Deconstructing Decolonization: The Case of Language
In this blog, I highlight some of my experiences and observations regarding the hidden presence of a hierarchical and exclusionary mindset among “locals” within the international development sector in Sri Lanka. I argue how this mindset conflicts with the goal of achieving true localization in practice and how “locals” working within this sector may inadvertently counter the localization process. These insights are based on my engagements in various capacities with INGOs, country offices, implementing organizations, and grassroots communities in the country.
Background
Beginning in 1983, Sri Lanka grappled with a 30-year-long civil war between the government and the Tamil separatist group, the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam. This conflict arose from continuous persecution and discrimination of the Tamil ethnic minority by the majority Sinhalese government.
During and after the war, Sri Lanka received support from various international multilateral agencies, aid organizations, and non-governmental organizations. Their goal was to assist communities affected by the war, primarily concentrated in the Northern and Eastern Provinces, which were deeply impacted. Since the end of the war, some organizations have closed down their operations, while others have continued working on post-war recovery, particularly in strengthening peacebuilding and reconciliation efforts between fractured communities. Despite these efforts, achieving lasting peace and reconciliation remains a challenge, even 15 years after the war. This is further complicated by the emergence of new inter-communal tensions in the last decade, including the targeting of religious minorities such as Muslims, Hindus, and Christians by the government and other forces championing Sinhala-Buddhist majoritarian nationalism.
Sri Lankan Society is Gray – Not Black and White

Discussion with two Muslim maulawis in Kattankudy, Eastern Province, with the support of a translator/interpreter.
Navigating localization is difficult in Sri Lanka, stemming from culture- and context-specific power dynamics. One lingering effect in post-colonial nations is the inability to break free from rigid power structures, which become increasingly complex as we go deeper into the root of the problem. These hierarchies are influenced by factors such as language, religion, ethnicity, gender, caste, age, employment, and area of residence, and their multiple intersections.
In Paul George’s article for CDA, his problematization of the word “local” in India is highly relevant to Sri Lanka as well. The absence of a clear definition of “local” and their position within the hierarchy creates uncertainty about who exactly we are engaging with, whether this is the right “local person” to engage with, and how rapidly the distinctions blur in localization efforts. In this context, it boils down to identifying who is close enough to meet the predefined criteria to be recognized as “local” by international organizations, yet powerful enough within their own communities to remain closest to these international organizations and access support, all within the rushed timeframe of a given project.
If international organizations shy away from exploring these gray areas and difficult questions, support may be carelessly directed away from where it is most needed.
Making international staff aware of these structural challenges is ideally the responsibility of “local” staff in country offices. They should help identify the real issues on the ground and redirect support to address them. However, the lack of discussion about the nuanced issues within localization has left me questioning what is preventing these problems from receiving the necessary attention. The following section highlights some of my key observations and experiences, as well as what I believe to be a fundamental issue that might help in understanding this problem with greater clarity.
Case in Point: The Importance of Language
In some of the country offices I have interacted with, there is a clear trend in the composition of the workforce. Often, proper representation of Sri Lanka’s diverse communities is lacking. The general preference tends to favour English-speaking, preferably Western-educated staff who can converse with donors about peacebuilding and reconciliation, rather than challenge their preconceived notions of what is needed at the community level. Prioritizing English as the primary language of competence limits the reach of crucial ground-level insights to those with the most resources.
Closely related to the lack of diversity in the workforce, another worrisome issue I notice is how knowing a local language, especially Tamil, is often used in a tokenistic manner rather than being recognized as a marker of skill or a need for meaningful inclusion. In addition, there is a lack of acknowledgement regarding the complexities and sensitivities of language for many people, despite it being a significant determinant of conflict in the country, both historically and currently. This is a conversation I have had with many of my Tamil-speaking colleagues in different parts of the country, who have highlighted the insufficient attention given to specific intra-language concerns. The Tamil language has many dialectical differences defined by region, religion, and social background. These variations necessitate that research work be sensitive to accurately and contextually understand field data. Failing to do so is a disservice to the research and risks presenting an inaccurate picture of the situation on the ground.
A few years ago, while drafting a proposal for a project involving fieldwork in the Northern and Eastern Provinces of the country, I was advised to include Tamil as a language of competence in my profile. However, I refused for two reasons. The Tamil I speak as a Muslim from Colombo is very different from the dialect in the Northern and Eastern Provinces, and secondly, based on my own assessment, I did not consider myself competent to conduct informed fieldwork for this project at the time. When I refused, a senior “local” researcher dismissed my concerns as superficial, stating that all that was needed was to have someone who could speak Tamil as part of the proposal to secure support from the international donor and to show that there was capacity to complete the work.
In this case, using language and my identity in a tokenistic manner by a “local” directly conflicts with the principles of localization. If such tokenization is employed by locals trusted by the international donors, how can proper localization be achieved?
These observations have made me realize over the years that the term “bottom-up approach” is often overused in articles, reports, and proposals but is seldom practiced in the spaces where we work.
Decolonizing narratives are very much necessary in urban centers where “local” individuals often speak in the language and voice of the Global North, either intentionally or unintentionally, thereby marginalizing grassroots perspectives.
At the end of the day, as much as country offices and implementing organizations are concerned about their accountability to donors and deliverables, they are equally, if not more, accountable to their own communities.
In light of the above, there are a few things country offices and implementing organizations could potentially consider as they move forward in their work.
- Accept that society is complex and this complexity should not be simplified to appease our donors. Diluting problems leads to ineffective interventions and the misdirection of resources.
- Put more focus on continuous engagement with communities to understand their evolving dynamics, regardless of one’s work or job role. Research is essential at every stage and effective support requires a thorough understanding of the communities by all staff members.
- Be sensitive to the nuances of language. Language, like many other things, is not black and white. Dismissing our understanding of our own spoken languages skews the understanding of many issues. In Sri Lanka, we should strive for greater inclusivity of Tamil-speaking staff across the country, recognizing the dialectical differences and the valuable contextual knowledge they bring.
Amid ongoing discussions following the Aragalaya in 2022 about political corruption and malpractice in the country, the wider local civil society must serve as a beacon of hope for the future by upholding the key values of localization. We must take a step back to reflect on our work and how we execute localization to ensure it is meaningful and fair; otherwise, we risk delaying the changes that the communities we work with are hopeful for.
Photos have used a filter to protect the privacy of individuals.

Ammaarah Nilafdeen
About this article
This blog was written as part of the “From where I stand: Unpacking ‘local’ in aid” series, designed to listen to people most affected by aid as they explore and amplify their leadership experiences, stories, and lessons for the aid sector.
Check out recent blogs:
- Communities of resistance – Why we need more of them by Themrise Khan
- Can storytelling fuel community-led development? by Emily Kombe
- Is the Aid Sector Tèt Anba? by Marie-Rose Romain Murphy
- Shifting the Power with Power Footprints by Patrick Meier
- On Statues, Robots, and Shifting-the-Power by Patrick Meier
If you are interested in contributing, please contact Becca Fogel at [email protected]. We would love to hear from you and include your perspective.
About the author
Ammaarah Nilafdeen is a social researcher based in Colombo, Sri Lanka. She holds a Bachelor’s degree from the University of Delhi and a Master’s degree from the University of Colombo. She is a Next Generation Foresight Practitioner Fellow with the School of International Futures and was a Professional Fellow for Governance and Society in South Asia, supported by the United States Department of State.
Posted in From Where I Stand|FWIS

