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There was a time when evenings in Sri Lankan homes were filled with sound. The clatter of plates being set on the table, the familiar arguments over homework, a mother calling out to children to wash their hands before dinner, a father asking about school. These moments were imperfect, sometimes chaotic, but they were real. Today, many of those sounds have faded, replaced by an uncomfortable silence broken only by the tapping of fingers on screens.
Across Colombo and even beyond, heavy mobile phone usage and excessive screen time are quietly stealing something invaluable from us. Time with our children and families. It is now common to see a family seated together at a restaurant, yet no one is speaking. Parents scroll through social media. Children watch videos or play games. Everyone is occupied, yet no one is truly present. At home, a child excitedly begins a story about something that happened at school, only to trail off halfway when they realise the parent’s attention is still fixed on a phone. The child learns, silently, that their story can wait. We often rush to criticise children for being glued to screens. We call them distracted, addicted and disinterested in family life. But we rarely hold up the mirror to ourselves. Adults are just as attached, if not more so. Emails, messages, news alerts and social media have created a culture of constant distraction. When parents check their phones during meals, conversations or even bedtime routines, children absorb that behaviour as normal.
A young mother recently shared how her five year old gently took her phone from her hand and said, “Amma, now you look at me.” It was a moment that left her shaken. Children should not have to compete with screens for attention. Yet many do, daily. The emotional cost of this digital overuse is far greater than we realise. Family time is not merely about being in the same physical space. It is about connection. It is in these moments that children learn to express themselves, to listen, to argue respectfully and to feel valued. When these moments are replaced by screen time, children may grow up feeling unseen and unheard.
Teachers and counsellors increasingly speak of children who struggle to communicate their emotions, who retreat inward or seek validation online. While screens are not the sole cause, the absence of meaningful family interaction plays a significant role. A child with thousands of online followers can still feel deeply lonely if they lack genuine connection at home.
Sri Lankan families today face immense pressures. Economic hardship, long working hours, traffic congestion and academic competition leave parents exhausted. In such a climate, it is tempting to retreat into a phone at the end of the day. It feels like an escape. But what we often do not realise is that our children are paying the price for that escape. This is not an argument against technology. Mobile phones and screens are part of modern life. They help us work, learn and stay connected. The issue lies in excess and imbalance. When a device becomes more important than a conversation, more urgent than a child’s need to be heard, we have crossed a dangerous line.
So what can be done? The first step is intention. Families must consciously reclaim time together. This does not require grand gestures. Simple rules can make a powerful difference. No phones at the dining table. No screens during the first hour after everyone returns home. No phones in bedrooms at night. These boundaries may be resisted at first, but consistency creates change.
Second, parents must lead by example. Children do not listen to what we say as much as they observe what we do. If we expect them to limit screen time, we must be willing to do the same. Put the phone away when a child is speaking. Look them in the eye. Listen fully, even if the story seems trivial. To a child, it is never trivial. Third, we must create screen free family rituals. A nightly conversation before bed. A weekly family meal where everyone participates. A Sunday morning walk. Cooking together, playing a simple board game or even sitting and talking without distractions. These moments build memories and emotional security.
Fourth, schools and community leaders must play a stronger role in raising awareness. Digital wellbeing should be discussed not only with children but with parents as well. We speak often about online safety, but far less about digital balance and emotional presence. Both are essential. Employers too have a responsibility. A culture that expects constant availability leaves little room for family life. Respecting boundaries after working hours is not a luxury. It is an investment in healthier families and, ultimately, a healthier society.
The greatest gift a parent can give a child is not the latest phone or tablet. It is time. Undivided, attentive and loving time. Time that tells a child, without words, that they matter. If we continue on our current path, we risk raising a generation that remembers their childhood not through shared laughter or conversations, but through the glow of screens and the absence of attention. It is not too late to change course. It is time to look up, put the phone down and truly be present with those who matter most.