Features

My beginnings at Pallansena and how my parents and the village influenced my life

Published

3 years ago

2023/06/25

Thilina Walpola

Our Lady of Seven Sorrows Church, Pallansena

The Merril. J Fernando autobiography

Excerpted from The Story of the Ceylon Teamaker

Ninety-three years ago – in 1930 – I was born to a middle class family in the village of Pallansena, as the youngest of the six children of Harry and Lucy Fernando. My sister, Agnes, was the eldest and then came brothers Lennie and Pius, followed by sisters Doreen and Rita. My family roots can be traced back to this village where, from the time of my great-grandparents, ours had been a leading family.

Pallansena is situated about 15 kilometres north of the Colombo International Airport. Many decades ago, long before the airport was even thought of, it was a small village of about 100 closely-knit families. As common to such villages then, most of the families were connected to each other, either through blood or marriage. Irrespective of such connections, all those who lived in the village comprised one large family, held together by religious and cultural commonalities, shared responsibilities, and concern for one another.

Pallansena is no longer a village though, having gradually been overwhelmed by the urbanization and commercialization that is changing the charming landscape of this country, all over. That once-serene rural community is now a crowded suburb of the more densely-populated Kochchikade. The land on either side of the road that I, as a child, used to walk along on my way to the Pallansena village school, was lined with coconut plantations. Today, only a few scattered patches of coconut remain.

Much of the old plantation land is now built over, with modern residences, shops, hotels, and guest houses. In the village of Pallansena itself, most of the graceful old houses with wide verandahs and central courtyards, set deep in large, tree-laden gardens, have disappeared. Instead, unlovely facades of brick, glass, and concrete with barred windows line the roads on both sides.

Many of the houses then, large and small, had intricate wooden trellis frontages, which gave privacy but did not hinder ventilation. These have now been replaced by featureless iron and masonry grills. The very few old houses that remain still evoke memories of a vanished appeal. However, unlike in my youth, they too are now surrounded by high parapet walls and, therefore, rarely seen.

The Maha Oya and the Hamilton Canal which flows into it, in my youth clearly visible through the trees, and the houses which lined the gravel road running past the Our Lady of Seven Sorrows Church, have been obscured by row upon row of buildings. The once-pristine surface of the water and the clean, sandy banks, lined with rushes and other water plants, are today littered with imperishable plastic debris.

Instead of the weathered, light wooden canoes and rafts which used to be drawn up on the banks, far apart from each other, hundreds of garishly-coloured fibre-glass motor boats are anchored, shoulder to shoulder and bow to stern, at the edge of the water. The muted splash of wooden oars has been replaced by the clatter of high-powered outboard motors, rudely cleaving the surface. The broad-beamed padda boats with sloping cadjan canopies, steered by weather-beaten boatmen wielding long wooden poles, transporting both cargo and people, were another common feature along the canal in my early youth. They too disappeared many decades ago.

In my youth the community co-existed in gentle harmony with its surroundings. But, today, the unforgiving influence of commercial prosperity has been imposed on a once-tranquil society. Signs of affluence are visible and numerous, but they have come at a heavy price, which has been paid by a vulnerable environment.

Formative influences

Pallansena, like most villages on the western coast then, especially north of Colombo, was almost entirely Catholic, the result of the Portuguese influence, which first made its presence felt in Ceylon at the beginning of the 16th century. Religion was both a powerful unifying and guiding force and all families were raised on the strict spiritual principles of the faith. The Parish Priest was a man of great authority in the community, a sort of a benevolent dictator, a feature common to all such societies.

The village church used to be the centre of both religious and social activity. As a youth I was an altar boy in the church, then considered a proud distinction. Despite the many developments that have changed the face of Pallansena over the years, the church continues to be a powerful influence in the community. In a society which has evolved almost beyond recognition, that one feature has remained a constant in the nine decades since my birth.

My parents, especially my mother, raised me strictly according to sound, time-tested values, centred around the family and our faith. She was very religious and civic-minded and from my childhood, instilled in me the need to help our less-affluent neighbours. She visited other families regularly and, despite my vocal protests, quite often shared with the children of these families the prized goodies that I received, such as cakes, chocolates, and sweets.

In that era, in communities such as Pallansena, whilst there was no significant poverty, there were still a few underprivileged families. To my mother, helping such people was a serious moral obligation. She was a woman of great generosity and humility and was truly loved by the people of the village. She is still spoken of with much affection and gratitude by the older folk of the village, especially those who benefited from her compassion.

Neighbours reciprocated my mother’s many acts of kindness by frequently bringing her their home-grown fruits, vegetables, and traditional home-made sweets. As she sat in her verandah, always with rosary in hand, passing neighbours would stop and talk to her. They would also offer to buy her groceries and run other little errands for her. Sharing and caring were endearing features of our village, undoubtedly mirrored across many similar communities then, unlike in the highly-urbanized and commercialized age we live in now.

The principles that I still live by were articulated for me, very early, by role model example by my parents, especially my mother. They were conditioned largely by the teachings of my religion and the decent ethics of life, which are common to all great religions and principled societies. Since moving out of that somewhat-cloistered community and into the larger world of industry and international commerce eventually, I have been exposed constantly to different learnings and varied influences. However, the strength of that early indoctrination is such that I have remained true to those principles of conduct and interaction. On reflection, I feel comfortable with myself today because my basic values have not changed.

In the environment I was brought up, people took time and effort to care for each other. The concern that people of the village had for each other was clearly demonstrated, in times of both grief and joy. For example, when there was a funeral in the village, neighbours would send the mourning family meals for three days. Similarly, when there was a wedding, neighbours would send dinner to the wedding house on the pre-nuptial night. These traditions were of great practical benefit, intended to reduce pressure on the family concerned, enabling them to concentrate on the event.

For generations my ancestors had worshipped at the Pallansena, Our Lady of Seven Sorrows Church. My maternal great-grandparents, Petrus Perera and Anna Marie Perera, passing on in 1881 and 1901 respectively, are interred within the southern wing of the church, their final resting places marked by two stone tablets set into the church floor. Despite the many feet of worshippers which have trod on them for over a century, the dedications etched into the slabs are still very clear. Apparently, this unusual distinction had been extended to these two ancestors of mine, on account of their generosity to the church.

The spacious grounds on which the church now stands had been gifted by these two, whilst they had also contributed generously towards the construction of the church itself. The incumbent priest’s residence, a beautiful, heavily-timbered, two-storeyed, Dutch-styled house, still elegant despite some indelicate, subsequently introduced modern flourishes, had also been built by them.

They had both been well-reputed Ayurveda physicians, especially known for the treatment of cataract and other eye diseases. My grandmother and grand-aunts continued this healing tradition. I recall that there would be many patients consulting them every day, with the numbers increasing on weekends.

They also made a very special herbal oil which, apparently, was guaranteed to keep hair black, well into old age.

My brothers and sisters used that oil and retained black heads of hair, well into their seventies. I used it in my teens. It had a very strong, highly-aromatic scent, but in my view, not unpleasant. However, since my schoolmates objected to the smell, I stopped using it very early. This wonder oil was distilled from a mixture of rare herbs and ghee, all the ingredients being boiled together in copper cauldrons, over wood fires, for three weeks.

Sadly, none of our younger family members learned the formula for this healing oil. I still have a thick head of hair, but it has been silver for a long time. Perhaps, instead of yielding to my schoolmates, I should have continued to use the oil!

The medicines for the treatment of eye diseases were distilled from a variety of herbs, which were crushed and mixed with other ingredients, including mothers’ breast milk. Often, in my youth, I was frequently given the embarrassing assignment of approaching breast feeding mothers in the village and asking for spoonsful of milk. It was always readily given, though.

My grandmother was a heavily-built lady who spent most of her time in a comfortable chair, with her walking stick beside her. As a playful little boy, I used to tease her by hiding it frequently and my aunts had to retrieve it repeatedly, scolding me all the time. In her annoyance at my harassment she used to threaten me. It was then fun for me, but I realized later how irritating I would have been to her.

My two aunts were very religious, always praying to God for the welfare of the family. I would ask them if they were praying for me, too. The answer was always a very firm NO, because I used to annoy my grandmother all the time. No one knew my grandmother’s exact age, but she lived a comfortable life for over 100 years.

My parents

I truly miss the village life of my early youth, the transparently genuine values of simple people — kindness, cordiality, love, and concern for one another and especially the needy were the virtues that held such societies together. Those values are unknown in big cities today. I miss the fresh air, the clean rivers and canals, sea bathing, and the furtive swimming outings with friends of my age in the Maha Oya, which flowed behind my home. My pet dog, Beauty, a Golden Retriever, would also jump into the water with us and stay at my side as long as I was in the water. Such faithfulness is still seen amongst animals but rarely with people.

My mother was very protective of me and terrified of my swimming. She did not allow me to swim either in the river or the sea. Invariably, even on our secret swimming escapades, she would appear on the bank within minutes of us entering the water and scold my friends for having persuaded me to get in, although it was actually on my invitation that we were in the water. My friends were always in awe of my mother. Despite her naturally kindly nature, when angry she could be formidable.

On weekends I used to get together with a few of the village boys and play cricket, football and ‘elle’ on the road. The latter game, a simplified version of American baseball, would attract others from the village and soon we would have as many as 20 people competing. It was great fun, with the winners eventually treating the losers with king coconut plucked from a nearby tree.

Those were wonderful times in a simple village society, where we all treated each other in a spirit of equal friendliness and sharing. Many of my friends were from poor homes in the village, but such differences did not matter. Very few of my village friends are alive today.

My mother was my role model in my early years and became a defining influence in my development as an adult as well. She always represented an uncompromising moral power. Her devotion to the family was the driving force and purpose of her life. As a typical old-fashioned housewife, she did most of the cooking, producing outstanding food of our preference.

She had a very efficient woman, Isabel, to assist her in both housework and in the kitchen, but she insisted on doing much of the cooking herself. To this day, I try to prevail on my cooks to use the ingredients she relied on. She roasted and prepared all the spices and other ingredients at home. The tempting flavours and the heady fragrance of spices, which Ceylon is famous for, were ever present in our home.

Isabel was a middle-aged lady who had been working in my parents’ home for many years and was very much part of the family. In ensuring that the children of the family, especially I, conducted ourselves well, she exerted almost as much authority as my mother did. In our household there was no visible master-servant distinction. That was another lesson I learnt at a very early age from my mother: irrespective of station in life, mutual respect was a condition to be observed in all exchanges, transactions, and relationships.

When she was about 80 years of age, my mother had a serious fall and fractured her hip. I was holidaying in Nuwara Eliya at that time and rushed back on hearing the news. She was admitted to hospital in severe pain and I contacted my friend, Dr. Rienzie Pieris, Senior Orthopaedic Surgeon, who operated on her immediately. Three weeks after the surgery she was released from hospital and with some difficulty I persuaded her to stay in my home in Colombo, for her convalescence before returning to the village.

My mother occupied the guest room in my house and was provided full-time professional nursing care, with my domestic staff also dancing attendance on her. I was delighted that she was now in my home. However, after a few days, my mother pleaded to be sent back to her Pallansena home. Despite the special attention and comforts I provided, she was unhappy away from her familiar environment and her friends. I understood her need and reluctantly took her back to the village, though she was deeply apologetic for disappointing me by her refusal to stay with me.

She refused to undergo physiotherapy after she returned to the village. No amount of persuasion regarding the importance of post surgical therapy could change her mind. As a result, despite the corrective surgery, she was unable to walk unaided and for the rest of her life was compelled to use a wheelchair. However, my widowed sister Doreen took great care of her.

I used to visit regularly, taking with me things which she enjoyed. Despite her condition, she continued to share these with others. Even the tea that I provided her from my company was parceled and shared with neighbours. Since she was now unable to do any housework, she used to spend most of her time in a special chair placed in the verandah, quite often with the holy rosary and reciting her prayers. Whenever I visited her, the first words to me would be, “Son, I am praying for you all the time; God will always bless you.”

In her last year, though she would greet me affectionately whenever I visited, my mother failed to recognize me, which distressed me deeply. She acknowledged only Doreen, her constant companion and carer. I realized then that her end was near and prayed to God for his blessings. On April 6, 1988, at the age of 98-years, 17 years after my father’s death, she passed into the arms of Jesus Christ. I had lost my great treasure.

During her funeral, which was held at the Pallansena church, there was a torrential downpour lasting about 15 minutes. It was so unexpected and so intense that it seemed to me to be symbolic of the occasion.

Old family home in Pitipana, now the Saddhasarana Home for the Aged.

My love and admiration for her have been constant. She taught me a great lesson in life – to love my neighbour as myself and to share with those in need. She instilled in me, at a very early age, the concept that moral values cannot be compromised, irrespective of circumstances or the nature of temptation. Not until I started working and earning did I realize the value of her personal ethic, which was reflected in her everyday life. I absorbed from her the principle that a man had a responsibility to his community. And, later, as I shared with the less fortunate, my earnings increased, my business prospered, and God’s blessings flowed in abundance.

My father, Harry, was a simple, humble, and extremely hardworking man. He worked a long day, leaving home at early dawn and returning very late in the evening. His last business was the manufacture and supply of building materials, red bricks and tiles especially, for construction companies and other customers, mainly in Negombo, which was about 10 kilometres away.

The material he produced was collected and delivered by both lorries and bullock carts. Often there were delays in the settlement of his dues and collection would require many visits to customers. He would make all such journeys either on foot or by bullock cart.

He was a man of reasonable means. I realized that because people regularly borrowed money from him. Collection of such debts was often a problem, with debtors constantly trying to evade him. Those who were spotted by him on his collection trips would then feel the rough edge of his tongue. My father was a stern man who never forgot the due dates of settlement and insisted on the timely discharge of obligations and responsibilities. It occurred to me then itself that money-lending was not a pleasant business.

My father sent us all to good schools and, within his means, provided for us well. That was quite sufficient to give us decent starts in life and all his six children did well for themselves. If he were alive today, he would be a very proud and happy man. Whilst my siblings were generally obedient, I think I was the only trouble-maker, especially in my early years. Though my somewhat erratic educational progress would have disappointed him, he ungrudgingly paid all my school and boarding fees.

In his final years he lived at home with my mother and my widowed sister Doreen and I were able to care for them in every way. As he grew older and dependent on others for his daily needs, he became a little difficult and would complain about Doreen, who was under great stress but managing very well under the circumstances. I used to console Doreen with the assurance that since she was looking after our parents, when the time came I would look after her as well.

My father passed away on February 11, 1971 at the age of 84 years. He lived a good, responsible life. I thank God that I was able to show him my love and gratitude for all he did for the family. I deeply miss my parents and the others of my family who have passed on. I believe that our family will reunite at the second coming of Jesus Christ.

In December every year I visit my village for an almsgiving ceremony, in memory of my parents and family members who have passed away. I give away a couple of hundred packs of dry rations, each sufficient to last a family during Christmas and New Year. A few remaining friends and their siblings show up and say, “Sir, can you remember, my brother used to play cricket and ‘elle’ with you?” I do recall them and feel blessed that I am now in a position to help them in various ways. The Parish Priest at Pallansena has been very useful in identifying such people in need and I have been able to channel my assistance through him.

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Features

Beyond traditional jobs: Why Sri Lanka needs to facilitate the gig economy

Published

1 day ago

2026/09/25

Thilina Walpola

Image courtesy Oxford University

by Kapila Chinthaka Premarathne
Head of the Department of Agricultural Systems and a Senior Lecturer in Agricultural Economics at the Faculty of Agriculture,
Rajarata University of Sri Lanka

Beyond the Graduate Unemployment Number

Sri Lanka’s economic recovery has improved macroeconomic stability, but youth unemployment remains a significant labour-market concern. Around 43% of Sri Lankan youth aged 15–24 with postsecondary education are unemployed, the highest among the Asian economies compared in the IMF analysis, compared with about 36% in Bangladesh and 13.2% in Thailand. This reflects a problem of skills mismatches and the difficulty of connecting higher education with changing labour-market demand. The concern goes beyond unemployment itself. Sri Lanka has invested heavily in educating its younger population, yet the conventional labour market is not creating enough opportunities to convert these qualifications into income. Many young people possess degrees, technical knowledge and growing digital familiarity, but remain outside formal employment because suitable jobs may not exist in the right place, at the right time or under conditions compatible with their circumstances. This makes it necessary to think beyond traditional employment models and explore new ways of connecting Sri Lanka’s educated youth with economic opportunities.

This is where Sri Lanka needs to reconsider how it understands employment

Employment has traditionally been viewed through the employer–employee relationship, with qualifications leading to a formal job and regular salary. While this model remains important, digital platforms are creating new ways to generate income, allowing individuals to work for multiple clients across geographical boundaries without permanent employment. Sri Lanka therefore needs to look beyond simply creating conventional jobs and consider whether it is building the conditions for its educated population to participate in the growing global market for digital services.

The Opportunity of the Gig Economy

The gig economy extends far beyond ride-hailing and delivery services. Digital platforms increasingly connect skilled individuals with opportunities in software development, design, accounting, data analysis, digital marketing, translation, online education, research and consultancy. This is particularly relevant to Sri Lanka, where a highly educated population faces a relatively limited domestic market for specialised skills. Digital platforms can overcome geographical constraints by connecting Sri Lankan workers directly with international clients.

As highlighted in my previous LSE South Asia article on women and the gig economy, such work should not replace formal employment but can create additional income opportunities when supported by appropriate skills, digital infrastructure, training and institutional support. A skilled person in Anuradhapura, Jaffna, Batticaloa or Monaragala could potentially serve clients in London, Melbourne or Dubai without first relocating to Colombo. This makes the gig economy relevant not only to employment but also to Sri Lanka’s emerging digital services-export strategy.

A Digitally Familiar Generation

Sri Lanka’s younger generation is growing up with smartphones, social media, online learning, digital applications and digital financial services, giving them a level of digital familiarity that previous generations did not have. However, digital familiarity does not automatically translate into digital employability. The challenge is to transform everyday digital use into productive skills such as data analysis, artificial intelligence, software development, digital marketing, financial analysis and online professional services.

Sri Lanka therefore needs to move young people from being consumers of digital services to producers of digital value. Universities, vocational institutions and training providers can play an important role in converting existing digital familiarity into marketable skills that connect young people with both domestic and international opportunities. This is increasingly important as technological change and AI reshape labour markets and intensify the need for skills that match emerging forms of work.

The Gender Dimension

The gig economy may be particularly relevant to women, who often face barriers to conventional employment arising from childcare, eldercare, mobility, social expectations and rigid working arrangements. For mothers and women living outside major urban centres, fixed working hours and daily commuting can make formal employment difficult even when suitable jobs exist.

Digital gig work can provide greater flexibility, allowing women to undertake professional assignments from home or their communities and potentially serve international clients without relocating. As discussed in my earlier LSE South Asia article, this opportunity is most meaningful when supported by digital infrastructure, skills training, virtual work hubs, mentorship and appropriate institutional support. However, flexibility should expand women’s economic choices rather than simply add paid work to existing unpaid household responsibilities.

Pressure on Labour-Market Opportunity

The value of a job cannot be judged by salary alone, as commuting, working hours and household responsibilities can significantly affect its real economic value. Flexible digital work can potentially reduce some of these costs by allowing people to work from home or nearby digital hubs and participate in employment on a part-time or project basis. While gig work cannot solve all household pressures, a more flexible organisation of work can create additional employment opportunities while helping households manage their limited time and resources more effectively.

A Possible Third Option Between Unemployment and Migration

Sri Lanka’s migration and brain-drain concerns highlight the need to explore employment opportunities beyond the domestic labour market. While overseas migration will remain an important individual and economic choice, digital work can provide another pathway by allowing skilled Sri Lankans to serve international clients without physically leaving the country. Software developers, designers, analysts, researchers, translators and consultants can potentially earn from global markets while remaining in Sri Lanka. Digital gig work cannot eliminate migration or reverse brain drain, but it can create an additional option between domestic unemployment and physical migration—working for the world while remaining in Sri Lanka.

Recognising and Making Digital Work Reputable

A major institutional gap is that conventional systems are designed around salaried employment, while a freelancer may earn from multiple clients without a single employer or salary certificate. This can make legitimate digital workers difficult to recognise when they seek loans, leasing, insurance or business finance. Sri Lanka could address this through a voluntary digital-worker or independent-professional registration mechanism, providing a recognised economic identity based on qualifications, verified skills, platform activity and documented income, without creating unnecessary bureaucracy.

Such recognition should also make digital income bankable. Banks could assess verified platform earnings, bank transactions, contracts, invoices, tax records, savings and repayment history alongside conventional employment documents. A standardised digital income statement could further help workers demonstrate their financial capacity. The key shift is from asking “Who is your employer?” to asking “Can your income be verified and is it sufficiently stable?”. This would allow successful digital workers to build financial credibility and use their earnings to access credit, acquire assets and develop their own businesses.

Digital Payments Are Part of the Labour Market

Access to reliable international payment systems is essential if Sri Lankans are to participate effectively in the global digital economy. Recent developments in PayPal’s local banking arrangements, including its partnerships with Sampath Bank and Commercial Bank, indicate progress in this direction. However, the broader priority should be a regulated and efficient digital-payment ecosystem that allows workers to receive international earnings, transfer them to Sri Lankan bank accounts, document their income and meet relevant financial and tax requirements with minimal friction. International payment infrastructure is therefore not simply a technology issue; it is an essential component of Sri Lanka’s emerging services-export economy.

Building Infrastructure Outside Colombo

Digital familiarity alone is insufficient without reliable internet, electricity, computers, software and suitable working environments, particularly in rural and underserved areas. To ensure that the gig economy supports regional development rather than becoming another Colombo-centred opportunity, Sri Lanka could establish regional digital-work hubs through universities, vocational institutions, libraries and public-private partnerships. These hubs could provide connectivity, equipment, training, mentoring and assistance with platform registration and international payments. If graduates must migrate to Colombo simply to access such infrastructure, the geographical advantage of digital work is significantly reduced.

From Freelancer to Entrepreneur

Gig work should not be viewed as an end in itself. A person may begin with small online assignments, develop regular clients and professional credibility, and eventually establish a small digital enterprise. This creates a potential pathway from graduate to freelancer, professional service provider and entrepreneur, allowing individuals to create markets around their own skills rather than waiting for conventional vacancies. Universities can support this transition by teaching students not only subject knowledge but also portfolio development, market identification, client communication, digital platforms and contract management. A degree demonstrates educational attainment, while a professional portfolio demonstrates what a graduate can offer to the market.

Facilitation Must Be Matched by Protection

Promoting the gig economy without appropriate safeguards could simply transfer employment risks from institutions to individuals. Digital workers may face uncertain incomes, weak bargaining power and limited social protection. Sri Lanka should therefore facilitate digital work while also ensuring opportunities for independent workers to build savings, access insurance and participate in portable social-protection mechanisms. Flexibility should create greater economic choice without compromising long-term financial security, particularly for women.

A regional Example from India: Think Globally and act Locally

India provides a useful regional example of how the gig economy can be approached as a policy issue rather than simply as informal or temporary work. NITI Aayog has estimated the size and future employment potential of India’s gig and platform economy and has developed recommendations covering employment generation, skills, financial inclusion and social protection. More importantly, India has begun creating institutional mechanisms around these workers. Its e-Shram portal provides a national database of unorganised workers, including gig and platform workers, creating a recognised identity through which workers can potentially access employment, skills development and social-security services. India has also explored platform-led skills development through skill certificates, skill passports and on-the-job training, while NITI Aayog has proposed cash-flow-based lending models that could allow platform workers to demonstrate creditworthiness through their earnings rather than conventional employment or collateral.

Social protection has also entered the policy framework. India’s Code on Social Security, 2020 formally recognises gig and platform workers and provides a basis for schemes covering areas such as accident insurance, health, maternity, disability and old-age protection. India is still developing and refining these arrangements, and Sri Lanka need not replicate the Indian model.

However, the experience demonstrates an important policy lesson: the gig economy can be supported through a system that identifies workers, develops their skills, makes their income more visible to financial institutions and extends appropriate social protection. Sri Lanka could develop its own simpler framework suited to its smaller economy, beginning with recognising digital workers and building the institutional conditions that allow their skills and earnings to become part of the formal economy.

Rethinking Employment and the Next Opportunity

The 43 percent figure for educated young Sri Lankans should encourage a wider discussion about the changing nature of work. Sri Lanka will continue to need conventional employment through firms, industries, farms, professional organisations and public institutions, but the changing labour market also requires new opportunities to connect educated Sri Lankans with global digital markets. The gig economy can provide an additional pathway to increase female labour-force participation, reduce the pressure for migration and brain drain, and connect Sri Lankan skills with markets beyond geographical boundaries.

This does not require a complicated bureaucracy. It requires recognising legitimate digital workers, facilitating access to international platforms and payment systems, allowing verified digital income to support credit assessment, developing portable social protection, and strengthening digital infrastructure and skills beyond major urban centres. Better data on digital workers would also help policymakers develop evidence-based interventions.

The future of work is therefore not only about creating more jobs, but about creating more ways for Sri Lankans to work, earn and build livelihoods while continuing to live and contribute in Sri Lanka. The gig economy should be recognised as part of an emerging digital labour market and services-export economy, where workers can build professional identities, earn internationally, access finance and eventually develop their own enterprises.

Features

Are religions getting redundant in the modern world?

Published

1 day ago

2026/09/25

Thilina Walpola

by Dr Upul Wijayawardhana

We are living in an era of astonishingly rapid scientific advancement. From the time Apple launched the ‘iPhone’ in January 2007, the first targeting the mass market, smartphones have taken over the world, making them indispensable. According to the latest statistics, there are around 8.1 billion mobile phones with 7.4 billion active smartphones, for the world population of 8.25 billion. Except for a tiny minority of the very poor, most people have at least one smartphone.

We are now entering the era of Artificial Intelligence (AI) and smart robots. Recently, a ‘Chinese’ robot ran 100 metres faster than Usain Bolt! Though Alan Turing proposed the idea of ‘Thinking Machines’ way back in 1950, the real AI boom commenced with the release of the generative AI chatbot, ChatGPT, by OpenAI in November 2020. Number of technology firms in the US as well as in China have joined the race, China catching up very fast, quite unexpectedly. There is a frenzy at the moment, raising expectations, as the imminent floating of these companies is likely to value the two leaders, OpenAI and Anthropic, trillion dollars each!

However, trouble is brewing in the AI field. On top of the concerns raised by environmentalists regarding the huge power drain by AI centres, there are recent reports of some AI models hacking independently into other systems, without human input. Worse still, a senior researcher at Anthropic, who has previously worked for OpenAI as well, resigned in early September on ethical grounds stating that the way the two companies are fast-tracking AI poses an existential threat to humanity. Surprisingly, instead of a rebuttal the head of Anthropic supported his view, soon joined by three more heads of leading AI developers. Whilst they agreed on slowing progress, President Trump has claimed that slowing is totally unnecessary as long as a super intelligent President like himself is at the helm! There does not seem to be an end to Trump’s grandiosity! He was joined by Tony Blair. In contrast, King Charles held a summit with representatives of all AI developers to find a way AI could be developed without a threat to humanity. That is how wise leaders act!

Less sophisticated AI tools are already in widespread use and installed in computers, laptops and smartphones. Some of us are using these automatically. However, the more advanced AI tools like ChatGPT can change even reality. For instance, AI can generate videos hardly distinguishable from real ones. What you enjoy watching on YouTube may be just the creations of AI! Some people use AI to write articles; only a few of them admit that they do so. Very soon we may be reading stories AI creates and listening to music, courtesy of AI. Technology seems to be fast becoming the new religion? Or, will the existential threat move us more towards religion?

Religion, perhaps, is as old as humanity itself; various belief systems evolving and disappearing coupled with the fortunes of the associated civilizations. Just like AI, religion is also a creation of the human mind which our ancestors did to explain many phenomena which appeared, at that time, to be supernatural. Starting with Animism, perceiving the divine in the natural world around, humans went on to Polytheism, believing in many gods like in Hinduism, culminating in the concept of Monotheism.

World’s oldest religion, Hinduism, still in wide practice, is devoid of a founder or a single text. The earliest scriptures, Rigveda, is considered to be around 3,500 years old but archaeologists have discovered symbols of importance to Hinduism as far back as 7,000 BCE. Though it is considered to be Polytheistic, it can be argued that it was the precursor of Monotheism, the concept of a creator God, as Brahma was the creator in the triad, Trimurti, Vishnu being the preserver and Shiva being the destroyer. It seems to be a sensible balancing act; create, destroy and repair with improvements.

It is pretty obvious that as science expands, the importance of religion contracts but it is hardly likely religions would be totally redundant. We have no choice as to which family we are born to and that invariably determines what your religion would be, if any. Religion is the first brainwashing a child encounters and most remain in the same faith, often trying to defend even the indefensible, but some change through conviction or conversion due to one of many reasons. Further, religious rituals have social values and religious practices often come to one’s solace at times of distress. Therefore, many will continue with the religion they were born to but with declining enthusiasm, at times. However, some religions seem to be facing problems like falling attendances in places of worship. With education and tech savviness expanding, one would expect the youth to be less enthusiastic about religion but the converse is true in some religions, some youth becoming very militant unfortunately.

While most religions make you subservient to a supernatural power, the Buddha was wise and bold enough to remove those shackles. He proclaimed that one’s destiny is in one’s own hands. However, many Buddhists appear to attach greater significance to rituals than to practising the Dhamma.

Buddhism as a religion may become less relevant as the frontiers of science expands but the Buddha Dhamma, especially Abhidhamma and Vipassana, would receive increasing recognition, the Buddha remaining an authority on consciousness and the mind.

Scientific progress should be for the betterment of society but AI developers are taking huge risks, taking massive loans threatening the world economy, for one aim: profit! Some do not seem to care even if their actions pose an existential threat to humanity.

Perhaps, if the Four Sublime Attitudes (Sathara Brahma Vihara) expounded by the Buddha; loving kindness (Metta), compassion (Karuna), empathetic joy (Muditha) and equanimity (Upekkha) are adopted as universal values, the world would become a safer place to live in, with or without AI.

Features

‘The Bullet that Missed’

Published

1 day ago

2026/09/25

Thilina Walpola

Tales of Mystery and Suspense 21

by Prof. Rajiva Wijesinha

Another book that is part of a series, today—one that is fun without the brooding concentration on criminality in different forms that marks the Rebus novels. This one about the Thursday Murder Club, is a romp as its two predecessors were interspersed with deaths and what might be deaths.

The Bullet that Missed

begins with a meeting with the presenter of ‘South East Tonight’, a programme about the area, in which Coopers Chase is situated. The meeting is held because the club has decided to look into the murder of the producer’s assistant, Bethany Waites, whose car was found at the bottom of a cliff ten years ago. There was blood in it, but the body was never found.

Or, rather, the book begins with an account of Bethany Waites deciding, on the night she vanished, to meet someone in connection with a case of massive fraud that she had been investigating, after sending the producer, Mike Waghorn, a message that she had found new evidence though he had no idea what it was. The night she died, she sent him another message: “I don’t say this often enough, but thank you.”

CCTV cameras showed her leaving her place, but then the vehicle vanished, before being sighted near the cliff, with two people in it. Investigation of the fraud had led to the imprisonment of a woman, Heather Garbutt, though it proved impossible to pin anything on Jack Mason, the mastermind for whom she had worked.

The Club conducts investigations on several fronts, including through Connie Johnson, the drug dealer they had helped imprison in the earlier book. The psychiatrist Ibrahim, the most respectable member of the Club, interviews her in an attempt to get her to find out more from Heather, who is in the same prison as she. They also investigate the CCTV record of the night Bethany vanished, and deduce that she went to an apartment block and exited from its other side, and that is why she was not seen leaving the town. But some time had elapsed between her being seen in the town and then on the cliff.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth has been kidnapped, along with her husband, and taken to a house in Staffordshire, where she is told by a man called the Viking that she must kill a former KGB agent now in London, who has a profitable career in money laundering. The Viking tells her he will inform Viktor that she was responsible for stealing the diamonds, the story of which is told in the previous Murder Club Mystery, and Viktor will then kill her.

Elizabeth, who has an affair with Viktor, knows he will not kill her, but when the Viking says he will also send Viktor a picture of Joyce, she decides she must act, and goes to see Viktor, and fires when she gets him in the bathroom. But, of course, she fired into the ceiling, and Viktor is then taken to Coopers Chase, to stay with Joyce until they have dealt with the Viking. And Viktor then enjoys the camaraderie of the retirement home so much that he wonders whether he too should settle there.

Elizabeth does trace the Viking, or rather her husband does, for he has noticed rare books on the shelves in his library, and an antiquarian book dealer friend managed to find out who bought them. But before they could confront him, he comes to Coopers Chase, for he has seen the bullet hole in the bathroom of Viktor’s flat and realized he was fooled.

But he cannot bring himself to kill Joyce straight away, and she knocks him out with a drug in a cup of tea. When he meets Viktor, they both decide to fall in with the plans of the Club.

Before this, Heather has been found dead in her cell, with a note saying that ‘they’ were going to kill her, and only Connie could help. Before that she had admitted that she was frightened to name the man behind the fraud. Jack Mason said the same, after Ron had won his confidence. The Club had deduced by then that the body was buried in the garden of Heather’s house which Jack had bought, after she had been jailed, and digging reveals a gun and money, but no body. Jack tells them that the mastermind had said that Bethany was buried with a bullet with his DNA on it.

The Club is now working with the Chief Constable of Kent, Andrew Everton, who writes thrillers himself, but in the form of e-books. He is in search of a publisher, and delighted when Mike Waghorn puts him on his programme, as is Donna, who is substituted at the last minute for Chris.

The Club finds out whom Bethany visited in the apartment block—Mike’s assistant Pauline, who tells them later what she and Bethany had been doing. But this is after the man behind the fraud has been unmasked up in the house in Staffordshire, where he was trying to hire the Viking and Viktor to find the money that he had stashed away, using accounts that he could no longer trace. He has also confessed to murdering Bethany, hoping this will persuade the two money launderers to help him, but it turns out that he did not do this. Nor did he kill Heather, the incriminating note having been placed in her room by Connie, who decided that Heather’s suicide should be treated as murder so that the person who had been blackmailing her should be found out.

It was Jack Mason’s murder that was brought home to the crook. It turns out that Bethany, her appearance altered by Pauline, has vanished, to a new life in Dubai, where she has taken control of the missing millions. She has gone there because the threat, she received through the bullet she was looking at in the preamble, was to Mike and she wanted him out of danger.

Yet another whimsical conclusion to a whimsical book with enough loose ends left hanging for another sequel.