Features

More on jungle treks: Lahugala and bold leopards

Published

4 years ago

2022/02/13

Sahan Weerasooriya

BY H A I Katugaha

(Continued from last week)

One morning in the 1950’s we had gone across into Yala Block 2 and our destination was Walaskema in search of the famous crossed tusker, so named because of the crossing of the tusks in front. We had Block 2 all to ourselves. Parking the jeep, we began our walk to Walaskema. There were four of us in the party, namely Uncle Sam, Upali, our tracker and myself.

We saw a leopard sitting under a tree. He got up and started walking towards us. This was most unusual. We shouted at him but he took no notice at all. He growled at us and kept getting closer. Shouting at him we walked backwards and even threw stones at him. One thrown by the tracker hit him on his head, but he kept on coming.

Having reached the jeep, Upali raced the engine and sped towards him. The leopard then ran off into the jungle. Leopards usually run off at the sight of man, and the difficulty is to get close to one. Uncle Sam was of the opinion that this one may well have been used to humans since the Kataragama pilgrims passed this way every year. Maybe he even had a taste of human flesh by eating the corpse of a pilgrim that had died during the walk across Kumbukkan Oya to Menik Ganga. It was a large male animal in the prime of his life.

We reached Walaskema, which was a water-hole, and though we waited till evening the famous tusker did not come to drink water. On our way back we did see a herd of elephants across the Pilinnawa plains.

Years later while camping out at Kosgasmankada in Yala Block 1, one night I noticed some movement under one of the lanterns that we had hung around the camp to keep animals away. Using my torch I discovered that it was a leopard that sat right under the lantern and watched our camp. Soon several torches were focused on it and we had a good look at this fine male leopard. One member of our party then turned the vehicle and put on the headlights. There he was in all his glory watching us with apparent delight.

Next morning we reported this unusual behavior to the park office and were told that this was a bold leopard that had even attacked a labourer attached to the department while walking along at the campsite. The rule is that a leopard will run off at the sight of man unless man has wounded him. It is always best to remember that there are exceptions to every rule.

Land of the gentle giants

At dawn, in the early 1960’s, I lay stretched out on a mat in the verandah of the old Irrigation Department bungalow at Lahugala. A regular swish-swish close by informed me that an elephant, perhaps two, were feeding on the luscious beru grass close to the sluice. It was still very dark. The first vocalists for the morning were a pair of magpies. Their whistling calls were welcome indeed. Next a shama gave vent to his repertoire of vocal renderings. Then the pair of brown fish owls that was always to be found near the sluice finished their serenade with a short burst of hoo hoo.

As darkness gave way to light that misty morning, I watched the dark shape of an elephant slowly moving up to the rock in front of the bungalow. He stood still, probably enjoying the cool breeze that was blowing across the tank. After about 15 minutes he came down and walked towards the well.

Sammy, the Department’s watcher at the bungalow, kindly brought me a hot cup of tea and whispered, “Sir, be careful when you go for a wash, there is an elephant by the well.” I thanked him for his concern.

By the time my friends and I finished our tea, the elephant left the well and moved off into the jungle to our right. We could now see that there were two elephants feeding by the sluice. About 7 am they slowly walked up the bend of the tank and faded away to the left of us.

Across the tank, felled logs of the majestic trees that they once were, stood out in the early morning sun. It happened to be the depot of the State Timber Corporation and quite an eyesore in such a wonderful setting. Birds that were resting by the tank, such as painted storks, pelicans, teal, open-billed storks and a few white-necked storks, took off to look for breakfast. Four adjutant storks began their stately walk in search of food.

It was a typical morning at Lahugala. As we walked up to the rock a solitary pied kingfisher hovered momentarily, dived and came up with a fish. He flew to his perch, flicked the fish up and expertly swallowed it head first. The purple herons and the coots were active in the grass, while the beautiful jacanas were flitting over the lotus leaves looking for food.

Lahugala was then only a forest reserve and not a national park. The tank was managed by the Irrigation Department and Sammy was its watcher that looked after the sluice. Later Lahugala became an elephant reserve. Elephants were the chief attraction and they were to be seen throughout the year, but during the dry season from July to September, they congregated in large numbers. During this period, the herds gathered here for water and for the beru grass that they loved so much. There was always a resident population of elephants numbering about twenty. It was not till the 1970’s that it finally became a national park. Though it was only five square miles in extent it was a haven for elephants.

That morning we got on our scooters and went to the village for breakfast. Coming back for a bath in the tank was always refreshing. Our lunch over we did have a short snooze, leaving Sammy on the lookout for elephants, It was not till 2 pm that the elephants began to come to the tank. The first to arrive were solitary bulls, six of whom arrived from different spots and waded into the tank. That evening the herds came late, and by 5.30 pm there were over 50 elephants out in the tank. Depending on where the herds were, we walked up to the nearest tree and observed them, feeling quite safe. (Walking in the park was allowed in those days.)

One afternoon, Mr.Peter Jayawardena, who was the Wildlife Department’s ranger stationed at Lahugala, took us for a walk along the bund. Hearing a noise he led us into the jungle. There in a clearing were three elephants lying flat and sleeping. The noise that we heard was their snoring. They were soon joined by another that came up to them, laid himself down and then slept. After a while Mr. Jayawardena clapped. The four elephants were up instantly and crashed away into the jungle. It was amazing to see such large animals get up and run so quickly. The jungle was soon silent.

At the time Lahugala was an elephant reserve, and the Wildlife and Nature Protection Society took the Irrigation Department’s old Bungalow on lease. It was renovated and made comfortable. The late Mr. Noel de Costa was responsible for getting the place into a satisfactory condition. Thereafter we were able to book the bungalow and stay in it in comfort. We had only to take our food and bedding with us.

During those days it was a common sight to see people walk into the jungle with guns and many dogs at their heel. Gunshots were heard every night. Venison was freely available at the bazaar. Poaching was rampant.

It has been my good fortune to see two leopards at Lahugala. One was on the road leading to the bungalow late one evening when we were returning from Kithulana. The other walked past the bungalow one night just as we were about to retire for the night, A bear came along the road one night and hooted, and we watched him by moonlight. Had he not made a sound we would never have seen him. Deer and wild boar were not seen in those early days, and no doubt poaching was responsible for this scarcity. Every night we heard gunshots..

Lahugala has always been a bird watcher’s paradise. The tank is a fine rendezvous for storks, herons, waders, and other water birds. The surrounding jungle abounds with birds. A pair of grey-headed fishing eagles had a nest on a tall tree close to the sluice. They carefully tended their nest every year. A pair of brown fish owls nested close by. Many raptorials were seen over the tank at all times. I have seen one black-necked stork in the 1970’s and several adjutant storks. The thrill was to spot the beautiful red-faced malkoha or the racquet-tailed drongo. On a short walk along the track leading to Heda Oya, one would invariably see the red-faced malkoha. In fact we named it Malkoha Lane. It was not uncommon to see them in groups of four to six.

It was during the time I was at Badulla that I was able to really explore Lahugala and its surroundings. One afternoon there were two bull elephants feeding by the sluice. Getting close to them, keeping behind the bund, I took photographs, but one of them suddenly charged. He could not have seen me and the wind was in my favour. I ducked down on the blind side of the bund and lay flat among some large granite blocks that were thankfully there. The bull elephant came up the bund and to my relief ran along it. Had I run in panic on that day I would not be writing this article.

I picked up my field glasses and went back to see what his problem was, this time from a very safe distance. He had suppurating gunshot wounds on both his hind legs, and his left ear was torn. Many other swellings on his body and head only proved how many times he had been shot at. Naturally he hated man. I informed the Wildlife and Nature Protection Society of this troublesome bull elephant, so that they could inform other occupants who came to this place to be careful of this animal.

Several months later I was at Lahugala with my family. Late one evening we met the elephant on the main road. A herd was feeding below the culvert and he was coming along to join the group. I was able to take a picture of him as he was crossing the culvert. While we were watching the herd I noticed that he was quickly moving parallel to us. and was trying to come in front of us. We moved ahead and waited for him. Sure enough he came to the road and immediately charged us. This time we were in a jeep and had no difficulty in avoiding his aggressive behaviour. He charged us three times on that day.

This bull elephant became quite a menace. He would wait quietly by the road and suddenly charge at any passing vehicle. Buses were his favourite targets. Three months later I was informed that he was shot. I drove down to verify if it was the same animal. It was truly the same troublesome bull, which was shot and had fallen in a chena close to Kithulana Tank. Birds were picking up dead maggots from his wounds. He had 23 wounds on the left side of his body and eight on his head. Finally he was at rest.

Lahugala was next declared a national park. The area began to be patrolled and it was at last getting the protection that it so richly deserved. It was in the late 1970’s that I saw the first herd of deer come out to feed. Wild boar soon made their presence felt.

One morning while I was seated on the rock, I met Appuhamy who came with a katty (a cutting blade with a long handle) on his ample shoulder. Having heard that I had come all the way to watch elephants, he took me to his chena, which was close to the Sengamuwa tank. To my horror I saw that his entire chena was devastated, having been trampled by a large number of elephants that had passed through. All his labour was lost in one night.

“You will see them at Lahugala today.” he said sadly. I gave him most of the cash I had with me and asked him about compensation. “Sir, I will get my money but I will have to give bribes in return; otherwise it will take months, perhaps even a year.” It is one thing for us to talk of conservation of the elephant from our homes and offices; while it is quite another matter for the poor cultivator. I told him it was a known fact that elephants come to Lahugala during that time of the year.

“True Sir, I would have harvested my crop by now, but the rains were delayed and so I planted late.” As I sat on the rock that evening and watched elephants pouring out of the jungle to my right, Appuhamy’s saying that I would see elephants at Lahugala that day kept ringing in my ears. As many as 186 elephants with four tuskers came to the tank. A herd of over a hundred elephants would have walked across his cultivation.

The conditions at the park improved rapidly, thanks to a dedicated staff that was stationed there. Being a small park it was easy to patrol. Poaching decreased. We began to see small herds of deer grazing close to the tank. I even saw a few sambhur.

There are many places of historical interest that one could visit while staying at Lahugala. One such place is Habutagala, where many ancient ruins, which include a forty-foot reclining statue of Lord Buddha in a cave, are found. Treasure hunters have dug into the statue. There is a small dagoba and several pillars to be seen. The most interesting features are Lord Buddha’s footprint carved in stone and an ancient stone inscription. These ruins belong to the Ruhunu period. Northern terrorists have attacked the village of Hulanuge twice.

Magul Maha Viharaya too is worthy of a visit. Situated close to Lahugala bazaar, it has several stone pillars and foundations. During the 1970’s, a unique moonstone was unearthed at this spot. It was in a fine state of preservation. Four of the elephants in the row of these animals carved on stone were dressed and had a rider on each. No other moonstone yet discovered anywhere in the country had this feature. Here again we find a small dagoba, a shrine room and a foundation of some structure with beautifully carved lions round its base.

Features

When water becomes the weapon

Published

21 hours ago

2025/12/17

Sahan Weerasooriya

On the morning of November 28, 2025, Cyclone Ditwah made an unremarkable entrance, meteorologically speaking. With winds barely scraping 75 km/h, it was classified as merely a “Cyclonic Storm” by the India Meteorological Department. No dramatic satellite spiral. No apocalyptic wind speeds. Just a modest weather system forming unusually close to the equator, south of Sri Lanka.

By December’s second week, the numbers told a story of national reckoning: over 650 lives lost, 2.3 million people affected, roughly one in ten Sri Lankans, and economic losses estimated between $6-7 billion. To put that in perspective, the damage bill equals roughly 3-5% of the country’s entire GDP, exceeding the combined annual budgets for healthcare and education. It became Sri Lanka’s deadliest natural disaster since the 2004 tsunami.

The Hydrology of Horror

The answer lies not in wind speed but in water volume. In just 24 hours on 28 November, hydrologists estimate that approximately 13 billion cubic meters of rain fell across Sri Lanka, roughly 10% of the island’s average annual rainfall compressed into a single day. Some areas recorded over 300-400mm in that period. To visualise the scale: the discharge rate approached 150,000 cubic meters per second, comparable to the Amazon River at peak flow, but concentrated on an island 100 times smaller than the Amazon basin.

The soil, already saturated from previous monsoon rains, couldn’t absorb this deluge. Nearly everything ran off. The Kelani, Mahaweli, and Deduru Oya river systems overflowed simultaneously. Reservoirs like Kala Wewa and Rajanganaya had to release massive volumes to prevent catastrophic dam failures, which only accelerated downstream flooding.

Where Development Met Disaster

The human toll concentrated in two distinct geographies, each revealing different failures.

In the Central Highlands, Kandy, Badulla, Nuwara Eliya, Matale, landslides became the primary killer. The National Building Research Organisation documented over 1,200 landslides in the first week alone, with 60% in the hill country. These weren’t random geological events; they were the culmination of decades of environmental degradation. Colonial-era tea and rubber plantations stripped highland forests, increasing soil erosion and landslide susceptibility. Today, deforestation continues alongside unregulated hillside construction that ignores slope stability.

The communities most vulnerable? The Malaiyaha Tamil plantation workers, descendants of indentured labourers brought from South India by the British. Living in cramped “line rooms” on remote estates, they faced both the highest mortality rates and the greatest difficulty accessing rescue services. Many settlements remained cut off for days.

Meanwhile, in the Western Province urban basin, Colombo, Gampaha, Kolonnawa, the Kelani River’s overflow displaced hundreds of thousands. Kolonnawa, where approximately 70% of the area sits below sea level, became an inland sea. Urban planning failures compounded the crisis: wetlands filled in for development, drainage systems inadequate for changing rainfall patterns, and encroachments on flood retention areas all transformed what should have been manageable flooding into mass displacement.

The Economic Aftershock

By 03 December, when the cyclone had degraded to a remnant low, the physical damage inventory read like a national infrastructure audit gone catastrophic:

UNDP’s geospatial analysis revealed exposure: about 720,000 buildings, 16,000 km of roads, 278 km of rail, and 480 bridges in flooded zones. This represents infrastructure that underpins the daily functioning of 82-84% of the national economy.

The agricultural sector faces multi-season impacts. The cyclone struck during the Maha season, Sri Lanka’s major cultivation period, when approximately 563,950 hectares had just been sown. Government data confirms 108,000 hectares of rice paddies destroyed, 11,000 hectares of other field crops lost, and 6,143 hectares of vegetables wiped out. The tea industry, while less damaged than food crops, projects a 35% output decline, threatening $1.29 billion in annual export revenue.

Supply chains broke. Cold storage facilities failed. Food prices spiked in urban markets, hitting hardest the rural households that produce the food, communities where poverty rates had already doubled to 25% following the recent economic crisis.

The Hidden Costs: Externalities

Yet the most consequential damage doesn’t appear in economic loss estimates. These are what economists call externalities, costs that elude conventional accounting but compound human suffering.

Environmental externalities : Over 1,900 landslides in protected landscapes like the Knuckles Range uprooted forest canopies, buried understory vegetation, and clogged streams with debris. These biodiversity losses carry long-term ecological and hydrological costs, habitat fragmentation, compromised watershed function, and increased vulnerability to future slope failures.

Social externalities: Overcrowded shelters created conditions for disease transmission that WHO warned could trigger epidemics of water-, food-, and vector-borne illnesses. The unpaid care work, predominantly shouldered by women, in these camps represents invisible labour sustaining survival. Gender-based violence risks escalate in displacement settings yet receive minimal systematic response. For informal workers and micro-enterprises, the loss of tools, inventory, and premises imposes multi-year setbacks and debt burdens that poverty measurements will capture only later, if at all.

Governance externalities: The first week exposed critical gaps. Multilingual warning systems failed, Coordination between agencies remained siloed. Data-sharing between the Disaster Management Centre, Meteorology Department, and local authorities proved inadequate for real-time decision-making. These aren’t technical failures; they’re symptoms of institutional capacity eroded by years of budget constraints, hiring freezes, and deferred maintenance.

Why This Cyclone Was Different

Climate scientists studying Ditwah’s behaviour note concerning anomalies. It formed unusually close to the equator and maintained intensity far longer than expected after landfall. While Sri Lanka has experienced at least 16 cyclones since 2000, these were typically mild. Ditwah’s behaviour suggests something shifting in regional climate patterns.

Sri Lanka ranks high on the Global Climate Risk Index, yet 81.2% of the population lacks adaptive capacity for disasters. This isn’t a knowledge gap; it’s a resource gap. The country’s Meteorology Department lacks sufficient Doppler radars for precise forecasting. Rescue helicopters are ageing and maintenance are deferred. Urban drainage hasn’t been upgraded to handle changing rainfall patterns. Reservoir management protocols were designed for historical rainfall distributions that no longer apply.

The convergence proved deadly: a climate system behaving unpredictably met infrastructure built for a different era, governed by institutions weakened by austerity, in a landscape where unregulated development had systematically eroded natural defences.

Sources: WHO, UNICEF, UNDP, Sri Lanka Disaster Management Centre, UN OCHA, The Diplomat, Al Jazeera,

The Recovery Crossroads

With foreign reserves barely matching the reconstruction bill, Sri Lanka faces constrained choices. An IMF consideration of an additional $200 million on top of a scheduled tranche offers partial relief, but the fiscal envelope, shaped by ongoing debt restructuring and austerity commitments, forces brutal prioritisation.

The temptation will be “like-for-like” rebuilds replace what washed away with similar structures in the same locations. This would be the fastest path back to normalcy and the surest route to repeat disaster. The alternative, what disaster planners call “Build Back Better”, requires different investments:

* Targeted livelihood support for the most vulnerable: Cash grants and working capital for fisherfolk, smallholders, and women-led enterprises, coupled with temporary employment in debris clearance and ecosystem restoration projects.

* Resilient infrastructure: Enforce flood-resistant building codes, elevate power substations, create backup power routes, and use satellite monitoring for landslide-prone areas.

* Rapid disaster payments: Automatically scale up cash aid through existing social registries, with mobile transfers and safeguards for women and disabled people.

* Insurance for disasters: Create a national emergency fund triggered by rainfall and wind data, plus affordable microinsurance for fishers and farmers.

* Restore natural defences: Replant mangroves and wetlands, dredge rivers, and strictly enforce coastal building restrictions, relocating communities where necessary.

The Reckoning

The answers are uncomfortable. Decades of prioritising economic corridors over drainage systems. Colonial land-use patterns perpetuated into the present. Wetlands sacrificed for development. Budget cuts to the institutions responsible for warnings and response. Building codes are unenforced. Early warning systems are under-resourced. Marginalised communities settled in the riskiest locations with the least support.

These aren’t acts of nature; they’re choices. Cyclone Ditwah made those choices visible in 13 billion cubic meters of water with nowhere safe to flow.

As floodwaters recede and reconstruction begins, Sri Lanka stands at a crossroads. One path leads back to the fragilities that made this disaster inevitable. The other, more expensive, more complex, more uncomfortable, leads to systems designed not to withstand the last disaster but to anticipate the next ones.

In an era of warming oceans and intensifying extremes, treating Ditwah as a once-in-a-generation anomaly would be the most dangerous assumption of all.

(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT, Malabe. The views and opinions expressed in this article are personal.)

Features

Revival of Innovative systems for reservoir operation and flood forecasting

Published

21 hours ago

2025/12/17

Sahan Weerasooriya

Most reservoirs in Sri Lanka are agriculture and hydropower dominated. Reservoir operators are often unwilling to acknowledge the flood detention capability of major reservoirs during the onset of monsoons. Deviating from the traditional priority for food production and hydropower development, it is time to reorient the operational approach of major reservoir operators under extreme events, where flood control becomes a vital function. While admitting that total elimination of flood impacts is not technically feasible, the impacts can be reduced by the efficient operation of reservoirs and effective early warning systems.

At the very outset, I would like to mention that the contents in this article are based on my personal experience in the Irrigation Department (ID), and there is no intention to disrespect their contributions during the most recent flood event. The objective is to improve the efficiency and the capability of the human resources available in the ID and other relevant institutions to better respond to future flood disasters.

Reservoir operation and flood forecasting

Reservoir management is an important aspect of water management, as water storage and release are crucial for managing floods and droughts. Several numerical models and guidelines have already been introduced to the ID and MASL during numerous training programs for reservoir management and forecasting of inflows.

This article highlights expectations of engineering professionals and discusses a framework for predicting reservoir inflows from its catchment by using the measured rainfall during the previous few days. Crucially, opening the reservoir gates must be timed to match the estimated inflow.

Similarly, rainfall-runoff relationships had been demonstrated and necessary training was provided to selected engineers during the past to make a quantitative (not qualitative) forecast of river water levels at downstream locations, based on the observed rainfall in the upstream catchment.

Already available information and technology

Furthermore, this article highlights the already available technology and addresses certain misinformation provided to the mass media by some professionals during recent discussions. These discrepancies are primarily related to the opening of reservoir gates and flood forecasting.

A. Assessing the 2025 Flood Magnitude

It is not logically sound to claim that the 2025 flood in the Kelani basin was the highest flood experienced historically. While, in terms of flood damage, it was probably the worst flood experienced due to rapid urbanisation in the lower Kelani basin. We have experienced many critical and dangerous floods in the past by hydraulic definition in the Kelani Ganga.

Historical water levels recorded at the Nagalagam Street gauge illustrate this point: (See Table)

In view of the above data, the highest water level recorded at the Nagalagam river gauge during the 2025 flood was 8.5 ft. This was a major flood, but not a critical or dangerous flood by definition.

B. Adherence to Reservoir Standing Orders

According to the standing orders of the ID, water levels in major reservoirs must be kept below the Full Supply Level (FSL) during the Northeast (NE) monsoon season (from October to March) until the end of December. According to my recollection, this operational height is 1.0m below the FSL. Therefore, maintaining a reservoir below the FSL during this period is not a new practice; it explicitly serves the dual purpose of dam safety and flood detention for the downstream areas.

C. Gate Operation Methodology

When a reservoir is reaching the FSL, the daily operation of gates is expected to be managed so that the inflow of water from the catchment rainfall is equal to the outflow through the spill gates (Inflow * Outflow). The methodology for estimating both the catchment inflow and the gate outflow is based on very simple formulas, which have been previously taught to the technical officers and engineers engaged in field operations.

D. Advanced Forecasting Capabilities

Sophisticated numerical models for rainfall-runoff relationships are available and known to subject specialists of the ID through the training provided over the last 40 years. For major reservoirs, the engineers in charge of field operations could be trained to estimate daily inflows to the reservoirs, especially in cases where the simple formulas mentioned in section C are not adequate.

Design concept of reservoir flood gates

Regarding the provision of reservoir spill gates, one must be mindful of the underlying principles of probability. Major reservoir spillways are designed for very high return periods, such as 1,000 and 10,000 years. If the spillway gates are opened fully when a reservoir is at full capacity, this can produce an artificial flood of a very large magnitude. A flood of such magnitude cannot occur under natural conditions. Therefore, reservoir operators must be mindful in this regard to avoid any artificial flood creation.

In reality, reservoir spillways are often designed for the sole safety of the reservoir structure, often compromising the safety of the downstream population. This design concept was promoted by foreign funding agencies in recent times to safeguard their investment for dams. Consequently, the discharge capacities of these spill gates significantly exceed the natural carrying capacity of river downstream. This design criterion requires serious consideration by future designers and policymakers.

Undesirable gate openings

The public often asks a basic question regarding flood hazards in a river system with reservoirs: Why is flooding more prominent downstream of reservoirs compared to the period before they were built? This concern is justifiable based on the following incidents.

For instance, why do Magama in Tissamaharama face flood threats after the construction of the massive Kirindi Oya reservoir? Similarly, why does Ambalantota flood after the construction of Udawalawe Reservoir? Furthermore, why is Molkawa in the Kalutara District area getting flooded so often after the construction of Kukule reservoir?

These situations exist in several other river basins too. Engineers must therefore be mindful of the need to strictly control the operation of reservoir gates by their field staff. The actual field situation can sometimes deviate significantly from the theoretical technology discussed in air- conditioned rooms. Due to this potential discrepancy, it is necessary to examine whether gate operators are strictly adhering to the operational guidelines, as gate operation currently relies too much on the discretion of the operator at the site.

In 2003, there was severe flood damage below Kaudulla reservoir in Polonnaruwa. I was instructed to find out the reason for this flooding by the then Minister of Mahaweli & Irrigation. During my field inspection, I found that the daily rainfall in the area had not exceeded 100mm, yet the downstream flood damage was unbelievable. I was certain that 100mm of rainfall could not create a flood of that magnitude. Further examination suggested that this was not a natural flood, but was created by the excessive release of water from the radial gates of the Kaudulla reservoir. There are several other similar incidents and those are beyond the space available for this document.

Revival of Innovative systems

It may be surprising to note the high quality of real-time flood forecasts issued by the ID for the Kelani River in the late 1980s and early 1990s. This was achieved despite the lack of modern computational skills and advanced communication systems. At that time, for instance, mobile phones were non-existent. Forecasts were issued primarily via the Sri Lanka Broadcasting Corporation (SLBC )in news bulletins.

A few examples of flood warning issued during the past available in official records of the ID are given below:

Forecast issued at 6th June 1989 at 5.00 PM

“The water level at Nagalagam street river gauge was at 9 ft 0 inches at 5.0 PM. This is 1.0 ft above the major flood level. Water level is likely to rise further, but not likely to endanger the Kelani flood bund”.

Eng. NGR. De Silva, Director Irrigation

Forecast issued at 30th Oct 1991 at 6.00 PM

“The water level at Nagalagam street river gauge was at 3 ft 3 inches at 6.0 PM. The water level likely to rise further during the next 24 hours, but will not exceed 5.0 ft.”

Eng. K.Yoganathan, Director Irrigation

Forecast issued at 6th June 1993 at 10.00 AM:

“The water level at Nagalagam street river gauge was at 4 ft 6 inches last night. The water level will not go above 5.0 ft within the next 24 hours.”

Eng. K.Yoganathan, Director Irrigation

Forecast issued at 8th June 1993 at 9.00 AM:

“The water level at Nagalagam Street River gauge was at 4 ft 6 inches at 7.00 AM. The water level will remain above 4.0 ft for the next 12 hours and this level will go below 4.0 ft in the night.

The water level is not expected to rise within next 24 hours.”

Eng.WNM Boteju,Director of Irrigation

Conclusion

Had this technology been consistently and effectively adopted, we could have significantly reduced the number of deaths and mitigated the unprecedented damage to our national infrastructure. The critical question then arises: Why is this known, established flood forecasting technology, already demonstrated by Sri Lankan authorities, not being put into practice during recent disasters? I will leave the answer to this question for social scientists, administrators and politicians in Sri Lanka.

Features

Rebuilding Sri Lanka for the long term

Published

2 days ago

2025/12/16

Sahan Weerasooriya

President Dissanayake chairing a disaster management meeting

The government is rebuilding the cyclone-devastated lives, livelihoods and infrastructure in the country after the immense destruction caused by Cyclone Ditwah. President Anura Kumara Dissanayake has been providing exceptional leadership by going into the cyclone affected communities in person, to mingle directly with the people there and to offer encouragement and hope to them. A President who can be in the midst of people when they are suffering and in sorrow is a true leader. In a political culture where leaders have often been distant from the everyday hardships of ordinary people, this visible presence would have a reassuring psychological effect.

The international community appears to be comfortable with the government and has been united in giving it immediate support. Whether it be Indian and US helicopters that provided essential airlift capacity or cargo loads of relief material that have come from numerous countries, or funds raised from the people of tiny Maldives, the support has given Sri Lankans the sense of being a part of the world family. The speed and breadth of this response has contrasted sharply with the isolation Sri Lanka experienced during some of the darker moments of its recent past.

There is no better indicator of the international goodwill to Sri Lanka as in the personal donations for emergency relief that have been made by members of the diplomatic corps in Sri Lanka. Such gestures go beyond formal diplomacy and suggest a degree of personal confidence in the direction in which the country is moving. The office of the UN representative in Sri Lanka has now taken the initiative to launch a campaign for longer term support, signalling that emergency assistance can be a bridge to sustained engagement rather than a one-off intervention.

Balanced Statement

In a world that has turned increasingly to looking after narrow national interests rather than broad common interests, Sri Lanka appears to have found a way to obtain the support of all countries. It has received support from countries that are openly rivals to each other. This rare convergence reflects a perception that Sri Lanka is not seeking to play one power against another, and balancing them, but rather to rebuild itself on the basis of stability, inclusiveness and responsible governance.

An excerpt from an interview that President Dissanayake gave to the US based Newsweek magazine is worth reproducing. In just one paragraph he has summed up Sri Lankan foreign policy that can last the test of time. A question Newsweek put to the president was: “Sri Lanka sits at the crossroads of Chinese built infrastructure, Indian regional influence and US economic leverage. To what extent does Sri Lanka truly retain strategic autonomy, and how do you balance these relationships?”

The president replied: “India is Sri Lanka’s closest neighbour, separated by about 24 km of ocean. We have a civilisational connection with India. There is hardly any aspect of life in Sri Lanka that is not connected to India in some way or another. India has been the first responder whenever Sri Lanka has faced difficulty. India is also our largest trading partner, our largest source of tourism and a significant investor in Sri Lanka. China is also a close and strategic partner. We have a long historic relationship—both at the state level and at a political party level. Our trade, investment and infrastructure partnership is very strong. The United States and Sri Lanka also have deep and multifaceted ties. The US is our largest market. We also have shared democratic values and a commitment to a rules-based order. We don’t look at our relations with these important countries as balancing. Each of our relationships is important to us. We work with everyone, but always with a single purpose – a better world for Sri Lankans, in a better world for all.”

Wider Issues

The President’s articulation of foreign relations, especially the underlying theme of working with everyone for the wellbeing of all, resonates strongly in the context of the present crisis. The willingness of all major partners to assist Sri Lanka simultaneously suggests that goodwill generated through effective disaster response can translate into broader political and diplomatic space. Within the country, the government has been successful in calling for and in obtaining the support of civil society which has an ethos of filling in gaps by seeking the inclusion of marginalised groups and communities who may be left out of the mainstream of development.

Civil society organisations have historically played a crucial role in Sri Lanka during times of crisis, often reaching communities that state institutions struggle to access. Following a meeting with CSOs, at which the president requested their support and assured them of their freedom to choose, the CSOs mobilised in all flood affected parts of the country, many of them as part of a CSO Collective for Emergency Response. An important initiative was to undertake the task of ascertaining the needs of the cyclone affected people. Volunteers from a number of civil society groups fanned out throughout the country to collect the necessary information. This effort helped to ground relief efforts in real needs rather than assumptions, reducing duplication and ensuring that assistance reached those most affected.

The priority that the government is currently having to give to post-cyclone rebuilding must not distract it from giving priority attention to dealing with postwar issues. The government has the ability and value-system to resolve other national problems. Resolving issues of post disaster rebuilding in the aftermath of the cyclone have commonalities in relation to the civil war that ended in 2009. The failure of successive governments to address those issues has prompted the international community to continuously question and find fault with Sri Lanka at the UN. This history has weighed heavily on Sri Lanka’s international standing and has limited its ability to fully leverage external support.

Required Urgency

At a time when the international community is demonstrating enormous goodwill to Sri Lanka, the lessons learnt from their own experiences, and the encouraging support they are giving Sri Lanka at present, can and must be utilised. The government under President Dissanayake has committed to a non-racist Sri Lanka in which all citizens will be treated equally. The experience of other countries, such as the UK, India, Switzerland, Canada and South Africa show that problems between ethnic communities also require inter community power sharing in the form of devolution of power. Countries that have succeeded in reconciling diversity with unity have done so by embedding inclusion into governance structures rather than treating it as a temporary concession.

Sri Lanka’s present moment of international goodwill provides a rare opening to learn from these experiences with the encouragement and support of its partners, including civil society which has shown its readiness to join hands with the government in working for the people’s wellbeing. The unresolved problems of land resettlement, compensation for lost lives and homes, finding the truth about missing persons continue to weigh heavily on the minds and psyche of people in the former war zones of the north and east even as they do so for the more recent victims of the cyclone.

Unresolved grievances do not disappear with time. They resurface periodically, often in moments of political transition or social stress, undermining national cohesion. The government needs to ensure sustainable solutions not only to climate related development, but also to ethnic peace and national reconciliation. The government needs to bring together the urgency of disaster recovery with the long-postponed task of political reform as done in the Indonesian province of Aceh in the aftermath of the 2004 tsunami for which it needs bipartisan political support. Doing so could transform a national tragedy into a turning point for long lasting unity and economic take-off.

by Jehan Perera