Features
Many benefits of teaching a second religion
by SUSANTHA HEWA
Hobson’s customers had to choose the horse closest to the stable door. Yet, they had the option of leaving it- after all, it’s an option, isn’t it? We are not so lucky, because we don’t have the much underrated option of ‘leaving it’ when it comes to very important matters in life. First, we don’t have the option of not coming into this world. Second, we don’t have the option of refusing the language of our guardians. Third, we don’t have the option of asking for another religion. How unfortunate! It’s a pity that many of us take “Hobson’s choice” to be synonymous with only one choice or none at all. It tends to make us forget that ‘leaving it’ is a valuable option we begin to appreciate only in its absence.
Rarely do we question whether we would have preferred any other language or religion to the ones we had no option but take. All along, we have been entertaining the illusory feeling that we practice the religion we have chosen, but this is not so. To say that you have the freedom to pick your religion is as preposterous as saying “By all means, you are free to choose your first language!” A cynic might say that the first ‘violation’ of children’s rights starts at home, when parents follow the hoary tradition of giving their religion to their clueless children.
Of course, infants vociferously fight for their rights, but only when they feel some form of discomfort i.e. hunger, pain, sleepiness etc. and the more they grow the choosier they become. A child may throw away a toy given him asking for another one, but he never rejects the language or the religion on offer- simply, he has no idea of any other; and they all fall head over heels in love with both the language and the religion at the ‘stable door.’ It’s perhaps this fixation that makes them identify themselves with both, and become unhealthily sensitive about this identification thrust on them.
Since the language comes slightly before the religion, let’s first talk about the former. While all other creatures are confined to a dumb world, humans have a language to communicate with others, which makes all the difference between animals and us. We are said to be light years ahead of other creatures in terms of civilization, thanks to our capacity to use a complex language system. Linguists are so enamoured of language that many of them will tell you that, more than anything else, it is language that makes us human! Nevertheless, many of us are unaware of the unique contribution language has made towards civilizing the human race. The credit, usually, goes to religion. For most of us religion is synonymous with civilization.
Incidentally, how ironical it is that both these civilizing agents have, by unwittingly sticking labels on us, caused so much bloodshed in different eras down the centuries right up to the present! The same child who would be recognized as a Sinhala Buddhist if raised in one family, would grow up bearing any of the following ‘ethnic/religious’ labels, i.e. Sinhala Christian, Tamil Hindu, Tamil Christian etc. if he were to be raised by another family coming under a different ‘ethnic/religious’ category.
Our first language and (first) religion are close allies in that we acquire both in more or less similar ways, but there is another level at which they have become soulmates. Prof. Anthony Campbell says that for almost all children, religion comes wrapped in narratives. This is quite plausible because, it would be impossible to find somebody who hadn’t heard stories at the knees of her parents or grandparents, and, as we can remember, some of these stories used to come from religion. As toddlers, our first routes to knowledge are along these stories, which become part and parcel of our emotional life. This supports the idea that both language and religion continue to have a lifelong hold on us. If these narratives hadn’t facilitated initiating us to our respective religions, we would not have internalized them so easily and unconsciously as children. Narratives form the basis of our strongest connection with religion; the dogma comes later enveloped in them. Unless you were a mathematics or physics prodigy as a child, you would not be able to make head or tail of the abstruse concepts in your religion like, for example, rebirth, creation, samsara, heaven, hell, karma, nirvana etc.- ideas which had continued to elude the grasp of even the most complex of minds.
Of these two primary internalizing processes, which have come down to us from time immemorial, language acquisition is a prerequisite for a person’s optimal community participation, both as a child and an adult. The exceptionally rare cases of children who had been isolated with little or no exposure to a language during the early years, had shown that they were unable acquire it later to be satisfactorily proficient in it; the longer the deprivation, the greater the damage and the lesser the opportunity for reaching the required level of linguistic competency and hence the resultant failures in communication.
If a young child is simultaneously exposed to two or three languages he will pick all of them and use them competently – no fear of him getting his wires crossed. In fact, exposure to more than one language is a blessing. As neuroscientists have shown, bilingualism and multilingualism make a person’s brain work smarter and more efficiently and, what’s more, ward off cognition related ailments among adults. However, with regard to religion, children are not offered this opportunity of plurality for obvious reasons. This is sad because exposure to more than one religion is likely to have salutary effects, especially, both on children and adults. It will make them form a more holistic view of religion.
Quite a few of us are lucky enough to get exposed to more than one language, but many are beneficiaries of second language learning- as teenagers or adults. And, all bilinguals know how a a second language makes them more knowledgeable about the fundamentals of ‘language’ and better groom them to learn another language. Surely, this is in addition to all the benefits that come to them as bilinguals – better job opportunities, better access to knowledge, increased awareness of other civilizations, and the ability to communicate with people across cultures.
As we have mentioned earlier, language deprivation in early childhood can be catastrophic. By the way, how about ‘religion deprivation’ in early childhood? There are no records of children who are barred from religious instruction in early years, growing up to be any more wicked than the rest of us, provided they go through other humanizing processes i.e. being loved by parents and siblings, making friends, play, painting, music etc. and, later, receiving formal education. On the other hand, a child who undergoes religious training sans parental love, and the other humanizing opportunities mentioned above, might not develop wholesome qualities intended to be nurtured by no other than religion itself. It will not be easy for us to draw a line between the ethics that are fashioned by religion and those that come to us from other forms of socialization.
Given the universality of these coupled acquisition processes of language and religion occurring in early childhood, it is surprising that we are quite at home with teaching a second language but hardly think of a second religion, let alone teaching one. second language learning is unreservedly appreciated by all, but a suggestion to teach/learn a ‘second religion’ will be met with a range of responses, beginning from mild cynicism to unconcealed horror. Is teaching a second religion an exception to the rule, “The more things you learn, the better it is?” Can anybody deny that learning a second religion will broaden a person’s understanding of religion in general, which will at least partly compensate for the conditioned partiality we all have towards the religion passed on to us by our parents? Surely, all those who like to promote tolerance, social reconciliation and crosscultural understanding will readily commend the idea of a second religion. However, most people would look askance at such a more relaxed attitude towards a second religion. Why?
The awkwardness one may feel at the mere mention of a second religion may be attributed to the provincial attitude with which we regard all matters pertaining to religion. Is there anything intrinsically sanctified about what each of us may think about the beginning/end of the world or what ‘awaits’ us after death? Why should the different ‘answers’ to some perfectly decent and reasonable questions cause segregation, when our conviction of their ‘truth’ is primarily a matter of conditioning?
Unlike language, it is impossible for a child to acquire more than one religion. That can never happen even if the parents are of two different faiths. The child will be exposed to only one of them. So the only chance of learning a 2nd religion can come later in life.
First language ‘learning’ and second language learning are two different ball games; so are learning your first religion and a second. With regard to language, the first ‘learning’ is an unconscious process, while the second is conscious learning with formal instruction. The structure of your first language leaves a permanent imprint on your brain, and the more you delay the learning of a second language the harder would it be for you – the structures of the first language will be a nagging source of interruption in the second language learning process. However irritating it may be, you have to cope with the nosey intruder for a while with patience, and gradually you will begin to feel comfortable with the new one. The more you use the second language, the less would be the intrusions by the first.
It is true that when an adult learns his 2nd language or second religion, the cognitive tools like reasoning, questioning, looking for relationships, comparison and contrast, relating to the existing body of knowledge, memory – all these come into play to help him to understand what he is learning. For example, when a student learns a second religion at school, at least one of his motives will be to be thoroughly acquainted with the details to get a good grade. However, there is no fear of the student starting to reject the first and believe the second, because he is already hardwired to his first religion. A second doesn’t stand a chance to sabotage it. But a programme to offer a second religion in the school curriculum will certainly benefit society, because it will help students to attain more maturity and be less inward-looking with regard to religion. After all, it will at least partly compensate for the child’s lost opportunity for acquiring another religion with equal claims to being a guide to morality.
Features
High Stakes in Pursuing corruption cases
The death of the most important suspect in the Sri Lankan Airlines Airbus deal has drawn intense public speculation. Kapila Chandrasena the former CEO of the heavily loss-making national airline was found dead under circumstances that the police are still investigating.
He had recently been arrested by the Commission to Investigate Allegations of Bribery or Corruption in connection with the controversial Airbus aircraft purchase agreement signed in 2013. Police investigations are continuing into the cause of death and whether or not he committed suicide. The unresolved death brings to light the high stakes involved in accountability efforts of this nature.
The uncertainty surrounding Chandrasena’s death has revived public memories of other mysterious deaths linked to corruption investigations and public scandals. Among them is the death of Rajeewa Jayaweera, a former SriLankan Airlines executive and outspoken critic of the Airbus transaction. He was following in the tradition of his father, the late foreign service officer and public servant Stanley Jayaweera who mentored the younger generation in good governance practices and formed the group “Avadhi Lanka” along with icons such as Prof Siri Hettige. Rajeewa had written a series of articles exposing irregularities in the deal before he was found dead near Independence Square in Colombo in 2020. The CCTV cameras in that high security area were turned off. Questions raised at that time whether or not he had committed suicide were not satisfactorily resolved.
The controversy about the cause of Chandrasena’s death is diverting attention away from the massive damage done to the country by the SriLankan Airlines deal itself. The value of the aircraft agreement was close to the size of the International Monetary Fund bailout package that Sri Lanka desperately needed by 2023 in order to stabilise the economy after bankruptcy. Sri Lanka’s IMF Extended Fund Facility amounted to about USD 3 billion spread over four years. The comparison shows the scale of the losses and liabilities that irresponsible and corrupt decisions have imposed on the country and which must never happen again.
Wider Pattern
The corruption linked to the Airbus transaction came fully into the open only because of investigations conducted outside Sri Lanka. In 2020 Airbus agreed to pay record penalties of more than EUR 3.6 billion to authorities in Britain, France and the United States to settle global corruption investigations. Sri Lanka was identified as one of the countries where bribes had allegedly been paid in order to secure contracts. The Airbus deal involved the purchase of six A330 aircraft and four A350 aircraft valued at approximately USD 2.3 billion. Investigations showed that Airbus paid bribes amounting to nearly USD 16 million in order to secure the contract. According to court submissions, at least part of this money amounting to USD 2 million was transferred through a shell company registered in Brunei and routed through Singapore bank accounts linked to the late airline CEO and his wife.
The commissions involved in this deal may seem comparatively small compared to the overall value of the contracts but devastating in their consequences. But they also show that a few million dollars paid secretly to decision makers could lead to the country assuming liabilities worth hundreds of millions or even billions of dollars over decades. This is why corruption is not simply a moral issue. It is a direct economic assault on the living standards of ordinary people. Money lost through corruption is money unavailable for schools, hospitals, rural development and job creation. In the end the burden falls on ordinary citizens who are left to repay debts incurred in their name without receiving commensurate benefits in return.
The SriLankan Airlines transaction gives an indication of the wider pattern of corruption and misuse of national resources that has taken place over many years. This was not an isolated incident. There were numerous large scale infrastructure and procurement projects that imposed heavy debts on the country while enriching politically connected individuals and their associates. Other projects such as the Colombo Port City, Hambantota Harbour and highway construction reveal a similar pattern.
Less publicised but equally damaging scandals have involved fertiliser medicine and energy contracts. Investigations into medicine procurement in recent years uncovered allegations that substandard pharmaceuticals had been imported at inflated prices causing both financial losses and risks to public health.
Moral Renewal
The present government appears determined to investigate major corruption cases in a manner that no previous government has attempted. Those who ransacked and bankrupted the treasury need to be dealt with according to the law. There is considerable public support for efforts to recover stolen assets and ensure accountability.
In his May Day speech President Anura Kumara Dissanayake stated that around 14 corruption cases were nearing completion in the courts this very month and called upon the public to applaud when verdicts are delivered. Political opponents of the government claim that such comments could place pressure on the judiciary and blur the separation between political leadership and the courts. But the deeper public frustration that underlies the president’s remarks also needs to be understood.
The challenge facing Sri Lanka is twofold. The country must ensure that justice is done through due process and independent institutions. If anti corruption campaigns become politicised they can lose legitimacy. But if corruption and abuse of power continue without consequences the country will remain trapped in a cycle of economic decline and moral decay. Sri Lanka also needs to confront past abuses linked to the war period. There are allegations of kidnapping, extortion, disappearances and criminal activity in which members of the security forces have been implicated. Vulnerable sections of the population suffered greatly during those years. If political leaders turned a blind eye or actively connived in such crimes they too need to be held accountable under the law. Selective justice will not heal the country. Accountability must apply across the board regardless of political position, ethnicity or institutional power.
Sri Lanka has paid a very heavy price for corruption and impunity. The economic collapse of 2022 did not occur overnight. It was the result of years of bad governance, reckless decision making, abuse of power and the misuse of public wealth. If the country is to move forward the focus cannot be diverted by sensational speculation alone. Suspicious deaths and political intrigue may dominate headlines for a few days. But the larger issue is the system that enabled corruption to flourish without accountability for so long. The real national task is to end that system. Sri Lanka cannot build a prosperous future on a foundation of corruption and impunity. Unless those who looted public wealth are held accountable and the systems that enabled them are dismantled, the country risks repeating the same cycle again.
Jehan Perera
Features
When University systems fail:Supreme Court’s landmark intervention in sexual harassment case
Over seven years after making an initial complaint of sexual harassment against her research supervisor, Dr. Udari Abeyasinghe, then a temporary lecturer and now a senior lecturer at the University of Peradeniya, has been finally served justice. On May 8, 2026, the Supreme Court made the following directions regarding Udari’s fundamental rights case: “1) The 1st Respondent [her research supervisor] is prohibited from accepting any post, whether paid or not or honorary, in any university, educational institute or other academic institution; 2) The UGC to issue a direction to all universities and other institutions, coming under its purview, to abstain from giving any appointment, whether paid or not, or honorary, to the 1st Respondent; and 3) The University of Peradeniya, including the Council and respective Respondent [sic], are directed to take appropriate measures to enforce and raise awareness of the University of Peradeniya’s policy on Sexual or Gender-Based Harassment and Sexual Violence for staff and students, including conducting mandatory annual seminars for all academics, staff and students.” I recently spoke with Udari to learn about her experience battling the University’s sexual and gender-based violence (SGBV) procedures.
Violence and injustice
Udari was a temporary lecturer when she began working on her MPhil degree. Her research supervisor was a Senior Professor and Dean of her faculty. The harassment began in 2017.
When Udari reached out for support to the SGBV Committee of the University of Peradeniya, the Chair explained the complaint procedure, including how a third party could make a complaint on her behalf. In July 2018, Udari’s mother made a written complaint to the Vice Chancellor (VC). “The very next day [my supervisor] called me … and asked me to withdraw the complaint because it would look bad for me … the university should have taken measures to separate the complainant from the perpetrator … but nothing like that happened.”
Before making the formal complaint, Udari reached out to other academic staff at her Faculty. She shared her experience with a few close colleagues. Many advised her to leave the Faculty. “No one in the Faculty supported me publicly, although some sympathised privately … I was a temporary lecturer … no one really cared.” Some of her colleagues and non-academic staff who knew about the harassments, asked her to avoid involving them because they feared retaliation from higher powers.
Udari faced a preliminary inquiry and then a formal inquiry. The preliminary inquiry took place about four months after her complaint, and the inquiry committee recommended proceeding to a formal inquiry. The latter was held about a year after the initial complaint. “I got to know unofficially that [my supervisor] had got hold of all the statements made at the preliminary inquiry and pressured some colleagues to change their statements before the formal inquiry.” During the time of the formal inquiry, an anonymous letter (“kala paththaraya”) was circulated among staff: “It was a character assassination … the same kala paththaraya would get circulated from time to time.” After the formal inquiry committee submitted its report and recommendations, Udari was informed, in writing, that the University Council had dismissed the report.
“Neither the preliminary inquiry report nor the formal inquiry report were shared with me … I had to make a formal request to the VC and only then did I get a copy of the preliminary inquiry report… I had to get the formal inquiry report through an RTI (a request under the Right to Information Act). What I understand is that [my supervisor] had influenced the Council … that’s why they rejected the report…saying there had been a delay of six months to make a complaint ….” (N. B. there are no time limitations for submitting a complaint in the SGBV by-laws of the University of Peradeniya, although such time bars exist at other universities).
Udari then submitted formal complaints to the University Grants Commission (August 2020) and the Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka (December 2020), and finally filed a fundamental rights case at the Supreme Court in March 2021. Five years later, on May 8th 2026, Udari’s complaint was vindicated.
University procedures and inquiries
When her mother submitted the complaint against her supervisor, Udari was a temporary lecturer. She had given up her dream of pursuing an academic career because she did not think she would be recruited to a permanent position after making a complaint against a faculty member. It is encouraging that Udari was recruited, but in most instances, students and junior staff endure and stay silent to avoid jeopardising their academic careers. We currently have no procedures in place at universities to protect victims and witnesses from backlash.
According to Udari, the former Chair of the SGBV Committee and the members of her preliminary inquiry panel played a crucial role in her case, and, in her words, “could not be influenced.” But SGBV by-laws at state universities place inordinate power in the hands of the Council and VC. According to the SGBV by-laws of the University of Peradeniya, the Council appoints the 15-member SGBV Committee comprising “[t]wo (02) persons from among the members of the Council; [t]en (10) persons drawn from the permanent and senior members of the academic community; and [t]hree (03) persons external to the University, from among the retired academic or administrative staff of the University” (Section 2.1). While the by-laws recommend appointing persons who have demonstrated “gender-sensitivity, proven interest in working on issues of gender equality and equity, and trained to investigate and inquire into cases of sexual or gender-based harassment and sexual violence” (Section 2.1), we know this is often not the case. In many universities, VCs control which cases are taken up and end up in an inquiry. Most students and staff at state universities have little faith in the existing SGBV complaint procedures.
As Udari experienced, the decisions of inquiry committees can be overruled and dismissed by University Councils, indicating the importance of appointing appropriate members to the Councils. The Deans of faculties, who are Ex-officio members, usually collude to protect their own interests and fiefdoms, while the appointment of external members to Councils is deeply politicised. At present, there is no application process or vetting of candidates before they are appointed. They are usually persons who are seen to be sympathetic to the incumbent political dispensation. Furthermore, external members are dependent on the university hierarchy for information on the issues being discussed, the details of which are often hidden from them. It is not surprising then that University Councils would adjudicate on the side of power.
Final recommendation
Beyond barring Udari’s former research supervisor from holding positions in the university system, the Supreme Court has directed the University of Peradeniya to raise awareness on SGBV among staff and students. While SGBV is addressed in the induction courses and orientation programmes at universities, staff and students must be made aware of the nitty-gritties of complaint procedures, including time bars, which were crucial to the outcome of Udari’s case. But is raising awareness sufficient? Do we have ways to hold university authorities accountable for arbitrary and/or prejudicial decision-making and other abuses of power?
For Udari, life continues to be difficult, with constant surveillance of her activities.
“In November 2024 , I shared a post about my case.. it was a newspaper article stating that the Supreme Court had granted leave to proceed… I just took a photograph of it and posted it on my Facebook without any captions… a few weeks later I was summoned by higher authorities…I was informed that several academics had verbally complained about me using my social media to tarnish the name of the faculty and the university and, if that’s the case, that I should know that the University Council has the authority to take action against me … we also spoke briefly about the case and at one point I was told that this incident (harassment) happened to me because I showed some positivity towards (the perpetrator) …”
Let’s hope that university administrations pause before victimising and revictimising SGBV survivors in future. As a community, we have to rethink the hierarchical ways in which universities function and create a meaningful mechanism that supports students and staff to complain without fear of repercussion.
Thank you, Udari, for taking this step forward. University administrations will have to stop, listen and change their ways.
(Ramya Kumar is attached to the Department of Community and Family Medicine, Faculty of Medicine, University of Jaffna, and is an alumna of the University of Peradeniya).
Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.
By Ramya Kumar
Features
‘Nidahase’ in the spotlight
Senani Wijesena, the Sri Lankan-Australian singer-songwriter, known for fusion pop/R&B with ethnic elements, like the tabla and sitar, is in the news again.
She was featured in The Island, in early April (2026), regarding her career in the music scene, and the release of her first ever Sinhala song ‘Nidahase.’
The song was released in Sri Lanka, on 17th April, with Senani in town to do the needful.
The music video was filmed at the Polgampola Waterfall, in Sri Lanka, and also features co-star Senura Ambegoda … playing the romantic interest.
Describing the setup, Senani had this to say:
“To achieve the high falls scenes, I had to climb large rocks and slippery edges to get to the top of the falls, and I had to do it in the yellow saree I was wearing. Of course the film crew assisted me.”
The initial scenes were filmed in bustling Pettah where Senani meets co-star Senura Ambegoda, working in a street stall, and when their eyes meet it triggers a memory of soul connection and transports her into another world entering the forest scene.
The forest, says Senani, symbolically represented a retreat to nature and peace.
The couple later rejoin at Colombo City Centre where they danced together and enjoyed each other’s company.
Says Senani: “The short dance routine was created on the spot, on set. Senura is a dance teacher, as well as a model and actor, and we learnt the routine, in 10 minutes, before it was filmed.”
‘Nidahase’ means Freedom in English – about being free in life, love, expression and movement.
It’s, in fact, a reworked version of her highly successful English song ‘Free’ which was nominated for a Hollywood Music In Media award in the RNB/Soul category, and also reached the Top 20 of the Music Week Dance charts in the UK.
‘Nidahase’ can be heard on all streaming platforms, including Spotify, Apple Music and Amazon.
Senani’s YouTube channel is www.youtube.com/senanimusic
Her social media pages are: www.instagram.com/senanimusic and www.facebook.com/senanimusic. Her website is www.senani.com
For the record, Senani is the daughter of film actress Jeevarani Kurukulasuriya and Dr Lanka Wijesena.
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