On a quiet afternoon, Monica Marandi, a Santali young woman from Dinajpur, presses record and tries to speak in the language her mother once taught her. The words come slowly. Bangla slips in between sentences. She pauses, searching not for ideas but for vocabulary she once knew by heart. What makes the moment powerful is not just what she says. It is what almost disappears in the process; a language learned at home, now struggling to find space beyond it.
In line with this year’s theme, “Youth Voices on Multilingual Education”, UNESCO Dhaka launched a digital campaign “My Language, My Tales,” in observance of International Mother Language Day 2026. The campaign invited people to create short videos in their mother tongues; not polished speeches, not formal lectures but authentic stories from life. And they responded.
Monica’s story was among the many shared, as young people across Bangladesh turned their cameras towards their own languages. Some spoke in Indigenous tongues, which are rarely heard beyond their communities. Others used regional dialects rich with local humour, folklore, and memory.
In the Kol language, Rajib Kol from Chapainawabganj brought forward the rhythms of his community’s daily life. In the Naogaon dialect, Prova reflected on her local roots and personal journey, showing that identity is strength, not a barrier. Through the distinct tones of Mymensingh speech, Omit Hasan playfully revealed how familiar words transform across regions.
In Khulna’s dialect, Zayan Khan and Tamanna Rahman Tanny celebrated the land, the Sundarbans, and the quiet pride of owning one’s voice. In Satkhira’s local tongue, Nashia Razia Ahmed performed a vivid storytelling piece; in Kishoreganj’s dialect, Irin Akter Shuchana carried another woman’s life story through conversation; in Sadri, Subroto Munda spoke of intergenerational transfer and the risk of losing what is no longer practised; in Manikganj’s local speech, young Shrija introduced the beauty of her district; and in Barishal’s dialect, Tapan Biswas connected rivers, the Liberation War memory, and the legacy of the Language Movement.
Research consistently shows that children learn best in a language they understand. Education delivered through the mother tongue strengthens cognitive development, builds confidence and improves participation.
What tied these videos together was not similarity in accent or region but something deeper: a quiet insistence that language matters. Each submission, whether playful, reflective, proud, or concerned, carried the same undertone. Language is not only how we speak. It is how we remember. It is how we belong. And when it is sidelined, something larger than vocabulary is lost.
Bangladesh’s history is rooted in linguistic dignity. Every year, February 21 reminds the nation that language can shape identity, resistance and nationhood. Yet beyond Bangla, more than 50 Indigenous communities continue to navigate a multilingual reality - speaking one language at home, another in school and often a third one online. For many young people, this feels natural. For others, it comes with a quiet fear: that their own language may slowly fade from daily use.
The “My Language, My Tales” campaign by UNESCO did not attempt to solve every structural challenge facing multilingualism. Instead, it created space. A space where dialect was not corrected. A space where Indigenous and regional languages were not treated as secondary. A space where young people could speak unapologetically.
Photo: The Daily Star
Research consistently shows that children learn best in a language they understand. Education delivered through the mother tongue strengthens cognitive development, builds confidence and improves participation. But beyond pedagogy lies dignity. Several participants described how speaking in their own language publicly and confidently felt like reclaiming space, both online and offline. In a world where nearly 40 percent of learners are still not taught in a language they speak at home, these efforts became small acts of affirmation.
The campaign revealed something powerful: when given a platform, youth do not hesitate to speak. Smartphones became storytelling tools. Social media became a living archive. A one-minute video became preservation.
The voices are already there; in Kol, in Sadri, in Naogaon’s dialect, in Khulna’s tones, in Barishaila rhythms. The question is no longer whether languages are at risk. The question is whether we are ready to truly listen.
Rakibur Rahman Tamim is the Associate Officer - Communication and Public Engagement at UNESCO Dhaka
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