- Fuel shortages and transport disruptions are already leading to school closures
- Lessons of the pandemic remain largely unheeded even as another crisis unfolds
- Current threat is not a distant risk, but a present and escalating disruption
- Critical components in preparedness for education continuity weak or absent
Sri Lanka’s education system is once again under threat as global instability, fuel shortages, and transport disruptions directly affect the functioning of schools across the country. Having already endured prolonged closures during the pandemic and economic crisis, students now face the prospect of renewed learning disruptions – without a clear national contingency plan in place.
In this interview, Bandaranaike Academy for Leadership and Public Policy (BALPP) Executive Director, Education Forum Sri Lanka Co-Founder, and former Secretary to the Ministry of Education and Higher Education Dr. Tara de Mel warns that the country remains acutely vulnerable and argues that education continuity must be planned, resourced, and operationalised before disruption occurs.
According to Dr. de Mel, what makes the current situation particularly concerning is the likelihood of prolonged disruption: “This is not a short-term shock like a natural disaster, but a systemic constraint tied to energy insecurity and global instability. If fuel shortages persist, school closures could extend intermittently or continuously over months. That would amount to another major interruption in learning, with long-term consequences for an entire generation.”
With the warning signs already visible in the form of fuel shortages and school closures, Dr. de Mel asserted that the question was not whether disruption would occur, but how effectively it would be managed. “Sri Lanka is once again at a critical juncture. The time to act is now,” she emphasised.
Following are excerpts:
Given the escalation of global tensions, including the US-Iran conflict and the resulting fuel and supply-chain risks, how vulnerable is Sri Lanka’s education system today to another sudden emergency?
Sri Lanka’s education system is acutely vulnerable – arguably more so now than during previous crises – because the current threat is not hypothetical but already unfolding. Fuel shortages and transport disruptions are directly translating into school closures across the country. This is not a distant risk; it is a present and escalating disruption.
The system’s fragility lies in its heavy dependence on physical attendance. When transport collapses, the entire structure of schooling collapses with it. Students cannot travel, teachers cannot report to work, and even basic administrative functioning becomes difficult. Unlike high-income countries that can rapidly pivot to well-established digital ecosystems, Sri Lanka does not yet have the infrastructure, equity of access, or institutional readiness to ensure continuity at scale.
What makes this situation particularly concerning is the likelihood of prolonged disruption. This is not a short-term shock like a natural disaster, but a systemic constraint tied to energy insecurity and global instability. If fuel shortages persist – as they very well might – school closures could extend intermittently or continuously over months. That would amount to another major interruption in learning, with long-term consequences for an entire generation.
The Covid-19 pandemic exposed deep inequities, particularly the digital divide. In a fresh crisis, would the same students be left behind again or are we better prepared now? Does Sri Lanka have a national contingency plan for education in the event of fuel shortages, transport paralysis, or prolonged school disruptions?
There has undoubtedly been some progress since 2020–2022. Device ownership has increased modestly, connectivity has improved in certain areas, and teachers are more familiar with digital tools and online pedagogy. However, these improvements should not be overstated. They are incremental, not transformative.
The fundamental inequities remain. The urban-rural divide in access to devices and reliable internet is still significant. Many students continue to rely on shared devices or basic smartphones, which are not conducive to sustained learning. Connectivity in underserved and remote areas remains inconsistent. Moreover, digital literacy – both among students and parents – is uneven.
As a result, in the event of another disruption, the same vulnerable groups are at risk of being left behind once again. These include students in rural and estate sectors, those from low-income households, and those without supportive home learning environments.
More critically, Sri Lanka still does not appear to have a comprehensive, operational national contingency plan for education in emergencies of this nature. There is no clearly articulated framework that integrates online learning, broadcast media, community-level support, and targeted interventions for the most disadvantaged. The absence of such a plan means that responses are likely to be reactive, fragmented, and uneven – precisely what we witnessed during the pandemic.
You’ve argued that preparedness must be built before a crisis hits. What are the key components Sri Lanka should already have in place but doesn’t?
Preparedness for education continuity requires a systemic approach, and several critical components are still either weak or absent.
First, there must be a robust framework for home-based learning. This goes beyond simply shifting lessons online. It requires structured curricula adapted for remote delivery, clear guidance for teachers, and mechanisms for monitoring student engagement and progress.
Second, teacher readiness is central. While many teachers gained exposure to digital tools during the pandemic, there is still a need for sustained professional development in digital pedagogy – how to teach effectively in virtual or hybrid environments, how to engage students remotely, and how to assess learning outcomes without traditional classroom interaction.
Third, equitable access to devices and connectivity remains a major gap. Without addressing this, any digital solution will inevitably deepen inequality. A national strategy for device provision – particularly for the most vulnerable students – is essential.
Fourth, we must recognise the social and psychological dimensions of school closures. During the pandemic, prolonged isolation had serious effects on children’s mental well-being. Schools are not only centres of learning but also spaces for social interaction, emotional development, and stability. Parents, therefore, need structured guidance and support – what might be termed ‘parental counselling frameworks’ – to help them manage children’s learning and well-being at home.
Finally, there must be a multi-modal approach to education delivery. Over-reliance on online platforms is neither realistic nor equitable. Television, radio, printed materials, and community-based interventions must all form part of a comprehensive preparedness strategy.
If fuel shortages or transport disruptions worsen in the coming months, what are the three immediate actions the Government and the Ministry of Education should take?
Immediate action is critical, and delays will only compound learning losses. Three priorities stand out:
- Rapid activation of a structured remote-learning framework: The Ministry of Education must urgently provide clear, standardised guidance to schools and teachers on how to deliver the curriculum remotely. This includes simplified lesson plans, prioritisation of essential learning outcomes, and practical strategies for online and offline teaching.
- Targeted support for the most disadvantaged students: Using zonal and divisional education structures, authorities should quickly identify students with little or no access to devices and connectivity. Emergency measures – such as device distribution, community learning hubs where feasible, or printed learning packs – must be deployed to prevent these students from being completely excluded.
- Nationwide communication and parental engagement: National television, radio, and social media should be used systematically to guide parents on supporting home-based learning. Clear, consistent messaging is essential to reduce confusion and anxiety. Parents need practical advice on structuring learning time, managing screen use, and supporting children emotionally.
In addition to these, decentralisation of decision-making is crucial. Schools and local education authorities should be given the flexibility to adapt responses to their specific contexts, rather than relying solely on centralised directives.
What safeguards are needed to ensure digital learning doesn’t worsen inequity, especially for students without reliable devices, connectivity, or parental support?
Without deliberate safeguards, digital learning will almost certainly exacerbate existing inequalities. To prevent this, policy responses must be explicitly equity-focused.
First, there must be direct support for underprivileged families. This includes subsidised or free devices, affordable data packages, and targeted assistance to ensure that no child is excluded purely due to economic constraints.
Second, teachers in under-resourced schools must be supported with both training and tools. Expecting teachers to deliver effective digital education without adequate resources is unrealistic and unfair.
Third, alternative delivery channels must be strengthened. Educational television and radio programming can play a critical role in reaching students who lack internet access. These should be aligned with the school curriculum and delivered in an engaging, structured manner.
Fourth, community-based solutions should be explored where possible. This could include small, localised learning groups or supervised study spaces, particularly in areas where home environments are not conducive to learning.
It is important to emphasise that many of these measures could – and should – have been initiated in the immediate aftermath of the pandemic. The current crisis was foreseeable. The failure to act on those lessons has left the system exposed once again.
You’ve spoken positively about Artificial Intelligence (AI) and digital tools like ChatGPT. In an emergency scenario, how could these tools realistically support continuity of learning in Sri Lanka?
AI and digital tools have significant potential, but their benefits will be uneven unless access issues are addressed.
For students with access to devices and connectivity, AI-powered tools can serve as personalised tutors. Platforms such as Khan Academy’s AI assistant have demonstrated how technology can provide step-by-step guidance, adaptive learning pathways, and immediate feedback. This can be particularly valuable when teacher interaction is limited.
For teachers, AI can be a powerful support tool. It can assist in lesson planning, content creation, assessment design, and even in adapting materials for different learning levels. This can reduce workload and improve the quality of remote instruction.
However, it is important to remain realistic. AI is not a substitute for a functioning education system. It is an enabler, not a solution. Its effectiveness depends entirely on access, digital literacy, and integration into a broader educational framework.
Therefore, while AI should be leveraged where possible, it must be part of a multi-layered strategy that includes low-tech and no-tech solutions to ensure inclusivity.
In an earlier interview, you warned that Sri Lanka “cannot afford to limit school education once again”. What are the irreversible costs of repeated learning disruption?
The costs of repeated disruption are profound and, in many cases, irreversible.
First, there is the issue of learning loss. When education is interrupted repeatedly, foundational skills – particularly in literacy and numeracy – are weakened. This has long-term implications for academic progression and employability.
Second, there are psychosocial impacts. Schools provide structure, social interaction, and a sense of belonging. Prolonged closures lead to isolation, anxiety, and disengagement, particularly among adolescents. Many students lose motivation altogether.
Third, inequalities widen. Students from more privileged backgrounds are able to compensate through private tuition, digital access, and supportive home environments. Those from disadvantaged backgrounds fall further behind, creating a widening gap that becomes increasingly difficult to bridge.
Fourth, there are broader societal implications. An education system that fails to deliver continuity undermines human capital development, economic productivity, and social cohesion.
As has been observed globally, the assumption that students can seamlessly transition to online learning is deeply flawed. A significant proportion lack stable internet access, appropriate devices, or conducive home environments. Others struggle with language barriers or simply disengage over time. The cumulative effect is a silent but severe erosion of educational outcomes.
Sri Lanka, having already experienced significant disruption, simply cannot afford a repeat of this trajectory.
In past crises, was the core failure one of resources or of leadership and coordination? What kind of inter-ministerial coordination is required during an education emergency? Who should be held accountable if children once again lose months or years of learning?
While resource constraints are real, the more critical failures have often been in leadership, coordination, and urgency of response.
An education emergency must be treated as exactly that – an emergency. It cannot be approached as a routine administrative issue or reduced to the question of whether schools are open or closed. The implications extend far beyond schooling into social protection, child welfare, and national development.
Effective response requires strong inter-ministerial coordination. The Ministry of Education must work closely with ministries responsible for transport, energy, telecommunications, finance, and social services. For example, ensuring connectivity for students requires collaboration with telecom providers, addressing child welfare concerns requires coordination with social services, and enabling mobility for essential education staff involves the transport and energy sectors.
Sri Lanka has, in the past, demonstrated the ability to mobilise coordinated responses in times of crisis. However, such coordination must be proactive, not reactive, and must be sustained over time.
Ultimately, accountability must rest at the highest levels of decision-making. When children lose months or years of learning, the consequences are national, not sectoral. Clear lines of responsibility, transparent monitoring, and public communication are essential to ensure that education continuity remains a top priority.
If there is one lesson policymakers must act on immediately before the next emergency hits, what is it?
The most important lesson is this: education continuity must be planned, resourced, and operationalised before disruption occurs – not after.
Crisis response cannot be improvised. It must be pre-designed, tested, and ready to deploy. This includes having a national contingency framework, trained teachers, accessible learning platforms, and targeted support systems already in place.
Equally important is the recognition that education is not a secondary concern during crises; it is central to national resilience. When education systems fail, the effects ripple across generations.
Sri Lanka is once again at a critical juncture. The warning signs are already visible in the form of fuel shortages and school closures. The question is not whether disruption will occur, but how effectively it will be managed.
The time to act is now.