We master the art of signing our names… yet forget how to write a thought.
At graduation ceremonies, caps are tossed, diplomas are handed out, and crowds applaud. But when the graduate is asked to write a single paragraph about their feelings… silence. When asked to express a clear opinion… hesitation.
It is as if the degree never touched their tongue, never left a trace on their pen. How can we celebrate certificates that fail to produce coherent sentences?
In the age of social media, students tweet more than they articulate. They send emojis and stickers instead of full sentences. A shortened language… a shortened mind… a shortened sense of self.
According to a 2023 study by Education First, Arab countries saw a sharp decline in academic and analytical writing skills, with more than 62% of graduates struggling to express themselves clearly—even about their own experiences.
The paradox: a student graduates “with distinction,” yet writes a professional email in the style of WhatsApp—no introduction, no structure, self-described in one word: ambitious.
The certificate has become a body without a tongue. Our schools teach texts but do not train voices. Universities conduct exams, but never examine style.
It is said that language is the house of thought—so are we producing generations with no houses, handing them papers while leaving their minds linguistically homeless? Language is not a subject… it is an identity. And when language disappears… awareness itself is lost.
So, dear holders of certificates, before you boast of your paper, ask yourselves: Can I write from within me… not from Google?
In one university class, a professor asked students to write a free one-page essay. Some sighed. Others complained. One asked: “Is there a template I can copy?” As if expression itself had been excluded from the curriculum. As if language existed only to fill blanks.
The student graduates after years of reading, yet cannot write a congratulatory letter without relying on ready-made phrases. His language resembles a PowerPoint slide: memorized, lifeless, without voice, without identity.
A British Council study found that over 70% of Arab university graduates suffer from “writing anxiety”—an inability to start a thought on paper unless copying or borrowing. It is as though the mind has lost the muscle of language, weakened by repetition, pasting, and long silence.
We are not teaching language—we are unintentionally weakening it. We correct spelling mistakes but never teach the craft of sentences. We praise those who memorize, but never ask: What have you written, truly, with your own hand? We fear expression, because it reveals what we don’t know.
But language is not just a tool of communication—it is the mirror of the mind. And when the mirror shatters, we pretend we are fine… but in truth, we can no longer see ourselves.
So, to those who hand out diplomas: do not ask only how many courses were passed. Ask: Can this graduate write an honest paragraph about themselves—without copying it?
And before we hang a graduation photo on the wall, let us hang a question in every student’s mind: Do I own my language? Or am I searching for my voice in the words of others?
Let us restore that voice, and return language to its rightful place: not on the exam paper… but in the heart. Why not start with weekly initiatives: “Say your thought,” “Write your opinion,” “Debate with respect”?
Only then… will we cultivate a language that speaks, not one that fades.
