“I have so much bread on my back,” my mother told me one summer day as she looked at her reflection in the full length mirror in her bedroom. I was confused until I realised that she had mixed up the phrase "rolls of fat" with "bread rolls" and had come up with her own neologism that was a hybrid of both expressions.My mum’s first language is Urdu, so if she speaks in English it’s common for her to make funny mistakes. Urdu was the only language she used to communicate with my five siblings and I when we were growing up, meaning that we’re all fortunate enough to be bilingual adults. I’d say 99% of the conversations I have with my mum are in Urdu and it’s very rare that she’ll utter an entire sentence to me in English, even though she knows it well.When I recently heard David Cameron say that Muslim women and their children could be more susceptible to extremism if they’re unable to speak English, I found it both perplexing and upsetting. I stop reading or listening when articles and interviews contain words like counter extremism, integration, identity, Islam and Muslim women because I feel like they don’t mean much anymore. They’ve become buzzwords that are tossed into the same bowl of alphabet soup that I like to call the "Muslim Melange."It goes without saying that I agree that investing money and services in English classes for Muslim women is a wonderful initiative – it empowers and creates opportunity. It should be applauded and is essential for the reported 22% of Muslim women who speak little or no English . As Aisha Ali, a Pushto-speaking Muslim woman who came to the UK a year ago tells me, she wants to improve her English so she can “take her three girls shopping, pass her driving test and get a job."