Midweek Review

What is the problem in Sri Lanka’s school education system?

Published

1 year ago

2025/08/6

Despite Sri Lanka’s longstanding commitment to free education and its commendable literacy rates, the country’s school education system remains deeply burdened by structural inequities and regional disparities. The recent policy proposal by the Ministry of Education, to replace the traditional examination-based model with a modular system of evaluation, at least for grade 5 exam, claims to promote continuous learning, interdisciplinary flexibility,

and reduced academic pressur. Yet, this reform fails to confront the more entrenched and complex challenges that have long undermined educational equity across the country. To borrow from a Sinhala idiom, the shift is like trading ginger for chili: a seemingly flavorful alternative that, in practice, introduces new discomforts without alleviating the old. While modular evaluation involves assessing students at the conclusion ofeach discrete unit through assignments, tests, or practicals, aligned with global trends in credit-based education, its uncritical adoption reveals a narrow understanding of Sri Lanka’s educational terrain.

The deeper issue lies in the system’s stark inequalities between urban, rural, and estate sector schools. Urban institutions, particularly those concentrated in the Western Province, enjoy relatively advanced infrastructure, qualified teachers, and digital connectivity. In contrast, rural and estate schools often operate with skeletal resources and minimal access to technology, reinforcing a cycle of disadvantage. Data from the 2023 GCE Ordinary Level (O/L) exam illustrate this divide: over 65% of students in Colombo qualified for Advanced Level (A/L) studies, while qualification rates in districts like Monaragala and Mullaitivu hovered below 40%. Estate schools, many of which serve fewer than 100 students, face even more severe challenges. (See Table 1)

These numbers are drawn from the Department of Examinations’ official performance tables, with cross-verification from Gazette.lk’s statistical summary and TamilGuru.lk’s district-level analysis.

Why these numbers matter

Colombo’s 65.2% reflects a concentration of national and semi-national schools with better infrastructure and teacher availability. Monaragala and Mullaitivu, despite improvements, still lag due to resource constraints and lower school density. The figure for Nuwara Eliya is particularly affected by estate sector schools, where dropout rates and language barriers remain significant.

Compounding the issue is the digital divide showing that internet access at home exceeds 60% in urban areas but plummets to 20.2% in rural regions and below 5% in the estate sector. Computer ownership mirrors this pattern, with urban rates at 34%, rural at 18.1%, and estate sector at a mere 4.6%. Teacher-to-student ratios are similarly skewed, though the national average is around 17:1, urban schools report ratios near 22:1, while rural and estate schools exceed 35:1, particularly in critical subjects like English, ICT, and Science.Over 40% of rural schools lack qualified teachers in these subjects, and many teachers remainuntrained in both the new curricula and basic digital tools. (See Table 2)

While modular evaluation may be appropriate for tertiary institutions using outcome-based models like the Sri Lankan Credit and Qualifications Framework (SLCQF), its translation into the school system is fraught with risks. It is particularly susceptible to amplifying existing inequalities. In affluent urban schools, modular assessments often shift academic responsibility onto parents, many of whom are better equipped, socially, financially, and educationally, to assist with complex assignments. Such dynamics could spawn a burgeoning parallel market of paid academic support, further advantaging those already privileged and undermining the system’s integrity.

Structural Inequities and Sociocultural Disparities in Educational Opportunity

A central driver of educational inequality in Sri Lanka is the pronounced divide in access and opportunity between urban and rural regions. National schools located in urban centers are typically better funded and resourced, attracting a disproportionate number of qualified teachers and offering enriched learning environments. In contrast, provincial schools, especially those situated in rural and estate sectors grapple with chronic teacher shortages, dilapidated infrastructure, and limited access to basic learning tools such as libraries, laboratories, and digital technologies. This disparity translates into marked differences in educational quality and outcomes, significantly constraining the academic progression and life prospects of students from underprivileged communities.

Socioeconomic hardship further entrenches these challenges. Poverty compels many children from low-income families to discontinue their education prematurely, either because their labor is needed to support household survival or due to the unaffordability of seemingly minor but essential school-related expenses, such as uniforms, stationery, or transportation. Additionally, private tutoring, a widely adopted practice in Sri Lanka to reinforce classroom instruction and boost examination performance, remains inaccessible to many marginalized students, thus widening the achievement gap.

While Sri Lanka boasts high levels of female literacy, nuanced gender disparities persist. Research suggests that girls often outperform boys in school examinations and university enrolment, and in some cases, families invest more heavily in their daughters’ education (Himaz & Aturupane, 2021). Yet, this apparent advantage does not always translate into equitable outcomes in the labour market. Women continue to face structural barriers shaped by entrenched cultural expectations and biases, limiting their post-educational opportunities and upward mobility.

Ethnic disparities compound the picture of educational exclusion. Minority groups, particularly Tamils, have historically encountered systemic discrimination in access to quality schooling and representation within state institutions. Past language policies, which resulted in the segregation of schools along linguistic lines, have deepened interethnic divides and limited avenues for inclusive learning and social cohesion. These legacies continue to influence both the structure and lived experience of education in Sri Lanka, demanding reforms that extend beyond technical curriculum adjustments to address long-standing social and cultural inequities.

Institutional Stratification and Reform Challenges in Sri Lanka’s School System

Compounding the geographical and socioeconomic disparities in Sri Lanka’s education landscape are the systemic structures embedded within the schooling apparatus itself. The division of schools into national and provincial categories with significant variation in funding, staffing, and resource allocation has led to an entrenched stratification of educational quality. National schools, often located in urban centers, benefit from centralized investment, superior infrastructure, and greater administrative autonomy. Meanwhile, provincial schools, particularly those in underserved rural and estate regions, struggle to meet even the most basic standards, deepening the gulf in learning outcomes and institutional capacity.

This structural imbalance is further amplified by the highly competitive nature of the system, most notably through the Grade 5 scholarship examination. Intended as a meritocratic mechanism to identify and support academically promising students, the exam in practice exerts severe psychological and financial pressure on children and their families. Those with access to private tutoring and other forms of educational support are disproportionately favoured, while students from lower-income households face significant barriers to success. The examination culture thus reinforces privilege rather than disrupting it, exacerbating the already unequal terrain.

The contradiction between widespread qualification rates and limited higher education access is another fault line. Although a considerable proportion of students meet the criteria for university entrance, only a small fraction secures placements in state universities exposing the yawning gap between aspiration and opportunity. The bottleneck reflects both limited institutional capacity and inadequate investment in expanding higher education infrastructure. As a result, students, especially from peripheral regions, are often funnelled into vocational tracks or left without viable post-secondary options.

These limitations are compounded by a misalignment between educational content and labour market demands. Many schools, particularly outside major urban centres, lack the facilities and pedagogical frameworks necessary to cultivate practical, market-relevant skills. The emphasis on rote learning and theoretical knowledge, divorced from experiential engagement, leaves graduates ill-prepared for the evolving demands of the contemporary economy.

To its credit, Sri Lanka has launched reform efforts aimed at ameliorating these disparities. Initiatives such as school clustering, designed to foster resource-sharing among neighbouring institutions, and digitalization programs to expand access to learning technologies signal a recognition of systemic shortcomings. Targeted interventions for disadvantaged students have also emerged, seeking to redress inequities through focused policy design.

Yet these reforms face substantial implementation barriers. Resistance from entrenched institutional actors, uneven resource distribution, and the enduring grip of socioeconomic and cultural hierarchies all threaten to undermine transformative potential. Achieving genuine equity requires not merely technical adjustments, but a fundamental reimagining of how education is conceived, delivered, and valued across Sri Lanka’s diverse regions. It demands a sustained commitment to dismantling inherited structures of exclusion and fostering inclusive environments where every child, regardless of location or social background, can thrive, academically, socially, and professionally.

Unequal Resource Distribution and the Digital Divide

A cornerstone of Sri Lanka’s educational inequity lies in the uneven distribution of qualified teachers, a disparity that mirrors broader structural imbalances across the system. Urban schools, bolstered by better living conditions, professional networks, and career growth opportunities, tend to attract more experienced and subject-specialised educators. In contrast, rural and estate schools frequently operate with skeletal teaching staff, many of whom lack formal training in essential subjects such as English, Science, and ICT. This inequitable allocation of human resources directly impairs the depth and rigor of instruction available to students outside urban centers, limiting their academic preparedness and narrowing their future options.

Beyond personnel, the infrastructural divide is equally stark. Urban schools typically benefit from modern classrooms, well-stocked libraries, functional laboratories, and reliable access to digital technology, all of which foster dynamic and engaging learning environments. Meanwhile, many rural schools lack basic amenities, including dependable electricity, sufficient classroom space, and updated learning materials. These deficits obstruct the adoption of contemporary teaching methodologies and restrict hands-on experiences crucial to conceptual understanding. For instance, the absence of functioning science labs in rural settings means students must rely solely on abstract instruction, whereas their urban counterparts can engage directly with experimental learning, reinforcing not only conceptual clarity but also critical thinking.

The digital divide further exacerbates these disparities. Urban students often enjoy access to personal computers, stable internet connections, and digital learning platforms, enabling them to cultivate digital literacy and explore vast educational resources. Rural students, however, contend with limited device availability, erratic internet infrastructure, and low levels of digital proficiency. This technological asymmetry became glaringly apparent during the COVID-19 pandemic, when remote learning became the norm. Students in rural areas, already marginalized, faced acute barriers to participation, deepening educational exclusion.

These compounding disadvantages manifest in predictable educational outcomes. Urban students consistently outperform their rural peers in national examinations and university admission rates, not necessarily due to greater individual aptitude, but because of systemic advantages that shape the conditions of learning. Such outcomes contribute to intergenerational cycles of inequality, stifling social mobility and reinforcing regional poverty traps.

Policy interventions like the National Education Policy Framework (NEPF) 2023–2033 and the school clustering initiative offer tentative steps toward redressing these inequities. By encouraging resource-sharing, streamlining administrative coordination, and enhancing infrastructure, they aim to promote greater parity across schools. Yet, as with previous reform attempts, the promise of equity hinges not only on policy design but on the will and capacity to implement these measures effectively. Without sustained investment and accountability, disparities will persist, subtly reshaped but fundamentally unchanged.

Literacy, Language, and Access: Deepening the Rural-Urban Educational Divide

While Sri Lanka proudly boasts a national literacy rate of 95.7%, a disaggregated view reveals persistent disparities that challenge the narrative of educational inclusivity. The estate sector, predominantly rural and socioeconomically marginalised, records the lowest literacy rate at 80.9%, with particularly stark gaps among women. This data reflects more than a numeric deficiency: it signifies constrained access to basic information, diminished employment prospects, and limited civic participation for a substantial segment of the population.

The digital literacy divide compounds this educational exclusion. Urban areas report a 49% computer literacy rate, while rural regions lag behind at 32.3% and estate areas at a mere 13.9%. These figures suggest that a considerable portion of Sri Lanka’s youth, especially outside urban centers, lack the foundational skills required to engage with the digital economy or benefit from online services and learning platforms.

Inadequate infrastructure plays a central role: as of 2017, only 21% of rural households had access to a desktop or laptop computer, compared to nearly 40% in urban areas. Such disparities hinder not only individual learning but also the national goal of fostering a digitally fluent workforce.

English proficiency, a key determinant of educational and economic mobility in Sri Lanka, exhibits similarly entrenched divides. With only 22% of the population literate in English, rural students are systematically disadvantaged in accessing higher education and private-sector employment. Assessments from the National Educational Research Centre (2015–2016) revealed sharp performance gaps: Grade 4 students in urban schools scored an average of 61% in English, compared to 49% in rural schools. By Grade 8, the divide deepens further—urban scores averaged 45%, while rural counterparts managed only 33%. These figures underscore how early language inequality translates into long-term barriers.

Access to tertiary education magnifies these divides. Tracer studies show that 66% of university students originate from metropolitan and urban backgrounds, while only 34% come from rural areas, despite rural students comprising roughly 70% of the national schooling population. This imbalance highlights the systemic barriers to upward mobility, particularly for students from disadvantaged regions. The bottleneck is partially driven by capacity constraints: Sri Lanka’s 15 state universities accommodate only around 30,000 entrants annually, out of the approximately 350,000 candidates who sit for the A-Level examination each year.

Poverty remains a foundational contributor to these disparities. Only 20% of students from low-income families complete secondary education, compared to 70% from more affluent households. In rural areas,

this divide is accentuated by the economic necessity of child labour and household responsibilities, which inhibit sustained educational engagement, even in a system that formally offers free tuition.

Collectively, these data points reveal a troubling portrait of uneven educational access, in which geography, income, gender, and ethnicity intersect to shape opportunity. Bridging these divides will require more than episodic reforms; it demands a comprehensive, equity-oriented strategy.

Simply introducing patchwork measures, such as altering the evaluation system, cannot resolve the entrenched and multifaceted inequities that shape educational access and outcomes in Sri Lanka. While such reforms may offer incremental improvements, they often fail to address the underlying structural barriers that perpetuate disadvantage. Without a holistic approach that acknowledges the complex realities faced by marginalised communities, reforms risk becoming cosmetic, leaving the foundational architecture of inequality intact.

Investments in infrastructure, teacher training, curriculum relevance, and digital inclusion must be paired with culturally responsive policies that recognise the unique challenges faced by rural communities. By empowering students across Sri Lanka’s social and geographic spectrum, the nation can transform its educational system into a true vehicle for inclusive development.

Toward Equitable Transformation: Reimagining Sri Lanka’s Education Future

Sri Lanka’s education system, hailed for its commitment to free access and impressive literacy rates, stands at a crossroads. Beneath the surface of national achievement metrics lies a network of persistent, interlocking inequalities, as discussed. Geographic divides between urban and rural communities, stratified school types, uneven teacher distribution, digital exclusion, gendered constraints, and barriers to tertiary access all form the scaffolding of a system that reproduces privilege rather than dismantling it. Even well-intentioned reforms, such as modular evaluation, risk intensifying these disparities when implemented without sufficient attention to contextual realities.

Addressing these challenges demands more than incremental policy shifts. It requires a transformative vision, one that places educational equity at the centre of national development. This entails not only expanding infrastructure and improving access to qualified educators but also reshaping curricula to foster critical, inclusive, and practical learning. Efforts like school clustering and digital expansion must be paired with investments in teacher training, linguistic equity, and targeted support for socioeconomically disadvantaged and linguistically marginalised communities.

Moreover, reform should not be confined to institutional design. It must confront the socioeconomic roots of educational exclusion, from child labour to poverty-linked dropout rates. Ensuring that rural and estate students are not only admitted to universities but are meaningfully supported throughout their academic journeys is essential for bridging aspiration with opportunity.

Sri Lanka has the foundational assets, high literacy, a history of public investment, and a population eager for opportunity. What’s needed is a recalibration of focus: from system preservation to system transformation. A truly equitable education system must be inclusive by design, resilient in delivery, and reflective of the nation’s diverse realities. Only then can education fulfil its promise, not just as a pathway to employment, but as a cornerstone of social justice and national progress.

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Midweek Review

Legacy of enforced disappearances: Vital facts conveniently forgotten to whitewash LTTE and India

Published

1 day ago

2026/09/9

Sahan Weerasooriya

One-time child soldier Jesuthasan Antonythasan poses with actresses Claudine Vinasithamby and Kalieaswari Srinivasan during a photocall for the film "Dheepan" at the 68th Cannes Film Festival in Cannes. The movie won the Palme d'Or in 2015. Antonythasan fought for the LTTE terrorist group before fleeing Sri Lanka and reached France in 1993. Of those categorised as missing, perhaps he is the most famous.

Those demanding accountability from Sri Lanka for war crimes allegations are strangely silent on atrocities committed by the LTTE. On the orders of its leader Velupillai Prabhakaran, the LTTE killed hundreds of members belonging to rival terrorist groups. It assassinated President Ranasinghe Premadsasa, almost succeeded in assassinating President Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga and made attempts on President Mahinda Rajapaksa. But, the indiscriminate use of children as cannon fodder went unnoticed. How many children, forcibly recruited into their ranks, perished in fighting? And, lastly, shouldn’t the Tamil community hold the Illankai Thamil Arasu Kadchi (ITAK)-led now defunct Tamil National Alliance, that recognised the LTTE in 2001 as the sole representative of the Tamil speaking people, responsible for death and destruction caused since 2001?

By Shamindra Ferdinando

Working Group on Enforced or Involuntary Disappearances (WGEID) representative Ana Lorena Delgadillo Pérez, and head of the Association of Relatives of Enforced Disappearances (ARED) Yogarasa Kanagaranjini, on 30 August, opened an exhibition at the Thanthai Selva Auditorium in Jaffna. The exhibition, appropriately named ‘Long Road for Justice,’ coincided with the International Day for Victims of Enforced Disappearances.

Pérez later addressed a conference held therein where the responsibility on the part of Sri Lanka was stressed.

Civil society activist Sunanda Deshapriya, in an article titled ‘Sri Lanka’s Disappeared: Where Do We Go from Here?’ carried in Jaffna Monitor, dealt with missing persons issue. Deshapriya focused on the North-East war (https://www.jaffnamonitor.com/sri-lankas-disappeared-where-do-we-go-from-here/)

The ICRC, Colombo, issued a statement regarding the International Day of the Disappeared. When the writer sought the number of missing persons in the country, Ruwanthi Jayasundare, Head of Communications, said that they had a caseload of 15,000 registered tracing requests (1983-2009) but she asserted that the actual number of missing was far bigger (https://island.lk/icrs-sustained-and-collective-efforts-critical-to-address-issue-of-missing-persons/)

Perhaps, many people wouldn’t know that the ICRC arrived here in 1989 during the second Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP) terror campaign in the wake of Indian military intervention here. The much discussed issue of disappearances must be appropriately dealt with, taking into consideration the relevant factors. At the time of their deployment here, President Ranasinghe Premadasa had been engaged in direct talks with the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) and the Geneva-headquartered body never expected a gruesome outbreak of violence. It would be pertinent to mention that within weeks after the ICRC’s arrival here, the JVP was crushed with brute force as it, too, resorted to senseless violence. The counter violence unleashed by the state apparatus was such that the then Marxist group’s top leadership was killed, except for Somawansa Amarasinghe, who escaped, with Indian help, in February 1990, and remained in exile till late 2001.

The ICRC deployment took place in mid October, 1989, and JVP leader Rohana Wijeweera was captured in the second week of November, at Ulapone, and shot in custody, and was allegedly cremated alive at the Borella cemetery.

In fact, at the time the ICRC arrived here, the JVP was on its last legs. The UNP government never bothered to hand over the bodies of slain JVP cadres to their families. Those who had been listed missing at that time were no longer in the land of the living, by the time the ICRC brought its operation in the South to an end.

What the country never expected was a fresh flare-up in the northern and eastern regions. The LTTE resumed large-scale hostilities, in June, after the Indian Army pulled out from Sri Lanka in late March 1990. Interestingly, some of those demanding justice for the missing/disappeared are conveniently silent about the disappearances during the Indian Army deployment here (July 1987 to March 1990).

Soon after hostilities erupted in the northern and eastern regions, following a 14-month truce between President Ranasinghe Premadasa and LTTE leader Velupillai Prabhakaran (May 1989 to June 1990), the ICRC was invited to open offices in that region. There had been excesses on the part of the military and law enforcement authorities as the government battled the LTTE, the world’s most ruthless terrorist organisation as assessed by none other than the US Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Yet Sri Lanka must earnestly address accountability issues and take meaningful measures to compensate the families of the innocents.

However, the Tamil community must come to terms with the reality that the vast majority of dead were members of the LTTE. The LTTE enjoyed considerable firepower as it literally wielded a conventional fighting capability, which even included a fledgling air force and directly challenged the government, and the armed forces had no option but to fight back. Obviously, the LTTE, that achieved significant battlefield successes over the years, never expected the almost non-stop three-year-long offensive that brought the war to an end in May 2009. Disappearances became exceptionally an important issue in the overall agenda pursued by the Tamil Diaspora and Tamil speaking political parties here only after the LTTE’s eradication.

Multiple reasons

In September 1990, several months after the Indian Army was literally forced to pull out from Sri Lanka as Tigers fought back the mighty IPKF to a standstill, while President Premadasa, too, made it clear that they were no longer welcome here, Amnesty International (AI) documented 43 cases of disappearances. According to the London headquartered AI, the majority of these disappearances happened in the Jaffna peninsula, following the outbreak of fighting in October 1989. The Indian Army launched ‘Operation Pawan’ meant to disarm the LTTE in line with the Indo-Lanka Accord, signed on 29 July, 1987.

During the Indian Army deployment here (1987 July to 1990 March), the Sri Lankan armed forces were confined to their barracks in the North and East. The AI accused the Indian Army of torture, extrajudicial executions and disappearances. The deaths of nearly 1,500 Indian officers and men, and injuries to approximately 3,000 others during the Indian deployment here, underscored the ferocity of the situation.

The Indian Army carried out reprisals, following LTTE attacks in both provinces. The Indian Army was also accused of sexual violence. Perhaps, the August 1989 Valvettithurai orgy of violence, during which Indian soldiers killed civilians, tortured detainees, committed sexual violence, and systematically destroyed homes and businesses, while the town was under curfew, was the worst case.

In October, 2025, the International Truth and Justice Project (ITJP) presented a detailed reparations claim, in association with the Valvettithurai Citizens’ Committee, to the Sri Lankan Office for Reparations, requesting USD $15 million (LKR 4.5 billion) for victims of a 1989 orgy of violence committed by the IPKF where at least 66 civilians were killed and 34 injured.

There hadn’t been a previous instance of a comprehensive compensation claim for such a wartime crime. Thousands of LTTE cadres, some of them trained in India, and civilians, perished in Indian Army action. The Indian Peace Keeping Force (IPKF) earned such a bad reputation it came to be dubbed the Indian People Killing Force.

The war in Sri Lanka, or whatever one chooses to call it, should be examined in the context of a high profile Indian destabilisation project ordered by Premier Indira Gandhi. Over a year after the Indian Army pullout, the LTTE assassinated Rajiv Gandhi, by then out of power, but he was the person Velupillai Prabhakaran held responsible for the Indian Army deployment in Sri Lanka. Following Gandhi’s assassination, India hunted down the LTTE team, involved in the operation, carried out by a female suicide cadre.

The LTTE forgot the Indian role in the transformation of the Tamil separatist terrorist movement to a deadly conventional threat. If not for the despicable Indian action, Sri Lanka wouldn’t have been hauled up before the Geneva-based United Nations Human Rights Council (UNHRC). That is the unpalatable truth.

How many Sri Lankan Tamils disappeared during weapons training in India? Did India investigate such disappearances as well as deaths caused by fighting among rival Tamil terrorist groups operating in India at that time? Among the groups that had been armed by India were PLOTE (People’s Liberation Organisation of Tamil Eelam), EPRLF (Eelam People’s Revolutionary Liberation Front) and TELO (Tamil Eelam Liberation Organisation) responsible for quite a significant number of killings and human rights violations.

India never accepted responsibility for the PLOTE raid on the Maldives on a contract to topple the then Maldivian PM Gayoom’s government given by a domestic rival in early November, 1988. Shouldn’t New Delhi at least apologise for the sea borne raid on the Maldives that resulted in deaths of Maldivians, as well as raiders? The Indian Navy sank a ship commandeered by the attackers fleeing the Maldives after air borne Indian troops brought the situation under control.

The Indian and global media praised swift Indian intervention but ignored two key factors, namely (i) the operation targeting Maldivian President Maumoon Abdul Gayoom was mounted by one of the groups trained, armed and deployed by India and (ii) two trawlers carrying the raiding party left the northern part of Sri Lanka, at that time held by the Indian Army.

The writer had the opportunity, in November, 2011, to interview the Maldivian businessman, Abdullah Luthufee, who convinced the PLOTE leader Uma Maheswaran to carry out the operation. (Male plot leader speaks out 3 November, 2011, Rajiv saved us from Gayoom-Male coup leader 4 November 2011 and How Luthufee moved SAARC venue from Male to Addu 11 Nov 2011) dealt with the operation that should have drawn international attention to the Indian destabilisation project. Let me stress that some PLOTE cadres perished when the Indian Navy sank the vessel commandeered by the fleeing PLOTE cadres. They were among those who had been listed missing during the conflict.

Australian and US interventions

One-time top JVPer Kumar Gunaratnam secret arrival in Sri Lanka as an Australian Citizen Noel Mudalige, in early September, 2011, emphasised the issuance of foreign passports in assumed names to Sri Lankans under controversial circumstances. The writer exclusively reported how the head of the breakaway JVP faction, known as the Frontline Socialist Party (FSP), arrived here. The Australian High Commission in Sri Lanka acted swiftly and decisively when Gunaratnam disappeared after entering the country, using Australian passport bearing number N 1016123 on September 4, 2011 (https://dbsjeyaraj.com/dbsj/?p=43914). The writer dealt with the same issue again in August 2016 (https://dbsjeyaraj.com/dbsj/?p=47936).

Among thousands of Sri Lankans, now having foreign citizenship, there can be many people listed here as “missing/forcibly” disappeared. Western governments never helped Sri Lanka to establish the real identities of Sri Lankans living abroad, under assumed names. If Gunaratnam never acted in a manner inimical to the JVP, he could have easily lived a comfortable life in Australia as Sinhala Buddhist Noel Mudalige.

There had been many interesting stories of those categorised as missing/dead turning up in the West, under new identities. One of the most intriguing ones, is about an ex-LTTE terrorist turned Frenchman Antonythasan Jesuthasan, the lead actor in Dheepen that won the prestigious Palme d’Or at the 2015 Cannes Film Festival.

Internationally acclaimed Jacques Audiard directed the movie about three Sri Lankans who formed a fake family to escape the war and to secure asylum in France. Antonythasan Jesuthasan’s performance in Dheepan earned him a Best Actor nomination at the 2016 César Awards (the French equivalent of the Oscars). Jesuthasan is the only ex-LTTE terrorist to receive international acclaim as an actor.

In an interview with Tom Seymour (Dheepan’s Antonythasan Jesuthasan: from Tamil Tiger to star of a Palme d’Or winner in The Guardian) posted online on March 31, 2016, transformed Frenchman Jesuthasan, unwittingly revealed how he deceived the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) to secure political asylum. Seymour reported that Jesuthasan, after having shown him a dense lattice of scars on his forearm, declared: “I did those to myself. I was 22, and I had spent years trying to come to the west. I wanted to get a fake French passport, but I had to be accepted as a refugee. I went to the UNHCR [the UN High Commissioner for Refugees], but they wouldn’t believe my story. So I cut myself, and held up my arm, and said to them: ‘Look at my blood. This is my word.”

Jesuthasan is just one among thousands who obtained political asylum on false claims. Jesuthasan ended up as the star of Dheepan, directed by Jacques Audiard, possibly France’s most celebrated modern director. There cannot be a better example than Jesuthasan to highlight the web of deceit pertaining to the vast majority of those who successfully secured political asylum. But, the Sri Lanka Foreign Ministry never bothered to set the record straight. Born in Allaipiddy, on the Velanaitivu islet, Jesuthasan claimed he fought the Sri Lanka Army in August 1990 and subsequently fled the country and managed to reach France.

But, the case of Kathiravel Thayapararajah is one of the most controversial cases. Thayapararajah had been involved in a Tamil Diaspora funded project in Kilinochchi during Eelam war IV. He couldn’t have secured the Diaspora assignment without the approval of the LTTE and remained in the Vanni during the war. He disappeared in September 2009.

His disappearance prompted a section of the media, as well as some international NGOs, to accuse the Directorate of Military Intelligence (DMI) of executing him. No less a person than the then US Assistant Secretary of State for South Asian Affairs and one-time US Ambassador in Colombo, Robert O. Blake, inquired about the missing person.

The University Teachers for Human Rights (Jaffna), the Australian Government Refugee Review Tribunal, Tamilnet and the European Centre for Constitutional and Human Rights among others blamed the Sri Lankan intelligence for the disappearance. However, the Indian media, in May, 2014, revealed Thayapararajah’s arrest though they didn’t know at the time that he was the person who was supposed to have been killed by the Sri Lankan Intelligence. At the time Indian police apprehended Thayapararajah, at Arichamunai off Dhanuskodi, after arriving there in a boat from Sri Lanka, he had been with notorious female human smuggler Uthayakala. She claimed Thayapararajah was her second husband.

That chance detection exposed a blatant lie propagated over the years. The then Head of Missing Persons Commission, retired High Court Judge Maxwell Paranagama, is also on record as having called for international cooperation to trace persons living overseas under new identities. Paranagama told the writer that at that time both the international community, including the ICRC, had declined to help Sri Lanka identify those taking cover behind new identities.

Chemmani mass graves

Sri Lanka needs to investigate war crimes allegations, particularly the high profile Chemmani mass grave. The country cannot ignore the continuing accusations with the international media taking advantage of the situation to tarnish the country, especially the Rajapaksa rule. It must be a way of the West taking revenge from the Rajapaksas for going against their wish to save the bold thirsty Tigers. It is like their logic that Israel can do no wrong!

The CNN dealt with the Chemmani issue while the International Commission of Jurists (ICJ), in July last year, called for what it claimed as victim-centred investigation into the alleged mass graves in compliance with international law and standards.

Tamil political parties, too, repeatedly demanded tangible action against the perpetrators. The Chemmani mass grave site drew national and international attention in 1998 following the confession of a soldier implicated in the rape and murder of schoolgirl Krishanthy Kumaraswamy. Chemmani has become a powerful and painful symbol of the country’s war-torn past.

Krishanthy Kumaraswamy was raped and killed by soldiers on the 7th of September, 1996. The same group of soldiers later killed her mother, her younger brother and a family friend who went out searching for the teenager.

An excavation, in 1999, led to the recovery of 15 sets of remains, and then the matter was allowed to rest for about a quarter of a century. On the orders of the Jaffna Magistrate’s court, a fresh excavation was ordered last year, following the chance recovery of some skeletal remains and so far nearly 600 sets of human remains have been found, among them children and infants. Tamil media have declared Chemmani as the largest mass grave found in Sri Lanka.

It would be pertinent to mention that some time back the Army was accused of the Mannar mass graves but investigations undertaken by the Office of Missing Persons (OMP), with international expertise, proved the claims false. Bone fragment samples were submitted to Beta Analytic, a specialised US radiocarbon-dating laboratory. This happened during the Yahapalana administration (2015-2019) Later, the lab indicated that the tested bone samples dated back to the period between 1499 and 1719 AD (the 15th to 18th century). That brought an end to the Mannar mass graves hoax.

Whatever the circumstances, the government cannot remain silent regarding the Chemmani mass graves. The area that had been under Security Forces Headquarters, Jaffna continues to receive public attention, both here and abroad. The Army will have to address the issue without further delay. Let me stress the importance of investigating the atrocities perpetrated by others, namely the Indian Army for which the responsibility lies with the government of India as well as the LTTE, and over half a dozen other terrorist groups that subsequently entered the political mainstream.

The formation of Tamil National Army (TNA) by India before the Indian Army pullout by March 1990, too, must receive the attention of Sri Lanka as well the concerned international community. Having totally destabilised the smaller neighbouring county by arming scores of terrorist groups, New Delhi went a step further by the formation of the TNA meant to protect Varatharaja Perumal’s North-East provincial administration.

In spite of President Ranasinghe Premadasa drawing strong criticism for arming the LTTE against the Indian Army, in hindsight, if not for his controversial decision, India’s proxy, TNA may have taken root. Whatever various parties say today, the TNA had been formed to ensure the continuation of the deeply unpopular Perumal’s administration that went to the extent of forcible conscription. India can never absolve itself of responsibility for what it did in Sri Lanka. The destabilisation project, largely influenced by the then Premier Indira Gandhi’s concerns over the developing situation in Tamil Nadu, caused massive death and destruction. No less a person than J.N. Dixit, who served as their High Commissioner in Colombo (1985 to 1989), and later appointed National Security Advisor (2004 to 2005) disclosed in his memoirs ‘Makers of India’s Foreign Policy: Raja Ram Mohun to Yashwant Sinha’, Indira’s Gandhi’s intervention. The late Dixit in no uncertain terms blamed her for Indian intervention in Sri Lanka.

Midweek Review

A street where Sri Lankan stories found their readers

Published

1 day ago

2026/09/9

Sahan Weerasooriya

Margaret Richardson and Asanka de Mel / Ashok Ferrey

By Ifham Nizam

Pictures by Nishan S Priyantha and Kamal Bogoda

Ashok Ferrey took readers into an older Colombo through Colpetty People. Vivimarie Vanderpoorten opened the door to the personal stories behind her poetry. Andrew Fidel Fernando brought cricket, culture and the distinctive world of Sri Lankan school cricket into the conversation, while Ramya Jirasinghe spoke candidly about the long and often difficult road from writing a manuscript to seeing it published.

Then came Margaret Richardson and Asanka de Mel, whose conversation moved from literature to the question of where Sri Lanka should be by 2048.

These were among the voices that gave life to Fairway Street of Stories, a new initiative that sought to bring Sri Lankan English-language writers closer to their readers.

But behind the gathering of authors, readers, books, children, book clubs and aspiring writers was a bigger idea—the brainchild of Amendra Haputhanthri, Director of Sarasavi Bookshop (Pvt) Ltd.

For Haputhanthri, Fairway Street of Stories is not merely another literary event. It is part of a much larger attempt to create a marketplace for Sri Lankan talent and to persuade readers to discover stories that are unmistakably their own.

“Usually, when we have exhibitions, such as the Colombo Book Fair, we always think about what sells the most. Here, we wanted to create a niche market for people who want to read Sri Lankan writing,” she said.

And the first event demonstrated just how wide that literary world can be.

Stories from a Sri Lanka we know

Haputhanthri believes one of the greatest strengths of Sri Lankan English writing is its sense of place.

A thriller set in an unfamiliar foreign city may be entertaining. But a thriller unfolding at the Galle Face Hotel or Mount Lavinia Hotel carries another kind of intimacy for a Sri Lankan reader.

“You have familiar words and actual real-world places that we have been to. There will be a connection with the book,” she said.

That connection can be even more powerful when the story takes readers into places and experiences that are disappearing.

This is one reason she admires Ferrey’s work.

During his Fairway session, Ferrey, together with Tanya de Mel, offered readers an engaging glimpse into the world behind Colpetty People and the Colombo it captures.

Amendra Haputhanthri (extreme left) with winners

For Haputhanthri, Ferrey’s writing is also a record of a rapidly changing city.

“Even Sri Lanka is changing very rapidly. Within Colombo also, the environment is rapidly changing, and that is being addressed nicely in the books of Ashok Ferrey,” she said.

Literature, in that sense, becomes more than entertainment.

It becomes memory.

The stories behind the poems

Vivimarie Vanderpoorten offered a very different literary experience.

Haputhanthri describes her as one of the country’s outstanding contemporary talents, particularly because of the personal histories embedded in her poetry.

A poem on a page may be only a few lines long. But behind those lines can lie an entire life.

Vanderpoorten spoke about those experiences at Fairway, including deeply disturbing events she had witnessed during her university years.

For Haputhanthri, hearing those stories transformed the poems.

“All her stories, there is a back story. All her poems, there is a back story,” she said.

She believes such conversations are precisely what literary events should create—a space where readers can move beyond the printed page and understand the human experience that produced it.

She also encouraged people to read poetry, even if only one poetry collection a year.

Poetry, she believes, forces readers to think beyond what is immediately presented.

“It gives you the ability to think out of the box,” she said.

Cricket is more than a score

Andrew Fidel Fernando brought yet another dimension to the event.

For someone who writes and comments on international cricket, his work naturally takes readers into the world of the game. But Haputhanthri noted that Fernando’s writing also captures the culture surrounding cricket in different countries.

And Sri Lanka has a particularly richstory to tell.

Andrew Fidel Fernando / Dr. Vivimarie Vanderpoorten

For Haputhanthri, the island’s school-cricket culture is something the world should know more about.

“We are the best in the world when it comes to having a culture for school cricket. It is something very unique to our country,” she said.

She even suggested that writers interested in Sri Lankan cricket should explore this largely distinctive phenomenon in greater depth.

Because literature can sometimes reveal what statistics cannot.

A schoolboy walking onto a cricket ground carries with him a school, a city, friendships, rivalries, family expectations and an entire culture.

From manuscript to book

Ramya Jirasinghe’s contribution was particularly relevant to aspiring writers.

She spoke about her own journey and the realities of getting a book published.

Her experience demonstrated that literary success rarely happens overnight.

Winning recognition is one thing. Turning a manuscript into an internationally published book is another.

For emerging writers listening to her, the message was clear: writing requires patience, revision and persistence.

Haputhanthri knows that process well.

Writers, she said, can be rejected repeatedly—even at international level.

And translations create another layer of difficulty.

Sometimes an author reads a translation of his or her work and says: “This doesn’t have my voice.”

That, Haputhanthri acknowledged, illustrates how complex the journey from an original manuscript to another language can be.

A speech from the future

Carmel Miranda

Asanka de Mel and Margaret Richardson brought another perspective to Fairway.

De Mel’s 2048: A Speech from 2048 looks towards the centenary of Sri Lanka’s independence and asks why the country has not yet become a developed nation.

But his message, as Haputhanthri interpreted it, was not one of resignation.

Sri Lanka should not allow its small geographical size to become a psychological limitation.

De Mel’s own journey—from two decades in Silicon Valley to returning to Sri Lanka and embarking on entrepreneurial ventures—was offered as an example of what persistence and confidence can achieve.

For Haputhanthri, it reinforced one of the central lessons of both writing and life.

“There is no shortcut in life,” she said.

Stories that preserve a country

Fairway Street of Stories also reflected Haputhanthri’s belief that literature can preserve aspects of Sri Lankan identity that are increasingly vulnerable.

She spoke about Angampora, Beeralu weaving, traditional culture and historical stories.

Even the country’s royal heritage can become a gateway for a new generation to understand the island’s past.

She recalled seeing foreign visitors browsing books about Sri Lankan kings.

Those books were doing more than recounting history. They were presenting the story of a country with a long and complicated heritage.

Haputhanthri believes Sri Lankan literature can perform a similar role internationally.

“Our stories should also reach people in the same way our food and cultural experiences have reached the world,” she said.

She recalled meeting two foreigners who had visited Sri Lanka around 156 times.

Their extraordinary attachment to the country reminded her that Sri Lanka’s culture has an ability to attract people repeatedly.

The stories of the country, she believes, deserve the same reach.

The problem is not the e-book

Ramya Jirasinghe (third from left)

Yet while Haputhanthri is passionate about books, she is equally concerned about the future of reading.

She does not believe e-books are necessarily the enemy.

“If people are reading an e-version, as long as they are reading something valuable, that will add something to you,” she said.

The bigger threat, in her view, is the endless scrolling culture of the smartphone.

“Scrolling on the phone reduces your attention span and you can’t do any sort of deep work,” she said.

She has observed this challenge among young people entering the workplace and believes sustained concentration is increasingly difficult.

But her answer is not to blame young people.

It is to begin much earlier—with parents and teachers.

“Whatever the parents read, the children also will read,” she said.

‘Readers Are Not Born, They Are Created’

That belief is now developing into another initiative.

Haputhanthri is working on a programme titled ‘Readers Are Not Born, They Are Created’, which she hopes to take from school to school and community to community.

The target will be parents as much as children.

The message is that reading habits are cultivated. They are demonstrated, encouraged and nurtured.

She also hopes to involve children who have themselves developed through reading, allowing them to share their experiences with others.

For Haputhanthri, the issue is deeply personal.

“I would credit everything that I have today, and everything I am today, because of reading,” she said.

She believes avid readers develop empathy, creativity and critical thinking—qualities that are increasingly valuable in a world dominated by information but often short on attention.

Beyond one literary weekend

Fairway Street of Stories, therefore, is not intended to remain a once-a-year literary celebration.

Haputhanthri wants to see activities connected with reading and books continue throughout the year.

A bargain book sale is among the ideas being considered, making use of books from Sarasavi’s extensive network of branches that may have suffered minor damage or discolouration while remaining on shelves.

The next major event will be the book fair, followed by further initiatives.

But the larger ambition goes beyond sales.

It is about discovery.

A reader discovering a Sri Lankan writer.

A child discovering poetry.

An aspiring author discovering that rejection is not the end.

A foreign visitor discovering that Sri Lanka’s stories are as rich as its food, landscapes and traditions.

And a country discovering itself in its own books.

That is perhaps the most significant contribution of Fairway Street of Stories.

Because the authors who gathered there did more than talk about their books.

They demonstrated the many ways in which Sri Lanka can be written, remembered and imagined.

And behind that gathering was Amendra Haputhanthri’s conviction that these stories deserve not only a place on a bookshelf, but a place in the minds of readers—and eventually, a place in the wider world.