RËNDAWI KËADATAN: Dying Words: The disappearance of Indigenous Languages and the fight for identity

UPI, Maguindanao del Norte (MindaNews / 09 August) — In many indigenous communities around the world, language is not just a tool it is a lifeline. It is how we remember, how we connect, how we live. But in today’s globalized world, many of these languages are dying. The silence is growing louder, and with each lost language, we lose a piece of human history, culture, and identity.

I grew up in a small indigenous community in Bungcog Upi, Maguindanao del Norte where our language was spoken in the home, in the community gatherings (Kanduli), and even in how we resolved conflicts (Tiyawan). It was our way of connecting with each other. We didn’t just speak the language, we lived it – the Tëduray. It shaped our view of the world, our relationships, and our sense of who we are.

But in the classroom, everything was different.

Inside those four walls, our indigenous language became a source of shame. It was discouraged, even punished. Speaking in our mother tongue during English or Filipino classes could result in fines or humiliation. School policies acting under an educational system that viewed local languages as barriers, enforced a strict preference for English and Filipino. We were taught that intelligence came with fluency in this one “national” language and one global language. Our own language, once so alive and respected in the community, was labeled as “vernacular”— unfit for learning and low in value.

This kind of systemic discrimination is more than unfair. It is dangerous.

The Silent Extinction of Indigenous Languages

According to UNESCO, a language dies every two weeks. That means we are losing entire worldviews, traditional knowledge systems, and cultural wisdom that have been passed down through generations. Indigenous languages carry with them the knowledge of nature, medicine, storytelling, and justice. When a language disappears, that knowledge disappears with it.

Indigenous languages are especially vulnerable because they are often spoken by small, marginalized populations. These communities may lack political representation, educational support, or economic power. Language loss is not just a symptom of change it is often a result of colonization, forced assimilation, and decades of systemic oppression.

In my own experience, I saw how families began to replace our indigenous language with Filipino or English at home. Parents, afraid their children would be judged or fall behind in school, started using only the dominant languages. Some believed this would help their kids succeed, but the result was a disconnect from culture, from grandparents, from identity.

Language as the Core of Identity

Our Indigenous language is the most intimate reflection of who we are. For Indigenous Peoples, it is not only a way to communicate but a core part of identity. It informs our relationships with nature, with ancestors, and with one another. Without it, we risk cultural amnesia forgetting where we came from and losing the ability to pass down our stories.

When a child is not allowed to speak their language, they begin to believe their identity is something to hide. I have classmates who grew up embarrassed by their accents or the way they pronounced English words. Some stopped speaking our native language altogether, trying to fit into a system that did not welcome them.

This is not just a personal loss. It is a loss for all of us.

Multilingualism should be celebrated, not punished. The ability to speak multiple languages—especially one’s own indigenous language—should be seen as a sign of intelligence and adaptability. But the current system often sees it as a problem, something that needs to be corrected or erased.

Education, Policy, and the Way Forward

There is hope, however. In my elementary days in 2005, some schools and teachers began experimenting with Mother Tongue-Based Multilingual Education (MTB-MLE). In this approach, indigenous languages were used as mediums of instruction, especially in early education. This allowed students to better understand lessons in science, math, and reading, because the teaching started in the language they knew best.

Some of the most effective teachers in my life were those who broke the rules to teach in our mother tongue. Without government support, without formal materials, they translated lessons into the language of the people. They knew that language is not a barrier; it is a bridge.

Still, implementation remains inconsistent. Many schools lack resources, trained teachers, or political will to support indigenous language education. The government must do more to protect linguistic diversity not just through policy but through funding, teacher training, and public awareness.

Indigenous Languages Are in Danger: So What Can We Do?

We need to act now. The danger facing indigenous languages is not just cultural—it is existential. Here are some ways we can start addressing the crisis:

·      Revive and use indigenous languages at home -Language learning starts with the family. Speak it with your children, your elders, and your neighbors.

·      Push for stronger language rights in education– Advocate for MTB-MLE in all public schools, and ensure indigenous languages are treated with equal respect and importance.

·      Support community language initiatives -Help document and preserve your language through writing, recording, and storytelling. Local libraries, cultural centers, and youth programs can play a key role.

·      Raise awareness-Talk about language loss in schools, universities, and communities. Educate people about the value of linguistic diversity.

·      Empower indigenous youth-Let them know that their ability to speak their native tongue is not a disadvantage it is a superpower.

My friend Reymon Tenorio wrote a powerful spoken poetry on August 02, 2021 during the Buwan ng Wika entitled

Kabataang Katutubo ng Makabagong Henerasyon

Isinulat ni Reymon King Tenorio
(Inayos ang anyo at daloy)

Sa tahimik na tuktok ng bundok,
Sa gitna ng kagubatan,
Sa gilid ng karagatan,
At maging sa malawak na kapatagan 
May mga katutubong mapayapang naninirahan.

Ngunit sa kabilang banda,
May mga taong mapanlinlang
Na pilit binabago at binubura
Ang sagradong kulturang kanilang kinagisnan.

Ang piyesang ito’y alay:
Sa mga bayani ng nakaraan,
Sa mga bayani ng kasalukuyan,
At higit sa lahat—
Sa kabataang katutubo
Na patuloy na lumalaban.

Lumalaban upang mulatin ang lipunan
Sa usaping diskriminasyon,
Sa kultura at tradisyon
Ng mga katutubong pamayanan.

Hayaan n’yong magsimula ako sa isang tanong:
Katutubong pamayanan, kailan ka lalaya?
Kailan ka nga ba tuluyang lalaya?
Lalaya sa lipunang mapangutya—
Lipunang tila ginawang kultura
Ang mismong diskriminasyon?

Nakakadismaya.

Sa kabila ng samu’t saring plataporma
Para buwagin ang diskriminasyong
Patuloy na sumisira
Sa kapayapaang inaasam ng inang bayan
Ito’y nananatili.

Patuloy.
Parang dilubyo.
Patuloy na nananalanta
Sa mga katutubong pamayanan.

Muling bumungad sa akin
Ang alaala ng kolonisasyon
Ito na ba ang mga Pilipinong
Tinubos ng dugo ng mga magigiting:
Katipunero, Bagani, Bahani, at Diyaga
Mula sa kamay ng dayuhan?

Kaya’t kabataang katutubo,
Mulatin mo ang iyong mga mata!
Tara na’t maging bahagi
Ng pagpapalaya ng ating kapwa
Mula sa kamay ng mga Pilipinong
Nag-aastang banyaga.

Hindi pa huli ang lahat.
Halina’t magsimula.
Dahil ang boses mo’y mahalaga
Upang kapwa Pilipino’y mapalaya
Mula sa kulturang nilason,
At tradisyong binura
Ng mga mananakop
Na ilang dekadang nanlinlang
Sa ating iniirog na inang bayan.

Hindi pa tayo malaya.
Ngunit kapwa katutubo, paalala:
Hindi sagot
Ang mga panlilinlang
Na nababasa mo sa social media.

At lalong hindi sagot
Ang maling ideolohiyang tinuturok sa’tin
Mga ideolohiyang ginagamit ka
Para sa kanilang pakikibaka,
Na labag sa iyong kultura’t paniniwala.

Ang tunay na punto ng tulang ito ay:
Mulatin ang lipunan.

Habang may mga taong mapanlinlang,
Habang may mga karapatang niyuyurakan 
Malabong makamit
Ng inang bayan
Ang tunay na kalayaan.

Lastly,  language is not just about words it is about worldviews, wisdom, and ways of life. When we lose a language, we lose a way of seeing the world. But when we preserve it, we protect the soul of a people.

Let us not allow our indigenous languages to be buried by the weight of colonization, globalization, or discrimination. Let us speak them with pride, teach them with care, and protect them with urgency.

Because every word we save is a story saved.

And every story saved is a future protected.

(MindaViews is the opinion section of MindaNews. Edward Intang Abelardo is a proud Tëduray young leader and staunch advocate of the Non-Moro Indigenous Peoples (NMIP) in the Bangsamoro Region. He has amplified the voices of Mindanaon Indigenous communities across local and global platforms—merging grassroots activism with strategic political engagement. Recognized as an Indigenous Peoples Champion of BARMM, Edward continues to be at the forefront of the movement for self-determination, cultural preservation, and meaningful inclusion in governance. The title of this column, Rëndawi Këadatan, means “The Light of Culture”)