Features
More on having foreign mothers in then Ceylon
(Excerpted from Chosen Ground: The saga of Clara Motwani by Goolbai Gunesekera)
Having British and American mothers also meant that we were spared much of the meaningless ritual of the East. Our parents protected us from prejudice, since caste and creed were not matters of high priority to them. Their Theosophical backgrounds ensured that we grew up with eclectic beliefs, as far as religion was concerned. What was stressed was ethical behaviour.
We read about all the faiths, and they were discussed in our homes. Buddhism and Hinduism were our Father’s leanings, but as far as we remember there was no `must’ about religious observances. From Father I learnt Hinduism and Sikhism, from Mother, Christianity and Buddhism. I can say the prayers of all religions, and am quite happy in any place of religious worship.
At my Ooty convent in the Nilgiri Hills of India, I won the Catechism prize two years in a row, even though I was not a Christian at the time. Our parents encouraged us to mingle with everybody. It mattered little to them who our friends were, just so long as they came from educated and cultured backgrounds. I attended eight schools altogether, while Suriya easily topped my record by attending 11 – 13, if she counted repetition in the same school. She finished her secondary school career at Ladies’ College, and I at Bishop’s.
Unlike the normal run of Asian mothers, ours were not busy collecting jewelry for us to be worn when we ‘grew up’ – a euphemism for our first menstruation. Kumari received her first set of gold bangles from her future mother-in-law before she married. She promptly lost them all. My own mother-in-law left me a lot of good jewelry in her will.
I loved her and remember her daily, but not because of that jewelry. Mother would have rather spent the money on books, and it says much for us that we never felt deprived. Our classmates may have worn their gold bangles to school, but we simply did not notice. Our ears were not pierced till we were ready to marry, but then again, who cared ? No one, except gossipy, but good natured, family friends who worried about our futures in a traditional society.
On one never-to-be-forgotten day I had taken my Indian cousin (a boy) to the Women’s International Club for a game of tennis. Boys were tolerated there on a one-day-a-week basis, but we were not expected to know any young boys. Our mothers did the inviting if necessary.
Anyway, the ladies of the Club were treated to the sight of me cheerfully playing singles without a chaperone in sight. Unable to concentrate on so mundane a matter as bidding a hand, they hurried to the phone and collectively informed Mother of my goings-on on the tennis court. Such freedom, such laxity, such license boded no good for my matrimonial hopes, they told Mother.
And this brings me to marriage: such an important milestone in the lives of Asian girls. In point of fact, all four of us made ‘good’ marriages; which is to say, they were socially commendable, although here again, our parents only checked on whether the boy was ‘nice’… an adjective that covered a multitude of qualities to which traditional parents would not have given much thought.
Kumari married Lal Jayawardene, son of the Governor of the Central Bank of Ceylon. Naturally I wanted to know how romance had blossomed. Kumari had been studying at the London School of Economics while Lal was at Cambridge. Dining one night with an Indian friend at a restaurant in Russell’s Square, Kumari was introduced to a young man (Lal) who must have been smitten instantly, for they married a year later.
All four of us ‘sisters’ are much fairer of skin than our contemporaries. All of us are dark-haired, except for my sister who had hair that was almost golden at birth. Certainly, we do not display the conventional looks of the average Sinhalese or Tamil girl. What was amazing to us was that Lai had not noticed this far from usual Sinhalese colouring, and was surprised when Kumari mentioned later on in their relationship that she had an English mother.
Relating this story, Kumari told me in amused tones: “You might have thought that Lal should have realized something was wrong!” Blinded by love he did not. and, anyway, ‘wrong’ is not the word we would have used on ourselves.
Suriya married Desmond Fernando, a distinguished lawyer, scion of a well known Sri Lankan family and at the time of my writing, President of the Sri Lanka Bar Association. Theirs was a typical ‘boy-next-door’ romance which blossomed in idyllic surroundings, since they lived on opposite sides of a tree-lined road in a beautifully quiet and shady residential area.
Maya married Stanley Senanayake, who ended his career as Inspector General of Police of Sri Lanka, and I married ‘Bunchy’ Jayampati Gunasekara, son of a Judge, Mr. P.R. Gunasekara who was subsequently Ambassador to England, France and Australia.
I met my husband when I was 15: it was a standard case of opposites attracting. My mother had made sure that I had imbibed her own stand-offish doctrine and attitudes vis-a-vis boys. Bunchy, on the other hand came from a gregarious, highly sophisticated Sinhalese family who entertained a great deal, and loved ballroom dancing. (I need hardly say here that I did not know how to dance at the time.)
At my classmate Malinee Samarakkody’s birthday party, my friends were twirling around happily while I just twiddled my thumbs on the sidelines. Bunchy asked me to dance. I often wondered why he came up to me and asked me to do the foxtrot but ask he did. “I don’t know how,” I told him forlornly.
Bunchy was all bright, breezy and confident. “Oh, that’s no problem, ” he said airily. “I’ll teach you.”
To this day I swear he added the words “I’m very good at it” but he denies this so vehemently that I’m getting confused myself. For the sake of family peace I shall go along with his story…..and it was never in any doubt that he was then, and still remains, a superlative dancer.As I said earlier, we met when I was just 15, and he 18. When I went away to University, Bunchy left for England to study the tea business. By all accounts, he had a marvelous time in London, and can still find his way from pub to pub if need be, while I had a pretty boring time in University being faithful to an absentee boyfriend.
The four of us found our own partners in spite of our parents’ attitudes, and not because of them. They were concerned with teaching us how to live our own lives as fulfillingly as possible, rather than telling us that such fulfillment for women lay only in marriage.
The lives of these eight people shaped and moulded the lives of young Sri Lankan children for years to come. While it is true that the medical doctor and politician fathers were busy with their patients and constituents, the others headed schools like Visakha Vidyalaya, Colombo; Sri Sumangala in Panadura, Sujatha Vidyalaya in Matara, Musaeus College, Colombo, Ananda College in Colombo for boys, Ananda Balika in Colombo for girls, Hindu Ladies’ College, Jaffna, Buddhist Ladies’ College, Colombo, and Sujatha Vidyalaya in Colombo.
My own father went back to India as Professor of Sociology and was a visiting lecturer in countries all over the world. But Sri Lanka was his base and he frequently gave a series of lectures at the Colombo University campus when Sir Ivor Jennings was the Vice Chancellor.
Both Mother and Hilda Kularatne were Principals of their schools at the age of 23. Both began teaching their students to be Sri Lankans and not just good little British colonials. Accordingly, Hilda began teaching temple art and native art forms to her pupils. Mother began the teaching of Buddhism as a subject, and encouraged her Visakhians to look to their own culture for inspiration.
All these ladies had been brought up with rather iconoclastic views by their own parents who had questioning and insightful minds. All four of them were pioneers of the Rotherfield Society – the first of its kind – founded by Dr. Ratnavale, the well-known psychiatrist. All four were members of the Theosophical Society and this is perhaps a good place to mention again that when India gained Independence, most of Nehru’s first Cabinet were likewise members of the Theosophical Society and had been influenced by that great Englishwoman, Annie Besant.
There was another aspect of this blend of East and West that is rarely highlighted. Much of their student life and some of the working life of these eight people had been spent abroad. Ergo, their contacts abroad were also many. Their personal friends are now regarded as being among the world’s greatest personalities.
Mahatma Gandhi, a friend of Doreen and her husband, gave Suriya a cotton sari that he had woven. The sage, Jiddu Krishnamurti, often had dinner in our home as we were one of the rare vegetarian families in Colombo. Krishna Menon, India’s great Foreign Minister, had been Doreen’s teacher and she kept up her ties with him. Harold Laski, the renowned political scientist, had been my father’s professor briefly at Yale.
Rukmani Arundale, the Minister of India’s Cultural Affairs and the founder of Kalashetra Dance School, was a family friend. Beautiful Rukmani taught me how to wear the sari when I was 11-years old ! J. B. Priestley was yet another literary acquaintance. The famous Indian dancer Uday Shankar was a guest in our home, as was Rabindranath Tagore in Suriya’s.
He visited Sri Lanka, and spoke at Ananda Balika when Doreen was its Principal. Doctors A.P de Zoysa and S.A. Wickremesinghe were members of the Buddhist Union in England, and were friends of Anagarika Dharmapala whom they worked with in London.
In the USA, Father had met Pearl Buck, the Nobel Prize winner in Literature. She autographed a set of her books for him, which he donated along with an entire library to the University of Colombo. They must be still there if anyone cares to trace them.
Through the Theosophical Society, Father was introduced to Henry Wallace, the Vice President of America during the Roosevelt administration. Wallace’s interest in Theosophy and Buddhism was well known, and the writer Gore Vidal makes mention of this incident in his book The Golden Years.
George Santayana, the philosopher, was yet another acquaintance with whom Father corresponded for much of his life, as was the famous author and co-Theosophist, Aldous Huxley.
Encouraged and supported by their husbands, the four ladies not only had significant roles to play in the emerging Sri Lanka but also left an indelible mark on the island. Writing an article titled “Heroes Day – Here are the Heroines” in 1977, the well-known journalist and Gratiaen Prize-winner, Vijitha Fernando, included Mother and Doreen in her round up of the island’s outstanding women.
Eleanor de Zoysa came from a family that had been socialist in their views for four generations. Small wonder, then, that Kumari followed suit. Suriya was Head of Amnesty International for five years (the only Sri Lankan to have had this honour) and during her tenure of office has had occasion to accept awards and citations in various countries for her work. Maya has just retired after leaving her mark on Sri Lanka’s Police Department, where as the wife of the IGP, she headed the Seva Vanitha.
She also founded and ran a handicraft village which was a showpiece for visitors who wanted a quick glimpse into the culture of the land. And I, trailing behind the headline-grabbing careers of my ‘sisters’ – I run the Asian International School in Colombo – the only one of the four of us to continue the educational careers of our mothers.
As could be expected, these four mothers had a very liberal outlook; an outlook that today would be positively dangerous. Kumari was allowed to explore Colombo freely, and she swept Suriya along in her wake as she wandered at will. The two girls would picnic (alone) on the beaches of Modera, cycle along unfrequented pathways and examine whatever took Kumari’s interest.
Assuming all was well, Doreen never asked where Suriya had been. She trusted that Kumari was doing her duty, and looking after the younger girl. In actual fact they were travelling by bus, and doing the sort of things girls from more traditional families rarely did. But our families were-not traditional, and Colombo was an unusually safe city. We were so lucky. This unorthodox upbringing has made us self reliant, independent and confident, and well able to handle our world.
To this day, Kumari and Suriya are generally regarded as the brains of the quartet. Kumari is now Dr. Kumari Jayawardena, former Associate Professor of Political Science at the University of Colombo and the author of a string of books on the role and position of women in this island. When her husband was appointed to a job in Helsinki, she had to retire as professor although she still keeps up lecturing engagements at the University on a freelance basis.
She has written in detail of the impact women, and especially Western women, have made on our society, and anything I might say here on the subject would be not only superfluous but rather banal.
And so Kumari, Suriya, Maya and I –sisters under the skin’ – the offspring of these wonderful parents, have remained friends all our lives. It has been one of the great plus points of our unorthodox heritage.
Features
When water becomes the weapon
On the morning of November 28, 2025, Cyclone Ditwah made an unremarkable entrance, meteorologically speaking. With winds barely scraping 75 km/h, it was classified as merely a “Cyclonic Storm” by the India Meteorological Department. No dramatic satellite spiral. No apocalyptic wind speeds. Just a modest weather system forming unusually close to the equator, south of Sri Lanka.
By December’s second week, the numbers told a story of national reckoning: over 650 lives lost, 2.3 million people affected, roughly one in ten Sri Lankans, and economic losses estimated between $6-7 billion. To put that in perspective, the damage bill equals roughly 3-5% of the country’s entire GDP, exceeding the combined annual budgets for healthcare and education. It became Sri Lanka’s deadliest natural disaster since the 2004 tsunami.
The Hydrology of Horror
The answer lies not in wind speed but in water volume. In just 24 hours on 28 November, hydrologists estimate that approximately 13 billion cubic meters of rain fell across Sri Lanka, roughly 10% of the island’s average annual rainfall compressed into a single day. Some areas recorded over 300-400mm in that period. To visualise the scale: the discharge rate approached 150,000 cubic meters per second, comparable to the Amazon River at peak flow, but concentrated on an island 100 times smaller than the Amazon basin.
The soil, already saturated from previous monsoon rains, couldn’t absorb this deluge. Nearly everything ran off. The Kelani, Mahaweli, and Deduru Oya river systems overflowed simultaneously. Reservoirs like Kala Wewa and Rajanganaya had to release massive volumes to prevent catastrophic dam failures, which only accelerated downstream flooding.
Where Development Met Disaster
The human toll concentrated in two distinct geographies, each revealing different failures.
In the Central Highlands, Kandy, Badulla, Nuwara Eliya, Matale, landslides became the primary killer. The National Building Research Organisation documented over 1,200 landslides in the first week alone, with 60% in the hill country. These weren’t random geological events; they were the culmination of decades of environmental degradation. Colonial-era tea and rubber plantations stripped highland forests, increasing soil erosion and landslide susceptibility. Today, deforestation continues alongside unregulated hillside construction that ignores slope stability.
The communities most vulnerable? The Malaiyaha Tamil plantation workers, descendants of indentured labourers brought from South India by the British. Living in cramped “line rooms” on remote estates, they faced both the highest mortality rates and the greatest difficulty accessing rescue services. Many settlements remained cut off for days.
Meanwhile, in the Western Province urban basin, Colombo, Gampaha, Kolonnawa, the Kelani River’s overflow displaced hundreds of thousands. Kolonnawa, where approximately 70% of the area sits below sea level, became an inland sea. Urban planning failures compounded the crisis: wetlands filled in for development, drainage systems inadequate for changing rainfall patterns, and encroachments on flood retention areas all transformed what should have been manageable flooding into mass displacement.
The Economic Aftershock
By 03 December, when the cyclone had degraded to a remnant low, the physical damage inventory read like a national infrastructure audit gone catastrophic:
UNDP’s geospatial analysis revealed exposure: about 720,000 buildings, 16,000 km of roads, 278 km of rail, and 480 bridges in flooded zones. This represents infrastructure that underpins the daily functioning of 82-84% of the national economy.
The agricultural sector faces multi-season impacts. The cyclone struck during the Maha season, Sri Lanka’s major cultivation period, when approximately 563,950 hectares had just been sown. Government data confirms 108,000 hectares of rice paddies destroyed, 11,000 hectares of other field crops lost, and 6,143 hectares of vegetables wiped out. The tea industry, while less damaged than food crops, projects a 35% output decline, threatening $1.29 billion in annual export revenue.
Supply chains broke. Cold storage facilities failed. Food prices spiked in urban markets, hitting hardest the rural households that produce the food, communities where poverty rates had already doubled to 25% following the recent economic crisis.
The Hidden Costs: Externalities
Yet the most consequential damage doesn’t appear in economic loss estimates. These are what economists call externalities, costs that elude conventional accounting but compound human suffering.
Environmental externalities : Over 1,900 landslides in protected landscapes like the Knuckles Range uprooted forest canopies, buried understory vegetation, and clogged streams with debris. These biodiversity losses carry long-term ecological and hydrological costs, habitat fragmentation, compromised watershed function, and increased vulnerability to future slope failures.
Social externalities: Overcrowded shelters created conditions for disease transmission that WHO warned could trigger epidemics of water-, food-, and vector-borne illnesses. The unpaid care work, predominantly shouldered by women, in these camps represents invisible labour sustaining survival. Gender-based violence risks escalate in displacement settings yet receive minimal systematic response. For informal workers and micro-enterprises, the loss of tools, inventory, and premises imposes multi-year setbacks and debt burdens that poverty measurements will capture only later, if at all.
Governance externalities: The first week exposed critical gaps. Multilingual warning systems failed, Coordination between agencies remained siloed. Data-sharing between the Disaster Management Centre, Meteorology Department, and local authorities proved inadequate for real-time decision-making. These aren’t technical failures; they’re symptoms of institutional capacity eroded by years of budget constraints, hiring freezes, and deferred maintenance.
Why This Cyclone Was Different
Climate scientists studying Ditwah’s behaviour note concerning anomalies. It formed unusually close to the equator and maintained intensity far longer than expected after landfall. While Sri Lanka has experienced at least 16 cyclones since 2000, these were typically mild. Ditwah’s behaviour suggests something shifting in regional climate patterns.
Sri Lanka ranks high on the Global Climate Risk Index, yet 81.2% of the population lacks adaptive capacity for disasters. This isn’t a knowledge gap; it’s a resource gap. The country’s Meteorology Department lacks sufficient Doppler radars for precise forecasting. Rescue helicopters are ageing and maintenance are deferred. Urban drainage hasn’t been upgraded to handle changing rainfall patterns. Reservoir management protocols were designed for historical rainfall distributions that no longer apply.
The convergence proved deadly: a climate system behaving unpredictably met infrastructure built for a different era, governed by institutions weakened by austerity, in a landscape where unregulated development had systematically eroded natural defences.

Sources: WHO, UNICEF, UNDP, Sri Lanka Disaster Management Centre, UN OCHA, The Diplomat, Al Jazeera,
The Recovery Crossroads
With foreign reserves barely matching the reconstruction bill, Sri Lanka faces constrained choices. An IMF consideration of an additional $200 million on top of a scheduled tranche offers partial relief, but the fiscal envelope, shaped by ongoing debt restructuring and austerity commitments, forces brutal prioritisation.
The temptation will be “like-for-like” rebuilds replace what washed away with similar structures in the same locations. This would be the fastest path back to normalcy and the surest route to repeat disaster. The alternative, what disaster planners call “Build Back Better”, requires different investments:
* Targeted livelihood support for the most vulnerable: Cash grants and working capital for fisherfolk, smallholders, and women-led enterprises, coupled with temporary employment in debris clearance and ecosystem restoration projects.
* Resilient infrastructure: Enforce flood-resistant building codes, elevate power substations, create backup power routes, and use satellite monitoring for landslide-prone areas.
* Rapid disaster payments: Automatically scale up cash aid through existing social registries, with mobile transfers and safeguards for women and disabled people.
* Insurance for disasters: Create a national emergency fund triggered by rainfall and wind data, plus affordable microinsurance for fishers and farmers.
* Restore natural defences: Replant mangroves and wetlands, dredge rivers, and strictly enforce coastal building restrictions, relocating communities where necessary.
The Reckoning
The answers are uncomfortable. Decades of prioritising economic corridors over drainage systems. Colonial land-use patterns perpetuated into the present. Wetlands sacrificed for development. Budget cuts to the institutions responsible for warnings and response. Building codes are unenforced. Early warning systems are under-resourced. Marginalised communities settled in the riskiest locations with the least support.
These aren’t acts of nature; they’re choices. Cyclone Ditwah made those choices visible in 13 billion cubic meters of water with nowhere safe to flow.
As floodwaters recede and reconstruction begins, Sri Lanka stands at a crossroads. One path leads back to the fragilities that made this disaster inevitable. The other, more expensive, more complex, more uncomfortable, leads to systems designed not to withstand the last disaster but to anticipate the next ones.
In an era of warming oceans and intensifying extremes, treating Ditwah as a once-in-a-generation anomaly would be the most dangerous assumption of all.
(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT, Malabe. The views and opinions expressed in this article are personal.)
Features
Revival of Innovative systems for reservoir operation and flood forecasting
Most reservoirs in Sri Lanka are agriculture and hydropower dominated. Reservoir operators are often unwilling to acknowledge the flood detention capability of major reservoirs during the onset of monsoons. Deviating from the traditional priority for food production and hydropower development, it is time to reorient the operational approach of major reservoir operators under extreme events, where flood control becomes a vital function. While admitting that total elimination of flood impacts is not technically feasible, the impacts can be reduced by the efficient operation of reservoirs and effective early warning systems.
At the very outset, I would like to mention that the contents in this article are based on my personal experience in the Irrigation Department (ID), and there is no intention to disrespect their contributions during the most recent flood event. The objective is to improve the efficiency and the capability of the human resources available in the ID and other relevant institutions to better respond to future flood disasters.
Reservoir operation and flood forecasting
Reservoir management is an important aspect of water management, as water storage and release are crucial for managing floods and droughts. Several numerical models and guidelines have already been introduced to the ID and MASL during numerous training programs for reservoir management and forecasting of inflows.
This article highlights expectations of engineering professionals and discusses a framework for predicting reservoir inflows from its catchment by using the measured rainfall during the previous few days. Crucially, opening the reservoir gates must be timed to match the estimated inflow.
Similarly, rainfall-runoff relationships had been demonstrated and necessary training was provided to selected engineers during the past to make a quantitative (not qualitative) forecast of river water levels at downstream locations, based on the observed rainfall in the upstream catchment.
Already available information and technology
Furthermore, this article highlights the already available technology and addresses certain misinformation provided to the mass media by some professionals during recent discussions. These discrepancies are primarily related to the opening of reservoir gates and flood forecasting.
A. Assessing the 2025 Flood Magnitude
It is not logically sound to claim that the 2025 flood in the Kelani basin was the highest flood experienced historically. While, in terms of flood damage, it was probably the worst flood experienced due to rapid urbanisation in the lower Kelani basin. We have experienced many critical and dangerous floods in the past by hydraulic definition in the Kelani Ganga.
Historical water levels recorded at the Nagalagam Street gauge illustrate this point: (See Table)

In view of the above data, the highest water level recorded at the Nagalagam river gauge during the 2025 flood was 8.5 ft. This was a major flood, but not a critical or dangerous flood by definition.
B. Adherence to Reservoir Standing Orders
According to the standing orders of the ID, water levels in major reservoirs must be kept below the Full Supply Level (FSL) during the Northeast (NE) monsoon season (from October to March) until the end of December. According to my recollection, this operational height is 1.0m below the FSL. Therefore, maintaining a reservoir below the FSL during this period is not a new practice; it explicitly serves the dual purpose of dam safety and flood detention for the downstream areas.
C. Gate Operation Methodology
When a reservoir is reaching the FSL, the daily operation of gates is expected to be managed so that the inflow of water from the catchment rainfall is equal to the outflow through the spill gates (Inflow * Outflow). The methodology for estimating both the catchment inflow and the gate outflow is based on very simple formulas, which have been previously taught to the technical officers and engineers engaged in field operations.
D. Advanced Forecasting Capabilities
Sophisticated numerical models for rainfall-runoff relationships are available and known to subject specialists of the ID through the training provided over the last 40 years. For major reservoirs, the engineers in charge of field operations could be trained to estimate daily inflows to the reservoirs, especially in cases where the simple formulas mentioned in section C are not adequate.
Design concept of reservoir flood gates
Regarding the provision of reservoir spill gates, one must be mindful of the underlying principles of probability. Major reservoir spillways are designed for very high return periods, such as 1,000 and 10,000 years. If the spillway gates are opened fully when a reservoir is at full capacity, this can produce an artificial flood of a very large magnitude. A flood of such magnitude cannot occur under natural conditions. Therefore, reservoir operators must be mindful in this regard to avoid any artificial flood creation.
In reality, reservoir spillways are often designed for the sole safety of the reservoir structure, often compromising the safety of the downstream population. This design concept was promoted by foreign funding agencies in recent times to safeguard their investment for dams. Consequently, the discharge capacities of these spill gates significantly exceed the natural carrying capacity of river downstream. This design criterion requires serious consideration by future designers and policymakers.
Undesirable gate openings
The public often asks a basic question regarding flood hazards in a river system with reservoirs: Why is flooding more prominent downstream of reservoirs compared to the period before they were built? This concern is justifiable based on the following incidents.
For instance, why do Magama in Tissamaharama face flood threats after the construction of the massive Kirindi Oya reservoir? Similarly, why does Ambalantota flood after the construction of Udawalawe Reservoir? Furthermore, why is Molkawa in the Kalutara District area getting flooded so often after the construction of Kukule reservoir?
These situations exist in several other river basins too. Engineers must therefore be mindful of the need to strictly control the operation of reservoir gates by their field staff. The actual field situation can sometimes deviate significantly from the theoretical technology discussed in air- conditioned rooms. Due to this potential discrepancy, it is necessary to examine whether gate operators are strictly adhering to the operational guidelines, as gate operation currently relies too much on the discretion of the operator at the site.
In 2003, there was severe flood damage below Kaudulla reservoir in Polonnaruwa. I was instructed to find out the reason for this flooding by the then Minister of Mahaweli & Irrigation. During my field inspection, I found that the daily rainfall in the area had not exceeded 100mm, yet the downstream flood damage was unbelievable. I was certain that 100mm of rainfall could not create a flood of that magnitude. Further examination suggested that this was not a natural flood, but was created by the excessive release of water from the radial gates of the Kaudulla reservoir. There are several other similar incidents and those are beyond the space available for this document.
Revival of Innovative systems
It may be surprising to note the high quality of real-time flood forecasts issued by the ID for the Kelani River in the late 1980s and early 1990s. This was achieved despite the lack of modern computational skills and advanced communication systems. At that time, for instance, mobile phones were non-existent. Forecasts were issued primarily via the Sri Lanka Broadcasting Corporation (SLBC )in news bulletins.
A few examples of flood warning issued during the past available in official records of the ID are given below:
Forecast issued at 6th June 1989 at 5.00 PM
“The water level at Nagalagam street river gauge was at 9 ft 0 inches at 5.0 PM. This is 1.0 ft above the major flood level. Water level is likely to rise further, but not likely to endanger the Kelani flood bund”.
Eng. NGR. De Silva, Director Irrigation
Forecast issued at 30th Oct 1991 at 6.00 PM
“The water level at Nagalagam street river gauge was at 3 ft 3 inches at 6.0 PM. The water level likely to rise further during the next 24 hours, but will not exceed 5.0 ft.”
Eng. K.Yoganathan, Director Irrigation
Forecast issued at 6th June 1993 at 10.00 AM:
“The water level at Nagalagam street river gauge was at 4 ft 6 inches last night. The water level will not go above 5.0 ft within the next 24 hours.”
Eng. K.Yoganathan, Director Irrigation
Forecast issued at 8th June 1993 at 9.00 AM:
“The water level at Nagalagam Street River gauge was at 4 ft 6 inches at 7.00 AM. The water level will remain above 4.0 ft for the next 12 hours and this level will go below 4.0 ft in the night.
The water level is not expected to rise within next 24 hours.”
Eng.WNM Boteju,Director of Irrigation
Conclusion
Had this technology been consistently and effectively adopted, we could have significantly reduced the number of deaths and mitigated the unprecedented damage to our national infrastructure. The critical question then arises: Why is this known, established flood forecasting technology, already demonstrated by Sri Lankan authorities, not being put into practice during recent disasters? I will leave the answer to this question for social scientists, administrators and politicians in Sri Lanka.
Features
Rebuilding Sri Lanka for the long term
The government is rebuilding the cyclone-devastated lives, livelihoods and infrastructure in the country after the immense destruction caused by Cyclone Ditwah. President Anura Kumara Dissanayake has been providing exceptional leadership by going into the cyclone affected communities in person, to mingle directly with the people there and to offer encouragement and hope to them. A President who can be in the midst of people when they are suffering and in sorrow is a true leader. In a political culture where leaders have often been distant from the everyday hardships of ordinary people, this visible presence would have a reassuring psychological effect.
The international community appears to be comfortable with the government and has been united in giving it immediate support. Whether it be Indian and US helicopters that provided essential airlift capacity or cargo loads of relief material that have come from numerous countries, or funds raised from the people of tiny Maldives, the support has given Sri Lankans the sense of being a part of the world family. The speed and breadth of this response has contrasted sharply with the isolation Sri Lanka experienced during some of the darker moments of its recent past.
There is no better indicator of the international goodwill to Sri Lanka as in the personal donations for emergency relief that have been made by members of the diplomatic corps in Sri Lanka. Such gestures go beyond formal diplomacy and suggest a degree of personal confidence in the direction in which the country is moving. The office of the UN representative in Sri Lanka has now taken the initiative to launch a campaign for longer term support, signalling that emergency assistance can be a bridge to sustained engagement rather than a one-off intervention.
Balanced Statement
In a world that has turned increasingly to looking after narrow national interests rather than broad common interests, Sri Lanka appears to have found a way to obtain the support of all countries. It has received support from countries that are openly rivals to each other. This rare convergence reflects a perception that Sri Lanka is not seeking to play one power against another, and balancing them, but rather to rebuild itself on the basis of stability, inclusiveness and responsible governance.
An excerpt from an interview that President Dissanayake gave to the US based Newsweek magazine is worth reproducing. In just one paragraph he has summed up Sri Lankan foreign policy that can last the test of time. A question Newsweek put to the president was: “Sri Lanka sits at the crossroads of Chinese built infrastructure, Indian regional influence and US economic leverage. To what extent does Sri Lanka truly retain strategic autonomy, and how do you balance these relationships?”
The president replied: “India is Sri Lanka’s closest neighbour, separated by about 24 km of ocean. We have a civilisational connection with India. There is hardly any aspect of life in Sri Lanka that is not connected to India in some way or another. India has been the first responder whenever Sri Lanka has faced difficulty. India is also our largest trading partner, our largest source of tourism and a significant investor in Sri Lanka. China is also a close and strategic partner. We have a long historic relationship—both at the state level and at a political party level. Our trade, investment and infrastructure partnership is very strong. The United States and Sri Lanka also have deep and multifaceted ties. The US is our largest market. We also have shared democratic values and a commitment to a rules-based order. We don’t look at our relations with these important countries as balancing. Each of our relationships is important to us. We work with everyone, but always with a single purpose – a better world for Sri Lankans, in a better world for all.”
Wider Issues
The President’s articulation of foreign relations, especially the underlying theme of working with everyone for the wellbeing of all, resonates strongly in the context of the present crisis. The willingness of all major partners to assist Sri Lanka simultaneously suggests that goodwill generated through effective disaster response can translate into broader political and diplomatic space. Within the country, the government has been successful in calling for and in obtaining the support of civil society which has an ethos of filling in gaps by seeking the inclusion of marginalised groups and communities who may be left out of the mainstream of development.
Civil society organisations have historically played a crucial role in Sri Lanka during times of crisis, often reaching communities that state institutions struggle to access. Following a meeting with CSOs, at which the president requested their support and assured them of their freedom to choose, the CSOs mobilised in all flood affected parts of the country, many of them as part of a CSO Collective for Emergency Response. An important initiative was to undertake the task of ascertaining the needs of the cyclone affected people. Volunteers from a number of civil society groups fanned out throughout the country to collect the necessary information. This effort helped to ground relief efforts in real needs rather than assumptions, reducing duplication and ensuring that assistance reached those most affected.
The priority that the government is currently having to give to post-cyclone rebuilding must not distract it from giving priority attention to dealing with postwar issues. The government has the ability and value-system to resolve other national problems. Resolving issues of post disaster rebuilding in the aftermath of the cyclone have commonalities in relation to the civil war that ended in 2009. The failure of successive governments to address those issues has prompted the international community to continuously question and find fault with Sri Lanka at the UN. This history has weighed heavily on Sri Lanka’s international standing and has limited its ability to fully leverage external support.
Required Urgency
At a time when the international community is demonstrating enormous goodwill to Sri Lanka, the lessons learnt from their own experiences, and the encouraging support they are giving Sri Lanka at present, can and must be utilised. The government under President Dissanayake has committed to a non-racist Sri Lanka in which all citizens will be treated equally. The experience of other countries, such as the UK, India, Switzerland, Canada and South Africa show that problems between ethnic communities also require inter community power sharing in the form of devolution of power. Countries that have succeeded in reconciling diversity with unity have done so by embedding inclusion into governance structures rather than treating it as a temporary concession.
Sri Lanka’s present moment of international goodwill provides a rare opening to learn from these experiences with the encouragement and support of its partners, including civil society which has shown its readiness to join hands with the government in working for the people’s wellbeing. The unresolved problems of land resettlement, compensation for lost lives and homes, finding the truth about missing persons continue to weigh heavily on the minds and psyche of people in the former war zones of the north and east even as they do so for the more recent victims of the cyclone.
Unresolved grievances do not disappear with time. They resurface periodically, often in moments of political transition or social stress, undermining national cohesion. The government needs to ensure sustainable solutions not only to climate related development, but also to ethnic peace and national reconciliation. The government needs to bring together the urgency of disaster recovery with the long-postponed task of political reform as done in the Indonesian province of Aceh in the aftermath of the 2004 tsunami for which it needs bipartisan political support. Doing so could transform a national tragedy into a turning point for long lasting unity and economic take-off.
by Jehan Perera
-
Business6 days agoCabinet approves establishment of two 50 MW wind power stations in Mullikulum, Mannar region
-
News7 days agoGota ordered to give court evidence of life threats
-
Features7 days agoCliff and Hank recreate golden era of ‘The Young Ones’
-
Features7 days agoSri Lanka and Global Climate Emergency: Lessons of Cyclone Ditwah
-
Editorial7 days agoExperience vs. Inexperience
-
Features4 days agoWhy Sri Lanka Still Has No Doppler Radar – and Who Should Be Held Accountable
-
News7 days agoWFP scales up its emergency response in Sri Lanka
-
Features6 days agoDitwah: A Country Tested, A People United


