Opinion
An object lesson in archaeological conservation
By ROHANA R. WASALA
“Buvaneka Hotel? I wanted to renovate the place when I was Secretary to the Urban Development Authority, but the owner refused to give it up for renovation.”
– An amused President Gotabaya Rajapaksa to some young men who asked him, during his campaign tour of the Kurunegala district on July 27, why he kept silent when ‘our kingdom’ was bulldozed.
The demolition of a part of a building that is claimed to be an archaeological site at Kurunegala on the night of July 14, 2020 caused quite a furore, with the opposition seizing the opportunity offered by the surreptitious operation to sling mud at the government. Why the mayor had to do it in the night in such a hurry is yet to be explained, though. In any case, the controversy ignited manna from heaven for the opposition, which is starved of a proper platform for fighting the election. Aside from this, the main opposition speakers are providing much needed comic relief for the corona-fears-hit audiences across the country through their empty campaign speeches. They have suddenly become champion protectors of the country’s cultural heritage. But it is hardly likely that the senior SLPP leaders would have allowed this act of (apparently accidental) vandalism to be committed, had they had an inkling of it beforehand, particularly in this run-up-to one of the most decisive general elections held in the country.
Be that as it may, the episode has drawn the attention of all Sri Lankans to a chronic issue that is directly connected with the national security and the political stability of the Sri Lankan state: The deliberate destruction/vandalizing/encroachment of Sri Lanka’s archaeological sites by treasure hunters and politically motivated individuals. The protection, through preservation and conservation, of the country’s rich ancient cultural heritage is a national responsibility that no government can ignore. There are six main parties who are bound to take an interest in this issue; they are, to list them at random: Buddhist monks, the general public, historians and archaeologists, relevant state officials, politicians in general, and the government including the prime minister and the executive president.
The president laughed when the young men queried him about the Kurunegala affair because he knew that the name ‘Buvaneka’ had been dragged into it by interested parties to embarrass the government (by highlighting its supposed antiquity). With that answer, he pricked the balloon of false propaganda of the opposition. But there is no doubt that he takes the problem that underlies the whole affair seriously. It is very clear that, taken out of that context, it is no laughing matter, though some people may try to make it out to be something trivial and funny. In fact, the enemies of the country want to represent even the general election as a form of meaningless theatrical entertainment, which in reality this time is the moment of truth for the whole national electorate.
Incidentally, there are those who are ever ready to attack the recorded history of the Sinhalese in their unique homeland as mere fiction. But knowledgeable local and foreign scholars, from colonial times to the present, have increasingly accepted it as something well authenticated by carefully composed ancient chronicles and orally transmitted folk traditions, both supported by epigraphical evidence and archaeological remains found across the length and breadth of the island. Ill-informed cynics are making the public outrage caused by the thoughtless act a pretext for taking a playful dig at those who are speaking up for safeguarding the rights of the variously besieged majority community. It is a different matter that there are a few political opportunists, fakes, and rogues among them as there are among members of other communities. Recent evidence unearthed by archaeologists (some of them from foreign universities) has proved that a primitive people, who had nevertheless reached a relatively advanced stage of civilization, had inhabited the central mountainous region of the island at least some four and a half thousand years ago, which hints at the fact that the history of the Sinhalese is much older than the recorded 2500 years. The Ravana story may be a myth, but it is quite possible that it is based on a regal ancestor of the Sinhalese who fought invasions from abroad, thousands years before the time that the Mahavamsa began. Some amateur ‘archaeologists’ in the form of YouTubers, apparently none of them with any expertise in the most difficult domain of archaeology, at various levels of commitment to the discovery of the scientific truth from one hundred percent to zero percent, are turning out videos these days about real or imagined archaeological sites. Some of them have published, for example, pictures of mysterious symbolic shapes carved on a rock in a hardly accessible place, and a drawing of what looks like a dinosaur on another rock face; images worthy of being included in Erich Von Daniken’s 1968 classic ‘Chariots of the Gods’. A responsible future government must turn its attention to this so-called ‘Ravana’ aspect of Sri Lanka’s pre-history and bring it under the purview of proper archaeological study. The nation can exploit its potential for the benefit of the country in terms of its economy through the promotion of tourism, in addition to contributing to the global store of human knowledge. Equally important, it will serve to ensure the future survival of the Sinhalese as a race with their unique historical identity. So, the uproar raised about the Kurunegala incident, by both genuine and mischief-making protestors, is not something to be dismissed with a laugh.
There cannot be any dispute about the fact that the structure at the place in question is of archaeological value, though the mayor of Kurunegala, the first citizen of the city, is unaware of it. Ignorance is no excuse for a person who holds such a responsible position. However, the Adhikarana Sanga Nayake Thera of Vayamba, at a meeting of the Bauddha Upadeshaka Sabhava with the President (July 25) said that the place in question was not an archaeological site, and that it was a big lie to say that it was. He said that there was no ‘raja sabha mandapaya’ (a royal assembly hall) belonging to king Bhuvanekabahu II at that place. In his detailed explanation of its recent history of about twenty years, he described how the premises was leased out by the municipal council during that period and was enlarged and used for various commercial purposes such as running a wine shop,a restaurant, a barber shop, and even for renting out rooms for couples. It was implied that the enlargement of the building by adding rooms, etc was done without proper official authorization. But the monk admitted that the old structure that originally stood there, and apparently still stands there partly damaged or tampered with, was one built more than one hundred years ago, which means that the place should be considered an archaeological site. An archaeologist who was seen at the meeting, had stated to a local newspaper on an earlier occasion, that, according to popular tradition, the particular place was where king Bhuvanekabahu II held assizes/adjudged cases (though there was no literary or other evidence to support this.)
With apologies to historians and archaeologists, I would like to suggest, as a lay reader, that unrelated information available in Chapter XC (90) of the Mahavansa (continued in the Culavansa) lends credence to the popular tradition that the archaeologist monk mentioned. That particular chapter narrates the goings on in a period of history made noteworthy by such events as the relocation of the seat of government from time to time to Dambadeniya, Kurunegala, and Yapahuwa, internecine conflicts triggered by succession disputes sometimes leading to torture, treachery and murder, foreign invasions, the forced removal of the Tooth Relic to the captivity of Pandyans in south India by ‘a chief among Tamils, known as Ariya Cakkavatti, albeit he was not an Ariya’, and its eventual recovery through sophisticated diplomacy, cultural activity in the service of Buddhism and the advancement of letters under royal patronage, and the construction of architectural monuments such as the magnificent rock fortress city of Yapahuwa (Subha-pabbata/Subhacala/Subagiri) built by king Bhuvanekabahu I, whose son Bhuvanekabahu II ruled at Kurunegala from 1293-1302 CE. That the latter dispensed justice from a specially constructed assembly hall in Kurunegala is not an improbability. Has any archaeologist tried to compare the architectural features of the alleged royal assembly hall to those found at Yapahuwa? In view of these facts, talking further about the issue is worth our while. (The Mahavansa references here are based on Mudaliyar L.C. Wijesinha’s translation of 1889.)
The issue involves the accidental or premeditated partial destruction of a heritage building and its complex aftermath. The foreign and local supporters of the opposition may not see any complexity in either, the former because of their ignorance of, and the latter because of their indifference to, the cultural sensitivities and political perceptions of the majority Sinhalese Buddhist community. Hence they might express adverse opinions about the way the six categories of people responded to the incident.
It is obvious that the mayor found himself caught off his guard when he was confronted with the fact that what was partly demolished was of archaeological value. A minister of the present government, a prominent member of the SLPP (who comes from a business background, and who was a UNP stalwart before he joined the Mahinda camp), rushed to his rescue, which one of his cabinet colleagues publicly criticised. If some irregularity was committed in this instance, which is very likely, there is a common heritage of guilt to be shared by the incumbent and previous mayors, possibly of a different political colour. Prime minister Mahinda Rajapaksa, it seemed, showed a special interest in the matter as the Buddha Sasana and Cultural Affairs minister in the caretaker administration. The opposition’s exploitation of the mayor’s blunder to attack the government to gain some propaganda advantage over it, with the elections round the corner, made the PM’s concern in this regard look like a mark of what they probably thought was his desire to engage in some sort of damage control exercise. In my opinion, there was absolutely no need for the government to register a panicked response. What happened was what could have happened under any government, notwithstanding its desire to avoid such embarrassment or to ensure rectification of what went wrong in such a situation. The commercial abuse of that place, and many other similar registered and unregistered heritage sites, for that matter, has persisted for a long time, in some cases, with the connivance of or under the sponsorship of politicians in the local authorities allied to main parties. Party leaders have no control over this. In politically motivated attacks on the country’s ancient Buddhist heritage in the east particularly, government officials become vulnerable to manipulation by well funded extremists through bribery.
The only solution is to leave matters to the law enforcement authorities so they can take appropriate action. The PM-appointed committee has made some recommendations (conservation of the part damaged while preserving its archaeological features, acquisition of the building by the Department of Archaeology, requesting the RDA to revise its road widening plan at this point, prosecuting the persons responsible for the destruction, and recovering the cost of conservation from the institutions or individuals responsible for the destruction) which are to be implemented in the short term. Once the building is restored and the problem, whatever it is, that required a part of it to be bulldozed under cover of the night is sorted out, the current mode of its utilization will have to be reviewed, and changes introduced as appropriate. At the meeting he had with the monks of the Bauddha Upadeshaka Sabhava on July 25, the President decided to appoint a committee of experts to propose changes to the Antiquities Ordinance, which should ensure more robust implementation of the law relating to archaeological places, buildings and objects than now.
Even in the past, the President was the only person in a position of power (as defence secretary) who made a meaningful intervention in the problem first articulated by Buddhist monks (for example, Kuragala). Meanwhile, it will be very important to depoliticize and de-communalize the problem of protecting the archaeological relics of the country’s glorious Buddhist past. Most of the vulnerable sites lie in the north and east, where the island civilization started as currently understood. Actually there is no threat to them from the mainstream Tamil and Muslim minority communities who respectively dominate those provinces in terms of population numbers, but these peaceful people are held hostage by a few political extremists (separatists and jihadists). Tamils and Muslims are not confined to these two provinces. More than 50% of them live in the south among the Sinhalese. The protection of archaeological sites has become a political and communal issue, particularly in the north and east, because of the extremists. The government must enlist the support of ordinary Tamils and Muslims in these areas to overcome the extremists, and then entrust the protection of the archaeological sites to people of all three communities who live there, in addition to ensuring state protection of the same. Places already encroached upon must be re-acquired by the state, and people already settled on them gradually relocated elsewhere, with the least inconvenience to them.
These archaeological treasures belong equally to all present day Sri Lankans irrespective of ethnicity. In economic terms, the existence of ancient historical places and objects is beneficial to the people who today inhabit the relevant areas, because they are tourist attractions. Most people are ignorant of the value of these relics of the past. Popular ignorance facilitates the extremists’ anti-national activities. One of the lessons taught by the Kurunegala episode is about the importance of adequate awareness on the part of the officialdom, as well as the populace, regarding the country’s inestimable archaeological treasures.
Opinion
Prisoners are human beings
In developed countries such as US, prisons are normally built, far away from City Areas because of the risk of prison breaking as happened recently in Negombo. For an example, just imagine what would be the fate of people around Colombo, if an attempt to break the jail in Welikada become a success. Therefore, it is necessary to introduce strategies to discipline our prisoners to behave as humans rather than simply displaying above message to the people living outside of the prison, as happened in Sri Lanka. To materialised above idea. it is necessary discipline prisoners mentally before they are released. As a Buddhist country we could develop our own model based on Buddhist Stanza such as Wanaropa Sutta to mentally discipline the prisoners. According to that Stanza, people would naturally get self-disciplined themselves while growing trees
The World Health Organization (WHO) reports, that the food not only affects physical and mental health, but is also key to successful rehabilitation and resettlement after release of prisoners. Recognizing this, many organisations and correctional facilities are striving to create a stronger and more sustainable food system among prison populations, which totaled more than 10.35 million globally in 2016, according to the World Prison Brief.
Based on above observations, we could creatively plan to relocate our prisons outside cities. For an example, already ecologically damaged area adjacent to Wilpattu Sanctuary could be used to build an ecofriendly prison. It should be designed with qualified Landscape Architects specialized in designing ecofriendly prisons as adapted in other countries. Those projects should be a joint effort with prisoners because the prisoners themselves should also become the partners of the project while rejuvenating original forest cover after project completion. While creating the forest cover, in the case of Wipattu, we could also use our traditional Chena Cultivation approaches which are now treated in developed countries as most sustainable land use method, to produce healthy foods without damaging eco systems.
By that approach, we could also transform whole prison premises to Organic Food Production Farm, managed by the prisoners themselves. This is very common in developed countries. In my view, the prisoners serving long term jails are ideal for this effort. After their release, they would definitely duplicate their experience in their residence areas rather than repeating crimes as happening now days. They also could be entitled for any profits generated from the project which takes about 5 years for completion. Income generating from farms could be deposited into the bank accounts of prisoners in order to use it after their release.
Another potential area for this intervention is Kandakadu Prison, which was an Agriculture Farm before it was transformed to a rehabilitation camp. Being located adjacent to an area with elephant population and the Beach in Batticaloa, eco-tourism hotel might be the best option for this area. Income generation from tourism is the return on investment which could be used to duplicate same concept to similar locations. Another potential area is the Right Bank area of Maduru Oya located near an Army Camp. Animal Husbandry is ideal for this area. Another potential area is Manthieu island, Batticoloa.
Capital required to invest for this type intervention could be generated by selling the urban areas currently allocated to prisons. Sri Lanka Army could be the ideal implementation agency mainly because of possible reluctances of Prison Officers to work in remote areas such as Wilpattu.
Mahinda Panapitiya
Opinion
Resplendent isle in transit: The misery of getting from A to B
For centuries, many travellers have waxed eloquent about Sri Lanka, the “Resplendent Isle.” They spoke of lush tea estates, golden shores, and a spirit of much-admired spontaneous hospitality that defined our Pearl of the Indian Ocean. But today, the residents of this isle know a different reality; one not of postcards, but of grease, grit, and the grinding misery of a transport system, virtually in terminal collapse. To move from Point A to Point B in modern Sri Lanka is no longer a simple errand; it is a “Herculean effort” of survival against a backdrop of state incompetence, private-sector thuggery, total disregard for human decency and a government that seems to have outsourced its conscience to the highest bidder.
For the millions who call this thrice-blessed island home, the daily reality of navigating it by any form of transport has become a “major catastrophe” of Dickensian proportions. To move from Point A to Point B in 2026 is no longer a simple logistical task; it is a distasteful test of human endurance, a drain on the spirit, and a gamble with one’s own safety. The current transport status of Sri Lanka is not merely “poor”, a terminology that defies even proper definition. It is a monumental systemic failure, a toxic cocktail of state negligence, private-sector extortion, and a total collapse of regulatory oversight.
The Iron Horse in Decay: A Rail Service in Tatters
At the heart of our transit woes is the state-run surface rail service. As the only transport entity exclusively handled by the government, the railways should be the backbone of our economy. Instead, they have become a testament to nonchalant and omnipresent bureaucratic apathy. The carriages, many of which look as though they have not seen a lick of paint or a structural repair since the mid-20th century, are in a state of advanced decay.
The statistics tell a grim story. Derailments have become so frequent that they are no longer headline news but a daily footnote in the lives of commuters. These “accidents” are rarely the acts of God; they are the inevitable results of poor maintenance of tracks and rolling stock. Unacceptable delays are now the standard operating procedure. A journey that should take an hour often stretches into three, leaving students, office workers, and labourers stranded on sweltering platforms while the authorities offer nothing but silence or hollow excuses. While other nations race toward high-speed travel connectivity, our “Queen of Jaffna” and “Udarata Menike” crawl through a landscape of systemic neglect.
The symptoms are visible to any commuter: rusted carriages with leaking roofs, seat upholstery that has not seen a deep clean since the 1970s, and an electrical system prone to sparks and darkness. But the issues run deeper than aesthetics. We are witnessing a terrifying frequency of derailments, often blamed on “technical faults” that are actually the predictable results of poor track maintenance and a lack of spare parts. Accidents at unprotected crossings continue to claim lives, while “unacceptable delays” have become the only predictable feature of the timetable. For the office worker in Colombo Fort or the student in Peradeniya, the train is no longer a vessel of progress; it is a gamble with time and safety.
The Bus “Mafia” and the Ransom of the Commuter
If the rail service is a ghost of a bygone era, the fee-levying bus service is a modern-day war zone. The landscape is split between the state-run Sri Lanka Transport Board (SLTB), burdened by a very poorly maintained fleet of ageing buses and a massive and aggressive fleet of private buses, which outmatch and outperform the state-run flotilla, not by efficiency but by sheer intimidation. It is absolutely crucial to note that neither serves the public. The SLTB really operates a skeletal, poorly maintained fleet that barely scratches the surface of demand. The private buses are a law unto themselves.
At the heart of the private transport sector lies an association that critics have aptly dubbed a “Mafia.” Headed by the influential figure colloquially known as “Bus G”, this association holds the entire nation’s commuters to ransom. At the drop of a hat, they can paralyse the country with “trade union action” that are little more than unsophisticated blackmail. In a telling ransom note, whenever a policy change or a fuel hike threatens their bottom line, the buses disappear from the roads. The result? Thousands of citizens are stranded in the blistering heat, watching their productivity and dignity evaporate while the “association” negotiates with a government that appears to be absolutely terrified of their political muscle.
There is a dark irony in the politics of it all. The kingpins of this “bus mafia” openly boast that they were instrumental in bringing the current political powers into office. Consequently, the government appears not just toothless, but complicit. While the public suffers, the state turns a blind eye to overcrowding, reckless driving, and the use of nasty, addictive drugs by the staff, which turns our highways into graveyards. The powers-that-be do not have the gumption to call a spade, just that, a spade, and rein in the miscreants, using the finest employment of the laws that govern this country.
The Law of the Tuk-Tuk: A Free-for-All on Three Wheels
Descending further into the chaos, we find the omnipresent three-wheeler and taxi services. Once a convenient alternative, the “Tuk-Tuk” has become a law unto itself. In a country where the cost of living is already spiralling, these unscrupulous operators have created a “free-for-all” fare system. There is no central control over rates; instead, passengers are forced to haggle or succumb to whatever arbitrary figure the driver decides upon. For those who can afford to bypass the buses, the totally inconsiderate charges of three-wheelers and private taxis offer no sanctuary. What was once a convenient last-mile solution has devolved into a predatory racket. The tuk-tuk services have become stallions of self-importance, operating without any meaningful oversight of rates or conduct.
Commuters are met with the nonchalant refusal of short-distance hires. Drivers, seeking to “make a fast buck,” prioritise long-distance hauls where they can extort exorbitant, unmetered fares. In the absence of a standardised digital fare system enforced by the state, the passenger is always the loser. The arrogance is palpable, and respect for fellow humans has been thrown out the window. These operators behave as if they own the asphalt, often claiming that their collective vote base was the kingmaker for the current political establishment. This perceived “immunity” has bred a culture of impunity where the commuter is treated as a nuisance rather than a customer.
For the elderly trying to reach a hospital or a worker trying to get home during a rainstorm, the “refusal” has become a standard, insulting rejection. The fee-levying taxi services, though slightly more professional in appearance, operate with a similar mercenary mindset, exploiting the desperation of a public that has no other choice.
The RMV Mess, the Registration Trap and the Police Ambush
For those who have attempted to escape the public transport nightmare by purchasing their own vehicles, a different kind of trap awaits. The government has allowed the mass import of private vehicles, including two-wheelers, but the Registrar of Motor Vehicles (RMV) has become a black hole of inefficiency. Delays in vehicle registration now run into several months. Despite a surge in private vehicle imports, the bureaucracy has ground to a resounding halt. Vehicle owners face “blatant delays” in registration that extend for several months, leaving them in a bureaucratic and legal limbo.
The situation is worsened by the government’s decision to halt the private-sector issuance of number plates, centralising it into a system that is currently a “total mess.” Tens of thousands of vehicles are forced to ply the roads displaying only engine and chassis numbers, a temporary measure born of necessity. Yet for all that, and totally against even a minuscule iota of any consideration, the Police Department seems to have missed the memo and become a set of hungry predators. Officers wait in ambush, charging these owners with hefty fines for being on the road without official number plates; plates that the state itself has failed to provide. It is an avaricious cycle, where the state fails to register your car or motorcycle, and then the state’s law enforcement arm punishes you for that very failure. Rather than focusing on the blatantly reckless bus drivers or the lawless Tuk-Tuks, Police Officers wait in ensnarement to pounce on these “unregistered” vehicles. Even when owners produce documents proving the delay lies entirely with the RMV, they are charged and fined. The message is clear: the citizen must pay for the government’s failure.
The Prohibitive Cost of Mobility
Overseeing all of this is the crushing weight of fuel prices. The government continues to raise the cost of petrol and diesel with scant regard for the downstream consequences. These so-called “cost-reflective” adjustments may look good on a balance sheet in Washington or at the International Monetary Fund, but on the ground in Colombo and Kandy, they are prohibitive. Every hike in fuel prices triggers a “ripple effect” that raises the price of bread, vegetables, and, of course, the very transport that people use to get to work to pay for those goods.
Finally, a Nation at a Standstill
The transport crisis is not just a logistical problem; it is a moral one of utter social degradation. It reflects on a government that has abandoned its primary duty: to provide the infrastructure for a functioning society. We are living on a “glorious isle” where the beauty of the landscape is now obscured by the soot of a broken bus and the stress of an uncertain commute. Going from Point A to Point B has become a major travail of unbelievable misery.
Overseeing this chaos is a government that views the fuel pump as an Automated Teller Machine (ATM). The cost of all fuel types, from petrol to the diesel that powers the nation’s mobility has reached “absolutely prohibitive” levels. With scant regard for the domino effect on the cost of living, the authorities and the powers-that-be continue to raise prices, fuelling a major catastrophe of economic inflation.
For the average Sri Lankan, the “travail of unbelievable misery” is now constant. We are a nation on the move, but we are moving towards a cliff from which we are likely to fall into an abyss of no return. Until the transport sector is stripped of its political “protectors” and returned to the service of the people, this “Resplendent Isle” will remain a beautiful prison for those trying to get from Point A to Point B.
If the current administration continues to protect the infamous “mafias”, ignore the decay of the rails, and profit from the administrative chaos of the RMV, and totally fail to get their act together, they are not failing just the transport sector; they are in fact failing the very heart of the nation for sure. Our Motherland, Sri Lanka, deserves a whole lot better than a state of an ever-present and unending transit catastrophe. All the rhetoric about a rich country and a beautiful life that was promulgated in the not-too-distant past remains only as unbelievable wishful thinking.
By an Aficionado
Opinion
Why do many Sri Lankan students become school dropouts?
Education is widely recognised as the foundation of a country’s development. In Sri Lanka, free education has provided generations of children with the opportunity to attend school regardless of their economic background. Despite these advantages, many students still leave school before completing their education. School dropout is a significant social issue because it affects not only the lives of young people but also the country’s economic and social progress. Understanding the reasons behind school dropout is essential for finding effective solutions.
One of the main reasons students leave school is financial hardship. Although education in Sri Lanka is free, families still have to spend money on uniforms, stationery, transportation, private tuition, and other school-related expenses. For low-income families, these costs can be difficult to manage. Some students are forced to work to support their families instead of continuing their education. In rural areas especially, children may help with farming, fishing, or family businesses, reducing the time and motivation they have for school.
Another important factor is academic pressure. Sri Lanka’s education system is highly competitive, especially because of major examinations such as the Grade Five Scholarship Examination, the G.C.E. Ordinary Level, and the G.C.E. Advanced Level. Many students feel stressed by the heavy workload and the pressure to achieve high marks. Those who struggle academically may lose confidence and believe they have little chance of success. As a result, some choose to leave school rather than continue facing disappointment and failure.
Family problems also contribute significantly to school dropout rates. Children who experience divorce, domestic violence, alcoholism, or the loss of a parent often face emotional and financial difficulties. Some students become responsible for caring for younger siblings or elderly family members. Without proper support, balancing family responsibilities with education becomes extremely challenging. In such situations, education may become a lower priority.
Another reason is the lack of interest in traditional classroom learning. Every student has different talents and learning styles. However, the education system often focuses mainly on academic achievement rather than practical or vocational skills. Students who are gifted in sports, arts, technology, or technical work may not feel motivated in a classroom that emphasises examinations and textbook learning. Without opportunities to develop their unique abilities, some students become bored and eventually stop attending school.
Bullying and mental health issues are also important causes of school dropout. Some students experience bullying because of their appearance, disability, ethnicity, language, or family background. Others suffer from anxiety, depression, or low self-esteem but do not receive the counseling they need. When students feel unsafe or unwelcome at school, they may begin missing classes and eventually leave school altogether. Schools that lack proper counseling services may struggle to identify and support these vulnerable students.
In some parts of Sri Lanka, long travel distances and transportation difficulties discourage students from attending school regularly. Rural students often travel several kilometers every day, sometimes on foot or using unreliable public transport. During the rainy season, flooded roads and poor infrastructure make travel even more difficult. Frequent absenteeism caused by transportation challenges may eventually lead students to drop out.
For some girls, early marriage and teenage pregnancy become barriers to continuing education. Although these cases are less common than in some other countries, they still affect certain communities. Young mothers often find it difficult to balance childcare with school responsibilities. Social stigma and limited support can further reduce their chances of returning to education.
The COVID-19 pandemic also increased the number of students at risk of dropping out. During school closures, many families lacked internet access, smartphones, computers, or stable electricity for online learning. Students from disadvantaged backgrounds fell behind in their studies, and some never returned to school after classes resumed. The pandemic highlighted inequalities in access to education across the country.
The consequences of school dropout are serious. Students who leave school early often have fewer employment opportunities and may earn lower incomes throughout their lives. They are more likely to experience poverty, unemployment, and social exclusion. School dropout can also contribute to higher crime rates, child labor, and poor health outcomes. For the country, losing educated young people means a less skilled workforce and slower national development.
Several solutions can help reduce school dropout rates in Sri Lanka. The government can strengthen financial assistance for low-income families through scholarships, school meal programmes, and transportation support. Schools should provide counseling services to address mental health concerns and prevent bullying. Teachers can receive training to identify students who are at risk of dropping out and provide timely support. Expanding vocational education and technical training would also give students more opportunities to pursue careers that match their interests and abilities. Finally, parents, schools, communities, and government agencies should work together to encourage regular school attendance and create a supportive learning environment.
In conclusion, school dropout is a complex issue caused by economic difficulties, academic pressure, family problems, mental health challenges, transportation issues, and limited educational opportunities. Although Sri Lanka has made remarkable progress in providing free education, ensuring that every child completes their schooling requires continued effort from all sectors of society. By addressing the root causes of school dropout and supporting vulnerable students, Sri Lanka can build a more educated, skilled, and prosperous future for the next generation.
Saumya Aloysius
saumyaaloysius@gmail.com
-
News6 days agoSingapore-based Buddhist monk marks nearly four decades of humanitarian service
-
News7 days agoFreedom 250: US Embassy celebrates America’s 250th Independence Day through magic of American cinema
-
News24 hours agoHerath warns prospective migrant workers not to get fleeced by racketeers
-
News5 days agoAI concerned over proposed SL military deployment in Haiti
-
Midweek Review3 days agoUnexpected focus on ‘pieces of tin’ worn by military men
-
Latest News4 days agoNyamhuri and Ngarava stun Bangladesh by defending 141
-
Features6 days agoThe NPP’s New Challenge: Balancing Easter Lawfare and Economic Welfare
-
News2 days agoNegombo Prison riot: Ensuring protection of prisoners fundamental responsibility of the state – UN
