I have no intention of even implicitly commenting on the legality of the ongoing incarceration of Douglas Devananda.

I’ve no legal background, and that’s because having been selected for the Law faculty at the University of Colombo on the basis of my A level results, I opted to study Political Science instead. I did so because I had an acute sense of the asymmetry between the law and justice and had developed a growing compulsion on issues of ethics—issues of right and wrong, good and evil.

However, as someone who has had a book published in the UK on political ethics, I have no compunction is saying that as a country, as a society, there has to be a better way than this.

It is morally and ethically wrong, indeed a travesty, that Douglas, a wounded hero of the anti-LTTE war, should spend New Year 2026 in the dreaded Mahara prison.

Douglas should be honoured as a rare example of a young man, who having quite understandably taken up arms to fight against Sinhala racism and for the Tamil people, decided while still a young man to opt to fight on the side of the democratic Sri Lankan state and to campaign for devolution for the North and East within the framework of a united Sri Lanka and its Constitution.

Douglas was an admired young leader of the PLA, the military wing of the Marxist EPRLF when he began to be known.

Nothing is more ironic than the historical fact that in July 1983 he survived the horrifying Welikada prison massacres, during which Sinhala prisoners, instigated and incentivized from outside (Gonawela Sunil is a name that transpired), slaughtered Tamil prisoners and gauged out their eyes.

Having escaped from jail in Batticaloa, Douglas came back to Sri Lanka in 1989, having had a change of heart after hundreds of youngsters belonging to the EPRLF, PLOT, and TELO had been massacred from 1986 onwards by the hardcore separatist, totalitarian Tigers. He was welcomed by President Premadasa and Minister Ranjan Wijeratne who took him and his ‘boys’ under their wing. There are photos of Douglas in shorts and carrying an automatic weapon, accompanying Ranjan Wijeratne and the Sri Lankan armed forces after the liberation of the islands off Jaffna from the Tiger grip.

It is Douglas who kept those vital islands safe, together with the Navy, throughout the war.

Douglas stayed with the democratic Sri Lankan state, remaining loyal to the elected president of the day, without ever turning on his or her predecessor. He probably still wears, as he did for decades, the fountain pen that President Premadasa gifted him.

During the LTTE’s offensive on Jaffna after the fall of Elephant Pass, the mass base built up by Douglas which gave the EPDP many municipal seats, helped keep Jaffna itself safe, with more Tamil civilians fleeing into Jaffna than out of it. I recall President Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga giving him a satellite phone. Army Chief Lionel Balagalle gave him a pair of mini-Uzis for his safety.

Douglas was no paramilitary leader, pure and simple. His public speech on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of the founding of the Sri Lanka Freedom Party, delivered without a teleprompter, is an excellent roadmap for the graduated implementation of the 13th amendment and the attainment of maximum devolution within a unitary state.

Like Chandrika, Douglas has had his sight severely impaired by the LTTE. As a Minister he had visited Tamil detainees imprisoned in wartime, and been set upon by a group of LTTE prisoners who had planned for his visit, concealing sharpened handles of steel buckets in the ceiling, and slammed the pointed metal through his skull. Douglas still needs repeated daily medication for his eyes which were miraculously saved by the Sri Lankan surgeons who repaired his skull, but at a subsequent stage, he was also treated by surgeons overseas.

No Sri Lankan, Sinhala or Tamil, civilian politician or military brass, has survived as many attempted assassinations by the Tigers as has Douglas. I believe the count is eleven. There’s a video somewhere of a suicide bomber blasting herself in his office, yards away from him.

Under no previous Sri Lankan administration since the early 1980s has Douglas found himself behind bars. He has served and/or supported seven democratic Presidents: Premadasa, Wijetunga, Chandrika, Mahinda, Sirisena, Gotabaya and Wickremesinghe. He has been a Minister over decades and a parliamentarian for longer.

He was a firm frontline ally of the Sri Lankan state and its armed forces during the worst challenge the country faced from the worst enemy it had since Independence.

During my tenure as Sri Lanka’s ambassador/Permanent representative to the UN Geneva, Douglas Devananda came from Colombo to defend Sri Lanka in discussions with high level UN officials including UN Human Rights High Commissioner Navanethem Pillay. This was in April 23, mere weeks before the decisive battle of the UN HRC Special session on Sri Lanka which we won handsomely. The media release on his visit reads as follows:

A high-level delegation led by the Hon. Minister Douglas Devananda, Minister of Social Services and Social Welfare, which also included the Hon. Rishad Bathiudeen, Minister of Resettlement and Disaster Relief Services, H.E. Dr. Dayan Jayatilleka, Ambassador/ Permanent Representative of Sri Lanka to the United Nations Office in Geneva, Prof. Rajiva Wijesinha, Secretary to the Ministry of Disaster Management and Human Rights, and Mr. Yasantha Kodagoda, Deputy Solicitor General, Attorney General’s Department, represented Sri Lanka at the Durban Review Conference.

“Organized by the United Nations, the Durban Review Conference provides an opportunity to assess and accelerate progress on implementation of measures adopted at the 2001 World Conference against Racism, including assessment of contemporary forms of racism, racial discrimination, xenophobia and related intolerance. On the opening day of this conference, Hon. Douglas Devananda made a statement behalf of the Government of Sri Lanka.

“On the sidelines of the Durban Review Conference which is being held from 20th to 24th of April 2009, the Sri Lankan delegation met with senior UN officials, and a number of dignitaries from diverse countries and updated them on the current situation in Sri Lanka against the backdrop of Sri Lanka’s fight against separatism and terrorism.

Hon. Devananda and Hon. Bathiudeen, along with the rest of the delegation, held meetings with Ms. Navanethem Pillai, UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, Mr. Antonio Guterres, UN High Commissioner for Refugees (and a former Prime Minister of Portugal) and Mr. Anders Johnsson, Secretary-General of the Inter-Parliamentary Union.’

(https://live.lankamission.org/index.php/human-rights/676-minister-devananda-meets-un-high-commissioners-for-human-rights-and-refugees-2.html)

In contemporary world history, a leader from a minority community who defends the unity of his country against a separatist terrorist force deriving from that minority is hailed as a hero. A leader who takes the side of the democratic state, arms in hand, against a totalitarian fascistic foe, is hailed as a hero. Evidently, not so in current-day Sri Lanka.

[Dayan Jayatilleka, Sri Lanka’s former Ambassador to the UN Geneva; France, Spain, Portugal and UNESCO; and the Russian Federation, was a Vice-President of the UN Human Rights Council and Chairman, ILO.]

by Dr Dayan Jayatilleka  ✍️

A call to transform schools from shelters of safety into sanctuaries of solidarity

(Part I of this article appeared on 10 Dec. 2025— https://island.lk/a-national-post-cyclone-reflection-period/)

What Could NPCRP Look Like in School?

In the aftermath of Cyclone Ditwah, Sri Lankan schools can play a crucial role in helping children process their experiences, rebuild their sense of safety, and find meaning in collective healing. To achieve this, schools can employ a period of at least two or three weeks of continuous reflection and creative processing, a rich set of classroom, school-wide, and community-level activities, tailored to the needs of students in the post-disaster landscape.

Classroom Level: Beyond morning assemblies and daily curricular learning, classrooms can engage in reflection-based group projects that deepen understanding and reconstruct a sense of narrative around the disaster. Students may create timelines of the cyclone, maps of affected areas, and “hero stories” honoring rescuers, first responders, volunteers, teachers, parents, and neighbours. They can also explore environmental dimensions by studying land management, erosion, and deforestation—connecting personal trauma with broader ecological lessons. Using ordinary mobile phones, groups may produce mini documentaries capturing their community’s stories, strengthening both empathy and agency.

One powerful approach could be to dedicate the first period of each school day to guided sharing circles facilitated by teachers. During these sessions, students can explore gentle prompts such as: What did I experience? What did I witness? What am I feeling now—and why? What do I need to feel safe? How can I help my family or community? What have I or haven’t I done that would have contributed to natural disasters? What am I or am I not doing to contribute to environmental preservation? What more could I or couldn’t I do to avoid further ecological harm? Children may express themselves through spoken reflection, creative writing, drawing, painting, journaling, storytelling, role-play, poetry, song, or even handicrafts made from safely cleaned, recycled flood debris.

School Level: At the school level, exhibitions of student expressions, multi-faith remembrance ceremonies, guest talks by mental-health professionals, environmental awareness workshops, tree-planting memorials, disaster drills, and student-led volunteer clubs can bring the whole school community together in collective learning and restoration. Peer-support groups and simple grounding exercises can help students process emotions gently and safely. Collaborative murals and wall paintings portraying hope and resilience can serve as both an emotional outlet and a communal act of rebuilding.

Community Level: Beyond the school walls, community-based initiatives—such as joint parent-student rebuilding projects, clean-up campaigns, home-visit systems for affected families, partnerships with clergy and village leaders, parental sharing groups, and collaborations with NGOs for counselling and disaster training—help weave stronger bonds between families, educators, and local institutions.

Throughout the NPCRP process, teachers and parents can play an essential psychosocial role by observing children with quiet attentiveness. Signs such as withdrawal, silence, unusual aggression, disturbed sleep routines, anxiety triggered by rain or thunder, sudden academic decline, or persistent sadness may indicate deeper distress. Those showing significant symptoms can be gently referred to school counsellors, psychosocial officers, or local mental-health teams for additional support. Early identification can be life-changing, especially for children who may otherwise suffer in silence.

After the NPCRP period, schools might organize a simple but meaningful internal exhibition showcasing student artwork, posters on resilience and disaster preparedness, documentary videos, and a “wall of gratitude” dedicated to rescue workers and volunteers. A remembrance corner honoring victims and survivors can provide a quiet space for communal reflection. Parents, guardians, religious leaders, and community members may be invited to witness the strength and vulnerability of their young people and to reaffirm a shared commitment to rebuilding lives and landscapes.

The reflection period may culminate in a closing ceremony of remembrance and resolve—an inclusive event that reflects Sri Lanka’s multicultural and multi-religious identity. The program could include a moment of silence, the lighting of oil lamps or candles, blessings from clergy of different faith traditions, and the felicitation of survivors and volunteer responders. Schools may also unveil a small, simple memorial—perhaps a stone, a tree, or a bench—created collaboratively by students, parents, and teachers, bearing a message such as: “From suffering, we rise — Cyclone Ditwah, 2025.” Even the simplest symbol can become a powerful reminder of shared endurance and collective hope.

Finally, schools could document this entire journey by gathering student photographs, stories, artwork, and personal reflections into a printed booklet or digital archive. Such a record would serve not only as a testimony of what the children endured, but also as a chronicle of resilience, solidarity, and renewal, something future generations can look back on as they continue the work of building a safer, more compassionate, and more environmentally conscious Sri Lanka.

Why Does NPCRP Matter?

Creating space for reflection and healing after Cyclone Ditwah should not be an optional exercise, but a national imperative. Emotional healing is essential because children recover best when they are encouraged to express what they have lived through; silence, on the other hand, often deepens fear, while shared storytelling strengthens resilience. This process, when adhered to within an established framework such as the Canadian sharing model or Jesuit spiritual conversation, is therefore therapeutic, nurturing respect and community-building through active listening and intentional speaking. As young people hear one another’s experiences, they develop empathy, and empathy in turn strengthens social cohesion—the foundation of a healthy democracy. Psychosocial activities that students engaged in during this period further facilitate opportunities to identify and support those students who show early signs of distress, while transforming schools into nurturing spaces that form whole persons, not just exam-takers.

Crucially, this period allows schools to integrate values that often remain outside the syllabus—emotional intelligence, ecological responsibility, national solidarity, and ethical reflection—contributing to strengthening national identity, as young people from diverse ethnic, linguistic, and social backgrounds discover a common narrative of suffering and survival. Also, fostering an understanding of environmental responsibility encourages sustainable behaviors that benefit the nation’s ecosystems for decades to come. Ultimately, these efforts strengthen the triangle of school–home–community relationships, building trust networks that not only support healing now but fortify the Sri Lankan nation against the uncertainties of the future. In that light, the cyclone, devastating as it was, offers a real-world context through which these values can be meaningfully taught and internalized.

Just as early psychosocial support leads to healthier long-term mental health outcomes, preventing deep-seated trauma from taking root, the long-term benefits of reflection extend well beyond the current disaster. Sri Lanka’s increasing vulnerability to monsoons and cyclones underscores the need to prepare the next generation for future disasters; children who learn to respond proactively, intelligently, and compassionately today will grow into adults who can lead communities safely through tomorrow’s crises. Children who are given tools to process trauma today will mature into resilient, compassionate, and confident adults capable of leadership in difficult times. A culture of solidarity can begin to take root when young people learn to care for “the other”, helping to soften and heal the country’s longstanding divisions. Improved disaster preparedness becomes a natural by-product of an educated and emotionally informed younger generation, reducing future loss of life and enhancing community responsiveness.

Conclusion

Cyclone Ditwah has forced Sri Lanka into a moment of profound reckoning—one that goes beyond the damaged infrastructure and broken landscapes. It has confronted us with the emotional and moral responsibility we hold toward our children, who have witnessed, endured, and responded to this disaster in countless ways. As the nation embarks on the long road to recovery, the reopening of schools becomes more than a logistical necessity; it becomes a national act of renewal, a declaration that our commitment to healing is as strong as our commitment to rebuilding.

If we are courageous enough to embrace this moment, schools can become powerful spaces of transformation. Not only can they restore stability and routine, but they should be the first places to cultivate empathy, resilience, ecological responsibility, and a shared sense of belonging, the qualities that Sri Lanka urgently needs as it confronts both old and emerging challenges. By creating structured opportunities for reflection, dialogue, creativity, and community engagement, we ensure that our children do not merely “move on” but move forward with understanding, resilience, educated solidarity, and purpose.

To that end, if the experiences carried by Sri Lankan children today are met with guided reflection and compassionate mentorship at school, they can become the seeds of a more humane and united nation. But if ignored, suppressed, or treated with less urgency and priority, they risk hardening into private wounds that isolate rather than connect. This is why the Ministry of Education’s choices in the coming weeks matter so profoundly. Like NPCRP, an intentional, well-structured reflective period within schools is not a delay in learning; it is learning in its highest form. It is the education that acknowledges life, loss, dignity, and responsibility, the kind of education that prepares children not only for examinations but for citizenship. Reopening schools without systematically addressing the emotional and moral dimensions of this tragedy, therefore, would be a missed opportunity

Hence, let us allow this disaster to teach us something enduring: that Sri Lanka rises strongest not when it focuses solely on rebuilding walls and bridges, but when it rebuilds its people, beginning with the youngest among us. Let us empower children to speak, share, create, question, and hope. Let us help them connect their experiences to a greater moral and ecological awareness. Let us show them that solidarity is not a distant ideal but a lived reality, learned through compassion and strengthened through community.

In the months and years to come, a new story will be told about how Sri Lanka responded to Cyclone Ditwah. Let that story be one of unity, vision, and courage. Let it be said that we refused to let our children carry their fears alone. Let it be remembered that our schools became sanctuaries of healing and hubs of civic renewal. And let it be known that from the grief of 2025 emerged a generation—educated, empathetic, and resilient—capable of guiding Sri Lanka toward a more just, prepared, and environmentally conscious future. As the legendary image of the Phoenix reminds us, from mud, we rise, and from learning, we (re)build the Sri Lanka she was always meant to be. (Concluded)

Dr. Rashmi M. Fernando, S.J., is a Jesuit priest, educator, and special assistant to the provost at Loyola Marymount University, Los Angeles, California, USA.

by Dr. Rashmi M. Fernando, S.J. ✍️

It is with profound sadness that we received the shocking news of untimely passing of our dear leader Lakshman Balasuriya.

I first met Lakshman Balasuriya in 1988 while working at John Keells, which had been awarded an IT contract to computerise Senkadagala Finance. Thereafter, in 1992, I joined the E. W. Balasuriya Group of Companies and Senkadagala Finance when the organisation decided to bring its computerisation in-house.

Lakshman Balasuriya obtained his BSc from the University of London and his MSc from the University of Lancaster. He was not only intellectually brilliant, but also a highly practical and pragmatic individual, often sitting beside me to share instructions and ideas, which I would then translate directly into the software through code.

My first major assignment was to computerise the printing press. At the time, the systems in place were outdated, and modernisation was a challenging task. However, with the guidance, strong support, and decisive leadership of our boss, we were able to successfully transform the printing press into a modern, state-of-the-art operation.

He was a farsighted visionary who understood the value and impact of information technology well ahead of his time. He possessed a deep knowledge of the subject, which was rare during those early years. For instance, in the 1990s, Balasuriya engaged a Canadian consultant to conduct a cybersecurity audit—an extraordinary initiative at a time when cybersecurity was scarcely spoken of and far from mainstream.

During that period, Senkadagala Finance’s head office was based in Kandy, with no branch network. When the decision was made to open the first branch in Colombo, our IT team faced the challenge of adapting the software to support branch operations. It was him who proposed the innovative idea of creating logical branches—a concept well ahead of its time in IT thinking. This simple yet powerful idea enabled the company to expand rapidly, allowing branches to be added seamlessly to the system. Today, after many upgrades and continuous modernisation, Senkadagala Finance operates over 400 locations across the country with real-time online connectivity—a testament to his original vision.

In September 2013, we faced a critical challenge with a key system that required the development of an entirely new solution. A proof of concept was prepared and reviewed by Lakshman Balasuriya, who gave the green light to proceed. During the development phase, he remained deeply involved, offering ideas, insights, and constructive feedback. Within just four months, the system was successfully developed and went live—another example of his hands-on leadership and unwavering support for innovation.

These are only a few examples among many of the IT initiatives that were encouraged, supported, and championed by him. Information technology has played a pivotal role in the growth and success of the E. W. Balasuriya Group of Companies, including Senkadagala Finance PLC, and much of that credit goes to his foresight, trust, and leadership.

On a deeply personal note, I was not only a witness to, but also a recipient of, the kindness, humility, and humanity of Lakshman Balasuriya. There were occasions when I lost my temper and made unreasonable demands, yet he always responded with firmness tempered by gentleness. He never lost his own composure, nor did he ever harbour grudges. He had the rare ability to recognise people’s shortcomings and genuinely tried to guide them toward self-improvement.

He was not merely our boss. To many of us, he was like a father and a brother.

I will miss him immensely. His passing has left a void that can never be filled. Of all the people I have known in my life, Mr. Lakshman Balasuriya stands apart as one of the finest human beings.

He leaves behind his beloved wife, Janine, his children Amanthi and Keshav, and the four grandchildren.

May he rest in eternal peace!

Timothy De Silva

(Information Systems Officer at Senkadagala Finance.)