Features
Using maths to combat COVID-19
‘The pandemic has now reached a level in which no human can make an optimal decision without the aid of a computer. Therefore, we need to start working on quantitative models to identify optimal decisions, instead of pointing fingers for not making proper decisions, when decision making is literally beyond the capacity of a human.’ – Senior Lecturer, Department of Mathematics, University of Colombo,
Dr. Anuradha Mahasinghe
by Sajitha Prematunge
What has math got to do with a pandemic? At the outset, it might seem the two are completely unrelated. One has only to observe that the number of infected in certain districts is higher than that of others and making informed decisions based on those numbers could mean the difference between stifling a cluster and a full-blown third wave. Senior Lecturer, Department of Mathematics, University of Colombo, Dr. Anuradha Mahasinghe knows only too well how important the numbers are in combating COVID-19. This is why, in June, he and his colleagues proposed an optimization model, aimed at minimizing the damage to the economy, while confining the COVID-19 incidence to a level endurable by the available healthcare capacity in the country, while their compartment model projected COVID-19 transmission. Their study investigated the effectiveness of the control process with the aid of epidemiological models.
Epidemiological models
Mahasinghe explained that an epidemiological model is a model that simulates and describes an epidemic. “Modelling is essential if you want to describe a phenomenon. From the spin of an electron to the rotation of the heavenly bodies, these phenomena are understood with the aid of models. It is the models that help us describe the changes in economies and fall of financial markets,” said Mahasinghe. And pandemics are no exception. He explained that an epidemiological model, based on a reasonable theory and supported by evidence, is a collection of entities and their operations, that when put together simulate and describe an epidemic, which provides important insights into the transmission of the disease.
But how does maths factor comes in when dealing with a pandemic such as COVID-19? Mahasinghe pointed out that math is inevitable whenever dealing with numbers or quantities. “Aren’t we really sensitive to numbers in this COVID era more than ever? Every person is anxious to know the numbers of reported cases and deaths.” One might say the numbers are governing us because decisions are also made based on these numbers. However, these numbers are only the smoke, warns Mahasinghe. “One should be able to make a better decision if he sees the fire. Therefore, to make the best decisions during the pandemic you have to look into a mathematical model that can best describe the phenomenon.”
Numbers may govern us but what governs the numbers? According to Mahasinghe, this can only be uncovered by a model that captures the quantitative aspects of the pandemic. “It’s what we call a mathematical model which provides us with an explanation to the occurrence of these numbers.” Such a model can also forecast how these numbers are going to change in the future.
But how credible are these models? Hopefully, they are nothing like the local weather forecast. “Such models are based upon very fundamental and well-accepted laws in nature such as energy conservation, which cannot be falsified,” reiterated Mahasinghe. “Such models are supported and validated by empirical evidence. People use such models very often to make decisions in industry to make profit. So, why not look into the numbers and the math behind them to make optimal decisions accordingly, in a pandemic scenario?”
Where we went wrong
When asked where Sri Lanka went wrong in attempting to contain the pandemic, Mahasinghe said, “I guess we didn’t see the fire, we only saw the smoke. More precisely, we didn’t pay enough attention to the transmission dynamics or to optimal decision making. We were able to make some good decisions in a qualitative sense, but I seriously doubt we had the insight to make quantitatively sound decisions.” He pointed out that even when the decisions were made, the outcome could not be predicted due to a lack of a mechanism to forecast.
When asked whether the authorities were too quick to lift the lockdown, Mahasinghe answered in the negative. “I don’t think it was too early. Lifting strict lockdowns was essential at that moment. We were struggling to achieve two conflicting goals; containing the disease and sustaining the economy. Stepping down from strict curfew to partial lockdowns is indeed a good decision in such a context.” But was it methodical? Was there a mechanism to decide on the nature of the partial lockdowns? Did we know how to optimally restrict mobility in order to achieve those conflicting goals? Did we know to what extent the lockdown of a district should be optimally eased? Did we estimate the potential increase in positive cases from a district when its lockdown would be relaxed? Did we know the magnitude of the economic loss caused by shutting down a region? These are questions Marasinghe believes that authorities should have paid attention to, when easing the lockdown.
“Lockdowns could have been relaxed with the aid of proper optimization models capable of providing answers to these questions.” He repeated that such models are used very often in industrial decision making and provide promising solutions. “You can’t bring the COVID incidence down to zero even with such models, but at least you know what’s going on and the effectiveness of a decision so the health sector can take relevant measures.
According to Mahasinghe, authorities have overlooked the significance of data. “Even now I don’t think enough attention is paid to data.” According to him, some important data were not gathered. For example, he pointed out that, despite Western Province residents being advised against crossing borders, some invariably did, as there were no strict rules against it. “There is no point in regretting the fact, but we could have counted the number of vehicles that crossed the borders and used it to estimate the impact on transmission.”
He explained that the entire country can be regarded as an epidemiological network, where the nodes are the cities and the interconnections are the roads. “There are elegant models in network theory to gain many insights into transmission through such a network.” He also noted another pertinent issue, that even if data were gathered, they were not used. “Much effort was made to gather and organize COVID related data such as incidence per region etc, and that is really commendable. However, have we used them; what were the insights we gained into transmission from them except for some trivial speculations?” questions Mahasinghe. He reiterated that such insights can only be gained through an extensive study that involves the collaboration between mathematicians, computer scientists, epidemiologists and economists. “The mathematician’s part alone includes exhaustive algorithmic development and computational modelling challenges,” explained Mahasinghe.
Criteria
When asked what factors were taken into consideration in their optimization model, Mahasinghe reminded that a delicate balance must be struck between two conflicting goals. “We need to find the optimal compromise between containing the disease and sustaining the economy. As a developing country, we can’t afford beyond a certain level of the control process, so budgetary constraints must be considered.” It is obvious that COVID-19 is transmitted through human mobility. He pointed out that, consequently, inter-regional travel plays a significant role. “On the other hand, transmission dynamics can be modelled to a certain extent by well-known compartment models. However, human mobility affects the compartments and the relevant model has to be moderated accordingly to reflect that reality.” The optimization model considers all factors, such as medical capacity to deal with the pandemic, economic concerns, transmission dynamics, regional contribution to the economy, and generates a lockdown relaxation strategy that keeps the level of incidence below a desired threshold, while minimizing damage to the economy.
However, Mahasinghe pointed out that this was a prototype and it can be made closer to reality by incorporating more constraints. “For instance, I haven’t considered the fact that most agricultural activities are done in the North Central province. But, if required, that too can be incorporated without difficulty.” According to him epidemiologists and economists can introduce more constraints to the optimization model, and the applied mathematician’s job is to overcome the computational challenges posed by incorporating them.
Relevant?
There is no point in closing the stable doors after the horse has bolted. Months after the lifting of the lockdown are such models even relevant? “The compartment model that captures the transmission of COVID-19 is still applicable, irrespective of any lockdowns, unless it is quite certain that there is absolutely no community transmission. I think we were in such a stage only at the very beginning of the first wave,” said Mahasinghe. According to him, the network-based model that captures human mobility is also applicable irrespective of lockdowns or any other preventive measures. In contrast to these, the optimization model is applicable in its existing form only when lockdowns are in force. “Having said that, this model may still be useful with some changes in the present context where small regions are isolated. For instance, a slightly changed variant of that model can determine which areas should undergo isolation. Moreover, it is possible to modify the optimization model further to be used in the process of making decisions on identifying the persons to be quarantined.”
Human mobility is a critical factor in the spread of a pandemic as well as any models targeted at managing such, how could a mathematical model factor this in? “Not only COVID-19 but even dengue is transmitted mainly due to human mobility. A mosquito doesn’t travel very far during its lifetime. Humans are more responsible for carrying diseases.” Mahasinghe pointed out that COVID-19 is not very different. “If you know the way humans move from place to place, and also know the level of incidence in each place, it is not that difficult to model how the disease is transmitted through humans.” He observed that most preventive measures are also focused on restricting human mobility, which he deemed commendable. “A mathematical model can prescribe the optimal way to restrict mobility.”
What are the implications of mobility? For example are people of certain districts more inclined to travel and therefore may contribute more to the spread of the disease and are such implications reflected in the numbers? “As long as the model is deterministic and you can overcome the computational challenges by necessary algorithm development, closed-form and conclusive solutions can be generated.” Mahasinghe implied that math helps to see the big picture. “Consequences of travel from the Western to other provinces is obvious. However, considering the transport network, Southern and North Western Provinces are also at high risk.” He observed that less attention has been paid to those regions. This begs the question, are the Southern and North Western provinces a time bomb waiting to go kaboom? He reiterated that special attention must be paid to regions that are relatively less danger, such as North Central, which contributes significantly to economic growth, as the Western province is not capable of contributing to the economy in its full capacity. “It is important to keep the incidence at a low level in such places.”
The study predicted that easing lockdown in the Western Province would have adverse repercussions. “As long as vehicles cross inter-provincial barriers, the disease is transmitted to those regions. But in what magnitude? We had access to certain transport data, so we knew to a certain extent how people would mobilise within the country. Also the epidemiological data were available. So we had enough inputs to be fed into our algorithm.” The results were appalling. In fact, this computer experimentation was done in the early days when Sri Lanka was hit by the first wave and there were no strict measures to curtail inter-provincial mobility. During the days in question, Mahasinghe ranked the provinces according to their vulnerability to COVID-19, using another model, by adopting some ideas from network theory. Recently, upon perusing a map that indicated the countrywide spread of the disease Mahasinghe came to realize that the ranking has been validated, eventually. “What I don’t understand is why we failed to foresee this.”
Mahasinghe and his team had access to certain transport data, such as the number of buses, trains and bus routes. However, his models were prototypes. To make the prediction more accurate they would need current transport data, such as the number of private vehicles crossing provincial borders. “There are a number of police barriers between borders, so a vehicle count would not be impossible. If health planners are willing to use that type of model, these could be extremely valuable datasets.”
Quantifying the qualitative
In their model they quantify the degree of social distancing. But can criteria so human in nature be quantified? Moreover, how can something as complex as a pandemic, with so many variables, human in nature, be simplified into ones and zeroes? Mahasinghe maintained that it is possible to estimate the degree of social distancing observed, if provided with sufficient data. “I understand that it sounds quite unrealistic. It is because we think of individuals.” Mahasinghe emphasised the importance of noting that they are not modelling an individual, but rather a population. “Though a population consists of individuals, the dynamics of the population is not merely the sum of the dynamics of an individual. When you single out a person, the behaviour of that person is surely very uncertain and unpredictable. Take two persons, they may have certain things in common, so it is not that unpredictable. If you take a thousand people, a lot of commonalities can be extracted and the situation becomes predictable now.” He explained that, therefore, it is possible to assign a value to the degree of distancing with the aid of necessary data.
“Interestingly, it is true that we mathematicians seek certainty in an uncertain world. However, an event that looks uncertain from one point of view looks certain from another.” The toss of a coin is a simple example. “If you toss a coin, the outcome of it being head or tail is widely believed to be uncertain. However, it is the lack of data that makes it uncertain. Suppose the initial speed, the weight, the angle of projection and such were provided, then the outcome may be predictable by basic equations of motion.” Mahasinghe emphasised that math does not guarantee elimination of uncertainty. “That is definitely not the direction the mathematical sciences are moving, specially with the recent developments in quantum physics and unconventional computing. However, where macroscopic events like pandemics or human behaviour are concerned, there are many certainties that we misinterpret under the cover of uncertainty due to our lack of knowledge, eventually missing an opportunity to gain crucial insights into the scenario.”
Mahasinghe pointed out that many decisions are binary in nature. Let alone policy decisions, many behavioural decisions are inherently binary. “For instance, you may decide whether to wear a mask or not. So the one-zero nature of the action is inherent and not artificially imposed by a mathematician.” He further explained that some non-binary decisions can still be quantified. “For instance, if you decide to wear the mask on three days and go unmasked on four days of the week, it can be quantified using numbers and interpreted using probability.” Mahasinghe elaborated that, with recent developments in non deterministic models, applied mathematicians do not hesitate to incorporate uncertainty. “Consequently, uncertainty is no longer immeasurable. It is possible to confine uncertainty of the solution within reasonable limits.
What next
With all the talk on vaccination, Mahasinghe emphasised the importance of developing two mathematical models prior to vaccination. The first is a compartment model that explains the post-vaccination dynamics of the disease. “This is pretty standard in mathematical epidemiology. The second, developing a model to capture the effects of the interactions between individuals and predict the outcomes, is subtler and challenging.” He explained that once a phase of vaccination is over, persons in society can be divided into two categories: vaccinated and unvaccinated. “Take a random encounter between two persons. What type of interaction would it be? Is it a vaccinated encountering another vaccinated, an unvaccinated encountering another unvaccinated or a vaccinated encountering an unvaccinated? Obviously, the consequences of these encounters are essentially different.”
The discipline of mathematics referred to as game theory is a promising tool in modelling this type of scenario and forecasting the outcomes. In addition, once vaccination commences, there will be the issue of free riding. Due to different reasons, some people in the high risk category will also choose to remain unvaccinated, eventually resulting in a significant number of potential free riders. Mahasinghe explained that this has already been addressed in the game theory in particular, under evolutionary games. “As a nation we can’t be content with an elementary formula for herd immunity. Instead, we need to develop and upgrade elegant vaccination strategies using compartment models and game theory.” Mahasinghe is of the view that, in this pre-vaccination phase, these two are the immediate concerns that need to be addressed by applied mathematicians.
Benefits
When asked what are the drawbacks of not using a mathematical model are and the benefits of using one, Mahasinghe pointed out that in a scenario of conflicting goals and monetary restrictions, it is impossible to make decisions without seeing where the optimal compromise is. “It is easy to put the blame on politicians and other policy makers for not making the right decisions, but how can a human make an optimal decision in this entangled web of parameters, conflicting goals and constraints? Plainly speaking, we need computers to generate the best decisions for us.” That’s indeed what the computers are intended to do primarily, according to Mahasinghe, although they are more frequently used to watch YouTube videos and log into Facebook!
But to perform the intended task using a computer, models and algorithms that can be read by the computer must be created. “That’s why you need to look into optimization, mathematical programming, computational modelling and game theory. This way, you may be able to keep the numbers within certain limits. Also, you can pre-assess a decision quantitatively. Our health workers and armed forces have already committed much and continue to do so and to receive the full benefit of their commitments, the willingness to switch from qualitative to quantitative methods, is essential.
When asked if such models are used successfully in other countries to counter the pandemic, Mahasinghe answered in the affirmative. Since the very beginning, an extensive mathematical modelling process has been done and that’s how the predictions were made. In fact, vaccination models had long been applied to control epidemics even in African countries. In Sri Lanka, there are many misconceptions about mathematical models.” Mahasinghe has observed certain non-mathematicians presenting elementary regressions, numerical approximations and statistical tests, erroneously referring to them as mathematical models.
“Perhaps that’s why some policy makers have lost faith in math. As mentioned earlier, a mathematical model is based on an unfalsifiable conservation law. It cannot be compared to a trivial curve fitting cakewalk. Our people get easily carried away by exotic words. People tend to admire words like machine learning, artificial intelligence and such, but how many are aware of the maths behind these words?” He observed that a closer examination of news reports on machine learning or AI being used in some country to counter the pandemic, would reveal that they are mathematical models and machine learning techniques are used due to the toughness of generating a closed-form solution. “Even to apply computational heuristics, the problem has to be formulated mathematically. Correct problem formulation is a major component of a so-called AI-powered decision.
Mahasinghe explained that the subject of operations research emerged in the new industrial era to enable industrial decision making using computers, as the number of industrial parameters exceeded human ability to process. “The pandemic has now reached this level so that no human can make an optimal decision without the aid of a computer. Therefore, we need to start working on quantitative models to identify optimal decisions, instead of pointing fingers for not making proper decisions, when decision making is literally beyond the capacity of a human.”
Features
From the missing to the missing truth and beyond
by Jehan Perera
The government is preparing to meet the challenge of the UN Human Rights Council next month. A Sri Lankan delegation led by Foreign Minister Vijitha Herath is expected to attend the 63rd session of the UNHRC in Geneva, where the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights will present a written update on Sri Lanka. The government has already submitted its response to the advance version of the report prepared by the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights. The Foreign Minister, accompanied by officials from Colombo and Sri Lanka’s Permanent Mission in Geneva, is expected to explain the progress made on reconciliation, accountability and human rights. This is therefore an important moment for the government. It is an opportunity not merely to defend its record but to make new commitments.
The government has been criticised, as were its predecessors, for the manner in which it has dealt with past human rights violations, especially those connected with the thirty year war. The vexed issue of thousands of missing persons remains at the centre of this criticism. The government has sought to strengthen the Office on Missing Persons by providing it with additional staff and resources. It has also given support to the excavations at the Chemmani mass grave. Justice and National Integration Minister Harshana Nanayakkara has told Parliament that the government has allocated Rs. 57 million for the excavations and related legal work, though that figure has not been set against the cost of comparable forensic operations elsewhere.
The government also took the significant step of holding a national event in Jaffna to mark the International Day of the Victims of Enforced Disappearances. Minister Harshana Nanayakkara attended the event together with the Chairman of the Office on Missing Persons (OMP), Mahesh Katulanda, and other senior officials and political representatives. Their presence was meant to demonstrate the government’s commitment to addressing the issue. But on the victims’ side there is continuing dissatisfaction. The commemoration in Jaffna was met by a protest outside the District Secretariat, organised by families of the disappeared, who demanded to know what happened to relatives who, according to their accounts, surrendered to or were taken away by the military and were never heard from again.
Jaffna Protests
The protests in Jaffna are a reminder of the gap that remains between what the government is trying to do and what the victims expect. For these families, compensation and death certificates are not substitutes for knowing what actually happened to those they lost. The protests, and the police action taken against some of those who demonstrated, were reported by the international and Tamil media and by international human rights organisations, and overshadowed much of what the government had hoped to showcase at the Jaffna event. The OMP’s mandate is to establish the fate and whereabouts of missing persons, clarify the circumstances in which they went missing, and provide redress and assistance to their families. Accordingly, it has sought to verify complaints, remove duplicate entries, encourage people who have not yet made complaints to come forward, and facilitate compensation and other forms of assistance. The families of victims expect the OMP to do more to clarify the circumstances in which their loved ones went missing. An example would be the disappearance of 158 displaced Tamil persons from the Eastern University campus in Vantharumoolai, Batticaloa District, who were rounded up and forcibly removed in front of thousands of other similarly displaced persons, including the officer in charge Prof T Jayasingam.
The government has also increased the support available to families of the missing, and says it is accelerating the OMP’s investigations. But the scale of what remains undone is stark. There are around 11,000 complaints remaining to be investigated, according to the Justice Minister, while the OMP has reported that final information has been established in only 31 cases, communicated privately to the families concerned. On the government’s own figures, that puts the clearance rate for establishing fate and whereabouts at well under one percent of the outstanding caseload. There is a limit to what the OMP can do even with more resources and time. Its mandate is primarily to establish the fate and whereabouts of individual missing persons. It was not intended to produce the comprehensive, public account of the past that victims and the country as a whole require.
In 2015, the government headed by President Maithripala Sirisena and Prime Minister Ranil Wickremesinghe committed itself to establishing such a commission as part of a comprehensive approach to dealing with Sri Lanka’s past. Human Rights Council Resolution 30/1, which the government co-sponsored, specifically welcomed the proposed establishment of a “commission for truth, justice, reconciliation and non-recurrence”, together with an Office on Missing Persons and an Office for Reparations. However, the commitment to a truth-seeking mechanism was never fulfilled. The government should consider setting one up now. There is a growing feeling among Tamil people in the North and East that the government is failing to deliver on promises that are important to them. On issues important to them, they feel this is once again a Sinhala-dominated government like all the ones that came before.
Establish Truth
For the past two years the government has been concentrating on problems that it deems are important to the country as a whole such as the economy, development, poverty alleviation and corruption and criminality. However, the government needs to demonstrate that national unity means addressing the concerns of all communities, including those whose wounds from the war remain unhealed. Some of its own institutions have begun to act on this. The Office for National Unity and Reconciliation recently staged a drama entitled From Yakaweva to Nandikadal, depicting relationships between people that transcend the destruction caused by war. The drama portrayed the sufferings as well as the prejudices on both sides of the divide, from the Kebithigollewa bus bombing to the final days of the war around the Nandikadal lagoon. Its central message is that without forgiveness there cannot be reconciliation.
Particularly moving was the fact that the actors themselves came from families touched by the violence on both sides. The son of an LTTE Black Tiger leader and the daughter of an Army officer were among those who performed, alongside others who had experienced and survived some of the sites of carnage. The fact that a state institution is taking this message of reconciliation forward is itself a testament to the government’s openness to dealing with the past. A government institution can reach a population far larger than any civil society campaign could reach on its own, simply because the machinery of the state is so much more extensive. It is in this context that the government needs to give serious thought to setting up a Truth and Reconciliation Commission as the next step in the truth-seeking process. Special care will need to be taken to ensure that those who are appointed are not only politically non-partisan, but are acceptable to all the communities.
A Truth and Reconciliation Commission cannot by itself resolve all the wounds of the past. Nor can it replace criminal investigations or judicial proceedings where these are necessary. But it can provide something that existing institutions cannot provide on their own. This would be a comprehensive national process through which victims can be heard and the truth can be established. The general population needs to understand what happened, so that the country can begin to acknowledge its past without passing it on indefinitely to future generations. The government has already taken several steps. It is supporting the search for the truth at Chemmani. It has begun reaching out to families of the disappeared. Its own institutions are producing messages of reconciliation. But these are still not delivering the results that the victims and their families want. The next step should be to bring these efforts together to begin the journey from the missing to the missing truth, and from there to comprehensive justice.
Features
The long road to educating Sri Lanka’s Bhikkhunis
A robe without recognition:
by Anushka Kahandagamage
Education is the right of every child. Yet somewhere between childhood and the robe, that right becomes precarious for many Buddhist women in Sri Lanka, threatening not only their social standing, but their fundamental access to learning and the institutional discrimination they face. This piece is not about Buddhist disciplinary rules, which discriminates women, rather about how the state’s refusal to fully recognise bhikkhunis as bhikkhunis quietly determines what they are, and are not, permitted to learn.
Unlike dasasil mathas, who occupy a distinct and unofficial category within Buddhist renunciation, bhikkhunis belong to a formally ordained order recognised within Buddhist monastic tradition itself. Dasa sil mata means ‘ten-precept mother.’ They are women who observe the ten precepts (rather than the fuller Vinaya) and live a renunciant, celibate life, often in robes, but formal ordination has not translated into formal recognition by the state. Even after a Supreme Court ruling affirmed their right to be identified as bhikkhunis on their National Identity Cards, many still do not hold one. This stems from the hesitation of the male-dominated Buddhist hierarchy to recognise these women as part of the Theravada tradition, specifically refusing to validate their higher ordination. The identity card lists her title as Dasa Sil Mata. The ruling exists on paper, but they are still waiting for their identity cards. This is not a small bureaucratic oversight. It is the first link in a longer chain, one that reaches, eventually, into the classroom.
A Name Withheld
In Sri Lanka, there are 827 pirivenas, traditional monastic colleges that have, for centuries, served as the primary institutions of Buddhist education. Of these, only 12 are dedicated to female renunciants at all, and of those 12, just five serve fully ordained nuns specifically. The imbalance is stark on its face: 827 institutions for monks, five for fully ordained nuns. But the discrimination here is not only a matter of numbers, but it is also written into the very language used to name these institutions. Monks’ schools are called pirivena, a term carrying centuries of institutional weight, historical continuity, and state recognition under Sri Lanka’s education laws. Bhikkhunis’ schools, by contrast, are not called pirivenas at all. They are designated Buddha Sravika Meheni Adhyapana Ayathanaya (Institute for the Education of Buddha’s Female Disciples), a separate, parallel term that, however similar in function, withholds from bhikkhuni institutions the same legal and institutional status that the word ‘pirivena’ confers. Since there are ten-precept mothers, the institutes have not given the same name as the pirivena and lack the official as well as social recognition they deserve.
A Pattern a Century in the Making
Following the decline of the Buddhist nun (bhikkhuni) order after the Polonnaruwa period, the first woman to be robed again was ordained in 1905 as a dasasil matha. Although dasasil mathas have long served important religious and societal roles, they have historically lacked access to formal education. Unfortunately, today also, this pattern continuous to exist. Education, in this context, is never just about literacy or dhamma study. It is the currency of religious authority. A bhikkhuni denied equivalent education or educated in an institution the state refuses to name a pirivena, is denied that religious authority. She may know the Tipitaka as well as any monk yet will lack the institutional stamp that would make a lay community trust her reading of it. It was not indifference from the public; it was the accumulated effect of a system that has spent centuries teaching devotees, implicitly, that a woman’s robe does not carry the same weight as a man.
The female renunciants, both dasasil mathas and bhikkunis, although they wear robes, have not been regarded as individuals capable of comprehending or preaching dhamma, simply because they are women. This is most visible in education, the pirivena system, developed historically to train bhikkhus, offered dasasil mathas and bhikkunis no equivalent institutional pathway, no comparable curriculum, certification, or state recognition. This exclusion is notable because it runs counter to Sri Lanka’s broader educational trends, where women have historically outnumbered men in general university enrolment, the gap here is specific to monastic/religious education rather than a reflection of wider societal restrictions on women’s schooling. The country’s National Education Commission Policy has a section on Pirivena education. However, it does not address the education of Buddhist nuns, nor does it mention nuns within the policy. I recently learned that the policy was being reviewed, with a committee appointed by the Ministry of Education, scheduled to begin the review on the 1st of September. This presents an important opportunity to raise the issue of nuns’ education and advocate for its inclusion in the revised policy.
The monks and nuns’ education institutes are funded by the government, which allocates only 5,000–6,000 LKR per student for the entire year. This sum is grossly inadequate to cover even basic institutional needs, accommodation, food, learning materials, and the maintenance of the physical premises, let alone to support any meaningful expansion of the curriculum. With this level of funding, these education institutes are struggling to sustain themselves, and many are forced to rely almost entirely on external support simply to remain operational. This is where the disparity becomes most visible. As female renunciants have historically not been taken seriously, regarded neither as authoritative teachers of dhamma nor as figures worthy of the same reverence extended to their male counterparts, their education centres receive far fewer lay offerings than those for male renunciants. The result is a widening resource gap that mirrors and reinforces the very discrimination that caused it. Underfunded institutions produce fewer well-trained female scholars, which in turn reinforces the perception that female renunciants are less capable, a perception that then justifies continued underinvestment. Without deliberate intervention, either through equitable government allocation or targeted lay support, this cycle is likely to persist rather than resolve on its own.
Sitting Alone at the Bo Tree
I was at Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi in Anuradhapura, where a few monks sat preaching in the shade of the Bo Tree, each surrounded by small clusters of lay devotees. Nearby, I noticed a few female Buddhist renunciants, though I could not immediately tell whether they were bhikkhunîs or dasasil mathas, since visually, in their robes and demeanour, they appeared indistinguishable to an outside observer. Most of them sat alone, without the small crowds of devotees gathered around the monks nearby. This, too, is not incidental. Because women cannot enter the sâsana through the same pathway to ordination, available to men, many Buddhist female renunciants remain dasasil mathas, a status that carries the appearance of monastic life without its legitamised spiritual standing. They observe the 10 precepts, wear robes, and live in renunciation, yet occupy a lower, unofficial rung in the religious hierarchy, one that grants them neither the ordination lineage nor the institutional recognition given to monks. However, in June last year, the Supreme Court of Sri Lanka delivered a landmark majority ruling in SC/FR/218/2013, affirming that fully ordained Buddhist nuns have the fundamental right to use the title ‘Bhikkhuni’ on their National Identity Cards, legally recognising the de facto existence of the Bhikkhuni Sanga.
A Closed Loop
Social discrimination and educational discrimination feed each other in a closed loop. Because bhikkhunis have fewer, less recognised institutions, fewer are formally trained to a standard the public recognises. Because fewer are recognised as authoritative teachers, fewer devotees seek them out or support them. Because they attract fewer devotees, the education institutions of female renunciants remain under-resourced and easy to overlook in state budgets and in popular imagination alike. A dasasil matha or bhikkhuni without an active following also lacks the economic support that following brings, since in Sri Lanka’s monastic economy, devotees are patrons as much as students. The precarity is not only spiritual or bureaucratic; it is material, and it compounds across a lifetime spent in robes.
Until bhikkhunis’ education is named, funded, and recognised on the same terms as that of bhikkhus, this will remain a story not only about missing ID cards or under-resourced schools, but about an education system that continues to decide, quietly and continuously, which students are worth investing in. Education was supposed to be the one place where the women can speak for themselves, instead, for these women, it has become just another place where women have to ask permission to be heard.
(Anushka is a Sociologist who is working on contemporary Buddhist movements. She was formerly attached to the University of Colombo)
Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.
Features
‘Memories of Milton – Live in Concert’ to enchant Dubai
Sri Lankan music knows no borders. Wherever our people go, our melodies follow — and our musicians make sure of it.
From Qatar’s Exit, to Melbourne’s EBONY, to Toronto’s Ceymphony, and Dubai’s Seven Notes, Sri Lankan bands abroad continue to keep the community connected to home, through song.
In July, Rajiv Sebastian set the Dubai stage alight with the band Seven Notes, creating an unforgettable night for Sri Lankans in the UAE. And the live-wire behind that magic? Niluk Uswaththa of Seven Notes.
Well, Niluk says he isn’t stopping there.
Now, Dubai is preparing for something truly special — ‘Memories of Milton – Live in Concert’, a grand musical tribute to one of Sri Lanka’s most beloved voices: Milton Mallawarachchi.
For more than a decade, Milton Mallawarachchi was a trending force in Sri Lankan music. With nearly 850 songs and over 35 albums to his name, he gave us melodies that became the soundtrack to our lives — songs of love, longing, and life itself.
On Saturday, 26th September 2026, from 8:00 PM to 3:00 AM, the Mercure Hotel, Al Barsha Heights, Dubai, will transform into a space of nostalgia.

Ranil Mallawarachchi; Carrying forward his father’s legacy / Yenuli Neriah
With the spotlight on Ranil Mallawarachchi — Milton’s eldest son, carrying forward his father’s legacy — along with Yenuli Neriah and Tharaka, the evening will certainly bring Milton’s timeless classics back to life … on one stage.
Seven Notes will do the needful, providing the live music that made Dubai dance before.
According to Niluk, this isn’t just a concert.
“It’s designed as a nostalgic musical journey — to bring cherished memories and beloved songs back to life,” he says.
And he promises: 26th September will be a night to remember.
In fact, Niluk Uswaththa has become a driving force for Sri Lankan entertainment in Dubai.
Through Seven Notes, he ensures the community always has something special to look forward to — especially when it comes to music that feels like home.
The success of these overseas shows naturally raises one big question back in Sri Lanka.
Yes, music lovers, in Sri Lanka, are keen to know whether the Seven Notes band will pop up in Colombo, sometime soon, for a live performance?
Music lovers, island-wide, will be watching … and waiting!
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