Features
Are we educating our children in right way?
Need for rethink on Sri Lankan education
By Professor W. A. J. M. De Costa
Senior Professor and Chair of Crop Science, Faculty of Agriculture, University of Peradeniya
A few months ago, a former student of mine doing a PhD in Computational Biology in a top-ranked US university, while holding a teaching assistantship in the same university, called me. She was quite upset that the undergraduate students in her laboratory practical class had openly confronted her and told that her weekly quizzes were too difficult. On inquiring what was too difficult, they had said that her questions were not directly from their lecture notes or practical guidebook and that the students could not anticipate the type of questions that were coming. I knew that my former student spends a lot of time and effort in formulating questions for her weekly quizzes, making sure that her questions stimulate the thinking of students when searching for the answer and force them to apply the theory that they had learned in the lecture to solve a practical problem. However, the reaction of the students (she did not tell me whether the students who protested openly were a majority or not) clearly showed that they did not like being taken out of their comfort zone. While I was surprised that this incident happened in a top-ranked US university, it wouldn’t have surprised me in the least if it had happened in a Sri Lanka university. This would have been a common occurrence in Sri Lankan universities, if not for the semblance of outward respect (and a considerable measure of the fear of reprisal) for lecturers that is still maintained in Sri Lankan universities, thanks to the eastern culture. Nevertheless, it is an incident that begs the question whether the learning habits, that are nurtured by the system of education in Sri Lanka from childhood onwards, are in fact the right ones, both for the individual and for the country as a whole. Based on my experience of teaching in a leading Sri Lankan university for over thirty years, following a period of four years as an undergraduate in the same university, the answer to the above question is an emphatic ‘No’. What saddens and disappoints me is the observation that the learning habits of the students as well as the teaching habits of the lecturers have ‘moved in the wrong direction’ so that the future does not look promising in terms of producing a graduate who fulfils the needs of the country which spends so much on the so-called ‘free education’. In this article, I wish to highlight some of the fundamental flaws in the way Sri Lanka educates its young generation.
A system of education and a population of students driven by examinations and rote learning
Sri Lankan education is a succession of examinations, starting with the Grade Five scholarship exam, followed by the GCE O/L and the GCE A/L, and continuing in the universities. All these examinations are structured in a pattern that has been set for well over several decades, with very little change. They are also based on curricula which are very heavy on subject content. The extremely competitive nature of these examinations, especially, the Grade Five scholarship exam, which offers the possibility of entrance to the so-called ‘elite’ schools, and the GCE A/L, which offers admission to an extremely limited number of university places, forces students into a set of learning habits which are detrimental to the development of their creative capabilities and critical thinking. The private tuition culture which started in the late 1970s has developed into a very elaborate network, which caters exactly to the needs of the examinations. The teaching is meticulously focused on developing the students’ capabilities to do well in the competitive examinations. This teaching is accompanied by preparing the students for examinations by getting them to practice answering questions from examinations of previous years. This is widely prevalent even in the Physical Science stream, which consists of subjects such as Mathematics and Physics, where logical reasoning rather than memorising is the skill that needs to be developed. Instead, ‘practice makes perfect’ has been the rationale, with the perception that a student who has done a greater number of similar questions has a greater probability of doing well in an examination, where questions are set according to a pattern that has been set and continued for over several decades. I was surprised to learn about 10 years ago that in the GCE(A/L), this practice of answering questions from previous years has moved on to memorising model answers written by a tuition teacher. This culture of rote learning has advanced to such an extent that ‘tuition classes’ are held for prospective entrants to the medical and engineering faculties on the subjects that they will learn during their first year in the university.
For the students who come through this dizzying maze of tuition classes, revision classes and practice examinations, and get into the university (only about 2% of the population in any age cohort), a set of learning habits that strengthens their habit of rote learning awaits in the university system. They are given access to the lecture notes of senior students and a group of supposedly competent senior students conduct what are called ‘Kuppi Classes’, which is a system ‘tuition classes’ aimed at filling the brain with subject content prior to the examinations (hence the meaning ‘filling the small bottle’ which is the brain). During a visit to a leading university in the Western Province which coincided with an examination period, I came across a ‘Kuppi Time Table’ for students in the Faculty of Science in the students’ canteen, which demonstrated the extent to which this culture of rote learning aimed at passing examinations was prevalent among the university student community. In science-based degree programmes with significant components of laboratory and field practical classes, it is common practice for a large majority of students to copy the lab report of a few supposedly competent students in the batch. This whole culture is strengthened and perpetuated by the institutionalised practice of ‘ragging’, strongly supported by the Students’ Unions, where students who do not subject themselves to ragging are denied access to the ‘Kuppi classes’ and the lecture notes of their seniors. The end product of all this is a graduate who expects a previously set pattern to bench mark his preparations to every single challenge that he/she faces in his/her profession. Preparation based on the practice of solving/meeting a similar problem/challenge that had occurred in the past is often the only strategy that these graduates know about. Hence, it is no wonder that they become almost clueless when the problems/challenges that come their way in their profession deviate even slightly from those that had come previously. This also explains the widespread incompetence in problem-solving among the government officials, at all levels of administration. While the politicians are rightly blamed for the current plight of Sri Lanka and its long-term post-independence failure, the system of education that has produced a set of mediocre and sub-competent officials, technical experts and bureaucrats should share the blame in equal measure.
The role of educators
A system that produces a majority of ineffective/sub-standard graduates, devoid of key competences, cannot have survived for so long if it has not been strengthened, wittingly or unwittingly, by its other stakeholders. In this regard, the educators, consisting of the curriculum experts in the relevant governmental institutions such as the National Institute of Education, and academics in the university faculties have failed in designing and implementing a system of education, curricula and examinations which are much less dependent on rote learning practices for success. Curricula have been progressively expanded with more and more information reflecting advances in the respective subject areas and disciplines. However, there has not been a proportional removal of outdated information so that the subject content that the students have to study has continued to expand in volume. Such an expansion reduces the space for students to engage in learning by exploration via reading and discussion, thus forcing them towards repeated reading and memorising of a set of lecture notes. The examinations have been made highly structured, which takes the novelty out of the questions. What makes the matters worse are the evaluation schemes where only answers containing specific words or sentences are considered ‘correct’ while answers containing the same meaning but written in different words and sentences are considered ‘incorrect’.
This practice is especially prevalent in the evaluation schemes of the GCE A/L examination. Such highly structured and repetitive examination papers and marking schemes inevitably condition the students’ minds to anticipate a certain structure and type of questions and write a certain type of answer, which has been memorised and/or practiced in advance. While such psychological conditioning helps the students to do well in examinations, it also leaves them clueless when confronted with an examination paper or a question, which deviates even slightly from the pattern of the previous years. Therefore, it is no wonder that the majority of students who graduate through such a system of evaluation are incapable of problem-solving and ‘out of the box’ thinking when confronted with real-life problems in their professional work environments. Such work environments include the very institutions which provide education where generations of teachers and lecturers who have come through this system perpetuate the same system.
During the 1990s, almost all universities and faculties in Sri Lanka converted their curricula to the so-called ‘course unit’ system. The whole subjects, which had hitherto been taught over the course of one academic year and evaluated in year-end examinations, were broken in to several smaller ‘course units’, which were evaluated at a higher frequency (the so-called continuous evaluation) via a series of quizzes, written assignments and mid-term and end-term examinations. This system of teaching and learning is practiced in an overwhelming majority of universities globally and the merits of continuous evaluation appear to be advocated by an equally overwhelming majority of education experts. However, as a product of the old ‘whole subject-one examination’ system, I have observed, over the course of the last three decades, several flaws in directly transplanting the ‘course unit’ system (which at that time was predominantly prevalent in the US and Canadian Universities, but not in the European Universities) in Sri Lanka on a student population who are psychologically conditioned in to rote learning within an examination-oriented system of education. The biggest flaw is the fragmentation of the process of learning and the subsequent knowledge gained and retained by the students. When one whole subject is broken down to several smaller units which are evaluated separately, the students’ learning is focused on getting through the smaller units. In this process, understanding the connections between different smaller units and building inter-relationships between different aspects of a whole subject, which is an integral aspect of deeper learning, is neglected. It has been a common experience for us teachers to find that students have forgotten most of what they had learned previously in the course units which had been completed and examined. It is a direct result of the ‘Kuppi’ type of learning where the ‘small bottle’ which is filled just before the examination is emptied as soon as the examination is over!
Introduction of the course unit system to Sri Lankan universities caused a change in student behaviour which, arguably, has had far-reaching consequences. The increased frequency of assessments and examinations on an already examination-oriented student population directed them even more towards preparing for examinations (often via rote learning methods and ‘Kuppi’ classes) at the expense of spending time on sports and extra-curricular activities, which are essential components of the holistic development of a ‘complete’ graduate and a human being. The weaning of students away from sports and extra-curricular activities from the 1990s onwards was clearly evident in a large residential university such as the University of Peradeniya, which offers a wide range of facilities and opportunities for sports and extra-curricular activities. There is no doubt that the introduction of the ‘course-unit’ system of curricula was the major cause of this shift in student behaviour. During my time as an undergraduate in Peradeniya in the early- to mid-1980s, I remember many of my own batchmates, who had not previously engaged in sports and extra-curricular activities during their school days, getting involved and participating in games and activities and thoroughly enjoying the experience despite not being in the official university teams.
Concluding remarks
The underlying structural flaws in the Sri Lankan system of education, teaching and learning is often hidden by the argument that many (but only a tiny fraction of the whole) Sri Lankans who have come through this system have gone on to reach top rungs in their chosen professions in the developed west. However, the true test of an education system of a country is that it should produce a human resource base equipped with competencies (and values) which are required to address the multi-pronged challenges that the country faces in trying to bring about its national development and prosperity. The trajectory that Sri Lanka has travelled as a nation during its 75-year post-independence period and the patently evident current trend of brain drain brings into stark question whether its ‘free-education’ has achieved its intended objectives. It is clear that a comprehensive re-think and a careful overhaul of the current Sri Lankan education system, including its core principles, values and modes of operation, is essential for the country to realize the full potential of its human resource base for the benefit of its own development and prosperity.
The writer has been a university teacher and a researcher for more than thirty five years and has received special training in university staff development, including teaching and learning methodology, at the University of Kassel, Germany.
Features
Combining local resources,traditional knowledge and science to build a food-secure Sri Lanka
World Food Day 2026: Innovating today for a better food future
by Dr. Kaushalya Wijayasekara
What will be on the Sri Lankan dinner table ten years from now? Will our children be able to get nutritious food at a price their families can afford? Will farmers be able to grow enough despite changing weather and rising costs? And how much of the food we produce will actually reach the consumer, instead of being lost or wasted along the way?
These questions can’t wait. A farmer faces unpredictable weather. A family faces rising food costs. Fruit goes unsold after a good harvest. Some children do not get enough nutrition. The future of food is tied to the future of Sri Lanka itself.
World Food Day 2026 is a chance to look beyond the immediate problems and ask whether we can build a food system that feeds our people well, gives farmers better opportunities, protects the environment and makes better use of what we already have. The answer can be yes, but we will have to think differently.
We are not starting from zero. Sri Lanka has diverse crops, fisheries, traditional food knowledge, indigenous varieties, research institutions, universities and a young generation able to create new solutions. What we need is to bring these together and act. Producing more will not secure our food future on its own. It will depend on how intelligently we produce, process, preserve, distribute and consume food.
Making more of what we already have
Innovation does not always mean inventing something new. Often it means finding better uses for the resources we have.
Sri Lanka grows traditional rice varieties, kurakkan, green gram, cowpea, jackfruit, breadfruit, cassava, sweet potato, coconut and palmyrah. All of them have great potential for modern, nutritious, value-added foods. Jackfruit and breadfruit can be made into flour and other convenient products. Traditional rice varieties can go into new foods that suit changing consumer needs. Palmyrah, with its strong cultural heritage, can create new income through better processing, packaging, quality assurance and market development.
The aim is to connect our traditional food knowledge with modern consumer needs and technology, while keeping our food heritage.
Stop wasting the food we produce
Reducing food loss and waste should be a major priority. Seasonal fruits such as mango, banana, papaya and pineapple can be lost in large quantities when production exceeds demand or when storage, transport and processing facilities are inadequate. With suitable technology, these fruits can become dried products, pulps, powders, beverages and other shelf-stable foods.
Agricultural and fisheries by-products are resources too. They could be turned into food ingredients, animal feed, bio-based products and other useful materials, which would move us toward a more circular food economy.
Technology alone is not enough. We need stronger local processing facilities, cold storage, efficient transport, collection centres and market information systems, especially close to where food is produced. Cutting food loss raises the value of what our farmers and fishers already produce.
Nutrition and food safety come first
Food security means more than having enough food. People also need food that is safe and nutritious.
Sri Lanka can develop affordable, nutritious foods from local pulses, grains, vegetables, fruits and fish. Children and other vulnerable groups should get particular attention. Schoolchildren in particular deserve a focus: safe, nutritious, locally sourced products for school feeding programs would support child nutrition, local farmers and domestic food industries at the same time.
Food safety must stay at the centre of food innovation. Good hygiene, quality control, laboratory testing, traceability and appropriate food safety systems are what make new products safe as well as attractive and nutritious.
A food system that can cope with climate change
Climate change is already affecting agricultural production, water availability, crop yields and food prices. We need food systems that can handle changing conditions. That means climate-resilient crops, efficient water use, soil and water conservation, better storage and resource-efficient food processing.
Traditional knowledge matters here. Generations of Sri Lankan farmers have developed practices suited to local climates and ecosystems. Combining that experience with modern science can give us solutions that fit local conditions and are sustainable. Technology alone will not build the future of food. Science, experience and local knowledge together can.
Give young people a bigger role
Sri Lanka’s universities have an important part to play in shaping our food future. Young people should be encouraged to identify real problems in the food system and work on practical solutions in areas such as food waste, sustainable packaging, nutrition, food safety, modernising traditional foods and digital technologies.
A good research project should not always end as a research paper. Where appropriate, research should be supported to move on to products, technologies, enterprises and community solutions. That needs stronger partnerships between universities and industry, along with mentoring, research funding, business support and market connections. If young researchers and entrepreneurs can turn their ideas into viable food innovations, both consumers and producers will benefit.
A pathway designed for Sri Lanka
We do not need to copy food-system models from other countries. We can build a pathway that suits our own resources, culture and needs. It would bring together local resources, traditional knowledge, scientific research, appropriate technology and entrepreneurship, with farmers, fishers, universities, research institutions, food industries, entrepreneurs and policymakers working side by side.
The goal goes beyond selling raw materials. We need to create more value, reduce waste, improve nutrition, generate jobs and strengthen rural livelihoods. This matters especially for small and medium-scale food enterprises, which can drive local economic development when they get the right technical, financial and market support.
The choices we make today
The food future will not create itself. It will be shaped by what we grow, what we research, what we process, what we consume and what we choose not to waste.
So, the question for World Food Day 2026 is this: what can we do today so that every Sri Lankan has safe, nutritious, affordable and sustainable food tomorrow?
The answers are already around us, in our farms, fisheries, food businesses, universities, laboratories and communities. We have the resources, the traditional knowledge, the scientific expertise and talented young people. What we need now is to connect them and act.
A better food future begins with the choices we make today.
Dr. Kaushalya Wijayasekara
Senior Lecturer, Department of Biosystems Technology, Faculty of Technology, University of Ruhuna
Features
20th Anniversary of Digampathana blast – the day Sri Lanka Navy cried
By Admiral Ravindra C Wijegunaratne
WV, RWP and Bar, RSP, VSV, USP, NI (M) (Pakistan), ndc, psn, Bsc
(Hons) (War Studies) (Karachi) MPhil (Madras)
Former Navy Commander and Former Chief of Defence Staff
Former Chairman, Trincomalee Petroleum Terminals Ltd
Former Managing Director Ceylon Petroleum Corporation
Former High Commissioner to Pakistan
The Digampathana suicide truck attack on 16th October 2006 remains the deadliest single strike in Sri Lanka Navy history, leaving scars that time cannot erase.
It was a seemingly ordinary Monday morning on 16 October 2006, but the calm of that day would soon be shattered in a way none of us could have imagined. As the Commandant of the Naval and Maritime Academy and Flag Officer Commanding Naval Fleet at Trincomalee, I was aware that a number of my cadets were travelling that morning, part of a convoy of fifteen buses carrying naval personnel from Trincomalee, Colombo, and other bases, heading toward Dambulla to rendezvous with another group. The convoy also included trucks and escort vehicles, a routine movement planned and coordinated with the army to ensure the roads were clear. The morning started quietly. Some personnel greeted friends, handed over their weapons, or strolled to a nearby tea shop. It all seemed so ordinary—too ordinary for what would come next.

Sri Lanka Navy sunk LTTE Ships carrying arms, ammunition and warlike materials thousand miles away from Sri Lanka in Indian Ocean in September and October 2007.
By late morning, both convoys had reached the small ground at Digampathana, near the Sigiriya junction, and personnel mingled briefly, unaware that a carefully orchestrated act of terror was waiting. Then, suddenly, an empty half-truck veered directly into the convoy. It exploded with a ferocity I can still recall as if it were yesterday. Nuts, bolts, and high explosives tore through the air. Pandemonium erupted instantly. I later learned that 107 of our naval personnel were killed on the spot and another 153 critically injured. The scene was indescribable—bodies scattered, vehicles mangled, personal effects strewn across the ground. I remember later hearing that the head of the suicide bomber was recovered more than 100 meters away from the blast, a grim testament to the sheer force of the explosion.
I was in my office at the Naval and Maritime Academy when my mobile phone rang. A young midshipman from the 21st intake called, his voice trembling: “Sir, there was a huge explosion at the convoy point! Many are dead … my batch mate Wijesundara is among them.” I immediately jumped into my jeep with my escort Chief Petty Officer and driver and rushed to Digampathana, relying on every ounce of my driving skill to reach the scene. The journey, which usually took little more than an hour, felt endless that day, each passing mile weighed down by dread.
When I arrived, I was confronted with a sight that no training can prepare you for. The injured were being rushed to Dambulla Hospital, where doctors and nurses worked tirelessly, improvising in ways that saved lives despite the overwhelming chaos. I went back to the site after visiting the hospital. The remains of our naval personnel were scattered across the ground, and someone had begun collecting weapons and protective gear. I immediately contacted Surgeon Rear Admiral Nico Jayasekara and received his instructions: collect all body parts in separate bags and transport them to the Trincomalee Naval Hospital mortuary. This gruesome work had to be done with care and dignity, and it filled the icebox in my vehicle. Through DNA testing initiated by Rear Admiral Nico, we were able to identify every naval personnel lost that day, bringing some closure to grieving families.
The Navy Commander at the time, Vice Admiral Wasantha Karannagoda, was devastated. I had worked closely with him and knew how deeply he cared for his men. He ensured that the fallen were honoured with full ceremonial naval funerals at Welisara Naval Base, attended by families and comrades. Sixty-seven funerals were conducted in a single day—a number that still haunts me.
The Digampathana attack remains the largest single loss of naval life in our history. It was a day of sorrow, but also a day that reinforced our resolve. The tragedy galvanized the Navy to target the LTTE Sea Tiger wing with renewed determination and reshaped our maritime operations forever. Every time I think of that day, I remember not just the lives lost, but the courage, professionalism, and dedication of those who survived, those who treated the injured, and those who ensured the fallen were honored properly. May the souls of our naval hero’s rest in peace, their sacrifice guiding us and inspiring generations of naval personnel to come.
Features
‘Murder at Whitby Abbey’
Tales of Mystery and Suspense – 24
I was intrigued by the title of a book I found in a book drop at the condominium of a friend, Murder at Whitby Abbey, and I brought it home with me though I will not be able to return it in the near future. It was described on the cover page as ‘a standout in the crowded medieval mystery field’, though I fear I do not know of other books in this field, apart from the Cadfael series, which I have dealt with earlier.
The book, by Cassandra Clark, is set during the reign of Richard II and has as a backdrop his precarious position, which led to his being replaced, and murdered, by his cousin Henry, who reigned as Henry IV. It is a gloomy book, the action taking place in the twelve days of Christmas leading up to the Epiphany. And the gloom is pervasive, even though this is supposed to be a time of festivity, with mummers performing, and many of those in the guest house where the heroine stays going to town to enjoy themselves, with much drinking and much music, which also fills the guesthouse.
The heroine Hildegarde is a nun, sent to try to acquire a relic being sold by Whitby Abbey, though this was also a penance set by the Abbot of the monastery that governed her abbess because she had had sex with a man. Soon after she and her companions reach the Abbey set high on a cliff, she finds that there are other bidders, and soon suspects that the hierarchy, not perhaps the Abbot who seems a weakling, but his rapacious bursar, is determined to make money, and not above creating false relics to sell to several aspirants.
After Hildegarde and her Cistercian companions – Whitby is a Benedictine Foundation – two monks, Gregory and Egbert, and a young priest Mark, reach the abbey, they find that Aelwyn, a monk they had met on their way to the guesthouse had died. This was in the apple store, and they realize, when they find the surplices of novices stuffed into the air vents, that he had been left to suffocate in the overwhelming scent of apples.
The Cistercians are asked to look into the death, perhaps because they are likely to get no cooperation from the Abbey folk, but perhaps because those in charge are keen to know what happened. And the infirmarer, an old monk, suggests Hildegarde talk to a man called Edred who worked for the bursar, and had been a friend of Aelwyn’s. But Edred too is killed, before he can keep an appointment he had made with Hildegarde, drowned in a pool near the farmhouse of the Abbey.
Meanwhile tensions arise between the fisherfolk and the abbey for the bursar wants to charge them for using the beach that technically belongs to the abbey to dry their fish and their nets. This leads to physical battles, when the guards used by the abbey, under the command it seems of the bursar whose determination to make money is not resisted by the abbot and the prior, try to storm the area where the fishermen live.
Hildegard finds out more about what had happened through two youngsters, one of whom Torold is the son of Aelwyn by a woman who worked as a prostitute for a cartel, and with whom Mark fell in love. The other works on the farm and had seen Edred meet someone near the pool, after which that someone left the place by himself. And the boy had also found in the pool a sort of dagger with the seal of the abbey.
He and his dog, and Torold who follows her, rescue Hildegarde from a man at arms who has waylaid her and tries to rape her earlier. Escaping into the abbey she was nearly been raped then by the bursar, but she managed to escape, in the process setting fire to him and the muniments room, which led, when he was rescued, to the discovery of a box with the money he said had been stolen, blame being cast on both Aelwyn and Edred.
Matters come to a head when the fisherfolk try to storm the abbey, being resisted by the men at arms stationed on the towers. But then Hildegarde realizes that behind the murders was the bursar’s clerk, whom she pursued to the cathedral. There is great drama then as she escapes from him when he tries to kill her, and then from the man at arms who had tried to both rape and kill her, but they both fall from the scaffolding she had climbed, the latter coming from a tower where he had been stationed.
Both of them think they run the rapacity of the abbey, the latter claiming to work for the nobles opposed to Richard, who is presented throughout the book as devoted to his subjects, not to power or money. But though the villains die, the bursar continues, having got over the hysteria the fire had caused and his acknowledgment then of guilt – and though the abbot and the prior seem less vicious, whether they will be able to assert themselves is questionable.
Before the climax, when the others in the guesthouse were leaving, Hildegarde found that two of them were in possession of the relic, for which they seem to have paid well. Hildegarde herself had made a derisory offer, but before she leaves the abbot gives her the relic, perhaps in gratitude for what she and her fellow Cistercians had discovered, the abbey having made as much money as it needed and more from the gullible other buyers.
Mark’s inamorata is saved from the stews because she moves in with Edred’s widow whom the bursar had thrown out of the rooms he occupied when her husband was found dead. Hildegarde had paid for lodgings, in a house run by the man who ran the brothels, but he had a kindly side and was going to finance them to make nets for the fishermen.
So, the Cistercians set off for their home as swiftly as they can to get there on the day of the Epiphany, having stopped en route to pray for King Richard whose birthday it was.
-
News7 days agoSri Lanka escalates anti-graft drive with Shiranthi’s jailing
-
News7 days agoIranian ships stranded, Lanka fears US sanctions
-
Latest News6 days agoFarhan and Sadaqat help Pakistan seal series in style
-
Latest News4 days agoNissanka’s return headlines Sri Lanka’s Test squad against Pakistan
-
Features6 days agoIntake 16: 45 years of duty and honour
-
News6 days agoMalwathu Chapter issues statement on talks with President over Gnanasara Thera’s robes
-
News7 days agoNavi Pillay’s Lankan affairs in focus as she wins 2026 Nobel Peace Prize
-
News6 days agoCP alleges NPP has taken the blame for illegal US sanctions on Iranian vessels

