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Lighter moments in the University of Ceylon in the 1960s

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In the 1950’s and early 60’s the only sure path for students to pursue a professional career was through the University of Ceylon. The most difficult University to get into was one’s own. Why? Because everyone wanted to get in, so the competition was tough. Allowing for the differences in schooling opportunities and teaching standards across the country, and vagaries such as examination blues, keen competition ensured that only the creme-de-la-crème of the youth of our time entered the hallowed portals of the two campuses in Colombo and Peradeniya. It follows that the University, by many measures, was the “academic citadel” for the youth of our time.

The unique status of the University of Ceylon at the time was depicted by a ditty that likened it to the institution of marriage: The title tells it all in the midst of serious study, assignments/ course-works whilst burning mid-night oil.

‘Those who are in it, are trying to get out;

Those who are out, are trying to get in;

Those who tried to get in, and coul

d not get in;

Speak ill of the institution.’

Vice Chancellors And Professors

At the time I entered the University, the Vice Chancellor of theUniversity of Ceylon was Sir Nicholas Attygalle, a powerful and charismatic personality, who was concurrently the Dean of the Faculty of Medicine. The Dean of the Faculty of Science was Professor B. L. T. de Silva, whose specialty was Botany. All university final exam results had to be approved by the University Senate. Heads of all Faculties, including the two senior professors mentioned above, were members of the Senate. The non-voting member was the University Registrar.

While Senate sessions to approve examination results were largely a formality, there were occasions when some discretion was required to resolve the cases of students with marginal performance at the finals. As a rule, Sir Nicholas took the stand that a medical doctor cannot be released into society unless the pass mark has been reached in ‘all’ subjects. He was against passing a medical student who was ‘a marginal case’. He was firm in his conviction.

The day came when the issue was whether to grant a pass to a veteran student taking Botany Honours. The student had failed in his two previous attempts at the final examinations. Finals were held only once a year. At his third ‘shy’ the student had passed in three subjects; in the fourth, his score was 37, three short of the pass mark of 40. The Senate had to agree to raise the score of 37 to 40 for this student to be awarded the degree. A key condition to do so was agreement by the subject matter Professor. As it was Botany, B.L.T. de Silva’s approval was mandatory.

B.L.T. de Silva assumed a stance similar to Nicholas Attygalle in refusing to grant a degree if a student had not achieved the pass mark in all four subjects. Nicholas found this exasperating, probably because he appreciated the enormity of a “veteran” student having to come back again to sit the examination in another year’s time if he were not granted his degree at these
sessions.

Nicholas had the final say as the Chairman of the Senate and Vice Chancellor, and cajoled: ‘I say, BLT, push the bugger up, push the bugger up, please. Only a bloody plant will die!’ BLT acceded and there is a baby boomer botanist today who owes his career to Sir Nicholas Attygalle.

Rendezvous

From the stately library building at the Peradeniya Campus, it is a short trek on the footbridge across the Mahaweli to Akbar- Nell Hall, the hall of residence located adjacent to the Faculty of Engineering (affectionately referred to as the EFac). The EFac itself had its lecture rooms and laboratories in hangar-like halls on either side of a wide and open corridor some 400 meters long. The layout presented an impressive open-air vastness particular to this Faculty. At one end of the corridor was the canteen and at the other the Akbar-Nell Hall, home to many EFac students. Of all the academic faculties in Peradeniya, the EFac probably had students from the widest socio-economic range of Sri Lankan society.

Among them, in our time, was a student from a wealthy family who had the only car among the Akbar-Nell residents. To his credit, he was a clean living and charitable soul. He lent his car to friends in a spirit of camaraderie, with no questions asked about the purpose for which it was to be used.

‘Machang! I need to take Beatrice out tonight for a film,’ was enough for him to lend the car. On another day it was another friend taking Latha out. No questions about what might happen in the back seat with Latha. He also obliged friends who were taking out Kamala, Lolita, Nirmalee or Pathma (all fictional names randomly picked and any resemblance to anybody living is completely unintentional).

But this student had one failure (a couple, in fact): he failed to get through his exams in the first attempt. The Dean of the Engineering Faculty was Professor E.O.E. Pereira, a mustachioed, pipe smoking, charismatic Burgher gentleman. His exterior was stern, but on the inside he was a kind and fatherly figure to the students.

The Annual Sessions of the Institution of Engineers was held in 1968 in Colombo. The guest speakers included Professor EOE (as he was affectionately called) and the General Manager of Railways (GMR). An interesting conversation took place on the podium.

‘Hello, EOE, how are you?’ asked the GMR
‘Very well; and how is the railway network?’ ‘Progressing smoothly. But EOE, I have a problem.’ ‘What is it?’
I have a nephew studying under you. He is a bright chap, but he is failing his exams,’ was the GMR’s uneasy answer. ‘What is his name?’
The name was provided by GMR. EOE’s eyes lit up in understanding.
‘Has he got a car?’ ‘Yes, yes he has a car, you know him EOE?’ asked the GMR,
with excitement in his voice. ‘I know him well, I trust’, EOE said. ‘That is a relief. I hope you can help him, EOE?’ ‘I can, but he has to study harder.’ ‘How do you mean?’ was the troubled GMR’s query about his nephew. ‘I go to the Faculty Club every night for a drink and then drive up Hantane Hill to my residence at about ten o’clock in the night for dinner.’

If the GMR was wondering what EOE’s time of returning home at 10 in the night had to do with his nephew, he was about to learn its significance.

‘When I return home from the club, I see his car parked near the Hantane bypass, and he is with his girl-friend in the car,’ and EOE added, ‘You will have to ask him to pull up his pants and start studying seriously!’

It would have been fascinating to have been a fly on the wallduring the subsequent meeting between the uncle and the nephew: the nephew strongly denying any nightly escapades, and the uncle discounting any arguments on the basis of the unimpeachable witness’ account of the Dean of the Faculty of Engineering!

EOE in 1969 deservedly became the Vice Chancellor. The nephew of the GMR, I am glad to say, put his head down following EOE’s advice, and graduated. He retired as a very successful Hospital Engineer, and resident in a chic suburb not far from London.

Peradeniya Rest House and The Man Of God

The most popular restaurant among Peradeniya undergrads in 60’s was Lyons in Kandy. This was the place where the fare was easy on the pocket and the portions generous, an attractive combination to the campus fraternity with tight budgets. The up-market place was El Sombrero, a part of Queen’s Hotel. At Lyons, a mixed grill of steak, bacon, sausage and a “bulls-eye” was Rs 2.50 and a bottle of beer was Rs 3.00; at El Sombrero they were Rs 4.50 and Rs 4.00 respectively. Thus the latter location was reserved for a very special occasion. Being on about Rupees Ten (10) pocket money per week one had to choose the eating places wisely.

Then there was the East China Hotel opposite the lake. Here a plate of fried rice was served with a boiled egg. This was a clincher to cut down on costs, especially if there was a “biju- terian” (the Peradeniya vernacular for an egg eating-vegetarian!) in the group as the cost of ordering a special vegetable dish would also be averted.

However the pride of place for a meal went to the Peradeniya Rest House located much closer to the campus: it was set in a grove of trees opposite the entrance to the Botanical Gardens. The Rest House was run by the Kandy Municipality, which

adhered strictly to local government regulations. The rule that guests had to register in the guest book was not an issue, but an annoying quirk in the regulations – namely, that liquor could not be sold to those living within the Peradeniya local government area – was a hindrance, as this meant that students in the university campus would not be served liquor at the Rest House. So a strategy had to be hatched to beat the inequity of this rule.

An Engineering Faculty (EFac) undergrad and friends from Akbar Nell Hall signed in the Guest Book as ‘Bevis Perera (not his real name) and friends’ from Kollupitiya. The waiter winked knowingly. Several glasses of beer and an excellent meal were enjoyed and the bill was settled with the waiter the recipient of a decent tip and a participant in the ‘crime’. The culprits spread the message and there were many entries of ‘Bevis Perera and friends’ in the Guest Book during the ensuing months.

Bevis Perera was however a real person, a final year student at the EFac. He was a man with a missionary zeal to spread God’s message, and widely regarded as eccentric in his ways. Bevis also had a genuine difficulty: he invariably failed his examinations. He attributed these failures to divine interference in that the longer he spent at Peradeniya, the more he could spread the Lord’s word.

Perhaps his problem arose from the fact that his analytical judgments did not often align with the requirements of his course. For example, a dynamic vibration problem was given with the flywheel rotating at 1,800 revolutions per minute. The Professor had required the students to state assumptions in solving the vibrating frequencies of the flywheel. Bevis’s simple assumption was, ‘Let’s assume that the flywheel does not rotate and is stationary’. He reduced the problem in Dynamics to one of Statics. The examiner was not amused and gave him ‘zero’ for the assignment. This type of eccentricity marked his career and destined Bevis to a long innings at Peradeniya.

Bevis had never ever graced the Peradeniya Rest House and was oblivious to the chicanery committed in his name. The charade at the Rest House went on for about three months. Waiters with quivering palms were very happy to have Bevis arriving in many forms. This innocent deception would have continued if Bevis’s father, a top bureaucrat and head of a government corporation, had not visited the Rest House.

Near midnight on the fateful day, there was a commotion in the corridors of a Residential Hall and one could hear an elderly man’s shouting. The door to Bevis’s room was open and a man was seen severely chastising Bevis. The doors of the adjoining rooms on either side of the corridor opened and the male students in various stages of undress streamed towards Bevis’s room.

‘I know why you are failing exams,’ was the elderly man’s bellow, with finger pointing directly at Bevis. ‘You haunt the Rest House and that is why you fail!’ was the old man’s charge.

‘What are you saying, Dad?’ was Bevis’s mild reply in his state of confusion. ‘Don’t pretend, Bevis. When did you last go to the Rest House?’ shouted the dad. ‘I have never been to the Rest House,’ was the nonplussed Bevis’s reply.

What had happened was that Bevis’s father Wilfred Perera had come ‘on circuit’ visiting branch offices under him in Matale and Kandy. The tired man had checked into the Rest House at 11 p.m for a good night’s sleep and signed the Guest Book. Immediately his attention was attracted by the preceding entry, ‘Bevis Perera and friends’ from Kollupitiya. Going back on records confirmed that his son had been spending considerable money and time at the Rest House, evidently neglecting his studies.

Tired as he was, he immediately ordered his driver to take him to the Hall where Bevis was a residential student. This was a bad case of his father jumping to conclusions (leading to a thoppi and malle pol dialogue). But putting yourself in his shoes, can you blame Mr Perera? Bevis would have had a trying time to convince his father that all those entries in the Rest House register were pranks by friends who did not, in fact, wish him ill.

With friends like them, why would Bevis need enemies? In the event, after a long stay of seven years, Bevis finally scraped through the examinations to qualify as an engineer. He is now in the USA serving in a Christian Mission. Apparently, his father continued to disbelieve Bevis’s denials even after Bevis’ graduation.

By Nihal Kodituwakku ✍️
(Excerpted from 15 autobiographical anecdotes)



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Making ‘Sinhala Studies’ globally relevant

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On 8 January 2026, I delivered a talk at an event at the University of Colombo marking the retirement of my longtime friend and former Professor of Sinhala, Ananda Tissa Kumara and his appointment as Emeritus Professor of Sinhala in that university. What I said has much to do with decolonising social sciences and humanities and the contributions countries like ours can make to the global discourses of knowledge in these broad disciplines. I have previously discussed these issues in this column, including in my essay, ‘Does Sri Lanka Contribute to the Global Intellectual Expansion of Social Sciences and Humanities?’ published on 29 October 2025 and ‘Can Asians Think? Towards Decolonising Social Sciences and Humanities’ published on 31 December 2025.

At the recent talk, I posed a question that relates directly to what I have raised earlier but drew from a specific type of knowledge scholars like Prof Ananda Tissa Kumara have produced over a lifetime about our cultural worlds. I do not refer to their published work on Sinhala, Pali and Sanskrit languages, their histories or grammars; instead, their writing on various aspects of Sinhala culture. Erudite scholars familiar with Tamil sources have written extensively on Tamil culture in this same manner, which I will not refer to here.

To elaborate, let me refer to a several essays written by Professor Tissa Kumara over the years in the Sinhala language: 1) Aspects of Sri Lankan town planning emerging from Sinhala Sandesha poetry; 2) Health practices emerging from inscriptions of the latter part of the Anuradhapura period; 3) Buddhist religious background described in inscriptions of the Kandyan period; 4) Notions of aesthetic appreciation emerging from Sigiri poetry; 5) Rituals related to Sinhala clinical procedures; 6) Customs linked to marriage taboos in Sinhala society; 7) Food habits of ancient and medieval Lankans; and 8) The decline of modern Buddhist education. All these essays by Prof. Tissa Kumara and many others like them written by others remain untranslated into English or any other global language that holds intellectual power. The only exceptions would be the handful of scholars who also wrote in English or some of their works happened to be translated into English, an example of the latter being Prof. M.B. Ariyapala’s classic, Society in Medieval Ceylon.

The question I raised during my lecture was, what does one do with this knowledge and whether it is not possible to use this kind of knowledge profitably for theory building, conceptual and methodological fine-tuning and other such essential work mostly in the domain of abstract thinking that is crucially needed for social sciences and humanities. But this is not an interest these scholars ever entertained. Except for those who wrote fictionalised accounts such as unsubstantiated stories on mythological characters like Rawana, many of these scholars amassed detailed information along with their sources. This focus on sources is evident even in the titles of many of Prof. Tissa Kumara’s work referred to earlier. Rather than focusing on theorising or theory-based interpretations, these scholars’ aim was to collect and present socio-cultural material that is inaccessible to most others in society including people like myself. Either we know very little of such material or are completely unaware of their existence. But they are important sources of our collective history indicating what we are where we have come from and need to be seen as a specific genre of research.

In this sense, people like Prof. Tissa Kumara and his predecessors are human encyclopedias. But the knowledge they produced, when situated in the context of global knowledge production in general, remains mostly as ‘raw’ information albeit crucial. The pertinent question now is what do we do with this information? They can, of course, remain as it is. My argument however is this knowledge can be a serious source for theory-building and constructing philosophy based on a deeper understanding of the histories of our country and of the region and how people in these areas have dealt with the world over time.

Most scholars in our country and elsewhere in the region believe that the theoretical and conceptual apparatuses needed for our thinking – clearly manifest in social sciences and humanities – must necessarily be imported from the ‘west.’ It is this backward assumption, but specifically in reference to Indian experiences on social theory, that Prathama Banerjee and her colleagues observe in the following words: “theory appears as a ready-made body of philosophical thought, produced in the West …” As they further note, in this situation, “the more theory-inclined among us simply pick the latest theory off-the-shelf and ‘apply’ it to our context” disregarding its provincial European or North American origin, because of the false belief “that “‘theory’ is by definition universal.” What this means is that like in India, in countries like ours too, the “relationship to theory is dependent, derivative, and often deeply alienated.”

In a somewhat similar critique in his 2000 book, Provincialising Europe: Postcolonial Thought and Historical Difference Dipesh Chakrabarty points to the limitations of Western social sciences in explaining the historical experiences of political modernity in South Asia. He attempted to renew Western and particularly European thought “from and for the margins,” and bring in diverse histories from regions that were marginalised in global knowledge production into the mainstream discourse of knowledge. In effect, this means making histories of countries like ours relevant in knowledge production.

The erroneous and blind faith in the universality of theory is evident in our country too whether it is the unquestioned embrace of modernist theories and philosophies or their postmodern versions. The heroes in this situation generally remain old white men from Marx to Foucault and many in between. This indicates the kind of unhealthy dependence local discourses of theory owe to the ‘west’ without any attempt towards generating serious thinking on our own.

In his 2002 essay, ‘Dismal State of Social Sciences in Pakistan,’ Akbar Zaidi points out how Pakistani social scientists blindly apply imported “theoretical arguments and constructs to Pakistani conditions without questioning, debating or commenting on the theory itself.” Similarly, as I noted in my 2017 essay, ‘Reclaiming Social Sciences and Humanities: Notes from South Asia,’ Sri Lankan social sciences and humanities have “not seriously engaged in recent times with the dominant theoretical constructs that currently hold sway in the more academically dominant parts of the world.” Our scholars also have not offered any serious alternate constructions of their own to the world without going crudely nativistic or exclusivist.

This situation brings me back to the kind of knowledge that scholars like Prof. Tissa Kumara have produced. Philosophy, theory or concepts generally emerge from specific historical and temporal conditions. Therefore, they are difficult to universalise or generalise without serious consequences. This does not mean that some ideas would not have universal applicability with or without minor fine tuning. In general, however, such bodies of abstract knowledge should ideally be constructed with reference to the histories and contemporary socio-political circumstances

from where they emerge that may have applicability to other places with similar histories. This is what Banerjee and her colleagues proposed in their 2016 essay, ‘The Work of Theory: Thinking Across Traditions’. This is also what decolonial theorists such as Walter Mignolo, Enrique Dussel and Aníbal Quijano have referred to as ‘decolonizing Western epistemology’ and ‘building decolonial epistemologies.’

My sense is, scholars like Prof. Tissa Kumara have amassed at least some part of such knowledge that can be used for theory-building that has so far not been used for this purpose. Let me refer to two specific examples that have local relevance which will place my argument in context. Historian and political scientist Benedict Anderson argued in his influential 1983 book, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism that notions of nationalism led to the creation of nations or, as he calls them, ‘imagined communities.’ For him, unlike many others, European nation states emerged in response to the rise of ‘nationalism’ in the overseas European settlements, especially in the Western Hemisphere. But it was still a form of thinking that had Europe at its center.

Comparatively, we can consider Stephen Kemper’s 1991 book, The Presence of the Past: Chronicles, Politics, and Culture in Sinhala Life where the American anthropologist explored the ways in which Sinhala ‘national’ identity evolved over time along with a continual historical consciousness because of the existence of texts such as Mahawamsa. In other words, the Sinhala past manifests with social practices that have continued from the ancient past among which are chronicle-keeping, maintaining sacred places, and venerating heroes.

In this context, his argument is that Sinhala nationalism predates the rise of nationalist movements in Europe by over a thousand years, thereby challenging the hegemonic arguments such as those of Anderson, Ernest Gellner, Elie Kedourie and others who link nationalism as a modern phenomenon impacted by Europe in some way or another. Kemper was able to come to his interpretation by closely reading Lankan texts such as Mahawamsa and other Pali chronicles and more critically, theorizing what is in these texts. Such interpretable material is what has been presented by Prof. Tissa Kumara and others, sans the sing.

Similarly, local texts in Sinhala such as kadaim poth’ and vitti poth, which are basically narratives of local boundaries and descriptions of specific events written in the Dambadeniya and Kandyan periods are replete with crucial information. This includes local village and district boundaries, the different ethno-cultural groups that lived in and came to settle in specific places in these kingdoms, migratory events, wars and so on. These texts as well as European diplomatic dispatches and political reports from these times, particularly during the Kandyan period, refer to the cosmopolitanism in the Kandyan kingdom particularly its court, the military, town planning and more importantly the religious tolerance which even surprised the European observers and latter-day colonial rulers. Again, much of this comes from local sources or much less focused upon European dispatches of the time.

Scholars like Prof. Tissa Kumara have collected this kind of information as well as material from much older times and sources. What would the conceptual categories, such as ethnicity, nationalism, cosmopolitanism be like if they are reinterpreted or cast anew through these histories, rather than merely following their European and North American intellectual and historical slants which is the case at present? Among the questions we can ask are, whether these local idiosyncrasies resulted from Buddhism or local cultural practices we may not know much about at present but may exist in inscriptions, in ola leaf manuscripts or in other materials collected and presented by scholars such as Prof. Tissa Kumara.

For me, familiarizing ourselves with this under- and unused archive and employing them for theory-building as well as for fine-tuning what already exists is the main intellectual role we can play in taking our cultural knowledge to the world in a way that might make sense beyond the linguistic and socio-political borders of our country. Whether our universities and scholars are ready to attempt this without falling into the trap of crude nativisms, be satisfied with what has already been collected, but is untheorized or if they would rather lackadaisically remain shackled to ‘western’ epistemologies in the sense articulated by decolonial theorists remains to be seen.

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Extinction in isolation: Sri Lanka’s lizards at the climate crossroads

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Climate change is no longer a distant or abstract threat to Sri Lanka’s biodiversity. It is already driving local extinctions — particularly among lizards trapped in geographically isolated habitats, where even small increases in temperature can mean the difference between survival and disappearance.

Cnemaspis rajakarunai (Adult Male), Salgala, Kegalle District (In a communal egg laying site)

According to research by Buddhi Dayananda, Thilina Surasinghe and Suranjan Karunarathna, Sri Lanka’s narrowly distributed lizards are among the most vulnerable vertebrates in the country, with climate stress intensifying the impacts of habitat loss, fragmentation and naturally small population sizes.

Isolation Turns Warming into an Extinction Trap

Sri Lanka’s rugged topography and long geological isolation have produced extraordinary levels of reptile endemism. Many lizard species are confined to single mountains, forest patches or rock outcrops, existing nowhere else on Earth. While this isolation has driven evolution, it has also created conditions where climate change can rapidly trigger extinction.

“Lizards are especially sensitive to environmental temperature because their metabolism, activity patterns and reproduction depend directly on external conditions,” explains Suranjan Karunarathna, a leading herpetologist and co-author of the study. “When climatic thresholds are exceeded, geographically isolated species cannot shift their ranges. They are effectively trapped.”

The study highlights global projections indicating that nearly 40 percent of local lizard populations could disappear in coming decades, while up to one-fifth of all lizard species worldwide may face extinction by 2080 if current warming trends persist.

Heat Stress, Energy Loss and Reproductive Failure

Rising temperatures force lizards to spend more time in shelters to avoid lethal heat, reducing their foraging time and energy intake. Over time, this leads to chronic energy deficits that undermine growth and reproduction.

“When lizards forage less, they have less energy for breeding,” Karunarathna says. “This doesn’t always cause immediate mortality, but it slowly erodes populations.”

Repeated exposure to sub-lethal warming has been shown to increase embryonic mortality, reduce hatchling size, slow post-hatch growth and compromise body condition. In species with temperature-dependent sex determination, warming can skew sex ratios, threatening long-term population viability.

“These impacts often remain invisible until populations suddenly collapse,” Karunarathna warns.

Tropical Species with No Thermal Buffer

The research highlights that tropical lizards such as those in Sri Lanka are particularly vulnerable because they already live close to their physiological thermal limits. Unlike temperate species, they experience little seasonal temperature variation and therefore possess limited behavioural or evolutionary flexibility to cope with rapid warming.

“Even modest temperature increases can have severe consequences in tropical systems,” Karunarathna explains. “There is very little room for error.”

Climate change also alters habitat structure. Canopy thinning, tree mortality and changes in vegetation density increase ground-level temperatures and reduce the availability of shaded refuges, further exposing lizards to heat stress.

Narrow Ranges, Small Populations

Many Sri Lankan lizards exist as small, isolated populations restricted to narrow altitudinal bands or specific microhabitats. Once these habitats are degraded — through land-use change, quarrying, infrastructure development or climate-driven vegetation loss — entire global populations can vanish.

“Species confined to isolated hills and rock outcrops are especially at risk,” Karunarathna says. “Surrounding human-modified landscapes prevent movement to cooler or more suitable areas.”

Even protected areas offer no guarantee of survival if species occupy only small pockets within reserves. Localised disturbances or microclimatic changes can still result in extinction.

Climate Change Amplifies Human Pressures

The study emphasises that climate change will intensify existing human-driven threats, including habitat fragmentation, land-use change and environmental degradation. Together, these pressures create extinction cascades that disproportionately affect narrowly distributed species.

“Climate change acts as a force multiplier,” Karunarathna explains. “It worsens the impacts of every other threat lizards already face.”

Without targeted conservation action, many species may disappear before they are formally assessed or fully understood.

Science Must Shape Conservation Policy

Researchers stress the urgent need for conservation strategies that recognise micro-endemism and climate vulnerability. They call for stronger environmental impact assessments, climate-informed land-use planning and long-term monitoring of isolated populations.

“We cannot rely on broad conservation measures alone,” Karunarathna says. “Species that exist in a single location require site-specific protection.”

The researchers also highlight the importance of continued taxonomic and ecological research, warning that extinction may outpace scientific discovery.

A Vanishing Evolutionary Legacy

Sri Lanka’s lizards are not merely small reptiles hidden from view; they represent millions of years of unique evolutionary history. Their loss would be irreversible.

“Once these species disappear, they are gone forever,” Karunarathna says. “Climate change is moving faster than our conservation response, and isolation means there are no second chances.”

By Ifham Nizam ✍️

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Online work compatibility of education tablets

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Enabling Education-to-Income Pathways through Dual-Use Devices

The deployment of tablets and Chromebook-based devices for emergency education following Cyclone Ditwah presents an opportunity that extends beyond short-term academic continuity. International experience demonstrates that the same category of devices—when properly governed and configured—can support safe, ethical, and productive online work, particularly for youth and displaced populations. This annex outlines the types of online jobs compatible with such devices, their technical limitations, and their strategic national value within Sri Lanka’s recovery and human capital development agenda.

Compatible Categories of Online Work

At the foundational level, entry-level digital jobs are widely accessible through Android tablets and Chromebook devices. These roles typically require basic digital literacy, language comprehension, and sustained attention rather than advanced computing power. Common examples include data tagging and data validation tasks, AI training activities such as text, image, or voice labelling, online surveys and structured research tasks, digital form filling, and basic transcription work. These activities are routinely hosted on Google task-based platforms, global AI crowdsourcing systems, and micro-task portals operated by international NGOs and UN agencies. Such models have been extensively utilised in countries including India, the Philippines, Kenya, and Nepal, particularly in post-disaster and low-income contexts.

At an intermediate level, freelance and gig-based work becomes viable, especially when Chromebook tablets such as the Lenovo Chromebook Duet or Acer Chromebook Tab are used with detachable keyboards. These devices are well suited for content writing and editing, Sinhala–Tamil–English translation work, social media management, Canva-based design assignments, and virtual assistant roles. Chromebooks excel in this domain because they provide full browser functionality, seamless integration with Google Docs and Sheets (including offline drafting and later (synchronization), reliable file upload capabilities, and stable video conferencing through platforms such as Google Meet or Zoom. Freelancers across Southeast Asia and Africa already rely heavily on Chromebook-class devices for such work, demonstrating their suitability in bandwidth- and power-constrained environments.

A third category involves remote employment and structured part-time work, which is also feasible on Chromebook tablets when paired with a keyboard and headset. These roles include online tutoring support, customer service through chat or email, research assistance, and entry-level digital bookkeeping. While such work requires a more consistent internet connection—often achievable through mobile hotspots—it does not demand high-end hardware. The combination of portability, long battery life, and browser-based platforms makes these devices adequate for such employment models.

Functional Capabilities and Limitations

It is important to clearly distinguish what these devices can and cannot reasonably support. Tablets and Chromebooks are highly effective for web-based jobs, Google Workspace-driven tasks, cloud platforms, online interviews conducted via Zoom or Google Meet, and the use of digital wallets and electronic payment systems. However, they are not designed for heavy video editing, advanced software development environments, or professional engineering and design tools such as AutoCAD. This limitation does not materially reduce their relevance, as global labour market data indicate that approximately 70–75 per cent of online work worldwide is browser-based and fully compatible with tablet-class devices.

Device Suitability for Dual Use

Among commonly deployed devices, the Chromebook Duet and Acer Chromebook Tab offer the strongest balance between learning and online work, making them the most effective all-round options. Android tablets such as the Samsung Galaxy Tab A8 or A9 and the Nokia T20 also perform reliably when supplemented with keyboards, with the latter offering particularly strong battery endurance. Budget-oriented devices such as the Xiaomi Redmi Pad remain suitable for learning and basic work tasks, though with some limitations in sustained productivity. Across all device types, battery efficiency remains a decisive advantage.

Power and Energy Considerations

In disaster-affected and power-scarce environments, tablets outperform conventional laptops. A battery life of 10–12 hours effectively supports a full day of online work or study. Offline drafting of documents with later synchronisation further reduces dependence on continuous connectivity. The use of solar chargers and power banks can extend operational capacity significantly, making these devices particularly suitable for temporary shelters and community learning hubs.

Payment and Income Feasibility in the Sri Lankan Context

From a financial inclusion perspective, these devices are fully compatible with commonly used payment systems. Platforms such as PayPal (within existing national constraints), Payoneer, Wise, LankaQR, local banking applications, and NGO stipend mechanisms are all accessible through Android and ChromeOS environments. Notably, many Sri Lankan freelancers already conduct income-generating activities entirely via mobile devices, confirming the practical feasibility of tablet-based earning.

Strategic National Value

The dual use of tablets for both education and income generation carries significant strategic value for Sri Lanka. It helps prevent long-term dependency by enabling families to rebuild livelihoods, creates structured earning pathways for youth, and transforms disaster relief interventions into resilience-building investments. This approach supports a human resource management–driven recovery model rather than a welfare-dependent one. It aligns directly with the outcomes sought by the Ministry of Education, the Ministry of Labour and HRM reform initiatives, and broader national productivity and competitiveness goals.

Policy Positioning under the Vivonta / PPA Framework

Within the Vivonta/Proprietary Planters Alliance national response framework, it is recommended that these devices be formally positioned as “Learning + Livelihood Tablets.” This designation reflects their dual public value and supports a structured governance approach. Devices should be configured with dual profiles—Student and Worker—supplemented by basic digital job readiness modules, clear ethical guidance on online work, and safeguards against exploitation, particularly for vulnerable populations.

Performance Indicators

From a monitoring perspective, the expected reach of such an intervention is high, encompassing students, youth, and displaced adults. The anticipated impact is very high, as it directly enables the transition from education to income generation. Confidence in the approach is high due to extensive global precedent, while the required effort remains moderate, centering primarily on training, coordination, and platform curation rather than capital-intensive investment.

We respectfully invite the Open University of Sri Lanka, Derana, Sirasa, Rupavahini, DP Education, and Janith Wickramasinghe, National Online Job Coach, to join hands under a single national banner—
“Lighting the Dreams of Sri Lanka’s Emerging Leaders.”

by Lalin I De Silva, FIPM (SL) ✍️

 

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