Features
Dilmah, my personal ethos and my commitment to marketing a single origin Ceylon tea
(Excerpted from the Merrill J. Fernando autobiography)
Decades ago, before supermarket chains marketing international brands overwhelmed the consumers’ perception of quality, with marketing hyperbole surrounding mediocre products, it was the neighbourhood grocer running his own shop, who personally wrapped your goods and handed them over the counter. There was meaningful conversation between the two and the transaction implied immediate accountability of the supplier to the consumer.
Today that relationship has been replaced by the faceless and voiceless supermarket retailer, who supports a convenience lifestyle, but leaves no space for direct accountability for product quality.
Most of the currently popular global brands were first launched and developed by small, single entrepreneurs, with a passion for delivering a product with genuine value to the customer. Many of them led small- or medium-sized family companies, such as mine, which competed with each other on product quality, and not by price discounting. These were companies which had been in business for generations and, over time, nurtured their brands with great care and passion.
In time, many such brands, seduced by attractive take-over offers, sold out to massive corporate interests, which marketed the brands on their old, established value propositions, but debased the product in order to lower costs. That is the point at which a product with an intrinsic composite value of individuality and authenticity, becomes a boring, anonymous commodity, to be traded at the mass market label owners’ will.
The small- and medium-scale suppliers who concentrate on quality and the delivery of an authentic product to the consumer, at a commensurate price, were eventually forced out of business, in their inability to accept deep cost reductions whilst still maintaining product integrity. The concentration of the tea industry in the hands of multinationals, Global outreach, changed the priorities of the brands that they acquired from smaller companies.
The passion of the brand founder for authenticity and quality was replaced by the greed for profit, which often meant the debasement of quality. These altered priorities inevitably drove the new brand owners to progressively cheaper sources for tea, in the process sacrificing quality and stifling innovation. Consequently, what is ultimately delivered to the consumer is a commercially viable, low-quality product.
That is exactly what has happened to Ceylon Tea, in many parts of the world where it is still consumed; in the hands of the large multinational retailers, it has become commoditised. The ‘Pure Ceylon Tea’ label was first diminished to ‘Ceylon Blend,’ degraded further to `Ceylon Type,’ and eventually disappeared altogether. However, the customer, anesthetized to reality by the original value perception, and his judgment clouded by marketing make-believe and the hard-sell of attractively-wrapped fiction, continued to patronize the devalued product. Brand loyalty is one-sided. The multinational brand owner has no allegiance to the consumer or the product, but only to profit.
The massive consumption this system generated was followed by fierce competition for shelf space between different brands, leading to progressive lowering of quality by the packer, in order to manage production costs and to remain profitable. The power of multinational traders enabled them to dictate and manipulate the product price, whether it be tea or coffee. The core philosophy of big business is not to be better, but bigger and more profitable. It is an ugly culture in which there is no place for ethics, or the delivery of genuine value. It is an ethos which is certain to generate a race to the bottom, in which the winner is, inevitably, the least scrupulous.
One factor which worked in my favour then, and continues to do so today, was that when I launched Dilmah, it would have been the first time that a brand founder cum brand owner was making personal visits to the countries of consumption to promote his product. With my style of direct, personal marketing, I reintroduced the concept of the producer’s personal accountability to the consumer. I spoke to the consumer and also listened to him. If the product is genuine, the consumer will ensure the success of the brand.
Perhaps fortunately, I had neither studied marketing as a subject, nor ever read a book on marketing. Therefore, I relied on my instinct and the intimate personal knowledge of overseas tea marketing that I had gathered in over four decades up to that time. Those two factors have rarely failed me and they did not fail me in Australia. I knew enough about my product to answer any question on it, unlike a marketing or sales representative, who may not have had comprehensive knowledge of the product or, most importantly, a genuine passion for what he was selling.
Unlike a paid salesman, I was able to tell the potential buyer confidently, that my product was the best and explain why it was so. I talked and lived tea and was not simply selling it. Equally important, there was my unshakable belief that God helps those who strive with diligence and integrity.
As a small, single entrepreneur from a small country, both with limited resources, fighting against multinationals with seemingly-limitless advertising budgets and deep outreach across continents, I gradually came to realize that I had a matchless advantage when it came to product promotion. The multinational was a huge, faceless entity, with no morality and no allegiance to anybody or anything,
except to profit. There was no accountability between the supplier, seller, product, and consumer. It represented a callous, commercial chain with dis-empowered links.
Dilmah, on the other hand, had an intimate brand image, a face, a real man to that face and, behind that man, a real family. The consumer was able to relate his morning cup of tea to a flesh and blood person. It was a unique concept of integrated connectivity, from beginning to end. Dilmah was the only tea brand which provided genuine ‘Garden to Cup’ answerability. In its totality, it spoke of association, authenticity, and accountability, which are perceptions of unquantifiable worth in any relationship, whether it be personal or commercial.
My Dilmah was a dream, dreamt by me as a young man in his early twenties, at the very beginning of his career, serving a colonial master in a field hitherto inaccessible to Ceylonese. It took almost four decades for that dream to reach reality and fruition. That long journey was signposted by hope and despair, success and failure, and active assistance and deliberate sabotage. Finally, my perseverance prevailed, supported by an enduring faith in the inherent goodness of Pure Ceylon Tea, in my ability as a tea-maker, and in my God.
As a consequence of my direct approach and acceptance of personal responsibility for my brand, the buyers became my close friends and took me into their hearts and their homes. I got to know their families and they got to know mine. They understood that my concern for the quality of the product and its acceptance by the consumer genuinely superseded the profit motive.
My Unique Selling Point was that what I presented was garden fresh, unblended, Pure Ceylon Tea and of a genuinely single, and singular, origin. It was packed where it was grown. I was not just a seller or a marketer, or a middleman, selling a product he had no link to, but the head of a close-knit family, which was selling its own creation. I was also a messenger on behalf of a peerless product.
Marketing strategies and styles need to evolve constantly, in order to keep abreast of changing consumer patterns and competition from other products, the latter exerting relentless pressure on the seller of any brand or product. Similarly, with the introduction of electronic mass media and social media platforms delivering instant knowledge globally, my company has also been compelled to frequently adjust its marketing strategies, in order to respond effectively to such daunting challenges.
However, irrespective of the intensity of the contest and the rewards at stake, Dilmah has not, and will not, compromise on its founding principle of quality and purity. As I have said repeatedly in this writing, that core concept is immutable. I cannot say it often enough. Tradition is our bedrock and sustainability, with authenticity our goal. I do not believe in quick fixes to any problem, whether in life or in the marketing of tea.
At the time I launched Dilmah, ‘Ethical Trade’ and ‘Fair Trade’ were not the common currency of the marketing of tea, as they are today. The strength of Dilmah was its commitment to quality and authenticity, which is declared in every pack, supported by the family philosophy behind the brand. In a world of large traders, Dilmah was a farmers’ tea brand, overriding the middleman and going directly to supermarkets the world over.
We did not try to replicate the successful strategies of our larger competitors. We developed our own business concepts, designs, and packaging, whilst our marketing platform clearly reflected our family values and aspirations. Those were our unique selling points, and, in the end, they made the difference.
Dilmah is possibly the one internationally-marketed tea brand which buys its product only from the country where it is grown, and that which is owned, packed, and marketed by the same country, all within one family, with the revenue flowing back to the country of origin. The surplus from that trade also stays in the country of origin. It is that surplus which enables the Dilmah contribution to social justice, environmental conservation, and other worthy causes that benefit the community.
In my mind that is an enterprise model without peer. Well before the ‘Ethical Trade’ and ‘Fair Trade’ labels entered the formal marketing lexicon of the local and international tea trade, as either desirable attributes or mandatory requirements, Dilmah was already voluntarily compliant.
If there is a lesson in Dilmah, it is a very simple one. I followed a dream relentlessly, with passion and integrity, and shared it with my consumers. They listened to me because I was an ordinary man whom they could identify with, telling a story with a simple message that they could understand and believe in. My story never changed because it was a simple truth. I was successful in the delivery of that
message because I had total confidence in myself, a comprehensive knowledge of my product, and complete faith in divine guidance. The timely and happy confluence of those unvarnished verities invested the Dilmah story with the enduring resonance of sustainability and credibility, which are its greatest strengths.
Features
Relief without recovery
The escalating conflict in the Middle East is of such magnitude, with loss of life, destruction of cities, and global energy shortages, that it is diverting attention worldwide and in Sri Lanka, from other serious problems. Barely four months ago Sri Lanka experienced a cyclone of epic proportions that caused torrential rains, accompanied by floods and landslides. The immediate displacement exceeded one million people, though the number of deaths was about 640, with around 200 others reported missing. The visual images of entire towns and villages being inundated, with some swept away by floodwaters, evoked an overwhelming humanitarian response from the general population.
When the crisis of displacement was at its height there was a concerted public response. People set up emergency kitchens and volunteer clean up teams fanned out to make flooded homes inhabitable again. Religious institutions, civil society organisations and local communities worked together to assist the displaced. For a brief period the country witnessed a powerful demonstration of social solidarity. The scale of the devastation prompted the government to offer generous aid packages. These included assistance for the rebuilding of damaged houses, support for building new houses, grants for clean up operations and rent payments to displaced families. Welfare centres were also set up for those unable to find temporary housing.
The government also appointed a Presidential Task Force to lead post-cyclone rebuilding efforts. The mandate of the Task Force is to coordinate post-disaster response mechanisms, streamline institutional efforts and ensure the effective implementation of rebuilding programmes in the aftermath of the cyclone. The body comprises a high-level team, led by the Prime Minister, and including cabinet ministers, deputy ministers, provincial-level officials, senior public servants, representing key state institutions, and civil society representatives. It was envisaged that the Task Force would function as the central coordinating authority, working with government agencies and other stakeholders to accelerate recovery initiatives and restore essential services in affected regions.
Demotivated Service
However, four months later a visit to one of the worst of the cyclone affected areas to meet with affected families from five villages revealed that they remained stranded and in a state of limbo. Most of these people had suffered terribly from the cyclone. Some had lost their homes. A few had lost family members. Many had been informed that the land on which they lived had become unsafe and that they would need to relocate. Most of them had received the promised money for clean up and some had received rent payments for two months. However, little had happened beyond this. The longer term process of rebuilding houses, securing land and restoring livelihoods has barely begun. As a result, families who had already endured the trauma of disaster, now face prolonged uncertainty about their future. It seems that once again the promises made by the political leadership has not reached the ground.
A government officer explained that the public service was highly demotivated. According to him, many officials felt that they had too much work piled upon them with too little resources to do much about it. They also believed that they were underpaid for the work they were expected to carry out. In fact, there had even been a call by public officials specially assigned to cyclone relief work to go on strike due to complaints about their conditions of work. This government official appreciated the government leadership’s commitment to non corruption. But he noted the irony that this had also contributed to a demotivation of the public service. This was on the unjustifiable basis that approving and implementing projects more quickly requires an incentive system.
Whether or not this explanation fully captures the situation, it points to an issue that the government needs to address. Disaster recovery requires a proactive public administration. Officials need to reach out to affected communities, provide clear information and help them navigate the complex procedures required to access assistance. At the consultation with cyclone victims this was precisely the concern that people raised. They said that government officers were not proactive in reaching out to them. Many felt they had little engagement with the state and that the government officers did not come to them. This suggests that the government system at the community level could be supported by non-governmental organisations that have the capacity and experience of working with communities at the grassroots.
In situations such as this the government needs to think about ways of motivating public officials to do more rather than less. It needs to identify legitimate incentives that reward initiative and performance. These could include special allowances for those working in disaster affected areas, recognition and promotion for officers who successfully complete relief and reconstruction work, and the provision of additional staff and logistical support so that the workload is manageable. Clear targets and deadlines, with support from the non-governmental sector, can also encourage officials to act more proactively. When government officers feel supported and recognised for the extra effort required, they are more likely to engage actively with affected communities and ensure that assistance reaches those who need it most.
Political Solutions
Under the prevailing circumstances, however, the cyclone victims do not know what to do. The government needs to act on this without further delay. Government policy states that families can receive financial assistance of up to Rs 5 million to build new houses if they have identified the land on which they wish to build. But there is little freehold land available in many of the affected areas. As a result, people cannot show government officials the land they plan to buy and, therefore, cannot access the government’s promised funds. The government needs to address this issue by providing a list of available places for resettlement, both within and outside the area they live in. However, another finding at the meeting was that many cyclone victims whose lands have been declared unsafe do not wish to leave them. Even those who have been told that their land is unstable feel more comfortable remaining where they have lived for many years. Relocating to an unfamiliar area is not an easy decision.
Another problem the victims face is the difficulty of obtaining the documents necessary to receive compensation. Families with missing members cannot prove that their loved ones are no longer alive. Without official confirmation they cannot access property rights or benefits that would normally pass to surviving family members. These are problems that Sri Lanka has faced before in the context of the three decade long internal war. It has set up new legal mechanisms such as the provision of certificates of absence validated by the Office on Missing Persons (OMP) in place of death certificates when individuals remain missing for long periods. The government also needs to be sensitive to the fact that people who are farmers cannot be settled anywhere. Farming is not possible in every location. Access to suitable land and water is essential if farmers are to rebuild their livelihoods. Relocation programmes that fail to take these realities into account risk creating new psychological and economic hardships.
The message from the consultation with cyclone victims is that the government needs to talk more and engage more directly with affected communities. At the same time the political leadership at the highest levels need to resolve the problems that government officers on the ground cannot solve. Issues relating to land availability, legal documentation and livelihood restoration require policy decisions at higher levels. The challenge to the government to address these issues in the context of the Iran war and possible global catastrophe will require a special commitment. Demonstrating that Sri Lanka is a society that considers the wellbeing of all its citizens to be a priority will require not only financial assistance but also a motivated public service and proactive political leadership that reaches out to those still waiting to rebuild their lives.
by Jehan Perera
Features
Supporting Victims: The missing link in combating ragging
A recent panel discussion at the University of Peradeniya examined the implications of the Supreme Court’s judgement on ragging, in which the Court recognised that preventing ragging requires not only criminal penalties imposed after an incident occurs but also systems and processes within universities that enable victims to speak up and receive support. Bringing together perspectives from law, university administration, psychology and students, the discussion sought to understand why ragging continues to persist in Sri Lankan universities despite the existence of legal prohibitions. While the discussion covered legal and institutional dimensions, one theme emerged clearly: addressing ragging requires more than laws and disciplinary rules. It requires institutions that are capable of supporting victims.
Sri Lanka enacted the Prohibition of Ragging and Other Forms of Violence in Educational Institutions Act No. 20 of 1998 following several tragic incidents in universities, during the 1990s. Among the most widely remembered is the death of engineering student S. Varapragash at the University of Peradeniya in 1997. Incidents such as this shocked the country and revealed the consequences of allowing violent forms of student hierarchy to persist. The 1998 Act marked an important legal intervention by recognising ragging as a criminal offence. The law introduced severe penalties for individuals found guilty of engaging in ragging or other forms of violence in educational institutions, including fines and imprisonment.
Despite the existence of this law for nearly three decades, prosecutions under the Act have been extremely rare. Incidents continue to surface across universities although most are not reported. The incidents that do reach university administrations are dealt with internally through disciplinary procedures rather than through the criminal justice system. This suggests that the problem does not lie solely in the absence of legal provisions but also in the ability of victims to come forward and pursue complaints.
The tragic reminders; the cases of Varapragash and Pasindu Hirushan
Varapragash, a first-year engineering student at the University of Peradeniya, was forced by senior students to perform extreme physical exercises as part of ragging, resulting in severe internal injuries and acute renal failure that ultimately led to his death. In 2022, the courts upheld the conviction of one of the perpetrators for abduction and murder. The case illustrates not only the brutality of ragging but also how long and difficult the path to justice can be for victims and their families. Even when victims speak about their experiences, they may not always disclose the full extent of what they have endured. In the case of Varapragash, the judgement records that the victim told his father that he was asked to do dips and sit-ups. Varapragash’s father had testified that it appeared his son was not revealing the exact details of what he had to endure due to shame.
More than two decades after the death of Varapragash, the tragedy of ragging continues. The 2025 Supreme Court judgement arose from the case of Pasindu Hirushan, a 21-year-old student of the University of Sri Jayewardenepura, who sustained devastating head injuries at a fresher’s party, in March 2020, after a tyre sent down the stairs by senior students struck him. He became immobile, was placed on life support, and returned home only months later. If the Varapragash case exposed the deadly consequences of ragging in the 1990s, the Pasindu Hirushan case demonstrates that universities are still failing to prevent serious violence, decades after the enactment of the 1998 Act. It was against this background of continuing institutional failure that the Supreme Court issued its Orders of Court in 2025. Among the key mechanisms emphasised by the judgement is the establishment of Victim Support Committees within universities.
Why do victims need support?
Ragging in universities can take many forms, including verbal humiliation, physical abuse, emotional intimidation and, in some instances, sexual harassment. While all forms of ragging can have serious consequences, incidents involving sexual harassment often present additional barriers for victims who wish to come forward. Victims may hesitate to complain due to weak institutional mechanisms, fear of retaliation, or uncertainty about whether their experiences will be taken seriously. In many cases, those who speak out are confronted with questions that shift attention away from the alleged misconduct and onto their own behaviour: why did s/he continue the conversation?; why did s/he not simply disengage, if the harassment occurred as claimed?; why did s/he remain in the environment?; or did his/her actions somehow encourage the accused’s behaviour? Such responses illustrate how easily victims can be subjected to a second layer of scrutiny when they attempt to report incidents. When individuals anticipate disbelief, minimisation or blame, silence may appear safer than disclosure. In such circumstances, the presence of a trusted institutional body, capable of providing guidance, protection and support, become critically important, highlighting the need for effective Victim Support Committees within universities.
What Victim Support Committees must do
As expected by the Supreme Court, an effective Victim Support Committee should function as a trusted institutional mechanism that places the safety and dignity of victims at the centre of its work. The committee must provide a safe and confidential point of contact through which victims can report incidents of ragging without fear of intimidation or retaliation. It should assist victims in understanding and pursuing available complaint procedures, while also ensuring their immediate protection where there is a risk of continued harassment. Recognising the psychological harm ragging may cause, the committee should facilitate access to counselling and emotional support services. At a practical level, it should also help victims document incidents, record statements, and preserve evidence that may be necessary for disciplinary or legal proceedings. The committee must coordinate with university authorities to ensure that complaints are addressed promptly and responsibly, while maintaining strict confidentiality to protect the identity and well-being of those who come forward. Beyond responding to individual cases, Victim Support Committees should also contribute to broader awareness and prevention efforts, within universities, helping to create an environment where ragging is actively discouraged and students feel safe to report incidents. Without such support, the process of pursuing justice can become overwhelming for individuals who are already dealing with the emotional impact of abuse.
Making Victim Support Committees work
According to the Orders of Court, these committees should include representatives from the academic and non-academic staff, a qualified counsellor and/or clinical psychologist, an independent person, from outside the institution, with experience in law enforcement, health, or social services, and not more than three final-year students, with unblemished academic and disciplinary records, appointed for fixed terms. Further, universities must ensure that committees consist of individuals who possess both expertise and genuine commitment in areas such as student welfare, psychology, gender studies, human rights and law enforcement, in line with the spirit of the Supreme Court’s directions, rather than consisting largely of ex officio positions. If treated as routine administrative positions, rather than responsibilities requiring specialised knowledge, sensitivity and empathy, these committees risk becoming symbolic rather than functional.
Greater transparency in the appointment process could strengthen the credibility of these committees. Universities could invite expressions of interest from individuals with relevant expertise and demonstrated commitment to supporting victims. Such an approach would help ensure that the committees benefit from the knowledge and dedication of those best equipped to fulfil this role.
The Supreme Court judgement also introduces an important safeguard by giving the University Grants Commission (UGC) the authority to appoint members to university-level Victim Support Committees. If exercised with integrity, this provision could help ensure that these committees operate with greater independence. It may also help address a challenge that sometimes arises within institutions, where individuals, with relevant expertise, or strong commitment to addressing issues, such as violence, harassment or student welfare, may not always be included in institutional mechanisms due to internal administrative preferences. External oversight by the UGC could, therefore, create opportunities for such individuals to contribute meaningfully to Victim Support Committees and strengthen their effectiveness.
Ultimately, the success of the recent judgement will depend not only on the directives it issued, the number of committees universities establish, or the number of meetings they convene, or other box-checking exercises, but on how sincerely those directives are implemented and the trust these committees inspire among students and staff. Laws can prohibit ragging, but they cannot by themselves create environments in which victims feel safe to speak. That responsibility lies with institutions. When universities create systems that listen to victims, support them and treat their experiences with seriousness, universities will become places where dignity and learning can coexist.
(Udari Abeyasinghe is attached to the Department of Oral Pathology 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 Udari Abeyasinghe
Features
Big scene … in the Seychelles
Several of our artistes do venture out on foreign assignments but, I’m told, most of their performances are mainly for the Sri Lankans based abroad.
However, the group Mirage is doing it differently and they are now in great demand in the Seychelles.
Guests patronising the Lo Brizan pub/restaurant, Niva Labriz Resort, in the Seychelles, is made up of a wide variety of nationalities, including Russians, Chinese, French and Germans, and they all enjoy the music dished out by Mirage, and that is precisely why they are off to the Seychelles … for the fifth time!
The band is scheduled to leave this month and will be back after three weeks, but their journey to the Seychelles will continue, with two more assignments lined up for 2026.
In August it’s a four-week contract, and in December another four-week contract that will take in the festive celebrations … Christmas and the New Year.

Donald’s birthday
celebrations
According to reports coming my way, it is a happening scene at the Lo Brizan pub/restaurant, Niva Labriz Resort, whenever Mirage is featured, and the band has even adjusted its repertoire to include local and African songs.
They work three hours per day and six days per week at the Lo Brizan pub/restaurant.

Donald Pieries:
Leader, vocalist,
drummer
Led by vocalist and drummer Donald Pieries, many say it is his
musical talents and leadership that have contributed to the band’s success.
Donald, who celebrated his birthday on 07 March, at the Irish Pub, has been with the group through various lineup changes and is known for his strong vocals.
He leads a very talented and versatile line up, with Sudham (bass/vocals), Gayan (lead guitar/vocals), Danu (female vocalist) and Toosha (keyboards/vocals).
Mirage performs regularly at venues like the Irish Pub in Colombo and also at Food Harbour, Port City.
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