Features
DOWN THE RIVER TIBER
(Excerpted from Falling Leaves, an anthology of memoirs by LC Arulpragasam)
As a boy growing up in Ceylon, I had developed a fascination for water, whether lakes, lagoons, rivers or sea: I just loved being near them. Even as schoolboys, my friends and I owned two canoes in which we explored the country’s canals, lagoons and waterways. So in Rome around 1972, at the ripe age of 45 years, I was still hankering after my youthful days of drifting downstream on a rippling river! Unfortunately by this time, a chronic backache prevented me from sitting in a canoe for long periods. So I had to find a not-too-difficult river to navigate, and had to go downstream rather than upstream, in order not to battle its current. I had to find a cheap canoe, and someone who could swim, to accompany me.
An obvious choice was the river Tiber, which springs in faraway Toscana/Umbria and flows through Rome to the sea in Ostia. It presented some problems, however. First, since there are some obstructions to its flow through Rome, I had to find a starting point beyond those obstacles. Second, I had to find a suitable point for launching the canoe, which was not easy, because its banks in Rome are heavily built up. I had also to find a feasible point for pick-up at journey’s end, since otherwise we would be debouched into the sea at Ostia! After some reconnaissance, I decided to launch the canoe from a bridge across the river at Marconi, a southern suburb of Rome. We also had to find a point to be picked-up at journey’s end, as well as a place to stop in case of emergency – which needed to be reconnoitered in advance.
Looking for a canoe, I found a cheap one in a supermarket of all places: but it was an inflatable canoe, made of plastic! When inflated, it looked and handled like a canoe – except that on a later trip in the Adriatic Sea, it wafted uncontrollably in the wind, blowing us dangerously out to sea. But since it was light and comfortable, it would serve us well on the tame trip down the Tiber.
After assembling the canoe in our large living room, I decided that due to my painful back, I had better practise sitting in it continuously for two hours before I risked embarking on a long trip. So I grabbed my canoe accessories which included the paddles and a Kalutara basket hat left over from my canoeing days in Ceylon. Putting the hat on my head absently for the moment, I settled down in the canoe to read ‘The Economist’. Although this may have gone unremarked in my household, unfortunately my daughter’s friend from Canada happened to arrive in our apartment, just at this moment. My daughter, Shyamala, was leading her friend, Donna, to her room, when the latter had caught a glimpse of me seated in the canoe, with a straw hat on my head and oars seemingly in hand.
Taken aback, she said nothing until she reached her room, when feeling it her duty, she hesitantly told Shyamala ‘I think I should tell you that there is a strange man in a canoe in your living room in a straw hat, thinking he is going on some water’. ‘That must be my father’ replied my daughter nonchalantly, while continuing her conversation – as if this were normal. Donna told me later that she had therefore assumed that Shyamala’s father was ‘not all there’. It took a long time for me to live that one down!
I now had to find a companion with some swimming and canoeing experience – which was almost impossible to find among our Sri Lankan friends or colleagues in FAO. Fortunately, there was a Japanese Associate Expert, named Kunio, who was undergoing training in my Branch. He was very loyal and would often say in his broken English: ‘I love you, boss, I love you!’ I knew that because of his Japanese loyalty, he would follow me even unto death! Needless to say, he was overjoyed to join in this venture.
Now we needed to reconnoiter the river from the Marconi bridge down to the sea, in order to find a suitable pick-up spot at journey’s end – where a colleague named Samad, offered to pick us up. But we needed also to find a spot on the way that could be reached by car, in case of emergency. So we set out together to reconnoiter the river. After a few miles, we found that there was no access to the river from the road, since there was intervening scrub jungle between road and river, separated by a tall, barbed wire fence. So we climbed through the fence and plunged through the scrub jungle towards the river.
But as we neared the river, we heard the baying of dogs and were soon set upon by a raging pack of ravenous dogs, which apparently roamed this jungle, living on rats and rabbits. Although we were aware that some Romans in those days (1972) abandoned their dogs when going away on holiday, we had never anticipated this. We fled towards the road, jumping over shrubs, rocks and rivulets, followed closely by the dogs. Kunio and I being fairly fit, outpaced the dogs; but our friend Samad, in trying a flying leap over a stream, fell full flat into it. We ultimately managed to get back to the road, although our clothes were torn and bloodied by our wild scramble through the wire fence! We did manage to find a pick-up point near Ostia at journey’s end, but were unable to find any spot for emergency landing, due to the wild dogs in the scrub.
We made our final preparations for departure, including food and water to be carried, etc. On the night before our departure, I inflated the canoe in order to check that everything was alright. To my horror, I found that the canoe had sprung a leak! It was too late to get it repaired, since we were to leave at 6 a.m. next morning. Because I did not want to scare my family, I decided not to tell them about the leak, but decided instead to carry a foot-pump along to keep the canoe afloat by repeated pumping. At daybreak, my family escorted us to the launching site near the bridge at Marconi. The banks of the river are high at this point, with a very steep and rough descent through thorny bushes down to the river, which presented problems in loading our equipment. After carrying most of our stuff down, I got my son, Jehan, to throw the odds and ends down to us (about 12 feet) in the river below.
But when he tossed the pump towards me (rather carelessly I must say), it fell into the thorny shrubs on the riverbank, not to be seen again, despite prolonged search. We were now in a quandary. On the one hand, it would be really dangerous to set out on a day-long trip in a leaking canoe; on the other, I did not want to abort our trip after loading the canoe, just minutes before departure. Hence, standing down in the river, I had to admit to my long-suffering wife (who was standing 12 feet above us on the road) that there was a leak in the canoe, together with a plea that she goes to the supermarket to buy another air-pump for us.
If she succeeded in getting it, I begged her (by this time I was begging!) to bring it to the big bridge over the river Tiber (on the way to the Fiumicino Airport) and drop it down to me in the river far below. Almost in tears, my wife agreed to comply, because she realized that I was intent on setting out on the journey, with or without the pump. We therefore set a time by which we expected to reach the bridge, which was about three miles farther downstream, where she agreed to meet us. When we did reach the bridge, I was so relieved to find my wife already there with the pump in hand.
I shudder to think of what would have happened if she had not found a pump in the shop that day: for we could not have gone back to our starting-point, or to our destination point without sinking – thus becoming fodder for the ravenous dogs. The bridge is very high over the river at this point: so I could not climb up to her, nor could she climb down to me. With agreement reached by shouting, she threw the pump down to the river about 50 feet below, where I was able to retrieve it. Thus Kunio and I were able to continue on our way, though we had to re-inflate the canoe twice to keep it afloat. I always remember my wife with gratitude, when I think of her unfailing loyalty to me and my lost causes!
Although the Tiber was very polluted, it paid us back handsomely for our efforts to navigate it. We had consciously chosen to go downstream, so that we would be carried by the flow of the river rather than fight its flow. Hence it was a leisurely paddle downstream, steering the canoe with a flick of my paddle, while the flow of the river bore us onward. We had plenty of time to admire the scenery. Soon we were beyond the built-up parts of Rome and were greeted by scrub jungle and forest all the way down to the sea. The river itself was greenish in color, speaking of the many pollutants that it bore. But it was bordered by beautiful trees: weeping willows, plane trees and poplars. It was heavenly to glide along the river, listening to its gurgle and following its flow. Occasionally we would pass a lone angler and we did actually see one pulling in a very large fish.
It is necessary, however, to mention the level of pollution in the river. The water was turgid and green with the pollutants that it bore. And we could not fail to notice the number of condoms it carried! We must have gone about one-third of our journey when Kunio decided to start counting the number of condoms that we passed. Our count came to 76 condoms over two-thirds of the river until we reached its end! The Roman couples parked by the river had obviously been working overtime to send us so many love (french) letters downstream!
The river broadened as we came closer to its outlet to the sea. The trees grew sparser, with open, grassy plains. Nearer the sea, we saw large butterfly nets on the river (as used in China and Kerala), consisting of large square nets suspended in the water by long poles, which were raised mechanically to bring up the fish caught in them. After a couple of miles, we arrived at our destination where our friend, Samad, awaited us. Kunio and I then loaded our canoe onto my car for our triumphal return home.
We had traveled 22 kilometers down the river and had taken nine hours to cover the distance. Fortunately, we had had no mishaps along the way, although we had to stop twice to inflate our leaking canoe. I remember to this day the wild beauty of the lower reaches of the Tiber, its glistening green waters and its lush countryside, bathed in the angled light of spring. My family and I had seen most of the sights of Rome; but this trip provided me with a glimpse of the underbelly of the eternal city.
Features
Retirement age for judges: Innovation and policy
I. The Constitutional Context
Independence of the judiciary is, without question, an essential element of a functioning democracy. In recognition of this, ample provision is made in the highest law of our country, the Constitution, to engender an environment in which the courts are able to fulfil their public responsibility with total acceptance.
As part of this protective apparatus, judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal are assured of security of tenure by the provision that “they shall not be removed except by an order of the President made after an address of Parliament supported by a majority of the total number of members of Parliament, (including those not present), has been presented to the President for such removal on the ground of proved misbehaviour or incapacity”[Article 107(2)]. Since this assurance holds good for the entirety of tenure, it follows that the age of retirement should be defined with certainty. This is done by the Constitution itself by the provision that “the age of retirement of judges of the Supreme Court shall be 65 years and of judges of the Court of Appeal shall be 63 years”[Article 107(5)].
II. A Proposal for Reform
This provision has been in force ever since the commencement of the Constitution. Significant public interest, therefore, has been aroused by the lead story in a newspaper, Anidda of 13 March, that the government is proposing to extend the term of office of judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal by a period of two years.
This proposal, if indeed it reflects the thinking of the government, is deeply disturbing from the standpoint of policy, and gives rise to grave consequences. The courts operating at the apex of the judicial structure are called upon to do justice between citizens and also between the state and members of the public. It is an indispensable principle governing the administration of justice that not the slightest shadow of doubt should arise in the public mind regarding the absolute objectivity and impartiality with which the courts approach this task.
What is proposed, if the newspaper report is authentic, is to confer on judges of two particular courts, the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal, a substantial benefit or advantage in the form of extension of their years of service. The question is whether the implications of this initiative are healthy for the administration of justice.
III. Governing Considerations of Policy
What is at stake is a principle intuitively identified as a pillar of justice.
Reflecting firm convictions, the legal antecedents reiterate the established position with remarkable emphasis. The classical exposition of the seminal standard is, of course, the pronouncement by Lord Hewart: “It is not merely of some importance, but is of fundamental importance that justice should not only be done, but should manifestly and undoubtedly be seen to be done”. (Rex v. Sussex Justices, ex parte McCarthy). The underlying principle is that perception is no less important than reality. The mere appearance of partiality has been held to vitiate proceedings: Dissanayake v. Kaleel. In particular, reasonableness of apprehension in the mind of the parties to litigation is critical: Ranjit Thakur v. Union of India, a reasonable likelihood of bias being necessarily fatal (Manak Lal v. Prem Chaud Singhvi).
The overriding factor is unshaken public confidence in the judiciary: State of West Bengal v. Shivananda Pathak. The decision must be “demonstrably” (Saleem Marsoof J.) fair. The Bar Association of Sri Lanka has rightly declared: “The authority of the judiciary ultimately depends on the trust reposed in it by the people, which is sustained only when justice is administered in a visibly fair manner”.
Credibility is paramount in this regard. “Justice has to be seen to be believed” (J.B. Morton). Legality of the outcome is not decisive; process is of equal consequence. Judicial decisions, then, must withstand public scrutiny, not merely legal technicality: Mark Fernando J. in the Jana Ghosha case. Conceived as continuing vitality of natural justice principles, these are integral to justice itself: Samarawickrema J. in Fernando v. Attorney General. Institutional integrity depends on eliminating even the appearance of partiality (Mandal Vikas Nigam Ltd. v. Girja Shankar Pant), and “open justice is the cornerstone of our judicial system”: (Sahara India Real Estate Corporation Ltd. v. SEBI).
IV. Practical Constraints
Apart from these compelling considerations of policy, there are practical aspects which call for serious consideration. The effect of the proposal is that, among all judges operating at different levels in the judicature of Sri Lanka, judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal only, to the exclusion of all other judges, are singled out as the beneficiaries of the proposal. An inevitable result is that High Court and District Judges and Magistrates will find their avenues of promotion seriously impeded by the unexpected lengthening of the periods of service of currently serving judges in the two apex courts. Consequently, they will be required to retire at a point of time appreciably earlier than they had anticipated to relinquish judicial office because the prospect of promotion to higher courts, entailing higher age limits for retirement, is precipitately withdrawn. Some degree of demotivation, arising from denial of legitimate expectation, is therefore to be expected.
A possible response to this obvious problem is a decision to make the two-year extension applicable to all judicial officers, rather than confining it to judges of the two highest courts. This would solve the problem of disillusionment at lower levels of the judiciary, but other issues, clearly serious in their impact, will naturally arise.
Public service structures, to be equitable and effective, must be founded on principles of non-discrimination in respect of service conditions and related matters. Arbitrary or invidious treatment is destructive of this purpose. In determining the age of retirement of judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal, some attention has been properly paid to balance and consistency. The age of retirement of a Supreme Court judge is on par with that applicable to university professors and academic staff in the higher education system. They all retire at 65 years. Members of the public service, generally, retire at 60. Medical specialists retire at 63, with the possibility of extension in special circumstances to 65. The age of retirement for High Court Judges is 61, and for Magistrates and District Judges 60. It may be noted that the policy change in 2022 aimed at specifically addressing the issue of uniformity and compatibility.
If, then, an attempt is made to carve out an ad hoc principle strictly limited to judicial officers, not admitting of a self-evident rationale, the question would inevitably arise whether this is fair by other categories of the public service and whether the latter would not entertain a justifiable sense of grievance.
This is not merely a moral or ethical issue relating to motivation and fulfillment within the public service, but it could potentially give rise to critical legal issues. It is certainly arguable that the proposed course of action represents an infringement of the postulate of equality of treatment, and non-discrimination, enshrined in Article 12(1) of the Constitution.
There would, as well, be the awkward situation that this issue, almost certain to be raised, would then have to be adjudicated upon by the Supreme Court, itself the direct and exclusive beneficiary of the impugned measure.
V. Piecemeal Amendment or an Overall Approach?
If innovation on these lines is contemplated, would it not be desirable to take up the issue as part of the new Constitution, which the government has pledged to formulate and enact, rather than as a piecemeal amendment at this moment to the existing Constitution? After all, Chapter XV, dealing with the Judiciary, contains provisions interlinked with other salient features of the Constitution, and an integrated approach would seem preferable.
VI. Conclusion
In sum, then, it is submitted that the proposed change is injurious to the institutional integrity of the judiciary and to the prestige and stature of judges, and that it should not be implemented without full consideration of all the issues involved.
By Professor G. L. Peiris
D. Phil. (Oxford), Ph. D. (Sri Lanka);
Former Minister of Justice, Constitutional Affairs and National Integration;
Quondam Visiting Fellow of the Universities of Oxford, Cambridge and London;
Former Vice-Chancellor and Emeritus Professor of Law of the University of Colombo.
Features
Ranked 134th in Happiness: Rethinking Sri Lanka’s development through happiness, youth wellbeing and resilience
In recent years, Sri Lanka has experienced a succession of overlapping challenges that have tested its resilience. Cyclone Ditwah struck Sri Lanka in November last year, significantly disrupting the normal lives of its citizens. The infrastructure damage is much more serious than the tsunami. According to World Bank reports and preliminary estimates, the losses amounted to approximately US$ 4.1 billion, nearly 4 per cent of the country’s Gross Domestic Product. Before taking a break from that, the emerging crisis in the Middle East has once again raised concerns about potential economic repercussions. In particular, those already affected by disasters such as Cyclone Ditwah risk falling “from the frying pan into the fire,” facing multiple hardships simultaneously. Currently, we see fuel prices rising, four-day workweeks, a higher cost of living, increased pressure on household incomes, and a reduction in the overall standard of living for ordinary citizens. It would certainly affect people’s happiness. As human beings, we naturally aspire to live happy and fulfilling lives. At a time when the world is increasingly talking about happiness and wellbeing, the World Happiness Report provides a useful way of looking at how countries are doing. The World Happiness Report discusses global well-being and offers strategies to improve it. The report is produced annually with contributions from the University of Oxford’s Wellbeing Research Centre, Gallup, the UN Sustainable Development Solutions Network, and other stakeholders. There are many variables taken into consideration for the index, including the core measure (Cantril Ladder) and six explanatory variables (GDP per Capita ,Social Support,Healthy Life Expectancy,Freedom to Make Life Choices,Generosity,Perceptions of Corruption), with a final comparison.
According to the recently published World Happiness Report 2026, Sri Lanka ranks 134th out of 147 nations. As per the report, this is the first time that Sri Lanka has suffered such a decline. Sri Lanka currently trails behind most of its South Asian neighbours in the happiness index. The World Happiness Report 2026 attributes Sri Lanka’s low ranking (134th) to a combination of persistent economic struggles, social challenges, and modern pressures on younger generations. The 2026 report specifically noted that excessive social media use is a growing factor contributing to declining life satisfaction among young people globally, including in Sri Lanka. This calls for greater vigilance and careful reflection. These concerns should be examined alongside key observations, particularly in the context of education reforms in Sri Lanka, which must look beyond their immediate scope and engage more meaningfully with the country’s future.
In recent years, a series of events has triggered political upheaval in countries such as Nepal, characterised by widespread protests, government collapse, and the emergence of interim administration. Most reports and news outlets described this as “Gen Z protests.” First, we need to understand what Generation Z is and its key attributes. Born between 1997 and 2012, Generation Z represents the first truly “digital native” generation—raised not just with the internet, but immersed in it. Their lives revolve around digital ecosystems: TikTok sets cultural trends, Instagram fuels discovery, YouTube delivers learning, and WhatsApp sustains peer communities. This constant, feed-driven engagement shapes not only how they consume content but how they think, act, and spend. Tech-savvy and socially aware, Gen Z holds brands to a higher standard. For them, authenticity, transparency, and accountability—especially on environmental and ethical issues—aren’t marketing tools; they’re baseline expectations. We can also observe instances of them becoming unnecessarily arrogant in making quick decisions and becoming tools of some harmful anti-social ideological groups. However, we must understand that any generation should have proper education about certain aspects of the normal world, such as respecting others, listening to others, and living well. More interestingly, a global survey by the McKinsey Health Institute, covering 42,083 people across 26 countries, finds that Gen Z reports poorer mental health than older cohorts and is more likely to perceive social media as harmful.
Youth health behaviour in Sri Lanka reveals growing concerns in mental health and wellbeing. Around 18% of youth (here, school-going adolescents aged 13-17) experience depression, 22.4% feel lonely, and 11.9% struggle with sleep due to worry, with issues rising alongside digital exposure. Suicide-related risks are significant, with notable proportions reporting thoughts, plans, and attempts, particularly among females. Bullying remains a significant concern, particularly among males, with cyberbullying emerging as a notable issue. At the same time, substance use is increasing, including tobacco, smokeless tobacco, and e-cigarettes. These trends highlight the urgent need for targeted interventions to support youth mental health, resilience, and healthier behavioural outcomes in Sri Lanka. We need to create a forum in Sri Lanka to keep young people informed about this. Sri Lanka can designate a date (like April 25th) as a National Youth Empowerment Day to strengthen youth mental health and suicide prevention efforts. This should be supported by a comprehensive, multi-sectoral strategy aligned with basic global guidelines. Key priorities include school-based emotional learning, counselling services, and mental health training for teachers and parents. Strengthening data systems, reducing access to harmful means, and promoting responsible media reporting are essential. Empowering families and communities through awareness and digital tools will ensure this day becomes a meaningful national call to action.
As discussed earlier, Sri Lanka must carefully understand and respond to the challenges arising from its ongoing changes. Sri Lanka should establish an immediate task force comprising responsible stakeholders to engage in discussions on ongoing concerns. Recognising that it is not a comprehensive solution, the World Happiness Index can nevertheless act as an important indicator in guiding a paradigm shift in how we approach education and economic development. For a country seeking to reposition itself globally, Sri Lanka must adopt stronger, more effective strategies across multiple sectors. Building a resilient and prosperous future requires sound policymaking and clear strategic direction.
(The writer is a Professor in Management Studies at the Open University of Sri Lanka. You can reach Professor Abeysekera via nabey@ou.ac.lk)
by Prof. Nalin Abeysekera
Features
Hidden diversity in Sri Lanka’s killifish revealed: New study reshapes understanding of island’s freshwater biodiversity
A groundbreaking new study led by an international team of scientists, including Sri Lankan researcher Tharindu Ranasinghe, has uncovered striking genetic distinctions in two closely related killifish species—reshaping long-standing assumptions about freshwater biodiversity shared between Sri Lanka and India.
Published recently in Zootaxa, the research brings together leading ichthyologists such as Hiranya Sudasinghe, Madhava Meegaskumbura, Neelesh Dahanukar and Rajeev Raghavan, alongside other regional experts, highlighting a growing South Asian collaboration in biodiversity science.
For decades, scientists debated whether Aplocheilus blockii and Aplocheilus parvus were in fact the same species. But the new genetic analysis confirms they are “distinct, reciprocally monophyletic sister species,” providing long-awaited clarity to their taxonomic identity.
Speaking to The Island, Ranasinghe said the findings underscore the hidden complexity of Sri Lanka’s freshwater ecosystems.
“What appears superficially similar can be genetically very different,” he noted. “Our study shows that even widespread, common-looking species can hold deep evolutionary histories that we are only now beginning to understand.”
A tale of two fishes
The study reveals that Aplocheilus blockii is restricted to peninsular India, while Aplocheilus parvus occurs both in southern India and across Sri Lanka’s lowland wetlands.
Despite their close relationship, the two species show clear genetic separation, with a measurable “genetic gap” distinguishing them. Subtle physical differences—such as the pattern of iridescent scales—also help scientists tell them apart.
Co-author Sudasinghe, who has led several landmark studies on Sri Lankan freshwater fishes, noted that such integrative approaches combining genetics and morphology are redefining taxonomy in the region.
Echoes of ancient land bridges
The findings also shed light on the ancient biogeographic links between Sri Lanka and India.
Scientists believe that during periods of low sea levels in the past, the two landmasses were connected by the now-submerged Palk Isthmus, allowing freshwater species to move between them.
Later, rising seas severed this connection, isolating populations and driving genetic divergence.
“These fishes likely dispersed between India and Sri Lanka when the land bridge existed,” Ranasinghe said. “Subsequent isolation has resulted in the patterns of genetic structure we see today.”
Meegaskumbura emphasised that such patterns are increasingly being observed across multiple freshwater fish groups in Sri Lanka, pointing to a shared evolutionary history shaped by geography and climate.
A deeper genetic divide
One of the study’s most striking findings is that Sri Lankan populations of A. parvus are genetically distinct from those in India, with no shared haplotypes between the two regions.
Dahanukar explained that this level of differentiation, despite relatively recent geological separation, highlights how quickly freshwater species can diverge when isolated.
Meanwhile, Raghavan pointed out that these findings reinforce the importance of conserving habitats across both countries, as each region harbours unique genetic diversity.
Implications for conservation
The study carries important implications for conservation, particularly in a country like Sri Lanka where freshwater ecosystems are under increasing pressure from development, pollution, and climate change.
Ranasinghe stressed that understanding genetic diversity is key to protecting species effectively.
“If we treat all populations as identical, we risk losing unique genetic lineages,” he warned. “Conservation planning must recognise these hidden differences.”
Sri Lanka is already recognised as a global biodiversity hotspot, but studies like this suggest that its biological richness may be even greater than previously thought.
A broader scientific shift
The research also contributes to a growing body of work by scientists such as Sudasinghe and Meegaskumbura, challenging traditional assumptions about species distributions in the region.
Earlier studies often assumed that many freshwater fish species were shared uniformly between India and Sri Lanka. However, modern genetic tools are revealing a far more complex picture—one shaped by ancient geography, climatic shifts, and evolutionary processes.
“We are moving from a simplistic view of biodiversity to a much more nuanced understanding,” Ranasinghe said. “And Sri Lanka is proving to be a fascinating natural laboratory for this kind of research.”
Looking ahead
The researchers emphasise that much remains to be explored, with several freshwater fish groups in Sri Lanka still poorly understood at the genetic level.
For Sri Lanka, the message is clear: beneath its rivers, tanks, and wetlands lies a largely untapped reservoir of evolutionary history.
As Ranasinghe puts it:
“Every stream could hold a story of millions of years in the making. We are only just beginning to read them.”
By Ifham Nizam
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