bawm community has faced an escalating humanitarian crisis that has reshaped the social and cultural landscape of Bandarban. They have experienced mass arrests, prolonged detentions, and the near-total lockdown of villages such as Bethel Para, Pankhyang Para, Suanlu Para, Faruk Para, Eden Para, Darjeeling Para, Ronin Para, and Sunsaung Para. Many have been forced to leave their ancestral homes, while others continue to live under intense surveillance and fear.

This combination of displacement, detention, and restricted movement has fractured the communal spaces—churches, village gatherings, and intergenerational households—where cultural practices and language transmission naturally occur, placing additional pressure on an already vulnerable linguistic community.

Once a language flowed with idioms, proverbs, and ceremony, spoken fully by elders. Today, youth speak a simpler Bawm, shaped by city life and screens. Yet love for the language endures. Across generations, the call remains the same: nurture, speak, and preserve Bawm, the heart of their culture and identity.

On this International Mother Language Day, the Bawm language stands at a crossroads. Its future will not be decided by sentiment alone, but by sustained practice, institutional recognition, and collective will. The language is still alive. Its endurance now depends on deliberate action. Long live the Bawm.

Shaila Shobnam is a barrister-in-training at BPP University, Britain, and an LL.B. (Hons) graduate of the University of London.

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