Features

A Humane Scholar at Oxford

Published

1 year ago

2024/10/27

Thilina Walpola

Oxford University

by Jayantha Perera

I met Barbara Harrel-Bond, an anthropologist, by accident in April 1989. At that time, I was with the USAID-funded Mahaweli Agriculture and Rural Development Project (MARD). One day at lunchtime, an old jeep arrived at the project office. A white woman in her sixties emerged from the jeep. She was in a kurta and was carrying several notebooks in her hands. She smiled and asked me whether I could find someone who knew how Sinhala villagers interacted with Tamil villagers in the war-front area. I told her our professional staff had gone out for lunch, so she should wait until they returned.

With a cigarette on her lips, she introduced herself as Barbara. She was the Director of the Refugee Studies Programme (RSP) and a professor at Oxford University. She was an anthropologist with extensive field experience in Africa. Her book Imposing Aid: Emergency Assistance to Refugees was on international development aid. She was an authority in refugee studies and international refugee law. I told her I am a development anthropologist working on irrigation water management in the Mahaweli. Her eyes beamed with hope, and she shouted, “You are the man I wanted to meet!”

I invited her for lunch at my residence. I offered her a cold beer, which she gulped down in five seconds. She inquired whether it was okay to smoke inside the house. I said yes. I switched on the air conditioner in the sitting room, as it was hot and muggy. She was amused to feel the cold air and said, “It is nice to see an anthropologist who lives in an air-conditioned house in the field.” She thanked me for rescuing her from the scorching sun.

Barbara was interested in the history of rivalries between Tamils and Sinhalese. She asked me about their living conditions, income disparities, gender issues, and political orientation. I told Barbara we could discuss these issues at length if she could stay a few days at Aralaganwila. Barbara said she had planned several meetings and wanted to return to Colombo. She invited me for lunch during the weekend if I were in Colombo.

Our weekend meeting in Colombo was intellectually stimulating. Each time we discussed a new topic, she ordered more tea or beer while typing her notes into her laptop. It was a primitive machine with two cassette spools. One had the WordStar programme, and the other had her notes.

Barbara invited me to the RSP to deliver a few lectures on Sri Lanka, specifically its political structure and ethnic tensions. She told me that I could stay at her place in Oxford. After about two months, I received an invitation letter and a return air ticket from the RSP. When I reached Oxford, she told me she had sent a taxi to Heathrow Airport to bring me to Oxford. But she forgot to tell me where to meet the taxi driver.

Staying at her place in Oxford was an experience. She lived in an old house on St. Giles. I found a sleeping corner on a cosy sofa in her large living room when I arrived. She introduced me to two Ugandan refugees and an undergrad from a European University. The two Ugandans prepared the dinner. They cooked lamb in peanut gravy, and we all had that with rice and a salad.

After dinner, we all met in Barbara’s large bedroom to watch TV and discuss the day’s work and tomorrow’s programme. She lay down on her bed and listened to our discussions. She occasionally asked a question or two. That day, the TV did not work. She asked us whether one of us could check the TV. Only the young European women volunteered to check it. She said the electric plug was not correctly installed, but she quickly fixed it. Barbara laughed and teased others, saying, “I did not expect anthropologists to know how to turn on a TV.”

When I woke up the following day, Barbara had already brewed coffee. We took our cups to her library and settled into two comfortable chairs. Until 8 a.m., we discussed Sri Lanka’s socio-political conditions and the outlines of my upcoming two lectures. Barbara mentioned inviting several professors and lecturers from the law and development faculties to the lectures. She also hinted that I might join her as a research fellow shortly.

Before I left for Colombo, Barbara told me she would raise funds to recruit an anthropologist from the third world as a fellow. She explained the fellowship as teaching a two-term course at the postgraduate level on field methods in social sciences and qualitative data analysis. The fellow would also conduct an annual summer school on refugee studies. Later, she wrote, “We need someone like you who combines research and practical experience and can write well in English.”

Two months later, Barbara informed me that the RSP had raised funds for a Ford fellowship. She asked whether I would be interested in being the first Ford Fellow at the RSP. I did not answer her for two weeks as I was in a dilemma. I was happy at MARD. The Chief-of-Party was also an anthropologist with whom I shared my views on development. He was an amiable fellow. He told me I should stay with him on the project for at least five years. I had finished only 30 months of my contract. Life in the Mahaweli was comfortable, although there were two significant risks: the LTTE and wild elephants.

At that time, an official at the Mahaweli Ministry wanted more control over the project consultants. He complained to USAID I had written a paper criticising the Sri Lankan government’s agricultural policies. He tried to twist the paper’s contents to prove that I was against the MARD Project. The USAID held a formal meeting in which the DAI and the Mahaweli Development Ministry participated. The USAID and the DAI did not find any fault with my paper. However, the official was adamant that some action should be taken against me. I submitted my resignation letter to the Chief of Party. He was relieved to receive my resignation as he did not want to disagree with the government. I accepted the Ford fellowship at the RSP in Oxford. This decision filled me with a sense of accomplishment and inspiration for the future.

Barbara Harrel-Bond

Barbara introduced me to her staff on my first day at the RSP. The Administrative Officer, Belinda, brought a cake and coffee to celebrate my arrival. Soon after coffee, Barbara took about 10 portrait photographs of me at the entrance to the RSP. When I asked her why she took so many photos, she smiled and said that a good photographer should take a dozen photographs before selecting the best one. Barbara had written an editorial about me for the RSP Newsletter and included my photograph. Barbara took me to the Bodleian Library and introduced me to the librarian by saying: “This is Dr Perera, an anthropologist from Sri Lanka, our Ford Fellow for the next 18 months. Unfortunately, he got his doctorate from the radical Sussex University. But I assure you he would behave well and surely not set fire to the library.”

Among the few library rules was the hilarious one that says ‘not setting fire to the library’ in the application form. Barbara got my library membership and showed me its various sections. She then took me to Oxfam Bookshop, where one could buy second-hand books for a fraction of their original prices. Barbara bought most of her books from the Oxfam Bookshop. She said I could borrow any book from her personal library at home.

Barbara invited me to her house whenever she had leisure time, especially on weekends. We discussed family histories, reasons for studying anthropology, and my plans. Barbara said that she grew up as the only daughter of a postman in a remote part of South Dakota, USA. As a young woman, she loved horse riding in the Dakota plains. She married an American pastor in 1951 and accompanied him to Oxford in the mid-1960s. Her husband studied for a doctorate and returned to the USA without completing his studies. Barbara refused to return with him to the USA and stayed in Oxford.

She joined the Institute of Social Anthropology, where she earned a doctorate in Social Anthropology. Barbara called herself a legal anthropologist. She divorced her husband and married Samuel Okeke, a Nigerian engineer, in 1974 while doing fieldwork in Sierra Leone in West Africa. Barbara left him and returned to Oxford to devote her time to refugees. In 1982, she established the RSP at Oxford University.

Barbara worked with many people in her smoke-filled room at the RSP. She listened intently to each speaker. If she had any questions, she would probe them. The discussions prolonged until all agreed on a solution or conclusion. She found time between such meetings, sometimes as little as 15 minutes, to open her unfinished memos and articles to work on them. She gave me her draft memos and papers to comment on. Every month, she received several international journal articles for review. She, with a naughty smile on her face, just palmed them off to me to review. She read and edited each of my draft reviews. Barbara then scanned and emailed it to the concerned journal or the publisher. I remember examining about 10 journal articles.

I prepared detailed notes for each lecture on the field methods course. I distributed them in advance among my students from the Oxford Department of International Development and the Royal Forestry Institute. Barbara read them with interest and encouraged me to include my field experience to substantiate and illuminate my arguments. Sometimes, she attended my classes and initiated lively discussions. Barbara told me that it had been the tradition that the teacher who finishes his/her lecture at 5 p.m. or after should take the students for a beer at a nearby pub. Barbara introduced me to the staff of a large pub. At the bar, I asked her, “Is this the pub where anthropologists meet?” She said, “No, this is a pub where some anthropologists meet.”

She explained that anthropologists were a peculiar and dangerous tribe; one could see many feuds and resentment among them. She said a few of them believed anthropologists should live in primitive societies. She added, “But they smoke pipes and drink whiskey whenever an opportunity arises. They are known for carrying pocket whiskey flasks.” She told me that some of them ridiculed and criticised her for doing refugee studies, which they thought was a field of study in political science.

Barbara was a leader of a local group in Oxford that pressed local authorities to approve an “illegal” structure a sculptor had built in 1986 on a rooftop — a 25-foot colourful fibreglass shark that looked as if it had fallen from the sky and penetrated the roof. The fall symbolised the anger, desperation, and impotence of local people in the wake of the bombing of Libya by American warplanes, which regularly flew over Oxford.

The sculptor also wanted to make a statement against nuclear weapons. The falling shark was a metaphor for a falling atomic bomb. She petitioned local authorities, demanding freedom to protest the state’s follies. Barbara wrote to the House of Commons and House of Lords demanding that the state protect its citizens’ freedom of expression. She emphasised that the state should not encourage aggressors and bullies, such as Americans, to use the UK’s airspace to harm others.

Once Barbara returned from London with four young men and a young woman. They were refugees from Africa who just landed in London. The International Red Cross had received them and handed them over to Barbara to educate and find sources of income for them. She introduced them to the RSP staff, saying they were members of the RSP family. Barbara asked me to meet her at her residence at 6 p.m. on the same day. She wanted to discuss how to accommodate five refugees.

Barbara had a few folded bed frames. She opened a small storeroom in the basement and took out bedding and pillows. The four men and the woman helped her to make temporary beds. Barbara invited the woman to sleep in her bedroom. I asked Barbara about their dinner. She told me, “Let us cook rice and a meat curry. I know you are a good cook.” I cooked rice and beef curry with carrots and made a large salad. Barbara joined the group for dinner. She said, “Today is one of my happiest days. I have you five with me. We can do lots of things together. A refugee is not a burden but an asset, and that is what I always tell the world.”

Barbara enrolled the five refugees at the university as part-time students. She found work for them as an unskilled waiters at a restaurant. Three months later, I visited the restaurant with Barbara to see the four men. They served us tea with dignity, style, and happy faces. Barbara had sent the woman of the group to a fashion house to learn how to make fancy clothes. Once, the woman brought a beautiful long dress for Barbara. At the bottom of the dress was a slogan – ‘Do not mess up with Arizona!’ Barbara loved this dress. One day, Barbara showed me one of the men holding hands with a white woman on the road. Barbara was happy to see them and said, “They have gone native!”

Barbara nominated me to represent the RSP at the American Anthropological Association’s annual meetings in New Orleans. At the meetings, I introduced RSP publications and research and action plans. I discussed with agencies the possibility of getting support for refugee studies and summer refugee training programmes. Two months later, Barbara asked me to go to New Delhi, India, to represent the RSP at the international refugee studies conference. My main task at the meeting was identifying potential research and study fellows and encouraging them to visit the RSP. I read a research article at the conference on ‘social structure and political development in Sri Lanka.’ Later, the Journal of Refugee Studies at Oxford published it.

The most challenging task at the RSP was coordinating its summer refugee studies programme. About 20 participants came from several countries, and their demands varied widely. Some reported that English food could have been better in quality and taste. Many were more interested in visiting university colleges and nearby towns than attending the courses. Barbara’s idea was that if at least a few participants learned about refugee issues and were determined to support them, the world would become a better place for all of us.

A friend at the RSP told me that Barbara was absent-minded. A story circulating at the RSP was Barbara had three cats, and one of them had three kittens. The mother cat kept her babies in the washing machine’s drum. One day, without checking, Barbara threw a few pieces of her clothes into the drum, started the machine, and went away. When she returned home, she opened the washing machine to see the tragedy she had caused. Three kittens were beyond recognition, and their fur and flesh clung to her clothes!

By the end of my stay in Oxford, Barbara frantically looked for more funds to keep me at the RSP. Belinda took me to London and Cambridge for interviews with various sponsors. At that time, a development consultancy company called ITAD UK contacted me regarding a senior position in a World Bank-funded project in Sindh, Pakistan. I told Barbara about the new opening. She was happy to hear the news and advised me to take the job. She wanted me to do fieldwork and write about internal displacement in Pakistan. She also sent a recommendation letter to the ITAD saying that whoever gets my services should consider themselves fortunate.

Barbara was bestowed the Order of British Empire (OBE) in 2005 for refugee and forced migration studies and services. She died in 2018 at the age of 85 years. Tributes and obituaries poured in from around the world. In tributes and obituaries, I saw the words ‘campaigner’, ‘activist,’ and ‘champion. ‘An obituary aptly summarised her life – “She grew up riding horses across the plains. Something of the Wild West never left her.”

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Features

Lasting solutions require consensus

Published

10 hours ago

2026/02/17

Sahan Weerasooriya

Social Media training

Problems and solutions in plural societies like Sri Lanka’s which have deep rooted ethnic, religious and linguistic cleavages require a consciously inclusive approach. A major challenge for any government in Sri Lanka is to correctly identify the problems faced by different groups with strong identities and find solutions to them. The durability of democratic systems in divided societies depends less on electoral victories than on institutionalised inclusion, consultation, and negotiated compromise. When problems are defined only through the lens of a single political formation, even one that enjoys a large electoral mandate, such as obtained by the NPP government, the policy prescriptions derived from that diagnosis will likely overlook the experiences of communities that may remain outside the ruling party. The result could end up being resistance to those policies, uneven implementation and eventual political backlash.

A recent survey done by the National Peace Council (NPC), in Jaffna, in the North, at a focus group discussion for young people on citizen perception in the electoral process, revealed interesting developments. The results of the NPC micro survey support the findings of the national survey by Verite Research that found that government approval rating stood at 65 percent in early February 2026. A majority of the respondents in Jaffna affirm that they feel safer and more fairly treated than in the past. There is a clear improving trend to be seen in some areas, but not in all. This survey of predominantly young and educated respondents shows 78 percent saying livelihood has improved and an equal percentage feeling safe in daily life. 75 percent express satisfaction with the new government and 64 percent believe the state treats their language and culture fairly. These are not insignificant gains in a region that bore the brunt of three decades of war.

Yet the same survey reveals deep reservations that temper this optimism. Only 25 percent are satisfied with the handling of past issues. An equal percentage see no change in land and military related concerns. Most strikingly, almost 90 percent are worried about land being taken without consent for religious purposes. A significant number are uncertain whether the future will be better. These negative sentiments cannot be brushed aside as marginal. They point to unresolved structural questions relating to land rights, demilitarisation, accountability and the locus of political power. If these issues are not addressed sooner rather than later, the current stability may prove fragile. This suggests the need to build consensus with other parties to ensure long-term stability and legitimacy, and the need for partnership to address national issues.

NPP Absence

National or local level problems solving is unlikely to be successful in the longer term if it only proceeds from the thinking of one group of people even if they are the most enlightened. Problem solving requires the engagement of those from different ethno-religious, caste and political backgrounds to get a diversity of ideas and possible solutions. It does not mean getting corrupted or having to give up the good for the worse. It means testing ideas in the public sphere. Legitimacy flows not merely from winning elections but from the quality of public reasoning that precedes decision-making. The experience of successful post-conflict societies shows that long term peace and development are built through dialogue platforms where civil society organisations, political actors, business communities, and local representatives jointly define problems before negotiating policy responses.

As a civil society organisation, the National Peace Council engages in a variety of public activities that focus on awareness and relationship building across communities. Participants in those activities include community leaders, religious clergy, local level government officials and grassroots political party representatives. However, along with other civil society organisations, NPC has been finding it difficult to get the participation of members of the NPP at those events. The excuse given for the absence of ruling party members is that they are too busy as they are involved in a plenitude of activities. The question is whether the ruling party members have too much on their plate or whether it is due to a reluctance to work with others.

The general belief is that those from the ruling party need to get special permission from the party hierarchy for activities organised by groups not under their control. The reluctance of the ruling party to permit its members to join the activities of other organisations may be the concern that they will get ideas that are different from those held by the party leadership. The concern may be that these different ideas will either corrupt the ruling party members or cause dissent within the ranks of the ruling party. But lasting reform in a plural society requires precisely this exposure. If 90 percent of surveyed youth in Jaffna are worried about land issues, then engaging them, rather than shielding party representatives from uncomfortable conversations, is essential for accurate problem identification.

North Star

The Leader of the Lanka Sama Samaja Party (LSSP), Prof Tissa Vitarana, who passed away last week, gave the example for national level problem solving. As a government minister he took on the challenge the protracted ethnic conflict that led to three decades of war. He set his mind on the solution and engaged with all but never veered from his conviction about what the solution would be. This was the North Star to him, said his son to me at his funeral, the direction to which the Compass (Malimawa) pointed at all times. Prof Vitarana held the view that in a diverse and plural society there was a need to devolve power and share power in a structured way between the majority community and minority communities. His example illustrates that engagement does not require ideological capitulation. It requires clarity of purpose combined with openness to dialogue.

The ethnic and religious peace that prevails today owes much to the efforts of people like Prof Vitarana and other like-minded persons and groups which, for many years, engaged as underdogs with those who were more powerful. The commitment to equality of citizenship, non-racism, non-extremism and non-discrimination, upheld by the present government, comes from this foundation. But the NPC survey suggests that symbolic recognition and improved daily safety are not enough. Respondents prioritise personal safety, truth regarding missing persons, return of land, language use and reduction of military involvement. They are also asking for jobs after graduation, local economic opportunity, protection of property rights, and tangible improvements that allow them to remain in Jaffna rather than migrate.

If solutions are to be lasting they cannot be unilaterally imposed by one party on the others. Lasting solutions cannot be unilateral solutions. They must emerge from a shared diagnosis of the country’s deepest problems and from a willingness to address the negative sentiments that persist beneath the surface of cautious optimism. Only then can progress be secured against reversal and anchored in the consent of the wider polity. Engaging with the opposition can help mitigate the hyper-confrontational and divisive political culture of the past. This means that the ruling party needs to consider not only how to protect its existing members by cloistering them from those who think differently but also expand its vision and membership by convincing others to join them in problem solving at multiple levels. This requires engagement and not avoidance or withdrawal.

by Jehan Perera

Features

Unpacking public responses to educational reforms

Published

10 hours ago

2026/02/17

Sahan Weerasooriya

A pro-government demonstration calling for the implementation of the education reforms. (A file photo)

As the debate on educational reforms rages, I find it useful to pay as much attention to the reactions they have excited as we do to the content of the reforms. Such reactions are a reflection of how education is understood in our society, and this understanding – along with the priorities it gives rise to – must necessarily be taken into account in education policy, including and especially reform. My aim in this piece, however, is to couple this public engagement with critical reflection on the historical-structural realities that structure our possibilities in the global market, and briefly discuss the role of academics in this endeavour.

Two broad reactions

The reactions to the proposed reforms can be broadly categorised into ‘pro’ and ‘anti’. I will discuss the latter first. Most of the backlash against the reforms seems to be directed at the issue of a gay dating site, accidentally being linked to the Grade 6 English module. While the importance of rigour cannot be overstated in such a process, the sheer volume of the energies concentrated on this is also indicative of how hopelessly homophobic our society is, especially its educators, including those in trade unions. These dispositions are a crucial part of the reason why educational reforms are needed in the first place. If only there was a fraction of the interest in ‘keeping up with the rest of the world’ in terms of IT, skills, and so on, in this area as well!

Then there is the opposition mounted by teachers’ trade unions and others about the process of the reforms not being very democratic, which I (and many others in higher education, as evidenced by a recent statement, available at https://island.lk/general-educational-reforms-to-what-purpose-a-statement-by-state-university-teachers/ ) fully agree with. But I earnestly hope the conversation is not usurped by those wanting to promote heteronormativity, further entrenching bigotry only education itself can save us from. With this important qualification, I, too, believe the government should open up the reform process to the public, rather than just ‘informing’ them of it.

It is unclear both as to why the process had to be behind closed doors, as well as why the government seems to be in a hurry to push the reforms through. Considering other recent developments, like the continued extension of emergency rule, tabling of the Protection of the State from Terrorism Act (PSTA), and proposing a new Authority for the protection of the Central Highlands (as is famously known, Authorities directly come under the Executive, and, therefore, further strengthen the Presidency; a reasonable question would be as to why the existing apparatus cannot be strengthened for this purpose), this appears especially suspect.

Further, according to the Secretary to the MOE Nalaka Kaluwewa: “The full framework for the [education] reforms was already in place [when the Dissanayake government took office]” (https://www.wsws.org/en/articles/2025/08/12/wxua-a12.html, citing The Morning, July 29). Given the ideological inclinations of the former Wickremesinghe government and the IMF negotiations taking place at the time, the continuation of education reforms, initiated in such a context with very little modification, leaves little doubt as to their intent: to facilitate the churning out of cheap labour for the global market (with very little cushioning from external shocks and reproducing global inequalities), while raising enough revenue in the process to service debt.

This process privileges STEM subjects, which are “considered to contribute to higher levels of ‘employability’ among their graduates … With their emphasis on transferable skills and demonstrable competency levels, STEM subjects provide tools that are well suited for the abstraction of labour required by capitalism, particularly at the global level where comparability across a wide array of labour markets matters more than ever before” (my own previous piece in this column on 29 October 2024). Humanities and Social Sciences (HSS) subjects are deprioritised as a result. However, the wisdom of an education policy that is solely focused on responding to the global market has been questioned in this column and elsewhere, both because the global market has no reason to prioritise our needs as well as because such an orientation comes at the cost of a strategy for improving the conditions within Sri Lanka, in all sectors. This is why we need a more emancipatory vision for education geared towards building a fairer society domestically where the fruits of prosperity are enjoyed by all.

The second broad reaction to the reforms is to earnestly embrace them. The reasons behind this need to be taken seriously, although it echoes the mantra of the global market. According to one parent participating in a protest against the halting of the reform process: “The world is moving forward with new inventions and technology, but here in Sri Lanka, our children are still burdened with outdated methods. Opposition politicians send their children to international schools or abroad, while ours depend on free education. Stopping these reforms is the lowest act I’ve seen as a mother” (https://www.newsfirst.lk/2026/01/17/pro-educational-reforms-protests-spread-across-sri-lanka). While it is worth mentioning that it is not only the opposition, nor in fact only politicians, who send their children to international schools and abroad, the point holds. Updating the curriculum to reflect the changing needs of a society will invariably strengthen the case for free education. However, as mentioned before, if not combined with a vision for harnessing education’s emancipatory potential for the country, such a move would simply translate into one of integrating Sri Lanka to the world market to produce cheap labour for the colonial and neocolonial masters.

According to another parent in a similar protest: “Our children were excited about lighter schoolbags and a better future. Now they are left in despair” (https://www.newsfirst.lk/2026/01/17/pro-educational-reforms-protests-spread-across-sri-lanka). Again, a valid concern, but one that seems to be completely buying into the rhetoric of the government. As many pieces in this column have already shown, even though the structure of assessments will shift from exam-heavy to more interim forms of assessment (which is very welcome), the number of modules/subjects will actually increase, pushing a greater, not lesser, workload on students.

A file photo of a satyagraha against education reforms

What kind of education?

The ‘pro’ reactions outlined above stem from valid concerns, and, therefore, need to be taken seriously. Relatedly, we have to keep in mind that opening the process up to public engagement will not necessarily result in some of the outcomes, those particularly in the HSS academic community, would like to see, such as increasing the HSS component in the syllabus, changing weightages assigned to such subjects, reintroducing them to the basket of mandatory subjects, etc., because of the increasing traction of STEM subjects as a surer way to lock in a good future income.

Academics do have a role to play here, though: 1) actively engage with various groups of people to understand their rationales behind supporting or opposing the reforms; 2) reflect on how such preferences are constituted, and what they in turn contribute towards constituting (including the global and local patterns of accumulation and structures of oppression they perpetuate); 3) bring these reflections back into further conversations, enabling a mutually conditioning exchange; 4) collectively work out a plan for reforming education based on the above, preferably in an arrangement that directly informs policy. A reform process informed by such a dialectical exchange, and a system of education based on the results of these reflections, will have greater substantive value while also responding to the changing times.

Two important prerequisites for this kind of endeavour to succeed are that first, academics participate, irrespective of whether they publicly endorsed this government or not, and second, that the government responds with humility and accountability, without denial and shifting the blame on to individuals. While we cannot help the second, we can start with the first.

Conclusion

For a government that came into power riding the wave of ‘system change’, it is perhaps more important than for any other government that these reforms are done for the right reasons, not to mention following the right methods (of consultation and deliberation). For instance, developing soft skills or incorporating vocational education to the curriculum could be done either in a way that reproduces Sri Lanka’s marginality in the global economic order (which is ‘system preservation’), or lays the groundwork to develop a workforce first and foremost for the country, limited as this approach may be. An inextricable concern is what is denoted by ‘the country’ here: a few affluent groups, a majority ethno-religious category, or everyone living here? How we define ‘the country’ will centrally influence how education policy (among others) will be formulated, just as much as the quality of education influences how we – students, teachers, parents, policymakers, bureaucrats, ‘experts’ – think about such categories. That is precisely why more thought should go to education policymaking than perhaps any other sector.

(Hasini Lecamwasam is attached to the Department of Political Science, University of Peradeniya).

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

Features

Chef’s daughter cooking up a storm…

Published

10 hours ago

2026/02/17

Sahan Weerasooriya

Emma being congratulated on her debut Sinhala single // Emma Shanaya: At the launch of ‘Sanasum Mawana

Don Sherman was quite a popular figure in the entertainment scene but now he is better known as the Singing Chef and that’s because he turns out some yummy dishes at his restaurant, in Rajagiriya.

However, now the spotlight is gradually focusing on his daughter Emma Shanaya who has turned out to be a very talented singer.

In fact, we have spotlighted her in The Island a couple of times and she is in the limelight, once gain.

When Emma released her debut music video, titled ‘You Made Me Feel,’ the feedback was very encouraging and at that point in time she said “I only want to keep doing bigger and greater things and ‘You Made Me Feel’ is the very first step to a long journey.”

Emma, who resides in Melbourne, Australia, is in Sri Lanka, at the moment, and has released her very first Sinhala single.

“I’m back in Sri Lanka with a brand new single and this time it’s a Sinhalese song … yes, my debut Sinhala song ‘Sanasum Mawana’ (Bloom like a Flower).

“This song is very special to me as I wrote the lyrics in English and then got it translated and re-written by my mother, and my amazing and very talented producer Thilina Boralessa. Thilina also composed the music, and mix and master of the track.”

Emma went on to say that instead of a love song, or a young romance, she wanted to give the Sri Lankan audience a debut song with some meaning and substance that will portray her, not only as an artiste, but as the person she is.

Says Emma: “‘Sanasum Mawana’ is about life, love and the essence of a woman. This song is for the special woman in your life, whether it be your mother, sister, friend, daughter or partner. I personally dedicate this song to my mother. I wouldn’t be where I am right now if it weren’t for her.”

On Friday, 30th January, ‘Sanasum Mawana’ went live on YouTube and all streaming platforms, and just before it went live, she went on to say, they had a wonderful and intimate launch event at her father’s institute/ restaurant, the ‘Don Sherman Institute’ in Rajagiriya.

It was an evening of celebration, good food and great vibes and the event was also an introduction to Emma Shanaya the person and artiste.

Emma also mentioned that she is Sri Lanka for an extended period – a “work holiday”.

“I would like to expand my creativity in Sri Lanka and see the opportunities the island has in store for me. I look forward to singing, modelling, and acting opportunities, and to work with some wonderful people.

“Thank you to everyone that is by my side, supporting me on this new and exciting journey. I can’t wait to bring you more and continue to bloom like a flower.”