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Ranil’s Triple-R Programme – Relief, Rehabilitation and Reconciliation – and work style

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Ranil

The second leg of the peace process and something which the LTTE always considered of the highest priority, and reiterated at the talks, was the rapid rehabilitation and development of the conflict-affected areas – mainly the Northern and Eastern Provinces. This consisted of eight districts of the 25 in the country. Since the conflict had inevitably spilled over the boundaries of the eight districts, it became necessary to also bring in what was called the adjacent districts of Puttalam, Anuradhapura, Polonnaruwa and Moneragala. Some of these were earlier referred to as ‘border villages’ but since it was necessary to have a neutral term instead of accepting territorial borders, the term ‘adjacent district’ was being increasingly used in the documentation.

The organizational structure to handle work connected with relief, rehabilitation and reconciliation came under the purview of the prime minister directly through the office of the commissioner-general for the coordination of the Triple-R program. There had been a national framework for the Three-R’s prepared during the time of the previous government starting around 1999. Ranil decided to adopt this framework for his accelerated program of restoration of the conflict-affected areas. I was appointed the commissioner-general of the office for the Triple-R and once again, as in 1983, was not only holder of such a title but was also given authority to plan, organize and monitor programs of all the ministries and provincial and district authorities whose normal work involved elements of relief, rehabilitation and reconciliation.

Ranil also created three new ministries to cover in addition to resettlement of IDPs (internally displaced persons) and refugees, Eastern Province Development and the Vanni. There was inevitably some overlap and one of my functions of coordination was to sort out the problems caused thereby. Being secretary to the prime minister gave me the necessary authority to do so. The work of the commissioner-general was quite heavy as anything serious that developed within the rather large area of its mandate would finally find its way up to me; but I found it very fulfilling.

We defined relief as being the provision of urgent humanitarian assistance to the almost one million persons who had been internally displaced during the years of conflict. The IDPs used to be generally referred to as refugees, a term which in fact technically only applies to those who had left Sri Lanka seeking asylum in countries abroad. In fact, we concerned ourselves about the refugees too who must have numbered around half a million in several of the developed countries. I was particularly interested in the 66,000 Tamil refugees who had remained for several years in camps in southern India and were awaiting a chance to return home now that peace had been restored. UNHCR was doing a superb job as regards the IDPs and had stretched its mandate and resources to the maximum to protect and assist this most vulnerable group which the long war had spawned.

I raised a staff virtually overnight bringing together once again, as I had done in 1983, proven and trusted senior officials. Many of them had to be Tamil since consultation with field level personnel had to be in that language. Also it required the necessary contact to be established with persons of the LTTE who were also learning to handle administrative and developmental functions in their area which covered about 6,000 square kilometers in the Vanni region of the north. I was able to bring on board Dr A S Kunasingham and Dr A Ambalavanar as two expert advisors. Three commissioners of high quality were brought in – Maj Gen Devinda Kalupahana to be in charge of reconciliation; S Sivanandan for strategic planning & implementation and W A S Perera, a newly retired secretary of the government familiar with defence matters and rehabilitation for institutional capacity building.

Of them Sivanandan had been with me both in Ampara and Galle during my government agent days and later on in essential services. Various other senior retired staff were brought in as the organization grew and as the occasion demanded. We offered good remuneration since these were senior retired officers but the jobs were on very short-term contracts. As I frequently told them, the prime minister’s idea was for us to do a `holding operation’ until the Interim Administration, which the LTTE were preparing for, as the beginning of the Federal Unit, came into being. I believe that much of the success that came our way and our ability to work with such cordiality with the LTTE – counterparts was that we both understood that the Triple R organization was only performing a ‘trusteeship’ function. We would go out of existence as soon as the Interim Administration developed its capacity for effective management.

The support from foreign agencies in our effort was tremendous. The UNDP helped in providing consultants,46 vehicles, computers, funds for institutional capacity building and disseminating information. UNHCR and UNICEF too were similarly helpful. The entire donor community of nations as represented in Colombo through their embassies came around to support a cause they were vitally interested in and the overall impression was upbeat with things looking good, even at times euphoric.

The Donor Conference Tokyo June 2003

The Tokyo Donor meeting in the middle of 2003 was organized by the Japanese with their customary skill and organizational brilliance. It was superbly chaired by Ambassador Akashi and Ranil, Koizumi, the PM of Japan, and Richard Armitage, the Deputy Secretary of State of the US representing Gen Colin Powell, made the opening speeches. Delegations from 52 donor countries and international agencies made up the assemblage who had before them for their consideration, both the Regaining Sri Lanka document and the Basic Needs Assessments for Rehabilitation and Development of the conflict-affected areas.

The US was one of the co-chairs of the meeting and the donor consortium which carried the process forward. In addition to Richard Armitage, who represented the US, the other co-chairs were Akashi of Japan, Vidar Helgesson of Norway and Chris Patten of the EU. Pledges of money in grant and loan aid were made at the end of the meeting. We were all pleasantly surprised that the total support reached the record sum of US$ 4.5 billion to be disbursed over a period of four years. Japan itself pledged US$1,000 million and the multi-laterals – the Asian Development Bank and the World Bank close to a billion each. The balance billion and a half were made up of over 20 bilateral donors.

Ranil had achieved through his strenuous advocacy something which no other leader of Sri Lanka had done. His concern was whether we could absorb this massive quantum of assistance with the existing institutional capacity we possessed. About two-thirds of the aid was to go to the south for projects directly related to the alleviation of poverty. The other one-third was for the north-east to help rehabilitate the conflict damaged economy. But one of the conditions the donors insisted on was that disbursement of aid would be tied in some way to progress on the peace front. This was understandable from the donor’s point of view since they did not want to see their tax-payers money being once again wasted through a destructive war.

What Did Triple-R Achieve?

We became operational in June 2002 and by the end of 2003 there was a fair amount of work completed. More than 50 per cent of the IDPs were back in their homes helped through an elaborate scheme of personal livelihood assistance which we devised; around 10 per cent of the 1.5 million anti-personal mines strewn in the north and east during the war had been cleared with a target of total elimination by the year 2006. This project, which involved nine international NGOs, from the well-known Halo Trust to one which had the interesting name of the Humpty Dumpty Institute, not only promoted mine clearing, but assisted mine victims with prosthetics, provided children and women with mine risk education and also took on board the issue of advocacy for the banning of anti-personnel mines as a weapon of warfare.

At the UN General Assembly meeting in November 2002, Ranil went on record for Sri Lanka’s early accession to the Ottawa (mine ban) Treaty. What was most satisfying for me through all this was that the number of civilian victims of mines – mainly women and children – had fallen over the one and a half years from an average of 15-20 a month to a low of five to seven a month.

Rehabilitation of the road transport system which was in a deplorable state as a result of war damage and neglect over many years needed much time, money and effort. Contractors for the road work and rebuilding of hundreds of culverts and bridges were unavailable. Yet in a few short months, the arterial 90 kilometre highway between Vavuniya and Jaffna was completed and thousands began using this daily. The A9 road became the main link with the north after a gap of at least 12 years. An important link whose absence had divided north from south for many years was established and in the first flush of this newly found freedom thousands of Sinhalese Buddhists found it possible to visit and worship at the important temple on the island of Nagadipa off the Jaffna Peninsula.

My own visit to Jaffna one of my first official stations back in 1954 was heart breaking. The Residency in the Old Park where I had lived with the Sri Kantha’s was in ruins. The Kachcheri, where I had done my cadetship and learnt Tamil, looked like something out of an album of Dresden after the allied bombing. The branches of large trees were emerging from the windows of what had been the room at the front I had shared with the office assistant Mr Nadarajah. Sarath Fonseka, the military commander of Jaffna who entertained us to tea in the Pallali base camp told me that according to his figures, Jaffna was losing population. I thought he was right for the heart seemed to have been plucked out of the fine city I had known. I left Jaffna that evening in the middle of 2002, sad and dispirited but more than ever convinced that we should never be at war again with our own people.

Our Triple-R group was also responsible for the action, plan for reconciliation. This was largely Devinda Kalupahana’s’ work, It was constructed through intensive discussions with civil, society organizations in the field and most of the major southern stakeholders participated in the enterprise. Unfortunately we could not get the LTTE completely on board and this remained yet to be accomplished.

Ranil as a Corporate Chief Executive Officer (CEO)

How Ranil found the time for all the paper work that came to him was a mystery to me. Perhaps, he did this late into the night and combined it with his wide reading. But he could relax and do something entirely different on the weekends. He was very conscientious about dealing with papers and had a phenomenal ability to recall letters he had only glanced at, or conversations on the move. Occasionally he would refer when burdened with many things on his mind to ‘that thing’ and only those really close to him like Dayaratne, and Sandra Perera and Naufel Rahman, who had worked for him as secretary when he was leader of the opposition, would know what it was all about. They would unerringly know, and find the ‘thing’ for him.

Ranil had a great many people to meet on an average day in office – many of them from abroad – and found it convenient to be appropriately attired in smart jacket and tie from Monday to Friday. I suspect also that it was to keep himself reasonably comfortable in the intense cold that the always too high air-conditioning made of his conference room. On Saturday, in line with the modern trend, he would totally relax and dress down. It was then open-necked or designer T-shirt and uncreased slacks, with a pair of ‘pumps’ on his feet.

He loved going to Bentota in preference to using his official Nuwara Eliya residence ‘The Lodge’, because the air there was warm and dry and helpful to the sinus condition he was sometimes bothered with. After a while we took over, as an adjunct to the prime minister’s secretariat, two small virtually unused cottages on the spit of land near the Bentota Beach Hotel and made this an austere retreat. Once in a way, he used to have ‘Camp David’ style meetings with his local staff there and exceptionally with particular foreign delegations.

(Excerpted from ‘Rendering Unto Caesar’ by Bradman Weerakoon) ✍️



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Partnering India without dependence

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President Dissanayake with Indian PM Modi

Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi once again signaled the priority India places on Sri Lanka by swiftly dispatching a shipload of petrol following a telephone conversation with President Anura Kumara Dissanayake. The Indian Prime Minister’s gesture came at a cost to India, where there have been periodic supply constraints and regional imbalances in fuel distribution, even if not a countrywide shortage. Under Prime Minister Modi, India has demonstrated to Sri Lanka an abundance of goodwill, whether it be the USD 4 billion it extended in assistance to Sri Lanka when it faced international bankruptcy in 2022 or its support in the aftermath of the Ditwah cyclone disaster that affected large parts of the country four months ago. India’s assistance in 2022 was widely acknowledged as critical in stabilising Sri Lanka at a moment of acute crisis.

This record of assistance suggests that India sees Sri Lanka not merely as a neighbour but as a partner whose stability is in its own interest. In contrast to Sri Lanka’s roughly USD 90 billion economy, India’s USD 4,500 billion economy, growing at over 6 percent, underlines the vast asymmetry in economic scale and the importance of Sri Lanka engaging India. A study by the Germany-based Kiel Institute for the World Economy identifies Sri Lanka as the second most vulnerable country in the world to severe food price surges due to its heavy reliance on imported energy and fertilisers. Income per capita remains around the 2018 level after the economic collapse of 2022. The poverty level has risen sharply and includes a quarter of the population. These indicators underline the urgency of sustained economic recovery and the importance of external partnerships, including with India.

It is, however, important for Sri Lanka not to abdicate its own responsibilities for improving the lives of its people or become dependent and take this Indian assistance for granted. A long unresolved issue that Sri Lanka has been content to leave the burden to India concerns the approximately 90,000 Sri Lankan refugees who continue to live in India, many of them for over three decades. Only recently has a government leader, Minister Bimal Rathnayake, publicly acknowledged their existence and called on them to return. This is a reminder that even as Sri Lanka receives support, it must also take ownership of its own unfinished responsibilities.

Missing Investment

A missing factor in Sri Lanka’s economic development has long been the paucity of foreign investment. In the past this was due to political instability caused by internal conflict, weaknesses in the rule of law, and high levels of corruption. There are now significant improvements in this regard. There is now a window to attract investment from development partners, including India. In his discussions with President Dissanayake, Prime Minister Modi is reported to have referred to the British era oil storage tanks in Trincomalee. These were originally constructed to service the British naval fleet in the Indian Ocean. In 1987, under the Indo Lanka Peace Accord, Sri Lanka agreed to develop these tanks in partnership with India. A further agreement was signed in 2022 involving the Ceylon Petroleum Corporation and the Lanka Indian Oil Corporation to jointly develop the facility.

However, progress has been slow and the project remains only partially implemented. The value of these oil storage tanks has become clearer in the context of global energy uncertainty and tensions in the Middle East. Energy analysts have pointed out that strategic storage facilities can provide countries with greater resilience in times of supply disruption. The Trincomalee tanks could become a significant strategic asset not only for Sri Lanka but also for regional energy security. However, historical baggage continues to stand in the way of Sri Lanka’s deeper economic linkage with India. Both ancient and modern history shape perceptions on both sides.

The asymmetry in size and power between the two countries is a persistent concern within Sri Lanka. India is a regional power, while Sri Lanka is a small country. This imbalance creates both opportunities for partnership and anxieties about overdependence. The present government too has entered into economic and infrastructure agreements with India, but many of these have yet to move beyond initial stages. This has caused frustration to the Indian government, which sees its efforts to support Sri Lanka’s development as not being sufficiently appreciated or effectively utilised. From India’s perspective, delays and hesitation can appear as a lack of commitment. From Sri Lanka’s perspective, caution is often driven by domestic political sensitivities and concerns about sovereignty.

Power Imbalance

At the same time, global developments offer a cautionary lesson. The behaviour of major powers in the contemporary international system shows that states often act in their own interests, sometimes at the expense of smaller partners. What is being seen in the world today is that past friendships and commitments can be abandoned if a bigger and more powerful country can see an opportunity for itself. The plight of Denmark (Greenland) and Canada (51st state) give disturbing messages. Analysts in the field of International Relations frequently point out that power asymmetries shape outcomes in bilateral relations. As one widely cited observation by Lord Parlmeston, a 19th century prime minister of Great Britain is that “nations have no permanent friends or allies, they only have permanent interests.” While this may be an overly stark formulation, it captures an underlying reality that small states must navigate carefully.

For Sri Lanka, this means maintaining a balance. It needs to clearly acknowledge the partnership that India is offering in the area of economic development, as well as in education, connectivity, and technological advancement. India has extended scholarships, supported digital infrastructure, and promoted cross border links that can contribute to Sri Lanka’s long term growth. These are tangible benefits that should not be undervalued. At the same time, Sri Lanka needs to ensure that it does not become overly dependent on Indian largesse or drift into a position where it functions as an appendage of its much larger neighbour. Economic dependence can translate into political vulnerability if not carefully managed. The appropriate response is not to distance itself from India, but to broaden its partnerships. Engaging with a diverse range of countries and institutions can provide Sri Lanka with greater autonomy and resilience.

A hard headed assessment would recognise that India’s support is both genuine and interest driven. India has a clear stake in ensuring that Sri Lanka remains stable, prosperous, and aligned with its broader regional outlook. Sri Lanka needs to move forward with agreed projects such as the Trincomalee oil tanks, improve implementation capacity, and demonstrate reliability as a partner. This does not preclude it from actively seeking investment and cooperation from other partners in Asia and beyond. The path ahead is therefore one of balanced engagement. Sri Lanka can and should welcome India’s partnership while strengthening its own institutions, fulfilling its domestic responsibilities, and diversifying its external relations. This approach can transform a relationship shaped by asymmetry into one defined by mutual benefit and confidence.

by Jehan Perera

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The university student

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A file photo of a university students’ protest against private medical colleges

This Article is formed from listening to university students from across the country for two research initiatives, one on academic freedom and another on higher education policy. In speaking with students, the fears they carry could not be ignored. Students navigate university education, with anxieties about their future and fears that they and their university education are inadequate, all while managing their families’ daily struggles. I explore students’ anxieties and the extent to which we, the public, and higher education policies must take responsibility for their experiences.

The Neoliberal University

For decades, universities have been transforming. Neoliberal policies, promoted by the World Bank, have reduced public education expenditure and weakened the State’s commitment to public institutions. These policies frame individuals as responsible for their success and failure, minimising structural realities, such as poverty and precarity. They instrumentalise education, treat students as “products” for a “competitive’ job market, while education markets feed on students’ insecurities. Students are made to feel lacking in “soft skills”, or skills seemingly necessary to navigate classed-corporate structures, and lacking in technical skills, or those needed to operate technologies used within the private sector.

Student activists and, sometimes teachers, have challenged this worldview, demanding State commitment to free education. Governments sometimes yield but also fear the consequences of student politics and have long waged campaigns to discredit student activism. It is within this context that students pursue education.

Portrayal of students

A Peradeniya student told me student-organised events must meet “high standards”, because of the negative public perceptions of university students. I understood what she meant; I had heard of our ‘ungrateful’, ‘wasteful’, ‘unemployable’, and ‘entitled’ students. The media and decades of government propaganda have reinforced these depictions.

About 10 years ago, when government moves to privatise higher education were strong, a corporate executive, complaining about traffic caused by “yet another useless protest”, was unable to explain why they protested. News coverage, I realised, framed these protests as public inconveniences, rarely addressing students’ demands. A prominent advocate, of neoliberal educational policy, reinforced this narrative, saying “state university students make up just 10 percent of their cohorts”, gesturing dismissively as if to say their concerns were insignificant. Such language belittles student activists and youth, renders them voiceless and allows their concerns, such as classed worldviews, and access barriers to and privatisation of education, to be easily dismissed.

It is in this environment that the conception of the useless university student, fighting for no reason, has developed. Students must carry this misrepresentation, irrespective of their own involvement in activism.

Not being good enough

Attacks on free higher education and the absence of meaningful reforms designed to address students’ problems, now weigh on students’ minds. Students question whether their education is relevant and current, pointing to outdated equipment, software, and curricula. University administrators acknowledge these constraints, which reflect Sri Lanka’s ranking as one of the lowest in the world for the public funding of education and higher education.

Rarely has the World Bank, so influential in driving educational policy, highlighted the public funding crisis and, instead, emphasises technological deficiencies, the public sector’s “monopoly” of higher education and limited private sector involvement. It downplays the reality that few families can privately afford such funding arrangements.

Students are also bombarded with fee-levying programmes, promising skills and access to jobs, preying on students’ insecurities. Many, while struggling to make ends meet, enrol in off-campus pricy professional courses, such as in accountancy, marketing, or English.

The arts student

Some students worry their education is too theoretical and “Arts-focused.” A student from the University of Colombo described having to justify her decision to pursue an arts degree. The public, she said, saw this as a waste of her time and the country’s resources. She courageously wore this identity, yet questioned if she was, in fact, unemployable as she was being led to believe.

She does not, however, draw on the fact that arts education has long been the “cheap” option that governments have offered when pressured to expand higher education. While arts education may need fewer laboratories and equipment, they require adequate investments on teachers, strong on content and pedagogy, to closely engage with individual students; aspects of arts education which have systematically been disregarded.

As access broadens, particularly in the arts, more students from marginalised backgrounds have entered universities; students who may feel alien in systems aligned with corporate interests. Thus, students quite different from the classed conception of the “employable graduate,” whose education has systematically been under-funded, graduate from arts programmes frustrated, diffident, and ill-suited for jobs to which they are expected to aspire.

The dysfunctional university

Students voice criticisms of their teachers, as myopic, unworldly, and unfair. Their perspective reflects the universities’ culture of hierarchy and its intolerance of difference, on the one hand, and the weak institutional structures on the other. They are symptoms of years of neglect and attempts by governments to delegitimise universities, to shed themselves of the burden of funding higher education through anti-public sector rhetoric.

Some students, marginalised for being anti-rag, women, or ethnic minorities, feel an added layer of burdens. Anti-rag students, or more often, students who do not submit to university hierarchies, whether enforced by students or staff, are ostracised, demeaned and sometimes subjected to violence. Students unable to speak the institution’s dominant language face inadequate institutional support. Women describe being ignored and silenced in student union activities and left out of student leadership positions.

Furthermore, quality assurance processes rarely prioritise academic freedom or students’ right to exist as they wish, except when they complement the process of creating a desirable graduate for the job market. These processes focus on moulding professionals and technicians, as one would form clay, disregarding students’ anxieties from being alienated from themselves by such efforts.

Problems at home

Beyond the campus, parents face debt, illness, and precarious work. Students are acutely aware of these struggles. Some describe parents collapsing from the strain and sometimes leaving them to carry the family’s difficulties. A student described feeling guilty for being at the University while his family struggled to survive. To ease the burden on their families, students earn incomes by providing tuition, delivering food, and carrying out microbusinesses.

Tied to their concerns over having to depend on their families, is their fear of being “unemployable”, a term that places the blame of unemployment on students’ skill deficiencies. Little in this discourse connects the lack of decent work and jobs for them and their parents to the weak economy and job markets into which successive batches of graduates must transition. Much of the available jobs in the country are those that require little in the form of education, and those, too do little to provide a living wage. Students must, therefore, compete for a limited number and breadth of frankly not very desirable work. Yet, it is they who must feel the weight of unemployability.

Committing to students

Universities frequently fail to recognise students’ worries. Instead, we, coopt neoliberal discourses, telling students to become more marketable and competitive, do and learn more, be confident, improve English, learn to inhabit those classed spaces with ease; often without the support that should accompany these messages.

We expect these students, insecure and anxious, to think critically, and demonstrate curiosity and higher-order analyses. When they collapse under the pressure, universities respond by providing mental health services. While such services are needed, they risk individualising and pathologising systemic problems. They represent yet again the inherent flaws with solutions that emerge from neoliberal ideological positions that treat individuals as the source of all success and failure. Such perspectives are likely to reinforce students’ anxieties, rather than address them.

As Sri Lanka revisits education policy reforms, there is an opportunity to change our framings of education and to recognise these concerns of students as central to any policy. The state must renew its commitment to free education and move from the neoliberal logic that has guided successive reform efforts; we, as the public, must restore our hope and expectations from free education. Education across disciplines, the arts, as well as STEM (science, technology, engineering and mathematics), must be strengthened. Students’ freedom to inhabit university spaces as they wish, must be respected and protected by institutions. Education policies must be tied to broader economic and labour reforms that ensure families can safely earn a living wage and graduates can access a rich range of decent meaningful work.

(Shamala Kumar teaches at the University of Peradeniya)

Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.

by Shamala Kumar

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On the right track … as a solo artiste

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Mihiri: Worked with several top local band

Mihiri Chethana Gunawardena is certainly on the right track, in the music scene.

The plus factor, where Mihiri is concerned, is that she has music deeply rooted in her upbringing, and is now doing her thing in the Maldives.

Her father, Clifton Gunawardena, was a student of the legendary Premasiri Kemadasa and former rhythm guitarist of the Super 7 band.

Mihiri took to music, after her higher studies, and her first performance was with her father, while employed.

Mihiri Chethana Gunawardena

After eight years of balancing both worlds – working and music – she chose to follow her true calling and embraced music as her full-time profession.

Over the years, Mihiri has worked with some of the top bands in the local scene, including D Major, C Plus from Negombo, Heat with Aubrey, Mirage, D Zone Warehouse Project and Freeze.

In fact, she even put together her own band, Faith, in 2017, performing at numerous events, and weddings, before the Covid pandemic paused their journey.

What’s more, her singing career has taken her across borders –performing twice in Dhaka, Bangladesh, with the late Anil Bharathi and the late Roney Leitch, and multiple times in the Maldives, including a special New Year’s Eve performance with D Major.

In the Maldives, on a one-month contract

Last year, Mihiri was in Dubai, along with the group Knights, for the Ananda UAE 2025 dance.

She continues to grow as a solo artiste, now working closely with the renowned Wildfire guitarist Derek Wikramanayake, and performing, as a freelance musician, travelling around the world.

Right now, she is in the Maldives, on a one-month contract, marking a new chapter in her evolution as a solo vocalist.

On her return, she says, she hopes to create fresh cover songs and original music for her fans.

Mihiri believes in spreading joy and positivity through her singing, and peace and happiness for everyone around her, and for the world, through music.

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