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Instructors of English, and their positioning in ELTDs

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and the wider context of Higher Education

by Ashanthi Ekanayake

The devalued or undervalued role of the English instructor, which has a certain gendered aspect as women outnumber men, and as it is generally perceived as a category, deserves some consideration.

As an Instructor of English, I want this to read like the personal account it is, but I also want it to have some depth and validity as it is an exercise which seeks answers to the questions of systemic injustices and inequities and inequalities we face as professions, and explore the question of how we might overcome the oppression and gain a semblance of agency, though we remain a small group.

To start where my journey began, after a brief stint at the Department of Classical Languages after graduation in the obligatory position of temporary lecturer, I was gratified when I obtained a position as a permanent instructor in April of 2004. When I first discussed my prospects as an Instructor of English with my friend’s mother, whom I thought of as a role model, as she was not just a mom but also an accomplished academic of some renown, she said, “ell if you want to bring up a family and also engage in a profession, this is a good one.

” Warning bells should have rung then, but I then went ahead and secured myself a position. The second time I would hear something about how an English Instructor was generally perceived was when a senior academic, whom I looked up to, made a tongue in cheek comment. “Well,” he said ponderously, “the ELTU was at one point seen as a place for wives, girlfriends and mistresses of academics.” That gave me a very clear indication of how my profession and its category stood in comparison to the others in the University.

Yet I remained quite impervious, until I made the mistake of introducing myself as a “lecturer” to an academic of the medical faculty. He did not mince words in disabusing me of my misperception of my standing in the wider university community. Thereafter I would introduce myself very succinctly as an instructor of English to all and sundry and the be caught up in an explanation of where exactly my position fitted in the university system, a difficult endeavour at the best of times, which turned out to be demeaning to boot, because we were it appeared neither fish, flesh, nor fowl.

But why am I giving unnecessary history and personal history at that? Well sometimes the personal is the universal, so bear with me, I promise not to disappoint you.

I continued on my merry-way working in many of the ELTUs of the university of Peradeniya, and became aware of the many systemic injustices, inequities and inequalities that is part and parcel of the experience. The differences and imparities operated on multiple levels but then I was just biding my time. I was not sure what I was waiting for, but I was busy making a living, working, attempting to become qualified, becoming a parent so on and so forth, basically doing everything a mother and a professional does.

As the most junior member of the permanent staff, I did not see how I was going to change the situation anytime soon. Meanwhile, a promotional scheme had come into effect and gone and many things had happened. I was impervious and had been too busy complaining about being underpaid, exploited and undervalued. Things were changing and I was finding some of these changes and my experiences difficult to grapple with.

Like many positions in the system, mine had no clear job description. There was that frightening clause at the end of my letter of appointment, I was to perform “any and all duties” as directed by my head of department. I was safe while my HoD was fair and human, and the demands being made did not appear at least on the surface unfair. My workload according to my grade was between 14 to 16 contact teaching hours, spread across the five-day working week, except during the intensives when one would teach for longer hours. Still tolerable. So, one continued.

Then, I became aware of a few things. Most academics and many in the non-academic staff, took it as a given that we were of a lower category, and came lower in the pecking order. They would on occasion become quite abusive. As a woman, I was made to feel extremely vulnerable because I was not aware of the system and its intricacies and the apparatuses and mechanisms available for my/ our protection. To use a posh term, I was not aware of my positioning and my sense of agency within the system. To add to this one of my supervisors were given to saying that we as a group were too empowered. Was that such a bad thing? Empowerment meant that we were able to carry out duties in a healthy environment.

Recently, when I spoke of the agency available to me, as an instructor, or lack thereof to a colleague in the temporary cadre, 20 years my junior, recruited having graduated recently, guffawed snidely. Thus, the notion of agency is a concept necessarily denied to those in our category. On occasion, we were treated with extreme violence and derision at august fora such as the faculty boards.

On one instance a colleague complained to me of a colleague of a different category, throwing her out of a classroom and then gesturing towards her attire, and asking if she was indeed a teacher. Many of our rights, and freedoms are circumscribed and the situation it appears will not improve anytime soon. A case in point is the finger scanner attendance system.

Recently, a now discredited academic turned politician who was removed and subsequently reinstated into a certain state committee added to our burdens and we now mark our attendance through the finger scanner system. This is something which has given rise to many disparities within and across the system. His main concern was that there was no proof of the services we had provided, so we now mark attendance which in no way provides evidence about the volume and extent of the work we do. Now, we have a work load and a work day we are constrained in multiple ways. When we ask about how exactly it is implemented, we are not given straightforward answers. A senior colleague asked if our work day was 8.00 am to 4.00 pm, the official to whom the question was posed glibly answered, “I didn’t say that.”

This has given rise to the question of job descriptions and role definitions. According to certain officials, we have not been defined as being teachers. Only lecturers are considered academics and they are exempt from marking attendance as it goes against “tradition.” The most glaring injustice is that our workload and work norms match those of the academic cadre, we have the same qualifications from the same places but not only is our pay lower but the demands made are unjust in the extreme. For an instance, we do not receive research allowances of the sort academics receive but certain ELTDs insist on research.

During intensive courses instructors are forced to work longer hours, on occasion starting sessions at 8.00am and going on until 4.00pm. We are seen largely as beasts of burden. An instance of when we face additional unfairness is when services are commandeered for editing content in (not copy editing/proofreading) research articles and abstracts when the actual appointed the editors according to the publication are others. Those whose duty it is to perform this function send stringent guidelines about editing the research articles and palm off their duties on the English instructors. They receive a commendation and have their names mentioned in the volume as editors. The instructors only receive a letter of acknowledgement of the service performed.

Many Units have now been upgraded to departments so now we have ELTDs and not ELTUs. Thus, there are lecturers in the equation and the differences and inequalities are manifold and magnified at close quarters. The appointed paper setter is an academic but the paper comes to be set by an instructor. In one faculty of the University of Peradeniya, payment vouchers do not mention the academic support category at all.

To add to these injustices on occasion we are left out of certain other benefits of being in the university system, such as the vaccination scheme for university staff.

The webpage of the ELTD of the University of Peradeniya mentions no less person than Theodoric de Souza as its founding Head albeit of the sub department. Who was he? A well-known figure in Bolshevik/Marxian (quaint term found in early articles) trade union action among many other things. Interestingly, the author had a very close call, with the term Bolshevik being included in a reading text as it was a term that Arts Faculty students are “apparently” not aware of. Would “Doric” turn in his grave at this turn of events? Would he be appalled at the way we are being treated. He apparently had keen sense of fair-play and justice according to Jeanette Cabraal, (13th March 2014: Daily Mirror).

Even women academics, aware of feminist ideals and values will on occasion behave in a way which prompts one to question if they indeed practice what they preach. Some of us have Stockholm syndrome we side with our abusers because they have complete control over us and they say this is the best thing for you. This is seen also in a comment made by a senior academic about their relations with the ELTD of their own university at a workshop in the author’s hearing. “Oh! now they have achieved academic status we leave them to their own mad devices. In our opinion they are mad and when they don’t agree with our viewpoint, we drag them by their hair in the direction we want them to go.” This comment was made in 2014.

What if you protest, then you become an upstart and a misfit, your own see you as a scapegoat and blame everything they cannot change about their own situation on that unworthy individual and try their best to oust the person out of the system. They project certain personal traits on that person which are seen as unacceptable and run the individual out with abusive behaviour.

If an institution is truly committed to improving the learning and teaching of English, we need to be aware of these aspects of our profession. So, where to Instructors of English?



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Opinion

IMF’s failure to tackle corruption in Sri Lanka

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Anti-corruption and governance reforms are central pillars of Sri Lanka’s $2.9 billion bailout agreement with the International Monetary Fund (IMF). This was the first time in Asia that an IMF programme was explicitly linked to a comprehensive anti-corruption diagnostic and specific legislative measures.

At the press conference announcing the deal, Senior Mission Chief Peter Breuer said that the IMF had emphasised that anti-corruption and governance reforms are central pillars of the programme. He added that the IMF would subject Sri Lanka to a comprehensive governance diagnostic exercise, making it the first Asian economy to undergo such an exercise, which will assess corruption and governance vulnerabilities in Sri Lanka and provide prioritised and sequenced recommendations. “Sri Lanka will be the first country in Asia to undergo a governance diagnostic exercise by the IMF. We look forward to further engagement and collaboration with stakeholders and civil society organisations on this critical reform area,” the IMF official said.

An extract from the Technical Assistance Report on Governance Diagnostic Assessment, Sri Lanka  (September 30, 2023) is as follows; “The report highlights immediate and short-term measures to address key corruption issues, as well as structural reforms that require more time and resources but are essential to strengthen governance and initiate lasting change. The recommendations are designed as a coherent approach to improving governance through a focus on: clarity of authority and responsibility for core functions; financial and operational independence of essential accountability and law enforcement institutions; transparency in government practices and performance, especially relating to the planning, spending, and accounting for the use of public funds and assets; inclusive, accessible, and rule-based means to enforce private agreements and challenge official behaviour; and efficient mechanisms for making information public and holding organisations and individuals to account for their performance and behaviour”.

Further, the agreement required Sri Lanka to implement several specific, actionable measures to curb corruption vulnerabilities:

New Anti-Corruption Legislation: The government passed the landmark Anti-Corruption Act in 2023, which expanded the powers of the Commission to Investigate Allegations of Bribery or Corruption (CIABOC), required electoral candidates and officials to declare their assets, and introduced protections for whistleblowers.

Fiscal and Procurement Reforms: The IMF programme included commitments to improve public financial management, increase tax transparency, and advance public procurement laws to eliminate political interference and cronyism in government contracts.

The IMF Executive Board is supposed to continuously track these anti-corruption and governance benchmarks during its periodic programme reviews to ensure compliance. The IMF officials’ last visit to Sri Lanka was from March 26th to April 9th when they reviewed the progress of the programme, decided that it was going well and approved the release of the final tranche. Their statement did not carry any reference to the activities of the government regarding control of corruption.

The Letter of Intent submitted by the government at the conclusion of the review becomes relevant under these circumstances. It was officially released on May 29, 2026. One of the critical undertakings by the government, according to the Letter of Intent, relates to cost-recovery pricing, the government has reaffirmed its commitment to maintaining cost-recovery pricing for fuel and electricity.

Going by available communications, apparently the IMF has not inquired into what caused the increase of cost of production of electricity. Cost of electricity production has gone up due to increased use of diesel, as low quality coal is not producing the required amounts. The coal that has been recently imported has been found to be of low quality and the government has said the losses due to this misadventure will not be shifted to the people. The irregularities in the coal procurement process that has happened recently is no secret, the Auditor General’s report has pointed out the flaws in the said procedure. Ironically, the IMF programme highlights the need to have fool proof procurement and tender procedures, and emphasises “holding organisations and individuals to account for their performance and behaviour” as the above quoted Technical Assistance Report mentions, yet it is silent on this matter showing its lack of responsibility. And it wants cost-recovery pricing for electricity! This may be taken as proof that the IMF is not very much concerned about the plight of the poor.

Further, these policies and recommendations of the IMF may substantiate the accusations made by left oriented organisations that the IMF insists on austerity measures, often at the expense of welfare expenditure, in order to serve neoliberalism. The clauses on corruption control in its agreement with the government appear to be mere lip service and window dressing. If no follow-up action is taken on these requirements, such clauses have no meaning and serve no useful purpose. If it is a responsible organisation, the IMF should have called for an impartial inquiry into the coal procurement procedure, for it is mandated to ensure transparency and integrity in these procedures. Moreover, if it is concerned about the welfare of the public it should not have asked for cost-recovery pricing of electricity when the reason for the increased cost could be corruption. Instead of going into the matter of corruption the IMF asks the government to recover the losses from the people. Cannot it think of a fairer means of recovering these losses instead of burdening the already impoverished people?

Thus, the question arises whether the IMF is a tool of imperialism. Many critics, particularly in the Global South, argue that the IMF functions as an instrument of financial imperialism or neo-colonialism. Structural Adjustment Programmes of the IMF ties its emergency loans to strict conditions like austerity, privatisation, and deregulation. Critics argue these demands dismantle local welfare systems, strip developing nations of their sovereignty, and open their markets to exploitation by multinational corporations. Further, the wealthy nations, particularly the United States and European powers, hold the majority of voting shares and effectively control the institution, dictating economic policy to weaker states. Critics claim that IMF-mandated currency devaluations artificially lower the cost of raw materials and natural resources in developing countries, benefiting wealthy creditor nations which amount to resource extraction.

Another matter of concern is that the interest rate for IMF loans to Sri Lanka, contrary to common belief that it is concessionary, is 5% which is pretty high and may be unbearable to a poor country like Sri Lanka. The country was in a woeful state in 2022 and was forced to declare bankruptcy, and seek IMF assistance. If we seriously examine the cause of this economic disaster, we will see that it was due to the economic policies the country had been following since independence. We import more than we export and take loans to meet the shortfall. This practice has gone on and on and is continued at present. No government, including the present one, despite its left leaning claims, had attempted to correct this colossal mistake. Our debt burden is frightening, less said about it the better.

The obvious solution to this problem would have been to achieve self-sufficiency in our essential needs, like food, and reduce reliance on imports. Most of our needs in food and other essentials could be locally produced. The IMF may not recommend such a course of action. It would want us to remain a poor country, struggling in the vicious cycle of import-export-debt quagmire.

by N. A. de S. Amaratunga

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Opinion

When the decisive vote changes hands: Sri Lanka’s next electoral shift may already be underway

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In the summer of 1789, as the French Revolution gathered momentum, delegates of the National Assembly assembled in Versailles to debate the future of France. The seating arrangement inside the chamber was not planned to shape political vocabulary for centuries to come. Yet it did. Those who favoured sweeping political change, greater equality, and the dismantling of inherited privilege gravitated to the left side of the hall. Those who defended the monarchy, established institutions, and traditional social hierarchies took their seats on the right. What began as a matter of convenience soon became a political metaphor. More than two centuries later, we still speak of the “left” and the “right” to describe competing visions of society.

Since then, the terms have evolved and acquired different meanings across countries and historical periods. Yet, the broad distinction remains remarkably durable. Ideologies associated with the left generally place greater emphasis on social, political, and economic equality, often advocating a more active role for the state in addressing disparities and expanding collective welfare. Ideologies associated with the right tend to place greater value on tradition, market mechanisms, authority, and various forms of social hierarchy, arguing that stability and prosperity emerge from preserving established institutions and incentives. Most political movements, of course, occupy positions somewhere between these poles, combining elements of both traditions in different proportions.

Few elections have altered the course of Sri Lankan politics as dramatically as the general election of 1977. Sweeping to power with an unprecedented five-sixths majority in Parliament, the United National Party ushered in a new political and economic era under the leadership of J. R. Jayewardene. He would later become the country’s first Executive President under a constitutional framework that vested extensive powers in the office. The changes that followed reflected a decisive move towards market-oriented reforms and a political outlook that leaned more to the right than anything Sri Lanka had previously experienced.

Yet even a political machine as formidable as the UNP’s could not hold power indefinitely. After nearly seventeen years of dominance, its grip on the electorate weakened. In 1994, the pendulum swung once again, bringing Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga. The victory was widely interpreted as a return to a more socially conscious and centre-left political vision.

What followed was not merely a change of government but the emergence of a recurring pattern in Sri Lankan political landscape. Since 1994, governments of varying compositions and personalities have risen to power with crucial support from parties and constituencies positioned on the left of the political spectrum. Whether through formal coalitions, strategic alliances, or ideological influence, the left has often provided the decisive electoral weight needed to secure victory. In many cases, without that support, the arithmetic of power would have looked very different.

Yet it is equally important to recognise what Sri Lanka has not become. Despite the enduring influence of left-wing thought, the country has never embraced an uncompromising far-left political project. Instead, successive governments have largely occupied a centre-left space, balancing market economics with welfare commitments, nationalism with social reform, and political pragmatism with egalitarian aspirations. The result has been a political landscape where power changes hands, parties rise and fall, and personalities dominate headlines, but the centre of gravity remains remarkably leftist. Sri Lanka’s electorate has repeatedly rewarded those who speak the language of social justice, even while stopping short of endorsing political extremes.

One possible explanation for this enduring centre-left tendency lies not in political parties themselves, but in the cultural formation of the electorate. For much of the period between the 1960s and the liberalisation of the economy in 1977–78, Russian literature occupied a prominent place in Sri Lanka’s reading culture. Affordable translations of the works of writers such as Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Gorky, Chekhov and Pushkin circulated widely among students, teachers and ordinary readers. Alongside their literary value, these works exposed generations of Sri Lankans to questions of social justice, class inequality, collective responsibility and the moral obligations of society toward the vulnerable.

By the early 1990s, the generation that had grown up reading this literature had come of age politically. As they entered the electorate in larger numbers, they helped shape the contours of public opinion. Their voting preferences did not necessarily favour revolutionary socialism or radical left-wing politics. Rather, they appeared to support governments that combined commitments to welfare, social protection and egalitarian ideals with the practical realities of governing a developing nation. In this sense, the centre-left orientation that has characterised much of Sri Lanka’s political landscape since 1994 may owe as much to the country’s literary and intellectual culture as to the strategies of political parties themselves.

Yet there is an apparent paradox at the heart of this story. While successive governments often drew legitimacy from centre-left political ideals, their economic policies frequently moved in a different direction. Confronted by fiscal constraints, global economic pressures and shifting geopolitical realities, they operated within an international economic order largely shaped by market-oriented principles. Institutions such as the International Monetary Fund exerted considerable influence over economic policymaking, encouraging reforms associated more closely with liberalisation, fiscal discipline and market efficiency than with traditional left-wing economics.

It was thus a balancing act that defined Sri Lankan governance for decades after 1994: governments elected on promises of social justice and collective welfare, yet compelled to pursue economic strategies shaped by the imperatives of a global market economy. Politically, the country remained centre-left. Economically, it often travelled along a more market-oriented path.

Sri Lanka may have settled its political direction for the next few years, but the next truly decisive moment may arrive closer to 2030. By then, the composition of the electorate will have changed once again. A growing share of voters will belong to Generation Z and Generation Alpha, generations whose intellectual and cultural worlds differ markedly from those that came before them.

If the electorate that emerged in the 1990s was shaped, in part, by the values encountered in Russian literature and a reading culture that emphasised questions of social responsibility, collective welfare and inequality, the generations now entering political maturity have been formed by a different landscape altogether. Their influences are increasingly digital, global and instantaneous, are shaped more by algorithms and by social media feeds, content creators and transnational cultural currents. Many have grown up in a world where entrepreneurship, individual success, innovation and market-driven solutions occupy a far more visible place in public discourse.

This generational shift is unfolding alongside broader transformations in global politics. Across much of the world, including major powers such as the United Kingdom and the United States, contemporary political movements that emphasise markets, national interests, economic competitiveness, and stronger state authority have gained momentum. Whether these trends will find a lasting echo in Sri Lanka remains a question that deserves careful attention, not merely as an electoral matter, but as one intertwined with some of the defining challenges of our time.

Today, concerns of national sovereignty, security, strategic influence and even soft power are increasingly mediated through economic strength and market performance. Nations are judged not only by their political ideals but also by their ability to compete, innovate and secure their place within an interconnected global economy. Sri Lanka, still navigating the aftermath of economic crisis and charting its future development path, finds itself at the centre of these debates.

Against this backdrop, if the decisive vote is gradually passing from a generation shaped by the books that once filled the nation’s shelves to one shaped by the screens that now fill its hands, the question therefore does not simply become who will win the next election. It is whether the intellectual and cultural influences that shaped Sri Lanka’s centre-left political consensus can retain their hold on a new electorate formed by different experiences, different technologies, and different aspirations.

If every era is ultimately defined by the stories it tells itself, what story is the next generation of Sri Lankan voters already beginning to write? Will it move the centre of gravity towards a more market-oriented, centre-right vision? The answer may well determine not only the outcome of future elections, but the ideological direction of Sri Lanka itself.

By Viran Maddumage PhD (Reading), Macquarie University,
and Sanduni Rathnayake, AAL

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Opinion

For attention of Education Minister

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Reimagining Sri Lanka’s Old Boys’ Unions into Lifelong Alumni Ecosystems A National Call for Ethical Citizenship, Educational Transformation and Social Renewal

For more than a century, Sri Lanka’s schools and colleges have produced generations of citizens who contributed immensely to the nation’s administration, education, medicine, engineering, law, agriculture, business, military service, arts, and leadership. Alongside these institutions emerged Old Boys’ Unions and alumni associations that represented far more than ceremonial organisations. They symbolised loyalty, institutional pride, brotherhood, continuity, and shared values that transcended generations. In many ways, these alumni associations became the emotional and moral extension of school life itself.

However, Sri Lanka now stands at a crossroads. While annual dinners, jubilees, and big matches continue to preserve nostalgia and tradition, many alumni organisations are increasingly struggling to remain relevant to younger generations. The modern world has changed rapidly, yet many alumni systems have remained largely unchanged. Today’s youth face digital disruption, migration pressures, economic uncertainty, social fragmentation, mental stress, and intense competition. As a result, younger alumni increasingly seek practical value from institutional networks through mentorship, career guidance, entrepreneurship support, emotional wellbeing systems, digital networking, and lifelong learning opportunities. Unfortunately, many traditional alumni associations continue functioning mainly as event-driven organisations rather than dynamic ecosystems capable of supporting individuals throughout life.

Globally, leading educational institutions in countries such as Singapore, the United States, the United Kingdom, Australia, Japan, and India have transformed their alumni organisations into sophisticated lifelong engagement ecosystems. These institutions maintain integrated digital platforms that support graduates from the moment they leave school until retirement and beyond. Their alumni systems provide mentorship, startup incubation, executive education, mental health assistance, professional networking, welfare support, diaspora engagement, retirement communities, and AI-driven alumni management systems. These modern ecosystems have evolved into strategic human capital development platforms that strengthen institutions, economies, and societies.

Sri Lanka possesses one of the strongest school identity cultures in Asia. The emotional attachment Sri Lankans maintain toward their alma mater remains exceptionally powerful even decades after leaving school. This cultural strength presents a historic national opportunity. If properly restructured, professionally governed, digitally transformed, and strategically managed, Sri Lankan alumni associations could become one of the country’s strongest long-term mechanisms for shaping ethical citizenship, reducing corruption, strengthening social cohesion, and nurturing morally grounded future generations.

One of the major weaknesses in modern society is that moral guidance and ethical accountability often decline sharply after formal schooling ends. During school life, students operate within structured environments shaped by discipline, institutional culture, accountability, and values. Yet, once individuals leave school, many gradually disconnect from those value systems and become increasingly exposed to political manipulation, unethical business cultures, social isolation, corruption, and declining civic responsibility. The absence of long-term moral ecosystems contributes significantly to the erosion of social ethics within society.

This is where modern Alumni Ecosystems can play a transformative role. A properly functioning alumni system should not merely preserve memories of the past. It should reinforce ethical citizenship and moral accountability throughout adulthood. Alumni communities can continuously remind individuals where they came from, what values shaped them, and what responsibilities they carry toward society. Such ecosystems can cultivate leadership ethics, civic consciousness, professional integrity, and social responsibility across generations. In this context, alumni associations become not merely educational bodies, but important instruments of national governance and social development.

A well-managed alumni ecosystem can therefore contribute meaningfully toward building a corruption-free society. Ethical peer influence, mentorship from respected senior alumni, intergenerational accountability, and strong institutional identity can discourage unethical behaviour and reinforce integrity in professional and public life. Sri Lanka should envision a future where every student entering adulthood remains connected to a structured lifelong support network. School leavers could receive career guidance and mentorship, entrepreneurs could access ethical business networks and investment opportunities, migrant professionals could reconnect globally through alumni platforms, and retired alumni could continue contributing through mentoring and community service. Elderly alumni could receive welfare support, companionship, and dignity during the later stages of life.

Another important concept is the “1950 Generation Acid Test” for alumni organisations. The true strength of an alumni association should not be measured merely by the number of events conducted or sponsorships obtained. Instead, institutions must ask how many of their oldest surviving alumni — particularly those born around 1950 or earlier — remain actively connected, respected, cared for, and meaningfully engaged by the institution. The demographic profile, wellbeing, engagement, and continued institutional connectivity of the oldest surviving members should be recognized as one of the most important indicators of the true strength, ethical legitimacy, and long-term sustainability of any alumni ecosystem.

Sri Lanka now urgently requires a National Alumni Transformation Framework under the Ministry of Education. Such a framework should modernise alumni constitutions, establish professional alumni offices, digitise databases, introduce transparent governance standards, integrate youth representation, strengthen diaspora engagement, establish welfare and wellness units, and create lifelong mentorship ecosystems. A structured tripartite partnership involving the College Alumni Association, the Principal of the respective college, and the Provincial Education Authorities could become a transformative governance mechanism to ensure continuity, accountability, intergenerational engagement, and value-based citizenship development.

Sri Lanka’s long-term transformation will not be achieved through infrastructure development alone. It will be achieved through people — and people are shaped not only during schooling, but through the lifelong communities they remain connected to afterward. The next decade may therefore determine whether Sri Lanka’s Old Boys’ Unions gradually decline into ceremonial nostalgia-driven organisations or evolve into intelligent, intergenerational Alumni Ecosystems capable of shaping ethical citizenship, corruption-free leadership cultures, and national transformation itself.

by Dammike Kobbekaduwe
FIPM (SL), Member-CIPM (SL), MBA (HRM)Founder Director of the Proprietary Planters Alliance (Pvt) Ltd

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