The first thing Al-Amin lost in Saudi Arabia was not his job.
It was his voice.
On April 5 this year, the young man from Lakshmipur crossed borders with faith in a promise he could not read and words he could not speak. The broker had assured him of work. The visa was “free.” The future, he believed, would speak for itself.
But in a country where survival depends on language, silence became his shadow. Day after day, Al-Amin walked into factories and offices, hands calloused from years of labour, skills etched into his body – but locked behind a tongue that could not explain them.
“I am in danger here because I do not know and understand the language,” he later told Jago News. “I cannot explain the work I can do.”
For Al-Amin, Arabic was not just a language left unlearned back home. It became the difference between dignity and despair – a difference millions of Bangladeshi workers discover only after it is too late.
Once, he recalled, a neighbour took him to a factory. He worked there for a day – then was let go.
“I have endured a lot of mistreatment due to not knowing the language,” he said.
Al-Amin’s story is not an exception. It is the lived reality of millions of Bangladeshi migrant workers across the Middle East, where linguistic isolation often turns opportunity into exploitation.
Stranded without words
In March this year, Yasir Hamid from Noakhali travelled to Qatar using a visa arranged by a relative, who had promised him work in a shop. That job never materialised.
“After I went, they didn’t arrange anything,” Yasir said. “I had to find my own job. Being new, I didn’t have language skills. Even when I told known Bangladeshis, no one could manage a job for me.”
An SSC graduate, Yasir admits he underestimated how crucial language would be for survival.
“I didn’t understand the necessity of language to stay in the country,” he said.
He briefly found work at a carpet shop but couldn’t last a month. The job required visiting customers’ homes, taking measurements, confirming orders – tasks impossible without Arabic.
“Now I sometimes go for construction work,” he said. “If I get it, I do it. If not, I don’t. Even then, it’s difficult to meet my own expenses.”
Brokers, short-term visas and silent suffering
According to Touhidur Rahman, an employee of Saudi Arabia’s Panda Company, the problem is structural – and growing.
“The brokers bring workers on visas valid for only three months,” he told Jago News. “Later, they don’t give them work, nor do they issue Iqama. As a result, even skilled workers don’t get jobs at first. And because they don’t know the language, they don’t get good jobs or salaries.”
Rahman, who has worked at Panda for six years, explained the contrast clearly.
“Those who come on direct company visas don’t have to worry about language. Companies hire according to demand,” he said. “But now most workers fall into the clutches of brokers and supply companies. When the promised job doesn’t exist, they suffer badly while searching – especially because they can’t communicate.”
A widespread crisis with national consequences
Every year, the majority of Bangladeshi migrant workers head to Middle Eastern and Gulf countries – Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Kuwait, Bahrain, Oman and the United Arab Emirates – where Arabic is the dominant language.
Yet, in reality, around 95 per cent of Bangladeshi workers go without learning Arabic.
The consequences are severe. Unable to communicate with employers, officials or customers, many workers are pushed into low-paying, unstable “odd jobs,” regardless of their skills. This not only reduces individual income but also directly affects Bangladesh’s remittance earnings, a key pillar of the national economy.
Workers who do manage to stay longer say language comes slowly.
“Usually after six months or a year, workers begin to understand Arabic,” several expatriates told Jago News. “But the initial months are unbearable – especially when combined with broker fraud.”
“No work, no money, no language”
Alamgir Hossain, now living in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, described how language failure can quickly spiral into illegality.
“The broker brought us and kept us in a cage,” he said. “After three months, I became illegal because I wasn’t given an Iqama.”
Without a Saudi card, stepping outside was terrifying.
“If the police caught me, I couldn’t explain anything. I don’t know Arabic or English. I apologised twice and was released.”
“No work, no money – I felt completely helpless,” he said. “If there was a system to learn some language before coming, and if brokers didn’t cheat, I could have done very well.”
“The agencies just bring us and abandon us,” Alamgir added. “No follow-up. No Iqama. No job. To handle these things, language is essential. Otherwise, you suffer.”
Millions sent abroad, none taught Arabic
Data from the Bureau of Manpower Employment and Training (BMET) reveals the scale of the issue.
Between 2020 and 2024, 39,78,562 Bangladeshi workers went abroad.
Of them, 3,280,088 went to six Gulf countries.
In the first 11 months of 2025, another 8,23,177 workers migrated to the Gulf – 6,70,767 to Saudi Arabia alone.
From 2020-2024:
Saudi Arabia: 23,58,095
Qatar: 1,69,968
Kuwait: 93,684
UAE: 21,702
Oman: 3,84,616
Bahrain: 23
Yet despite this overwhelming Arabic-speaking destination profile, none of Bangladesh’s 110 Technical Training Centres (TTCs) offer Arabic language training.
BMET has introduced various language programmes – but Arabic teachers, modern curricula and learning systems remain absent.
Token orientation, no real training
Waliullah Molla, Principal of Noakhali District TTC, confirmed the gap.
“We don’t teach Arabic here,” he told Jago News. “Workers are given a small Arabic book during the three-day Pre-Departure Orientation (PDO) course. It contains basic phrases for minimum communication.”
“That’s all,” he said, adding that the TTC has already written to BMET requesting a proper Arabic programme.
A plan, at last
Engineer Md Salahuddin, Director (Training and Management) at BMET, acknowledged the urgency.
“We are going to start an Arabic language program,” he said. “Initially in 26 TTCs. It will be a three-month course so workers can achieve minimum speaking ability and communicate with Arabians.”
But he also pointed to a cultural challenge.
“Our workers are inattentive to learning language and skills,” he said. “Even where language courses exist, participation is low.”
Making language mandatory
Immigration and Refugee Expert Asif Munier believes half-measures are no longer enough.
“To ensure minimum communication skills, Arabic education must be made mandatory,” he told Jago News. “A large number of skilled teachers should be appointed. If necessary, instructors can be brought from abroad.”
He also suggested recruiting returnee migrants with 15-20 years of Middle East experience as trainers.
“If the government wants, it can make Arabic compulsory for clearance to Arab countries,” he said. “Workers would need an Arabic certificate to migrate.”
“To keep the immigration system sustainable,” Munier warned, “language education must be prioritised now.”
The cost of silence
For millions of Bangladeshi workers, the journey abroad begins with hope – but too often ends in isolation, exploitation and regret. Until language training becomes a core pillar of migration policy, the price of not knowing Arabic will continue to be paid in fear, lost income, and broken dreams.