Features
Investment and accelerated progress during crises?
Women in Sri Lankan State Universities
An adapted version of the keynote delivered
BY Dinesha Samararatne
the International Women’s Day celebration organised by the Centre for Gender Equity and
Equality for the University Grants Commission, 15 March, 2024.
Around 13 March, it was reported that six undergraduates had been selected from Sri Lanka to climb Mount Everest or Sagarmatha as it is known by the Nepali. This news reminded me that for many who are privileged to be admitted to study at our state universities, their own journey as undergraduates is as significant and phenomenal as climbing Mount Everest. The scenes at the Orientation day for freshers and on graduation day beautifully captures the egalitarian miracle that we collectively pull off through this unique and powerful commitment to offering higher education at the tax payers cost, for those selected on merit.
Without taking away anything from that that big picture and long-term perspective, I also want to handpick a few stories of women I have met thus far in my own career as an academic. I will use these stories as a backdrop for my talk today. I have annoymised these stories to protect their privacy.
Story 1
Before Geetha entered the university she became pregnant. Her boyfriend’s mother took her to the village quack, who aborted her foetus. Geetha suffered physically and psychologically for several months and missed the first several months of her first-year lectures. At the end of that academic year, she opened up to one of her lecturers by sheer coincidence. Ad hoc support was made available to her and she eventually regained her self-confidence and motivation to pursue her degree to completion.
Story 2
Sarala was born visually impaired. She grew up in a village which was affected by Sri Lanka’s internal armed conflict throughout to 2009. She was wounded by shell attacks and cannot use her left leg. She has shrapnel in her body including in her right hand. In the post-war period, she gained admission to read for a Bachelor of Arts degree at a university in the south of Sri Lanka. Placed in a location new to her in terms of culture, language and way of life, living in an environment that rarely accommodates the needs of persons with disabilities, Sarala persevered and graduated. Today, she is back home, unable to find suitable employment and offering tuition to children in her area as a way of supporting herself.
Story 3
Rani is a second year undergraduate and a mother of a 7 months old baby. Her partner and extended family are supporting her in every way to pursue her studies to completion. Rani struggles with guilt – guilt about leaving her baby at home as well as guilt about missing out on her studies. She travels 2 hours one way daily and is struggling to deal with the daily harassment she experiences in public transport and the exhaustion she feels.
Story 4
Savitri graduated as an engineer. She completed her postgraduate studies and returned to Sri Lanka, determined to serve at a state university. Despite the growing workload, the lack of funding for research, the weak research culture, petty politics and unkindness – she kept trying to remain enthusiastic and motivated. Eventually, it was too much to bear, and she accepted an academic position overseas. She used to often say that navigating the challenges of being an academic, and being a single woman, was, at times, very painful.
Story 5
Jayani is in her seventies and is a janitor at a state university. She cleans office spaces, classrooms, toilets and dustbins daily – with her bare hands and almost always, without footwear. Her job is precarious as a contract worker. Recently, she met with an accident on her way back home after work. Her injuries are severe.
Story 6
Jeya had a successful career as an academic, retiring with high level recognition for the contribution she made to her field of study. While Jeya is deeply satisfied with her career, she recalls with sadness and anger the regular sexual harassment that she experienced at a particular stage in her career. As a senior academic, she stepped in to support other women who faced similar situations but she recalls that when she experienced it herself as a younger academic, she did not complain about it because she did not have confidence that she would be given a fair hearing.
These are individual stories that I have come across, but I know that if I were to ask you, many of you would say that there is a familiar ring to these life experiences. We or someone we know of, has had similar experiences. I invite you to keep these stories in mind, as I try to unpack what the global theme for the international for Women’s day 2024, would mean to us, in the context of higher education in Sri Lanka.
Let me begin by explaining the meanings I attach to the key words in this title. Since the introduction of an open economy in the late 70s, in Sri Lanka, the term ‘investment’ has mostly been associated with foreign direct investment for economic development. Such economic development was assumed to lead to progress. But when we look at our history, both within our political borders and more broadly in the South Asian region – we are reminded that the notion of investment has had different meanings and traditions associated with it. Consider the following examples:
We know of the historical practice of declaring demarcated land as a haven or අභය nature and wildlife.
Our South Asian neighbour Bhutan has made a constitutional commitment to maintain 60% of its land under forest cover.
In the 1930s and 40s, Ceylon committed to provide universal access to health care and education at the expense of the taxpayer. Education was offered in this way, to prepare the people of Ceylon for citizenship in a democratic society.
The factors that motivated these types of ‘investment’ represent a broader – and dare I say more sustainable – vision of society, that goes beyond the limited and foreign investment focused approach to ‘investment.’ It is a vision which presents human life and nature as holding intrinsic worth. We respect and protect wildlife and nature because we respect and value all forms of life. When a sanctuary (අභය භුමිය/ ) was established, it was driven by the motive to respect life, not to gain anything in return. Such decisions and choices therefore reflect a capacity to act selflessly, out of respect for the other and on the basis of a common and inclusive vision of our wellbeing. The decision to provide health care, free for everyone through the public purse is emblematic of a vision of society in which we recognise basic human needs and in which we recognise a collective responsibility to meet those needs.
Investment then, can be a choice we make without thinking about immediate material returns, a choice we make thinking about the most vulnerable in society and a choice we make thinking about the long-term, or as Justice ARB Amerasinghe said in the well-known Eppalwala judgement, a choice we make taking note of ‘inter-generational equity’ (Bulankulama v Secretary, Ministry of Industrial Development and Others [2000] 3 Sri LR 243). The policies for free education and health reflect this type of a bold and transformative vision of investment for the people of Sri Lanka, including for women – the group that is the focus of this talk. The reality is falling short of the vision, but more on that in a bit.
If we approach the notion of investment in this way, how should we think about ‘accelerated progress?’ To me, the phrase ‘accelerated progress’ suggests an urgency and a need to attend to something that has been neglected and which is long overdue. How do we relate this phrase to our context?
Much has been and is being said about economic stability and economic growth in Sri Lanka – if you look at the fringes of these public debates you may notice efforts to de-centre number crunching and to centre human dignity and human rights as the basis for the debate. Extreme examples of the need for such a re-centering process include reports of patients dying due to maladministration of a drug, a parent committing suicide after killing his or her children or of growing malnutrition in Sri Lanka.
(To be continued )