Punjabi is the most widely spoken mother tongue in Pakistan and one of the most vibrant
community languages in the United Kingdom. Yet, on both sides of the world, Punjabi continues to
exist in a strange contradiction: spoken daily by millions, but denied formal recognition, institutional
support, and long-term policy commitment. This gap between reality and recognition raises an
urgent question — why does a language of the majority remain treated like a minority concern?
In Pakistan’s Punjab province, Punjabi is the first language of the overwhelming majority of the
population. It is the language of homes, streets, markets, farms, and factories. Despite this, Punjabi
remains largely absent from classrooms, courts, hospitals, and government offices. Urdu and
English dominate official life, while Punjabi is pushed into informal and private spaces, as if it were
unsuitable for education or administration.
This exclusion has real consequences. Research in linguistics and education consistently shows
that children learn best in their mother tongue, particularly in early schooling. Yet Punjabi-speaking
children are routinely expected to begin formal education in languages they do not fully understand
at home. The result is reduced comprehension, loss of confidence, and weaker educational
outcomes.
As one education researcher noted, “When a child’s language is excluded from school, the child
learns early that their identity does not belong there.” This silent message has shaped generations
of Punjabi speakers, many of whom grow up fluent in their language but unable to read or write it
confidently.
The issue is not cultural sentimentality; it is about rights and access. Linguistic inclusion is essential
for democratic participation. Citizens should be able to understand government notices, legal
proceedings, and medical information in their own language. When public systems operate only in
Urdu or English, they unintentionally exclude large sections of the population from full participation
in civic life.
Punjab’s political leadership has the authority — and responsibility — to address this imbalance.
Making Punjabi a compulsory subject in schools, developing standardized curricula, training
teachers, and introducing Punjabi alongside Urdu in public services would be practical and
achievable steps. Such reforms would not threaten national unity; rather, they would strengthen it
by ensuring citizens feel represented and respected.
Media and technology also play a critical role. Punjabi remains underrepresented in mainstream
television, print journalism, and digital platforms. Greater investment in Punjabi-language media,
educational technology, and cultural programming could significantly improve literacy and visibility.
In the age of artificial intelligence and digital learning, neglecting a language spoken by tens of
millions is not only unjust — it is shortsighted.
The conversation does not end in Pakistan. In the United Kingdom, Punjabis form one of the largest
and most established South Asian communities. Punjabi is widely spoken in cities such as
Birmingham, Bradford, London, and Manchester. However, even in Britain, the language often
survives without strong institutional backing, relying on families and community initiatives rather
than public policy.
A community leader in Manchester recently observed, “Language is how memory travels. When it
weakens, history weakens with it.” This insight reflects the growing concern among diaspora
communities about intergenerational language loss.
Recognizing the importance of global dialogue, a Punjabi Language and Rights Conference will be
held in Manchester from May 1 to May 3, 2026. The conference aims to bring together academics,
educators, activists, writers, and policymakers from Pakistan, the UK, and Europe to discuss
language rights, education models, and policy advocacy. Manchester’s large Punjabi population
makes it a natural venue for such an international gathering.
Ultimately, the demand for Punjabi language rights is a demand for equality. No language spoken
by millions should be treated as secondary in its own homeland or invisible in diaspora policy
frameworks. Punjabi does not need saving from extinction. It needs acknowledgment, policy, and
respect. Whether in Lahore or London, Faisalabad or Manchester, the message is the same: a
people’s language is not a problem to be managed — it is a right to be upheld.