Features
Professional Challenges and the End of My Government Service
by Jayantha Perera
When I returned to Sri Lanka from Sussex in 1982, the Director of ARTI requested me to oversee farmer training programmes. He appointed me the first Editor of the Sri Lanka Journal of Agrarian Studies. I invited Prof B H Farmer of Cambridge University to write the inaugural article of the journal on changing scenarios of agrarian systems in Sri Lanka. He was a well-known expert on Sri Lanka’s Dry Zone agriculture. He was the author of Pioneer Peasant Colonization in Ceylon: A Study in Asian Agrarian Problems (1957). Farmer was the committee chairman who investigated the post-colonial development prospects of irrigated agriculture in the Dry Zone and contributed to revising and updating the Land Development Ordinance of 1935.
I soon realised that the ARTI needed a journal in Sinhala to publish articles on agrarian issues. I obtained the approval of the ARTI Board of Governors and funds for the journal. The Director asked me to be the Editor of the Sinhala journal as well. In a short period, I built an articles bank and published each journal bi-annually. As the Editor of the two journals, I cultivated several enemies when I refused to publish poor-quality papers in the journals. A professor at Colombo University submitted an unrevised conference paper, which I refused to accept. He complained against me to several ARTI Board members, requesting them to remove me from the editorship. At the same time, I found several ARTI colleagues were unhappy with my academic advancement and promotions. They first tried to destroy my reputation by circulating kala pattara (anonymous letters) and then openly confronting me on issues such as the frequency of journal publications and the quality of articles. A few informed the Ministry of Agriculture and Development that I conducted research according to my own agenda and published my friends’ papers in the journals, and the Director connived with me on such activities.
When the Director’s post at the ARTI became vacant, I saw an opportunity to further contribute to the institution as the most senior deputy director. I applied for the position, knowing it would be a significant step in my career. A friend of mine, the Director of Establishment at the Ministry of Home Affairs, advised me to meet the Hon. Minister to introduce myself as a candidate. He warned me that my chances of securing the Director’s post were slim without this meeting. He kindly arranged for me to meet the Minister.
My appointment with the Minister Gamani Jayasuriya was on a Tuesday. The Minister arrived at the Ministry of Agriculture and Development at 3 pm in a short-sleeved green shirt, a white pair of trousers and a well-polished pair of sandals. I saw an imported cigarette packet and a gold lighter in his right hand. He paused for a moment, smiled, and went inside his office. After half an hour, his private secretary called me into the Minister’s office. When I entered his large, cosy office, I saw the Minister going through papers with a lighted cigarette in his left hand. He smiled and beckoned me to sit down across the large table. I had my CV, two of my books and several papers that I had published. I kept them on the table. The Minister continued to review his documents without paying attention to me. About 20 minutes later, he smiled again and asked me in English in a very soft voice:
“How can I help you?”
“Sir, I am a candidate for the Director’s post at the ARTI, and I came to introduce myself”, I replied.
“When did you join the ARTI?” he wanted to know.
I told him, “About 15 years ago. At the ARTI, I am its most senior grade 1 researcher. I obtained my MA and PhD from Sussex University, and the ARTI assisted me in completing my higher studies.”
“How old are you?” he was keen to know.
“I am 36 years old, sir,” I told him.
“Hmm. 36 years, 36 years, 36 years. Hmm”. The Minister muttered something and continued to read his papers. After five minutes, he asked me, “Don’t you think you are too young for the position?”
“No, sir. I am the most senior researcher and joined ARTI at its inception.”
“Hmm, inception, inception, inception”, he repeated, focusing on his papers. He was looking for a paper, and suddenly, he pulled a large sheet from the bundle. I saw the President’s Seal on the paper; it was an approval letter from the President for him to travel abroad. He smiled and rang the bell. His secretary entered the room. The Minister told him to prepare the travel documents and handed over the letter.
Suddenly, he raised his head and addressed me: “You are only 36. If I appoint you as the Director of the ARTI, you might have to stay there another 25 years before retirement. You should not spend your entire life at the ARTI.”
“Yes, I agree. But why don’t you allow me to work five or 10 years at the ARTI as its Director? Then I may find another job elsewhere or go abroad,” I replied. He smiled again and started reading his papers. He stopped his reading and looked at my eyes without a smile.
“You are a young man. You must first experience the world. Travel, write more books, and enjoy life before taking over a boring additional burden,” the Minster advised.
“Sir, if I do not get the position, I may leave the ARTI,” I told him.
The Minister smiled again. “That is alright. I say you should go and see the world, do more research and teaching, and come back when you are about 50 years old. Then the government should be able to find a suitable job for you,” the Minister continued. His acceptance of my possibility of leaving the ARTI showed his understanding of my career aspirations.
He wanted to see the books and papers I kept on his table. He glanced through them, nodded, and said, “Thank you.”
I left the Minister’s office thinking I should leave ARTI as early as possible. Because I took study leave for three years, I signed an agreement to serve ARTI for twenty years, but I had served only seven years. I knew that ARTI would demand that I pay the value of the scholarships, although I worked out the scholarships through my own effort. Two days later, I withdrew my application for the director post at the ARTI.
The ARTI had become a more hostile place for me. One colleague requested the Director to investigate his complaint against me, saying that I had threatened him by walking into his office with another colleague. A formal investigation began with an Additional Secretary of the Ministry as the arbitrator. He knew me well. I told him that he was wasting his time being the arbitrator. I pointed out that my interest in staying at the ARTI was fast eroding.
The Additional Secretary was sad and told me he thought the inquiry would take us nowhere. He suspended the investigation. His brief report to the Board emphasised that the ARTI should do its best to keep its senior researchers, as it had invested enormous amounts of money and time in their postgraduate studies at good universities. Having worked on agrarian issues for several years and with higher qualifications, he pointed out they had become leading specialists in agricultural and agrarian fields. Therefore, it would be a disaster for ARTI to lose them in trivial matters.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was the appointment of a member of the Sri Lanka Administrative Service as the Director of the ARTI. He removed me from the post of Deputy Director and “promoted” me to the position of Research Associate with an annual salary increment. I was relieved not to have any administrative work and to be a full-time researcher.
The IDRC in Canada invited me to participate in one of its international conferences on ‘An Assessment of Technology and its Impact on Society’ in Ottawa. I got a telephone call from the Canadian Embassy requesting me to come to the embassy for an interview. The visa officer asked a few questions about my studies at Sussex University.
He remarked that the university was a hotbed of radical students and wanted to know my status. I told him that Sussex University was the best university to study development and other social issues such as poverty and gender. He hesitated for a few minutes and approved my visa. The IDRC workshop allowed me to meet outstanding scholars and establish contacts with some of them. I read a paper on agricultural mechanisation in Sri Lanka.
Soon after returning from Ottawa, the new Director of the ARTI asked me to ‘act’ for a Division Head who was on leave. I refused to do so. I told him to appoint a junior officer in the Division to act as the head. He informed the Board of Directors and filed a case of ‘insubordination’ against me. I wrote to the Board about my frustrations with the ARTI and the risks the Board had taken in appointing a person, such as its current Director, who needed training and experience to lead a team of researchers on agrarian matters. The Board told me it would not proceed with the Director’s complaint.
In early 1988, the Institute of Policy Studies (IPS) selected me as its first Senior Research Fellow. The same day, I submitted my resignation letter to the Director of the ARTI. He refused to accept it, but I left the letter on his desk, packed personal belongings, and said goodbye to friends at the ARTI. I left the ARTI with a great sense of relief and happiness. The chief peon cried when I said goodbye to him. I consoled him and told him, “One day, you too could become the Director of this institute if you play your cards right.”
As a ‘think-tank,’ the IPS had close links with the Ministry of Planning and the Treasury. At the IPS, my monthly salary increased tenfold. Two professors from the Institute of Social Studies of the Hague and a local research fellow were permanent employees of the IPS. Chandi Chanmugam was the first Director of the IPS. He allocated me a generous research budget and ample freedom to carve out an area for research. I chose rural employment in Sri Lanka, a topic I had mastered at the ARTI for 15 years.
Gamani Corea, Chair of the IPS Board of Governors, organised an international conference on Sri Lanka’s economy to launch the IPS research programme. I handled the section on rural economy and changes and read a paper on changing patterns of rural employment at the conference. Soon after the meeting, the IPS Director and the Chair of its Board encouraged me to start a mega research project on rural employment and agrarian change. I wrote a detailed proposal and obtained the approval of the IPS Board.
I could not move forward with my research programme. The ARTI Director had complained to the Ministry of Agriculture and Development that I left the ARTI without obtaining approval from the ARTI’s Board. He insisted that I should be returned to the ARTI. The Ministry wrote to the IPS about sending me back to the ARTI. The Ministry pointed out that the ARTI needed qualified researchers, and the IPS should only usurp scholars from other government agencies with their consent.
The IPS took the position that I had signed a contract with the IPS to carry out a research programme, and it had already spent money on its preparatory work. The Director of the IPS had requested the Minister of Finance to intervene and to retain me at the IPS. Discussions continued without an outcome. I resigned from the IPS after serving it for only eight months. I joined an American development agency called Development Alternatives Inc (DAI), which started a USAID project in the Mahaweli B region, saying goodbye to the government service.
Features
Making ‘Sinhala Studies’ globally relevant
On 8 January 2026, I delivered a talk at an event at the University of Colombo marking the retirement of my longtime friend and former Professor of Sinhala, Ananda Tissa Kumara and his appointment as Emeritus Professor of Sinhala in that university. What I said has much to do with decolonising social sciences and humanities and the contributions countries like ours can make to the global discourses of knowledge in these broad disciplines. I have previously discussed these issues in this column, including in my essay, ‘Does Sri Lanka Contribute to the Global Intellectual Expansion of Social Sciences and Humanities?’ published on 29 October 2025 and ‘Can Asians Think? Towards Decolonising Social Sciences and Humanities’ published on 31 December 2025.
At the recent talk, I posed a question that relates directly to what I have raised earlier but drew from a specific type of knowledge scholars like Prof Ananda Tissa Kumara have produced over a lifetime about our cultural worlds. I do not refer to their published work on Sinhala, Pali and Sanskrit languages, their histories or grammars; instead, their writing on various aspects of Sinhala culture. Erudite scholars familiar with Tamil sources have written extensively on Tamil culture in this same manner, which I will not refer to here.
To elaborate, let me refer to a several essays written by Professor Tissa Kumara over the years in the Sinhala language: 1) Aspects of Sri Lankan town planning emerging from Sinhala Sandesha poetry; 2) Health practices emerging from inscriptions of the latter part of the Anuradhapura period; 3) Buddhist religious background described in inscriptions of the Kandyan period; 4) Notions of aesthetic appreciation emerging from Sigiri poetry; 5) Rituals related to Sinhala clinical procedures; 6) Customs linked to marriage taboos in Sinhala society; 7) Food habits of ancient and medieval Lankans; and 8) The decline of modern Buddhist education. All these essays by Prof. Tissa Kumara and many others like them written by others remain untranslated into English or any other global language that holds intellectual power. The only exceptions would be the handful of scholars who also wrote in English or some of their works happened to be translated into English, an example of the latter being Prof. M.B. Ariyapala’s classic, Society in Medieval Ceylon.
The question I raised during my lecture was, what does one do with this knowledge and whether it is not possible to use this kind of knowledge profitably for theory building, conceptual and methodological fine-tuning and other such essential work mostly in the domain of abstract thinking that is crucially needed for social sciences and humanities. But this is not an interest these scholars ever entertained. Except for those who wrote fictionalised accounts such as unsubstantiated stories on mythological characters like Rawana, many of these scholars amassed detailed information along with their sources. This focus on sources is evident even in the titles of many of Prof. Tissa Kumara’s work referred to earlier. Rather than focusing on theorising or theory-based interpretations, these scholars’ aim was to collect and present socio-cultural material that is inaccessible to most others in society including people like myself. Either we know very little of such material or are completely unaware of their existence. But they are important sources of our collective history indicating what we are where we have come from and need to be seen as a specific genre of research.
In this sense, people like Prof. Tissa Kumara and his predecessors are human encyclopedias. But the knowledge they produced, when situated in the context of global knowledge production in general, remains mostly as ‘raw’ information albeit crucial. The pertinent question now is what do we do with this information? They can, of course, remain as it is. My argument however is this knowledge can be a serious source for theory-building and constructing philosophy based on a deeper understanding of the histories of our country and of the region and how people in these areas have dealt with the world over time.
Most scholars in our country and elsewhere in the region believe that the theoretical and conceptual apparatuses needed for our thinking – clearly manifest in social sciences and humanities – must necessarily be imported from the ‘west.’ It is this backward assumption, but specifically in reference to Indian experiences on social theory, that Prathama Banerjee and her colleagues observe in the following words: “theory appears as a ready-made body of philosophical thought, produced in the West …” As they further note, in this situation, “the more theory-inclined among us simply pick the latest theory off-the-shelf and ‘apply’ it to our context” disregarding its provincial European or North American origin, because of the false belief “that “‘theory’ is by definition universal.” What this means is that like in India, in countries like ours too, the “relationship to theory is dependent, derivative, and often deeply alienated.”
In a somewhat similar critique in his 2000 book, Provincialising Europe: Postcolonial Thought and Historical Difference Dipesh Chakrabarty points to the limitations of Western social sciences in explaining the historical experiences of political modernity in South Asia. He attempted to renew Western and particularly European thought “from and for the margins,” and bring in diverse histories from regions that were marginalised in global knowledge production into the mainstream discourse of knowledge. In effect, this means making histories of countries like ours relevant in knowledge production.
The erroneous and blind faith in the universality of theory is evident in our country too whether it is the unquestioned embrace of modernist theories and philosophies or their postmodern versions. The heroes in this situation generally remain old white men from Marx to Foucault and many in between. This indicates the kind of unhealthy dependence local discourses of theory owe to the ‘west’ without any attempt towards generating serious thinking on our own.
In his 2002 essay, ‘Dismal State of Social Sciences in Pakistan,’ Akbar Zaidi points out how Pakistani social scientists blindly apply imported “theoretical arguments and constructs to Pakistani conditions without questioning, debating or commenting on the theory itself.” Similarly, as I noted in my 2017 essay, ‘Reclaiming Social Sciences and Humanities: Notes from South Asia,’ Sri Lankan social sciences and humanities have “not seriously engaged in recent times with the dominant theoretical constructs that currently hold sway in the more academically dominant parts of the world.” Our scholars also have not offered any serious alternate constructions of their own to the world without going crudely nativistic or exclusivist.
This situation brings me back to the kind of knowledge that scholars like Prof. Tissa Kumara have produced. Philosophy, theory or concepts generally emerge from specific historical and temporal conditions. Therefore, they are difficult to universalise or generalise without serious consequences. This does not mean that some ideas would not have universal applicability with or without minor fine tuning. In general, however, such bodies of abstract knowledge should ideally be constructed with reference to the histories and contemporary socio-political circumstances
from where they emerge that may have applicability to other places with similar histories. This is what Banerjee and her colleagues proposed in their 2016 essay, ‘The Work of Theory: Thinking Across Traditions’. This is also what decolonial theorists such as Walter Mignolo, Enrique Dussel and Aníbal Quijano have referred to as ‘decolonizing Western epistemology’ and ‘building decolonial epistemologies.’
My sense is, scholars like Prof. Tissa Kumara have amassed at least some part of such knowledge that can be used for theory-building that has so far not been used for this purpose. Let me refer to two specific examples that have local relevance which will place my argument in context. Historian and political scientist Benedict Anderson argued in his influential 1983 book, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism that notions of nationalism led to the creation of nations or, as he calls them, ‘imagined communities.’ For him, unlike many others, European nation states emerged in response to the rise of ‘nationalism’ in the overseas European settlements, especially in the Western Hemisphere. But it was still a form of thinking that had Europe at its center.
Comparatively, we can consider Stephen Kemper’s 1991 book, The Presence of the Past: Chronicles, Politics, and Culture in Sinhala Life where the American anthropologist explored the ways in which Sinhala ‘national’ identity evolved over time along with a continual historical consciousness because of the existence of texts such as Mahawamsa. In other words, the Sinhala past manifests with social practices that have continued from the ancient past among which are chronicle-keeping, maintaining sacred places, and venerating heroes.
In this context, his argument is that Sinhala nationalism predates the rise of nationalist movements in Europe by over a thousand years, thereby challenging the hegemonic arguments such as those of Anderson, Ernest Gellner, Elie Kedourie and others who link nationalism as a modern phenomenon impacted by Europe in some way or another. Kemper was able to come to his interpretation by closely reading Lankan texts such as Mahawamsa and other Pali chronicles and more critically, theorizing what is in these texts. Such interpretable material is what has been presented by Prof. Tissa Kumara and others, sans the sing.
Similarly, local texts in Sinhala such as kadaim poth’ and vitti poth, which are basically narratives of local boundaries and descriptions of specific events written in the Dambadeniya and Kandyan periods are replete with crucial information. This includes local village and district boundaries, the different ethno-cultural groups that lived in and came to settle in specific places in these kingdoms, migratory events, wars and so on. These texts as well as European diplomatic dispatches and political reports from these times, particularly during the Kandyan period, refer to the cosmopolitanism in the Kandyan kingdom particularly its court, the military, town planning and more importantly the religious tolerance which even surprised the European observers and latter-day colonial rulers. Again, much of this comes from local sources or much less focused upon European dispatches of the time.
Scholars like Prof. Tissa Kumara have collected this kind of information as well as material from much older times and sources. What would the conceptual categories, such as ethnicity, nationalism, cosmopolitanism be like if they are reinterpreted or cast anew through these histories, rather than merely following their European and North American intellectual and historical slants which is the case at present? Among the questions we can ask are, whether these local idiosyncrasies resulted from Buddhism or local cultural practices we may not know much about at present but may exist in inscriptions, in ola leaf manuscripts or in other materials collected and presented by scholars such as Prof. Tissa Kumara.
For me, familiarizing ourselves with this under- and unused archive and employing them for theory-building as well as for fine-tuning what already exists is the main intellectual role we can play in taking our cultural knowledge to the world in a way that might make sense beyond the linguistic and socio-political borders of our country. Whether our universities and scholars are ready to attempt this without falling into the trap of crude nativisms, be satisfied with what has already been collected, but is untheorized or if they would rather lackadaisically remain shackled to ‘western’ epistemologies in the sense articulated by decolonial theorists remains to be seen.
Features
Extinction in isolation: Sri Lanka’s lizards at the climate crossroads
Climate change is no longer a distant or abstract threat to Sri Lanka’s biodiversity. It is already driving local extinctions — particularly among lizards trapped in geographically isolated habitats, where even small increases in temperature can mean the difference between survival and disappearance.
According to research by Buddhi Dayananda, Thilina Surasinghe and Suranjan Karunarathna, Sri Lanka’s narrowly distributed lizards are among the most vulnerable vertebrates in the country, with climate stress intensifying the impacts of habitat loss, fragmentation and naturally small population sizes.
Isolation Turns Warming into an Extinction Trap
Sri Lanka’s rugged topography and long geological isolation have produced extraordinary levels of reptile endemism. Many lizard species are confined to single mountains, forest patches or rock outcrops, existing nowhere else on Earth. While this isolation has driven evolution, it has also created conditions where climate change can rapidly trigger extinction.
“Lizards are especially sensitive to environmental temperature because their metabolism, activity patterns and reproduction depend directly on external conditions,” explains Suranjan Karunarathna, a leading herpetologist and co-author of the study. “When climatic thresholds are exceeded, geographically isolated species cannot shift their ranges. They are effectively trapped.”
The study highlights global projections indicating that nearly 40 percent of local lizard populations could disappear in coming decades, while up to one-fifth of all lizard species worldwide may face extinction by 2080 if current warming trends persist.
- Cnemaspis_gunawardanai (Adult Female), Pilikuttuwa, Gampaha District
- Cnemaspis_ingerorum (Adult Male), Sithulpauwa, Hambantota District
- Cnemaspis_hitihamii (Adult Female), Maragala, Monaragala District
- Cnemaspis_gunasekarai (Adult Male), Ritigala, Anuradapura District
- Cnemaspis_dissanayakai (Adult Male), Dimbulagala, Polonnaruwa District
- Cnemaspis_kandambyi (Adult Male), Meemure, Matale District
Heat Stress, Energy Loss and Reproductive Failure
Rising temperatures force lizards to spend more time in shelters to avoid lethal heat, reducing their foraging time and energy intake. Over time, this leads to chronic energy deficits that undermine growth and reproduction.
“When lizards forage less, they have less energy for breeding,” Karunarathna says. “This doesn’t always cause immediate mortality, but it slowly erodes populations.”
Repeated exposure to sub-lethal warming has been shown to increase embryonic mortality, reduce hatchling size, slow post-hatch growth and compromise body condition. In species with temperature-dependent sex determination, warming can skew sex ratios, threatening long-term population viability.
“These impacts often remain invisible until populations suddenly collapse,” Karunarathna warns.
Tropical Species with No Thermal Buffer
The research highlights that tropical lizards such as those in Sri Lanka are particularly vulnerable because they already live close to their physiological thermal limits. Unlike temperate species, they experience little seasonal temperature variation and therefore possess limited behavioural or evolutionary flexibility to cope with rapid warming.
“Even modest temperature increases can have severe consequences in tropical systems,” Karunarathna explains. “There is very little room for error.”
Climate change also alters habitat structure. Canopy thinning, tree mortality and changes in vegetation density increase ground-level temperatures and reduce the availability of shaded refuges, further exposing lizards to heat stress.
Narrow Ranges, Small Populations
Many Sri Lankan lizards exist as small, isolated populations restricted to narrow altitudinal bands or specific microhabitats. Once these habitats are degraded — through land-use change, quarrying, infrastructure development or climate-driven vegetation loss — entire global populations can vanish.
“Species confined to isolated hills and rock outcrops are especially at risk,” Karunarathna says. “Surrounding human-modified landscapes prevent movement to cooler or more suitable areas.”
Even protected areas offer no guarantee of survival if species occupy only small pockets within reserves. Localised disturbances or microclimatic changes can still result in extinction.
Climate Change Amplifies Human Pressures
The study emphasises that climate change will intensify existing human-driven threats, including habitat fragmentation, land-use change and environmental degradation. Together, these pressures create extinction cascades that disproportionately affect narrowly distributed species.
“Climate change acts as a force multiplier,” Karunarathna explains. “It worsens the impacts of every other threat lizards already face.”
Without targeted conservation action, many species may disappear before they are formally assessed or fully understood.
Science Must Shape Conservation Policy
Researchers stress the urgent need for conservation strategies that recognise micro-endemism and climate vulnerability. They call for stronger environmental impact assessments, climate-informed land-use planning and long-term monitoring of isolated populations.
“We cannot rely on broad conservation measures alone,” Karunarathna says. “Species that exist in a single location require site-specific protection.”
The researchers also highlight the importance of continued taxonomic and ecological research, warning that extinction may outpace scientific discovery.
A Vanishing Evolutionary Legacy
Sri Lanka’s lizards are not merely small reptiles hidden from view; they represent millions of years of unique evolutionary history. Their loss would be irreversible.
“Once these species disappear, they are gone forever,” Karunarathna says. “Climate change is moving faster than our conservation response, and isolation means there are no second chances.”
By Ifham Nizam ✍️
Features
Online work compatibility of education tablets
Enabling Education-to-Income Pathways through Dual-Use Devices
The deployment of tablets and Chromebook-based devices for emergency education following Cyclone Ditwah presents an opportunity that extends beyond short-term academic continuity. International experience demonstrates that the same category of devices—when properly governed and configured—can support safe, ethical, and productive online work, particularly for youth and displaced populations. This annex outlines the types of online jobs compatible with such devices, their technical limitations, and their strategic national value within Sri Lanka’s recovery and human capital development agenda.
Compatible Categories of Online Work
At the foundational level, entry-level digital jobs are widely accessible through Android tablets and Chromebook devices. These roles typically require basic digital literacy, language comprehension, and sustained attention rather than advanced computing power. Common examples include data tagging and data validation tasks, AI training activities such as text, image, or voice labelling, online surveys and structured research tasks, digital form filling, and basic transcription work. These activities are routinely hosted on Google task-based platforms, global AI crowdsourcing systems, and micro-task portals operated by international NGOs and UN agencies. Such models have been extensively utilised in countries including India, the Philippines, Kenya, and Nepal, particularly in post-disaster and low-income contexts.
At an intermediate level, freelance and gig-based work becomes viable, especially when Chromebook tablets such as the Lenovo Chromebook Duet or Acer Chromebook Tab are used with detachable keyboards. These devices are well suited for content writing and editing, Sinhala–Tamil–English translation work, social media management, Canva-based design assignments, and virtual assistant roles. Chromebooks excel in this domain because they provide full browser functionality, seamless integration with Google Docs and Sheets (including offline drafting and later (synchronization), reliable file upload capabilities, and stable video conferencing through platforms such as Google Meet or Zoom. Freelancers across Southeast Asia and Africa already rely heavily on Chromebook-class devices for such work, demonstrating their suitability in bandwidth- and power-constrained environments.
A third category involves remote employment and structured part-time work, which is also feasible on Chromebook tablets when paired with a keyboard and headset. These roles include online tutoring support, customer service through chat or email, research assistance, and entry-level digital bookkeeping. While such work requires a more consistent internet connection—often achievable through mobile hotspots—it does not demand high-end hardware. The combination of portability, long battery life, and browser-based platforms makes these devices adequate for such employment models.
Functional Capabilities and Limitations
It is important to clearly distinguish what these devices can and cannot reasonably support. Tablets and Chromebooks are highly effective for web-based jobs, Google Workspace-driven tasks, cloud platforms, online interviews conducted via Zoom or Google Meet, and the use of digital wallets and electronic payment systems. However, they are not designed for heavy video editing, advanced software development environments, or professional engineering and design tools such as AutoCAD. This limitation does not materially reduce their relevance, as global labour market data indicate that approximately 70–75 per cent of online work worldwide is browser-based and fully compatible with tablet-class devices.
Device Suitability for Dual Use
Among commonly deployed devices, the Chromebook Duet and Acer Chromebook Tab offer the strongest balance between learning and online work, making them the most effective all-round options. Android tablets such as the Samsung Galaxy Tab A8 or A9 and the Nokia T20 also perform reliably when supplemented with keyboards, with the latter offering particularly strong battery endurance. Budget-oriented devices such as the Xiaomi Redmi Pad remain suitable for learning and basic work tasks, though with some limitations in sustained productivity. Across all device types, battery efficiency remains a decisive advantage.
Power and Energy Considerations
In disaster-affected and power-scarce environments, tablets outperform conventional laptops. A battery life of 10–12 hours effectively supports a full day of online work or study. Offline drafting of documents with later synchronisation further reduces dependence on continuous connectivity. The use of solar chargers and power banks can extend operational capacity significantly, making these devices particularly suitable for temporary shelters and community learning hubs.
Payment and Income Feasibility in the Sri Lankan Context
From a financial inclusion perspective, these devices are fully compatible with commonly used payment systems. Platforms such as PayPal (within existing national constraints), Payoneer, Wise, LankaQR, local banking applications, and NGO stipend mechanisms are all accessible through Android and ChromeOS environments. Notably, many Sri Lankan freelancers already conduct income-generating activities entirely via mobile devices, confirming the practical feasibility of tablet-based earning.
Strategic National Value
The dual use of tablets for both education and income generation carries significant strategic value for Sri Lanka. It helps prevent long-term dependency by enabling families to rebuild livelihoods, creates structured earning pathways for youth, and transforms disaster relief interventions into resilience-building investments. This approach supports a human resource management–driven recovery model rather than a welfare-dependent one. It aligns directly with the outcomes sought by the Ministry of Education, the Ministry of Labour and HRM reform initiatives, and broader national productivity and competitiveness goals.
Policy Positioning under the Vivonta / PPA Framework
Within the Vivonta/Proprietary Planters Alliance national response framework, it is recommended that these devices be formally positioned as “Learning + Livelihood Tablets.” This designation reflects their dual public value and supports a structured governance approach. Devices should be configured with dual profiles—Student and Worker—supplemented by basic digital job readiness modules, clear ethical guidance on online work, and safeguards against exploitation, particularly for vulnerable populations.
Performance Indicators
From a monitoring perspective, the expected reach of such an intervention is high, encompassing students, youth, and displaced adults. The anticipated impact is very high, as it directly enables the transition from education to income generation. Confidence in the approach is high due to extensive global precedent, while the required effort remains moderate, centering primarily on training, coordination, and platform curation rather than capital-intensive investment.
We respectfully invite the Open University of Sri Lanka, Derana, Sirasa, Rupavahini, DP Education, and Janith Wickramasinghe, National Online Job Coach, to join hands under a single national banner—
“Lighting the Dreams of Sri Lanka’s Emerging Leaders.”
by Lalin I De Silva, FIPM (SL) ✍️
-
Business2 days agoKoaloo.Fi and Stredge forge strategic partnership to offer businesses sustainable supply chain solutions
-
Business6 days agoDialog and UnionPay International Join Forces to Elevate Sri Lanka’s Digital Payment Landscape
-
News6 days agoSajith: Ashoka Chakra replaces Dharmachakra in Buddhism textbook
-
Editorial1 day agoThe Chakka Clash
-
Features6 days agoThe Paradox of Trump Power: Contested Authoritarian at Home, Uncontested Bully Abroad
-
Features6 days agoSubject:Whatever happened to (my) three million dollars?
-
Business2 days agoSLT MOBITEL and Fintelex empower farmers with the launch of Yaya Agro App
-
Features1 day agoOnline work compatibility of education tablets







