Features

Where the hell have all devils gone?

Published

11 months ago

2025/05/15

Sahan Weerasooriya

‘Hello darkness, my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again’

–– The Sound of Silence

A drive through the city of Colombo is far less frazzling around midnight, when most asphalt cowboys (read private bus drivers) are in dreamland, and others move like a breeze, having to mind only an occasional wheeled contraption trying to break the sound barrier or policemen in high-vis jackets with flashing traffic wands.

Driving back home after work, some time ago, at an ungodly hour, as usual, yours truly beheld something that opened the floodgates of nostalgia. A devil was staring at him through the rear windshield of a vehicle. An electrifying sight—indeed!

It was actually a sticker of a colourful, apotropaic devil mask—fascinatingly fanged, adorably goggle-eyed, and so endearingly familiar to southerners who grew up among devils, so to speak.

A little over a year ago, a devil beckoned to the writer similarly on the Southern Expressway while he was on his way to Matara with his family for the traditional New Year, which invariably makes him succumb to the irresistible pull of his southern roots.

Well past the witching hour, tossing and turning in bed, in Matara, the writer found something amiss in an otherwise perfect southern night. There was no rub-a-dub of yak bera (low-country drum). During his childhood, pulsating tom-tom beating at thovil or devil dances in his neighbourhood would lull him to sleep.

On that sleepless night, the writer kept thinking to himself, “Where the hell have all the devils gone?”

Coexistence with devils

We, the southerners, evince a proprietary interest in yakas or devils. They may frighten others, but they are no match for the southern exorcists or kattadiyas, who claim to be capable of taming or even banishing them—for a hefty fee, of course. Devil dances are the events where yakas that possess humans are exorcised; they are humiliated in every conceivable manner before being driven out; no yaka with an iota of self-respect would take such mortification lying down if it was capable of striking back. So, a logical conclusion may be that the devils are scared of the southern kattadiyas!

During the writer’s growing-up years, the township of Matara encompassed only a small urban area, beyond which lay rural backwaters, where humans and yakas had opted for an uneasy coexistence, with the latter often overstepping their limits, warranting the intervention of devil dancers.

The writer, as a child, used to think that beyond the area illuminated by household lights in the neighbourhood, all the starving devils in the country converged for the night, keeping a sharp lookout for the brats who dared venture out after dusk. So, he and his elder brother carefully avoided crossing the border demarcated by garden lights lest they should provoke demonic retaliation or even end up as the dinner of the supposedly evil ones.

Cane that drove out fear of devils

The credit for making the writer and his brother overcome their fear of yakas should go to their mother or her unforgiving cane, to be exact. She was not equal to the task of catching them during daytime, try hard as she might, for their mischief or misbehaviour. So, cases against them were heard in absentia in the daylight hours and sentences were duly passed, and all that remained to be done upon their return home at dusk was to mete out punishment, which was severe.

Those were the pre-Child Protection Authority hotline days, and flight was the only option the hapless brothers were left with. So, a scared duo would show their mother a clean pair of heels each, but, darn it, their sprints would end where the dark territory of the devils began!

With the passage of time, the two brothers would summon the courage to cross the line of control between human territory and that of the yakas, and their mother gradually lost interest in the nightly sprints. Otherwise, she would surely have gone on to clinch an Olympic medal for running, a couple of decades before Susanthika! (In ‘My Family and Other Animals’, Gerry Durrell quotes his elder brother as having said that they can be proud of the way they have brought up their mother!)

Conquering fear: Ultimate test

Making an occasional foray into the devils’ territory at night was one thing, but overcoming the fear of demons once and for all was quite another; the ultimate test of masculinity for teens, in that part of the country, sans proper street lighting at the time, was returning home all alone well past midnight after watching a horror movie at a cinema in the nearby town. There were occasions when the writer had to come back home all alone on bicycle or using shank’s pony, passing two cemeteries with large tombs, which, he thought, had been purpose-built for scaring brats who dared wander after nightfall!

‘The Exorcist’ was a scary flick that made any mid-teen worry about the prospect of having to walk the dark roads that lay between the cinema and his home, after the 9.30 pm show––all alone. The snakelike tongue the possessed girl flicked from time to time almost touched the petrified faces of the writer and his friends occupying the front-row seats. Equally blood-curdling were the films like ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’. Dracula also would unnervingly affright them initially to the extent of making them see, on their way back home at night, the blood-sucking creature’s ghastly visage everywhere like a politician’s grinning mug on election posters defacing wayside walls. But later Dracula became a joke, for he/it overdid bloodletting like the violent characters in Tarantino’s edge-of-the-seat thrillers full of gratuitous gory scenes. Subsequently, horror movies became so funny that Hitchcock’s ‘Psycho’ amused the writer instead of giving him heebie-jeebies. (Hitchcock is heard saying in an audio recording in the BBC archives that he intended ‘Psycho’ as a comedy, but people took it for a horror movie, and he kept quiet!)

Witnessing the banishment of devils

Years prior to the late arrival of television in Sri Lanka were characterised by a chronic lack of entertainment, and the yakas were considerate enough to move in to fill that vacuum, from time to time, with demonic possessions, which necessitated all-night devil dances. They were the events that provided the writer, his brother and their friends an up-close look at numerous devils, especially Mahasona and Ririyaka, who were in fact the devil dancers wearing magnificent wooden masks representing the anthropomorphic personifications of different yakas.

Frantic yet spellbinding dancing lasted for hours on end to the accompaniment of hypnotically rhythmic drum beating, which reached a crescendo towards the wee hours. The exorcists would go into deep trances then, muttering gobbledygook, which apparently only they and the southern devils understood.

The disease-causing devils were identified, summoned and banished much to the relief of the possessed and family members. Thovil could be considered kangaroo trials for devils. Those ceremonies were well choreographed and highly entertaining; they included scenes that provided comic relief in the form of dialogues between yakas and devil dancers, who ridiculed the former much to the amusement of the spectators. Obscenities that some tipplers who were sozzled to the gills hurled at the devils from the audience made thovil even more entertaining like stormy parliamentary sessions.

Seeing and surviving real yakas

The writer’s encounters with the real yakas happened in the late 1980s, when the southern parts of the country ran red with youthful blood due to the JVP’s reign of terror and the savage counterterror operations carried out by the then UNP government.

Two macabre scenes are etched in the writer’s memory. One day, while travelling from Matara to Peradeniya in 1988, he counted more than 30 blindfolded, mutilated corpses of youth along the way—about 10 being burnt on the roadside at the Ahangama junction, six under the Panadura bridge and the others at different locations along the Kandy-Colombo road up to the Galaha Junction. (Crowds near heaps of corpses, which bore unmistakable marks of torture, would make buses slow down or even stop.) On that day, the writer boarded a Colombo-bound bus, which left Matara at dawn after the curfews imposed by the government and the JVP were lifted. The clunker stopped at an eatery in the Ahangama town, where there was a heavy military presence, as the bus crew thought that no other restaurant would be open beyond that point.

A little distance away from the eating house, about 10 corpses were in flames on a tyre-pyre on the roadside, and a revolting stench of burning human flesh pervaded the air, but the passengers were tucking into buns, etc., and sipping tea quietly while beholding the gruesome scene. It was a sign of the public being desensitised to the horrors of mindless violence unleashed by the Red, Green and Khaki yakas.

The real devils were the JVP killers and the counterterror operatives who went on killing sprees and ran dungeons like the Eliyakanda torture camp or the K-Point in Matara.

Hell must have been empty at that time, for all the devils were in this country preying on the youth!

Death-dealing JVP sparrow units armed with an assortment of weapons unleashed hell in the South, which was a hotbed of terror and counterterror. The JVP ordered poll boycotts, ca’cannies, work stoppages and protests at gunpoint, and noncompliance as well as dissent was suppressed in the most brutal manner.

Many civilians who dared exercise their franchise in defiance of the southern terrorists’ calls for poll boycotts died violent deaths at the hands of the JVP death squads, some of whose victims were burnt alive. Not to be outdone, the then UNP regime set in motion its Caravan of Death, which left streets strewn with corpses of young men and women.

‘The Mountain of Death’

The writer remembers a piteous sight he witnessed more than 30 years ago in a far-flung part of the Ratnapura District. He was a member of a media team, tasked with reporting on the digging up of a mass grave on the mist-clad summit of picturesque Suriyakanda.

The skeletal remains of over one dozen schoolboys from Embilipitiya abducted, tortured, murdered and buried by the counterterror units deployed by the UNP government were found buried in a deep pit.

The mass grave was located away from the winding main road, and only four-wheel drives could reach it. Nylon boot laces used to truss up the victims were still intact. The exhumation process proved extremely tedious. Dusk was falling with a thick blanket of an unforgiving fog enveloping the mountaintop reducing visibility to near zero. The then Opposition politicians and others engaged in the exhumation of what remained of children’s corpses had to call it a day and return to Colombo.

The media team headed for Suriyakanda again the following morning itself. At several places near Pelmadulla, where they broke the journey, they found rotting corpses removed from nearby cemeteries and dumped on the roadside by pro-UNP thugs as a warning. Worse, cattle bones had been dumped into the partially dug up mass grave on the Suriyakanda summit. However, digging continued without any untoward incident thereafter and parts of more human skeletons were unearthed; all of them were dispatched to the Embilipitiya Court under magisterial supervision and subsequently sent for forensic examination. Some of those who were involved in the mass murder were brought to justice.

Mass displacement of yakas

Much is spoken these days about the displacement of humans and animals like elephants, but that of the southern devils has gone unnoticed! In Matara, urbanisation has led to a sprawling conurbation that encompasses what used to be the countryside, which was home to many yakas.

Urbanisation causes residential areas to shrink and eventually make way for the expansion of commerce. The spread of banlieues and rurban areas has pushed the devils further into the hinterland in the South. Humans’ insatiable greed for land has not spared even cemeteries where some awe-inspiring, old mausolea once stood majestically, intensifying the thrill we, as schoolboys, used to get from horror flicks. This detestable graveyard grab, as it were, however, exemplifies a saying popular among the southerners; roughly rendered into English it means that the people who are scared of devils do not build houses on cemeteries.

Unbridled urbanisation, the advancement of medicine, increasing accessibility to healthcare, and the proliferation of education, which inculcates scientific reasoning and critical thinking in the public, must have caused the mass displacement of yakas. Alas, whatever the reasons, Matara has become much poorer without its demons (not the gun-toting ones)—at least for those who grew up among them.

by Prabath Sahabandu

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Features

Retirement age for judges: Innovation and policy

Published

21 hours ago

2026/04/6

Thilina Walpola

I. The Constitutional Context

Independence of the judiciary is, without question, an essential element of a functioning democracy. In recognition of this, ample provision is made in the highest law of our country, the Constitution, to engender an environment in which the courts are able to fulfil their public responsibility with total acceptance.

As part of this protective apparatus, judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal are assured of security of tenure by the provision that “they shall not be removed except by an order of the President made after an address of Parliament supported by a majority of the total number of members of Parliament, (including those not present), has been presented to the President for such removal on the ground of proved misbehaviour or incapacity”[Article 107(2)]. Since this assurance holds good for the entirety of tenure, it follows that the age of retirement should be defined with certainty. This is done by the Constitution itself by the provision that “the age of retirement of judges of the Supreme Court shall be 65 years and of judges of the Court of Appeal shall be 63 years”[Article 107(5)].

II. A Proposal for Reform

This provision has been in force ever since the commencement of the Constitution. Significant public interest, therefore, has been aroused by the lead story in a newspaper, Anidda of 13 March, that the government is proposing to extend the term of office of judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal by a period of two years.

This proposal, if indeed it reflects the thinking of the government, is deeply disturbing from the standpoint of policy, and gives rise to grave consequences. The courts operating at the apex of the judicial structure are called upon to do justice between citizens and also between the state and members of the public. It is an indispensable principle governing the administration of justice that not the slightest shadow of doubt should arise in the public mind regarding the absolute objectivity and impartiality with which the courts approach this task.

What is proposed, if the newspaper report is authentic, is to confer on judges of two particular courts, the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal, a substantial benefit or advantage in the form of extension of their years of service. The question is whether the implications of this initiative are healthy for the administration of justice.

III. Governing Considerations of Policy

What is at stake is a principle intuitively identified as a pillar of justice.

Reflecting firm convictions, the legal antecedents reiterate the established position with remarkable emphasis. The classical exposition of the seminal standard is, of course, the pronouncement by Lord Hewart: “It is not merely of some importance, but is of fundamental importance that justice should not only be done, but should manifestly and undoubtedly be seen to be done”. (Rex v. Sussex Justices, ex parte McCarthy). The underlying principle is that perception is no less important than reality. The mere appearance of partiality has been held to vitiate proceedings: Dissanayake v. Kaleel. In particular, reasonableness of apprehension in the mind of the parties to litigation is critical: Ranjit Thakur v. Union of India, a reasonable likelihood of bias being necessarily fatal (Manak Lal v. Prem Chaud Singhvi).

The overriding factor is unshaken public confidence in the judiciary: State of West Bengal v. Shivananda Pathak. The decision must be “demonstrably” (Saleem Marsoof J.) fair. The Bar Association of Sri Lanka has rightly declared: “The authority of the judiciary ultimately depends on the trust reposed in it by the people, which is sustained only when justice is administered in a visibly fair manner”.

Credibility is paramount in this regard. “Justice has to be seen to be believed” (J.B. Morton). Legality of the outcome is not decisive; process is of equal consequence. Judicial decisions, then, must withstand public scrutiny, not merely legal technicality: Mark Fernando J. in the Jana Ghosha case. Conceived as continuing vitality of natural justice principles, these are integral to justice itself: Samarawickrema J. in Fernando v. Attorney General. Institutional integrity depends on eliminating even the appearance of partiality (Mandal Vikas Nigam Ltd. v. Girja Shankar Pant), and “open justice is the cornerstone of our judicial system”: (Sahara India Real Estate Corporation Ltd. v. SEBI).

IV. Practical Constraints

Apart from these compelling considerations of policy, there are practical aspects which call for serious consideration. The effect of the proposal is that, among all judges operating at different levels in the judicature of Sri Lanka, judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal only, to the exclusion of all other judges, are singled out as the beneficiaries of the proposal. An inevitable result is that High Court and District Judges and Magistrates will find their avenues of promotion seriously impeded by the unexpected lengthening of the periods of service of currently serving judges in the two apex courts. Consequently, they will be required to retire at a point of time appreciably earlier than they had anticipated to relinquish judicial office because the prospect of promotion to higher courts, entailing higher age limits for retirement, is precipitately withdrawn. Some degree of demotivation, arising from denial of legitimate expectation, is therefore to be expected.

A possible response to this obvious problem is a decision to make the two-year extension applicable to all judicial officers, rather than confining it to judges of the two highest courts. This would solve the problem of disillusionment at lower levels of the judiciary, but other issues, clearly serious in their impact, will naturally arise.

Public service structures, to be equitable and effective, must be founded on principles of non-discrimination in respect of service conditions and related matters. Arbitrary or invidious treatment is destructive of this purpose. In determining the age of retirement of judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal, some attention has been properly paid to balance and consistency. The age of retirement of a Supreme Court judge is on par with that applicable to university professors and academic staff in the higher education system. They all retire at 65 years. Members of the public service, generally, retire at 60. Medical specialists retire at 63, with the possibility of extension in special circumstances to 65. The age of retirement for High Court Judges is 61, and for Magistrates and District Judges 60. It may be noted that the policy change in 2022 aimed at specifically addressing the issue of uniformity and compatibility.

If, then, an attempt is made to carve out an ad hoc principle strictly limited to judicial officers, not admitting of a self-evident rationale, the question would inevitably arise whether this is fair by other categories of the public service and whether the latter would not entertain a justifiable sense of grievance.

This is not merely a moral or ethical issue relating to motivation and fulfillment within the public service, but it could potentially give rise to critical legal issues. It is certainly arguable that the proposed course of action represents an infringement of the postulate of equality of treatment, and non-discrimination, enshrined in Article 12(1) of the Constitution.

There would, as well, be the awkward situation that this issue, almost certain to be raised, would then have to be adjudicated upon by the Supreme Court, itself the direct and exclusive beneficiary of the impugned measure.

V. Piecemeal Amendment or an Overall Approach?

If innovation on these lines is contemplated, would it not be desirable to take up the issue as part of the new Constitution, which the government has pledged to formulate and enact, rather than as a piecemeal amendment at this moment to the existing Constitution? After all, Chapter XV, dealing with the Judiciary, contains provisions interlinked with other salient features of the Constitution, and an integrated approach would seem preferable.

VI. Conclusion

In sum, then, it is submitted that the proposed change is injurious to the institutional integrity of the judiciary and to the prestige and stature of judges, and that it should not be implemented without full consideration of all the issues involved.

By Professor G. L. Peiris
D. Phil. (Oxford), Ph. D. (Sri Lanka);
Former Minister of Justice, Constitutional Affairs and National Integration;
Quondam Visiting Fellow of the Universities of Oxford, Cambridge and London;
Former Vice-Chancellor and Emeritus Professor of Law of the University of Colombo.

Features

Ranked 134th in Happiness: Rethinking Sri Lanka’s development through happiness, youth wellbeing and resilience

Published

22 hours ago

2026/04/6

Thilina Walpola

In recent years, Sri Lanka has experienced a succession of overlapping challenges that have tested its resilience. Cyclone Ditwah struck Sri Lanka in November last year, significantly disrupting the normal lives of its citizens. The infrastructure damage is much more serious than the tsunami. According to World Bank reports and preliminary estimates, the losses amounted to approximately US$ 4.1 billion, nearly 4 per cent of the country’s Gross Domestic Product. Before taking a break from that, the emerging crisis in the Middle East has once again raised concerns about potential economic repercussions. In particular, those already affected by disasters such as Cyclone Ditwah risk falling “from the frying pan into the fire,” facing multiple hardships simultaneously. Currently, we see fuel prices rising, four-day workweeks, a higher cost of living, increased pressure on household incomes, and a reduction in the overall standard of living for ordinary citizens. It would certainly affect people’s happiness. As human beings, we naturally aspire to live happy and fulfilling lives. At a time when the world is increasingly talking about happiness and wellbeing, the World Happiness Report provides a useful way of looking at how countries are doing. The World Happiness Report discusses global well-being and offers strategies to improve it. The report is produced annually with contributions from the University of Oxford’s Wellbeing Research Centre, Gallup, the UN Sustainable Development Solutions Network, and other stakeholders. There are many variables taken into consideration for the index, including the core measure (Cantril Ladder) and six explanatory variables (GDP per Capita ,Social Support,Healthy Life Expectancy,Freedom to Make Life Choices,Generosity,Perceptions of Corruption), with a final comparison.

According to the recently published World Happiness Report 2026, Sri Lanka ranks 134th out of 147 nations. As per the report, this is the first time that Sri Lanka has suffered such a decline. Sri Lanka currently trails behind most of its South Asian neighbours in the happiness index. The World Happiness Report 2026 attributes Sri Lanka’s low ranking (134th) to a combination of persistent economic struggles, social challenges, and modern pressures on younger generations. The 2026 report specifically noted that excessive social media use is a growing factor contributing to declining life satisfaction among young people globally, including in Sri Lanka. This calls for greater vigilance and careful reflection. These concerns should be examined alongside key observations, particularly in the context of education reforms in Sri Lanka, which must look beyond their immediate scope and engage more meaningfully with the country’s future.

In recent years, a series of events has triggered political upheaval in countries such as Nepal, characterised by widespread protests, government collapse, and the emergence of interim administration. Most reports and news outlets described this as “Gen Z protests.” First, we need to understand what Generation Z is and its key attributes. Born between 1997 and 2012, Generation Z represents the first truly “digital native” generation—raised not just with the internet, but immersed in it. Their lives revolve around digital ecosystems: TikTok sets cultural trends, Instagram fuels discovery, YouTube delivers learning, and WhatsApp sustains peer communities. This constant, feed-driven engagement shapes not only how they consume content but how they think, act, and spend. Tech-savvy and socially aware, Gen Z holds brands to a higher standard. For them, authenticity, transparency, and accountability—especially on environmental and ethical issues—aren’t marketing tools; they’re baseline expectations. We can also observe instances of them becoming unnecessarily arrogant in making quick decisions and becoming tools of some harmful anti-social ideological groups. However, we must understand that any generation should have proper education about certain aspects of the normal world, such as respecting others, listening to others, and living well. More interestingly, a global survey by the McKinsey Health Institute, covering 42,083 people across 26 countries, finds that Gen Z reports poorer mental health than older cohorts and is more likely to perceive social media as harmful.

Youth health behaviour in Sri Lanka reveals growing concerns in mental health and wellbeing. Around 18% of youth (here, school-going adolescents aged 13-17) experience depression, 22.4% feel lonely, and 11.9% struggle with sleep due to worry, with issues rising alongside digital exposure. Suicide-related risks are significant, with notable proportions reporting thoughts, plans, and attempts, particularly among females. Bullying remains a significant concern, particularly among males, with cyberbullying emerging as a notable issue. At the same time, substance use is increasing, including tobacco, smokeless tobacco, and e-cigarettes. These trends highlight the urgent need for targeted interventions to support youth mental health, resilience, and healthier behavioural outcomes in Sri Lanka. We need to create a forum in Sri Lanka to keep young people informed about this. Sri Lanka can designate a date (like April 25th) as a National Youth Empowerment Day to strengthen youth mental health and suicide prevention efforts. This should be supported by a comprehensive, multi-sectoral strategy aligned with basic global guidelines. Key priorities include school-based emotional learning, counselling services, and mental health training for teachers and parents. Strengthening data systems, reducing access to harmful means, and promoting responsible media reporting are essential. Empowering families and communities through awareness and digital tools will ensure this day becomes a meaningful national call to action.

As discussed earlier, Sri Lanka must carefully understand and respond to the challenges arising from its ongoing changes. Sri Lanka should establish an immediate task force comprising responsible stakeholders to engage in discussions on ongoing concerns. Recognising that it is not a comprehensive solution, the World Happiness Index can nevertheless act as an important indicator in guiding a paradigm shift in how we approach education and economic development. For a country seeking to reposition itself globally, Sri Lanka must adopt stronger, more effective strategies across multiple sectors. Building a resilient and prosperous future requires sound policymaking and clear strategic direction.

(The writer is a Professor in Management Studies at the Open University of Sri Lanka. You can reach Professor Abeysekera via nabey@ou.ac.lk)

by Prof. Nalin Abeysekera

Features

Hidden diversity in Sri Lanka’s killifish revealed: New study reshapes understanding of island’s freshwater biodiversity

Published

22 hours ago

2026/04/6

Thilina Walpola

Aplocheilus parvus

A groundbreaking new study led by an international team of scientists, including Sri Lankan researcher Tharindu Ranasinghe, has uncovered striking genetic distinctions in two closely related killifish species—reshaping long-standing assumptions about freshwater biodiversity shared between Sri Lanka and India.

Published recently in Zootaxa, the research brings together leading ichthyologists such as Hiranya Sudasinghe, Madhava Meegaskumbura, Neelesh Dahanukar and Rajeev Raghavan, alongside other regional experts, highlighting a growing South Asian collaboration in biodiversity science.

For decades, scientists debated whether Aplocheilus blockii and Aplocheilus parvus were in fact the same species. But the new genetic analysis confirms they are “distinct, reciprocally monophyletic sister species,” providing long-awaited clarity to their taxonomic identity.

Speaking to The Island, Ranasinghe said the findings underscore the hidden complexity of Sri Lanka’s freshwater ecosystems.

“What appears superficially similar can be genetically very different,” he noted. “Our study shows that even widespread, common-looking species can hold deep evolutionary histories that we are only now beginning to understand.”

A tale of two fishes

The study reveals that Aplocheilus blockii is restricted to peninsular India, while Aplocheilus parvus occurs both in southern India and across Sri Lanka’s lowland wetlands.

Despite their close relationship, the two species show clear genetic separation, with a measurable “genetic gap” distinguishing them. Subtle physical differences—such as the pattern of iridescent scales—also help scientists tell them apart.

Co-author Sudasinghe, who has led several landmark studies on Sri Lankan freshwater fishes, noted that such integrative approaches combining genetics and morphology are redefining taxonomy in the region.

Echoes of ancient land bridges

The findings also shed light on the ancient biogeographic links between Sri Lanka and India.

Scientists believe that during periods of low sea levels in the past, the two landmasses were connected by the now-submerged Palk Isthmus, allowing freshwater species to move between them.

Later, rising seas severed this connection, isolating populations and driving genetic divergence.

“These fishes likely dispersed between India and Sri Lanka when the land bridge existed,” Ranasinghe said. “Subsequent isolation has resulted in the patterns of genetic structure we see today.”

Meegaskumbura emphasised that such patterns are increasingly being observed across multiple freshwater fish groups in Sri Lanka, pointing to a shared evolutionary history shaped by geography and climate.

A deeper genetic divide

One of the study’s most striking findings is that Sri Lankan populations of A. parvus are genetically distinct from those in India, with no shared haplotypes between the two regions.

Dahanukar explained that this level of differentiation, despite relatively recent geological separation, highlights how quickly freshwater species can diverge when isolated.

Meanwhile, Raghavan pointed out that these findings reinforce the importance of conserving habitats across both countries, as each region harbours unique genetic diversity.

Implications for conservation

The study carries important implications for conservation, particularly in a country like Sri Lanka where freshwater ecosystems are under increasing pressure from development, pollution, and climate change.

Ranasinghe stressed that understanding genetic diversity is key to protecting species effectively.

“If we treat all populations as identical, we risk losing unique genetic lineages,” he warned. “Conservation planning must recognise these hidden differences.”

Sri Lanka is already recognised as a global biodiversity hotspot, but studies like this suggest that its biological richness may be even greater than previously thought.

A broader scientific shift

The research also contributes to a growing body of work by scientists such as Sudasinghe and Meegaskumbura, challenging traditional assumptions about species distributions in the region.

Earlier studies often assumed that many freshwater fish species were shared uniformly between India and Sri Lanka. However, modern genetic tools are revealing a far more complex picture—one shaped by ancient geography, climatic shifts, and evolutionary processes.

“We are moving from a simplistic view of biodiversity to a much more nuanced understanding,” Ranasinghe said. “And Sri Lanka is proving to be a fascinating natural laboratory for this kind of research.”

Looking ahead

The researchers emphasise that much remains to be explored, with several freshwater fish groups in Sri Lanka still poorly understood at the genetic level.

For Sri Lanka, the message is clear: beneath its rivers, tanks, and wetlands lies a largely untapped reservoir of evolutionary history.

As Ranasinghe puts it:

“Every stream could hold a story of millions of years in the making. We are only just beginning to read them.”

By Ifham Nizam