Features

Three generations share their experiences of menstruation

Published

2 years ago

2024/05/28

Priyan

Burkinabe grandmother Marie, 76, with her daughter, Aminata, 60, and teenage granddaughter, Nassiratou, 18 - known affectionately as Nassi - at home in west-central Burkina Faso [Plan International]

“When I was young, a girl who got her first period was scared and frightened,” Burkinabe grandmother Marie, 73, tells her daughter, Aminata, and teenage granddaughter, Nassiratou, 18 – who calls her grandma “Yaaba”.

The three women sit together beneath a tree in their village in west-central Burkina Faso, engaged in forming balls of seeds to make a condiment called soumbala. “The girl’s mother would give her a sheepskin to sleep on until the bleeding stopped,” confides Marie. “At that time, girls and women were isolated during their periods. They washed their sheepskin and protective cloths every day, which is why in the Moore language, we use the word ‘washing’ to refer to the time of menstruation.”

In Paraguay, 73-year-old grandmother Maria also shared her experience of periods with her daughter, Ester, 51, and 16-year-old granddaughter Alma, Ester’s niece. “We didn’t use to talk about it,” Maria says. “We, in secret, had to deal with it and there were no sanitary pads or anything. You had to use cloths, wash and iron them.”

[Photo: Plan International] — ***Maria, 73 (right), with her daughter, Ester, 51 (left), and granddaughter, Alma, 16 (centre) in Paraguay [Plan International]***

On any given day, in all corners of the world, about 300 million women and girls are having their periods, according to a report by a collection of non-governmental organisations (NGOs) advocating for investment in menstrual health.. At the same time, one in four lack access to menstrual health products or clean toilets reserved for girls, according to a report by the social change non-profit advisory group, FSG.

Some are forced to use materials such as old newspapers, rags, earth, sand, ash, grass or leaves to manage their periods – like grandmother Bui Non in Cambodia, who, as a young girl, used pieces of a sarong as makeshift sanitary towels. “I cut the fabric into pieces,” Bui Non, 57, says. “After a week, I buried or burnt those fabrics.”

Taboos, stigma and myths from long ago still abound in many rural communities around the world, with a culture of silence and shame often surrounding the issue of menstruation. Beninese grandmother Angel remembers how women in her day were not allowed to cook over a fire or serve food to their fathers if they were menstruating.

For Inna, a Togolese grandmother, things were even more challenging. “The family had to find a room on the roadside where the menstruating girl had to spend her entire period. Then, the family alerted the whole village.” Still, in many communities, girls are excluded from everyday life and opportunities, especially school, when they are on their period.

Nowadays, when girls are able to manage and talk about their periods, it is often down to longstanding community health projects working with girls and boys, women and men to encourage intergenerational dialogue to break down taboos and barriers about menstrual health. “It’s a matter of rights,” says Inna’s 16-year-old granddaughter, Denise, who – like all the teenagers in this article – participates in such a community project run by Plan International, a humanitarian organisation working to advance children’s rights and equality for girls in 80 countries around the world.

“Before, no head of the family would allow a discussion session like the one we’re having today about menstruation in his family,” agrees Aminata in Burkina Faso. “The change nowadays is clear.”

Marie, 76, in Burkina Faso, demonstrates the type of cloth she was forced to use as a young girl when she had her periods [Plan International]

In the past, women in Burkina Faso used a thick, traditional, cotton cloth called Faso Danfani to manage their periods, which, says 76-year-old grandmother, Marie, often caused irritation between the thighs. By the time her daughter Aminata got her period, a newer, cheaper industrial wax fabric was available. “Our mothers gave us pieces of cloth to protect ourselves,” explains Aminata, “and that was it; we didn’t talk about it any more.” At first, Aminata found talking about periods to her own daughter awkward – “because we were both ashamed”, she says, laughing. “Now, we still talk about it with a little embarrassment, but thanks to the awareness sessions, we’ve understood that menstruation is completely normal, and it’s important to talk about it.”

[Photo: Plan International/IssoEmmanuelBationo] — Aminata (right) says at first she was ashamed to discuss menstrual health with her teenage daughter, Nassiratou (left). Now, she realises menstruation is a natural process and ought to be openly discussed [Plan International]

As she speaks, Aminata is helping her daughter, Nassi, 18, who calls her “M’maa”, lift a large basket onto her head. It is not particularly heavy but Burkinabe women traditionally help each other put things on their heads, symbolising solidarity and togetherness.

“In my community, a woman on her period who takes proper precautions can do whatever she wants and go wherever she wants,” says Nassiratou. Not all the taboos have been lifted: “However, she shouldn’t cook for the Muslim fast, go to the mosque, touch the Quran, approach fetish altars, or touch certain traditional medicines.”

Nassi has her own toilet, and when she needs sanitary pads, she asks her mother for money to buy them. “Today’s discussion has brought me a lot, because it allowed me to travel through three generations – my grandmother’s, my mother’s, and mine. Before, I was ashamed to talk about periods with my mother, but now I’m comfortable. I can even talk about it with my grandmother!”

“When I was young, girls who were on their periods were not allowed to prepare or serve food to their fathers,” says Akoyiki. “That practice was known to everybody, and no girl would be accused of laziness or lack of respect for it.”

In the past, women in her village of Elavagnon in Togo used pieces of red cloth as sanitary pads, which were held in place by a string of pearls fastened around their waists.

“Once the cloth was nice and tight, we felt very comfortable,” says Assana’s mother, Gnoussiado. “In our time, a girl on her period could not be seen by, or interact with men, with the exception of her husband. The girl on her period was not allowed to go out as she pleased.”

Though Assana, 24, admits girls still get teased if they have a stain on their clothes, things have changed for the better. “We wear pants and bras. For our generation, we’re more comfortable thanks to disposable pads that can be bought everywhere. Even during our periods, we’re able to do any kind of activities without worrying too much.”

Teenager Blanche, 18 (pictured right), with her grandmother, Angel, 80 (centre), and her mother, Pierrette, 42 (left), both of whom Blanche calls ‘Dada’, at home in Benin. — Teenager Blanche, 18 (pictured right), with her grandmother, Angel, 80, (centre), and her mother, Pierrette, 42, (left), both of whom Blanche calls ‘Dada’, at home in Benin *[Plan International]*

“It was difficult for me during my periods because I was afraid of staining my uniform,” says Blanche, who attends a club in Benin run by Plan International, which teaches girls about menstrual health and encourages and facilitates intergenerational dialogue on the subject.

“My school didn’t have toilets adapted to the needs of girls, and I had to go home every time to freshen up. Several times I missed my lessons. The distance between the house and the school is not negligible, and it was difficult to commute each time.”

Grandmother Angel got her first period when she was 15. “I spoke to my mum about it straight away, and she got me a piece of loincloth. You hung the piece of cloth on a belt of pearls around your waist. We usually reinforced the filling with another one.”

[Photo: Plan International/IzlaBethdavid] — *Angel, 80, pictured with her granddaughter, Blanche, 18, in Benin [Plan International]*

When Angel was young, it was forbidden for girls on their period to prepare food for their father. “The fathers made spiritual amulets to protect themselves and their families, but these items lost their powers when they came into contact with menstruating women.

“Girls were also forbidden from handling fire during their periods – that is, cooking, because of the risk of bleeding too much. We were careful not to get too close to the fire, it was too strong. We were also careful not to eat too much sugar or fat.”

In contrast, Angel’s daughter, Pierrette, who is now 42, was allowed to cook for the whole family, though many myths remained, and she avoided going out during her period – often for practical reasons. “When I tried to walk a long distance, I got injuries between my thighs caused by the fabric padding rubbing against my skin, which was painful and very annoying.”

“We didn’t have sanitary pads in my day,” says Bui Non, 57, who lives in Cambodia, “so I cut fabric from a sarong into pieces. I washed them to reuse for only a week. After a week, I buried or burnt those fabrics – unlike now, where you can easily buy and use sanitary pads.”

“When my daughter had her period, I kept telling her to clean herself and use fabric as a pad. If she felt sick, I’d help by doing skin coining once per period – we rub balm into the chest, back and shoulders until red is seen. This could relieve the pain.”

“I didn’t have access to sanitary pads when I was Seila’s age,” says Sokna, 35, whose daughter is 13. “I used soft fabric by cutting a skirt, a sarong or shorts. The hard fabric could burn my thighs, making me feel uncomfortable and sweaty. I took a shower three times daily to feel fresh.”

Teenager Seila, pictured here picking yard long beans, learned about periods from different sources, including watching videos and reading posts online, as well as from her grandmother. “I feel comfortable discussing menstruation with my close friends, but I haven’t discussed menstruation with any male family members or friends yet. I feel embarrassed about it.” — *Seila, 13, picks beans near her home in Siem Reap province, Cambodia [Plan International]*

Teenager Seila learned about periods from different sources, including watching videos and reading posts online, as well as from her grandmother. “I feel comfortable discussing menstruation with my close friends, but I haven’t discussed menstruation with any male family members or friends yet. I feel embarrassed about it.”

Nigerian grandmother Rahamtatu, 58 – also known as “Kaka” in her family – says: “In the past, mothers were often afraid to tell fathers when their daughters were menstruating, because some fathers wouldn’t understand, and might even blame the girls for doing something wrong, as if we were chasing men and boys.

“Some husbands would even avoid their wives when they were menstruating. Some wouldn’t eat their wives’ food, but nowadays, husbands are more understanding. There’s still room for more awareness and acceptance, especially for the younger generation.”

“In my time, I couldn’t discuss my condition with anyone,” Kaka’s daughter, Sakina, says. “We had to wash the cloth we used, but nowadays, with the availability of sanitary pads, there’s no need for washing. They simply use and dispose of them, and this is a noticeable change.

Sakina’s daughter, Rahamatu, receives sanitary pads at school as part of a Plan International project. “Before, when girls got their period, we’d help each other out and use a clean cloth like our school head tie or wrapper,” says Rahamatu, who is a peer educator for the project, and visits other girls and their families to talk to them about menstruation.

“Some girls couldn’t attend school because of their periods, but thanks to the project, we got sanitary pads at school, which was a big deal. I’m much more confident talking about menstruation now. My friends are excited too.”

“So as not to suffer later, we couldn’t eat tomatoes, fish, eggs or lemons,” laughs grandmother Paz, 80, chatting at home with her granddaughter, Hazel, 18, and her daughter, Ana, 47, in Chalatenango, El Salvador. “After the period, yes, we could eat whatever we wanted. My mum used to tell me that I couldn’t go to the river because the water would enter through the pores and that was bad, so what you used to do was to use old clothes, cut them into strips, and fold them. After being used, they were burned.”

“The project was very impactful on my life as a girl,” says Hazel, a peer educator for Plan International’s project in Chalatenango called Power of Red Butterflies. “I was taught about my body, and they explained to me about my first period, my menstrual cycle and how to be prepared for that moment. We were a little group of girls, and it was very special, the trusting and sharing of ideas.”

Menstruation was long a taboo subject in this village in central Togo, where 16-year-old Denise, talking to her grandmother Inna, 72, whom she calls Dada, and her mum, Esther, 36, whom she calls Mon’do, takes part in a Plan International community education and awareness-raising project about menstrual health. The project tackles gender discrimination and stigma, and offers practical support for girls to access menstrual products.

“As the period approached, the girl had to prepare for it by secretly buying products like talcum powder, body ointment, and a comb,” explains Inna about life when she was a young girl. “On the first day of her period, we had to hide and call our mother or one of our sisters to help in secret. It was forbidden to enter the house.

In her day, Inna would wear pieces of cloth wound around beads as a sanitary pad. “For four days, from morning to night, the village brought food to the girl out of goodwill. Children came to spend time with the girl. During the day, all the girls of menstruation age would go to the river and bring water for her. In the evenings, girls and boys would visit her and pass the time talking, eating, singing and having fun with her.

“Men and boys, even if they were your brothers, were not supposed to see menstruation cloths. It was forbidden, and we carefully hid them.”

A ceremonial laundry session would mark the end of the girl’s period, and, with her friends, the girl would cover herself with talcum powder to re-enter the village. “Among the group, some of the older ones tried to escape from the rule,” laughs Inna. “We had to run after them to make sure everyone got the talcum powder.

“Back home, the family of the girl brought us white rice with peanut sauce, and every girl who’d been to the river would bring a bowl from her house to get rice, and drink. On the fifth day, the girl who’d finished her period took a good bath, wore beautiful traditional cloths and pretty beads.”

“I understand that my mother’s generation suffered a lot,” says teenager Denise. “For me, if I don’t have enough money for pads, I buy a few of these reusable sanitary napkins, which I can wash and dry in the sun when necessary. My wish is that the price of reusable pads be reduced. They’re too expensive.”

In Nairobi, Kenya, Faulat, 21, calls her grandmother, Halima, 58, “Shosho”. “In the olden days, periods were shameful,” says Halima. “A girl would lock herself in for days without going to school, until it was over.

“The modern children are hard-headed. There is a difference. They just do not care during their periods. They do not respect their cycle as we used to. We were very secretive about it, unlike them.”

“During our time, we were also ashamed,” says Faulat’s mum, Deiya. “You couldn’t even pass near a boyfriend. Nowadays, this generation doesn’t take it as a big issue. It’s seen as something very normal. But for me, when I’m on my periods, I don’t like it. I’d rather relax and stay at home.”

[Photo: Plan International/LorenzoMaccotta] — *Faulat, 21. ‘She really cried,’ her mum, Deiya, says when Faulat got her first period [Plan International]*

Faulat’s mum was able to support her when she got her first period. “She really cried,” admits Deiya, “but we sat her down and talked to her, and she got to understand, but she was still afraid.”

“It caught me off guard,” admits Faulat. “I wasn’t prepared. It came just like a sickness.”

In 2020, having had a difficult time coping with her periods, Faulat joined Kibera Joy, a Plan International partnership which supports girls with information, and sanitary pads. “It’s very open and you’re told things openly,” says Faulat. “Before, I used to buy sanitary towels, but sometimes my mother didn’t have the means, and she’d tell me to use pieces of cloth. At Kibera Joy, you may go for the pads at any time you wish.”

(Aljazeera)

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Related Topics:Benin Burkina Faso Cambodia El Salvador Kenya Menstruation Nairobi Nigeria Paraguay Plan International Power of Red Butterflies Togo

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Coercive laws recipe for future misrule

Published

10 hours ago

2026/10/13

Sahan Weerasooriya

by Jehan Perera

The NPP government is going after powerful figures from the past and present who have engaged in corruption, fraud and criminal activity in a way that no previous government in Sri Lanka has done. Former ministers, politicians and senior state officials are among those facing investigations and legal proceedings. The government has placed before Parliament a document listing 50 cases involving corruption, fraud and other crimes. These include not only financial offences but also cases relating to the Easter Sunday attacks, the killings of Lasantha Wickrematunge and Wasim Thajudeen, the disappearance of Prageeth Ekneligoda and attacks on journalists Keith Noyahr and Upali Tennakoon.

The significance of this effort is that it can demonstrate that nobody is above the law, regardless of political connections or social standing, which will help restore public confidence in institutions that have long been distrusted. It could also recover public resources, improve the investment climate and strengthen the foundations for a more prosperous and just Sri Lanka. When criticised for focusing on the past and not the present, the government position is that these investigations were initiated under earlier governments, particularly between 2015 and 2019, and that it is now allowing investigators to proceed to deal with the backlog without political interference.

But there is an aspect of the government’s approach that is less justifiable. While pursuing past wrongdoing by powerful individuals, it is also advancing a triumvirate of draft laws that could give the state sweeping powers over citizens, organisations and dissent in the present and future. The draft Prevention of Terrorism legislation, the Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill and the NGO Registration and Supervision Bill raise serious questions about the over-centralisation of power. Each of these laws strengthens the powers of the state while weakening the rights and safeguards that protect people from their misuse and thus questions the basic rights of people in democracy where ‘the power of the people is vested in the government’. This is a recipe for future misrule rather than the rule of law. As the well-known saying goes, power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Proposed Laws

The real test of system change, for which the government obtained an overwhelming mandate, requires not only a government willing to hold others accountable, but one prepared to subject itself to the same principles of legality, transparency and restraint. The three proposed laws that are particularly important in this regard are the Protection of the State from Terrorism Bill, the Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill and the NGO Registration and Supervision Bill. Each of these draft laws has been presented as serving a legitimate purpose. Preventing terrorism, combating organised crime and ensuring that NGOs do not facilitate money laundering or terrorist financing are proper responsibilities of the state. Sri Lanka has international obligations in these areas, and no responsible government can disregard them. However, the existence of a legitimate objective does not justify every means adopted to achieve it.

The proposed Protection of the State from Terrorism Bill illustrates the problem. Although its definition of terrorism draws on a model developed by a former United Nations Special Rapporteur, the Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka has warned that the definition of terrorism extends beyond the model and could bring legitimate political protest, trade union action and civil disobedience within the scope of counter-terrorism legislation. Its concerns also include prolonged detention, inadequate judicial oversight and restrictions on access to legal counsel. These are objections that go to the heart of the relationship between the citizen and the state. The government cannot credibly promise to protect democratic freedoms while creating powers that could be used to restrict them. It is necessary for the government to reassess the draft through transparent consultation and revise provisions that could criminalise legitimate dissent.

The Prevention of Organised Crimes Bill raises similar concerns. It is presented as giving effect to the United Nations Convention against Transnational Organised Crime, which Sri Lanka ratified in 2006. The Centre for Policy Alternatives (CPA) has argued that the convention does not require many of the bill’s provisions. The proposed law extends to a broad range of offences, permits detention orders lasting up to a year, makes confessions to police admissible for purposes of legal evidence, and introduces extensive surveillance powers. A law intended to dismantle criminal networks should not create a parallel system of exceptional powers that could be applied far beyond organised crime. Nor should safeguards developed through years of experience with abuses under the Prevention of Terrorism Act be weakened through legislation bearing a different name. The government should review whether or not existing laws could be used effectively to control these crimes or whether each exceptional power is necessary.

Civil Society

The proposed NGO Registration and Supervision Bill presents another test of the government’s intentions. The government may reasonably seek transparency in the finances of organisations receiving public or foreign funds, including measures to prevent money laundering and terrorist financing. It seeks to justify its overreach on the grounds of meeting the internationally mandated requirements of the Financial Action Task Force (FATF) for the Asia-Pacific region. But these objectives do not justify placing civil society and NGOs under excessive administrative control when even the FATF ranks them as low to medium risks. The draft bill would require registration and renewal, impose extensive obligations on organisations and empower authorities to suspend or deregister them on broadly framed grounds. It is important to redraft provisions that confer excessive discretion over registration, renewal, suspension and deregistration of NGOs.

Among the concerns raised by United Nations human rights special rapporteurs with regard to the draft NGO law are provisions requiring organisations to align with government policies and restrictions that could affect advocacy, dissent and freedom of association. The implications extend well beyond organisations that engage directly with the government. Community groups, human rights organisations, independent researchers and organisations working on reconciliation or accountability could find their activities constrained by uncertainty over how these provisions might be interpreted. Organisations that criticise government policies are not thereby working against the country. Their freedom to do so is part of what distinguishes a democracy from a system in which the government determines which opinions and activities are acceptable.

The government has generated considerable public goodwill through its pursuit of corruption and criminality. It should not assume that this goodwill gives it an unlimited mandate to strengthen the coercive powers of the state. The NPP knows from its own history that governments can treat dissent as a threat and use the machinery of the state against their opponents. There is still time to correct the drafts through transparent public consultation, narrow definitions of offences, meaningful judicial control over detention and surveillance, and effective remedies against arbitrary decisions. A government that pursues corruption while weakening safeguards against state abuse risks undermining its own achievements. Besides bringing to light the abuse of power by previous governments, the NPP government needs to build a system in which no future government can abuse power in the belief they can get away with it.

Features

Quality assurance without quality enhancement: The irony of university QA

Published

10 hours ago

2026/10/13

Sahan Weerasooriya

By Ramya Kumar

According to the Quality Assurance Council (QAC) of the University Grants Commission (UGC), quality assurance (QA) refers to “the means (i.e. the policies, attitudes, actions, procedures, etc.), by which an institution can guarantee with confidence and certainty, that the standards and quality of its educational provision are being maintained and enhanced”.

An expansive structure has been in place since 2005 to govern and implement QA processes within the state university system. The QAC is the focal point at the UGC that implements external reviews of state universities and institutes. Each university has its own Centre for Quality Assurance (CQA) tasked with performing QA in line with QAC directives. Faculties, in turn, have Internal Quality Assurance Cells (IQAC) performing their own QA; they are answerable to the CQA.

The big question is whether this all-encompassing top-down QA system, that in many ways undermines the internal dynamics of university governance, actually supports universities to enhance the quality of education. This article highlights some concerns.

Top-down check-box activities

The QAC conducts external reviews of universities and degree programmes. A review team appointed by the UGC (who may or may not have experience in the institution/programme in question) examines the self-evaluation report submitted by the said institution/programme. The team then conducts a site visit to verify the claims made in the university’s self-evaluation report, clarify issues identified during the desk review, and examine how QA procedures operate in practice. The team holds meetings with the university administration, members of the Council and Senate, Deans, Heads of Departments, academic and non-academic staff, students, and others. Following the visit, a draft report is submitted to the relevant institution/programme for comment before final publication. The reviewed institution/programme then prepares and publishes an action plan addressing the recommendations, with subsequent monitoring of progress.

There are some worthy QA initiatives under implementation, such as improving facilities for students with disabilities and strengthening mechanisms to address sexual- and gender-based violence. However, for the most part, QA activities have little to do with improving the quality of education. They are mostly preoccupied with monitoring faculty and department websites, digital transformation, student feedback, subject evaluation, course evaluation, peer evaluation, and, more recently, staff appraisal. These activities, which consume an inordinate amount of time—so precious at understaffed universities—have become check-box activities completed to generate evidence for the next review. Below is an excerpt of a conversation between two academics (1 and 2) that conveys how QA plays out at universities (reproduced with permission).

1: … .it’s like social media you know, like posting things on Facebook or twitter or Instagram. When people do a lot of social media, everything they do, they do thinking, “okay I’m going to post it in this way… this I have to put on my Instagram.” QA is a little like that… everything is considered in light of, “ah we can use this for the review, as evidence… for example very recently we were encouraged to have all the things that we do in our department in the faculty newsletter so then they can put in the review. Every little thing has to be noted down….

2: And with pictures and all…

1: At the very least it has to be written so that you have written evidence .. you can’t be doing something for the sake of doing something or because it is good for the department … and sometimes people tell me “oh yea that’s a good idea we can fit that under this x, y section of the review..”

2: Yea, and nobody really thinks about the actual outcome… whether it’s actually helping anyone..

1: I also find that a lot of the words that we used in different ways have now been co-opted to the QA discourse ..including quality.. I can’t actually say what I want as an “outcome”, for example, that the outcome of this workshop is that my students “think about” … then I am told “ah but no that’s not one of the Bloom’s taxonomy words, “think about”.…

2: And the worst part is these medical and agriculture people, these types of people go around spreading it like some kind of gospel!

1: Yea, this cookie cutter way of doing things, they think is the height of innovativeness or creativity, when actually it is so mundane … for me the most awful thing about it is like some fungus of mundanity has taken over through QA reviews.

2: yea, when you say QA, my mind closes off immediately and I stop listening…

Auditing everything but power

QA leaves out crucial aspects of university governance. For instance, there is no review or assessment of the “quality” of university administrations under Criterion 1 or the integrity of procedures governing the promotion of academic staff under Criterion 6 of the institutional reviews.

The majority in the Council—the university’s executive and governing body, which is responsible for selecting the Vice-Chancellor (VC)—are appointed in ad hoc fashion. Apart from the Ex-Officio members in the Council (VC, Deans, etc.), and the two members elected by the Senate, the remainder are appointed by the UGC with no formal consultation or vetting procedure. The VC appointment process described in UGC Circular No. 03/2023 exemplifies how an ostensibly technical process can become entangled in political sycophancy. The Registrar invites applications for the position of VC through advertisement. Applicants must submit a curriculum vitae, a statement of vision for the university and supporting documents. The University Council appoints a three-member Search Committee of senior academics to encourage “eminent persons” to apply, while the UGC appoints a former VC from another university to “observe” the selection process.

A Special Meeting of the University Council is convened. Candidates are interviewed and must make a presentation to the Council Members, followed by questions. Each Council member “gives marks” for seven prescribed criteria: strategic focus (20%), effective leadership (20%), holistic thinking/conceptual skills (10%), academic and research excellence (15%), personal integrity (10%), professional communication (10%) and managerial competence (15%). Marks are averaged, and the Council recommends three candidates to the UGC in rank order. The UGC-appointed observer separately submits a confidential report on the selection process.

This procedure is expected to guarantee quality, but does it? Applications are submitted to the Council Members, who have been appointed on questionable bases, and who are expected to review the applications and give scores, based on objective assessments. But, in reality, most Council Members are manipulated by VC candidates, who often have personal ties with them. The UGC-appointed observer usually has no genuine interest in the outcome. And there is no way for anyone to actually question the Council’s decision once it is made. Although the highest-ranked candidate may ultimately be appointed, the selection remains a political decision made by the President, who retains the discretion to appoint any one of the three.

External reviews also do not look into the promotions of academic staff, except to scrutinise whether there are policies and procedures in place to govern promotion. Academic staff may apply for promotion to Professor once they satisfy the prescribed eligibility requirements, which typically include the period of service, academic qualifications, research and publication achievements, teaching experience, and contributions to the university and wider community. Applications are evaluated against specified criteria, with research output and academic contributions assessed through documentary evidence and expert evaluation. Under the UGC’s scheme for Professors, two experts from outside the applicant’s institution assess specified aspects of research and knowledge dissemination. Again, beneath this technical process, which is externally evaluated, lies a problematic points-based scheme that can be manipulated and abused with impunity.

Rethinking university QA

Like the VC election process and the schemes of promotion for academic staff, QA reviews are open to manipulation. Before a review, there is a chaotic rush to complete evidence gathering and reporting. Academics leave all other work aside, including at times their teaching, to focus on completing documentation and preparing reports. The standardised criteria in the review manuals and scoring sheets often do not reflect differences in disciplines and institutional contexts. But this does not really matter because any serious problems experienced by institutions or programmes are hastily brushed under the carpet to conceal any evidence that could taint the review. The goal is to obtain an A or at least a B grade at whatever cost.

QA may result in positive change if it moves beyond top-down check-box activities towards internally designed and owned processes encompassing all aspects of university governance, led by departments and faculties, and supported by adequate resources. The current QA system needs to be dismantled and replaced by procedures that are accountable, not to the UGC, but to our students and the communities we serve.

(Ramya Kumar is attached to the Department of Community and Family Medicine, Faculty of Medicine, University of Jaffna)

. Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.

Features

Down Memory Lane — the Grand 20th Edition!

Published

10 hours ago

2026/10/13

Sahan Weerasooriya

Down Memory Lane: Ready to sing again

Yes, Down Memory Lane, the beloved Sing-Along concert series that first struck a chord, way back in 1997, returns for its landmark 20th edition this Saturday, 17th October, at the beautiful Bolgoda Grand Resort, Moratuwa town centre.

Having celebrated its glorious 25th anniversary with the show in 2023, this milestone 20th concert promises to be even more special.

The organisers, the ever-popular Moratuwa Arts Forum, are pulling out all the stops to present yet another unforgettable evening, brimming with camaraderie, fellowship, and pure nostalgia.

Get ready for two-and-a-half hours of non-stop singing as veteran vocalists, from the Moratuwa Arts Forum, will take the stage to lead and inspire the happy audience to sing, sing and sing to their hearts’ content.

The repertoire? Absolutely magical, according to the organisers.

Veteran Arun Dias Bandaranaike: Will handle the evening’s proceedings / Priya Peiris: Event Conceptor

Around 40 golden oldies — from timeless English vintage evergreens and hits from the 50s to the 90s, to toe-tapping calypsos, soulful American plantation melodies, rousing cowboy and Dixieland favourites, aa well as cherished Sinhala standards. All to be sung with much gusto!

This year’s dedicated organising committee comprises Brian Coorey (Chairman), Priya Peiris (Event Conceptor), Hiran Fernando, Suranga Fernando, Viranjan Perera, Hemka Fernando and Neelesh Silva. Guidance and support comes from Moratuwa Arts Forum President Sarana Guneratne and Secretary Chandani Silva.

Adding his signature charm to the evening, as Master of Ceremonies, will be the veteran Arun Dias Bandaranaike.

Don’t miss this landmark celebration of music and memories!

For further details, contact Hiran Fernando on 0772636446 or WhatsApp 0783636446.