Second-generation British-Bangladeshis: How immigration laws and social media apps are changing attitudes towards arranged marriages

In Whitechapel’s Bengali community, younger generations are redefining the tradition of arranged marriages by incorporating digital matchmaking and cross-cultural influences.

‘My parents met for the first time on their wedding day,’ says Alina Rahman, a third-generation Bengali living in Bethnal Green. “But for me, it was a bit different—I found my husband on an app.”

For the first-generation Bengali immigrants who settled in Whitechapel and Bethnal Green during the mid-20th century, marriage wasn’t just about two individuals—it was a bond between families, rooted deeply in tradition and social standing, as is common across South Asia. 

Today, that tradition is being redefined by younger generations who are blending old-world customs with modern influences.

Anwarul Haque, who arrived in the 1970s, recalls, ‘When I first came, we didn’t really see any Bengali women around until the 1980s when they started to come over and settle through marriage.’ 

The 1948 British Nationality Act allowed Commonwealth citizens, including Bengalis, to migrate to the UK, leading to a wave of arrivals in London’s East End. 

Arranged marriages were a means to bring over spouses from Bangladesh, cementing familial and community ties in their new homeland.

In these traditional arrangements, marriages were orchestrated by murobbis (wise elders), who would match couples based on family reputation, social standing, and religious compatibility. 

Fathers were responsible for selecting suitable matches, organising meetings, and negotiating dowries. However, mothers often played a quiet yet influential role behind the scenes. 

As Parveen Begum, explains, ‘My husband would formally introduce the idea of a match, but it was me who had the private conversations with my daughter to make sure she was comfortable with the choice.’ These behind-the-scenes negotiations allowed women to exert influence in ways that were less visible but no less critical.

At the time, the concept of love marriage—choosing one’s own partner—was still fairly unheard of and considered socially rebellious. Divorce, too, was a taboo subject with a heavy stigma attached to it.

Following the 1981 Immigration Act, fears of separation led many to bring their families over, sparking a wave of marriage-related migration from Bangladesh in the late 1970s and 1980s.

By the 1990s, as the second generation of British Bangladeshis came of age, weddings began to evolve. With more Western expectations and larger disposable incomes due to better job prospects, weddings became more involved.

‘In the ’90s, weddings were becoming slightly more glamorous as the generation getting married had been raised and educated here (Britain),’ recalls a former matchmaker. ‘They had more Western expectations of their wedding day.’

The 2000s saw an even more dramatic shift. Lavish weddings became the norm, influenced by Western culture and the portrayals of opulent marriage in Bollywood films.

‘On one hand, people wanted to conform to tradition, but on the other, they wanted the lavish cars and venues.’ says Salam Jones. ‘It was a balancing act between maintaining cultural values and embracing the material symbols of success.’

Despite these changes, concerns remained about the practice of finding spouses abroad. Men and women continued to travel to Bangladesh to find partners, but this trend began to decline for a few reasons.

‘Cultural compatibility became a significant issue,’ explains the former matchmaker. ‘Young people raised in the UK often found it challenging to relate to those who grew up in Bangladesh.’

Many young British Bangladeshis are now seeking partners on their terms, driven by a desire for emotional connection and compatibility.

Alina, who holds a degree in engineering, found that many men from Bangladesh considered by her family did not align with her educational background. ‘I needed someone who understood my lifestyle and my goals. The app provided a way to meet people who were more aligned with my perspective,’ she explains.

In recent years, dating apps have emerged to help people find partners who share their values and lifestyle. One of the most popular in the British Bangladeshi community is Muzz, formerly known as Muzmatch, a Muslim marriage and dating app launched in 2015 by Shahzad Younas, a British Muslim who understood the cultural and religious nuances of the community. 

There was an increasing fear that potential spouses might be more interested in securing a British visa than building a happy marriage.

This shift has also been influenced by restrictive immigration policies, which have made it more difficult for British Bangladeshis to marry partners from Bangladesh. 

The Immigration Act of 2014 imposed stricter financial requirements for those wishing to bring spouses to the UK. 

In traditional Bengali marriages, women often moved into their husbands’ homes, sometimes living with their in-laws—a practice known as ghar jamai. While this is still common, more couples are now choosing to set up independent households, reflecting broader shifts in gender roles and marital expectations within the community.

The tradition may be changing, but the joy of the occasion endures. Weddings are typically multi-day affairs, with events like the mehndi (henna ceremony) and nikah (Islamic wedding contract) drawing large crowds of family and friends.

Bright colours, matching clothes, and elaborate gold jewellery are common, symbolising prosperity and happiness. Wedding feasts feature an array of dishes—biryani, kebabs, mithai (sweets).

The evolution of arranged marriages within Tower Hamlet’s Bengali community reflects a broader trend of balancing tradition with modern values. While the foundation of arranged marriages—family involvement and cultural heritage—remains intact, younger generations are increasingly prioritising personal choice, emotional connection, and digital matchmaking. 

Changes in gender roles, education, and immigration policies have also shaped new expectations around marriage. Yet, despite these shifts, the core of Bengali wedding traditions—celebrating family, community, and culture—continues to resonate, preserving the heart of this deeply rooted practice in a rapidly changing world.

As Bengali novelist Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay put it, ‘In every ceremony, the heart of the tradition speaks louder than any words.’ Despite the evolving nature of these traditions, the essence of the ceremonies remains profoundly resonant.

If you enjoyed reading this, you may also like: Second-generation Bengalis: How South-Asian clothing is navigating the tightrope of Bengali, British and Muslim identities