It’s the heat that hits you first—the warm, humid air wrapping around you as soon as you step into the bustle of the airport, alive with movement, noise and colour.
Every time I arrive in Sri Lanka, the feeling is the same: home.
Coming home means sitting around the dining table I grew up with, eating kiribath (milk rice), lunu miris (a chillie onion sambal) and a fish curry as the very first order of business. Sri Lankan food is as abundant as it is delicious, and I know this will certainly not be the last memorable meal.
Home also means time with my parents. We share a close relationship, built on love, care and the deep belief they always had in me. They opened doors and made space for my dreams, ensuring I had access to education, mentorship, cultural understanding, global awareness and opportunities beyond what was familiar.
Education was non-negotiable in our household. There was never a distinction between what my brother and I were encouraged to pursue. We were taught to dream boldly and then supported to plan, work and step into those dreams.
Because of that support, I went on to complete a master’s degree at a university in England. Not because the path was easy, but because my parents consistently equipped me with the confidence, resources and freedom to say yes to every opportunity.
I was given every chance to realise my potential.
Just a few kilometres down the road, the story isn’t quite the same.
A few kilometres away, a world apart
In Colombo, the capital city where I grew up, it’s startling how a short distance can mean a dramatic shift in opportunity. One of Compassion’s local child development centres is located just a 40-minute drive from my childhood home. Yet the children who attend this centre live below the poverty line.
Sri Lanka’s poverty rate has risen for four consecutive years. In 2023, it exceeded 25 per cent—more than double pre-COVID levels in 2019—driven largely by an ongoing economic crisis. As inflation soared, purchasing power collapsed. Wages fell, employment became unstable, income from overseas declined and countless households were pushed deeper into hardship.
While some economic indicators have improved, many families are still struggling to meet their most basic needs: food, shelter and clothing.
But poverty has never been only about money.
Poverty impacts every dimension of life—spiritual, physical, cognitive and socio-emotional. For children growing up in poverty, the cost is especially devastating. Beyond the lack of nutrition, medical care, education and vocational training, something even more precious is lost: the ability to dream. Survival becomes the priority, because it has to. And when survival consumes everything, the future begins to feel small, uncertain and out of reach.
When life is about getting through today, imagining tomorrow feels impossible.
And for girls, the barriers are even higher.
The struggle for girls living in poverty
Sri Lanka is an island nation with a population of over 22 million—51 per cent of whom are women. Yet it is a historically patriarchal society. While this reality has shifted in more urban, higher socio-economic contexts, for many families living in poverty, traditional norms still limit opportunity, particularly for girls and women.
This is not unique to Sri Lanka.
In 2026, women and girls around the world continue to face systemic social and economic barriers that hold their futures at bay. While progress has been made, the numbers tell a sobering story:
According to the United Nations:
- One in every 10 women in the world lives in extreme poverty.
- Since 2017, the number of women and girls living in conflict-affected areas has doubled, reaching over 614 million. In these regions, women are 7.7 times more likely to experience extreme poverty than men.
- At prime working age, only 61 per cent of women participate in the labour force compared with 90 per cent of men.
For girls growing up in poverty, the ability to dream is often quietly taken away, by circumstance, expectation and limitation.
This is where Compassion steps in.
Every child deserves to dream, but every dream needs a plan
Compassion’s approach to child development is holistic. It goes beyond meeting basic needs to nurturing hope, confidence and vision for the future.
Every child in Compassion’s Child Sponsorship Program is encouraged to dream of a brighter future. Through the My Plan for Tomorrow workbook, children articulate their dreams, set goals and identify the practical steps needed to achieve them.
In Sri Lanka, I met a group of remarkable young women in the Compassion program who are daring to dream beyond the confines of poverty.
I made the 40-minute drive to the Compassion centre in Colombo and met Nishanthini, who dreams of becoming an HR manager, Sugikala, who hopes to work as an event planner, Shalini, an aspiring fashion designer, and Shelani, who wants to become a psychologist so she can help others.
Angeline, the project director, explains that at first, many children struggle to imagine what their future could hold.
“But gradually, as they grow up, they come up with a clear plan,” she says. “My Plan for Tomorrow is really useful and I have seen a big difference in the children.”
Through Compassion’s child development program, these girls are not just learning to dream but also putting practical steps in place to make those dreams a reality. And they are not alone. They have each other to encourage, support and journey together towards that brighter future.
Compassion’s role in Sri Lanka
Compassion has been working in Sri Lanka since 2010, partnering with over 135 local partners to love, serve and care for more than 29,800 children across the island.
Sharon, Regional Vice President for Asia, recalls joining Compassion during those early years, as the country was beginning to recover from nearly three decades of civil war.
“When Compassion started, we had just come out of war and a lot of people had been displaced. Most of them, especially in the northeast, did not have any hope at all,” says Sharon.
This year marks a full-circle moment: the first group of children registered during those early years in Sri Lanka are now graduating from the program.
“It's a wonderful moment,” says Sharon, with a smile on his face.
The rural reality
Travelling deeper into Sri Lanka’s hill country, into more rural communities, the challenges remain—often more intensely felt. As a woman, I was particularly struck by the contrast between the opportunities I was afforded growing up and the barriers that women and girls in these communities continue to face.
Kogila, a Trips and Visits Specialist with Compassion, shared her own story with me. Growing up just around the corner from the centres we were visiting, she has lived experience of the societal pressures and limitations placed on girls like her.
While urban areas are seeing greater progress toward gender equality, Kogila explains that rural contexts—especially within families and workplaces—remain deeply unequal.
Another persistent challenge is early child marriage. While Sri Lanka’s overall rate is lower than in many other countries in the region, pockets of early marriage still exist—particularly in communities affected by poverty and instability.
“In Sri Lanka, almost 10 per cent of children face child marriage,” says Sharon. “It destroys the whole future of that child.”
At the centre of these barriers is poverty.
In extreme poverty, families often see girls as a financial burden rather than as children with potential. Early marriage can be driven by desperation, by the hope of one less mouth to feed, by perceived financial gain or by the belief that marriage offers protection.
Poverty also increases vulnerability to trafficking and exploitation, particularly across Southeast Asia. In conflict-affected or post-conflict regions, including parts of Sri Lanka, parents may believe early marriage is the safest option for their daughters—even when it robs them of education, opportunity and choice.
“Poverty plays a huge role in that,” Sharon says.
Maheshika’s story
Yet within this reality, change is taking place.
In Hatton, nestled among Sri Lanka’s lush tea-covered hills, I met Maheshika—a young woman whose life could easily have followed a very different path. She lost her father at a young age, a loss that in her community often marks the beginning of an early end to education and the quiet expectation of marriage.
Maheshika remembers the morning her father died and the day of his funeral with heartbreaking clarity. She was still very young and couldn’t fully grasp what was happening around her.
“People were crying around me, but I didn’t know why they were crying,” says Maheshika. “I climbed on to a chair to be able to see my father in the coffin.”
That chair, she recalls, was a gift she had received from Compassion.
The loss of her father affected Maheshika deeply. She withdrew, isolating herself and the staff at her local Compassion centre worried about her wellbeing.
“When we have parent-teacher meetings at school, there was always an empty chair beside me, while my friends had both of their parents to sit on their two chairs,” says Maheshika.
But amid the chaos of her father’s funeral, one moment stayed with her. While others attended to ceremonies and customs, Kobu—the director of the Compassion centre—came looking for her first.
“He told me that he will always be there for me,” says Maheshika. “And I remember those words until now.”
And he has been.
The Hatton child development centre was one of the very first Compassion centres established in Sri Lanka. Kobu remembers those early days clearly.
“In 2010, we started the Compassion program for the very first time in Sri Lanka, right here in our area,” says Kobu. “When we began, we had little understanding of the project, but I was certain of one thing: we were about to sow seeds of change in children’s lives.”
More than a decade later, the fruit of that decision is unmistakable. Kobu describes how Compassion’s program has reshaped not only individual lives, but entire families and communities. Children who once lacked access to tuition, private education or academic support are now stepping forward with confidence and purpose.
“After becoming part of this project, they are able to compete with others who have access to better educational opportunities,” Kobu says. Inside and outside the classroom, students have lifted their standards, proving that poverty does not define their potential.
Many speak openly about transformation. Those who once felt stuck or unable to move forward academically are discovering new hope through education. Some are now completing Advanced-Level studies, others have chosen the biology stream with dreams of becoming doctors and several have earned places in prestigious schools in Colombo.
“This project has had such a profound impact,” Kobu reflects. It is a reminder that when children are given opportunity, belief and support, their futures begin to open wide.
That commitment extends beyond academics. Kobu and the Compassion staff even established a girls’ cricket team—an intentional challenge to cultural expectations.
For Maheshika, growing up in an environment that encouraged dreaming changed everything. One day, listening to the radio, she heard a DJ offering advice live on air. Something stirred. She felt drawn to the idea of using her voice to help others and her dream of becoming a radio DJ was born.
But it wasn’t a typical path for a girl.
“There was only Home Science in our school,” says Maheshika. “But I don’t like to cook. While there were five boys doing Media, I was the only girl who chose to join.”
But her courage paved the way. Soon, other girls followed.
Kobu is deeply passionate about protecting girls like Maheshika—especially those who lose their fathers young.
“In our society, when a girl loses her father at a young age, people often believe her dreams are over,” says Kobu. “This is why, in some cases, her mother or relatives pressure her into getting married at a young age. Her focus often shifts from dreams and aspirations to simply surviving. As a society, we have a huge responsibility to support them.”
These are not just words for Kobu, they are convictions he has lived out.
In one of the most moving moments of the trip, I learned that Kobu and his family gave up their own home to create a youth development centre, complete with a small radio studio. Today, Maheshika hosts a weekly radio program there.
Maheshika is also supported by her sponsor, Dani—a 20-year-old woman she has never met yet considers a close friend through letters and shared stories. Dani is another vital part of the Compassion neighbourhood surrounding her with belief and encouragement.
“Now my biggest dream is to be a radio DJ and help other DJs by lifting them up,” says Maheshika.
Kobu couldn’t be prouder. This year, she will graduate from the program—one of the very first children registered when Compassion began work in Sri Lanka.
“Young people, including Maheshika, who will be leaving our project next year, are emerging as leaders,” says Kobu. “We are committed to supporting her in every way possible to help make her dream a reality.”
A brighter future shaped by compassion
Seeing this work in Sri Lanka was deeply personal for me. I grew up just kilometres from communities where opportunity is scarce—yet my story unfolded very differently. I was encouraged to dream, supported to learn and given the freedom to imagine a future beyond survival.
For many girls, poverty builds barriers I never had to face. It limits choice, narrows vision and silences possibility long before dreams have a chance to form. But witnessing what happens when those barriers are met with compassion filled me with hope.
When a girl is surrounded by a sponsor and a community who believe in her, something shifts. Her future begins to widen. Survival gives way to possibility. Fear gives way to hope.
This is what it means to move with compassion, not from a distance, but alongside. To walk with young girls like Maheshika, not just meeting immediate needs, but helping them dream, plan and step into the future before them.
When we choose to move with compassion, we don’t just change one life. We become part of a neighbourhood of hope—one that restores dignity, opens doors and carries young people toward brighter futures, together.
