Afryl Davies, a 65-year-old resident of Cardiff, has found herself at the heart of a deeply personal—and increasingly public—campaign for linguistic rights in Wales. After the death of her husband, Aled Glynne Davies, in December 2022, Afryl discovered that obtaining an official death certificate in Welsh was far from straightforward, despite both she and her late husband being first language Welsh speakers who had always registered family milestones bilingually. Her struggle has resonated across Wales, raising questions about identity, equality, and the status of the Welsh language in some of life’s most significant moments.
For Afryl, the issue is not merely bureaucratic. “My language is not a clerical error, it’s part of me, it’s my soul. It’s who I am. It’s who Aled was, it’s who our family is, it’s who you relate to and the Welsh language is a massive part of that,” she told BBC. Her frustration mounted when, after an inquest conducted in Welsh, the registrar—unable to understand the Welsh on the coroner’s certificate—was legally required to issue the death certificate only in English. The General Register Office refused her request for a Welsh certificate, offering instead to add the Welsh language in a small note at the bottom of the document, a compromise Afryl rejected as insufficient.
“Why am I having to fight for this in 2025? It’s ridiculous,” she said. The emotional toll has been significant, with Afryl describing the experience as “frustrating, emotional and draining.” She has been stopped in the street by supporters urging her to continue her campaign, but also admits, “You are battling against people who really don’t understand. It’s just very, very tiring, very exhausting, your emotions are all over the place.”
The legal barriers Afryl has encountered are rooted in laws dating back to the 1950s and 1960s. These regulations stipulate that births and deaths can only be registered bilingually if the registrar speaks Welsh; otherwise, the certificates must be issued in English. Welsh-only certificates are not permitted, and in England, registration is possible only in English. This legal landscape means that even in cases where families, like the Davieses, have always chosen bilingual documentation, official recognition in Welsh can be denied at the most critical moments.
Afryl’s quest for change has taken her all the way to the High Court and into the offices of her local MP, Alex Barros-Curtis, who represents Cardiff West. Barros-Curtis has taken up the cause in Parliament, introducing the Registration of Births, Deaths and Marriages (Welsh Language Provision) bill. The proposed legislation would make bilingual certificates the default for all such documents issued in Wales, while also allowing individuals to request English- or Welsh-only versions if they prefer. Crucially, it would extend these rights to Welsh people registering life events in England, a significant consideration given the frequency of cross-border healthcare and family ties.
According to Barros-Curtis, the current situation is indefensible: “Unbelievably, in 2025, I don’t believe that right is guaranteed,” he wrote in an op-ed for Wales Online. He emphasized that the Welsh language should not be seen as an indulgence but as a right, stating, “This is not a radical demand, nor is it a matter of party politics. It is a matter of basic respect and equality. The Welsh language belongs to everyone in Wales, not to one political party or another. It is part of who we are—our culture, our history, our sense of belonging.”
The bill was presented in the House of Commons on October 17, 2025, using the 10-minute rule, a parliamentary mechanism that gives backbenchers a rare chance to introduce new legislation. Mrs. Davies watched from the gallery as Barros-Curtis made his case. While only 16 such bills have become law since 1983, the campaign has garnered support from both Welsh Labour and Plaid Cymru MPs, reflecting a broad consensus across party lines.
Barros-Curtis’s proposal would require the General Register Office to translate events into Welsh for certificates not already registered bilingually. It would also allow for bilingual certificates to be issued in England when requested by Welsh speakers or their families—an important provision for those who might, for example, receive cross-border healthcare or have family events registered outside Wales. Birth certificates would be available in Welsh if either parent is a Welsh speaker, and death certificates could be issued in Welsh if the deceased lived in Wales, was from Wales, or was a Welsh speaker.
This push for legislative change is not without precedent. Efforts to secure Welsh language rights in official documents stretch back decades. In 1999, Plaid Cymru peer Lord Dafydd Elis Thomas succeeded in passing a bill in the House of Lords, only for it to run out of time in the Commons. Further attempts were made in 2002 and again in 2009, the latter at the urging of the UK Labour Government, but none succeeded in becoming law. Despite the Welsh Language Act 1993 and the Welsh Language (Wales) Measure 2011 granting Welsh equal legal status with English, these rights have not been fully realized in the context of vital life documents.
The underlying infrastructure for bilingual certificates largely exists, according to Barros-Curtis; the forms and technology are already in place, meaning the transition would not require starting from scratch. He argues that the change is about dignity and identity, noting, “It matters because language is identity. In this regard it’s about dignity in life’s most important moments—when a child is born, when two people marry, and when a loved one passes away. To see those moments reflected in your own language is not an indulgence; it is a right.”
For Afryl Davies, the campaign is deeply personal, but she sees it as a fight for everyone in Wales—and beyond—who values the right to use their language at life’s most significant junctures. “Aled always passionately believed in the underdog and the people who weren’t heard, and he worked quietly and tirelessly for those people,” she said. “I am doing that now in his name, to honour his name. I know he would be behind me all the way because it’s just something that we feel we should have. It’s a right and I feel very passionately about it, and I’ll keep on fighting.”
As the debate continues in Parliament and across Welsh society, the outcome of this campaign could have lasting implications for the recognition of Welsh identity and the practical rights of Welsh speakers, ensuring that language is not just a matter of heritage, but of everyday dignity and respect.
