Features
Dinner with daddy: The Motwani dinner table with Kewal, Clara and two daughters
Excerpted from Chosen Ground: The Clara Motwani Saga by Goolbai Gunasekera
One thing I can say about life with my parents is that it was never dull. One parent was a school Principal and the other a Professor, and their united efforts ensured that every shining moment of the day was gainfully employed by their two daughters in learning something. This fact alone made for activity, if not for thrills or excitement.Father had a thing about dinner time conversation.
“Food digests better when we talk of soothing subjects,” he would decree, launching into a debate with Mother about the state of America’s foreign affairs. Mother, being American, and having lived out of the USA from the time of her marriage, was always up to date on what American Presidents were doing. America was the ultimate to her in just about everything, and it was a constant joy to her irreverent family to needle her on the subject whenever possible. She had a low tolerance for criticism of her motherland.
Su and I took sides indiscriminately, and a lively evening was had by all. I don’t know what all this argument did to our digestions, but obviously we flourished. Eventually my sister and I privately decided that the time had come to infuse dinner time chats with topics more to our liking. Accordingly, one night, Su led off.
“I saw a cute boy at the Barnes Place junction today,” she said brightly.
Our parents looked at her blankly. It hadn’t occurred to them that we’d ever noticed such unlikely beings as boys. We were aged thirteen and sixteen respectively, but such were the norms of the times in which we were raised.
Father slapped the table.
“Not of general interest,” he roared. “Now if Su had seen a comet passing overhead — that would be of general interest.”
“Honestly, Daddy,” I said, backing up my sibling, “our dinner conversations are so literary. Why can’t we relax?”
“I’m relaxed,” boomed Father. “Aren’t you relaxed?” he asked Mother across the table. “And what’s your problem in relaxing?”
This last was to me. Father had just read the latest Time on the Vietnam war, and was itching to get going on the subject.
“What would you two like to talk about?” Mother asked diplomatically.
Father looked frustrated, and began to fidget. Now, I’d reached the age of discretion, and hadn’t the slightest intention of revealing to my parents that Dearly Beloved (then Dearly to be Beloved) and I were having what my friends grandly termed an ‘affaire’, but which in reality was just a series of romantic phone calls usually made when everyone was out of the house. I simply smiled and let my sister carry on. She did.
“I want to know,” demanded Su, forthright to the point of lunacy, “if that cute boy I mentioned earlier can come and visit me at home. To chat about books and things,” she added hastily, seeing Father’s face begin to darken.
Mother and I watched apprehensively as his whole body seemed to swell with indignation. Mixing of the sexes was not yet allowed in the Sri Lanka of that time — and even less in sleepy Arazi, his home town, from where he had drawn his ideas on boy/girl relationships.
“Are you actually telling me you have spoken to this young ….” he paused, searching for suitable words, “this young despoiler of innocent girls, this depraved Romeo, this unethical whippersnapper, this……He was well launched.Su was not easily intimidated.
“What are you carrying on like that for?” she asked in honest bewilderment. “All my friends talk to boys at the Barnes Place corner. They cycle with us to school and then they go on to Royal … and stop kicking me, ” she added impatiently, to me.
It will be remembered that, unlike me, Su was a Bridgeteen. Following Mother’s educational theories that sisters should not attend the same school, we had been separated — though, frankly, I feel Mother might have been more concerned for the well-being of the schools rather than for the welfare of her two daughters. The vision of Su and her friends cycling up to the gates of St Bridget’s Convent in convoy, with the young stars of Royal College in attendance, quite shattered my parents.
“It’s boarding school for you, Miss,” Father roared at an indignant Su. “And don’t think I don’t mean it.”
At this point he recalled last month’s telephone bill and gave me a suspicious glare, to which I returned a perfectly bland look.
Following this incident, our parents paid Reverend Mother Superior of St. Bridget’s a visit, and if Father had had his way, one of the nuns would have been permanently stationed at an upstairs window with a telescope trained on all roads leading to the school, to ensure the future and continuing purity of the Convent’s teenage cyclists. Hearing of this exchange betwixt authority and her parents, Su groaned.
“Good grief,” she lamented. “The nuns are sleuths and bloodhounds at the best of times. They’ve got eyes at the back of their heads.”
Actually things did not turn out half as badly as she feared. One of the nuns was an American, like Mother, and she did not view the whole episode with undue alarm. She wigged Su in school.
“Enjoyed your ride to school today, my dear?” she would ask Su, when she passed in the corridor. Su would smile weakly.
“Honestly,” she fumed to me, “to think a damn dinner conversation would lead to all this. Father can carry on about world affairs all he likes. I’m not going to say one word at meal times to anyone about anything.”
Father ignored her sulks, and Su kept her vow of silence for a week. Our sire carried on his soliloquy on topics of his choosing, but the salt of his conversational meal was lacking. Without the thrust and parry of my sister’s witty questions and cheeky opinions, he found dinner time pretty damn dull. Finally, he addressed himself gruffly to his younger offspring:
“Come now, Miss Grumpy, I’ve forgiven you.”
Truth to tell, Su, who loved talking, was finding her self-imposed silence unexpectedly hard to cope with. Matters returned to normal, but Su being Su, this happy state did not long continue.
One month to the day after the previous disaster she upset the dinner equilibrium all over again.
“I want to know,” she demanded of Father, “when I can learn to ballroom dance properly.”
Mother and I froze in our seats, and watched Father turn that familiar shade of puce. He opened and shut his mouth several times.
“At thirteen?” he said in a strangled voice. It was more a statement than a question.
“At thirteen?” he bellowed again, finding his usual tonal timbre, and she wants to dance with other equally silly 13-year-olds, I suppose?”
I sat looking demure, my halo shining brightly in contrast with what I thought was Su’s less than scintillating performance. But life is so unfair. A fortnight later, my cheeky younger sister joined Frank Harrison’s School of Dancing, and went on to win the odd medal here and there too. I was speechlessly envious.
“The thing is,” she told me, “the thing is to ask Father for the impossible. Then he settles for what you really want.”
Considering Father’s views on friendship between teens of opposite sexes, he was surprisingly non-vocal when it came to marriage. Both he and Mother realized the impracticability of arranging marriages for us in India.But one story needs be told.
One day Father received an agitated letter from a wealthy Sindhi merchant who had been his playmate in the village of Arazi. The merchant’s only son (the apple of his eye) was now practicing medicine in the USA, and was refusing to marry a Sindhi girl, claiming that he was too ‘westernized’ to settle down in India with an Indian wife. He wanted to marry an American colleague – also a doctor.
“Just think, Kewal, only my foolish son would think that an American would like India,” lamented the merchant, quite forgetting that Kewal’s own wife felt quite at home in Asia.
It transpired that the wayward son would consider marrying an Indian girl if she were educated and ‘westernized’. His distraught father suddenly remembered that his boyhood friend had an American wife and also two half-American daughters. He assumed that at least one daughter must be of marriageable age, hence the letter to Father asking permission for his son to meet one of them.
Father summoned me. His success with Mother over his attempts at arranging marriages for us had so far been minimal. She had washed her hands of the whole affair, thinking Father must really be out of his mind to be doing something so uncharacteristic. Father just could not get away from Arazi influences at times. In any case, she had a pretty shrewd idea how I would react.
Clearing his throat and looking at a point over my head, Father said gruffly:
“Er, would you like to meet a nice young man when you go to University in Bombay?”
I could hardly believe my ears.
“What?”
“A doctor is looking for a wife.”
Truly, Father’s personal persuasive skills were nil. “So?”
“Well … er … would you like to meet him?”
The chance of paying Father back was too good to miss. “Daddy! Are you arranging for me to speak to a BOY?”
“Well, he is a mature and well-qualified individual. Not the sort I see hanging around near post-boxes, that your sister seems to find so exciting.”
“Daddy, are you SURE? He might have only one thing on his mind.”
(One of Father’s pet phrases at this time was: “Young men have only one thing on their minds, and that one thing is not repeatable.”)
Father knew he had to accept the wigging. He accepted our pretended shock with good grace, and told me it was entirely up to me.
In point of fact I did meet the young man in question. He took me out to dinner when I was at university in Bombay, but both of us had other romances going and marriage between us was not an option. However he has always been a convenient peg on which to hang a winning argument with my husband. During any disagreement I can always say:
“And to think I gave up a doctor for you!”
Father wrote to his friend. According to Mother, he gave his usual excuse.
“Who am I, a mere father, to know what goes on in the heads of women. Let your son marry his American. He will probably be very happy. After all – I am.”
Riot over the diet
Father’s long lecture tours distanced him from his growing family for much of the time. He was thus spared the sight and company of squealing babies, which in his eyes was all to the good. Father never learnt to carry an infant. “Squirming little creatures,” was his comment on all new borns.
Not given to panegyrics, he viewed his two daughters with a judicial eye. He seemed to regard any successes of ours as accidental and unexpected. Fortunately, Mother was the opposite. My sister Su and I grew up in an alien land, but not once did we feel anything but totally Sri Lankan. For this we had our parents to thank, for we were brought up as Sri Lankans first, and Asian/Americans as an afterthought.
Our school friends had parents who had fallen into the traditional roles of courtship and marriage. Our own parents, on the other hand, had fallen into a quite unique category. We never tired of hearing the tale. “So tell us, Daddy,” Su would say, “Tell us the story of how you proposed?”
Father loved the narrative. “What do you mean, ‘propose’?” he would ask. “Your Mother saw this superbly romantic-looking Indian and I hadn’t a chance in hell. I was at the altar before I knew it.”
Mother would sigh resignedly. She knew, and we both knew too, that the reality had been very different.
Father was 28 and Mother just 18 when they got engaged. At 19 Mother was married, and half way through her degree in Languages and Music at the University of Iowa. Just after their marriage, Father transferred from Yale in order to be near her. When the financial debacle of the Wall Street crash wiped out Father’s American bank account, it meant that our parents could not afford to live together on campus since married quarters were expensive.
Accordingly they simply pretended they were single. When Mother was awarded her degree, Father insisted that she do a Master’s in Education. “The British will go,” he predicted, “and India’s schools and colleges will need qualified Principals.”
Mother thereupon enrolled in Professor Ensign’s class and began her thesis. Professor Ensign was an avuncular type of person, and had given Father quite a lot of added correction work by way of helping him earn extra income. One morning, he called Father aside. “Kewal,” he began, “I have a young girl from Kentucky in my class who is interested in the East. I think you should meet her and tell her about India.”
Father agreed, of course, and found himself being introduced to Mother. They shook hands gravely, trying not to meet each other’s eyes. To the end of his days, Professor Ensign thought he had played Cupid. Father never enlightened him, and the story of his matchmaking success enlivened the good Professor’s dinner table for many moons after that.
Mother took me to see Professor Ensign when I was four years old, as she was back in America on furlough. He patted my head, and gave me a photograph of himself with Mother on one side of him and Father on the other. It was a picture I treasured for many years but alas, cannot trace at this moment.
“You wouldn’t be here if not for me,” he is supposed to have said to me. Mother smiled her gentle smile. “Very true,” she said, telling one of the few untruths she ever uttered.
One wonders how a bond was forged between a youngAmerican girl and an already mature Indian Doctor of Sociology. What similarities existed that resulted in this unusual yet successful partnership? Su and I would endlessly discuss the matter. Both of us expected to marry in Sri Lanka or India (which we did), and both of us wondered what it would be like if we fell in love with an American.
“You won’t have the chance,” Father told us grimly once, when Su had been foolish enough to voice her views on matrimony. “Perish the thought. You’ll marry here, and like it.”
So what was the glue that held the bond between our parents firm? Firstly, both were Theosophists. My American grandmother was so much into Theosophy that she even influenced Mother to become a vegetarian at 17. Father had been a vegetarian from birth and through Jamshed was an ardent Theosophist himself, so it does seem as though similar food habits and similar religious beliefs formed that first strong link between them. Secondly, they were both highly educated. A third factor was the difference in age between them: Father did not find it difficult to mould his young wife into his ways of thinking.
He found Su and me, his two daughters, far more of a challenge than he liked. “Where has your Mother’s gentleness gone?” he would demand, glaring at Su’s rebellious face. On principle Su objected to everything. “I’m going to eat meat the minute I marry,” she would declare. Father would blench.
“And I’ll drink, too,” she would add. He would go even paler.
“We’ve begotten a changeling,” Father would tell Mother, who would smile and tell him to bear in mind that adolescence was generally a trying time. “If those two young ingrates want to make graveyards of their stomachs, who am I, a mere Father, to stop them?” he would say plaintively, hoping Su would overhear him. “And if liquor addles their brains, it doesn’t matter. They are addled already. Curdled would be a better description,” he would add.
Father’s aversion to meat and liquor certainly led us into some strange situations. Travelling together in America had Su and me cringing in our seats at restaurants. “The steak is excellent, sir,” the waiter would say, handing Father the menu. Father felt called upon to inform the entire restaurant, of his dietary preferences.
“Not a piece of meat has ever passed my lips,” he would declare in ringing tones. “And I don’t intend to start now.”
“Perhaps a nice Dover sole, then?” the waiter would say soothingly. Father’s voice would rise several notes. “And what, pray, is the difference?” he would ask the unfortunate waiter. “They are both flesh of living creatures, are they not? Nasty bloody business, all this meat guzzling.”
Diners at other tables began to lose their appetites. Father was in full spate. “Just order, dear,” Mother would say tactfully and, truth to tell, the manager of the restaurant was by now ready to give us all a free meal just to get Father out of there. Everyone settled for omelettes and salad. Fortunately no one had yet heard of the cholesterol scare, and we must have eaten enough eggs to start a poultry farm upon our return home. Father did not think eggs violated any Brahmin laws of ethics or dietetics.
His attitude to liquor was even worse. He had dinner one night with Mr. and Mrs. Argus Tressider, American diplomats in Colombo in the 1950s. A week later, Nancy Tressider met Father again and he complimented her on her dessert.
“Oh, you liked my brandy souffle, did you?” she asked innocently, not realizing that she was virtually hitting Father in the solar plexus. He went pale, and his stomach churned. He collected Mother, and hightailed it out of there so fast she had hardly any time to make her excuses to her hostess. He went home and was sick for twenty-four hours.
“I’m poisoned, poisoned,” he groaned hollowly every few minutes. “My entire system has been polluted.” He went on a water diet of detoxification. He was a psychological mess. Nancy rang up the next day to find out how Father was getting along after his hasty exit the previous night. Mother told her the truth. “But Clara, my dear,” Nancy said, “I only used brandy flavouring for the pudding.”
Father faced our gales of glee with fortitude. He admitted shamefacedly that it was a case of mind over matter, but when the day eventually came that Su married an officer of the Indian Army and did take the occasional glass of wine, Father was genuinely upset. “Your pure bodies,” he would lament. “What a great, great pity.” I never had the courage to admit that I did likewise. “Poppycock,” Su would mutter.
But now that I am a grandmother myself, and face dietary and health problems as do we all, I wonder: did Father have a point?
Features
Approach to constitutional reform
The S.J.V. Chelvanayakam KC Memorial Lecture delivered on 26 April, at Jaffna Central College, by Professor G.L. Peiris, an academic with outstanding credentials, was published, under the title, “Federalism and paths to constitutional reform,” in The Island of 27 April, 2026.
In Part II of the publication, titled “Advocacy of Federalism: Origins and Context,” Professor Peiris states: “At the core of political convictions he held sacrosanct was his unremitting commitment to federalism…”. Contrary to popular belief, however, federalism in our country had its origins in issues which were not connected with ethnicity. At the inception, this had to do with aspirations, not of the Tamils but of the Kandyan Sinhalese. The Kandyan National Assembly, in its representations to the Donoughmore Commission in 1927, declared: “Ours is not a communal claim or a claim for the aggrandizement of a few. It is the claim of a nation to live its own life and realise its own destiny”.
Commenting on S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike’s views, Professor Peiris states: “Soon after his return from Oxford, as a prominent member of the Ceylon National Congress, was an advocate of federalism. He went so far as to characterise federalism as ‘the only solution to our political problems”.
THE COMMON THREAD
The thread that is common to the sources cited above is that while their focus was on the political framework, there is not even a hint as to the territorial units to which the political framework of federalism is to apply. With time the Tamil “nation” claimed that their federal State was to be the Northern and Eastern Provinces of Sri Lanka. However, the Kandyan “nation” was silent on this issue. Since Britain annexed the Kandyan Kingdom and the unified, then Ceylon in 1815, for all intents and purposes it would be reasonable to assume that the claim of the Kandyan “nation” was to be the region under the last Kandyan King, leaving the Western and Southern coastal regions for the Rest of the “nation”.
Sri Lanka, while being a colony under the British, was not interested in political frameworks. Instead, the British were interested in structural arrangements that facilitated Administration. It is evident from the evolutionary processes explored by the British that subdivided units of a State are critical not only for effective Administration but also for the political framework that ensures political stability. Federalism, advocated by the Tamil and Kandyan Leaderships for territorial units, as claimed by them, would inevitably lead to political instability. The lesson to be learnt is not to start with political frameworks, such as Federalism, but to first decide on the territorial units, within which a State functions, to ensure stability, and then frame political aspirations of the People belonging to such a State, in order to ensure political and structural stability.
LESSONS of HISTORY
Material from an article, dated 16 June, 2016
“When the British took control of the Dutch possessions in former Sri Lanka, in 1796, the Kandyan Kingdom was independent and separate from the Maritime region. The Kandyan Kingdom consisted of the “central highlands with the eastern and southeastern coastal strips”. It was after ceding of the Kingdom, at the Kandyan Convention of 1815, and after the rebellion of 1817-1818, that the two regions were merged. However, despite the merger, the administration of the two regions remained divorced from each other, with the Kandyan region being divided into 11 Districts, and the Maritime region into five, creating a total of 16 Districts for the administration of the whole country (Sir Charles Collins, Public Administration of Ceylon, 1951, p. 49).
“The above arrangements continued until the recommendations of the Colebrook – Cameron Commission. In 1832, the recommendations of the Commission were accepted , “… and the separate administrative system for the Kandyan provinces was abolished and amalgamated with the territories on the littoral acquired from the V.O.C. in a single unified administration structure for the whole island. The existing provincial boundaries within the two administrative divisions – the Kandyan and maritime provinces – were redrawn, and a new set of five provincial units, of which only one – the Central Province – was Kandyan pure and simple, was established. The new provincial boundaries cut across the traditional divisions and placed many Kandyan regions under the administrative control of the old maritime provinces” (K.M.de Silva, A History of Sri Lanka, 1981, p. 263), continued until as late as 1889, resulting in nine Provinces for the sole purpose of facilitating the Colonial administration. In point of fact, the Province never functioned as the administrative unit. Instead, the administrative unit was essentially the District, and the situation has remained so throughout the Colonial period and into this day. According to Sir Charles Collins cited above: “Most provinces were divided into districts, each Government Agent having charge of his own district, with general supervision over the whole province. The districts not in the direct charge of Government Agents were under the control of assistant Government Agents”. (Ibid, p. 62.)
PRIORITISING POLITICS OVER STABILITY
The lesson learnt by the British was that if a Colony is to be Administered effectively, the Colonizer had to choose the most appropriate unit of administration. Similarly, to an Independent Sovereign State, Territorial Stability should be its foremost priority. This means deciding on the most structurally secure territorial unit within which political power sharing should operate and not prioritise political frameworks, such as Federalism, at the expense of the structural stability of the State. Political instability would have been inevitable had Sri Lanka succumbed to pressures from the Tamil and Kandyan Leaderships.
Although Britain was not concerned with territorial stability, they recognised that the District was the most effective unit for effective administration. In fact, the 1977 Constitution describes the Territory of Sri Lanka in terms of Administrative Districts. Despite this, it was the Indo-Lanka Accord that first recognised the Northern and Eastern Provinces as political units. Following this, the 13th Amendment of 1987 extended this recognition to all Provinces.
The adoption of the Province as the political unit may not have had an impact on the territorial integrity of the Sri Lanka State, except for the Northern and Eastern Provinces, judging from the events that followed over three-plus brutal decades. The transformation of the territory of Sri Lanka, from Administrative Districts to Provinces and Provincial Councils, is the direct result of prioritising politics over territorial stability. For India to be the handmaiden of this transformation is beyond comprehension because instability in Sri Lanka, in whatever form, would impact on India’s own territorial integrity. This serious blunder cannot be ignored any further for the sake of both Sri Lanka and India. It is imperative that measures are taken to engage in a course correction through Constitutional Reform.
PROPOSED CONSTITUTIONAL REFORMS
The path to Constitutional Reform should start with the territorial subdivision of the Sri Lankan State into Districts, not only to ensure the territorial integrity of the State but also to improve administrative and development efficiencies coupled with Local Government units; a lesson learnt from the British. Any political powers devolved/decentralised to Districts should be the responsibility of District Councils, elected by representatives to Local Governments within each District.
Political power at the Centre should reflect the commitment to a single Sri Lankan Nation, through an elected Legislature, with Executive Powers being shared by a President/Prime Minister, with a Cabinet made up of all communities, in the ratio represented in Parliament. An attempt to share Executive Power with all communities, in an inclusive Cabinet, has not been the practice in the past, and under the present government, as well, despite its strident calls for unity and reconciliation. Consequently, the tendency for minority communities is to seek peripheral power to the maximum extent possible.
CONCLUSION
The approach to Constitutional making has been how best to accommodate political power in the form of Federalism, first by the Kandyan “nation” and later by the Tamil “nation”. The claim by the Tamil Leadership morphed from Federalism to a Separate State resulting in tragedies of an unimaginable order, to the point of threatening the very existence of the Sri Lankan State.
The current arrangement is based on Power being devolved to Provinces, in the form of Provincial Councils, with no regard the Province, makes to the territorial durability of the Sri Lanka State. How successive Governments hope to prevent threats to territorial vulnerabilities is to curtail the operation of sensitive provisions of devolved powers. This is being disingenuous.
On the other hand, the more direct and forthright approach to Constitutional Reform is to make the District the unit of peripheral power in order to ensure territorial stability and effective peripheral development and share Executive Power with communities in the ratio of their representation in the Legislature. The first could be achieved through a referendum and the second by the President/Prime Minister of any government. This approach prioritises territorial stability over political power; a change that has eluded policymakers. Therefore, it is imperative that territorial stability is given the foremost place in Constitutional Reform processes for the sake of not only Sri Lanka but also for India, for reasons of connectivity.
by Neville Ladduwahetty
Features
Time to get ready to face power
The power cuts are already here. Perhaps, even before the date predicted by the Public Utilities Commision of Sri Lanka (PUCSL. The peak load has gone well past the threshold they indicated as the tipping point of 3030 MW of peak load. It is now will past 3100 MW and growing, perhaps triggered by the continued heatwave making the use of air conditioners and fans more frequent and by a wider group of consumers. The government insists there is no intention of power cuts but each of us have experienced some form of power outage, without notice, at some time or other.
It is in this scenario that the Ceylon Electricty Board (CEB), or whatever it is called now, had directed all roof top solar projects, over 300 MW capacity, to shut down for the period 10th April to 20th April.
This is in addition to the curtailment of all ground mounted solar and wind projects, and even mini hydro projects, without compensation, going on for some months.
One year of inaction by CEB with the problem staring in the face
If will be recalled that the same demand was made in April, 2025, after the debacle of the countrywide blackout on 9th February, 2025, whether caused by a monkey or otherwise.
The question to be raised is what steps have been taken by the then CEB, or the Ministry to anticipate the situation this year, too, and to try and mitigate the same.
The easy answer is absolutely nothing. If at all what has been done is unilaterally prevent any further addition of Roof Top Solar PV, under the provisions of the Surya Bala Sangramaya (SBS), is, undoubtedly, the only short term and economical means to add low cost renewable electrical energy to the grid.
The architect of the SBS, the Sustainable Energy Authority is deafening by their silence, when their signature project of prime national importance has been sabotaged, and now even the performance of the already installed systems are being curtailed.
This action is totally unbelievable when the use of expensive oil-based generation will continue unabated, even during the day, when there is so much solar energy already installed. Of course, the age-old excuse will be trotted out, of the non-firm nature of Solar and Wind and problems of grid stability, etc.
Many useful and practical solutions to face the growing issue of how to integrate the essential low cost but variable resources of solar and wind to the grid as an aftermath of the blackout were discussed over a year ago.
But nothing seems to have even been attempted. The most prominent among these was the proposal to add 300 MW of grid scale batteries, as indicated in the already-approved Long Term Electricity Generation Plan ( LTEGP 2024 – 2044,) of which 100 MW should have been in use by 2026. The tender for the addition of 16 X 10 MW battery storage at selected grid substations was called over a year ago. Some expectation of sanity
It is under these circumstances that the PUCSL called for a stakeholder consultation on the 10th April, 2026, after circulating a concept note, which was well attended. It was a breath of fresh air, in view of the downhill slide of the entire electricity sector in the recent months compounded by the raging controversy of the coal scam and the rapidly increased use of expensive diesel, in addition to the other fossil fuels, just to keep up the generation to match the demand. The double whammy of the doubling of the fuel prices , exacerbated the hit on not only the consumer’s monthly bill, but the national economy and balance of payments.
Therefore, it was most encouraging to note from the PUCSL’s concept note that sanity has prevailed at last. We have been demandin–g some concrete strategies and time based targets to rid at least the electricity sector from the use of expensive, polluting fossil fuels, commencing with oil. This is the only means by which the utility could hope to achieve some degree of economic and financial viability. They have continued to burden the consumer and the country by continually jacking up the consumer tariff, while ignoring any prudent means to clean up their Act. As a matter of interest, the CEB’s own data of 2023 shows that it is possible to save some Rs 113 Billion annually by replacing all oil-based generation using renewables. The country could have saved over $ 700 Million in Foreign Exchange and the Consumer Tariff could have been lowered by Rs 7.00 per Unit across all segments of consumers.
Therefore, the PUCSL concept paper out lines, some credible measures to eliminate the use of all of forms of oil for power generation in stages. The three tier of approach, outlined as option 1 to 3, reproduced here, should be commended for adopting a pragmatic approach, with very good chance of success.
Proposed options by PUCSL
(See Options 1 Peak Shaving Approach by 2027 and Option 2: Eliminating 2.06 GWh/day of diesel-based generation)
Considering even the recent past when we achieved a status of zero oil use, as compared to the present sorry status, this is not an extremely difficult task. We will have to substitute Solar PV to bridge the gap of reduced Hydro during dry months.
(See diagram 1)
RE Contribution 69% % Oil Usage 6.2 % No Diesel
(See diagram 2)
In Contrast on 30th March RE Contribution was only -43,5%
and oil use has gone up to -29.59%
However, as outlined in the introductory paragraphs of the concept paper, the driving force to promote this change is the early declaration of appropriately worked out tariffs for installation of storage batteries and delivery of the stored energy to the grid.
With the total lack of progress of proposals in the LTEGP 2025-2044 by the state institutions, it is prudent to assume any future initiatives can only come from private sector participation.
Using the power granted by the recently ratified Electricity Act NO, 36 (As amended) the PUCSL has moved with commendable speed to develop the Feed in Tariff declarations needed to enable the achievement of the above objectives and a further stakeholder consultation was held on the 24th of April when more detailed proposals were put forward.
However, although the responsibility of publishing the tariff remains with the PUCSL, unless the National System Operator ( NSO ), tasked with the planning and implementation of Electricity Sector developments , takes urgent action to implement the desired changes as a highest priority task, nothing will be gained to help the country to get out of this quagmire.
The Consumer Continues to be Burdened.
Further, as the time table proposed by the PUCSL itself indicates, even the first of the options can be implemented only in 2027, with the others following up to the year 2030.
These are very encouraging time targets and the consumers will eagerly await their achievement.
However, the threat of power cuts, as well as continuing increase in consumer tariff to fuel the use of diesel for power generation, is real and current. A further tariff increase of 18% has been demanded by the NSO, on top of the 15% granted on 1st April, 2026.
The Immediate Options Available to Consumers.
a) The CEB now refuses to provide any grid connection for integration of any rooftop solar PV systems under the Surya Bala Sangraamaya.
b) The only way available to the consumers is to install Off grid roof top solar systems with adequate batteries to be none dependent on the grid. Use the grid only during the off peak hours.
c) During most periods of the year, even under cloudy conditions there is some solar generation. To ensure the daily consumption is more than covered by the solar input and any surplus is used to charge the battery, to the level adequate to manage the evening and peak hour demand, the capacity of the solar panels and battery have to be determined.
d) It is to be noted that although only the relatively high-end domestic consumers could find the proposed scheme financially feasible under the present cost regimes, which will improve further when the second tariff increase is announced shortly, to those consuming over 250 Units/Month, their engagement has a sector wise positive implication which is beneficial to all levels of consumers.
e) The scheme will operate in an off grid mode, without exports to the grid at any time. Therefore, they will not contribute to the often voiced worries of over voltage, instability and variability in the national grid.
f) Once the PUCSL announces the required FIT and the NSO or the Distribution Companies institutes the necessary facilities, such as smart meters, such consumers, too, can further assist the grid by export of any excess they generate.
Proposal to Avoid Power Cuts Implementable by Domestic Consumers
There are several drivers which will attract the potential ” Prosumers” to adopt this option without delay.
* The consumer tariff will continue to rise
* Even the former Roof Top Solar Systems, without batteries, does not provide power during the power cuts or blackouts
* At present day prices, the investment is financially feasible, based on the savings of the current level of monthly electricity bill. A substantial bank loan can be comfortably settled from the savings
* Now cooking with electricity is no longer a financial burden but can save one from the cost and danger of LPG shortages and queues
* What you, do based on your economic ability, will be a service to all consumers as the resultant reduction of Peak Demand means the use of Diesel can be gradually reduced and the lower end consumers, too, will benefit.
* You will enhance your green credentials with your own financial benefits.
The overall benefit to the grid and other consumers
If the element of exorbitant cost of diesel-based generation is removed then there is no need for the increase of consumer tariff for all consumers.
What is more important is that trimming the peak load would drastically reduce the need for any power shredding that is happening on the sly now and thereby benefit all consumers,
The summary of Financial Analysis illustrating the viability based on currently available data is given here. This will improve drastically if a further increase in consumer tariff is granted, which appears inevitable. (See Table 01 – The basic data used for this analysis is available on request.)
by Eng Parakrama Jayasinghe
parajayasinghe@gmail.com
Features
From Coal to Solar: China’s sunken mines power a Green Revolution: Lessons for Sri Lanka
In a striking symbol of the global energy transition, vast stretches of once-abandoned coal mines in China have been reborn, not as relics of an industrial past, but as shimmering hubs of renewable energy.
What were once scarred landscapes, destabilised by years of mining, and later submerged by landslides and floods, have now been transformed into expansive artificial lakes.
Floating atop these waters are some of the world’s largest solar power installations, quietly generating clean electricity on a massive scale.
Among the most notable are the Fuyang Floating Solar Farm and the Huainan Floating Solar Farm. Together, they represent a remarkable engineering and environmental achievement.
The Fuyang facility boasts an installed capacity of 650 megawatts, producing approximately 700 million kilowatt-hours of electricity annually. Even more impressive, the Huainan project reaches a staggering 1 gigawatt capacity, generating nearly 1.8 billion kilowatt-hours each year. Combined, these floating giants produce enough electricity to power millions of homes without burning a single lump of coal.
A former General Manager of the Ceylon Electricity Board (CEB), a veteran electrical engineer, described the development as “a glimpse into the future of energy systems.”
“What China has demonstrated is not just technological capability, but strategic foresight. Turning environmentally degraded land into clean energy assets is the kind of thinking countries like Sri Lanka must begin to adopt,” he said.
Why solar on water?
Floating solar, or “floatovoltaics,” offers a range of advantages that traditional land-based solar farms cannot easily match.
Water naturally cools solar panels, improving their efficiency by an estimated 10 to 15 percent. In hot climates, this cooling effect can significantly boost electricity generation.
Additionally, the panels reduce water evaporation, a crucial benefit in regions facing water stress. By limiting sunlight penetration, they also help suppress algae growth, improving water quality.
Perhaps, most importantly, floating solar eliminates the need for large tracts of land. In densely populated or agriculture-dependent countries, this is a game changer.
A dual economy: Fish and power
In an innovative twist, some of these floating solar farms incorporate aquaculture beneath the panels. Known as the “fisheries + solar” model, it allows communities to cultivate fish in the shaded waters below, creating a dual-income system, energy production above, food production below.
This integrated approach not only maximises resource use but also supports local livelihoods, blending sustainability with economic resilience.
Environmental dividends
The environmental benefits are substantial. The Fuyang project alone reduces carbon dioxide emissions by an estimated 580,000 tons annually, while the Huainan facility cuts emissions by around 1.6 million tons each year.
Beyond emissions, these projects reclaim landscapes once deemed unusable—areas heavily damaged by coal extraction. In doing so, they rewrite the narrative of industrial decline into one of ecological restoration and innovation.
Sri Lanka: A nation poised for floating solar For Sri Lanka, the implications are profound.
Unlike China’s abandoned coal pits, Sri Lanka possesses thousands of irrigation tanks, reservoirs, and hydropower catchments that could serve as ideal platforms for floating solar. From the ancient tank systems of the dry zone to major reservoirs like Victoria Dam and Randenigala Reservoir, the country holds untapped potential to generate clean electricity without sacrificing precious land.
The country’s reliance on thermal power, particularly during drought periods when hydropower declines—has long been a challenge. Floating solar could provide a stabilising solution, reducing dependence on costly fossil fuels while complementing existing hydroelectric infrastructure.
Energy analysts note that integrating floating solar with hydropower reservoirs can create a hybrid system: solar power during the day, hydropower balancing supply at night. This synergy enhances grid stability and reduces overall generation costs.
The former CEB official stressed the urgency:
“Sri Lanka cannot afford to delay. With rising energy demand and climate pressures, we must explore every viable renewable option. Floating solar on our reservoirs is one of the most practical and scalable solutions available.”
Challenges and the road ahead
However, experts caution that careful planning is essential. Environmental assessments, grid integration, and financing mechanisms must be properly addressed. Community engagement, especially where fisheries are involved—will also be key.
Yet the blueprint already exists.
China’s transformation of submerged coal mines into renewable energy hubs offers more than inspiration—it provides a working model. For Sri Lanka, adapting that model to its own geography could mark a decisive step toward energy independence.
China’s floating solar farms stand today as one of the clearest symbols of a world in transition—from fossil fuels to renewables, from environmental degradation to restoration.
For Sri Lanka, the message is equally clear: the future of energy may not lie on land alone—but on water, where sunlight meets innovation.
If harnessed wisely, Sri Lanka’s vast network of reservoirs could one day mirror that transformation, turning calm waters into engines of sustainable growth.
by Ifham Nizam
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