Once an escape from poverty, education for second-generation British-Bangladeshis is now a fight for representation

Once viewed as a path out of poverty, education for second-generation British-Bangladeshis is now about breaking down barriers for minority communities.

Kobi Nazrul. Bangabandhu. Osmani. 

Each notable figure in Bangladeshi history has inspired the names of primary schools in Tower Hamlets.

Kobi Nazrul is dedicated to the memory of Bengali poet and author; Kazi Nazrul Islam. Bangabandhu, meaning ‘friend of Bengal’, honours Sheikh Mujibur Rahman who helped found Bangladesh in 1971, and Osmani was named in commemoration of General Muhammad Ataul Gani Osmani for his contribution towards the independence of Bangladesh.

These three primary schools in Tower Hamlets were named in honour of important figures in Bangladeshi history and are testimony to the reverence placed on education by the East End Bengali community.

For the first generation of Bangladeshis who arrived in Britain in the late 20th century, education was a lifeline that symbolised hope in the face of adversity. 

Many of these immigrants, primarily from the Sylhet region of Bangladesh, came to Britain in search of better opportunities amidst political upheaval and economic hardship back home. 

First generation Bengali

Anwara Begum, was one such immigrant. Her daughter translates; 

‘My father sent me to England with nothing but the clothes on my back. I had to stay with a family I didn’t know and marry a man I didn’t know so that he could provide for me. I did not know how to cook or speak English. I felt alone but I had to be grateful. I was scared for my family back home. I would send them any money I made from sewing clothes. They thought we were living in luxury.’ 

Many like Anwara, after their experiences, felt the need to establish a home here in Britain with the fear that they might never return to Bangladesh.

The community settled in East London, where they found work in the textile factories or as restaurant workers, often facing racism and economic marginalisation. For this generation, education was critical to providing better opportunities for their children. 

‘Education was seen as the only way out,’ says Anika Hussain (daughter of Anwara). ‘Our parents worked incredibly hard so we could have the chance to pursue something better. For them, getting a good education wasn’t just important—it was essential.’

That generation’s experience of growing up under authoritarian rule in Bangladesh, coupled with the harsh realities of life as an immigrant in Britain, instilled in them a fierce determination to see their children succeed. 

For many, success was defined by entering respected professions, such as law, medicine, or engineering—fields that promised stability and status in Britain.

Changes in equality

Education for girls in the British Bangladeshi community also dramatically transformed over the decades.

In the early years of immigration, traditional gender roles often dictated that boys were given priority in education, while girls were expected to help at home. 

However, as Bangladesh itself witnessed a shift in gender dynamics—most notably with the election of its first female prime minister, Khaleda Zia, in 1991—attitudes in the diaspora began to change as well.

By 2015, British Bangladeshi girls had begun outperforming boys in schools, with an eight per cent higher success rate in GCSE results. This was a profound shift in a community where girls had historically been underrepresented in education.

‘Seeing female leaders in Bangladesh like Khaleda Zia and Sheikh Hasina gave us the belief that women could achieve just as much as men, if not more,’ says Rima Ali, a third-generation student from Bethnal Green. ‘For my family, it wasn’t just about getting an education—it was about breaking through barriers.’

For the second and now third generation of British-Bangladeshis, education is no longer just a means of survival; it’s a path toward greater self-fulfilment and societal impact.

These young British Bangladeshis are pushing beyond the boundaries their parents and grandparents once faced, entering fields like the creative arts, business, and public service.

‘Before, you were an outlier if you went to university,” says Rushanara Ali, MP for Bethnal Green and Stepney, who made history in 2010 as the first British MP of Bangladeshi origin. ‘But now, more people from the community are attending university, which has opened doors for future generations.’

Second generation Bangladeshi

Ali’s journey as the first British Bangladeshi heritage in Parliament is not only inspiring but also reflective of the broader narrative of the British Bangladeshi community’s evolution in education. 

In our interview, she shared the vital role education played in her own life, emphasising that without the support of her teachers in the East End, she wouldn’t have been able to achieve her goals. 

‘I came to this country when I was seven years old,’ Rushanara recalls. ‘I did not speak English, and it was my school teachers who taught me the language. At secondary school, I had fantastic teachers who instilled a strong sense of purpose and taught me that anything was possible if you put in the effort. Combined with my parents’ support, particularly my mother who was very education-centred, this made all the difference.’

Rushanara’s experience mirrors that of many first-generation British Bangladeshis attending university. She describes education as her “passport to opportunity”—a belief shared by much of the community. For first-generation immigrants like Anwara Begum, ensuring their children received a good education was paramount to achieving the stability and success they could not fully experience themselves.

However, as Ali highlights, her generation, which she describes as the “middle generation,” was often the first to break into higher education and professional fields. ‘When I was growing up, very few people we knew had gone to university or into professions like law, medicine, or teaching. But that’s changed. Today, British Bangladeshis are well-represented in a range of sectors,’ she notes.

She also touches on the importance of access to various educational pathways, such as university and apprenticeships, noting that “it doesn’t have to be one route to success.” 

While university education remains critical, especially in increasing earning potential over a lifetime, practical learning routes like apprenticeships also offer significant opportunities.

‘Growing up, my generation didn’t have access to networks like these,’ she explains. ‘Now, it’s about making sure young people know about the opportunities available to them, whether that’s for higher education or entering the workforce.’

Third Generation British-Bangladeshis

While their grandparents may have focused on survival and stability, today’s British Bangladeshis are more concerned with pursuing their passions and giving back to their communities.

‘We aren’t fighting for the same things in education anymore,’ says Rahim Ahmed, a student activist from Bethnal Green. ‘For us, it’s about ensuring our education serves our community, contributes to diversity, and fosters representation in every sector.’

‘Our grandparents wanted us to secure stable jobs, but we’re fighting for a seat at the table. We want to see Bangladeshi voices heard, not just in Parliament but in every institution in Britain.’

In addition to seeking more visibility in the political arena, younger British Bangladeshis are also advocating for changes in the education system itself. 

Many are calling for more diverse curricula that reflect the contributions of minority communities to British history and culture.

‘We want to see our experiences reflected in what we learn,’ says Rahim. ‘We need to break out of the colonial narratives that dominate our textbooks and make space for the stories of immigrants like our grandparents.’

While the third generation is flourishing in many ways, new challenges remain. Socio-economic factors continue to impact the community. 

According to data, Bangladeshi households are among the most likely to live in income-deprived neighbourhoods in England, often relying on a single income. This economic hardship can make it difficult for some students to fully focus on their studies, especially as the cost of living in areas like Tower Hamlets continues to rise.

But despite these hurdles, there is a strong sense of optimism in the community. Parents, many of whom worked low-paying jobs for most of their lives, are investing more in their children’s education than ever before. 

‘The focus used to be on getting jobs at 16,’ says Rahim, ‘but now parents are willing to spend more on tuition and extracurricular activities to ensure their children succeed.’

Maliat Ahmed, a 27-year-old PhD student, from East London, reflects on the journey that led her to higher education. 

‘None of my immediate family studied or have degrees,”’ she shares, noting how her siblings were among the first in their family to attend university. 

‘Our parents and grandparents didn’t have access to education in the way we do. My mum made it to college, but her parents got ill.’ For Maliat, pursuing a PhD is a significant achievement not only for herself but also for her family, who have supported her in ways they never imagined possible. ‘I am the first person in my family to go to the extent of a PhD. My uncle even got me an iPad. Access to doing a PhD requires more than just applying—it does require you to have the tech. Those barriers that my family helped me with were significant.’

However, the journey hasn’t been without its challenges, particularly financial ones. ‘I ended up going self-funded, and I struggled these four years,’ she admits. 

Despite the increasing number of South Asians entering higher education, the financial burden remains a significant hurdle for many. ‘There needs to be more grants and scholarships to encourage more British Bangladeshis in research and further education. Pursuing any type of education is difficult, and dealing with that with a financial cloud over your head is not nice.’

Maliat’s experience highlights the need for greater financial support for students from minority backgrounds to ensure that more young British Bangladeshis can access and succeed in higher education.

The anti-quota protests in Bangladesh highlight this generational struggle. The protesters, many of whom are university students, are not asking for the complete removal of quotas but are seeking reforms that prioritise merit and create more opportunities for those who feel excluded from the system.

This mirrors the experience of British Bangladeshi youth in the East End, who now pursue opportunities in higher education, business, and the arts—inaccessible to their grandparents. 

Like their counterparts in Dhaka, they are challenging outdated systems of privilege and reservation, pushing for a more meritocratic society.

While the first generation of British Bangladeshis worked tirelessly to ensure their children could climb the socio-economic ladder, today’s youth are focused on making sure the ladder is available to everyone, regardless of their background. 

They are advocating for reform in both education and the workplace, seeking to break down barriers that still exist for minority communities in the UK.

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