By Sarath Obeysekera

Every evening, Sri Lankan television channels carry scenes of university students marching on roads, shouting slogans, demanding hostel facilities, allowances, subsidies, and various concessions from the State.

As I watched these young faces on television recently, I could not help but think about their parents — mothers and fathers in villages and towns across Sri Lanka who struggle daily with the rising cost of living, hoping their children will study hard, graduate with dignity, and one day serve the nation.

Sri Lanka is one of the very few countries in Asia that still provides free university education funded by taxpayers. This is a remarkable achievement for a developing country burdened with debt and economic hardship. The ordinary labourer, farmer, fisherman, garment worker, and small businessman indirectly contribute through taxes so that university students can receive higher education without tuition fees.

But the question that arises is this:

Has free education gradually transformed from an opportunity into an entitlement culture?

In countries such as the United Kingdom, students — including local students — pay for accommodation, food, and personal expenses. Many undertake part-time employment in restaurants, supermarkets, delivery services, libraries, farms, and hotels. Some wash dishes, clean buildings, stack shelves, or work night shifts to support their education. These experiences not only build discipline but also dignity of labour and self-respect.

Even in wealthy nations, university students are not expected to depend entirely on the State.

In our own younger days in Sri Lanka, many students undertook difficult jobs during vacations or weekends. Some washed plates in hotels, swept roads, worked at construction sites, assisted in workshops, repaired bridges, or carried sacks in stores. There was no shame in honest work. Those experiences created resilience, humility, and appreciation for opportunity.

Today, however, there appears to be a dangerous mindset developing among certain segments of youth — the belief that the Government must provide everything: education, accommodation, transport, meals, allowances, and employment after graduation.

A nation cannot progress if educated youth believe that responsibility belongs only to the State.

University life should not merely produce graduates with degrees; it should produce disciplined citizens capable of contributing to economic growth. A few hours of part-time employment per week would not destroy education. On the contrary, it would prepare students for real life, expose them to society, and reduce the financial burden on struggling taxpayers.

Sri Lanka today desperately needs productivity, innovation, entrepreneurship, and practical thinking. The country cannot continue borrowing money to sustain an expanding culture of dependency.

This does not mean abandoning poor students. Genuine hardship cases must absolutely be supported. Scholarships, targeted hostel facilities, and financial aid should be available for deserving students from underprivileged backgrounds. But blanket demands and perpetual protests cannot become the culture of higher education.

Education is a privilege funded by society. In return, society expects responsibility, gratitude, and contribution.

The youth of Sri Lanka possess enormous talent and intelligence. If channelled correctly, they can become engineers, scientists, entrepreneurs, innovators, and nation builders. But if they are continuously encouraged to protest for entitlements rather than strive for self-reliance, the nation risks producing frustration instead of progress.

A developing country cannot become prosperous through dependency.

It can only rise through dignity of labour, discipline, sacrifice, and responsibility.

Regards

Dr Sarath Obeysekera