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Recipe for reform: Smallholders hold the key to productivity in Sri Lanka’s tea industry

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by K. L. Gunaratne

With nearly 500,000 smallholders in total, the tea smallholder sector is a significant contributor to the production and output of Ceylon Tea in Sri Lanka, and across the globe. We are often called the ‘backbone’ of our tea industry, and with good reason.

Sixteen percent of Sri Lanka’s arable land belongs to the tea sector. Of this, tea smallholders operate in 60% of the total tea land and account for more than 70% of the total tea produced. According to the Tea Control Act, tea lands between 20 perches and 10 acres are considered “Tea Small Holdings” across the country.

I am a tea smallholder myself. My journey began in 1977 with a two-acre tea land. I now operate three small tea lands while simultaneously serving as the Chairman of the Sri Lanka Federation of Tea Smallholders. Running a smallholding over the past three decades (or more) has not been an easy feat. No matter how big or small your tea plot is, ensuring that the land is well managed, tea is correctly harvested, and the quality of Ceylon Tea is upheld are challenging standards to meet every day.

Currently, a great deal is being made about the tea industry and tea companies being in hot water over concerns on wages, productivity, output, and quality. As such we felt it was important to share lessons from a tea smallholder perspective to help refine best practices and discover a sustainable way forward. It is essential that the industry – as a collective – ensures a paradigm shift in the way we’ve been managing this sector. While it is true that the industry was introduced by the British in 1867, the challenges we face today are totally different from then, and there is no reason as to why our management practices should not evolve with the times.

 

Basic industry dynamics

Tea smallholder plantations are found commonly across the island. Most low-country tea comes from plantations in Ratnapura, Galle, Matara and Kalutara. Mid-country smallholdings are widespread across, Kegalle and Kandy. Up-Country tea comes from Nuwara Eliya and Uva. 

A majority of tea smallholders are both managers and harvesters of their lands. Small tea plots are easy to manage, and if you own one, you and your family will likely tend it. The larger the tea plot, the more decentralised management becomes – quite similar to the basics of how the much larger tea companies function. However, unlike the big tea companies – widely known as Regional Plantation Companies (RPCs) – smallholders are not bound by a ‘Collective Agreement’ when it comes to the matter of worker compensation. Sri Lanka’s Industrial Disputes Act of 1950 defines the ‘Collective Agreement’ as an agreement relating to the terms and condition of employment of workmen in any industry. Within the tea industry, this agreement mainly focuses on worker remuneration and is renegotiated every two years. 

With wage negotiations approaching early next year, industry actors across the board seem to be at cross-roads on the best way forward. The only point on which there seems to be much agreement is that reform is needed and urgently. This is a battle fought every two years, and unfortunately, there are no winners; only losers. By contrast, smallholders like us who are not bound by such an agreement have the independence to make decisions we feel are best for our workers, the industry and the legacy of Ceylon Tea.

While we use the Collective Agreement as a benchmark for the rate of payment, we have one crucial advantage, which is that we have the freedom to decide on the model of payment. For us, the Collective Agreement is only a guideline. Our main focus is therefore in ensuring that we are able to offer workers a method of payment that is attractive, while still remaining sustainable as a business.

 

Lesson from tea smallholders

Here’s how we work: As a baseline, tea harvesters are paid a rate of Rs. 30 for every kilo they harvest. Some harvesters pluck up to an average of 30 kgs on a good day. A good day is when the weather, the soil and harvesting practices are all in our favour. Leaves on each tea bush are harvested on rotation every 7-10 days. This means that leaves from each bush are plucked at least three times a month. A tea plot needs more than just the expertise of tea harvesters to yield a successful output. Besides tea harvesters, we also have other fieldworkers who engage in manual labour oriented tasks like weeding, manuring and up-keeping estate infrastructure who are paid a daily wage of Rs. 1000. These fieldworkers work eight hours a day.

As illustrated above, for tea harvesters, our method of payment is far from an unrewarding, fixed daily wage model. Instead, each harvester is paid for the kilos of tea they yield – which is to say: a productivity linked model of remuneration.

Until the 2000s, like the RPCs, tea smallholders also paid harvesters and tea workers a daily wage. However, we found that this became a real challenge when trying to retain workers and maintain profitability, and so a collective decision was taken by tea smallholders to shift towards a productivity-linked wage, as we saw this to be far more efficient and effective for the industry. 

Speaking from direct personal experience, the ability to remunerate tea harvesters based on output has been liberating for them and for myself. While this has helped me manage my tea lands better and yield higher output, it has also given me the time to venture into other areas of work I am passionate about. For instance, I was able to pursue my passion of setting up the National Pre-School Development Foundation; this foundation aims to train pre-school teachers in Early Childhood Development within plantation communities. For tea harvesters, moving out of a daily payment system has opened up a path for them to secure higher earnings while increasing mobility of labour – meaning that workers were freed up to actively pursue work on different smallholder plots in order to boost their earnings even further.  

Over the past few years, tea harvesters who work on smallholder plots have evolved into entrepreneurs themselves. Driven by the need to improve efficiency and output, harvesters themselves have become ‘agents of change’. Management and production practices have become smarter, output-oriented and have resulted in improvements in the quality of the tea leaf itself.

A recent study by the International Labour Organisation confirms these observations which I have personally witnessed over the years as a smallholder, namely: that casual workers engaged in tea smallholdings usually earn a higher daily wage compared to the plantation workers and contribute towards more productive work (Future of work for Tea Smallholders in Sri Lanka, ILO, 2018). This is simply due to the fact that the people we contract to work on our plots are paid solely based on their productivity. 

Over the years, although the tea smallholder sector has evolved to suit the times, it is unfortunate that the rest of our industry has been held back from progress by forcing the continuation of a basic wage system that does not prioritize or sufficiently reward productivity. RPCs continue to play an important role in our industry – particularly in terms of upholding the international image and reputation of Ceylon Tea through their commitments to securing international standards and certifications.

Hence it is essential that the RPCs are able to continue operations in a sustainable manner. A collapse in the RPC sector would create major risks to the entire industry’s reputation for the highest quality standards and its capacity for innovation – given that more recent advancements in mechanization, climate-friendly factories, use of drone technology and IT to optimize production and supply chain have only been made possible due to their investments. Such advancements can only be scaled down to provide benefits to tea smallholders once a path to implementation has been cleared by RPCs. Failure to facilitate this progress will ultimately jeopardize the sustainability of the entire industry.

Moreover, the first and most pressing solution to this dilemma is obvious to all parties. The wage model must be revised. Our experience as tea smallholders is clear proof of this fact and should not be lightly disregarded. We are all advocates of our tea, and what hurts one sector of our industry will ultimately impact all of us. A paradigm shift is necessary, and it can only start with a long-overdue update to the way in which, workers are paid. 

 

(The author is the Chairman of the Sri Lanka Federation of Tea Small Holders. The Federation of Tea Small Holders is an industry body aimed at promoting the advancement and development of tea small holdings in the country. In 2018, tea small holders contributed to more than 70% of over the overall tea production in the country.)



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High Stakes in Pursuing corruption cases

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Kapila Chandrasena

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

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When University systems fail:Supreme Court’s landmark intervention in sexual harassment case

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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

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‘Nidahase’ in the spotlight

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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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