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LCOY Sri Lanka 2025: Redefining What It Means to Be Heard

September 19th, 2025

by Viranga Wijayasinghe, Commonwealth Asia Youth Alliance Advocacy Fellow

Sri Lanka had a peculiar way of treating ambition. It downgraded mine from ‘plans’ to dreams, from ‘conviction’ to motivation, and from the podium to a blurb in the brochure. I was allowed to exist, not in the conversation, but to fight against someone’s idea of what I could be.

More often than not, a typical conference experience magnanimously followed this trend. Complete with the package of a “capacity building session” that aimed not to empower but to enlist, rarely reflecting diversity beyond the occasional delegate from Rathnapura. Like clockwork, I was alienated from the conversation – only to reflect an interesting statistic for yet another youth quota they had been forced to fill. 

Going into LCOY Sri Lanka, I expected no different. The conference room in itself was a task to navigate, the seat an awkward distance away from the table, seeming to elongate the distance between me and the material on display on my computer screen. However, my expectations pivoted in an instant. I was neither the youngest nor the novice – It seemed I had finally been selected for who I am and not solely for just the people I represent. As Uchitha de Zoyza entered and took over, what little hesitancies I had, shattered. He was wildly outspoken and boldly unapologetic, calling out hypocrisies and giving one of the most impactful panels I’ve seen as an activist, put together not to deliver information but to arm minds. Paired with the literacy accelerator and group activities, it was the kind of day that kept me awake that night and also made for an amazing excuse to be late to my graduation ceremony that evening.

The next day was a stark contrast. We were introduced to a climate pledge—a pitch competition to finish in an hour. On three hours of sleep, my hopes for the grant and a sustainable solution looked bleak at best. Then an idea struck. I quickly gathered a team and began redefining climate education for many. We faced many interruptions—the short time limit, a random (and cool) bingo round, and lunch—but still managed to pull together what felt like a grasp at the stars. Through the sessions, I realised that students were often educated on the “what” but almost never on the “how” or the “why”, leaving them technically educated and blissfully unaware. The reason – the lack of critical ethical reasoning skills in modules. However, ethics are incredibly sensitive and lack immediate impact; so, how would we balance feasibility and ambition? No matter how much I thought – the answer seemed elusive and extraneous. Ironically, I found it when all the delegates came together, patching faults and sewing together a fabric that represented perspectives sharpened through numerous independent narratives. Sure – we spent the better half of the time not settling on a topic, but, in those moments, we found ourselves learning from failure, every discussion teaching us what didn’t work. When we hit a roadblock, the experts were a few steps away. From Simra and Sajini, who helped us dial in our idea, to Bodh and Tharushi, who guided our train of thought, the pitch was only made possible due to their unwavering support. 

Contrastingly however, the pitch itself was a shot in the other direction. When I stepped onto the makeshift stage, many eyes met mine. For a moment, doubt clouded me. Could they see the indexing issues on screen? The haphazard budget? What doubt didn’t oppress was the trust I had in the team and the idea. I knew if I kept talking, this idea had the potential to change Sri Lankan Climate education for a generation to come. As I wrapped up my pitch and returned to my seat, we awaited the anticipated words – we had been selected as one of two finalist projects among many others.

As I reflect on those two days as a delegate at LCOY, I began to realise it was more than a conference. I saw how delegates from Mannar to Rathnapura truly share their experience and be heard. In a space I once feared being sidelined, I found collaboration, courage, and an incredible sense of belonging to the community. Among all this, we also finalised the National Youth statement. For me, the document reflected more than words on paper, but a collective declaration of the conviction of young people to lead with change. Signing off from LCOY, I realised that I carry a renewed conviction for my work: it is important and it is important now, and I am ready to approach it with both urgency and purpose. Arguably, the system still had its flaws. My newfound approach to climate activism, however, did not.


LCOY Sri Lanka 2025 was co-organised by the Commonwealth Asia Youth Alliance, Climate Intelligence Network, Road to Rights, and World Youth for Climate Justice, with the support of UNICEF Sri Lanka and IOM Sri Lanka & Maldives

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by Viranga Wijayasinghe, Commonwealth Asia Youth Alliance Advocacy Fellow

Sri Lanka had a peculiar way of treating ambition. It downgraded mine from ‘plans’ to dreams, from ‘conviction’ to motivation, and from the podium to a blurb in the brochure. I was allowed to exist, not in the conversation, but to fight against someone’s idea of what I could be.

More often than not, a typical conference experience magnanimously followed this trend. Complete with the package of a “capacity building session” that aimed not to empower but to enlist, rarely reflecting diversity beyond the occasional delegate from Rathnapura. Like clockwork, I was alienated from the conversation – only to reflect an interesting statistic for yet another youth quota they had been forced to fill. 

Going into LCOY Sri Lanka, I expected no different. The conference room in itself was a task to navigate, the seat an awkward distance away from the table, seeming to elongate the distance between me and the material on display on my computer screen. However, my expectations pivoted in an instant. I was neither the youngest nor the novice – It seemed I had finally been selected for who I am and not solely for just the people I represent. As Uchitha de Zoyza entered and took over, what little hesitancies I had, shattered. He was wildly outspoken and boldly unapologetic, calling out hypocrisies and giving one of the most impactful panels I’ve seen as an activist, put together not to deliver information but to arm minds. Paired with the literacy accelerator and group activities, it was the kind of day that kept me awake that night and also made for an amazing excuse to be late to my graduation ceremony that evening.

The next day was a stark contrast. We were introduced to a climate pledge—a pitch competition to finish in an hour. On three hours of sleep, my hopes for the grant and a sustainable solution looked bleak at best. Then an idea struck. I quickly gathered a team and began redefining climate education for many. We faced many interruptions—the short time limit, a random (and cool) bingo round, and lunch—but still managed to pull together what felt like a grasp at the stars. Through the sessions, I realised that students were often educated on the “what” but almost never on the “how” or the “why”, leaving them technically educated and blissfully unaware. The reason – the lack of critical ethical reasoning skills in modules. However, ethics are incredibly sensitive and lack immediate impact; so, how would we balance feasibility and ambition? No matter how much I thought – the answer seemed elusive and extraneous. Ironically, I found it when all the delegates came together, patching faults and sewing together a fabric that represented perspectives sharpened through numerous independent narratives. Sure – we spent the better half of the time not settling on a topic, but, in those moments, we found ourselves learning from failure, every discussion teaching us what didn’t work. When we hit a roadblock, the experts were a few steps away. From Simra and Sajini, who helped us dial in our idea, to Bodh and Tharushi, who guided our train of thought, the pitch was only made possible due to their unwavering support. 

Contrastingly however, the pitch itself was a shot in the other direction. When I stepped onto the makeshift stage, many eyes met mine. For a moment, doubt clouded me. Could they see the indexing issues on screen? The haphazard budget? What doubt didn’t oppress was the trust I had in the team and the idea. I knew if I kept talking, this idea had the potential to change Sri Lankan Climate education for a generation to come. As I wrapped up my pitch and returned to my seat, we awaited the anticipated words – we had been selected as one of two finalist projects among many others.

As I reflect on those two days as a delegate at LCOY, I began to realise it was more than a conference. I saw how delegates from Mannar to Rathnapura truly share their experience and be heard. In a space I once feared being sidelined, I found collaboration, courage, and an incredible sense of belonging to the community. Among all this, we also finalised the National Youth statement. For me, the document reflected more than words on paper, but a collective declaration of the conviction of young people to lead with change. Signing off from LCOY, I realised that I carry a renewed conviction for my work: it is important and it is important now, and I am ready to approach it with both urgency and purpose. Arguably, the system still had its flaws. My newfound approach to climate activism, however, did not.


LCOY Sri Lanka 2025 was co-organised by the Commonwealth Asia Youth Alliance, Climate Intelligence Network, Road to Rights, and World Youth for Climate Justice, with the support of UNICEF Sri Lanka and IOM Sri Lanka & Maldives