In the quiet village lanes of Koshalgaon in Thakurgaon, far from the capital’s digital glare, lives a 23-year-old who is a day labourer by vocation but a storyteller by passion.
Sujon Pahan Abir, a member of the Munda indigenous group, spends most of his days doing various jobs, including harvesting paddy in the agricultural fields. During moments of brief respite, he picks up his smartphone to speak to his audience.
Sujon currently has over 94,000 followers on Facebook, addressing them in heavily accented but determined English—a language that connects him to an audience far beyond the rice fields of his village. “I started in 2022,” Sujon told The Business Standard recently. “Like any other person, I wanted to become an English speaker.”
There is a certain unpolished charm in the way he speaks—words delivered with care, pauses that hint at real-time translation. His accent is unmistakably rural, with a hint of British influence, and he wears it with pride. For Sujon, English is more than just a language; it’s a gateway to new possibilities—and perhaps, one day, an income.
But Sujon’s journey began long before he ever touched a smartphone. His father passed away when he was just two years old. When he was in Class Five, his mother fell seriously ill, leaving one of her arms permanently paralysed. “She could no longer work,” Sujon recounted.
So he stepped up. “Oh, that is common here,” he explained. “There’s plenty of work—day labourer jobs—for young boys, even as young as Class Five students. And that’s what I did.”
Sujon became part of the village’s informal labour force. Even today, at 23, he juggles multiple jobs—whatever earns a bit of money—including agricultural work. “I harvest paddy and work the fields for a day’s pay,” he said.
Somewhere along the way, Sujon discovered YouTube. He began watching English tutorials on the platform and quickly became obsessed. “My favourite speaker is Jeremy Pall, a British YouTuber,” he said.
He now takes viewers with him through his daily life. In one clip, Sujon walks through the local bazaar, narrating in English; in another, he talks about the values of hard work and the path to success.
Sometimes, Sujon is not alone. Others—whom he calls “partners” in his clips—appear alongside him: working in the fields, carrying sacks, or taking a tea break at a tong.
“My community has been very supportive,” he said. In some of his Bangla-speaking videos (which are a rarity), Sujon interacts with others and introduces them to his audience, often with high praise.
Recently, Sujon was contacted by an IELTS teacher based in Dhaka. He has also been interviewed by local news outlets.
His first break came in 2023, when a cousin filmed him working in a paddy field while speaking in English and describing the work. The short clip struck a chord—it went viral, garnering five million views. That video catapulted Sujon into an unexpected spotlight.
People were clearly intrigued by the young man from a small village who had taught himself English out of sheer determination and now engaged thousands online.
His followers grew over the past two years, and with them emerged a new crop of English content creators from nearby Thakurgaon city. “I think at least 20 others have started making content in English after seeing me,” Sujon said.
Despite the newfound attention, his life remains grounded—literally. He still lives with his mother, the only family he has, in their modest home. His content has yet to become a source of income. “But I am working on it,” he said. He has also started growing his YouTube channel, which now has over 2,000 subscribers. Additionally, he launched a second public Facebook profile, recently reaching 1,000 followers, which includes the words “English Care” in its name.
Sujon’s lens captures the quiet, earthy rhythms of village life. In one recent clip, he highlights the lush greenery in the background by simply panning his smartphone camera in both directions, smiling at the centre of the frame. He expressed gratitude and joy in English for standing there and connecting with a virtual audience.
For his audience, Sujon offers something refreshing. His content is rooted in rural Thakurgaon and is free of the hyper-edited polish common online. For the most part, it’s an unfiltered look into Sujon’s work. And for his community—especially the youth of the Munda ethnic group—he offers something more: visibility.
“We do not own land. Opportunities for my people are extremely limited,” Sujon explained. “Many of us don’t go beyond school. I see young people falling into bad habits—addiction.”
Sujon completed his intermediate-level education, but his eagerness to learn has continued beyond formal schooling. “Every time I finish a job, I go online. I learn a new thing. I see what others are making,” he said.
That aspiration—however humble it may seem—carries the weight of something larger: hope, both personal and communal. Sujon doesn’t just want to escape hardship; he hopes to redefine what “dreaming” looks like for someone from his background. This is reflected in his motivational captions and short clips, all emphasising the importance of pushing one’s limits.
In his quiet yet consistent way—by turning on his phone camera, pressing record, and choosing to speak in a foreign tongue to reach a wider audience—Sujon is, perhaps, breaking new ground.