Interviews to mark UNESCO World Mother Language Day in Leicester – 22nd February 2026
An interview with Shumaila Jaffrey – UNESCO World Mother Language Day
At the Wesleyan Methodist Chapel on Bishop Street in central Leicester, three organisations—Evington Echo, Soar Sounds and the Documentary Media Centre—came together on February 22, 2026 to mark UNESCO World Mother Language Day. The interviewer, a language enthusiast, spoke with Shumaila Jaffrey, a multilingual former BBC World Service journalist from Pakistan who is now completing a PhD at the University of Leeds.
Shumaila was born and raised in Lahore, in Pakistani Punjab, and she described how language is shaped by history and geopolitics. Punjab was divided in 1947, leaving Punjabi speakers on both sides of the India–Pakistan border. For her, World Mother Language Day is rooted in a painful story: in the early 1950s, in what was then East Pakistan (now Bangladesh), Bengali students protesting for recognition of their language were shot and killed. In Bangladesh the day is remembered as Bhasha Shaheed Day—Language Martyrs’ Day. Shumaila said that the language dispute became part of the widening rupture that eventually led to Bangladesh’s independence in 1971.
She contrasted the Bengali language movement with the experience of many Punjabis in West Pakistan. Although she is ethnically Punjabi, she grew up primarily in Urdu—the prestige language of the state and urban elites—while Punjabi was often treated as a working-class language. She called this sidelining of Punjabi “tragic”: she loves Urdu, but regrets how Punjabi was abandoned, and in recent years has tried to reclaim it by replying in Punjabi when others address her that way. She also reflected on migration and bilingualism, noting how diaspora children may understand a heritage language but respond mostly in English, and how “prestige” languages can be wrongly confused with intelligence. Language, she said, is identity, power and belonging—more like a patchwork quilt than a single fixed label.
Shumaila then spoke about her career and how it connects to those same questions of identity and community. She began journalism soon after 9/11 and worked as a frontline reporter, covering conflict and militancy and their impact on society, major disasters such as Pakistan’s 2005 earthquake, and longer-term issues including women’s empowerment, reproductive health, identity and religious minorities. After years in a small bureau she began to feel professionally stagnant, and a 2022 Chevening South Asia Journalism Programme fellowship in the UK helped spark a deeper interest in research.
When unrest broke out in Leicester later in 2022, she decided to focus her PhD on the events, particularly the role of disinformation and the city’s media ecology. She is examining how different communities access news and whether any sources are trusted across communities. So far, she believes there is no single local outlet equally respected by all sides—creating echo chambers and allowing information from outside Leicester to intensify fragmentation and polarisation. She is also studying representation in local media and how resourcing and staffing shape coverage.
Looking back, she said the best part of journalism was meeting people, travelling, learning, and giving voice to those who are unheard. Comparing journalism with academia, she noted that academic writing is theory-driven and often less accessible, but she hopes her research will lead to practical insights and recommendations that can help communities move forward.
Helen Pettman at UNESCO World Mother Language Day (February 22, 2026)
In a previous interview about language, Helen explained that she learned a little Latin and French at school and enjoyed conversational French for a time, but later lost fluency through lack of practice. As an adult she began learning Spanish to speak with her niece’s husband, though he became proficient in English first. Living in Leicester, she also noticed how people move between different languages in everyday conversation.
Following a discussion about the 2022 disorder in Leicester and an upcoming report into what happened, Helen reflected on her own family history and how persecution can shape identity, belief, and language across generations.
She spoke about events roughly 300 years ago, when Huguenots in France were persecuted after the revocation of the Edict of Nantes under Louis XIV. Helen’s ancestors were among those Huguenot families who fled to England and settled near Bedford, supported by the Duke of Bedford’s assistance to refugees. They made their home in Sharnbrook, where her family history includes Baptist ministers as well as leather-working tradesmen. When they arrived, they were labelled “Frenchies”.
Helen found it striking that this heritage still had an impact on her upbringing. Her father was deeply upset when her mother had her christened in the Church of England, as he strongly disapproved of both Catholicism and the established church. Instead, Helen attended a Methodist church, which her father saw as closer in spirit to the Baptist tradition.
For Helen, this is a reminder that the effects of persecution can echo for a long time. She questioned whether it really takes “three hundred years” to move past such events, noting that her own children have not been influenced in the same way—perhaps a sign that things can change.
She also recalled how her father always made a major occasion of Guy Fawkes Night, with a bonfire in their garden. As a child she did not fully understand the intensity of it, but later recognised it as tied to his anti-Catholic feeling and the history of the Gunpowder Plot. She remembered repeatedly asking to visit Coughton Court, which she passed often on school trips, and always being refused. Only much later did she realise it was connected with conspirators linked to the plot and associated with Catholic families—something her father did not want her involved with.
Helen ended by reflecting on today’s conflicts and forced migration. If persecution shaped her family’s beliefs and attitudes for generations, she wondered how long today’s divisions might last—and whether, by understanding the past, people can choose not to carry forward the same deep grudges.
Ariana at UNESCO World Language Day
At a World Language Day event on February 22, 2026, Ariana spoke about language, family and belonging. Ariana said she only speaks English, although she can read Arabic but does not yet speak it. She would like to learn to speak Arabic, but finds it difficult.
English is Ariana’s first and main language, and she enjoys using it. She also feels fortunate that it is her mother tongue because, as she put it, English can be a “tricky” language to learn as a second language.
Ariana explained that her background is South Asian, and that both her parents are bilingual. Her mother speaks a mixed, “broken” Punjabi and Urdu, while her father—who was raised in Kenya—speaks Swahili. However, both parents are fluent in English and do not struggle to express themselves. At home, they mainly use their heritage languages when speaking to relatives, when they are upset, or when they want a private conversation.
Ariana said her parents are not particularly disappointed that she does not speak Punjabi, Urdu or Swahili—though the wider family sometimes jokes about it. Communication can be harder with her maternal grandmother, who does not speak English. Ariana described feeling frustrated when she cannot reply or understand questions, and she relies on her mother to translate.
She feels learning Arabic would help her understand what she reads—especially because the Qur’an is written in Arabic—and could deepen her connection to faith. She also sees language as a social bridge: many of her friends are multilingual, and she sometimes feels limited by speaking only English. She recalled feeling bad when a stranger spoke to her in another language at a bus stop, assuming she would understand.
Asked about accents, Ariana said people sometimes describe her speech as “posh”, and she notices differences most clearly when comparing herself with relatives from other parts of the UK.
To close, she shared a favourite traditional phrase: “Many a mickle makes a muckle,” which she understands as small things adding up into something much bigger.
An interview with Denise Ismael – UNESCO WORLD LANGUAGE DAY
At the Wesleyan Methodist Chapel on Bishop Street in Leicester, the interviewer spoke with Denise Ismael, a long-time friend, to mark World Mother Language Day and explore the links between language and identity.
Denise has lived in England since 1986, first in London and later in Leicester. She was born and raised in Toulouse, in south-west France near the Pyrenees, and her mother tongue is French. At school she also learned English, German and Spanish, but her earliest linguistic influence came from her family in the countryside. Denise remembers that her grandmother’s generation was often bilingual: they used French in formal settings such as shopping, but spoke Occitan—the traditional regional language—at home and with neighbours.
Denise explained that Occitan is spoken across a broad area of southern France and is now experiencing a revival. Historically it was associated with the “langue d’oc” of the south, contrasted with the “langue d’oïl” that developed into modern French in the north. Although education was conducted in French even in rural schools, older speakers maintained Occitan in daily life, while many younger people gradually lost it. In Denise’s own family, her mother spoke Occitan as a child but shifted to French after marrying Denise’s father, who was from the city and did not speak Occitan.
Today, Denise sees clear signs of renewal in Toulouse: bilingual street signs, metro announcements in French and Occitan, and opportunities in some schools to study Occitan alongside other languages. She links this revival to cultural pride and to traditions such as the medieval troubadours, who wrote and sang in Occitan.
Denise went on to describe her language studies and career. She took A-levels in English, German and Spanish, then studied English and German at university with a focus on translation and interpreting. Later, in the UK, she completed a professional interpreting diploma in French–English (local government).
Reflecting on life between two countries, Denise noted that she is told she has a French accent in England and an English accent in France. For her, Mother Language Day matters because language is identity—and in an international society, multilingualism should be valued and encouraged.
An interview with Stephen on UNESCO World Mother Language Day
This conversation brings together the interviewer and Stephen, a long-time friend, whose discussions often return to language and linguistics.
Stephen traces his beginnings to a Welsh, skilled working-class family from Merthyr Tydfil, where each generation produced “one minister and one teacher.” A key family decision sent his uncle Idris, newly qualified as a Baptist minister, to the Leicestershire village of Whetstone.
Because Idris was unmarried, Stephen’s niece Kathleen was asked to accompany him to keep house. In Whetstone, Kathleen met Stephen’s father and, prompted by the family, returned “more permanently”—setting the stage for Stephen’s parents’ courtship. Stephen describes being “technically” born in Whetstone yet closely tied to Merthyr Tydfil, highlighting his sense of belonging to both places.
Early on, Stephen noticed that another language existed around him and gradually understood what he calls a “Tale of Two Wales”: the industrial Valleys culture and a wider Welsh-speaking Wales he didn’t grow up bilingual in—something he still regrets, given the cognitive and cultural richness bilingualism can bring.
Although initially monolingual, he discovered a knack for languages at Guthlaxton Grammar School, excelling in French. Later, working at the taxi rank at Leicester railway station, he took the opportunity to learn from Punjabi- and Urdu-speaking colleagues, focusing on Urdu for its broader prestige and reach, while also learning Hindi and reading and writing Devanagari. He speaks with pleasure about scripts, especially the flowing Urdu/Arabic script, and about language as an emotional force that enriches life.
The conversation turns personal as Stephen shares a treasured Dutch grammar book: sent by his grandmother to his father, Vincent, while imprisoned in Germany at Stalag IV-C during WWII, intended to help him learn Flemish. The story expands into reflections on war, humanity, and unlikely friendships across enemy lines.
To close, Stephen offers a farewell in Sesotho—a language he learned through love and community work with a South African refugee—explaining how it allowed private tenderness in public. He also describes Southern African “click” sounds and their written forms, ending the interview with warmth and gratitude.
An Interview with Mokhtar Hussein on World Mother Language Day
On World Mother Language Day 2026, the interviewer was joined by Mokhtar Hussein, originally from Bangladesh, who moved to Leicester in 1972, shortly after Bangladesh gained independence.
Mokhtar explained that 21 February is known in Bengali as Ekushey February. For Bangladeshis, it is not simply a celebration but a day of remembrance for the language martyrs—those who sacrificed their lives to protect Bengali, their mother tongue.
He described the historical background. In 1948, Pakistan’s leader Muhammad Ali Jinnah declared that the state language of Pakistan would be Urdu only. Tensions grew in what was then East Pakistan (now Bangladesh), where Bengali was the majority language. In 1952, when the same position was reiterated in Dhaka, students—particularly from Dhaka University—organised protests. The police were ordered to open fire, and several students were killed. Mokhtar noted that a number of martyrs are especially remembered by name, and that in Bangladesh people commemorate them by visiting the Shaheed Minar (Martyrs’ Monument), often just after midnight.
Mokhtar added that memorials to the language martyrs now exist not only across Bangladesh but also internationally, including in parts of the UK. He expressed disappointment that Leicester does not yet have a monument, despite having a significant Bangladeshi community, and he hoped this might change.
He also noted that UNESCO recognised International Mother Language Day in the mid-1990s, strengthening the global message: languages should be protected, valued and kept alive, and no community’s language should be suppressed by political power.
Mokhtar ended by thanking the organisers and encouraging more Bangladeshis in Leicester to take part in future events and show pride in their language and heritage.
An interview with Farish for UNESCO World Language Day — February 22, 2026
Speaker: Hello, listeners. I was at the Wesleyan Methodist Chapel on Bishop Street in Leicester, joined by Farish, a friend of mine. We’d talked about language and linguistics before, but this was our first in-depth conversation.
Farish: My name was Farish. I was from Turkey, born in Istanbul, and my mother tongue was Turkish.
Speaker: Tell me about the linguistic influences in your family.
Farish: On my mother’s side, my family came from Sivas in central Turkey. The dialect there was closer to the kind of Turkish spoken by Azeri people in Iran and Azerbaijan. My mother spoke that dialect at home, and her accent and word choice stayed much the same after she moved away. My father’s side came from the same province, so the dialect was very similar.
Speaker: Istanbul was a city bridging Europe and Asia, with a long cosmopolitan history. What languages did you hear growing up?
Farish: Istanbul had always been diverse, shaped by empires and migration. Growing up, I heard many languages spoken by different communities—among them Jewish, Greek, Kurdish, Persian and Bulgarian communities.
Speaker: What did Turkish mean to you personally?
Farish: It was the main language of everyday life in Turkey and in my family. Because Turkey wasn’t shaped by a colonial language in the same way as some countries, Turkish was central. For me, it strongly shaped identity and culture.
Speaker: You also spoke English very well. When did you start learning it?
Farish: I became interested in languages as a child. I wanted to communicate with people beyond my own country and understand other cultures, so I was drawn to learning English early on.
Speaker: Your background was in history, and you were interested in politics and geography. How did language connect to geopolitics, particularly in Turkey’s history?
Farish: The Ottoman Empire was multinational and multilingual, and different communities maintained their languages for religion and daily life. After the empire ended and the Republic was established, Turkey became a nation state built around a Turkish national identity. Language reforms aimed to standardise Turkish, modernise it, and move away from Ottoman Turkish.
Speaker: And Ottoman Turkish was quite different from modern Turkish.
Farish: Yes. Ottoman Turkish was heavily influenced by Arabic and Persian, and later by French and other Western languages. Modern reforms tried to “purify” and standardise Turkish, which also created a cultural break with the Ottoman past.
Speaker: We often played a language game: I’d guess Turkish words, and you’d tell me they sounded Ottoman rather than modern. Where did that come from?
Farish: Because you drew on Urdu vocabulary, which contains many Persian and Arabic loanwords. Those words overlapped with older Ottoman vocabulary, so your guesses often sounded more Ottoman in style. Over time, borrowed words also shift in meaning and nuance, which happens in every language.
Speaker: I described language as a river—always moving, always changing.
Farish: Exactly.
Speaker: To close, could you share a short message for our listeners for World Mother Language Day.
Farish: I said that mother languages matter because language carries culture. It shapes how we see the world, and it influences our worldview.
Speaker: Thank you very much, Farish.
