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Ministry of Lands, Irrigation, and Power

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Rare photo of CP de Silva and DS Senanayake shot by Dudley Senanayake. Standing left to right C.P. de Silva, Robert Senanayake and Clive De Silva. SeatedIvorPalipana and D.S. Senanayake.

by Leelananda De Silva

I was nearing the end of my three years in Kurunegala when I received a telephone call from M. Sri Kantha, Permanent Secretary of the Ministry of Lands, Irrigation and Power. He said that he would like me to come to his Ministry as Assistant Secretary with immediate effect. I had known Sri Kantha from my Jaffna days and this is how things happen.

From September 1967 to September 1969 I spent two productive years at the Ministry of Lands Irrigation and Power. Sri Kantha told me that I would have a few not very heavy tasks at the core of my assignment and in addition I would be doing odd jobs that arise from time to time. My core tasks were to oversee the Forest Department, Gal oya Development Board, the State Plantations Corporation, keep an eye on the new colonization scheme in the North, Muthuiyyan kaddukulam, and Parliamentary matters relating to the Ministry. As time went on, I did many other things.

The Minister, C.P de Silva was a former civil servant with an intimate knowledge of the subjects of his Ministry. He was an expert in irrigation and land development. He knew the senior officials of his Ministry intimately. For us junior officers he was a remote figure, although I had a lot to do with him.He had entered politics as a member of the Sri Lanka Freedom Party, and was one of its leading figures in the 1950s and early 1960s. Now after having crossed over from the SLFP, although he had a powerful and wide ranging Ministry in the UNP Government, he was never again the commanding politician that he once was. His parliamentary secretary (now called deputy minister) was Captain C.P.J. Senewiratne, MP for Mahiyangana. The Minister had nothing to do with him.

The Permanent Secretary told me to keep in touch with him. He was rarely in his office and he had no work in the Ministry. Once he told me that the Minister might be very important in this Ministry, but that he was more important in the party and in Parliament, having been an old UNPer, unlike the Minister.On another occasion he told me to contact the Conservator of Forests and arrange for some forest land in Mahiyangana to be released for development. He said the problem in Mahiyangana was too much forests, and too little land for people to live and I think he had a point. At that time, two thirds of Sri Lanka were forests.

M. Sri Kantha was a fine man. He was reaching the end of his career. A devout Hindu, he spent a considerable time in religious activities. He had been GA Jaffna for a long spell, and he missed Jaffna. He was the ideal foil for a mercurial Minister like C.P de Silva. I used to give Sri Kantha a lift at lunch time in my car to his residence on Norris Canal Road. Sometimes this created a problem for me, as he got held up at meetings.I remember one day that he alerted me, while going in the car, to the perils of sex in middle age. He told me that men in their late 40s and 50s should be very careful in their relations with the opposite sex. All this arose from the news of a current scandal in the Administrative Service where a very senior officer had run away with a very junior female administrator.

The man who managed the Ministry was T. Sivagnanam, Senior Assistant Secretary. He was a reclusive figure and it took a little time for me to establish friendly relations with him. Once that happened he was a warm and kind personality. He knew more about irrigation than most irrigation engineers. I worked with him closely on many issues. The Minister depended heavily on him. Later, under the UNP government after 1977, Sivagnanam distinguished himself in organizing and managing the massive Mahaweli scheme. For the sake of his children and at the end of his career he sought a posting in Washington. He was to die there a few years later. I learnt a lot from Sivagnanam. It is a great pity that this kind of public servant, who served the country without fanfare, is now forgotten.

There were other interesting personalities in the Ministry. P.U. Ratnatunga, who had been Surveyor General, came to the Ministry as Additional Secretary. This was one of the early high level appointments of technical personnel to Ministries. He was a friend and contemporary of the minister at university and a fellow mathematician.At this time the Minister, C.P. was obsessed with the LSSP which he detested (C.P. had left the SLFP in 1964 as he did not fancy working with the LSSP in the new coalition). Ratnatunga reflected to some extent this aversion of the Minister, and I remember this due to an incident which occurred relating to the appointment of an assistant secretary.

I shared a room in the old secretariat with A.G.F (Francis) Perera, an assistant secretary who had come up from the clerical service. He had been the head of the powerful Treasury “G” branch which dealt with the all-island clerical service. His great hero was Shirley Amarasinghe, his old boss at the Treasury, and Francis imitated his manners and his style. He in fact looked a bit like Shirley. We became close friends as time went on.Another person who became a friend was B.H. Hemapriya, the Press Officer. He was close to the Minister and traveled with him all over the island. He was genuinely interested in the work he did and he had great knowledge of Sri Lanka’s history, specially of its irrigation works. He worked hard to get the media interested in the issues that mattered to the Ministry.

Those days the job of a Press Officer was highly professional and Hemapriya aimed at projecting the Ministry and not the Minister. The Minister was pleased with this strategy. Hemapriya was a great friend and an honest and hard working public servant. They did not make money, and his retirement years were not easy.It is through Hemapriya that I met Manik de Silva, who was to be one of my closest friends and one of the great journalists of our time. In 1967 Manik was a young Observer reporter, covering the Ministry of Lands and constantly looking for stories. He used to come and see Hemapriya who introduced him to me.

Manik is a son of Walwin A. de Silva, a distinguished civil servant, and later politician and vice chancellor. Manik made one journalistic scoop through some information I gave him. At this time in 1968 we were living down Model Farm Road in an annexe belonging to V.C. de Silva, former Director of Public Works. We were friendly with him and his family.One day V.C told me that he had just seen the Prime Minister, Dudley Senanayake along with L.B de Silva (former Supreme Court Judge) and H.C. Gunawardane (former Permanent Secretary) and that they have been appointed as the new Salaries Commission. V.C. did not tell me to treat it as confidential news.

Those days the news of the appointment of a Salaries Commission was of enormous significance. The Press had not heard about it. So when Manik came along to see me in the Ministry I told him the news, and he had a scoop, the Observer carrying it with a banner headline. Since that time, We have kept in touch with Manik and his partner Diana Captain (of whom I shall say more later) and they have been our close friends.Manik must count as one of the great Sri Lankan editors of all time, having had a journalistic career of nearly 60 years. We are also friends with Manik’s sister, Nela, who lives in England. Her son, Ganesh Sittampalam, a mathematics prodigy, is in the Guiness Book for being the youngest mathematics graduate in the last century.One of the tasks that I found most interesting in the Ministry was one that was assigned to me by the Minister. The Committee Stage of the Budget Debate in 1968 had an extensive discussion on the Votes of the Ministry of Lands. About 40 MPs intervened, raising a large number of issues, which filled one whole Hansard.

The Minister was anxious to impress on MPs that he was open to their suggestions and criticisms. He asked me to go through the Hansard and follow up each and every issue that has been raised by an MP and to let him know what his response should be to the MP concerned. He wanted me to prepare letters to MPs which he would sign.

This was not as simple a task as I thought it would be. I took about three months to handle all these matters. Apart from consulting with the MP, I had to follow them up with the departments and officials concerned and many of them were located in the districts. Many of the observations made by MPs related to two departments – Land Commissioner’s and the Irrigation Department. The whole exercise was very rewarding as I saw at first hand the interaction between the politician and the public servant.Apart from that, one learnt about the policy implications that arise from individual cases.A fascinating task that came my way was to assist Sivagnanam in the negotiations with the Asian Development Bank (ADB) on the Udawalawe project. The ADB was prepared to finance the project and sent two missions, one to do its technical feasibility and then later to negotiate financial assistance.

The technical feasibility mission was carried out by Huntings, a UK based consultancy firm. I looked after that mission from the Ministry. One of the members of that mission was R.W (Dick) Kettlewell, an agriculturalist, with long experience in the British African colonies. In the days prior to independence of Malawi, he had been Minister of Agriculture there. He had also been in Ceylon during the war.

During his visit to Ceylon and after, he became a great friend of ours. We are now friends with his son Michael, a leading Oxford surgeon, and his wife Sarah, whose brother is the Darwinian scholar, Richard Dawkins. Richard and Sarah’s mother, Jean Dawkins was born at Matara in Ceylon during the First World War and she is now nearly 100. They live in Chipping Norton near Oxford in their sprawling four hundred acre farm.

The mission that came from the ADB to negotiate financial assistance was headed by a German called Tacke. Sivagnanam wanted me to do the cost benefit analysis (CBA) of this project with him. That gave me important insights not only to cost benefit analysis but also to the ways in which these large multilateral financial institutions work. We prepared several alternatives of possible CBAs for the project, some more optimistic than others. One could increase the benefits accruing from the project by having an optimistic view of the yields from paddy, and minimizing risks.

There were all kinds of ways in which one could dabble with the levels of costs and benefits. The ADB was anxious to lend the money, and so they were inclined to maximize the potential benefits and lower the risks of failure. The Ministry wanted the money and we were happy to seem more optimistic than we actually were.The ADB had their own views of project management. As financier, they were anxious for an efficient system of management. The Minister had a more political perspective, and was inclined to have his own views on management. The administrators in the Ministry agreed more with the ADB than with the Minister, and used ADB to get their own way with the Minister.

One other assignment of mine was the Committee established by the Prime Minister to inquire into and report on the future of the Gal Oya Development Board (GODB). The GODB had outlived its usefulness, but it was difficult to get rid of it as, after 20 years of life, there were vested interests. The Prime Minister appointed John Arthur Amaratunga, Deputy Minister of Planning to be the sole member of the Committee.The Permanent Secretary of the Ministry appointed me as the Secretary of the Committee. In appointing this Committee, the Prime Minister did not consult the Minster. The Minister’s relations with the Prime Minister were semi-detached, and there were tensions in the relationship. The Planning Ministry was critical of the Lands Ministry in several respects and the Prime Minister was the Planning Minister.

Sri Kantha, in appointing me as Secretary told me that I do not have to keep them informed of what is going on, as neither he nor the Minister were interested in the subject. The Committee held a few meetings and I wrote the report with the guidance of Arthur Amaratunga. The overall recommendation was to wind up the Gal Oya Board. It was a delight to work with Amaratunga. We did most of our work at his home on Gregory’s Road, over cups of tea for me and a little stronger brew for him. We were to later become family friends with the Amaratungas.

My work on this Committee brought me into contact with the Prime Minister Dudley Senanayake on two or three occasions. On one of these occasions, I remember seeing Gamani Corea who was Permanent Secretary, Planning. He made a presentation to the Prime Minister about cultivation of paddy, quoting FAO reports. At the end of it, the Prime Minister asked Gamani whether he had ever stepped into a paddy field. The Prime Minister obviously knew more about paddy cultivation than the FAO experts.

When I reflect on my days with the Ministry of Lands over a period of 10 years, it strikes me that technical, in contrast to administrative, personnel, were the most important people in the Ministry, at all levels. The irrigation and electrical engineers, and the surveys people and technical assistants, were the ones who were at the frontline of development activities of the Ministry. They were the people who opened up the dry zone and built the dams and the canals to irrigate the land.

They have not received their due share of recognition for the contribution they made. In my work during these 10 years I had a close working relationship with these technical personnel at all levels in remote comers of Sri Lanka. Going on circuit in the districts, I have stayed with these people in their homes in remote areas, many of them located close to irrigation tanks, and there was a great sense of comradeship. It is difficult to mention all their names, but the memory of a romantic dry zone remains with me. I loved working in the dry zone at a time when these places were still remote.

During my years at the Lands Ministry, I was involved with the Ceylon Administrative Service Association (CASA). In 1968. they appointed me as one if its joint secretaries, along with Ranjith Withana. I held this post only for one year as I was leaving for the UK. The President of CASA was D. Rajendra, who was then the Commissioner of National Housing. Rajendra was an engaging personality and was the son of Sir Waityalingam Doraiswamy who had been the MP for Kayts and Speaker of the State Council.

To go back, it was an exciting time for the CASA. The Civil Service was abolished in 1962 and in its place had come the Ceylon Administrative Service. One of the main issues was how to select the limited number of persons for the higher grades from about 400 staff officers in the public service. The solution at the time was to have a competitive examination for all staff officers with over five years service, so that a limited number can be recruited to move on to higher grades.

In 1967, the first examination was held and 37 officers were selected. There was much resentment at this arrangement on the part of a large number of officers who did not get through the examination.They wanted this arrangement to be done away with and instead move towards a seniority-based promotion system and the expansion of the number in the higher classes. The younger officers preferred the current arrangement.

That year in 1969, the annual general meeting of the CASA was not pleasant. Several officers whom I knew well and one or two whom I considered were friends made noisy and angry protests. That incident remains in my mind. After I left, the CASA broke up into two. Anyway, being Secretary of the Association gave me a new interest in public administration issues. I might add here that the Prime Minister Dudley Senanayaka was the chief guest for the CASA dinner after all the shenanigans of the day in 1969.

(Excerpted from the writer’s autobiography, The Long Littleness of Life. Leelananda De Silva was a member of the Ceylon Administrative Service from 1960 to 1978. He was Senior Assistant Secretary and Director of Economic Affairs in the Ministry of Planning and Economic Affairs in the 1970s working closely with Prime Minister Sirima Bandaranaike. Later in his career he was a senior international consultant in the UN system and Resident Representative of the Third World Forum in Geneva)



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A wage for housework? India’s sweeping experiment in paying women

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Women in Maharashtra aged 21-65 receive a monthly cash transfer of 1,500 rupees ($16) [BBC]

In a village in the central Indian state of Madhya Pradesh, a woman receives a small but steady sum each month – not wages, for she has no formal job, but an unconditional cash transfer from the government.

Premila Bhalavi says the money covers medicines, vegetables and her son’s school fees. The sum, 1,500 rupees ($16: £12), may be small, but its effect – predictable income, a sense of control and a taste of independence – is anything but.

Her story is increasingly common. Across India, 118 million adult women in 12 states now receive unconditional cash transfers from their governments, making India the site of one of the world’s largest and least-studied social-policy experiments.

Long accustomed to subsidising grain, fuel and rural jobs, India has stumbled into something more radical: paying adult women simply because they keep households running, bear the burden of unpaid care and form an electorate too large to ignore.

Eligibility filters vary – age thresholds, income caps and exclusions for families with government employees, taxpayers or owners of cars or large plots of land.

“The unconditional cash transfers signal a significant expansion of Indian states’ welfare regimes in favour of women,” Prabha Kotiswaran, a professor of law and social justice at King’s College London, told the BBC.

The transfers range from 1,000-2,500 rupees ($12-$30) a month – meagre sums, worth roughly 5-12% of household income, but regular. With 300 million women now holding bank accounts, transfers have become administratively simple.

Women typically spend the money on household and family needs – children’s education, groceries, cooking gas, medical and emergency expenses, retiring small debts and occasional personal items like gold or small comforts.

What sets India apart from Mexico, Brazil or Indonesia – countries with large conditional cash-transfer schemes – is the absence of conditions: the money arrives whether or not a child attends school or a household falls below the poverty line.

AFP  Women voters stand in queues to cast their ballots at a polling station during the first phase of voting for assembly elections on November 6, 2025, at the Raghopur constituency in the Vaishali district of the Indian state of Bihar.
Bihar transferred 10,000 rupees to women’s bank accounts ahead of polls [BBC]

 

Goa was the first state to launch an unconditional cash transfer scheme to women in 2013. The phenomenon picked up just before the pandemic in 2020, when north-eastern Assam rolled out a scheme for vulnerable women. Since then these transfers have turned into a political juggernaut.

The recent wave of unconditional cash transfers targets adult women, with some states acknowledging their unpaid domestic and care work. Tamil Nadu frames its payments as a “rights grant” while West Bengal’s scheme similarly recognises women’s unpaid contributions.

In other states, the recognition is implicit: policymakers expect women to use the transfers for household and family welfare, say experts.

This focus on women’s economic role has also shaped politics: in 2021, Tamil actor-turned-politician Kamal Haasan promised “salaries for housewives”. (His fledgling party lost.) By 2024, pledges of women-focused cash transfers helped deliver victories to political parties in Maharashtra, Jharkhand, Odisha, Haryana and Andhra Pradesh.

In the recent elections in Bihar, the political power of cash transfers was on stark display. In the weeks before polling in the country’s poorest state, the government transferred 10,000 rupees ($112; £85) to 7.5 million female bank accounts under a livelihood-generation scheme. Women voted in larger numbers than men, decisively shaping the outcome.

Critics called it blatant vote-buying, but the result was clear: women helped the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP)-led coalition secure a landslide victory. Many believe this cash infusion was a reminder of how financial support can be used as political leverage.

Yet Bihar is only one piece of a much larger picture. Across India, unconditional cash transfers are reaching tens of millions of women on a regular basis.

Maharashtra alone promises benefits for 25 million women; Odisha’s scheme reaches 71% of its female voters.

In some policy circles, the schemes are derided as vote-buying freebies. They also put pressure on state finances: 12 states are set to spend around $18bn on such payouts this fiscal year. A report by think-tank PRS Legislative Research notes that half of these states face revenue deficits – this happens when a state borrows to pay regular expenses without creating assets.

But many argue they also reflect a slow recognition of something India’s feminists have argued for decades: the economic value of unpaid domestic and care work.

Women in India spent nearly five hours a day on such work in 2024 – more than three times the time spent by men, according to the latest Time Use Survey. This lopsided burden helps explain India’s stubbornly low female labour-force participation. The cash transfers, at least, acknowledge the imbalance, experts say.

Do they work?

Evidence is still thin but instructive. A 2025 study in Maharashtra found that 30% of eligible women did not register – sometimes because of documentation problems, sometimes out of a sense of self-sufficiency. But among those who did, nearly all controlled their own bank accounts.

Swastik Pal Soma Das sells clothes using the money, supporting her seven-member household in West Bengal
Soma Das sells clothes using the money, supporting her household in West Bengal [BBC]

 

A 2023 survey in West Bengal found that 90% operated their accounts themselves and 86% decided how to spend the money. Most used it for food, education and medical costs; hardly transformative, but the regularity offered security and a sense of agency.

More detailed work by Prof Kotiswaran and colleagues shows mixed outcomes.

In Assam, most women spent the money on essentials; many appreciated the dignity it afforded, but few linked it to recognition of unpaid work, and most would still prefer paid jobs.

In Tamil Nadu, women getting the money spoke of peace of mind, reduced marital conflict and newfound confidence – a rare social dividend. In Karnataka, beneficiaries reported eating better, gaining more say in household decisions and wanting higher payments.

Yet only a sliver understood the scheme as compensation for unpaid care work; messaging had not travelled. Even so, women said the money allowed them to question politicians and manage emergencies. Across studies, the majority of women had full control of the cash.

“The evidence shows that the cash transfers are tremendously useful for women to meet their own immediate needs and those of their households. They also restore dignity to women who are otherwise financially dependent on their husbands for every minor expense,” Prof Kotiswaran says.

Importantly, none of the surveys finds evidence that the money discourages women from seeking paid work or entrench gender roles – the two big feminist fears, according to a report by Prof Kotiswaran along with Gale Andrew and Madhusree Jana.

Nor have they reduced women’s unpaid workload, the researchers find. They do, however, strengthen financial autonomy and modestly strengthen bargaining power. They are neither panacea nor poison: they are useful but limited tools, operating in a patriarchal society where cash alone cannot undo structural inequities.

Swastik Pal Women at a cash transfer camp in West Bengal
Women welcome the dignity the cash transfers provide [BBC]

 

What next?

The emerging research offers clear hints.

Eligibility rules should be simplified, especially for women doing heavy unpaid care work. Transfers should remain unconditional and independent of marital status.

But messaging should emphasise women’s rights and the value of unpaid work, and financial-literacy efforts must deepen, researchers say. And cash transfers cannot substitute for employment opportunities; many women say what they really want is work that pays and respect that endures.

“If the transfers are coupled with messaging on the recognition of women’s unpaid work, they could potentially disrupt the gendered division of labour when paid employment opportunities become available,” says Prof Kotiswaran.

India’s quiet cash transfers revolution is still in its early chapters. But it already shows that small, regular sums – paid directly to women – can shift power in subtle, significant ways.

Whether this becomes a path to empowerment or merely a new form of political patronage will depend on what India chooses to build around the money.

[BBC]

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People set example for politicians to follow

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Disaster relief (AFP picture)

Some opposition political parties have striven hard to turn the disaster of Cyclone Ditwah to their advantage. A calamity of such unanticipated proportions ought to have enabled all political parties to come together to deal with this tragedy. Failure to do so would indicate both political and moral bankruptcy. The main issue they have forcefully brought up is the government’s failure to take early action on the Meteorological Department’s warnings. The Opposition even convened a meeting of their own with former President Ranil Wickremesinghe and other senior politicians who shared their experience of dealing with natural and man-made disasters of the past, and the present government’s failures to match them.

The difficulty to anticipate the havoc caused by the cyclone was compounded by the neglect of the disaster management system, which includes previous governments that failed to utilise the allocated funds in an open, transparent and corruption free manner. Land designated as “Red Zones” by the National Building Research Organisation (NBRO), a government research and development institute, were built upon by people and ignored by successive governments, civil society and the media alike. NBRO was established in 1984. According to NBRO records, the decision to launch a formal “Landslide Hazard Zonation Mapping Project (LHMP)” dates from 1986. The institutional process of identifying landslide-prone slopes, classifying zones (including what we today call “Red Zones”), and producing hazard maps, started roughly 35 to 40 years ago.

Indonesia, Thailand and the Philippines which were lashed by cyclones at around the same time as Sri Lanka experienced Cyclone Ditwah were also unprepared and also suffered enormously. The devastation caused by cyclones in the larger southeast Asian region is due to global climate change. During Cyclone Ditwah some parts of the central highlands received more than 500 mm of rainfall. Official climatological data cite the average annual rainfall for Sri Lanka as roughly 1850 mm though this varies widely by region: from around 900 mm in the dry zones up to 5,000 mm in wet zones. The torrential rains triggered by Ditwah were so heavy that for some communities they represented a rainfall surge comparable to a major part of their typical annual rainfall.

Inclusive Approach

Climate change now joins the pantheon of Sri Lanka’s challenges that are beyond the ability of a single political party or government to resolve. It is like the economic bankruptcy, ethnic conflict and corruption in governance that requires an inclusive approach in which the Opposition, civil society, religious society and the business community need to join rather than merely criticise the government. It will be in their self-interest to do so. A younger generation (Gen Z), with more energy and familiarity with digital technologies filled, the gaps that the government was unable to fill and, in a sense, made both the Opposition and traditional civil society redundant.

Within hours of news coming in that floods and landslides were causing havoc to hundreds of thousands of people, a people’s movement for relief measures was underway. There was no one organiser or leader. There were hundreds who catalysed volunteers to mobilise to collect resources and to cook meals for the victims in community kitchens they set up. These community kitchens sprang up in schools, temples, mosques, garages and even roadside stalls. Volunteers used social media to crowdsource supplies, match donors with delivery vehicles, and coordinate routes that had become impassable due to fallen trees or mudslides. It was a level of commitment and coordination rarely achieved by formal institutions.

The spontaneous outpouring of support was not only a youth phenomenon. The larger population, too, contributed to the relief effort. The Galle District Secretariat sent 23 tons of rice to the cyclone affected areas from donations brought by the people. The Matara District Secretariat made arrangements to send teams of volunteers to the worst affected areas. Just as in the Aragalaya protest movement of 2022, those who joined the relief effort were from all ethnic and religious communities. They gave their assistance to anyone in need, regardless of community. This showed that in times of crisis, Sri Lankans treat others without discrimination as human beings, not as members of specific communities.

Turning Point

The challenge to the government will be to ensure that the unity among the people that the cyclone disaster has brought will outlive the immediate relief phase and continue into the longer term task of national reconstruction. There will be a need to rethink the course of economic development to ensure human security. President Anura Kumara Dissanayake has spoken about the need to resettle all people who live above 5000 feet and to reforest those areas. This will require finding land for resettlement elsewhere. The resettlement of people in the hill country will require that the government address the issue of land rights for the Malaiyaha Tamils.

Since independence the Malaiyaha Tamils have been collectively denied ownership to land due first to citizenship issues and now due to poverty and unwillingness of plantation managements to deal with these issues in a just and humanitarian manner beneficial to the workers. Their resettlement raises complex social, economic and political questions. It demands careful planning to avoid repeating past mistakes where displaced communities were moved to areas lacking water, infrastructure or livelihoods. It also requires political consensus, as land is one of the most contentious issues in Sri Lanka, tied closely to identity, ethnicity and historical grievances. Any sustainable solution must go beyond temporary relocation and confront the historical exclusion of the Malaiyaha Tamil community, whose labour sustains the plantation economy but who remain among the poorest groups in the country.

Cyclone Ditwah has thus become a turning point. It has highlighted the need to strengthen governance and disaster preparedness, but it has also revealed a different possibility for Sri Lanka, one in which the people lead with humanity and aspire for the wellbeing of all, and the political leadership emulates their example. The people have shown through their collective response to Cyclone Ditwah that unity and compassion remain strong, which a sincere, moral and hardworking government can tap into. The challenge to the government will be to ensure that the unity among the people that the cyclone disaster has brought will outlive the immediate relief phase and continue into the longer term task of national reconstruction with political reconciliation.

by Jehan Perera

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An awakening: Revisiting education policy after Cyclone Ditwah

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One of the schools flooded during the recent disasters. (Image courtesy Sri Lanka Navy)

In the short span of two or three days, Cyclone Ditwah, has caused a disaster of unprecedented proportions in our midst. Lashing away at almost the entirety of the country, it has broken through the ramparts of centuries old structures and eroded into areas, once considered safe and secure.

The rains may have passed us by. The waters will recede, shops will reopen, water will be in our taps, and we can resume the daily grind of life. But it will not be the same anymore; it should not be. It should not be business as usual for any of us, nor for the government. Within the past few years, Sri Lankan communities have found themselves in the middle of a crisis after crisis, both natural and man-made, but always made acute by the myopic policies of successive governments, and fuelled by the deeply hierarchical, gendered and ethnicised divides that exist within our societies. The need of the hour for the government today is to reassess its policies and rethink the directions the country, as a whole, has been pushed into.

Neoliberal disaster

In the aftermath of the devastation caused by the natural disaster, fundamental questions have been raised about our existence. Our disaster is, in whole or in part, the result of a badly and cruelly managed environment of the planet. Questions have been raised about the nature of our economy. We need to rethink the way land is used. Livelihoods may have to be built anew, promoting people’s welfare, and by deveoloping a policy on climate change. Mega construction projects is a major culprit as commentators have noted. Landslides in the upcountry are not merely a result of Ditwah lashing at our shores and hills, but are far more structural and points to centuries of mismanagement of land. (https://island.lk/weather-disasters-sri-lanka-flooded-by-policy-blunders-weak-enforcement-and-environmental-crime-climate-expert/). It is also about the way people have been shunted into lands, voluntarily or involuntarily, that are precarious, in their pursuit of a viable livelihood, within the limited opportunities available to them.

Neo liberal policies that demand unfettered land appropriation and built on the premise of economic growth at any expense, leading to growing rural-urban divides, need to be scrutinised for their short and long term consequences. And it is not that any of these economic drives have brought any measure of relief and rejuvenation of the economy. We have been under the tyrannical hold of the IMF, camouflaged as aid and recovery, but sinking us deeper into the debt trap. In October 2025, Ahilan Kadirgamar writes, that the IMF programme by the end of 2027, “will set up Sri Lanka for the next crisis.” He also lambasts the Central Bank and the government’s fiscal policy for their punishing interest rates in the context of disinflation and rising poverty levels. We have had to devalue the rupee last month, and continue to rely on the workforce of domestic workers in West Asia as the major source of foreign exchange. The government’s negotiations with the IMF have focused largely on relief and infrastructure rebuilding, despite calls from civil society, demanding debt justice.

The government has unabashedly repledged its support for the big business class. The cruelest cut of them all is the appointment of a set of high level corporate personalities to the post-disaster recovery committee, with the grand name, “Rebuilding Sri Lanka.” The message is loud and clear, and is clearly a slap in the face of the working people of the country, whose needs run counter to the excessive greed of extractive corporate freeloaders. Economic growth has to be understood in terms that are radically different from what we have been forced to think of it as, till now. For instance, instead of investment for high profits, and the business of buy and sell in the market, rechannel investment and labour into overall welfare. Even catch phrases like sustainable development have missed their mark. We need to think of the economy more holistically and see it as the sustainability of life, livelihood and the wellbeing of the planet.

The disaster has brought on an urgency for rethinking our policies. One of the areas where this is critical is education. There are two fundamental challenges facing education: Budget allocation and priorities. In an address at a gathering of the Chamber of Commerce, on 02 December, speaking on rebuilding efforts, the Prime Minister and Minister of Education Dr. Harini Amarasuriya restated her commitment to the budget that has been passed, a budget that has a meagre 2.4% of the GDP allocated for education. This allocation for education comes in a year that educational reforms are being rolled out, when heavy expenses will likely be incurred. In the aftermath of the disaster, this has become more urgent than ever.

Reforms in Education

The Government has announced a set of amendments to educational policy and implementation, with little warning and almost no consultation with the public, found in the document, Transforming General Education in Sri Lanka 2025 published by the Ministry of Education. Though hailed as transformative by the Prime Minister (https://www.news.lk/current-affairs/in-the-prevailing-situation-it-is-necessary-to-act-strategically-while-creating-the-proper-investments-ensuring-that-actions-are-discharged-on-proper-policies-pm), the policy is no more than a regurgitation of what is already there, made worse. There are a few welcome moves, like the importance placed on vocational training. Here, I want to raise three points relating to vital areas of the curriculum that are of concern: 1) streamlining at an early age; relatedly 2) prioritising and privileging what is seen as STEM education; and 3) introducing a credit-based modular education.

1. A study of the policy document will demonstrate very clearly that streamlining begins with Junior Secondary Education via a career interest test, that encourages students to pursue a particular stream in higher studies. Further Learning Modules at both “Junior Secondary Education” and “Senior Secondary Education Phase I,” entrench this tendency. Psychometric testing, that furthers this goal, as already written about in our column (https://kuppicollective.lk/psychometrics-and-the-curriculum-for-general-education/) points to the bizarre.

2. The kernel of the curriculum of the qualifying examination of Senior Secondary Education Phase I, has five mandatory subjects, including First Language, Math, and Science. There is no mandatory social science or humanities related subject. One can choose two subjects from a set of electives that has history and geography as separate subjects, but a Humanities/Social Science subject is not in the list of mandatory subjects. .

3. A credit-based, modular education: Even in universities, at the level of an advanced study of a discipline, many of us are struggling with module-based education. The credit system promotes a fragmented learning process, where, depth is sacrificed for quick learning, evaluated numerically, in credit values.

Units of learning, assessed, piece meal, are emphasised over fundamentals and the detailing of fundamentals. Introducing a module based curriculum in secondary education can have an adverse impact on developing the capacity of a student to learn a subject in a sustained manner at deeper levels.

Education wise, and pedagogically, we need to be concerned about rigidly compartmentalising science oriented, including technological subjects, separately from Humanities and Social Studies. This cleavage is what has led to the idea of calling science related subjects, STEM, automatically devaluing humanities and social sciences. Ironically, universities, today, have attempted, in some instances, to mix both streams in their curriculums, but with little success; for the overall paradigm of education has been less about educational goals and pedagogical imperatives, than about technocratic priorities, namely, compartmentalisation, fragmentation, and piecemeal consumerism. A holistic response to development needs to rethink such priorities, categorisations and specialisations. A social and sociological approach has to be built into all our educational and development programmes.

National Disasters and Rebuilding Community

In the aftermath of the disaster, the role of education has to be rethought radically. We need a curriculum that is not trapped in the dichotomy of STEM and Humanities, and be overly streamlined and fragmented. The introduction of climate change as a discipline, or attention to environmental destruction cannot be a STEM subject, a Social Science/Humanities subject or even a blend of the two. It is about the vision of an economic-cum-educational policy that sees the environment and the economy as a function of the welfare of the people. Educational reforms must be built on those fundamentals and not on real or imagined short term goals, promoted at the economic end by neo liberal policies and the profiteering capitalist class.

As I write this, the sky brightens with its first streaks of light, after days of incessant rain and gloom, bringing hope into our hearts, and some cheer into the hearts of those hundreds of thousands of massively affected people, anxiously waiting for a change in the weather every second of their lives. The sense of hope that allows us to forge ahead is collective and social. The response by Lankan communities, to the disaster, has been tremendously heartwarming, infusing hope into what still is a situation without hope for many. This spirit of collective endeavour holds the promise for what should be the foundation for recovery. People’s demands and needs should shape the re-envisioning of policy, particularly in the vital areas of education and economy.

(Sivamohan Sumathy was formerly attached to the Department of English, University of Peradeniya)

Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.

By Sivamohan Sumathy

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