Voices in peril: Rakhine's plea

In the lush landscapes of Bangladesh, the Rakhine community misses something sacred: their language, a living heritage intimately linked to their very being. It is a story of decline, of the dissolution of the bonds that bind generations and cultures, and we find ourselves at a crucial crossroads. 

The urgency is reflected as we grapple with the inevitable decline of the Rakhine language and call for swift and collective action to save what remains of our linguistic heritage.

To the elders, the Rakhine language was not just a string of words; it was a melody that danced across the fields in folk songs, a sacred hymn that echoed through the monastery walls, and an art form that decorated office boards with elegant accents of the Rakhine script. 

But the once-vibrant echoes of our culture are fading and being drowned out by the increasing use of  Bangla and English among younger generations leaving the comfort of their homes. The once ubiquitous Rakhine language is now preserved in the hushed tones of older family members at home.

Despite brave attempts by some families to keep the flame alive with bedtime stories, games, and social and religious occasions there is a clear lack of wider institutional support. The harsh reality of the lack of traditional education in Rakhine State leaves a gap that, if not urgently addressed, could lead to irreversible damage.

The lure of languages ​​like Bangla and English, which promise better career prospects, poses a daunting challenge and threatens to sever an important thread in the fabric of Rakhine's cultural identity. 

Amid the looming crisis, there are glimmers of hope: proposals to introduce Rakhine in schools, promote bilingual education, create educational resources, and use digital technologies such as language apps and social media campaigns.

However, the pillar of this renaissance rests on the efforts of a united community, a collective call to policymakers to recognize and nurture linguistic diversity as part of our national identity. This is a call to inspire our young people and encourage them to appreciate the treasure of their linguistic heritage before it slips away from them. 

The task before us may seem difficult, especially given the strong influence of Bangla  and English. However, through unwavering determination based on grassroots activism and supported by institutional support, we, the Rakhine community, can ensure that the mellifluous tones of our ancestral language continue to resonate in the heart of our homeland. 

This requires urgent determination and a shared vision before the fading light of our linguistic heritage becomes a permanent shadow. For a community, there is hardly a loss as profound as the decline of our native language - a loss reflected not only in words.

To comprehend the gravity of the situation, we must first understand the glorious history of the Rakhine people. Descendants of the legendary King Marayu, the Rakhine established the powerful kingdom of Dhanyawati in 3315 BC which lasted over 4,000 years until the Burmese invasion in 1784 AD. The Rakhine people lived through eras of greatness – building grand cities, spreading their culture and language across lands and seas, and innovating arts and literature. Their language contains this rich memory and when it declines, the links to this cultural legacy also fade.

Scholarly studies into the dynamics of language shift provide some clues into what is catalysing the decline of spoken Rakhine among new generations. Primary factors seem to be the lack of formal instruction in schools, reduced intergenerational contact within families, stigma against visible usage in public spaces and workplace pressures to assimilate into the mainstream Bangla culture.

Most crucially, Rakhine children spend their formative years in Bangla medium schools with no exposure to their native language in an academic setting. Constant immersion in Bangla results in its dominance. Elder family members who would have sustained language transmission are often not present at home due to urban migration and smaller nuclear families. These drivers of change seem to instigate the rupture between fluent elder speakers and their children, who struggle with Rakhine proficiency.

But despite these obstacles, the Rakhine community's strong desire to preserve their linguistic identity inspires hope. In addition to proposals for school-level instruction, grassroots community organisations have stepped up. Temples and monasteries try their best to tutor young novices in reading and writing. Cultural groups organise language and performing arts workshops. Providing food and prizes stimulates participation.

Technology also opens new possibilities — whether through social media campaigns, animated language tutorials, or WhatsApp groups for practice. For previous generations, the oral language was transferred through living interactions between parents and children. For younger, tech-savvy youths, digital interfaces allow self-paced learning and participation in a virtual speech community. The potential of blending traditional and modern tools provides optimism.

However, the path forward requires coordinated efforts on multiple fronts. Policy changes need civil society advocacy. Curriculum reforms depend on community monitoring. App creation relies on crowdsourced linguistic data. Pulling these disparate efforts together demands networks of collaboration between elders, activists, technologists, and government agencies.

Saving Rakhine language transmission is not the duty of the community alone but a collective national responsibility to nurture our diversity. The mainstream education system has the obligation to open its doors to indigenous languages, the media must represent all minority groups equally, and public awareness on issues like linguistic human rights needs building. On International Mother Language Day, as we prepare celebrations recognizing our beloved Bangla language, we must also pause to consider what is happening to our lesser-known tongues.

For the Rakhine people, the mother tongue is the thread linking the new generation with their identity as descendants of an ancient civilization. Severing that thread disconnects them from their history and culture. 

In those young, confused minds, a void opens where once familiar ancestral voices resided. Preserving those voices provides a nurturing ground for diversity to bloom in harmony. And that ultimately enriches us all as a nation. That is why this is not just a Rakhine plea alone. It is time we come together to truly save our vanishing voices.

Umow Kyaw is a student of Language and Linguistics at the Institute of Modern Languages at the University of Chittagong. 

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.