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A wake-up call for stronger preparedness and coordination

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Impact of Cyclone Ditwah (Image courtesy PTI)

Lessons from Ditwah:

Fifteen days after Cyclone Ditwah tore through the country, the floodwaters have receded and the immediate shock has given way to reflection. As of December 14, 2025, the bodies recovered from landslides have been laid to rest, survivors, whose homes were wiped out, are sheltered in Suraksha centres, and daily life has begun to inch forward. Roads, nearly 80 percent of them, have been reopened, power and water restored, and communities, through individual resolve and collective effort, have cleared homes and roads, even as heaps of damaged belongings still line the roadsides. Now, as the initial dust settles, the nation stands at a critical moment: beyond recovery, it is time to confront the deeper structural weaknesses laid bare by Ditwah.

Cyclone Ditwah has emerged as a defining test for Sri Lanka, both for the newly elected NPP government, facing its first major natural disaster, and for a nation still recovering from the economic collapse of 2022 and navigating the constraints of an IMF bailout programme. The storm not only challenged the country’s disaster-response machinery but also revealed the resilience of its people, the strengths of its leadership, and the gaps that must be urgently addressed as climate-related catastrophes become increasingly frequent.

Presidential Leadership in Times of National Crisis

From the earliest hours of the cyclone’s impact, President Anura Kumara Dissanayaka took an active and visible role in directing the government machinery. His rapid mobilisation of state institutions, technical agencies, and the Armed Forces helped Sri Lanka confront a multi-layered and complex emergency that spanned damaged roads, disrupted power lines, unsafe water supplies, landslides, and widespread displacement. The administration’s coordination, during these initial hours, set the tone for what became one of the most intensive emergency-response efforts in recent years. Mobilising and coordinating government institutions solely through presidential initiative is not an ideal administrative practice. A resilient state must, instead, ensure that its institutions are structurally prepared to act seamlessly when disaster strikes, closing the systemic gaps exposed by Cyclone Ditwah.

The President’s visits to all affected districts strengthened on-the-ground coordination by bringing together district coordinating committees, public officials, political representatives, and community organisations to align relief and reconstruction with local realities, while also helping to identify bottlenecks and clarify institutional responsibilities. However, these same district-level meetings exposed serious shortcomings in disaster governance: weak inter-agency communication, unclear response mandates, gaps in early-warning systems, and uneven political leadership at the local level. In several instances, critical information failed to reach the right actors in time, and some elected representatives were slow to engage, prompting the President to direct provincial governors to personally assess landslide-prone areas—underscoring the urgent need for a more robust, integrated disaster-management framework and stronger local political participation during crises.

Cyclone Ditwah serves as a powerful reminder that Sri Lanka must prepare better, long before the next storm arrives. Effective disaster response depends not only on the commitment of the central government and security forces but also on pre-trained communities and seamless cooperation between agencies at every administrative tier. This article seeks to contribute to a constructive national conversation on the lessons learned from Cyclone Ditwah. The intention is not to assign blame but to highlight the insights necessary to build a more resilient, better-coordinated system capable of protecting lives and livelihoods in the face of future disasters.

Equally notable was the spontaneous civic mobilisation that unfolded across the country. Communities self-organised to clear debris, distribute food, assist vulnerable families, and provide temporary shelter, demonstrating a deep social solidarity that often surfaces during national crises. In many affected districts, local volunteers were the first to reach remote or isolated areas, complementing government and military operations.

Rethinking Responses to Recurrent Climate Emergencies

Sri Lanka is no stranger to weather-related disasters, and Cyclone Ditwah is neither the first nor the last event the nation will confront. Over the past decade alone, the country has endured floods, landslides, droughts, and cyclones of varying intensity. These recurring emergencies underscore an undeniable truth: climate-related shocks are now a structural part of Sri Lanka’s future, demanding a disaster-management system that is agile, integrated, and continuously updated.

After the devastation of the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami, Sri Lanka invested significant effort in building its institutional infrastructure for disaster risk reduction. Agencies were established, frameworks were drafted, and early-warning mechanisms were introduced with the hope of preventing a repeat of such a tragedy. Yet the experience of Cyclone Ditwah has revealed that many of these institutions have become moribund—functioning in isolation, following outdated protocols, and lacking the coordination needed for an effective national response. While the systems technically exist, they are not fully aligned with the mission they were created to serve. Too many agencies operate within narrowly defined mandates and fail to communicate or integrate their work with related entities. This siloed approach weakens the overall national response and limits the ability of institutions to mobilise collectively when disaster strikes.

Once again Ditwah highlighted the need for reliable early-warning system that requires constant technological upgrading. A robust interface between technology and institutional networks is essential. Advanced and accessible communication technologies—early-warning systems, mobile alerts, satellite data, and community-level dissemination platforms— should play a crucial role in transforming timely information into effective action. Timely alerts, data-sharing mechanisms, communication networks, and community-level outreach must keep pace with global standards and evolving climatic threats. The gaps observed during Cyclone Ditwah indicate that Sri Lanka’s early warning systems need stronger digital infrastructure, better interoperability, and clearer channels for dissemination to all communities, especially those in vulnerable zones. Disaster risk management cannot rely solely on community participation.

Building a Disaster Management Architecture

Sri Lanka gained independence in 1948 in the aftermath of the devastating island-wide floods in 1947. Since then, the country has repeatedly faced severe natural disasters—particularly windstorms and floods—in 1957, 1964, 1969, 1976, 1986, and 1989. Yet, despite this long and painful history, no single, dedicated institutional mechanism existed, within the state, to manage disaster-related activities, until the mid-1990s. Responsibility for disaster response remained fragmented across multiple agencies, largely operating under the broad and limited mandate of social services.

A decisive institutional shift began in 1994 with the establishment of the National Disaster Management Centre (NDMC) by President Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga, under the Ministry of Social Welfare. The NDMC was tasked with coordinating disaster preparedness, mitigation, emergency response, recovery, and long-term rehabilitation and development. It also initiated the development of a comprehensive legal and policy framework for disaster management. By 2000, the NDMC had completed draft versions of the Disaster Management Bill and the National Disaster Management Plan. However, these initiatives stalled and were never formally adopted following the change of government in 2001.

The catastrophic human, economic, and social consequences of the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami starkly exposed the limitations of this incomplete framework and underscored the urgent need for a systematic and comprehensive approach to disaster management. In response, disaster preparedness was elevated to a national priority, and on 10 February, 2005, a bipartisan Parliamentary Select Committee was appointed. Its mandate was to examine gaps in preparedness revealed by the Tsunami of 26 December, 2004, assess the absence of effective early-warning mechanisms, and recommend measures to strengthen institutional readiness and reduce the impact of future natural disasters.

The Parliamentary Select Committee met 28 times and produced a wide-ranging report within a short span, marking a decisive policy moment in Sri Lanka’s approach to disaster management. Its findings laid bare deep structural weaknesses in hazard mapping and risk assessment, preparedness, early-warning systems, mitigation, emergency response, and public awareness. Acting on these recommendations, Parliament enacted the Sri Lanka Disaster Management Act, No. 13 of 2005—finally providing a legal foundation for coordinated disaster governance.

The Disaster Management Act of 2005 brought forward significant changes in the institutional framework for disaster management. It created the National Council for Disaster Management (NCDM), a high-level political body, chaired by the President, with the Prime Minister as Vice Chair, and established the Disaster Management Centre (DMC) as the country’s lead implementing agency. The DMC was mandated to coordinate disaster risk reduction at national and sub-national levels, supported by Disaster Management Committees at district and divisional levels. A dedicated Cabinet Ministry of Disaster Management and Human Rights followed in 2006, later streamlined as the Ministry of Disaster Management in 2010. On paper, this architecture promised coherence, authority, and reach.

Parallel to the setting up of new institutional framework for disaster management, the process of disaster management policy planning and policy formulation has taken a new turn. ‘The Disaster Management Policy of 2010’, prepared by DMC, in 2010, was adopted as the main policy line for disaster management. Furthermore, DMC developed ‘The National Disaster Management Plan of 2013-2017’(NDMP) in 2014 as the overall guiding document covering intended activities of the major phases–mitigation, preparedness, emergency operations and post disaster activities, such as relief, recovery and reconstruction. Training, public awareness and education are also covered in the above phases. It envisaged a multi-sector approach in which involvement of NGOs and CBOs are expected to translate policies into tangible action. Further, in 2014, NCDM approved the Sri Lanka Comprehensive Disaster Management Programme (SLCDMP) for 2014-2018 to reduce disaster and climate risks by minimising impacts on people, properties, and the economy. SLCDMP also presented a comprehensive roadmap to improve capacity of local level operators by institutionalising local level support in its planning. It was prepared by the National Disaster Management Coordinating Committee (NDMCC), a multi-stakeholder national platform, established in November 2007 who also plays a key role in implementing disaster risk reduction strategies in the country. This is a clear manifestation of confusion and duplication of disaster management work.

Technological and informational capacities improved with the establishment of a Disaster Information System in 2008, supported by UNDP, and the gradual rollout of nationwide early-warning systems. Responsibility for hazard monitoring was formally vested in the Meteorological Department and the Geological Survey and Mines Bureau, operating through the Disaster Management Centre’s Emergency Operations Centre. While these developments marked genuine progress, their effectiveness has remained uneven in practice. International partners, such as UNDP, have produced extensive analyses and recommendations, but ultimate responsibility of implementation rests with domestic institutions. The core problem lies not in the absence of information, but in weak implementation, limited inter-agency cooperation, and persistent administrative inaction.

Fragmented Institutions and the Cost of Poor Coordination

At the heart of these shortcomings are deeper features of Sri Lanka’s political and administrative culture. Disaster management has frequently been treated as a politically advantageous domain—offering visibility and access to state resources—resulting in its fragmentation across multiple ministries and agencies. This dispersion undermines integrated planning, weakens accountability, and hampers coordination precisely when speed and clarity are most critical. The consequences of inadequate preparedness, poor inter-agency coordination, and inconsistent public messaging have repeatedly emerged during major crises. This was evident in the MV X-Press Pearl disaster in May 2021, where information on hazardous cargo damage was not shared across agencies. Similarly, the lack of inter-agency communication was a prominent issue during Cyclone Ditwah in December 2025.

Technological and informational capacities improved with the establishment of a Disaster Information System in 2008, supported by UNDP, and the gradual rollout of nationwide early-warning systems. Responsibility for hazard monitoring was formally vested in the Meteorological Department and the Geological Survey and Mines Bureau, operating through the Disaster Management Centre’s Emergency Operations Centre. However, their effectiveness has remained uneven in practice.

International partners, such as UNDP and other multi-lateral agencies, have produced extensive analyses and recommendations, but ultimate responsibility of implementation rests with domestic institutions. The core problem lies not in the absence of information and recommendations , but in weak implementation, limited inter-agency cooperation, and persistent administrative inaction.

NGOs: Critical Actors with Structural Limits

Another critical dimension of Sri Lanka’s disaster-management landscape is the prominent role played by non-governmental organisations (NGOs) and, to a lesser extent, private-sector institutions across almost every phase of the disaster-management cycle. Their contribution is especially visible at the community level, where state reach is often limited. It is, however, important to distinguish between spontaneous voluntary community action and the more structured, project-driven modes of operation, typical of NGOs. This distinction does not diminish the importance of NGOs; rather, it helps clarify both their strengths and their limitations within a national disaster-management framework.

NGO engagement is particularly valuable in Community-Based Disaster Risk Management (CBDRM), where sustained local participation is essential. Through CBDRM initiatives, NGOs help Disaster-Risk Communities identify, analyse, and monitor risks, develop locally appropriate mitigation strategies, and strengthen coping capacities. Many international humanitarian organisations coordinate their work through the UN Humanitarian Country Team, while several local initiatives demonstrate the transformative potential of community-centred action. The Community Tsunami Early-Warning Centre (CTEC) in Peraliya, established with the support of two foreign donors and a Sri Lankan medical doctor, is a notable example. Equipped with round-the-clock internet-linked computers receiving real-time alerts from the US Geological Survey, CTEC has built a network of 30 focal points across the Galle District, each comprising 10 village representatives—illustrating how informed communities can play a frontline role in risk mitigation.

The Sarvodaya Community Disaster Risk Management Centre in Moratuwa further underscores the constructive role NGOs can play. Sarvodaya has worked to establish disaster-management committees linked with government district-level officers, strengthening coordination between communities and the state. In partnership with LIRNEasia, it has also developed early-warning systems designed to deliver alerts directly to households. With more than 50,000 community-based organisations, Sri Lanka possesses a potentially powerful grassroots network capable of making a decisive impact on disaster preparedness, response, and recovery. These organisations have been tasked with identifying vulnerable groups within their communities and ensuring their protection during emergencies—a role they performed actively in the aftermath of the 2004 Tsunami.

Yet, despite this potential, Sri Lankan NGOs, as a sector, suffer from persistent structural weaknesses. Many remain heavily dependent on international donor funding and tend to become inactive once external financing diminishes. Over time, this has led to cycles of intense activity during high-profile disasters, followed by organisational stagnation and decline. Unless NGO engagement is better integrated into long-term national planning, supported by stronger domestic institutional linkages and sustainable funding mechanisms, their contribution will remain episodic rather than transformative.

Early Warning Systems: From Forecasting to Community Action

The recent experience of Cyclone Ditwah has once again underscored the critical importance of effective early warning systems in mitigating the impact of natural disasters. Sri Lanka’s vulnerability to such events was starkly evident during the 2004 Indian Ocean Tsunami. The first tsunami waves hit the eastern coast of Sri Lanka at approximately 6.40 a.m. on 26th December, about one hour and forty minutes after the earthquake. A secondary wave struck approximately 20 minutes later. The western coastal area was hit by the tsunami waves much later. The tsunami hit the southern coastal city of Hambantota at about 9.10 a.m. and Peraliya on the south-western coast, where the train tragedy took place, at 10.10 a.m., three and a half hours after the first wave, the tsunami hit the eastern coast of Sri Lanka. If an emergency disaster early-warning communication system were in place, at least a part of the human disaster on the Western coast could have been avoided. More than two decades later, Ditwah revealed that preparedness remains inadequate, and simply issuing statements from government agencies is insufficient. Early warnings must be actively communicated to communities, accompanied by clear action plans implemented by relevant authorities, to ensure people are informed, prepared, and able to respond effectively to impending disasters.

A landslide

Cultural and Ethnic Sensitivity in Disaster Response

One of the most important lessons highlighted by Cyclone Ditwah is the critical need for inclusivity and sensitivity in a multi-ethnic, post-conflict society like Sri Lanka. Emerging from the ashes of a devastating ethnic conflict, the country must ensure that national unity and ethnic harmony remain central to every policy and action, especially during crises. Ditwah revealed that some state institutions are not yet fully equipped to operate effectively in a multi-ethnic, multi-linguistic environment. Crucial notices and statements were, at times, released solely in Sinhala, in violation of the language policy enshrined in the Constitution. While practical administrative challenges may exist, it is the responsibility of political leadership to ensure that these requirements are addressed proactively. When vital information fails to reach communities in their own languages during emergencies, those communities would experience alienation and discrimination, with potentially grave consequences. In a multi-ethnic, post-conflict society, sensitivity to ethno-political dynamics is not optional—it is imperative across all phases of disaster management: preparedness, emergency response, and post-disaster recovery.

The real challenge begins now, and Sri Lanka cannot afford complacency. Resettling displaced and vulnerable communities is a formidable task that demands more than community goodwill—government institutions must bear the brunt of these responsibilities. Piles of spoiled food and debris left unattended in cities can quickly create serious public health hazards, underscoring the need for swift and organised action. With the North-Eastern Monsoon approaching, the country must be prepared for any eventuality.

Foreign Humanitarian Assistance and Its Geopolitical Dimensions

Sri Lanka did not stand alone in the wake of Ditwah. The country received substantial international assistance—not only in emergency humanitarian relief, but also in expertise, equipment, and resources for recovery and reconstruction. This support reflects the goodwill Sri Lanka continues to command globally, while also underscoring the need for credible and efficient domestic systems capable of coordinating effectively with foreign partners. At the same time, emergency relief is never geopolitically neutral. Sri Lanka must therefore approach foreign disaster assistance with a clear understanding of its national interests—without retreating into a besieged mentality. Instead, the challenge is to manage geopolitical competition to our advantage through an approach of omni-enmeshment: engaging all major powers simultaneously through dense networks of cooperation, institutions, and partnerships, creating mutual stakes and reducing the likelihood of strategic pressure or conflict.

Rethinking Development Strategies under Climate Stress

Beyond immediate relief, Cyclone Ditwah forces us to rethink the development model we are pursuing. Decades of deforestation and unplanned urban expansion have amplified the country’s vulnerability: between 1990 and 2010, Sri Lanka lost an average of 24,500 hectares of forest per year, totaling nearly 21 percent of its forest cover (Sri Lanka Forest Information and Data, The Rainforest S.). Forests once absorbed and regulated rainwater, but their loss has accelerated floods, triggered landslides, and intensified droughts, while impervious urban surfaces exacerbate flash flooding. The country is now paying the price for these environmental and planning failures, making comprehensive, forward-looking strategies a matter of urgent necessity.

Lessons from Ditwah and the Path Forward

Cyclone Ditwah is more than a weather event—it is a wake-up call that Sri Lanka must strengthen its resilience against future disasters. Fragmented responsibility, weak inter-agency coordination, and inconsistent communication are vulnerabilities that put lives and livelihoods at risk. We are compelled to face the challenges posed by extreme weather events repeatedly in the future. Learning and applying the lessons of Cyclone Ditwah is crucial for political leaders, state institutions, NGOs, and communities alike. Only by building a culture of preparedness, accountability, and coordination can the nation shift crisis response from reactive improvisation to proactive, life-saving action.

Prof. Gamini Kerawella can be accessed through keerawellag@gmail.com

by Prof. Gamini Keerawella



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Combining local resources,traditional knowledge and science to build a food-secure Sri Lanka

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World Food Day 2026: Innovating today for a better food future

by Dr. Kaushalya Wijayasekara

What will be on the Sri Lankan dinner table ten years from now? Will our children be able to get nutritious food at a price their families can afford? Will farmers be able to grow enough despite changing weather and rising costs? And how much of the food we produce will actually reach the consumer, instead of being lost or wasted along the way?

These questions can’t wait. A farmer faces unpredictable weather. A family faces rising food costs. Fruit goes unsold after a good harvest. Some children do not get enough nutrition. The future of food is tied to the future of Sri Lanka itself.

World Food Day 2026 is a chance to look beyond the immediate problems and ask whether we can build a food system that feeds our people well, gives farmers better opportunities, protects the environment and makes better use of what we already have. The answer can be yes, but we will have to think differently.

We are not starting from zero. Sri Lanka has diverse crops, fisheries, traditional food knowledge, indigenous varieties, research institutions, universities and a young generation able to create new solutions. What we need is to bring these together and act. Producing more will not secure our food future on its own. It will depend on how intelligently we produce, process, preserve, distribute and consume food.

Making more of what we already have

Innovation does not always mean inventing something new. Often it means finding better uses for the resources we have.

Sri Lanka grows traditional rice varieties, kurakkan, green gram, cowpea, jackfruit, breadfruit, cassava, sweet potato, coconut and palmyrah. All of them have great potential for modern, nutritious, value-added foods. Jackfruit and breadfruit can be made into flour and other convenient products. Traditional rice varieties can go into new foods that suit changing consumer needs. Palmyrah, with its strong cultural heritage, can create new income through better processing, packaging, quality assurance and market development.

The aim is to connect our traditional food knowledge with modern consumer needs and technology, while keeping our food heritage.

Stop wasting the food we produce

Reducing food loss and waste should be a major priority. Seasonal fruits such as mango, banana, papaya and pineapple can be lost in large quantities when production exceeds demand or when storage, transport and processing facilities are inadequate. With suitable technology, these fruits can become dried products, pulps, powders, beverages and other shelf-stable foods.

Agricultural and fisheries by-products are resources too. They could be turned into food ingredients, animal feed, bio-based products and other useful materials, which would move us toward a more circular food economy.

Technology alone is not enough. We need stronger local processing facilities, cold storage, efficient transport, collection centres and market information systems, especially close to where food is produced. Cutting food loss raises the value of what our farmers and fishers already produce.

Nutrition and food safety come first

Food security means more than having enough food. People also need food that is safe and nutritious.

Sri Lanka can develop affordable, nutritious foods from local pulses, grains, vegetables, fruits and fish. Children and other vulnerable groups should get particular attention. Schoolchildren in particular deserve a focus: safe, nutritious, locally sourced products for school feeding programs would support child nutrition, local farmers and domestic food industries at the same time.

Food safety must stay at the centre of food innovation. Good hygiene, quality control, laboratory testing, traceability and appropriate food safety systems are what make new products safe as well as attractive and nutritious.

A food system that can cope with climate change

Climate change is already affecting agricultural production, water availability, crop yields and food prices. We need food systems that can handle changing conditions. That means climate-resilient crops, efficient water use, soil and water conservation, better storage and resource-efficient food processing.

Traditional knowledge matters here. Generations of Sri Lankan farmers have developed practices suited to local climates and ecosystems. Combining that experience with modern science can give us solutions that fit local conditions and are sustainable. Technology alone will not build the future of food. Science, experience and local knowledge together can.

Give young people a bigger role

Sri Lanka’s universities have an important part to play in shaping our food future. Young people should be encouraged to identify real problems in the food system and work on practical solutions in areas such as food waste, sustainable packaging, nutrition, food safety, modernising traditional foods and digital technologies.

A good research project should not always end as a research paper. Where appropriate, research should be supported to move on to products, technologies, enterprises and community solutions. That needs stronger partnerships between universities and industry, along with mentoring, research funding, business support and market connections. If young researchers and entrepreneurs can turn their ideas into viable food innovations, both consumers and producers will benefit.

A pathway designed for Sri Lanka

We do not need to copy food-system models from other countries. We can build a pathway that suits our own resources, culture and needs. It would bring together local resources, traditional knowledge, scientific research, appropriate technology and entrepreneurship, with farmers, fishers, universities, research institutions, food industries, entrepreneurs and policymakers working side by side.

The goal goes beyond selling raw materials. We need to create more value, reduce waste, improve nutrition, generate jobs and strengthen rural livelihoods. This matters especially for small and medium-scale food enterprises, which can drive local economic development when they get the right technical, financial and market support.

The choices we make today

The food future will not create itself. It will be shaped by what we grow, what we research, what we process, what we consume and what we choose not to waste.

So, the question for World Food Day 2026 is this: what can we do today so that every Sri Lankan has safe, nutritious, affordable and sustainable food tomorrow?

The answers are already around us, in our farms, fisheries, food businesses, universities, laboratories and communities. We have the resources, the traditional knowledge, the scientific expertise and talented young people. What we need now is to connect them and act.

A better food future begins with the choices we make today.

Dr. Kaushalya Wijayasekara

Senior Lecturer, Department of Biosystems Technology, Faculty of Technology, University of Ruhuna

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20th Anniversary of Digampathana blast – the day Sri Lanka Navy cried

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Aftermath of the terror attack

By Admiral Ravindra C Wijegunaratne
WV, RWP and Bar, RSP, VSV, USP, NI (M) (Pakistan), ndc, psn, Bsc
(Hons) (War Studies) (Karachi) MPhil (Madras)
Former Navy Commander and Former Chief of Defence Staff
Former Chairman, Trincomalee Petroleum Terminals Ltd
Former Managing Director Ceylon Petroleum Corporation
Former High Commissioner to Pakistan

The Digampathana suicide truck attack on 16th October 2006 remains the deadliest single strike in Sri Lanka Navy history, leaving scars that time cannot erase.

It was a seemingly ordinary Monday morning on 16 October 2006, but the calm of that day would soon be shattered in a way none of us could have imagined. As the Commandant of the Naval and Maritime Academy and Flag Officer Commanding Naval Fleet at Trincomalee, I was aware that a number of my cadets were travelling that morning, part of a convoy of fifteen buses carrying naval personnel from Trincomalee, Colombo, and other bases, heading toward Dambulla to rendezvous with another group. The convoy also included trucks and escort vehicles, a routine movement planned and coordinated with the army to ensure the roads were clear. The morning started quietly. Some personnel greeted friends, handed over their weapons, or strolled to a nearby tea shop. It all seemed so ordinary—too ordinary for what would come next.

Sri Lanka Navy sunk LTTE Ships carrying arms, ammunition and warlike materials thousand miles away from Sri Lanka in Indian Ocean in September and October 2007.

By late morning, both convoys had reached the small ground at Digampathana, near the Sigiriya junction, and personnel mingled briefly, unaware that a carefully orchestrated act of terror was waiting. Then, suddenly, an empty half-truck veered directly into the convoy. It exploded with a ferocity I can still recall as if it were yesterday. Nuts, bolts, and high explosives tore through the air. Pandemonium erupted instantly. I later learned that 107 of our naval personnel were killed on the spot and another 153 critically injured. The scene was indescribable—bodies scattered, vehicles mangled, personal effects strewn across the ground. I remember later hearing that the head of the suicide bomber was recovered more than 100 meters away from the blast, a grim testament to the sheer force of the explosion.

I was in my office at the Naval and Maritime Academy when my mobile phone rang. A young midshipman from the 21st intake called, his voice trembling: “Sir, there was a huge explosion at the convoy point! Many are dead … my batch mate Wijesundara is among them.” I immediately jumped into my jeep with my escort Chief Petty Officer and driver and rushed to Digampathana, relying on every ounce of my driving skill to reach the scene. The journey, which usually took little more than an hour, felt endless that day, each passing mile weighed down by dread.

When I arrived, I was confronted with a sight that no training can prepare you for. The injured were being rushed to Dambulla Hospital, where doctors and nurses worked tirelessly, improvising in ways that saved lives despite the overwhelming chaos. I went back to the site after visiting the hospital. The remains of our naval personnel were scattered across the ground, and someone had begun collecting weapons and protective gear. I immediately contacted Surgeon Rear Admiral Nico Jayasekara and received his instructions: collect all body parts in separate bags and transport them to the Trincomalee Naval Hospital mortuary. This gruesome work had to be done with care and dignity, and it filled the icebox in my vehicle. Through DNA testing initiated by Rear Admiral Nico, we were able to identify every naval personnel lost that day, bringing some closure to grieving families.

The Navy Commander at the time, Vice Admiral Wasantha Karannagoda, was devastated. I had worked closely with him and knew how deeply he cared for his men. He ensured that the fallen were honoured with full ceremonial naval funerals at Welisara Naval Base, attended by families and comrades. Sixty-seven funerals were conducted in a single day—a number that still haunts me.

The Digampathana attack remains the largest single loss of naval life in our history. It was a day of sorrow, but also a day that reinforced our resolve. The tragedy galvanized the Navy to target the LTTE Sea Tiger wing with renewed determination and reshaped our maritime operations forever. Every time I think of that day, I remember not just the lives lost, but the courage, professionalism, and dedication of those who survived, those who treated the injured, and those who ensured the fallen were honored properly. May the souls of our naval hero’s rest in peace, their sacrifice guiding us and inspiring generations of naval personnel to come.

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‘Murder at Whitby Abbey’

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Tales of Mystery and Suspense – 24

I was intrigued by the title of a book I found in a book drop at the condominium of a friend, Murder at Whitby Abbey, and I brought it home with me though I will not be able to return it in the near future. It was described on the cover page as ‘a standout in the crowded medieval mystery field’, though I fear I do not know of other books in this field, apart from the Cadfael series, which I have dealt with earlier.

The book, by Cassandra Clark, is set during the reign of Richard II and has as a backdrop his precarious position, which led to his being replaced, and murdered, by his cousin Henry, who reigned as Henry IV. It is a gloomy book, the action taking place in the twelve days of Christmas leading up to the Epiphany. And the gloom is pervasive, even though this is supposed to be a time of festivity, with mummers performing, and many of those in the guest house where the heroine stays going to town to enjoy themselves, with much drinking and much music, which also fills the guesthouse.

The heroine Hildegarde is a nun, sent to try to acquire a relic being sold by Whitby Abbey, though this was also a penance set by the Abbot of the monastery that governed her abbess because she had had sex with a man. Soon after she and her companions reach the Abbey set high on a cliff, she finds that there are other bidders, and soon suspects that the hierarchy, not perhaps the Abbot who seems a weakling, but his rapacious bursar, is determined to make money, and not above creating false relics to sell to several aspirants.

After Hildegarde and her Cistercian companions – Whitby is a Benedictine Foundation – two monks, Gregory and Egbert, and a young priest Mark, reach the abbey, they find that Aelwyn, a monk they had met on their way to the guesthouse had died. This was in the apple store, and they realize, when they find the surplices of novices stuffed into the air vents, that he had been left to suffocate in the overwhelming scent of apples.

Clark

The Cistercians are asked to look into the death, perhaps because they are likely to get no cooperation from the Abbey folk, but perhaps because those in charge are keen to know what happened. And the infirmarer, an old monk, suggests Hildegarde talk to a man called Edred who worked for the bursar, and had been a friend of Aelwyn’s. But Edred too is killed, before he can keep an appointment he had made with Hildegarde, drowned in a pool near the farmhouse of the Abbey.

Meanwhile tensions arise between the fisherfolk and the abbey for the bursar wants to charge them for using the beach that technically belongs to the abbey to dry their fish and their nets. This leads to physical battles, when the guards used by the abbey, under the command it seems of the bursar whose determination to make money is not resisted by the abbot and the prior, try to storm the area where the fishermen live.

Hildegard finds out more about what had happened through two youngsters, one of whom Torold is the son of Aelwyn by a woman who worked as a prostitute for a cartel, and with whom Mark fell in love. The other works on the farm and had seen Edred meet someone near the pool, after which that someone left the place by himself. And the boy had also found in the pool a sort of dagger with the seal of the abbey.

He and his dog, and Torold who follows her, rescue Hildegarde from a man at arms who has waylaid her and tries to rape her earlier. Escaping into the abbey she was nearly been raped then by the bursar, but she managed to escape, in the process setting fire to him and the muniments room, which led, when he was rescued, to the discovery of a box with the money he said had been stolen, blame being cast on both Aelwyn and Edred.

Matters come to a head when the fisherfolk try to storm the abbey, being resisted by the men at arms stationed on the towers. But then Hildegarde realizes that behind the murders was the bursar’s clerk, whom she pursued to the cathedral. There is great drama then as she escapes from him when he tries to kill her, and then from the man at arms who had tried to both rape and kill her, but they both fall from the scaffolding she had climbed, the latter coming from a tower where he had been stationed.

Both of them think they run the rapacity of the abbey, the latter claiming to work for the nobles opposed to Richard, who is presented throughout the book as devoted to his subjects, not to power or money. But though the villains die, the bursar continues, having got over the hysteria the fire had caused and his acknowledgment then of guilt – and though the abbot and the prior seem less vicious, whether they will be able to assert themselves is questionable.

Before the climax, when the others in the guesthouse were leaving, Hildegarde found that two of them were in possession of the relic, for which they seem to have paid well. Hildegarde herself had made a derisory offer, but before she leaves the abbot gives her the relic, perhaps in gratitude for what she and her fellow Cistercians had discovered, the abbey having made as much money as it needed and more from the gullible other buyers.

Mark’s inamorata is saved from the stews because she moves in with Edred’s widow whom the bursar had thrown out of the rooms he occupied when her husband was found dead. Hildegarde had paid for lodgings, in a house run by the man who ran the brothels, but he had a kindly side and was going to finance them to make nets for the fishermen.

So, the Cistercians set off for their home as swiftly as they can to get there on the day of the Epiphany, having stopped en route to pray for King Richard whose birthday it was.

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