Features

Advice my mother gave me, founding Sujatha Vidyalaya and a national honour

Published

3 years ago

2023/07/23

Thilina Walpola

Mother receiving the Deshabandu Award from His Excellency, J. R. Jayewardene, President of Sri Lanka

(Excerpted from Chosen Ground: the saga of Clara Motwani by Goolbai Gunasekera)

Mother had frequent staff meetings so that she could guide us in teaching methods to her liking. I give below some of her rules, which I now pass on to my own younger teachers at Asian International. What she taught then, holds good even now. And what did she teach me?

1. Begin all your classes standing. Never sit as you enter a class. You must dominate and show you mean business.

2. Do not talk too loudly. A teacher with too strong a voice will irritate pupils and they will begin tuning out.

3. “Always be perfectly turned out. (By this mother meant all-round neatness, not high fashion. One morning Mother was electrified to find Indrani Mendis, a former Games Captain just recently turned teacher, wearing a hipster sari. Indrani had a lovely figure and the hipster looked stunning. Nonetheless, Indrani will never forget what followed. Mother made her drape the sari all over again in her office with the minimum of bare skin showing. Nowadays I should think that would be considered an infringement of one’s personal rights! No one thought such traitorous thoughts then. Indrani now teaches at Asian International, and still has her good figure.)

4. Give your class one written assignment a week under test conditions. They must do the work in front of you, otherwise much of the work done at home will be actually their parents’ doing.

5. Corrections must be done within two days, or else a child will lose interest in the result of the assignment.

6. If a child is doing really badly all the time, try giving her a slightly better grade than she deserves. She will then make that better grade on her own the following time.

7. A child’s energy curve soars when praised. Try to do this more often than giving her a scolding which will probably have no effect.

8. If a class is noisy never say, “Don’t talk, class.” Pick out one of the children and say, “Don’t talk, Nimi.” The whole class will stop talking just to hear what you are going to say to that one child. It is a ploy I have often used.

9. If you do not know the answer to a question, never bluff. Tell the child you do not know, but you will look it up at home and tell her the following day.

10. Never try to fool a child. It cannot be done.

11. Be perfectly prepared before you attempt to take a class.

12. Never read from the textbook. You should know what is in it.

13. Give unexpected one-word answer tests. Children will never know when one is coming and will therefore listen all the time.

And so on. The list was even longer, but these are some that I remember. Certainly the teachers at BLC (Buddhis Ladies College) and I were highly successful, as our excellent results proved. My English Literature results at the O-Level were only rated ‘Most commendable’ in Mother’s parlance, while the word ‘Superb’ sprang to my own mind.

Teachers under Mother practically memorized their textbooks, as she had a disconcerting habit of turning up in classrooms with a deceptively kind smile saying:

“Now you just continue with your lesson, while I sit here quietly at the back and learn something new.”

None of us was fooled. It was a tactful way of checking whether we knew our texts or not.

‘One morning I was teaching Arthur Conan Doyle’s novel The White Company to the O-Level Literature class. It was the Government text for that year, and its plot is set in Europe, in the Middle Ages. Medieval History had been my forte at University, so while Mother sat calmly at the back of the room I wickedly switched the subject-matter of my lesson, and gave the students a little background history of the Middle Ages.

Most fascinating to girls of that age is the Droit de Seigneur, which literally meant that the nobility of Europe had the right to sleep with the wife of a tenant farmer on his wedding night. The all-girl class was somewhat shocked, very thrilled and full of questions.

Mother sat through it all and then left, saying, “An interesting lesson!” to me. A few minutes later her peon handed me a note which read: “See me when free.” I assumed I’d gone too far and resigned myself to a lecture. Obediently, I trotted off to her office to face the music. Mother was all smiles and for once, full of praise.

“That is one lesson the girls will never forget,” she told me. “Frankly, neither will I, but that is hardly relevant. What pleases me is that such a lesson may get them reading History on their own in search of equally strange facts. That was good teaching , darling.”

I walked on air the rest of the day.

My old schoolmate, Smith College-returned Susheela Paul, also a teacher with me at BLC, had her entire class gaining Distinctions and Credits at the O-Level in Botany one year. Mother’s paean of praise had Susheela quite overcome. Susheela married Chari de Silva (who eventually became Chairman of Aitken Spence) and stopped teaching to bring up her family. Strangely, Mother did not protest at losing her fine teacher. Mother always felt family life should come first. One morning Susheela came to school but asked for leave midway through the morning.

“Is it urgent?” Mother asked.

“Fairly,” Susheela had replied and went on to explain why she wanted the rest of the day off. Apparently Ladies’ College follows the custom of not releasing prize lists until the very morning of the prize giving itself. Susheela had just been informed that her little daughter, Sharmini (aged six or seven) had won the Form Prize. She therefore had just a few hours to rush home to get Sharmini into a starched uniform, white shoes and a red ribbon to match.

“Run along then, my dear,” Mother is supposed to have said, and congratulated Susheela on a clever daughter. I snorted angrily when Susheela gleefully reported all this to me. I was recalling Mother’s refusal to grant me similar privileges for any reason at all.

“No one must think I favour you, darling,” Mother said soothingly to me, as if any one would be that demented, seeing that I was the hardest worked teacher on her staff.

Although Mother’s contracts with the schools she headed always had a furlough clause written into them, she rarely took advantage of it, preferring instead to have my grandmother come to Sri Lanka. The result was that both my grandmother and my aunt Arline visited the island several times and made many friends here. They needed to do so if they wanted to see my busy Mother.

But now Mother needed a holiday. After ten years or so, BLC was doing very well indeed. Leaving me in charge of the school for six months, she departed for the US, not without much misgiving. Right up to the time she went through the Customs gates she continued to hand out advice to me on just about everything.

“I’ll manage, Mother,” I eventually told her in exasperation.

“Oh, I have no doubt at all that you will,” said Mother, proceeding nonetheless to prove that she didn’t believe it for a minute.

Disastrously for me, my more lenient approach to the length of school uniforms and generally relaxed administrative manner (I preferred to use the phrase ‘modern manner’) resulted in one of the senior students eloping with the Geography master. I did not have any desire to read Mother’s outraged letter to me more than once, and so I tore it up instantly. It was quite some time before Mother gave me so much responsibility again in subsequent schools, as her days at BLC were at an end – though at the time she did not know it.

Mother was expected to return to Colombo after about six months, but before she could do so a blaze of adverse publicity left Mother initially more puzzled than hurt. Religion was at the bottom of it all.

As a Theosophist, Mother had no difficulty in running Buddhist schools in the manner Buddhists wanted. She followed the philosophy, and was good friends with the Bhikkus of Vajiraramaya – notably Bhikku Narada and Bhikku Piyadassi.

She did not go to Church and make a display of her Christian beliefs. Neither was she a temple-goer. The only places of worship we visited as a family were the religious sites to which Father took us in India. In Sri Lanka we visited and worshipped at the Dalada Maligawa, the Madhu Church, the Nallur Temple (when we were in Jaffna), and at Kataragama when Father decided our souls needed a little burnishing.

The fact that Mother rarely went to Church was just that she had very little time for it when she first came to the island. Hers had not been a very church-going family back home in the States, in any case. Now, as she entered her fifties, Mother decided to take up the study of her own religion again. She was studying Islam at the same time, but no one talked about that.

In one of her regular letters to the Chairman of BLC, Mr. de Mel, she mentioned the fact that she was enjoying the Church services in her mother’s parish. Reacting as if he had been stung, Mr. de Mel told Mother that on no account would he tolerate a practising Christian at the head of a Buddhist school.

Mother might have mentioned that at that very moment Visakha Vidyalaya, a premier Buddhist school, was getting along very nicely with a Christian Principal at its helm, and no one seemed to mind. She was more puzzled than hurt by her Chairman’s dictum, especially because Buddhism was not a subject that was ever discussed between them. But her bewilderment soon turned to anger when she was told of the manner in which the news that she would not be returning was broken to students and staff of BLC.

Mr de Mel summoned the entire school to an assembly in the Hall. He then had a priest from the Vajiraramaya speak to the captive audience who sat silently aghast, while Mother was literally vilified in front of her pupils and her teachers for no reason other than that of going to Church.

Unfortunately, Bhikku Narada was not in the island at the time, and the priest who came to deliver this bombshell was not someone who should have been entrusted with this delicate and tricky situation. Quite unsuspecting of what was going to be said, I was in the Hall myself and heard, to my complete fury, this Bhikku speak against my Mother in the most unacceptable language possible. He spoke in Sinhala and a literal translation would make his words border on vulgarity.

I got up, and walked out of the Hall. The priest was by now in full spate and did not connect my exit with my Mother. He carried on. That evening my husband accompanied me when I visited the Vajiraramaya to personally tell the Bhikku what I thought of him.

To this day my respect for many priests remains low. The Bhikku concerned denied saying anything.

“I heard you myself,” I told him angrily.

“You must have misunderstood,” he replied blandly, not accepting any blame. “In any case, I was told to make sure nobody got upset that your mother was not returning.”

With the benefit of hindsight, I realized that Mr. de Mel had been trying to forestall a repetition of the Musaeus College walk-out. He need not have worried. Many years had passed since that time, and the situation was not the same. Mother was not in the island, and did not return until after my daughter Khulsum was born.

But what really made Mother wonder sometimes if her life’s work for the Buddhist girls of Sri Lanka had been worth the effort she put into it, was the behaviour of certain chauvinistic Buddhists who not only refused to speak to her, but also saw to it that the newspapers played up the story.

“Principal Sails Away,” ran one headline, while Letters to the Editor debated the issue endlessly. Close friends rallied to Mother’s defence. It deeply concerned Mother that I was left to face all this criticism alone. My sister would have done a far better job than I did of confronting those who chose to be judgemental. I was quite unable to think of suitable retorts to questions such as “Isn’t Buddhism good enough?” and other nasty little innuendos.

“Tell everyone Mother has returned to the religion of the Ancient Greeks,” Su said dismissively on the phone.

“The Olympian gods? That was hardly a religion.” “Exactly.”

“I can’t say that sort of thing,” I quavered.

“Try the Druids then,” she said unsympathetically, and rang off.

In the end, Mother herself took it all philosophically, in spite of pinpricks which were often more like stabs. It was a bad time for me in many ways. No one enjoys hearing things said about one’s parents, even when the matter was so trivial. My husband’s family rose nobly to Mother’s defence. They made the next few months bearable, for it was not pleasant to have one’s mother’s religious preferences debated by those who knew very little of the matter. The Gunasekara family are strong Buddhists. My sister-in-law, Lakshmini is a devout adherent, yet her sensivity in the handling of this entire episode, particularly of my wounded feelings, is something the Motwanis will never forget.

It was a matter of bad timing. Buddhists were becoming very protective of their faith, and Mother’s actions were taken as a kind of slur that they found hard to forgive. Yet there were those like Lakshmini who remained totally non-judgemental and accepted that religion is, after all, a private matter. Is it any wonder that she remains from then to now, my closest friend and confidant.

One hurtful incident involved a lady who had been one of Mother’s favourite pupils at Visakha. Lillian was a girl with no mother. Her father would, more often than not, delay to pay her hostel fees. Mother was very fond of Lillian and would often tell me what beautiful long hair she had. On Mother’s first furlough back to America (I was four years old at the time), Lillian was sitting for her Matriculation examination in Colombo.

Running true to form, Lillian’s father had not paid the fees and she was withdrawn from the exam. Hearing of this, Mother indignantly cabled the office and insisted that Lillian’s name be entered on the list of those being sent up. Lillian always remained a favourite with her, probably because she had no mother. When the Bandarawela evacuation began, Lillian was taken along in a student/teacher capacity, and Mother even arranged for her to be paid a small salary.

Yet Lillian did not repay Mother with loyalty … or even with sympathy. She was the first to be openly critical of her in public — and, of course, Mother was told of this, for there are always ‘friends’ who enjoy passing on hurtful gossip. That was one of the few times I have seen Mother weep. She smiled when she heard that well-known civil servants or other VIPs had not been at all kind, but Lillian (who was by worldly standards not a person of importance) … Lillian hurt her most of all. When Lillian died shortly afterwards of cancer, Mother wept again at her funeral. Less forgiving, I refused to accompany her to it.

When Mother’s old friend, Bhikku Narada of the Vajiraramaya, heard of the whole matter, he sent for me. I told him that I had vowed never to enter any temple again after my brush-up with the representative of his order, who had been so hurtfully libelous of my mother. But Mother visited him, and he was saddened that it could not have been he who had given that talk to the students of BLC.

Still, memories are very short. Within a year of returning to Sri Lanka, Mother was being asked to write a series of articles on education for the local papers. Everyone forgot about Mother’s religious preferences and she decided to return ‘home’ permanently and enjoy retirement with her newly born granddaughter, Khulsum, and us. She ignored my husband Bunchy’s sardonic smile at the word ‘retirement’. Surrounding herself with books, Scrabble boards and bridge-playing friends, she managed to get along nicely for two months.

She enjoyed all this, but it was not in Mother’s nature to ‘retire’ and not be actively engaged in more strenuous educational work. When she was approached by Mr. Linton Kuruppu, the owner of a small school in the suburbs, who asked,her to transform it into a bigger and better Colombo school, she accepted the challenge. Thus, Sujatha Vidyalaya opened its doors in the fashionable Queen’s Road area in Colombo 3, and has been very successful.

Becoming wealthy through education was something that never entered Mother’s head. If she had been business-minded, she might have had a clause written into her contracts which gave her a percentage of the profits of the new schools she started, because there were profits. Mother never knew what they were, because she left finances to the Board.

I always told her that she had no head for business at all, for the owners of the Buddhist Ladies College and Sujatha Vidyalaya certainly did not make any losses while she headed them. Mother’s reputation, her genuine love for her students, her care and concern for all aspects of education, made her a legend in her time. Her name was a magnet that drew pupils to any school she headed, and the many thousands of children who passed through her hands were proud to say: “Mrs. Motwani was our Principal.”

While she was at Sujatha, the President of Sri Lanka at the time was J.R. Jayewardene. He instituted a system of National Honours which gave national recognition to citizens who had ‘done the state some service’. Mother was on that first list of recipients, and was the first person to be honoured in the field of Education. I was standing by her when the call came from President’s House, asking if she would be willing to accept the Deshabandu Award for her services in the education of Buddhist girls in the island.

It took some time for the President’s secretary to make Mother understand she was the chosen one. Mother was essentially a very humble person. It never occurred to her that she was considered important enough for a National Honour. I was always so proud to be known as her daughter and often told her so.

“It’s nice you feel that way, darling,” she would say, not really understanding that she had an awesome reputation. My husband and I were invited to watch her receive her award from the President’s hands. It was the first and last time I had a meal at the President’s House and it was a memorable occasion. Making the day all that much nicer for Mother, was the fact that Dr. P.R. Anthonis was also a recipient of a national honour in the field of Medicine.

Just before I married, Mother had needed to have very serious stomach surgery due to strangulated intestines. Before she went into surgery, she made my father-in-law-to-be promise that if she died he

would ensure my marriage went ahead (if not the reception). He promised, and it was perhaps a premonition of a mishap that made Mother extract that promise, for in the course of surgery, Dr. Anthonis told me later, he almost lost her.

Dr Anthonis was the foremost surgeon of the time in Sri Lanka. He still is! His gentle manner and almost aesthetically sensitive looks had endeared him to Mother at once. They became good friends. When the time came for Mother to settle her hospital bill she noticed there was no surgery charge. She queried it, and was told by the office that Dr. Anthonis had said he could never charge someone who had been nothing but a boon to his country.

It was a tribute he would pay her on two more occasions when she needed his services again. And so it was with much pleasure that these two people who had done so much in their respective careers for the people of Sri Lanka sat down to lunch together at the President’s House at the Inauguration of the National Honours List. Mother’s Deshabandu Medal and the Certificate of Honour she received at the hands of the President of her adopted country, are now treasured family heirlooms.

All News Advertisement

Related Topics:Goolbai Gunasekera national honour Sujatha Vidyalaya

Up Next

New political direction and its impact on Economy

Don't Miss

1956, SWRD, Sir John, some ministers and drafting a Throne Speech on short order

Click to comment

Features

The 22nd Amendment, constitutional recovery and illiberal slippage

Published

15 hours ago

2026/09/28

Thilina Walpola

by Dinesha Samararatne
Professor, Dept. of Public & International Law, Faculty of Law of the University of Colombo
and was an independent member of Sri Lanka’s Constitutional Council (Jan. 2023 to Jan. 2026).

Sri Lanka’s political transition in 2024 was widely regarded as restoration of democracy, a reversal of authoritarian rule and an opportunity for constitutional recovery. The 22nd Amendment is the first constitutional amendment since this turning point. It 1) extends the age of retirement of the judges of the superior courts by two years, 2) expands the number of judges in the Court of Appeal by 4, and 3) introduces a cap of 6 years on the term of a Chief Justice. The expansion of the Court of Appeal is meant to facilitate the Court sitting outside of Colombo.

This Amendment is a stress-test on Sri Lanka’s democratic restoration as well as constitutional recovery. This Bill was published in the Gazette along with a proposed amendment to the Judicature Act of 1978, which sought to extend the age of retirement for the lower judiciary and to increase the number of judges of the High Court by 10. The enactment of the Amendment coincides with the completion of two years of this Government. Here, I offer a brief assessment of some of the key policy and constitutional issues involved.

Democratic Transition and Constitutional Recovery

There were many signs of a new lease of political life in Sri Lanka following the presidential election in 2024. Many politicians (of a certain kind) who sensed the change chose to not even contest the parliamentary elections. An Inspector General of Police (whose appointment itself was, at the time, under challenge) was impeached, and the political discourse seems to shift towards more democracy, transparency and accountability. The vigilance of the engaged citizen (as opposed to the mere voter) was evident in the pushback which led to the resignation of a Speaker as well as a Minister.

Some may say that these changes were too little and too late. After all, the Online Safety Act and the Prevention of Terrorism Act remain on our law books and we are still governed by an Executive President. Some others may argue that these are signs of a significant paradigm shift that is underway. Since 2025, the number of investigations, prosecutions and convictions related to bribery and corruption has been unprecedented, the President’s Fund is being accessed by people on the basis of financial need and there seems to be a change in the political culture. Whether these changes may be consolidated, it is too early to tell.

Policy and the 22nd Amendment

The 22nd Amendment to our Constitution suggests that political tactics familiar to the old order of things (to the extent that that order is in our past), are re-emerging. A proposal for a constitutional amendment which is piece-meal (with no convincing explanation for its selectivity), is published in the gazette without public consultation – not even consultations with relevant professional bodies – and is enacted without bi-partisan consensus. A recent example of a similar approach is the expansion of the number of judges in the Supreme Court and Court of Appeal by way of amendments at the Committee Stage of the 20th Amendment in 2020, with no transparency or consultation and with political justification post-Amendment. Many questions arise and remain unanswered. Among the many issues that plague our courts, on what basis were these issues prioritised for reform? As in the past, the process has been opaque and rushed. In turn this has led to polarised debates which carry the risk of compromising the confidence in the Government.

Laws delays, one of the stated concerns that the 22nd Amendment seeks to address, is at crisis levels in Sri Lanka. It is certainly a concern for citizens but it is a concern along with the extremely weak mechanism for legal aid, the lack of accessibility of court procedures and the difficulties we face for instance at a police station. We have a right to know why amidst all these serious and ubiquitous issues, the government prioritised constitutional reform in this selective manner. Constitutional reform must demonstrate a compelling link between the aspirations of the people for democracy, for human dignity and the flourishing of life. If the plight or aspirations of people are weaponised by political forces or elected representatives, we carry the burden of calling that out.

My own view is that a review of the age of retirement of judges is long overdue, but whether and how it ought to apply to sitting judges, carries the real or perceived risk of undermining the independence of the judiciary. Moreover, that is certainly not the only reform that is long overdue. The minimum criteria for the appointment of a judge to our superior courts is governed by convention (sometimes in the breach), not by law. In fact, the law does not lay down any criteria for appointment to our superior courts despite the Court’s assertion in its Determination on the 22nd Amendment bill that judges are appointed on merit, ‘competence and ability to work hard’ (p 87). While procedures and mechanisms are in place for disciplinary measures for the judiciary of lower courts, there is no such mechanism for the superior courts. The rules of the Constitutional Council (a matter that has been disputed in litigation) do not provide guidance on the process to be adopted for approval /disapproval of nominations made by the President to these courts. There is no judicial review of legislation in Sri Lanka. In fact, we are governed under a constitution that provides for the enactment of constitutional amendments or law reform that are inconsistent with the Constitution (with approval at a referendum). These are some aspects that require review and discussion in relation to the further improvement of the judicial branch of the state in Sri Lanka. Many of us consider these reforms not just important but also urgent.

Special Determinations and their Scope

Generally, after a Bill is placed in the Order Paper of Parliament, any citizen may challenge it before the Supreme Court and the Court communicates its determination to the President and to the Speaker within three weeks (Article 121). When a Bill proposes to amend the Constitution, it requires approval by 2/3 absolute majority in Parliament. Therefore, if a Bill is challenged, the Court has to determine whether it also requires approval by the people at a referendum. The approval of the people is required if the Court determines that the Bill or any of its clauses is inconsistent with the entrenched clauses of our Constitution listed in Article 83. There are 10 entrenched clauses in our Constitution including the clause on Buddhism and freedom from torture. These clauses may only be amended with 2/3 in Parliament and approval by the People.

The presentation of the Bill and proceedings before Court is a reminder, yet again, of the sheer inadequacy of the manner in which the Constitution is amended or how we engage in law reform. Within a matter of three weeks, the Supreme Court is required to exercise its ‘pre-enactment’ judicial review. In this case, 65 petitioners rushed to Court to challenge the 22A bill and eight others the amendment to the Judicature Act. The hearings are conducted under severe time-pressure, including, in this instance, without a right of reply for the petitioners to the submissions by the Attorney-General. In the proceedings related to pre-enactment review, I cannot help but notice the irony of the process. At least in theory, the Attorney-General is the guardian of the Constitution and, therefore, is required to act in trust, for the benefit of the People. In these hearings, however, the Attorney-General, by and large, presents and defends the policies of the government. In theory, the government represents the people. The petitioners, too, bring to Court the concerns of the people (to the extent that they are presented by the petitioners) through counsel who often appear pro-bono for them. One possible way out of this dilemma is to consider a possibility for the Attorney-General to participate in these proceedings on the basis of the Constitution and for the government to retain its own counsel to make submissions defending its policies.

Two Constitutional Issues

The Court was faced with two constitutional questions in hearing these petitions. First, whether the petitions required the full court to hear and determine the matter since the Bill involved the retirement age of the sitting judges as well. Second, the Court had to determine whether the proposed amendment had a negative impact on judicial independence, whether judicial independence was an aspect of the entrenched clauses of our Constitution and if both those questions were answered in the affirmative, whether the Bill required approval at a referendum. Previously, the Court has determined that in reviewing a Bill, Court will not inquire into the desirability of the proposed reform but limit itself to determining whether any clauses of a Bill are inconsistent with the entrenched clauses of Constitution and would therefore require approval by the people at a referendum.

Constituting the Bench

In the Supreme Court, benches ordinarily comprise three judges, and the Chief Justice is vested with discretion to constitute larger benches of five or more judges (Article 132). In ‘the opinion of the Chief Justice’ the question involved must be one of ‘general and public importance’. The decision to constitute a larger bench may be the Chief Justice’s decision, or on the request of at least two of the judges hearing the matter or at the request of a petitioner. In the Dissolution case (2018) the Chief Justice himself constituted a Bench of seven judges.

The Chief Justice had constituted a Bench of five judges to hear this matter, of different years of seniority in the Court. Court rejected the request for a full bench on the basis that the Bench did not have a conflict of interest and that a five-judge Bench was the appropriate use of the resources of the Court, particularly in light of the fact that the Court was due to hear petitions regarding another bill at the same time. For the first time, the Court comments on the administrative functions of the Chief Justice, the difficulties in case management under resource constraints and the internal procedures of a bench when dealing with a Special Determination. Ironically, this reminds us that for several months, the vacancies in the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal have remained while the President and the Government claim that they are committed to addressing laws delays.

Even if the Court had taken the view that there was a conflict of interest, as a matter of necessity, the Court had to make a determination on this Bill. The Court, in its wisdom, determined that a five-judge bench was constitutionally adequate. Yet, it could be argued, that in this context, a full bench or a fuller bench, would have satisfied all concerned that the Court had taken the maximum measures it could, to avoid any perceptions of a conflict of interest. That interest of the Court and of our constitutional system, arguably is constitutionally more important than ensuring efficiency in case-management.

The Bill and Independence of the Judiciary

The independence of the judiciary includes the following dimensions: personal and institutional; negative and positive; the actual and the perceived; and procedural and substantive. These dimensions require a principled assessment as well as a situated or contextual assessment.

‘Independence of the Judiciary’ is explicitly mentioned only twice in our Constitution: in the preamble, as part of our ‘intangible heritage’ which ‘guarantees’ our dignity and well-being and as the sub-heading for chapter XV of the Constitution. The independence of the judiciary, as part of our intangible heritage, has to be understood as a foundational constitutional concept and as a constitutional principle. In its operationalisation, the concept and the principle have to be interpreted and applied in context. This is where the contestations on the 22nd Amendment come alive. None of the entrenched clauses directly refers to the independence of the judiciary. However, in its recent jurisprudence, the Court has held that the independence of the judiciary has to be read into Article 3 of our Constitution, which is entrenched. Article 3 states that ‘sovereignty is in the People and is inalienable’ and further that our sovereignty includes ‘powers of government, fundamental rights and the franchise.’ In this Determination, Court endorses this interpretation.

The Court rightly notes that matters of policy are not reviewable by court except if such policies are vague or manifestly unreasonable. The Court determines that petitioners were wrong to argue that the extension of the age of retirement of the judiciary was an encroachment on the independence of the judiciary. Notably, the Court does not explain the independence of the judiciary as a constitutional concept except to note that the Constitution ‘guarantees that Judges will be able to make decisions free of influence and based only on relevant facts and law.’ (p 74). The Court further notes that while a reduction of the term or a reduction in the salaries of judges would undermine judicial independence, the increase of salaries of judges could hardly be considered as impacting judicial independence.

The Court considered several comparative examples in considering whether or not the extension of the age of retirement has been determined to have undermined the independence of the judiciary elsewhere. However, in each of those examples the broader constitutional context has a material bearing on the conclusions reached. In India, the selection of judges for appointment is through the Collegium System which comprises the judiciary. In the UK, the age of retirement was raised after extensive consultation between July – October 2020. As reported by the UK government, 1004 responses were received from the judiciary, the legal profession and other stakeholders. It is thereafter that the decision was implemented. It is relevant to note here that despite the lack of consultation, the lower judiciary and the Bar went on record opposing this Amendment.

In its wisdom, the Court agreed with the submissions made by the Attorney-General that since the extension of the age of retirement applied to all the judges, it was non-discriminatory and non-discretionary and therefore was ‘not at the whim and fancy of the Executive.’ (p 83) The Court reproduces a Note to the Cabinet (3 July 2026) which sets out the reasons for the Government’s policy decision. Notably, in a sector where no constitutional reforms have been made, except to require approval for appointments by the Constitutional Council, the Note provides no justification for selectively focusing on the age of retirement. The excerpts of the Note reproduced in the Determination make no reference to the other two reforms proposed.

The Social Justice Questions and Constitutionalism

For us, the constitutional questions have to be answered within the broader political context. From the citizen’s perspective, even the increase of the salaries of judges, if implemented under questionable, selective or opaque circumstances, can give rise to questions, concerns and a weakening of public confidence. Facts take colour from their context. This reminds me of another question on which there has been some debate in Sri Lanka, which is, whether Sri Lanka should establish a separate Constitutional Court which will adjudicate on constitutional matters thereby permitting a broader jurisdiction and mandate.

Some others have even described law as a colonial tool that has oppressed most in society. Some have argued that social justice requires that we marginalise or even dispense with commitments to liberal values such as rules of procedure and values of democracy such as diversity of opinion. That Sri Lankans have experienced exploitation, that democracy has been abused for state capture, through its Constitution and law, is true. As much as the law has been a tool for exploitation and abuse, it has also been a tool for liberation and social justice. Victims of human rights violations and abuse of law, often the vulnerable in our society, often have no recourse but the law. They seek it, even if to fail. Justice, too, is heavily contested and should remain so. Its meaning cannot be the monopoly of one social class, a political party or a ruling elite. At the same time, there ought to be commitments we can make as a polity to values, procedures and substantive outcomes that bring liberal commitments to rights and procedure with those of social justice. Furthermore, we must avoid the trap of romanticising ‘the people.’ We, the people, have actively sought and cultivated political patronage and participated in practices that undermine our common good, such as daily acts of violence, racism, patriarchy, corruption, abuse whether at home, at work or in the public domain.

Returning to the question of law, constitutions and justice, we should be vary of a ‘them vs us’ approach, particularly when they are propagated by those with political, cultural or economic power. The Constitution allows the Cabinet to place a bill before the People for their approval through a referendum (Article 120). Perhaps, taking this path, even if it carries a significant financial cost, may have allowed the government to put to rest the opposition to the 22nd Amendment. It is ironic that under a Constitution that declares the people to be sovereign, the only time a bill has been put to the people, was to postpone the exercise of their franchise (4th Amendment to the Constitution 1982).

Illiberal Slippage and/or Democratic Backsliding?

Serious issues of constitutional politics of this nature require that a strong government (which is what we have, with a charismatic leader and 2/3 in Parliament) is matched by a strong Opposition. What we have, instead, for the most part, are some politicians and political parties that have no credibility on matters related to the judiciary, mobilising against the government and claiming to defend the independence of the judiciary. While that tragi-comedy writes itself, we the citizens ought to be concerned about the lack of healthy political competition, an essential feature of a sustainable democracy and the disregard by the government of the reasonable voices within the Opposition.

Illiberal slippage or democratic backsliding has been identified as a risk for regimes that have led a transition to democracy. In a system headed by an Executive President, such a risk is all too real, as we know all too well. Ad hoc, piece-meal constitutional amendments of this nature place us on that path. In this political moment, many truths compete with each other. It is true that Sri Lanka made a distinct transition to democracy. It was made in stages starting from 2022. No single political party or social movement can claim that transition as their own. We cannot deny the organic dynamics of that transition. It is true that this transition has a class dimension to it. For certain, the political elite of the past enjoy diminished political capital and mileage, at least for now. The professional elite, depending on one’s perspective, too, arguably enjoy diminished traction. The ground beneath us is shifting. It is also true that within the limited electoral cycle, limited political capital, and in a context where former authoritarian forces remain electorally relevant, institutional reform is difficult. Situated in this broader context, there is cause for concern about the 22nd Amendment. It has weakened our transition to democracy and placed our constitutional recovery at risk.

(I write as an engaged citizen who studies constitutional law. The views expressed here are my own.)

Features

Why do students ‘fear’ algebra?

Published

15 hours ago

2026/09/28

Thilina Walpola

by R N A de Silva
rnades@gmail.com

“I was good with numbers and liked mathematics, but it changed when letters started to replace numbers”- such sentiments are common expressions that we hear. Perhaps the challenges that the students face in mathematics as a school subject are mainly due to the fear of algebra. For many students the transition into secondary education brings this profound sense of academic dread – algebra. This anxiety is more a structural byproduct of human minds adapt to radical shifts in thinking than a personal failure of the individual student. Many students who have been dealing only with numbers suddenly feel that they are in unfamiliar territory as they have to combine numbers with letters, symbols and rules. Dismantling this fear has to be done by the educators through reshaping how it is introduced and contextualised so that it becomes an accessible gateway of logical reasoning.

Let us look at the reasons for the development of the fear of algebra.

The Challenge of the ‘unknown’

In the first few years of formal schooling, mathematics becomes a tangible experience. They can count with their fingers or tools like counters and beads. They can measure lengths of tables or rooms or divide boxes or fruits into fractions. The operations are predictable and visible. There is stability in numbers as three is always a three. Algebra disrupts this stability. Letters such as x and y are introduced which do not possess fixed values. Suddenly, they are asked to manipulate symbols which they cannot physically see. This demand for abstract thinking can leave students bewildered. When a student enters this stage prematurely or without adequate background, the brain struggles to attach meaning to symbols.

Foundational gaps

As mathematics is uniquely sequential and cumulative, a weak grasp of basic skills may hinder progress in algebra. If a student leaves primary school with a shaky understanding of mathematical operations, it will be a disruption to their ability to follow algebraic steps. Solving an algebraic equation such as 3x – 2 = 10 consists of two levels of cognitive processing. Determining the properties applicable to isolate the variable requires higher order strategic thinking while executing the basic arithmetic operations requires lower order execution. If difficulties arise with lower order execution, they lose track of the broader algebraic strategy. Building confidence starts with consistent practice of foundational skills.

Fear of making mistakes

In general, a problem in algebra may involve a multi-step process unlike in a standard arithmetic problem. This increases the chances of making mistakes thus resulting in an incorrect final answer although the process is correct. Unfortunately, the traditional grading systems often rely heavily on the final result than the logical process. This can lead to an intense fear of failure. Subsequently, this threat of failure may turn into a highly stressful experience.

Now, let us consider strategies to eliminate or minimise the growth of the fear of algebra.

Using concrete examples to clarify abstract ideas

It is essential for teachers to use concrete examples to bridge the gap between simple mathematics and symbolic reasoning, rather than forcing students to jump to abstractness unassisted. A few examples are given below.

Solving an equation such as 3x + 10 = 100 can be introduced in the form of a story. ‘I went to a shop and gave the shopkeeper Rs 100 asking for three candies. He gave me three candies and also Rs 10 as balance. What is the price that I have paid for a candy?’ The gradual introduction of a variable will be made easier with such narratives.

Figure 1

Equations can also be framed as games of balancing on a scale to understand what you do to one side of the scale need to be done on the other side too to maintain balance. (See figure 1)

Factorisation is an area that many students struggle with. The need for a quadratic expression to be converted to a product can be shown through tiles that need to be fully covered in a rectangular area. Factors of X^2 + 5x + 6 can be manipulated with tiles as shown below to obtain the answer as (x + 3)(x + 2). (See figure 2)

Figure 2

With such demonstration, symbols lose their mystical quality.

Embrace mistakes as stepping stones

Errors should be treated as valuable diagnostic data by the teachers where the students are able to dissect where a problem went wrong. Creating a supportive learning environment that normalises mistakes as learning opportunities helps reduce anxiety and encourages persistence.

Assessment should also be done to reward logical reasoning and correct algebraic procedures without giving too much weight to minor arithmetical errors. Formative assessments need to be conducted regularly as algebra is introduced, before the students become overwhelmed by the complexities of cumulative assessments.

Connect with real life applications

Many students fail to see how algebra connects to everyday life, making it harder for them to stay motivated. Wherever possible, teachers can demonstrate practical uses of algebra such as tracking expenses to find the balance remaining after expenditure, estimating travel time or fuel consumption, use of recipes dealing with proportion, tiling the floor of a room and finding measurements for a scaled model of a building. Showing how algebra helps in designing games or solving real-world problems enhances interest and comprehension.

Algebra may feel intimidating at first, but it is an opportunity for students to sharpen their reasoning, resilience and problem-solving skills. When the anxiety is eliminated, algebra reveals itself as an extremely useful and elegant toolkit for problem solving. Using appropriate teaching methods algebra can be transformed from an intimidating barrier into a powerful bridge to intellectual exercise. “An ounce of algebra is worth a ton of verbal argument.” said John Haldane.

(The writer is a senior mathematics examiner of the International Baccalaureate Organisation)

Features

Two Badulla forests covering nearly 200 hectares gazetted as reserves

Published

15 hours ago

2026/09/28

Thilina Walpola

Badulla District

By Ifham Nizam

Two forest areas in the Badulla District — Mahiyanganaya Moopalana, covering 29.79 hectares, and Mahiyanganaya Heerussagala, covering 168.09 hectares — have been officially gazetted as forest reserves, bringing a combined 197.88 hectares of ecologically important land under formal protection.

The two forests, located in the Riddimaliyadda Divisional Secretariat Division within the Mahiyanganaya forest range, are dry-monsoon forests that provide habitats for a variety of native plant and animal species.

The declarations form part of the Government’s Vanaspathi forest conservation programme, under which 20 forests, covering a total of 9,538.68 hectares, across six districts, were granted protected status. The latest additions have taken the forest area, protected under the programme, to nearly 65,000 hectares, according to reports.

Environment Minister Dr. Dammika Patabendi and Deputy Minister Anton Jayakody were associated with the conservation programme.

Commenting on the significance of the declarations, Dr. Patabendi said the reserves are intended to deliver long-term environmental, ecological and social benefits.

“Through the declaration of these reserves, we aim to protect Sri Lanka’s biodiversity, safeguard water sources and watershed areas, create opportunities for eco-tourism, and preserve areas of archaeological importance found within these forests,” the Minister said.

Moopalana Forest

The 29.79-hectare Moopalana Forest is a dry-monsoon forest containing a range of natural resources and providing habitat for native species.

The forest is also linked to the livelihoods of surrounding rural communities. Local people obtain forest-based products such as rattan, veniwel and kitul, making the area significant, not only for biodiversity conservation, but also for traditional livelihood activities.

Several small waterways that become active during the rainy season are also found within the forest.

Heerussagala Forest

The larger 168.09-hectare Heerussagala Forest is likewise a dry-monsoon forest with important ecological resources and habitats for native flora and fauna.

The forest also has a direct connection with the local water system, with Nagadeepa Wewa being fed by the forest area.

Adding to its significance is the nearby Nagadeepa Temple, an area associated with archaeological value.

The protection of the forest, therefore, encompasses ecological, water-resource and cultural considerations.

The Ministry of Environment states that its broader approach to environmental management is based on sustainable natural-resource management, with government agencies, communities and other stakeholders participating in conservation efforts.

The gazetting of Moopalana and Heerussagala consequently places nearly 200 hectares of Badulla’s dry-monsoon forest under formal protection, strengthening the legal framework for conserving their biodiversity, water resources and associated cultural values.

The two forests are among 20 forest areas officially declared reserves in the latest phase of the Vanaspathi programme, which covers forests in Badulla, Anuradhapura, Ampara, Kegalle, Nuwara Eliya and Vavuniya.

For the communities surrounding these forests, their protection also represents the preservation of natural resources that support local livelihoods and water systems — while ensuring that these forest ecosystems remain part of Sri Lanka’s natural heritage for future generations, says Environment Ministry Consultant Dr. Ravindra Kariyawasam.