Features
The Knuckles Range
by Dishana H. Uragoda
My first jungle trips were made with the family. The very first, as far as my memory goes, was in the mid 1970s, when we travelled in an Austin A 60 car to Lahugala, Ampara, Batticaloa, Polonnaruva and Sigiriya. I was probably five years old at the time. Since then there were a number of such long trips we made as a family, until 1984 when we joined Mr. Meryl Fernando and his traveling companions on a trip to Rakwana.
It was on this trip that I made my first memorable jungle hike, which was to the famous Waulpane cave. Since that trip, we made a number of trips to Yala where we based ourselves at the Palatupana bungalow run by the Wildlife and Nature Protection Society. We used to make those trips in Uncle Meryl’s Mitsubishi J40 jeep and trailer, driven by the dear driver Simon, whose nephew Wimaladasa was in charge of the bungalow at Palatupana.
During this period, another anchorman to our trips stepped into our lives. He was Senath Abeygunawardena, who was a close friend of my brother. In subsequent years, we made many trips with a group of friends whom he introduced to our family, such as Bimal Perera, Niranjan Perera and Imaran Seneviratne. In fact, we still continue to go on trips with them, together with my sister’s father-in-law, Dr. Walter Gooneratne, Air Vice Marshall Paddy Mendis and the Vernon Edirisinghe family. In between, there was another group with whom I made a number of trips during the early 1990s, and it is one of these that I wish to elaborate on.
It all began when I joined an institute in Colombo to read for a degree in computer science in August 1990 shortly after leaving school. Here I came across a bunch of boys who developed a keen interest in sharing the thrills of traveling in Sri Lanka. Their interest may have been partly created by their seeing my photographs and listening to my narrations of interesting incidents of trips undertaken with my family. The interest so created resulted in altogether five trips being made during end-of-semester holidays to interesting places, namely Adam’s Peak, Horton Plains, Namunukula, Anuradhapura and the Knuckles. These trips were filled with laughter, gossip, bullying and idle talk. They were all budget trips leading a frugal existence, and that made them all the more interesting. After our three years at the institute, almost all of us joined universities in the USA and are now dispersed round the world, yet most of our links and friendships remain as before.

Planning the trip
At the institute we had two weeks holidays in between semesters, and had to squeeze in all the action and relaxation we could think of within that period. On this particular occasion, we decided on the Knuckles region as our destination. I had some experience of the area, having been there twice before on family trips, one of which was a successful attempt at reaching the famous Nitre Cave. The other trip was a total disaster, with heavy rains, strong winds, earthslips, floods and leeches. We planned the present trip in order to avoid the rainy season.
On one of these earlier visits, I happened to obtain the address of the Village Headman of Kumbukgolle off Meemure. He was Heenbanda alias Polgas Seeman Aiya, who was a respectable-looking, small built, lively man in his 50s. My brother and his friends had spent a few nights with him some years earlier on one of their trips; hence I knew we had a chance of spending a few nights with him. After a letter or two of correspondence, we were assured of a place to spend the nights. Our targets were the Nitro Cave and Lakegala Peak of the Knuckles range.
The former could be reached by using Heenbanda’s home as the base, but to get to Lakegala, we had to find accommodation in the more famous village of Meemure. Since we did not have any contacts there, we were considering either the school or the temple as our base. As a backup plan, we were contemplating the possibility of camping out. We had no idea where to camp, but we knew the river Heen Ganga wound through Mimure and it would be practical to camp on its bank.
Six persons agreed to make the trip, and they were Azard Barie, Chandima Wimalasena, Nishantha Nawalage, Tharaka de Silva, Udara Gunawardena and myself. We tried very hard to convince a regular member of our team, Lakshita Surasinghe as well, but he opted out with a trivial excuse. Looking at this list of names today, they have all turned out to be Information Technology professionals of different flavours based around the globe. One sad fact is that our dear friend Azard Barie is no more. He passed away in the UK in January 2003. As would be expected, we were all bachelors then, but now are either fathers, fathers-to-be, separated, fiances, singletons or playboys.
We planned to be out for three nights and hence the food had to be anything that lasted without refrigeration for a few days. We knew we would be provided with food at Heenbanda’s, but we had to stock ourselves with some for the balance period, the easiest being instant noodles, sliced bread, tinned fish, butter, jam and some biscuit packets. We expected to obtain water of pristine purity from the streams found in the Knuckles. While this settled the food problem for me, there were protests from the rest of the boys, who were all heavy eaters and seekers of comfort. They had a notion that I knew somewhat better than they regarding trips and went on with my recommendations, but now I feel they made a mistake!
Backup plan of camping was a favourable option to putting up at a school or temple, and we decided to prepare ourselves for it. We required two tents, a portable kerosene cooker, and at least one kerosene lantern. I had two tents which we regularly used on our family trips. We bought a kerosene cooker, and a few of us obtained lanterns from home.
The next step was to figure out the route to be taken. I obtained some help from my father who knew these areas better than we did. We decided to go to Kandy, and then to Hunasgiriya, where we were to turn towards Looloowatta Estate and reach the beautiful Corbet’s Gap, where the road branched off west to Mimure (3 km) and east to Kumbukgolla (3 km). The next major hurdle was organising transport. In all our previous college trips we used public transport, but this trip required a vehicle. For our good fortune, Chandi’s father allowed us the use of his Toyota Lightace van, and all was set to go.
Trip at last
Departure was set for Wednesday, August 12, 1992, and return was three nights later, on Sunday 15th. The dates were selected to take advantage of the full moon of Nikini poya, which fell on the 13th. All food items, provisions, tents, a large haversack, kettle, kerosene cooker, lamps and other paraphernalia were packed in Chandi’s van the previous night. Early next morning, along with our personal items, we left Colombo. It was a great start despite the short delay and the rather harsh rock music that blared into my ears at the back of the vehicle. The two experts who provided the music were Chandi and Nish. Their preferences were a far cry from the peaceful pop or country music that I appreciated, but for my luck Nish had brought a few cassettes of my flavour.
Many of us had brought sandwiches for breakfast, which we had whilst on the move. The idea was to lose as little time as possible by way of wayside stops. As expected, the van was in an explosive atmosphere with much chattering and laughter. After a while, we began trying out our singing skills. Tharaka knew much of the “Big match” style of Sinhala songs, while Azard and I were somewhat proficient in regular baila songs. Nish was an expert of English pop songs to which we would listen with admiration.
The drive was rather slow and comfortable with Chandi at the wheel. We reached Kandy around 10 am, and we decided to wander around the town and eventually break journey by going to the house of Nish’s aunt for snacks and drinks. After delaying a short time in Kandy, we again took the road. Though the road conditions were not at their best, it was quite a scenic route. We passed the Victoria reservoir, where the water level was low at the time, and reached Hunnasgiriya around 2.30 pm. There, with the help of directions from a wayside villager, we proceeded north towards Looloowatta Estate.
Road conditions became less comfortable and we had to proceed quite slowly, with the van bouncing along. For our luck, there was no rain although it was pretty overcast. By 3.45 pm or so we reached Looloowatta Estate, and though all were now hungry, there was no time to waste as our overall plan of reaching Kumbukgolla in time was of higher priority. With the cloudy sky, it turned out to be slightly chilly.
At the small town of Looloowatta, we stopped for directions once again, and there we were asked if we could give three hefty men a lift to Mimure. We did not think it was a good idea to overload the vehicle. Then two of them explained to us that the third member was the officer in charge of the Police Station at Mimure, and requested us to oblige by giving only him a lift. We agreed and put him in the front seat. Chandi wanted me to take the wheel. One reason was his being tired, and the other was his thinking that I was better at keeping the guest company.
Knuckles
This was the first time I was driving a van, and I took off in the manner of driving the Land Rover back home. However, it did not take long to figure out that the van had much softer suspension as it bounced and oscillated frightfully. I proceeded slowly on the road going northwards towards Corbet’s Gap and admiring the beautiful mountain scenery amidst the coolness of the evening. The vegetation around and the long grass that covered the sides of the road were added attractions. I kept on chatting with the policeman, who gave relevant details of the area and pointed out the various mountain peaks, but the others at the back of the van observed silence, probably induced by hunger. We had proceeded a few kilometres down the road and I was keeping slightly to the left, as there was a deep drop into the ravine below on the right. There was plenty of grass on the roadside to the left. I enjoyed the beautiful view while driving.
Suddenly there was a loud explosion which shook the whole vehicle. I felt it strongly on the steering. There was an eerie rumble as I slowed down the vehicle to a stop. We were in a state of shock and surprise. We got down in a hurry and rushed to check what was wrong. We found the left front tyre deflated with a two-inch gash on it. It was a huge blow to us since we had a long way to go and we could not proceed without a spare wheel. I was upset as it was I who was driving Chandi’s van. We were wondering what caused the gash in the tyre as there was apparently nothing on the surface of the road to account for it. However, on closer inspection, we discovered rocks with jagged edges under the soft carpet of beautiful grass on the roadside. One of them was likely to be responsible for the damage.
It was a rude introduction to the new terrain we were in. The policeman, who was rather calm, had a look at the tyre and declared he would get it repaired so that we could collect it when we visited Mimure a day later. He sounded rather confident, and that gave us some relief. It also made us realise how lucky we were to have given him the lift. He also gave us permission to camp next to the bridge over the river Heen Ganga, a tributary of Mahaweli, that went through Meemure.
I let Chandi take over the wheel since I was feeling rather bad at what had happened. We passed the beautiful Corbet’s Gap and eventually came to the fork on the road. The road up to this point was tarred and very much motorable. But now, both branches of the fork were typical jeep tracks with large rocks on the gravel surface. The time was around 4.30 pm and it was getting late. We took the left branch going to Mimure to drop the policeman. A few of us had to literally walk with the vehicle, moving aside rocks on the road that could damage the tyres and the suspension. Driving was not getting any easier, with the eyes straining to watch out for danger spots.
We proceeded a good two km before we came to the police station, at which point the policeman got down with the damaged wheel in his care. We came back on the same route, and then went down the other branch of the fork, going west to the Kumbukgolla village. The road was no better, and we eventually came to Kumbukgolla around 6 pm.
Heenbanda’s house was only about 100 metres away, yet we had to take the van across a dry tributary of Heen Ganga that was studded with boulders. By this time, word had got round of our arrival and Heenbanda, accompanied by many villagers, was there to greet us. We were accorded a warm welcome and Heenbanda was happy to see me. We talked of our previous trips there, as well as my brother’s. Heenbanda wanted us to take the vehicle to his house and taking command of the operation, he ordered and directed the villagers around who virtually lifted the van across the difficult, large rocks.
The sun had set a good half an hour earlier, yet there was some daylight available. So we rushed into unloading only our bags and a few other essential items, as we knew we had to take off to Mimure the next day. We were getting accommodation in one huge room, which was a good portion of Heenbanda’s house. It had a neatly tiled roof, a cemented unpolished floor, white plastered walls and sufficient furniture for us to sit and make ourselves comfortable.
We were all eagerly waiting to have a wash, when we were informed that it would have to be at the river that we crossed. Since we were all dog-tired, a bathroom would have been most welcome. Now that we had to walk upstream searching for water in the dark and in cold weather, the eagerness to have a bath was somewhat diluted. Heenbanda was sending a guide with us to take us to the bathing spot, and we motivated ourselves to rush with the wash as there was still some light outside. We walked upstream about 100 metres from where we crossed the river, and there it was, water being channeled along strips of banana stems acting as a gutter. The water was quite cold, but after completing the wash with the help of kerosene lamps, it was indeed quite refreshing. We rushed back to our abode shivering and got into warmer clothes.
Heenbanda and his wife, a nice quiet and elderly lady served us with an early dinner and we were once again rejuvenated. There was no electricity but a number of kerosene oil lamps were lit, and we were provided with woven mats, one each for the six of us to sleep on. Once bedding was arranged, we had Heenbanda’s permission to take a walk in the night. We stepped out with our torches, and it was a beautiful night with plenty of moonlight. I proudly took a branded American 3-cell torch, which was very effective and not very common at the time. We decided to walk to the riverbed to relax, and then as the ever-so-hungry or thirsty lot wanted to have coffee, I thought it best to test the new kerosene cooker. We took it out of the van with the kettle, cups, coffee, milk and sugar, and took a cool walk to the riverbed.
(To be continued)
Features
Making ‘Sinhala Studies’ globally relevant
On 8 January 2026, I delivered a talk at an event at the University of Colombo marking the retirement of my longtime friend and former Professor of Sinhala, Ananda Tissa Kumara and his appointment as Emeritus Professor of Sinhala in that university. What I said has much to do with decolonising social sciences and humanities and the contributions countries like ours can make to the global discourses of knowledge in these broad disciplines. I have previously discussed these issues in this column, including in my essay, ‘Does Sri Lanka Contribute to the Global Intellectual Expansion of Social Sciences and Humanities?’ published on 29 October 2025 and ‘Can Asians Think? Towards Decolonising Social Sciences and Humanities’ published on 31 December 2025.
At the recent talk, I posed a question that relates directly to what I have raised earlier but drew from a specific type of knowledge scholars like Prof Ananda Tissa Kumara have produced over a lifetime about our cultural worlds. I do not refer to their published work on Sinhala, Pali and Sanskrit languages, their histories or grammars; instead, their writing on various aspects of Sinhala culture. Erudite scholars familiar with Tamil sources have written extensively on Tamil culture in this same manner, which I will not refer to here.
To elaborate, let me refer to a several essays written by Professor Tissa Kumara over the years in the Sinhala language: 1) Aspects of Sri Lankan town planning emerging from Sinhala Sandesha poetry; 2) Health practices emerging from inscriptions of the latter part of the Anuradhapura period; 3) Buddhist religious background described in inscriptions of the Kandyan period; 4) Notions of aesthetic appreciation emerging from Sigiri poetry; 5) Rituals related to Sinhala clinical procedures; 6) Customs linked to marriage taboos in Sinhala society; 7) Food habits of ancient and medieval Lankans; and 8) The decline of modern Buddhist education. All these essays by Prof. Tissa Kumara and many others like them written by others remain untranslated into English or any other global language that holds intellectual power. The only exceptions would be the handful of scholars who also wrote in English or some of their works happened to be translated into English, an example of the latter being Prof. M.B. Ariyapala’s classic, Society in Medieval Ceylon.
The question I raised during my lecture was, what does one do with this knowledge and whether it is not possible to use this kind of knowledge profitably for theory building, conceptual and methodological fine-tuning and other such essential work mostly in the domain of abstract thinking that is crucially needed for social sciences and humanities. But this is not an interest these scholars ever entertained. Except for those who wrote fictionalised accounts such as unsubstantiated stories on mythological characters like Rawana, many of these scholars amassed detailed information along with their sources. This focus on sources is evident even in the titles of many of Prof. Tissa Kumara’s work referred to earlier. Rather than focusing on theorising or theory-based interpretations, these scholars’ aim was to collect and present socio-cultural material that is inaccessible to most others in society including people like myself. Either we know very little of such material or are completely unaware of their existence. But they are important sources of our collective history indicating what we are where we have come from and need to be seen as a specific genre of research.
In this sense, people like Prof. Tissa Kumara and his predecessors are human encyclopedias. But the knowledge they produced, when situated in the context of global knowledge production in general, remains mostly as ‘raw’ information albeit crucial. The pertinent question now is what do we do with this information? They can, of course, remain as it is. My argument however is this knowledge can be a serious source for theory-building and constructing philosophy based on a deeper understanding of the histories of our country and of the region and how people in these areas have dealt with the world over time.
Most scholars in our country and elsewhere in the region believe that the theoretical and conceptual apparatuses needed for our thinking – clearly manifest in social sciences and humanities – must necessarily be imported from the ‘west.’ It is this backward assumption, but specifically in reference to Indian experiences on social theory, that Prathama Banerjee and her colleagues observe in the following words: “theory appears as a ready-made body of philosophical thought, produced in the West …” As they further note, in this situation, “the more theory-inclined among us simply pick the latest theory off-the-shelf and ‘apply’ it to our context” disregarding its provincial European or North American origin, because of the false belief “that “‘theory’ is by definition universal.” What this means is that like in India, in countries like ours too, the “relationship to theory is dependent, derivative, and often deeply alienated.”
In a somewhat similar critique in his 2000 book, Provincialising Europe: Postcolonial Thought and Historical Difference Dipesh Chakrabarty points to the limitations of Western social sciences in explaining the historical experiences of political modernity in South Asia. He attempted to renew Western and particularly European thought “from and for the margins,” and bring in diverse histories from regions that were marginalised in global knowledge production into the mainstream discourse of knowledge. In effect, this means making histories of countries like ours relevant in knowledge production.
The erroneous and blind faith in the universality of theory is evident in our country too whether it is the unquestioned embrace of modernist theories and philosophies or their postmodern versions. The heroes in this situation generally remain old white men from Marx to Foucault and many in between. This indicates the kind of unhealthy dependence local discourses of theory owe to the ‘west’ without any attempt towards generating serious thinking on our own.
In his 2002 essay, ‘Dismal State of Social Sciences in Pakistan,’ Akbar Zaidi points out how Pakistani social scientists blindly apply imported “theoretical arguments and constructs to Pakistani conditions without questioning, debating or commenting on the theory itself.” Similarly, as I noted in my 2017 essay, ‘Reclaiming Social Sciences and Humanities: Notes from South Asia,’ Sri Lankan social sciences and humanities have “not seriously engaged in recent times with the dominant theoretical constructs that currently hold sway in the more academically dominant parts of the world.” Our scholars also have not offered any serious alternate constructions of their own to the world without going crudely nativistic or exclusivist.
This situation brings me back to the kind of knowledge that scholars like Prof. Tissa Kumara have produced. Philosophy, theory or concepts generally emerge from specific historical and temporal conditions. Therefore, they are difficult to universalise or generalise without serious consequences. This does not mean that some ideas would not have universal applicability with or without minor fine tuning. In general, however, such bodies of abstract knowledge should ideally be constructed with reference to the histories and contemporary socio-political circumstances
from where they emerge that may have applicability to other places with similar histories. This is what Banerjee and her colleagues proposed in their 2016 essay, ‘The Work of Theory: Thinking Across Traditions’. This is also what decolonial theorists such as Walter Mignolo, Enrique Dussel and Aníbal Quijano have referred to as ‘decolonizing Western epistemology’ and ‘building decolonial epistemologies.’
My sense is, scholars like Prof. Tissa Kumara have amassed at least some part of such knowledge that can be used for theory-building that has so far not been used for this purpose. Let me refer to two specific examples that have local relevance which will place my argument in context. Historian and political scientist Benedict Anderson argued in his influential 1983 book, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism that notions of nationalism led to the creation of nations or, as he calls them, ‘imagined communities.’ For him, unlike many others, European nation states emerged in response to the rise of ‘nationalism’ in the overseas European settlements, especially in the Western Hemisphere. But it was still a form of thinking that had Europe at its center.
Comparatively, we can consider Stephen Kemper’s 1991 book, The Presence of the Past: Chronicles, Politics, and Culture in Sinhala Life where the American anthropologist explored the ways in which Sinhala ‘national’ identity evolved over time along with a continual historical consciousness because of the existence of texts such as Mahawamsa. In other words, the Sinhala past manifests with social practices that have continued from the ancient past among which are chronicle-keeping, maintaining sacred places, and venerating heroes.
In this context, his argument is that Sinhala nationalism predates the rise of nationalist movements in Europe by over a thousand years, thereby challenging the hegemonic arguments such as those of Anderson, Ernest Gellner, Elie Kedourie and others who link nationalism as a modern phenomenon impacted by Europe in some way or another. Kemper was able to come to his interpretation by closely reading Lankan texts such as Mahawamsa and other Pali chronicles and more critically, theorizing what is in these texts. Such interpretable material is what has been presented by Prof. Tissa Kumara and others, sans the sing.
Similarly, local texts in Sinhala such as kadaim poth’ and vitti poth, which are basically narratives of local boundaries and descriptions of specific events written in the Dambadeniya and Kandyan periods are replete with crucial information. This includes local village and district boundaries, the different ethno-cultural groups that lived in and came to settle in specific places in these kingdoms, migratory events, wars and so on. These texts as well as European diplomatic dispatches and political reports from these times, particularly during the Kandyan period, refer to the cosmopolitanism in the Kandyan kingdom particularly its court, the military, town planning and more importantly the religious tolerance which even surprised the European observers and latter-day colonial rulers. Again, much of this comes from local sources or much less focused upon European dispatches of the time.
Scholars like Prof. Tissa Kumara have collected this kind of information as well as material from much older times and sources. What would the conceptual categories, such as ethnicity, nationalism, cosmopolitanism be like if they are reinterpreted or cast anew through these histories, rather than merely following their European and North American intellectual and historical slants which is the case at present? Among the questions we can ask are, whether these local idiosyncrasies resulted from Buddhism or local cultural practices we may not know much about at present but may exist in inscriptions, in ola leaf manuscripts or in other materials collected and presented by scholars such as Prof. Tissa Kumara.
For me, familiarizing ourselves with this under- and unused archive and employing them for theory-building as well as for fine-tuning what already exists is the main intellectual role we can play in taking our cultural knowledge to the world in a way that might make sense beyond the linguistic and socio-political borders of our country. Whether our universities and scholars are ready to attempt this without falling into the trap of crude nativisms, be satisfied with what has already been collected, but is untheorized or if they would rather lackadaisically remain shackled to ‘western’ epistemologies in the sense articulated by decolonial theorists remains to be seen.
Features
Extinction in isolation: Sri Lanka’s lizards at the climate crossroads
Climate change is no longer a distant or abstract threat to Sri Lanka’s biodiversity. It is already driving local extinctions — particularly among lizards trapped in geographically isolated habitats, where even small increases in temperature can mean the difference between survival and disappearance.
According to research by Buddhi Dayananda, Thilina Surasinghe and Suranjan Karunarathna, Sri Lanka’s narrowly distributed lizards are among the most vulnerable vertebrates in the country, with climate stress intensifying the impacts of habitat loss, fragmentation and naturally small population sizes.
Isolation Turns Warming into an Extinction Trap
Sri Lanka’s rugged topography and long geological isolation have produced extraordinary levels of reptile endemism. Many lizard species are confined to single mountains, forest patches or rock outcrops, existing nowhere else on Earth. While this isolation has driven evolution, it has also created conditions where climate change can rapidly trigger extinction.
“Lizards are especially sensitive to environmental temperature because their metabolism, activity patterns and reproduction depend directly on external conditions,” explains Suranjan Karunarathna, a leading herpetologist and co-author of the study. “When climatic thresholds are exceeded, geographically isolated species cannot shift their ranges. They are effectively trapped.”
The study highlights global projections indicating that nearly 40 percent of local lizard populations could disappear in coming decades, while up to one-fifth of all lizard species worldwide may face extinction by 2080 if current warming trends persist.
- Cnemaspis_gunawardanai (Adult Female), Pilikuttuwa, Gampaha District
- Cnemaspis_ingerorum (Adult Male), Sithulpauwa, Hambantota District
- Cnemaspis_hitihamii (Adult Female), Maragala, Monaragala District
- Cnemaspis_gunasekarai (Adult Male), Ritigala, Anuradapura District
- Cnemaspis_dissanayakai (Adult Male), Dimbulagala, Polonnaruwa District
- Cnemaspis_kandambyi (Adult Male), Meemure, Matale District
Heat Stress, Energy Loss and Reproductive Failure
Rising temperatures force lizards to spend more time in shelters to avoid lethal heat, reducing their foraging time and energy intake. Over time, this leads to chronic energy deficits that undermine growth and reproduction.
“When lizards forage less, they have less energy for breeding,” Karunarathna says. “This doesn’t always cause immediate mortality, but it slowly erodes populations.”
Repeated exposure to sub-lethal warming has been shown to increase embryonic mortality, reduce hatchling size, slow post-hatch growth and compromise body condition. In species with temperature-dependent sex determination, warming can skew sex ratios, threatening long-term population viability.
“These impacts often remain invisible until populations suddenly collapse,” Karunarathna warns.
Tropical Species with No Thermal Buffer
The research highlights that tropical lizards such as those in Sri Lanka are particularly vulnerable because they already live close to their physiological thermal limits. Unlike temperate species, they experience little seasonal temperature variation and therefore possess limited behavioural or evolutionary flexibility to cope with rapid warming.
“Even modest temperature increases can have severe consequences in tropical systems,” Karunarathna explains. “There is very little room for error.”
Climate change also alters habitat structure. Canopy thinning, tree mortality and changes in vegetation density increase ground-level temperatures and reduce the availability of shaded refuges, further exposing lizards to heat stress.
Narrow Ranges, Small Populations
Many Sri Lankan lizards exist as small, isolated populations restricted to narrow altitudinal bands or specific microhabitats. Once these habitats are degraded — through land-use change, quarrying, infrastructure development or climate-driven vegetation loss — entire global populations can vanish.
“Species confined to isolated hills and rock outcrops are especially at risk,” Karunarathna says. “Surrounding human-modified landscapes prevent movement to cooler or more suitable areas.”
Even protected areas offer no guarantee of survival if species occupy only small pockets within reserves. Localised disturbances or microclimatic changes can still result in extinction.
Climate Change Amplifies Human Pressures
The study emphasises that climate change will intensify existing human-driven threats, including habitat fragmentation, land-use change and environmental degradation. Together, these pressures create extinction cascades that disproportionately affect narrowly distributed species.
“Climate change acts as a force multiplier,” Karunarathna explains. “It worsens the impacts of every other threat lizards already face.”
Without targeted conservation action, many species may disappear before they are formally assessed or fully understood.
Science Must Shape Conservation Policy
Researchers stress the urgent need for conservation strategies that recognise micro-endemism and climate vulnerability. They call for stronger environmental impact assessments, climate-informed land-use planning and long-term monitoring of isolated populations.
“We cannot rely on broad conservation measures alone,” Karunarathna says. “Species that exist in a single location require site-specific protection.”
The researchers also highlight the importance of continued taxonomic and ecological research, warning that extinction may outpace scientific discovery.
A Vanishing Evolutionary Legacy
Sri Lanka’s lizards are not merely small reptiles hidden from view; they represent millions of years of unique evolutionary history. Their loss would be irreversible.
“Once these species disappear, they are gone forever,” Karunarathna says. “Climate change is moving faster than our conservation response, and isolation means there are no second chances.”
By Ifham Nizam ✍️
Features
Online work compatibility of education tablets
Enabling Education-to-Income Pathways through Dual-Use Devices
The deployment of tablets and Chromebook-based devices for emergency education following Cyclone Ditwah presents an opportunity that extends beyond short-term academic continuity. International experience demonstrates that the same category of devices—when properly governed and configured—can support safe, ethical, and productive online work, particularly for youth and displaced populations. This annex outlines the types of online jobs compatible with such devices, their technical limitations, and their strategic national value within Sri Lanka’s recovery and human capital development agenda.
Compatible Categories of Online Work
At the foundational level, entry-level digital jobs are widely accessible through Android tablets and Chromebook devices. These roles typically require basic digital literacy, language comprehension, and sustained attention rather than advanced computing power. Common examples include data tagging and data validation tasks, AI training activities such as text, image, or voice labelling, online surveys and structured research tasks, digital form filling, and basic transcription work. These activities are routinely hosted on Google task-based platforms, global AI crowdsourcing systems, and micro-task portals operated by international NGOs and UN agencies. Such models have been extensively utilised in countries including India, the Philippines, Kenya, and Nepal, particularly in post-disaster and low-income contexts.
At an intermediate level, freelance and gig-based work becomes viable, especially when Chromebook tablets such as the Lenovo Chromebook Duet or Acer Chromebook Tab are used with detachable keyboards. These devices are well suited for content writing and editing, Sinhala–Tamil–English translation work, social media management, Canva-based design assignments, and virtual assistant roles. Chromebooks excel in this domain because they provide full browser functionality, seamless integration with Google Docs and Sheets (including offline drafting and later (synchronization), reliable file upload capabilities, and stable video conferencing through platforms such as Google Meet or Zoom. Freelancers across Southeast Asia and Africa already rely heavily on Chromebook-class devices for such work, demonstrating their suitability in bandwidth- and power-constrained environments.
A third category involves remote employment and structured part-time work, which is also feasible on Chromebook tablets when paired with a keyboard and headset. These roles include online tutoring support, customer service through chat or email, research assistance, and entry-level digital bookkeeping. While such work requires a more consistent internet connection—often achievable through mobile hotspots—it does not demand high-end hardware. The combination of portability, long battery life, and browser-based platforms makes these devices adequate for such employment models.
Functional Capabilities and Limitations
It is important to clearly distinguish what these devices can and cannot reasonably support. Tablets and Chromebooks are highly effective for web-based jobs, Google Workspace-driven tasks, cloud platforms, online interviews conducted via Zoom or Google Meet, and the use of digital wallets and electronic payment systems. However, they are not designed for heavy video editing, advanced software development environments, or professional engineering and design tools such as AutoCAD. This limitation does not materially reduce their relevance, as global labour market data indicate that approximately 70–75 per cent of online work worldwide is browser-based and fully compatible with tablet-class devices.
Device Suitability for Dual Use
Among commonly deployed devices, the Chromebook Duet and Acer Chromebook Tab offer the strongest balance between learning and online work, making them the most effective all-round options. Android tablets such as the Samsung Galaxy Tab A8 or A9 and the Nokia T20 also perform reliably when supplemented with keyboards, with the latter offering particularly strong battery endurance. Budget-oriented devices such as the Xiaomi Redmi Pad remain suitable for learning and basic work tasks, though with some limitations in sustained productivity. Across all device types, battery efficiency remains a decisive advantage.
Power and Energy Considerations
In disaster-affected and power-scarce environments, tablets outperform conventional laptops. A battery life of 10–12 hours effectively supports a full day of online work or study. Offline drafting of documents with later synchronisation further reduces dependence on continuous connectivity. The use of solar chargers and power banks can extend operational capacity significantly, making these devices particularly suitable for temporary shelters and community learning hubs.
Payment and Income Feasibility in the Sri Lankan Context
From a financial inclusion perspective, these devices are fully compatible with commonly used payment systems. Platforms such as PayPal (within existing national constraints), Payoneer, Wise, LankaQR, local banking applications, and NGO stipend mechanisms are all accessible through Android and ChromeOS environments. Notably, many Sri Lankan freelancers already conduct income-generating activities entirely via mobile devices, confirming the practical feasibility of tablet-based earning.
Strategic National Value
The dual use of tablets for both education and income generation carries significant strategic value for Sri Lanka. It helps prevent long-term dependency by enabling families to rebuild livelihoods, creates structured earning pathways for youth, and transforms disaster relief interventions into resilience-building investments. This approach supports a human resource management–driven recovery model rather than a welfare-dependent one. It aligns directly with the outcomes sought by the Ministry of Education, the Ministry of Labour and HRM reform initiatives, and broader national productivity and competitiveness goals.
Policy Positioning under the Vivonta / PPA Framework
Within the Vivonta/Proprietary Planters Alliance national response framework, it is recommended that these devices be formally positioned as “Learning + Livelihood Tablets.” This designation reflects their dual public value and supports a structured governance approach. Devices should be configured with dual profiles—Student and Worker—supplemented by basic digital job readiness modules, clear ethical guidance on online work, and safeguards against exploitation, particularly for vulnerable populations.
Performance Indicators
From a monitoring perspective, the expected reach of such an intervention is high, encompassing students, youth, and displaced adults. The anticipated impact is very high, as it directly enables the transition from education to income generation. Confidence in the approach is high due to extensive global precedent, while the required effort remains moderate, centering primarily on training, coordination, and platform curation rather than capital-intensive investment.
We respectfully invite the Open University of Sri Lanka, Derana, Sirasa, Rupavahini, DP Education, and Janith Wickramasinghe, National Online Job Coach, to join hands under a single national banner—
“Lighting the Dreams of Sri Lanka’s Emerging Leaders.”
by Lalin I De Silva, FIPM (SL) ✍️
-
Business3 days agoKoaloo.Fi and Stredge forge strategic partnership to offer businesses sustainable supply chain solutions
-
Business7 days agoDialog and UnionPay International Join Forces to Elevate Sri Lanka’s Digital Payment Landscape
-
Editorial2 days agoThe Chakka Clash
-
News7 days agoSajith: Ashoka Chakra replaces Dharmachakra in Buddhism textbook
-
News16 hours agoUNDP’s assessment confirms widespread economic fallout from Cyclone Ditwah
-
Editorial16 hours agoCrime and cops
-
Features7 days agoThe Paradox of Trump Power: Contested Authoritarian at Home, Uncontested Bully Abroad
-
Features7 days agoSubject:Whatever happened to (my) three million dollars?







