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Brilliant Bougainvillea

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Short story

by Ruki Attygalle

The hospital matron glanced up from her desk and for a moment compassion clouded her eyes, as she looked at the small, frail woman standing before her desk, shakily holding out a typed sheet of paper.

“Ah…. you got our letter came on the 5.30 bus from Matara this morning. Matron Nona. I … I… can’t understand My son — Ranjit — has been transferred to the psychiatric ward?” Tears welled in Somawathie’s eyes.

The matron’s sigh was hardly noticeable. There were so many cases. Her training forbade emotional reaction.

She said gently, “His head wound is healing nicely. But you see, there are other problems.

“He was so much better the last time I saw him, about two weeks ago! The nurse also said so… .” Somawathie wiped her eyes with her sari pota and pushed back a strand of grey hair that had loosened itself from the small tight knot at the back of her head.

“Did he speak to you then? Has he said anything to you on any of your visits?”

“Yes … no … nothing much, because so much pain, no? His head all bandaged.” She blew her nose into a handkerchief which she took out from inside her hatte.

“Amme, I understand, but try and tell us. His bandages were off when you saw him, two weeks ago.”

“Yes, with the blessings of the gods! He was looking fine then That is why I thought he would be discharged soon.”

The matron sighed. It was always the same. Contradictions muddled thoughts, in times of stress. Gently she said, “This Amme. can you repeat to us even a word or two he said? You see, he refuses to talk to us.”

The overhead fan creaked, shifting humid air from one side’ of the room to the other. The work-worn hands of the mother twisted together nervously. Her eyebrows knit, deepening the already existing lines on her forehead as she tried to remember.’

“He – he was a quiet boy, never much of a talker. Kept to himself. Didn’t even join the village boys. They called him the upasakaya. We just could not believe it, when he said that he had joined the army.”

The matron interrupted. “Did your son say anything to you about how he got his injuries? Or anything at all?”

Somawathie’s bleary eyes took on a distant look as she tried to think back, to recollect. She remembered her fear for her son’s life when she was first told that he had been brought to the army hospital, with injuries to his head. She remembered seeing him lying on his side on the iron bed, with bandaged head and motionless body. She had stroked his arm gently, and bending over, asked him whether he could hear her. But he did not respond. Then a nurse led her away saying, “He is still in shock, and it’s best to let him rest now.”

The next time she visited him, a week later, he was seated in bed leaning against the bedhead with his eyes closed, his head still firmly bandaged. At first, she had thought he was in deep meditation, but then she saw his lips moving silently and presumed he was praying. She had waited in silence for a long time before she spoke.

“I have come to see you, Putha. Are you feeling better now?” Perhaps he hadn’t finished his prayers because he did not answer. She gave him more time, before she spoke again.

“Ranjit, look at me, Putha, I have come all the way from Matara to see you. Please speak to me.” Still silence. Yet she had continued trying to engage him in conversation.

“Tell me Putha, what happened to you? I was so relieved when they said that you had no gunshot injuries. How did it happen? Was it a bomb blast? We never get to hear what really happens to our children! Putha, please tell me what happened,” she pleaded.

Then he suddenly spoke, “I don’t know. I can’t remember,” but remained motionless with his eyes closed.

Somawathie continued talking to him although he had withdrawn once more into his lonely silence. She had told him about the bodhi poojas she was carrying out to bring about his full recovery; how the priest asked after him every time she went to the temple; that pirith was being chanted for him every day.

She touched his hand, but he remained unresponsive. Perhaps he was tired, she’d thought, and needed to rest. As she bent to touch his shoulder and bid him goodbye, she heard him whisper to himself, panati-pata veramanisikka padam samadiyami mouthing the precept to abstain from killing. He is observing his five precepts she had thought, but then, he seemed to be repeating the first precept over and over again, as though he had forgotten the rest.

The next time she saw him he was walking towards his bed returning from the toilet. His head had been shaven. The bandage had been removed and the back of his head was covered with dressing held together with bands of sticking plaster. He looked so different, but better, and she was pleased.

He had walked past her and sat on the bed. Obviously, he had seen her, she’d thought, so she walked up to him and laughing said, “So, now you only need a yellow robe and you can join the Sangha!”

He had turned his face away from her. Perhaps she had said the wrong thing, even though she had meant it to be light banter. She was happy to see him better, much better, and wanted him to feel good too.

She winced, as her mind raced back to the time when Ranji went missing for several hours after a row with his father. She had eventually found him seated under a coconut tree by the kamatha, his face swollen with crying. Eyes broody, unhappy.

“Where were you this morning?” his father had demand angrily.

“I was helping out at Sunday School, Thatha.”

“So, helping at Sunday School is more important than helping your father in the field? The field that brings you the rice that fills your belly? Do you call yourself a male?” he sneered.

“You are worse than a woman. Your sisters have more energy in them than you have. They are a credit to this household, unlike you. See how they work. All you can do is to get to a side and read books or creep to the temple! You may as well shave your head and go live in the temple!”

The derision in the father’s voice had hung heavy in the room like dark monsoon clouds. With head hung low, a sinking heart, trying to hold back tears of humiliation that stung his eyes, Ranjit cringed out of the house. His relationship with his father had never been an easy one. He had always known that he failed to measure up to his father’s expectations. Sitting under the tree brooding, he felt as though an old wound he had tried to keep at bay, to ignore, had started bleeding. His sense of inadequacy and alienation ran deep. I’ll show him that I am not the weakling he thinks I am. I will join the army.

Putha,” said Somawathie, gingerly placing the comb of pIantains she’d brought for him on the bedside table. “Aren’t you going to look at the plantains I brought you? They are just how you like them – not overripe.” He took no notice.

“Ranjit, are you angry with me? I was only joking, Putha, about you looking like a Buddhist monk.” But he remained silent, his eyes fixed on the blank wall.

“Your sisters are worried about you. In fact, Prema wanted to come with me today, but I didn’t think she should be travelling such a long distance in her condition. The baby is due end of the month.” He didn’t seem to be listening.

“Why don’t you talk to me, Putha? Have I annoyed you?” “No,” he snapped, suddenly, harshly.

“Then why don’t you talk to me? I have come all the way from Matara and you won’t even look at me!”

“Amma! I need to think. I need time to remember. I have to sort things out,” he almost shouted at her, not hiding his annoyance. “What things Putha?”

He did not answer; but lay down on the bed and shut his eyes and shut her out.

The Matron’s voice brought her back to the present. “Try to remember his words,” she was saying.

“I think he didn’t like it when I joked with him and said he looked like a monk, with his shaven head.”

The Matron sighed. She had seen too many cases like this where there was no easy answer. But Ranjit had been an exceptionally docile patient, doing what he was told to do, never complaining. But this silence from a man, so young … something was wrong … radically wrong. Strange, that the window beside his bed was always kept closed with the curtains drawn. No sooner the nurse opened it, he’d get out of bed and shut it. How could he be helped if he wouldn’t even talk to the doctors?

The mother gingerly touched the Matron’s hand in a gesture of pleading. “What happened to my boy, Matron? How did he get hurt? We are never told.”

A division of the Sri Lanka Army, with Ranjit among 40 soldiers led by a Captain, were detailed to search a village in Vavuniya believed to be harbouring Tigers – cadres of the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam. Shooting had broken out, and hand grenades thrown at the soldiers.

“We lost 14 soldiers,” the matron said quietly. “Several were very badly wounded. Your son was lucky to have escaped with only a head injury. What is so strange is, that he seems to have been hit with a blunt instrument. He won’t tell us what happened.”

“That is because he does not know. He said he couldn’t member what happened.”

“Did he actually say so?” The matron queried eagerly.

“Yes,” said the mother, “He said he needed time to think. He said he needed time to remember.” His words rang strong in her mind now.

Time. Yes. Remembering what?

Ranjit walked slowly to the window. Although he tried not to look as he reached out to shut the window, he couldn’t help but notice from the corner of his eye the bougainvillea he now hated much. The creeper had hooked its treacherous thorns on to the trunk and branches of a mango tree, crept up stealthily and then burst into bloom. It was the colour he couldn’t stand.

It ‘wasn’t the common purple-red, nor an orange-red, rather, it was a deep, deep, red, the colour of blood. The colour that seeped through his eyes, and into his brain. It flooded inside and created a pressure in his head that was unbearable. It was worse than the pain of his wound. Why did they insist on opening the window!

He gently touched the dressing at the back of his head as he ,tried to remember for the umpteenth time what happened on that fateful day. The more he tried, the more his grip on his memory slipped away, his mind like a shattered mirror, its pieces scattered. As he tried to piece a few together, they disintegrate again into splintered fragments. A kaleidoscope of images’; scenes, noises, smells, feelings, memories – distant and recent advanced, receded, merged, unceasingly. He desperately strain

recognize a pattern; to insert the pieces of the jigsaw together and make up a picture he could comprehend.

Suddenly his body jerks with the sound of an explosion. A overpowering smell of gunpowder, blood, and singed flesh assail him. He is engulfed in the odour of death.

Then the kaleidoscope shifts and he is walking along a jungle path which, dream-like, turns into a field where the village boys are playing.

“Come and join us – we are catching grasshoppers,” they shout He shrinks back. “Are you afraid?” they taunt. “Grasshoppers don’t bite.”

“I’m not afraid of grasshoppers,” he affirms. Cupping his bands he traps a grasshopper on the ground. He feels its frantic movements against the hollow of his cupped palms.

“Grab it. Pick it up.” They bellow.

“No,” he says, “I may hurt it. It may die.”

“Coward! Coward! Coward!” they taunt with evil laughter. The word ‘coward’ ricochets in his head, as gunshots blast, around him.

“Shoot!” a voice booms behind him. “Shoot to kill. You blood coward shoot!”

His insides twist in fear as if an invisible band is clenching his guts. He lifts his gun and points at the young woman running towards him.

“Please don’t kill me. Please. Please,” she screams in Tamil as she draws closer with out-stretched arms. The white gemstone on her nostril glints as the sunlight catches it.

He places his finger on the trigger.

“Shoot!” the booming voice commands. “Shoot, you idiot!”

Images and sounds recede. Something tugs at him, sucking him down into a dark void of exhaustion; he struggles frantically and drags himself out slowly. The kaleidoscope shifts again.

His mother is seated cross-legged in her room on the cement floor. He is seated in her lap. She takes his little hands and places his palms together. He repeats the Pali stanza after her. Panatipata veramani sikkbapadam samadiyami . …

That’s the first precept she says. Then she explains what it means. You must never take the life of any living creature. Yes, not even an ant. Killing is a sin.

Suddenly the vision explodes like fireworks against his eyelids. Images pile one on top of another. Bodies thrown up in the air, coming down in pieces; blood and shattered bone; heads with eyeless black sockets. Shrill cries of terror.

The vision comes upon him again. The woman running towards him with outstretched arms. “Please, don’t kill me…

“Shoot! Shoot!”

He feels the coldness of the trigger on his forefinger. He feels the wetness of urine running down his leg.

“Coward! Coward! Coward!”

A gunshot echoes in his head. The woman crumples to the ground. He smells blood as he too collapses and lies on the parched earth. Intense pain stings like live coals at the back of his head.

“Ranjit,” the Matron’s voice grated on his raw nerves. “Your mother is here to see you.”

Ranjit’s fists clenched. Why couldn’t he be left alone! He needed to sort things out in his head. He needed to know what happened. He needed time to remember.

“Get out! Get out!” he screamed. “Just leave me alone.” Somawathie stepped back in shock, unbelieving, desperate.

Captain Welgama’s heavy boots stomped along the grey corridor behind the woman in the blue uniform. Suddenly, she slowed down, then stopped and looked at him.

“I’m telling you once again, Captain, Ranjit will not talk. He does not talk to anyone, and if he does, it will only be to chase you out.”

“But I need to talk to him Matron. It is important to me and perhaps to him too. I would have come earlier if I was allowed, but I was discharged from hospital only yesterday.” His voice was powerful even though he tried to speak softly. “You say he can’t remember what happened to him?”

“That’s what he told his mother. He does not speak to us.” They resumed walking.

The Captain frowned. “Maybe I could jog his memory. You see, we were fighting quite close to each other during the attack. saw him collapse, just before I got shot in my leg.”

He took out a handkerchief and wiped his face. “Tell me Matron, could Ranjit’s present problems be the result of the blow to his head?”

“I don’t know Captain, I’m not a doctor. Ranjit did suffer concussion. Sometimes, people can’t remember because they subconsciously block out memories, which are too painful. T here could be other reasons too for his loss of memory.”

The matron stopped at the entrance to Ward 12 and opened he door.

“Captain, I don’t think you should stay too long,” she murmured, moving towards the far end of the ward. Ranjit was lying on his bed with his eyes closed.

“You have a visitor, Ranjit,” the matron said with forced cheerfulness.

Ranjit screwed up his eyelids and tensed his body as if in anticipation of an onslaught. He was determined to resist any attempt to divert his attention from the vital task he had: to put together his shattered thoughts and make sense of the images that constantly besieged him.

“Hello Ranjit, how are you?” Captain Welgama tried to keep his voice down. “I would have come to see you earlier, but I was in hospital too. I was shot in my leg.” He dragged the chair that was against the wall by the window and sat by Ranjit’s bed.

Ranjit sat up as if galvanized by electricity. The voice boomed in his head echoing, vibrating like the sound of a gong. Shoot!

Shoot! Coward! Idiot! Shoot! His hands crumpled and clenched the bed sheet. His eyes stared at Captain Welgama unseeing. The captain stood up and placed his hands on Ranjit’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry, man, I’m truly sorry for what I did to you. I just lost control.”

Ranjit looked at Welgama, trying to, but not understanding him.

“I saw the woman running towards you, and you were in a better position to shoot. I couldn’t understand why you were, hesitating

The puzzle was slowly coming together in Ranjit’s head. “But’ she was asking to be spared, she was innocent, she was coming towards me with outstretched arms…

“Yes, but she could have been a suicide bomber. Why was she running towards you, instead of running away? What happened to all those months of training?”

“Was she…?”

“What?” Welgama interjected.

“A suicide bomber?”

“No, as it happens. But she could have been!”

Ranjit’s eyes were fixed on the bare wall, but his mind was seeing the woman, running towards him with her arms stretched out, pleading. He felt his hands lifting the gun as if in slow motion. He felt his finger on the trigger. The voice boomed from somewhere behind him. “Shoot! Shoot!” and suddenly his mind went blank.

The captain saw the anguish on the young man’s face and tried to say something to comfort him. But he couldn’t think of what to say. For a few moments they were locked in silence.

“You see, Ranjit,” Welgama said gently, as if speaking to a child, “by hesitating, you were putting so many lives in jeopardy. That is why I lost my temper. I brought my gun down on your head, with all the energy I could muster. It was such a savage blow; I might have killed you. I am sorry, Son.”

“I can’t remember you hitting me, or even falling down. I saw her falling after I’d shot her, and the next thing I remember is lying on the ground feeling a great pain in my head.”

“But you didn’t shoot her! That is why I hit you. I was behind you when I shot her. I shot her and then whacked you.”

Ranjit looked at the captain’s face, suddenly noticing his features for the first time. The deep-set eyes beneath his well-defined eyebrows, the slim long nose, the full lips and the slightly protruding teeth, and he felt a surge of gratitude. Gratitude to a man who helped him back to his senses; a man who’d lifted the heavy oppression that had been weighing him down, so long. The man who had used his gun on him with ferocity but now had brought resolution to his paralyzing mental turmoil.

“Did you say I didn’t kill her?” Ranjit wanted to hear it over and over again till every brain cell in his head was imbued with this knowledge. “Are you sure, Sir, are you sure?” Tension from his face and body was visibly easing. He felt a lightness of body and mind he had previously not experienced.

“Of course, you didn’t, man! I wish you had. Then you wouldn’t have suffered that head injury.” He walked to the window, drew the curtains apart and opened it. “It’s so hot, man, I don’t know how you stay in this room with the window closed!”

The curtains danced as a cool breeze blew in through the window.

“That is a beautiful bougainvillea,” commented the Captain, looking out. “It’s an unusual colour.”

Ranjit looked at the bougainvillea with new eyes. “Yes, Sir,” he said, “It is a brilliant colour.”



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Why ‘Southasianness’ should continue to matter for the ‘SAARC Eight’

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Ambassador Ravinatha Aryasinha (at centre of top table), other dignitaries and the RCSS team at the formalization of the SAU-RCSS agreement.

At a time when Sri Lanka’s foreign policy is coming under intense scrutiny by some local sections it is only right that impartial and independent commentators shed some clarity on what fundamental foreign policy directions Sri Lanka ought to take. The extremely fluid and complex nature of current international politics renders such an understanding crucially important.

Given its vulnerabilities in a number of spheres Sri Lanka has no choice but to persist in broadly following the path of Non-alignment. That is, it should be ‘a friend of all and an enemy of none’, to the extent possible. However, it does not follow that in the process it could compromise what is seen as its national interest.

The latter point needs stressing against the backdrop of the criticisms the Sri Lankan government has been attracting from some quarters over what is made out to be some opaqueness in security and defence cooperation agreements it has entered into with India. It remains advisable for the Sri Lankan government to enter into pacts of this nature with India, but the government is obliged to disclose the contents of these agreements to the Sri Lankan people without undue delay in consideration of the uncompromisable sovereign rights of a people in a democracy.

However, there is no denying that the government should make it a central foreign policy premise to always work in cooperation with India. A consideration of what it cost Sri Lanka in the past to be in a disharmonious relationship with India and how such policy missteps worked against Sri Lanka’s best interests ought to dictate to Sri Lanka the advisability of maintaining uninterrupted cordial ties with India. Moreover, common sense ought to drive home to a country the costs of being at loggerheads with one’s closest neighbour who has also proved a ‘ready friend in deed.’

That said, it is the bounden duty of Sri Lanka’s diplomatic community or establishment to ensure that such cooperation does not degenerate into a policy of subservience towards India. That is, finesse and farsightedness in local diplomacy become prime requirements.

While India’s geographical location and physical size, besides her other strengths, contribute towards her centrality in regional and world affairs, her neighbours would be thinking and acting far-sightedly if they not only focus on India and her legitimate interests but also ensure continuous friction-free intra-South Asian relations. That is, for them collective South Asian well being should be of fundamental importance.

Much more than for India perhaps, such harmonious ties are of inestimable importance to India’s neigbours who are up against multiple vulnerabilities which are to a great extent regionally rooted. The latter could never, that is, afford to take their minds off the region’s collective development prospects.

The above are some of the reasons why it could prove highly counter-productive and self-defeating for the ‘South Asian Eight’ to render dormant and ineffective the historic SAARC organization. Rather than ‘dead’ SAARC has been allowed to drift into the ‘Limbo of Forgotten Things.’

The growing inter-dependence of the ‘SAARC Eight’ ought to impress on the collectivity the need to step-up regional cooperation in multiple areas which impinge on its members’ legitimate interests. For instance, the youth-led ‘Cockroach’ revolts, first in India and subsequently outside, should convince South Asia that it is continuing to be plagued in a major way by poverty and equity-linked issues. That is, West-inspired, largely market economics-dictated ways to see an end to poverty are simply not working completely.

Likewise climate-related questions are ravaging South Asia in unimaginable ways; Nepal being just one case in point. The rationale for regional cooperation remains valid and undefeated. It is time for revived and stepped-up SAARC cooperation. That is, the solutions to the region’s development dilemmas need to be found in mainly the region.

This amounts to making a case for a continued sense of ‘Southasianness’ among the SAARC countries. That is the conviction should be firm that they know their developmental challenges best and that answers to these issues must be primarily evolved by the grouping itself in cooperation with concerned sections.

From the above viewpoints the Regional Centre for Strategic Studies (RCSS), Colombo did very well to tie-up with the South Asian University (SAU), India, to increase public awareness on the developmental problems affecting South Asia and for initiating a number collaborative measures that aim at ameliorating them. The relevant agreement was formalized in early September at the RCSS. The sealing of the pact took place under the aegis of SAU President Prof. K.K. Aggarwal and RCSS Executive Director Ambassador Ravinatha Aryasinha.

A press release issued by the organizations said the collaboration aims ‘to foster research networks, partnerships and collaborations for transformative change across South Asia.’ It also mentioned that the partnership marked the first agreement to be signed by SAU with an independent think tank in Sri Lanka.

Among other things, pacts such as the above are bold moves in the direction of fostering a spirit of intellectual independence in those areas of the South facing some of the stiffest developmental challenges. Rather than ‘import’ solutions to these challenges from outside the region, the SAU-RCSS initiative aims at fostering fresh approaches to evolving solutions to problems that are uniquely South Asian.

It is hoped that the SAU and RCSS initiative while leading a to a greater degree of Southern intellectual independence in the area of development thinking would also help in kick-starting the SAARC process all over again in a major way.

What ought to lend fresh urgency to the latter undertakings are fast-breaking current developments in international politics. It ought to be perceived by the most underdeveloped regions of the South that going forward their well being would matter least or not at all to the major powers of both East and West.

For example at the time of writing the foremost among US and Chinese political leaders are meeting in the US in what is made out to be a historic coming together of sorts to address issues of common concern. It is highly unlikely that the parties would be addressing the economic preoccupations of the least developed countries. The same goes for other states that matter from the East and West.

Essentially, the US and China would be looking at ways of strengthening business ties that matter majorly for them. The South and its issues would prove to be of peripheral interest, if at all they happen to matter to the protagonists. Such developments ought to be fresh reminders to the South and their collaborative organizations that there is no escaping self-help and joint solidarity.

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Is Sri Lanka prepared for global literacy crisis?

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by Prof. M.W. Amarasiri de Silva

Adult literacy has for a long time been one of Sri Lanka’s greatest sources of pride, serving as a social indicator that has set the country apart from several of its neighbours in the region. For many years Sri Lanka has been recognised for keeping its literacy rates at a level like those of middle-income countries and even some high-income ones, even though it has faced economic difficulties and political instability. However, since new global research has now shown an unexpected and concerning decline in adult literacy in several high-income countries, it is important to consider what this means for Sri Lanka.

The phenomenon described by Jishnu Das, Yash Dhuldhoya and Ethan Sager, the unexplained fall in functional literacy among adults in wealthy nations. calls for a more thorough examination of the nature of literacy, the pressures exerted by the modern information environment, and the vulnerabilities that Sri Lanka might encounter as it moves towards a more digital, ageing and complex society. Even though Sri Lanka’s basic literacy rates remain high and steady, the global trend acts as a warning that literacy is not a fixed accomplishment but a dynamic capability which must be continually fostered, safeguarded and adapted to changing circumstances.

Decline in functional literacy

The drop in literacy rate in high-income countries is not due to people losing the ability to read or write in the ordinary way. On the contrary, it reflects a decline in functional literacy, which is the capacity to deal with, understand, and apply information in real-life situations. This kind of literacy involves following instructions, comprehending official documents, using digital interfaces, interpreting medical information, and making sense of complicated texts that demand continuous attention.

Researchers stress that the decline cannot be attributed merely to disruptions caused by COVID-19 or the increasing use of smartphones; instead, there is going on something more fundamental: a weakening of the cognitive and informational bases that adults need to function properly in modern society. In countries such as the United States, the percentage of adults regarded as functionally illiterate has increased significantly, indicating that even highly educated societies are having difficulty in keeping up the skills required to handle ever more complex streams of information.

Sri Lanka immune?

At first sight, Sri Lanka seems to be immune from this trend. The country’s adult literacy rate is still above 92 per cent and youth literacy is even higher. According to the 2024 Census, literacy rates exceed 97 per cent among people aged ten and over, with nearly equal levels between the sexes. These figures show the continued strength of Sri Lanka’s system of free education, a system which in the past has guaranteed widespread access to school and has produced generation after generation of citizens who could read and write at a basic level.

There has also been a steady improvement in educational attainment, with an increasing number of adults finishing secondary education and a larger proportion going on to tertiary institutions. Unlike the mysterious drops observed in rich countries, Sri Lanka’s literacy figures demonstrate stability and even a slight improvement.

However, although the surface appearance is reassuring, an even more complicated reality exists. The literacy figures for Sri Lanka only record basic literacy, that is, the ability to read and write simple sentences, and they do not include measures of functional literacy. It is impossible to tell from these statistics whether adults can interpret a bank statement, understand a medical prescription, use an online government portal, or critically assess information that is spreading on social media. As is shown by the global trend, having a high level of basic literacy does not ensure a strong degree of functional literacy. On the contrary, functional literacy can fall even if basic literacy stays the same. This difference is important for Sri Lanka, particularly since the country is currently experiencing rapid digitalization, demographic ageing, and social change.

Major risk factor

A major risk factor is the move towards digital information environments. In high-income countries, researchers believe that the prevalence of smartphones and short-form digital content may be diminishing people’s ability to engage in deep reading. Nowadays, individuals take in information in short, rapid segments by scrolling through social media feeds, quickly reading headlines, and viewing short videos. Such behaviour decreases the opportunity for sustained reading, which is necessary for keeping comprehension, critical thinking, and the capacity to deal with complex information intact.

Sri Lanka is going through a comparable change. There has been a sharp increase in the number of people using smartphones, and social media sites have become the main sources of news, leisure, and communication. Although there are many advantages to having digital access, it also results in a situation where superficial reading becomes the standard approach and could therefore lead to a decline in functional literacy over time.

Demographic ageing as challenge

A further challenge that is coming up is demographic ageing. Sri Lanka is rapidly moving towards becoming an ageing society, with an increasing number of older people who might experience cognitive decline, have less exposure to new information, and enjoy few opportunities for further learning. In high-income countries, ageing populations have led to a fall in functional literacy since older individuals have had difficulty adapting to digital systems and complicated bureaucratic procedures.

The older generation in Sri Lanka, many whom were educated many decades ago under different curriculum standards, could end up becoming increasingly vulnerable in a world in which essential services, such as banking and healthcare, are being moved online. If appropriate support is not provided, the country may witness a growing gap between basic literacy and functional literacy among older adults.

In Sri Lanka, the way in which administration and the workplace are organised has in the past placed greater trust in personal communication and on basic forms of documentation. What in high-income countries would require complex reading is instead carried out through face-to-face contact in Sri Lanka. Nevertheless, this situation is now changing. Government services are becoming available online, banks are introducing digital systems, and in workplaces there is an increasing need for employees to use electronic systems. Since these changes are happening at a faster rate, the demand for functional literacy will increase. Should adults not be able to meet these new demands, Sri Lanka might start to see the kind of decline in literacy that has been seen in other places.

Misinformation and disinformation

Another worry is the spread of misinformation and disinformation. In Sri Lanka, there has already been the quick dissemination of false information via social media, with this having an impact on public health, politics, and social cohesion. Since functional literacy is essential for allowing people to assess sources, doubt the claims made, and tell the difference between reliable information and falsehoods, a lack of functional literacy causes societies to be more open to manipulation, polarisation, and confusion.

The fact that there has been a global drop in functional literacy at the same time as misinformation has increased points to a dangerous feedback cycle: when literacy is low people become more prone to misinformation, and the misinformation in turn damages their ability to think critically about information. Given that the country has a high level of social media use and a lack of digital literacy training, Sri Lanka should take this risk seriously.

Even though there are these risks, Sri Lanka has several advantages which can assist in avoiding a drop in functional literacy. The country’s system of basic education is still strong, showing high enrolment figures and good results in basic literacy.

Families in Sri Lanka still place a great deal of importance on education and reading is still a respected cultural activity. Furthermore, because of its relatively small size and the fact that it has a centralized form of government, it is more efficient than in bigger countries to carry out nationwide literacy campaigns. These strengths offer a firm basis for developing new strategies for protecting and improving functional literacy.

Literacy a process

It should be realised by Sri Lanka that attaining literacy is not a single accomplishment achieved in childhood. In the modern world, literacy must be a skill that is constantly put into practice, kept up to date and adapted to changing circumstances. The fact that adult literacy is declining worldwide shows that even in wealthy countries with well-developed education systems deterioration can occur if adults are not supported in keeping their cognitive and informational abilities. Sri Lanka cannot afford to be careless.

It is necessary for the country to invest in adult education, in programmes concerning digital literacy and in the development of cognitive skills for all age groups. It also needs to establish ways of measuring functional literacy rather than just basic literacy so that policymakers can detect emerging weaknesses and act in advance.

A vital measure is to increase the opportunities for adult learning. Although Sri Lanka has effective literacy programmes based in schools, the country’s infrastructure for adult education is limited. Community centres, libraries, universities, and vocational institutes should take on a more significant role by providing courses, workshops, and reading programmes which are tailored for adults. The programmes should place an emphasis not just on reading and writing but also on digital navigation, critical thinking, and information processing. Adults should be given the chance to practise the skills that are necessary for them to function effectively in a rapidly changing world.

Importance of digital literacy programmes

It is just as important to have digital literacy programmes. Since an increasing number of services are being offered online, adults need to learn how to use digital tools with confidence and in a safe manner. This involves knowing how to fill out online forms, moving around on government websites, using banking apps, and being able to spot misinformation. The digital literacy courses available should be accessible, affordable, and adapted to different age groups, especially older adults who might feel put off by technology. Schools can also contribute by incorporating digital literacy into their curriculum so that future generations acquire good functional literacy skills from an early age.

Sri Lanka should also investigate introducing policies which promote cognitive health among older people. Since cognitive decline can lead to a deterioration of functional literacy, it becomes more difficult for older individuals to deal with information. It is possible to help keep cognitive function by setting up programmes that promote reading, social interaction, physical activity, and continued learning. During regular medical visits, healthcare professionals should include cognitive assessments so that any problems affecting literacy-related skills can be picked up early.

Sri Lanka needs to create tools for measuring functional literacy, since the figures available on basic literacy give an incomplete account of the country’s capabilities. By using assessments of functional literacy like those employed in high-income countries, Sri Lanka would be able to monitor how well its adults can apply their literacy skills in real-life situations.

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From Colombo to Vegas: Sri Lankan talent shines at WCOPA

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Chris with Sachini Ayendra, the very first contestant who represented Sri Lanka at WCOPA 2015 / Bronze winner at WCOPA 2026 Natharie Wickramasinghe with her parents

The World Championships of Performing Arts (WCOPA) is known globally as the Olympics of performing arts, but Sri Lankans came to know of it more closely when Natharie Wickramasinghe, representing Team Sri Lanka at WCOPA 2026, in Las Vegas, earned a Bronze Medal in the Ethnic/Folklore Dance category.

Behind Sri Lanka’s WCOPA journey is Sri Lanka-born Chris Rajendra, who migrated to the United States in 2007, and deserves special congratulations.

Passionate about discovering and promoting talent, Chris has been actively involved in the pageant and performing arts, industry since 2002.

A major milestone came in 2015, when he introduced WCOPA, to Sri Lanka, for the first time, creating an international platform for Sri Lankan performers.

Sachini Ayendra became the very first candidate to represent Sri Lanka at WCOPA, in 2015, marking the beginning of Team Sri Lanka’s journey.

Chris served as National Director for Team Sri Lanka from 2015 to 2018, and has returned to the role for the 2026–2027 term, continuing his commitment to identifying, developing and promoting Sri Lankan talent internationally.

His involvement in pageantry and performing arts includes:

Recruiter, Miss Nevada United States – 2014

Chris Rajendra: National Director – WCOPA Team  Sri Lanka

Manager, Miss Colombia Las Vegas – 2013 to 2017

Director for the West Coast and International Divisions of Ms. Latina International and Ms. International World – 2017

National Director for Team Sri Lanka – WCOPA, 2015–2018 and 2026–2027

Co-National Director for Team USA – WCOPA 2026

In the USA, Chris began his career in retail before transitioning into insurance and financial services, where he built extensive experience in sales, marketing, leadership and business development.

He owned and operated a brokerage, affiliated with multiple insurance companies, and later served as Marketing Director with Transamerica and World Financial Group.

As his business expanded across Las Vegas and California, he continued to hone his expertise in sales, marketing and client relations. He now works as a Sales Executive at Hilton Grand Vacations.

Looking ahead, Chris will shortly launch the application process for Team Sri Lanka 2027, giving talented Sri Lankan performers another opportunity to represent the country on the world stage.

The 2027 World Championships of Performing Arts will take place in Las Vegas, USA, in July or August 2027.

Through his work in both the corporate and performing arts worlds, Chris Rajendra continues to combine leadership, networking and talent development — creating opportunities for Sri Lankan performers to showcase their abilities on a global platform.

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