Features
Drafting an amendment to the Order in Council and hosting a Commonwealth Conference
Excerpted from Memoirs of a Cabinet Secretary by BP Peiris
During the latter half of 1948, while holding the post of Assistant Secretary to the Cabinet, I was appointed as Secretary to the Commission on the Amendment of the Ceylon Constitution Order in Council. The members of the Commission were the Hon. L. A. Rajapakse, H. V. Perera, K. C., Sir Ivor Jennings, E. A. P. Wijeratne, G. G. Ponnambalam and J. A. Maartensz.
With so many legal brains on the Commission, I found the discussions most interesting. It was my first experience in a secretarial capacity to a Commission. My duty, as Secretary, was first to find a place at which to hold our meetings. The President of the Senate was kind enough to place one of the Senate Committee Rooms at our disposal, and meetings were held in the evenings because the busy legal practitioners on the Commission found it difficult to attend meetings during the court hours.
We were asked to report on the provisions of the Order in Council relating to the disqualification of persons for sitting or voting in Parliament. Two sections raised many difficulties, namely, the section disqualifying a person for holding a contract with the Crown and the section disqualifying persons who were serving or had served terms of imprisonment. A third difficulty arose by reason of the definition of ‘British subject’, which disqualified a person for sitting in Parliament if he was not a British subject.
‘British subject’ was defined in our Constitution to mean ‘a person who is a British subject according to the law for the time being of the United Kingdom, any person who has been naturalized under any enactment of any of His Majesty’s dominions and any person who is a citizen or subject of any of the Indian States as defined for the purposes of the Government of India Act, 1935″. Then came the British Nationality Act 1948, of the Parliament of the United Kingdom which created the status known as ‘Commonwealth citizen’, and gave it the same meaning as ‘British subject’.
This complicated matters a bit as D.S. Senanayake was anxious to keep the Indian labourers on estates out of the franchise and out of membership of the House of Representatives. Sir Ivor agreed to write the Report on these three matters. I agreed to write the rest and asked him to send me his draft as I had to fit my language to suit his. The report, as finally drafted by Sir Ivor and myself, was agreed to by all the Commissioners; there was no dissent. It was published as Sessional paper No. I of 1949.
I was next directed by D.S. Senanayake to be Assistant Secretary to the Commonwealth Foreign Ministers’ meeting to be held in Colombo. This was the first time such an important conference was being held in Ceylon and we had no experience of how to run the secretariat. The Secretaries to the Conference were Sir Norman Brook, Secretary to the U. K. Cabinet, and Mr (later Sir) Kanthiah Vaithianathan, Permanent Secretary to the Ministry of Defence and External Affairs. The Assistants were, from Ceylon: B. Mahadeva, R. Coomaraswamy and I, and from the U. K., Lloyd of the Foreign office, Bavin and Sykes of the Cabinet Office and Davey of the Commonwealth Relations Office. The Chief Clerk was Pink of the U.K. Cabinet Office.
Pink arrived in Ceylon on an advance visit two months before the Conference was due to begin. The UK Government was obviously not going to take any risks by entrusting the running of the Conference to an inexperienced Ceylon secretariat. Pink introduced himself to me and said he had been sent to see to all the preliminary arrangements. The heavy equipment like steel filing cabinets, roneo machines, typewriters, dispatch cases etc. would all be brought from England.
Nine girls from the U. K. Cabinet office would be coming to run the office. We were asked to supply the paper, pencils, clips, pins and other little things normally used at a conference. Pink gave me a complete list of his requirements and wanted to see the Conference Room which was the Cabinet Room. He was satisfied. Apart from the delegations, there was room only for three officials from each delegation. He wanted to see where Sir Norman would work, where the Assistants would work, and where he and the girls would work, all with one eye on absolute security, The President of the Senate had placed the entire Senate Building, except the Chamber, at the disposal of the staff. Pink was thoroughly satisfied with the arrangements.
Before he left, I took him out to show him a bit of the country. He had been so busy during his short stay that he had no time to get out of Colombo. We drove to the Hanwella rest house along the Low Level Road and there had a couple of glasses of arrack which I carried in a flask. Pink took about three millimeters topped up with ginger beer, and said it was far too strong.
On the return, we took the High Level Road to my home for lunch. I had asked my wife to prepare a lunch of rice and ‘soft’ curries, without too much pepper and chilly. Pink enjoyed the lunch and the drive and remembered the arrack when he came a second time for the Conference.
It was my duty to get the Conference Room ready. I had the floors and tables highly polished. Staffs for the flags of the different nations represented at the Conference had to be specially made and erected. In view of the rather unusual frontage of the Senate building, these staffs had to be of different lengths as all the flags had to fly at the same height. This work was carried out by the Public Works Department. The table was ready the day previous to the Conference, with a tin of cigarettes for each delegation, a decanter of water, matches etc. The room looked like a mirror. I locked the door and took the key in my charge.
Officers of the Criminal Investigation Department then walked in and asked me for permission to inspect the room from the point of view of security. I said I had already had a look, locked the room and taken the key. They said it was their responsibility and not mine, and demanded the key, which I was forced to give. They were armed with stepladders, electric torches and I don’t know what else. I reminded them that the floor had been highly polished and begged of them not to spoil it by dragging their ladders along.
They were very careful with the floor. But they pulled every book out of the bookcases, they pulled the cushions out of the chairs, they climbed the ladders to examine the electric lights and the fans, they even went to inspect the lavatories in their fruitless search for hidden bombs. Having completed the search, the senior officer asked me to lock the room again and hand him the key. This, I refused to do, as I was responsible for the key.
He therefore posted an armed guard with a bayonet in front of the door with instructions that no one, not even myself, was to be allowed to enter the room until he came the next morning and dismissed the guard. I informed the officer that I had work to do inside the room the next morning and told him that the guard should be dismissed at 8 a.m.
On the next morning, the guard was still on duty when I arrived and had not been dismissed; nor was the officer present. I was prevented from opening the door. I asked him to go and call his officer, and he said he could not leave his post. I asked him what his orders were, and he said “Shoot if anyone tries to get in.” I was angry; but orders were orders, and the poor devil was only doing his duty. I also had a job to do. I told him that I would give him and his officer another half an hour, that I would then open the door, and that he could carry out his order.
Just as I went up the second time to open the door, the Inspector came panting and apologized to me. Strong words passed, and I had to tell him that if the guard did not dismiss himself automatically at 8 a.m. in future, I would have to go to the Prime Minister for his order. There was no further trouble.
The hours of duty during the ten days of the Conference were from about 7. 30 a.m. to about 3 a.m. the next morning. The staff of the Secretariat, including the nine girls (three of whom were extremely pretty) arrived by special plane and were housed at the Grand Oriental Hotel. The hours of work were such that they had no time to go to the hotel for meals and it was arranged that all meals should be served in the Senate Refreshment Room on Government hospitality.
One day, when I was sipping an arrack in the Refreshment Room (I had two bottles of double-distilled of my own), Sir Norman came in for a drink and inquired what I was having. I was having mine in a sherry glass. When I told him what my drink was, he said he had heard a lot about Ceylon arrack and expressed a desire to taste some. I called for my bottle but warned him that the drink was strong and advised him to dilute it. I was sipping mine neat and he said he would have it the same way and in the same sort of glass. He had several, after which I gave an order that whenever Sir Norman came for a meal, my bottle was to be placed on his table.
Sir Norman instructed each of his Assistants as regards his duties. We were each, in turn, to take a half hour of duty and present to him a draft, which he would consolidate and revise before circulation to the delegates. He worked hard at it till about 11 p.m. which was our normal dinner hour, his hair pulled down over his forehead and his bottle of gin on his table.
Vaithianathan was on the ceremonial side and had nothing to do with the minutes. Brook’s final draft was sent to the typing room to be attended to by the girls, who were in the charge of a lady supervisor from the U. K. Civil Service. Practice required that the minutes of a meeting should be on the breakfast plates of delegates the following morning. They were delivered to a responsible officer of the delegation under armed police guard.
Everything went well till about the third day. I was going down to dinner at about 11 p.m. when I found Pink coming out of his room for the same purpose. We walked along the corridor together. On the way, he said he was understaffed, that his girls were overworked, that in view of the secret nature of the work, typists from outside could not be employed, and inquired whether I had three typists in my office whose services I could spare. I had only three, and I released them all immediately for work in the typing room.
Now, for the actual Conference. As I said, elaborate security measures had been taken for the safety of the delegates and no person was admitted into the Senate building except on presentation of an identity card. Members of delegations were requested to make it a point to carry their cards and not to misunderstand the instruction. The police had been instructed to enforce the rule strictly.
Papers were circulated twice a day, at 8 a.m. and 10 p.m. in locked boxes, the keys of which were handed to the delegations as they arrived. Steel cabinets and iron safes were provided in the office of each delegation. S. K. D. Jayamane was in charge of Protocol. The Delegations were as follows:
Ceylon:
Rt Hon. D.S. Senanayake, Senator L. A. Rajapakse, Mr J. R. Jayewardene and Mr R. G. Senanayake.
United Kingdom
Rt Hon. Ernest Bevin, M. P., Rt Hon. P. J. Noel Baker, M. P., Rt Hon. Malcolm Macdonald and Sir Walter Hankinson
Canada
Mr Lester Pearson
Australia
Mr P. C. Spender, K. C., Mr H. R. Gollan, Mr J. E. Oldham and Mr C. W. Frost
New Zealand
Mr F. W. Doidge
South Afric
a Mr Paul Sauer and Mr D. D. Forsyth
India
Pandit Nehru, Mr V. K. Krishna Menon and Mr V. V. Giri
Pakistan
Mr Ghulam Mohamed, Mr H. I. Rahimtoola and Mr M. Ikramulla
Delegates arrived at the Cabinet office in cars displaying their National flags. Nehru, who arrived in the Governor-General’s car, preferred to return on foot amidst cheers from the crowd who were kept by the Police to the other side of the pavement. Ernest Bevin was a guest of the Prime Minister at ‘Temple Trees’. Other delegates were housed at different hotels.
One day, after my half hour of duty, I came out of the room to smoke but found I had no matches. Immediately, a gentleman seated in the lobby rose and said, “I can notice a man in distress, Sir, I am from Scotland Yard.” He was Bevin’s bodyguard. Nehru was a heavy smoker. He always left a meeting whistling one of Strauss’ Viennese waltzes.
Features
Eastern University and the making of a culture of peace
by Jehan Perera
There is an important change in the way peace is being understood in Sri Lanka. The notion that peacebuilding is not simply the responsibility of governments, politicians and peace organisations, but is also a responsibility of educational institutions, appears to be permeating the consciousness of at least a section of the academic community. This was visible on International Peace Day at an event held at Eastern University by the Faculty of Health-Care Sciences. The event was unusual not least because the medical and nursing faculty of the university had decided that peacebuilding was relevant to its academic and professional responsibilities.
Peacebuilding has too often been treated as something undertaken after conflict, when the fighting has stopped and the immediate task is to rebuild relationships between communities. But peace cannot be sustained by governments and peace organisations alone. If it is to become long lasting, the values and practices of peace have to become part of the institutions through which a society educates its younger generations. Universities and other educational institutions are therefore important to peacebuilding. They are among the places where the foundations of a culture of peace can either be built or neglected.
The experience of the Faculty of Health-Care Sciences at Eastern University provides a practical example of what this can mean. Led by its Dean, Prof Thillainathan Sathaananthan, the faculty organised an event which went beyond the ordinary academic scope of a medical faculty. University academics are experts in writing project proposals and applying for research grants. On this occasion, the members of the Faculty of Health-Care Sciences used those skills to apply for a UNESCO grant that they won to conduct an International Peace Day event. The significance lies less in the Rs 200,000 grant than in the decision to use the university’s institutional capacity and resources to invest in peacebuilding. The event at Eastern University needs to be understood as more than a successful university programme. It represents a possible paradigm shift in peace thinking.
Institutional Commitment
The Peace Day event obtained the support of the university administration, including Vice Chancellor Prof P Peratheepan, and reached out to secondary schools in the vicinity to mobilise their attendance. The event itself was meticulously organised. There were cultural items including traditional and modern dance and song in the three languages, performed by combinations of solo, duet and multiple singers, dancers and actors drawn in part from nearby secondary schools. There was a panel discussion by senior academics on the general theme of peacebuilding and how to prepare for it. A discussion among the students followed, where each student spoke on behalf of a religion that was not theirs. This is significant because peacebuilding cannot remain an idea discussed by specialists at conferences. It has to become part of the way institutions educate and prepare people for life in a plural society.
The Faculty of Health-Care Sciences at Eastern University has provided a model through its Peace Medicine course modules that were introduced to the curricular as a compulsory core course over 10 years ago. Two senior academics, Dr Kuveriel Eliyas Karunakaran and Dr Thillainathan Sathaananthan, have written a book on “Peace Medicine- A Health Care Concern” that was published five years ago. Its Peace Medicine Module integrates principles of medical ethics, compassion, equity, social justice and community engagement into health education and practice. In his introduction, former Vice Chancellor of Eastern University, Prof T Jayasingam noted “This book is an introduction to a theme which had already been operating in the Faculty of Health Care Sciences as a course.”
Doctors, nurses and health workers know better than anyone the harm that war and violence does. They are the people who treat the wounds and trauma that violence leaves behind. In a hospital, a patient is not asked what their religion or ethnicity is before they are treated. Health care is one of the places where peace is practised every day. The Faculty has therefore found a way of connecting its professional responsibilities with the wider social responsibility of peacebuilding. The question is whether this experience can be replicated throughout the country, at universities and at other educational institutions, so that peacebuilding becomes part of the consciousness of education itself. If that happens on a sufficient scale, it can begin to generate a culture of peace that becomes increasingly difficult to reverse.
Local Action
The Eastern University event corresponded closely to the United Nations theme for this year’s International Day of Peace, “Invest in Peace – For Everyone, Everywhere, Every Day”, which honours the “everyday architects of peace”, people driving local action, laying the groundwork for stability and building lasting peace from the ground up. The emphasis on investment is important. An investment means that something is put in: time, courage and resources. There is no more violent conflict in Sri Lanka today. But the absence of war does not automatically produce a culture of peace. The factors that fed the country’s conflict have not disappeared from the world. Racism, corruption and the violation of laws and human rights are the raw materials of conflict. So too are unresolved grievances, discrimination and the failure to recognise the suffering of others.
A country that does not deal with its past does not escape it. The past can return in the next generation. This is why the experience of Eastern University needs to be replicated countrywide, both at universities and at other educational institutions. The objective should not be to turn every academic discipline into peace studies. Rather, peacebuilding needs to become part of the consciousness of education itself. Eastern University shows that a medical faculty can develop Peace Medicine. A law faculty can examine the relationship between justice, rights and peace. Faculties of education can prepare teachers to work in diverse communities, while the humanities and social sciences can examine the different narratives through which communities understand their histories. Every institution can find its own way of making peacebuilding relevant to what it teaches.
Sri Lanka has had many declarations, pledges and programmes in the past. What matters is whether these produce changes in behaviour and institutional practice. Peacebuilding requires confronting difficult issues rather than avoiding them. It requires respect for different identities, but also engagement across those identities. It requires dealing with grievances in the present while also addressing unresolved issues from the past. It requires truth, accountability, reparations and guarantees of non-recurrence. It requires people to learn that the rights of another community do not diminish their own rights. The International Peace Day event at Eastern University was evidence of a change in the way at least some academics in a part of the country deeply affected by war are thinking about their responsibilities. Peace needs to be invested in and the most important investment will be in the minds of those who will inherit the future.
Features
Quality assured education commodities
by Ahilan Kadirgamar
I have always noticed the little paper tags that are inside the packaging of some products that say quality assured or quality control. I often wonder who might have checked the product and stamped that tag, but I also forget the tag soon enough. Decades later, when I entered academia, I was taken aback by the emphasis placed on quality assurance in our universities. It is not something that could be forgotten and done away with; the entire university system is obsessed with quality assurance.
Beginning with the staff induction programme, quality assurance is drilled into the newly recruited lecturers. It is the norm, not seen as doing any harm and only trying to improve quality. It is accepted as given, and not questioned. Quality Assurance Cells and Committees are omnipresent and hover above the Departments and, at times, even the Faculty Boards. Quality Assurance reviews are feared by the Deans and Vice Chancellors. University life itself seems secondary to the rule of quality assurance. What do we make of this system of quality assurance and what are its implications for our university system?
Corporate speak
Universities globally have been going through major changes with neoliberal education policies. In many countries, universities increasingly became corporatised to be run like businesses in the 1980s. As state support for universities declined, cost cutting became the norm. They started hiring adjunct or part-time staff. Many public non-fee levying universities around the world began to charge fees. Decade by decade, tuition fees became more and more exorbitant, forcing students to take student loans. The total student debt in the United States now stands at close to US$ 2 trillion; which is about 20 times the GDP of Sri Lanka. As the higher education landscape transformed in the West, university administrations began to recruit Presidents, Vice Chancellors and administrative officials with corporate backgrounds and experience.
Such corporatisation of universities in the West has since been imported into countries like Sri Lanka, introducing a new corporate vocabulary, including quality assurance, graduate competencies, programme outcomes, intended learning outcomes, etc. University teaching has become secondary to documenting so-called outcomes. The teacher-student relationship, the environment of the lecture hall and even administering the university have been over-determined by the processes of ensuring quality. How did such major changes come about in such a short time? Indeed, academics of just two generation ago, would never have heard of these terms and processes in the Sri Lankan university system.
World Bank Trojan horse
Since the early 2000s there have been a number of World Bank projects that have drastically changed the character of Sri Lankan universities. Quality assurance as a central agenda within universities, and many other changes to the working of our universities, came through these World Bank initiatives. The Improving Relevance and Quality of Undergraduate Education (IRQUE) project and Higher Education for the 21st Century (HETC) project were two such earlier projects that set up the Quality Assurance and Accreditation Unit (QAAU) under the University Grants Commission (UGC) and established systematic quality assurance reviews for state universities. The public often thinks these are grants from the World Bank to modernise our universities. However, they are not grants but loans.
The most recent such project, Accelerating Higher Education Expansion and Development (AHEAD) is a US$ 100 million loan from the World Bank implemented from 2018 to 2023, which consolidated the quality assurance structures from the earlier projects. Furthermore, these projects are implemented with tremendous arrogance, prioritising their implementation over all other concerns in the universities, when the project over six years for example accounts for just one fourth of our budget allocation for universities this year.
The AHEAD project drastically changed course curricula, sought to increase student enrolment in science, technology, engineering, mathematics (STEM) disciplines, commercialise the university research agenda and create university-business linkages. All of this was pushed to supposedly help us face development challenges. We have heard the ideological attack on our universities and even students claiming they are “unemployable graduates”. These changes to our higher education system were supposedly going to create jobs and increase employment.
The irony of the AHEAD project is that just as it was ending in 2023, apparently after having reached its targets, the Sri Lankan economy was collapsing. The World Bank often gets the direction of causality wrong. It is the economy that creates jobs for graduates, and not the training or kind of graduates that create jobs. It is decades of World Bank policies, and those of its ideological twin the IMF, that have led to such high youth unemployment, not only in Sri Lanka but also in many other countries in the global South.
Sri Lanka entered an IMF agreement in March 2023 and started a new Country Partnership Framework with the World Bank in June 2023. These programmes have little to say about, and actively discourage, government initiatives that aim to create an industrial policy or an employment creation policy. Instead, they push for austerity measures, which not only restrict the allocation for education among other sectors, but also end up contracting the economy to the detriment of increasing employment. Their goal is the commercialisation of higher education, to make universities into businesses and run them like factories.
In this context, the ideology of quality assurance is powerful. The International Organisation for Standardisation (ISO), whose different standards are necessary for marketing, is the institution that came up with the concept of “quality assurance”. It promoted quality assurance as a process of identifying defected products. Therefore, when the World Bank promotes this conceptual framing, our students are, in fact, seen as products on the assembly line, with quality assurance processes aiming to prevent the release of defected products from the university system. For the US$ 100 million we borrowed for the AHEAD project and the many more million dollars in similar World Bank projects, there is no evidence of increased employment of graduates.
Commodity fetishism
Over a century and a half ago, Karl Marx critiqued the economic analysis prevalent at that time that associated some inherent or monetary value for commodities without considering the social relations that underlie the production of those commodities. Marx called this commodity fetishism. Furthermore, he theorised that such commodity fetishism was also a reason for the alienation of human beings from the world. If our labour and what we produce is seen devoid of the social relations that underlie them, we lose our connection with the people and the world. In this process we become alienated from what we produce and the world.
We are now in a world where our students themselves are fetishised as commodities for the market. Universities are no longer communities concerned about knowledge and human growth, but mere factories producing commodities, which have to be produced without defects to be marketed. In this way, quality assurance has become the cause for the alienation of students, academics and our universities themselves, from the larger relationship with our economy and society.
Our university system does need reform. It is grossly underfunded and not providing the financial support and facilities for our students. Universities have become hierarchical spaces without the academic freedom and democratic ethos necessary for producing knowledge. Academics and students need to engage more with their communities to make their learning and research meaningful, not to mention their contribution to and integration with society. However, when it comes to even questions of governance and regulation of the universities, such concerns are merely reduced to improving quality. In our contemporary times, this singular focus on quality assurance, as opposed to addressing the larger structural issues, is crippling our universities. There may be no way out, but to put back quality assurance where it started, those little tags on goods, to perhaps be noticed but quickly forgotten.
Ahilan Kadirgamar is a political economist and Senior Lecturer, University of Jaffna.
(Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies)
Features
Thailand’s biggest new global star …
The entertainment scene, globally, is agog with excitement, and, why not!
Yes, a new global star has emerged … from Thailand, and she hit the headlines by winning America’s Got Talent.
Rattikarn Amloy, known to millions by her stage name Nene Royal, was crowned the winner of America’s Got Talent (AGT) Season 21 at the live finale at Pasadena Civic Auditorium, California, taking home the USD 1 million grand prize.
The 16-year-old rocker, from the holiday island of Phuket (I’ve been to Phuket, courtesy Tourism Authority of Thailand), has struck a power chord around the world, and is the first Thai national ever to win the hit NBC show.
She beat nine other finalists, including runner-up magician Geno Ploeger, after a blistering final performance.
Nene’s story is pure rock and roll fairy-tale. She says she picked up a guitar at age seven, fell in love at the first chord, and taught herself mostly by watching videos online. That dedication earned her a music scholarship to Kajonkiet International School Phuket.
Her audition at America’s Got Talent — a swaggering, shredding rendition of The Cranberries’ classic ‘Zombie’ — exploded online, amassing over 200 million views across AGT’s platforms, more than any act this season.
She kept wowing: ‘Hysteria’ by Muse, then ‘Black Hole Sun’ by Soundgarden which earned her Spice Girl Mel B’s Golden Buzzer, sending her straight to the live shows.
For the final, she unleashed ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes. Judge Howie Mandel shouted: “You should win. Give her the million, America.” Mel B praised her “mysterious, mystical stage presence”.
And for the grand finale, she lived every teen rocker’s dream — performing on stage, alongside US rock giants Linkin Park.
When host Terry Crews announced her as winner, the teenager collapsed to the stage floor in tears. “I’m very happy and you know I’m emotional right now,” she said.
And Thailand erupted. Her school held watch parties, posting: “You did it, congratulations, champion. We are so proud of you.”
Even Prime Minister Anutin Charnvirakul sent a personal congratulation. He had earlier hosted Nene at Government House in July, where she played guitar while he sang a Thai rock song. His office said her talent “brought pride to Thai people.”
Corporate Thailand also rallied behind her — Charoen Pokphand Foods, owned by billionaire Dhanin Chearavanont, even rented a giant billboard in Times Square, New York, to cheer her on.
With her blistering guitar solos, rock-ballad shrieks and fearless spirit, little Nene Royal has just become Thailand’s biggest new global star.
What’s more, this amazing teenager will be bringing her powerful vocals, guitar skills and signature rock-metal style to the stage, as opening act, before one of the world’s biggest rock bands, America’s Avenged Sevenfold, in Singapore, on 13 October.
Unfortunately, we are still to see a local artiste, grab the spotlight, on a global scale … like Thailand’s Nene.
Yes, they do shine, but mostly on social media, and that, too, with the aid of AI (Artificial Intellegence).
-
News6 days agoMastermind Naufer Moulavi among 15 found guilty
-
Midweek Review6 days agoThileepan’s fast unto death: An authentic narrative that many missed
-
Latest News5 days agoShowers above 100 mm are likely at some places in the Western, Sabaragamuwa, Central and North-western provinces and in Galle and Matara Districts
-
Editorial6 days agoBig Bad Bills
-
Editorial5 days agoCrimes punished and unpunished
-
Features4 days agoBeyond traditional jobs: Why Sri Lanka needs to facilitate the gig economy
-
News6 days agoNo referendum needed for passage of 22 A: SC
-
Latest News6 days agoMs. P. M. Jayadeera (Engineer) appointed Director General of Irrigation
