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Imran, a baby born without arms and Ayu, a teen with Down’s Syndrome

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Exploring Geneva with my colleagues

(Excerpted from Memories that linger: My journey is the world of disability by Padmani Mendis

My responsibility (in Malaysia) was to facilitate two training courses. One was five weeks long and was for social welfare assistants and other officers from the district who will initiate CBR here in this part of Kuala Terengganu. The second of the courses was for two weeks and was for social welfare officers from other selected states as well. Participants of this second course will be responsible for planning and developing CBR projects in their own states. We discussed how monitoring and evaluation could be carried out as a continuous process during project development and the material in the Manual for measuring these.

All through my three-month assignment I had as my national counterpart a Social Welfare Officer from the Training Division of the Ministry of Social Welfare. She was an experienced trainer and we shared our teaching tasks. When I left, I was confident that she will be quite capable of carrying out the training function that we had carried out during our time together. The Secretary of the Ministry in Kuala Lumpur and that of the State took personal responsibility to ensure the CBR programme will benefit their disabled people.

In Batu Rakit, the work that was started during the training course blended with field work. In both courses it was possible to spend much time in field learning and teaching. We met community leaders in Batu Rakit for mobilisation. We also made visits to the homes of people who were in need of interventions. Many children were not going to school. Some immediate improvement was evident soon after starting CBR. Two children started going to kindergarten. Others who had been isolated before were participating with the family, going visiting together and so on. Many showed functional improvement.

The seed had been sown. How would it grow?

Two disabled individuals and another family stand out in my mind from those that we visited. One was a baby boy called Imran, six months of age. Imran had been born without both arms. He was not sitting up by himself as yet and spent most of his time lying on his mat and cooing. His mother appeared not to know quite what to do. We talked with her and introduced to her the possibility of teaching Imran to use his feet as his hands.

She welcomed the idea. His mother propped him up with pillows and gave him the toys that lay around him to hold. Imran soon caught the idea. It is of course natural that babies should do so. It is just that the mother either had not thought of the possibility, or did not want him to use his feet for some reason.

When we returned a few days later we found his sisters playing with Imran with great fun and making lots of noise; they were throwing back and forth a colourful cloth ball. Other playthings lay around on the floor. The Social Welfare Assistants taught Imran’s mother how to use the package on play activities from the Manual to take his development further. They taught her to assess at which stage of development Imran was at in areas such as communication, movement and so on. Then they showed her how to select corresponding play activities from the Manual to take him to the next level of development.

We visited Imran once more before I left. He was now sitting up on his own. And he was discovering with joy what a lot he could do with his feet. Later he would stand, walk and run about with neighbourhood playmates like any child would. He would go to school and out on trips with his family. Grow up to be an independent young man. He may now be in the fourth decade of his life. Where are you now Imran? How are you doing?

The second individual was Ayu, a young girl of fifteen years. She had Down’s Syndrome with some intellectual impairment and difficulty in learning. Here the mother cared for Ayu completely not letting Ayu do anything by herself, including washing, bathing and all other self-care activities. Ayu never went out of the house. We talked with both mother and daughter who were alone at home at that time. Ayu talked with us and responded to us shyly. We asked her whether she would like to be able to feed herself so her mother could do something else at that time. She nodded her head happily. The Social Welfare Assistants talked for some time with mother and daughter. They talked about going out to meet neighbours.

After explaining to them about it, the Social Welfare Assistants left relevant material from the WHO Manual for the mother and daughter. They asked them to look at it and see if they could do some of the things that were suggested. When we went back in five days the mother was preparing the family meal. Ayu was sitting with her in the kitchen cleaning vegetables. The mother said that Ayu was helping her now with simple tasks. The mother took Ayu out to the village – Ayu had gone with her to a meeting of the women’s group the previous day. Ayu had been very happy and the women had talked a lot with her.

The third I recall is of visits to a family. A home we visited quite early on in the programme. When we entered, we found the family ready to receive us. The mother, father and with them, three young children. The two older children lay on mats while a younger child was sitting up. All three were boys. All three had a progressive muscular condition. All three had gone to school but as each reached the age of ten to eleven they had dropped out because they could no longer move independently. Now the older two had to be fed, washed and clothed. The youngest needed assistance. We talked with the family for a while. The biggest problem I saw here was that the family was completely isolated with no help and no social support.

Afterwards, I discussed with the Social Welfare Assistants what they would do to improve the situation of the boys and the family. I visited this family again before I left. The mother, along with the three boys, greeted us with a smile. She said her husband had been found work with a farmer. She herself no longer felt alone because her neighbours and even the community leaders visited her. She had made two special friends in whom she could confide. One would sometimes stay with the boys so she could go out to visit family and friends.

Former school friends of the boys visited. They shared with her boys some of what they had learned at school. She felt what was important is that her boys now had friends with whom they could play and interact.

The Social Welfare Assistants were hoping to soon deliver three wheelchairs to the home so that the boys could be taken out into the kampong. So here, in the presence of severe disability, the therapy or the medical rehabilitation required by the boys was not available. But the social impact of CBR was remarkably evident.

Many are the stories of how a visit from a trained Community Worker could make such a difference to the quality of life of individuals and families living in somewhat different circumstances. How will Ayu’s life change with the visits from the Social Welfare Assistant and with interest taken by the women in the village? The Social Welfare Assistant planned to join a meeting of the women and then take Ayu to other activities in the village. Will this make a difference to other disabled people in the village as well as to Ayu? What will be the quality of life of the three boys? Time will tell.

Malay Houses

Although the rest house in which I lodged was made of brick and mortar, other houses in the Kampongs were stilt houses. Kampongs are what villages are called in Malaysia. Stilt houses are the traditional Malay architecture. Wooden houses built on thick strong pillars. There is a central pillar surrounded by may be by six to twelve pillars spaced around the periphery and some closer to the central pillar, depending on the size of the house. The roofs were also made of timber. They were high allowing for good ventilation in a humid climate. The walls of the houses in Batu Rakit were made of wood because that was plentiful. I was told that in some areas walls were made of bamboo. The space under the house was used for storage.

Houses were generally spaced out in large compounds. In their compounds owners had planted trees which they could use in twenty to thirty years to refurbish their houses. Or to extend a house when a child was getting married and needed a home. Extended families lived together, cooking together as one household. I was glad I had lived in Batu Rakit and experienced their traditional lifestyle when I visited their homes.

One entered the house on a wooden ladder. At night they took the ladder up to prevent small animals like rats and bandicoots from climbing into the house. I would not have experienced this traditional Malay architecture and lifestyle had I been confined to Kuala Lumpur as I was on subsequent visits to Malaysia.

Gunnel Nelson

Gunnel Nelson, my much-loved friend and travel companion on my CBR Journey passed away in July 1984. She met with a fatal car accident in Zambia while on an assignment for UNICEF. The assignment concerned improving the lives of disabled children. A cause that Gunnel was devoted to since she started working as an Occupational Therapist, and later as the Principal of the School of Occupational Therapy in Goteborg, Sweden.

With her sudden passing away CBR suffered an unexpected loss – the loss of a human being who would have hastened considerably improvement in the quality of life of disabled people in developing countries. She was firm in her beliefs and convictions with a rare ability to take action to realise them. Like her fellow-Swede Einar, she empathised with the poor and vulnerable and worked tirelessly to bring them social justice. Like Einar and me she was convinced that CBR would initiate changes required to bring disabled people that social justice.

Gunnel and I first met in Geneva in May 1979 when we came together at WHO to work with Einar on developing a strategy for implementing WHO’s new disability policy. Our work in CBR was targeted at enabling disabled people come out of their isolation and exclusion and be included and be participating members within their families and their communities.

Gunnel and I had similar but separate roles in this work. She travelled to certain countries and I to others. But in those all-too-brief five years that we worked together, we met regularly in Geneva and at meetings held in other parts of the world; meetings which brought people together to discuss the way forward for disabled people through CBR. Although the concept and implementation of the CBR system was pioneered in Geneva as a seed, nurturing the growth of it was a global effort involving too many countries to be counted at the time of her passing away.

Gunnel’s work flowed from Geneva like mine, with assisting countries to set up field trials of CBR. She visited first Nigeria in January 1980 for three months. A research project was set up jointly by the WHO Collaborating Centre for Research and Training in Orthopaedics in Lagos and the National Youth Service Corps. She followed this up with a visit in December of the same year.

Her next task was to set up a research project in Kerala, India in collaboration with the Department of Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation of the Medical College in Trivandrum. Her counterpart was Prof. P.B.M. Menon. Before starting on the project with Prof. Menon she visited the WHO South-East Regional Office in New Delhi for discussions. She also met other Rehabilitation Specialists first in New Delhi and then in Kerala to inform them and their institutions and seek their support for the project; and similarly, with the Ministry of Health in Kerala and other professorial staff at the Medical College in Trivandrum.

From Kerala, in November 1980 she proceeded to the Philippines to evaluate the progress made in the ongoing field trial of CBR and of the WHO Manual in the Rizal District of Metropolitan Manila. The project used Primary Health Care as an entry point with PHC workers who had been trained for two years. As in Bacolod City where the Philippines had their first experience of CBR, the urban project here commenced with an intensive information programme.

When we had an assignment in Geneva, Gunnel always drove down from Goteborg so that we had the use of her car in Geneva. Many a time she offered me the use of it. I told her I would not dare to drive in Europe. All those multi-lane high-speed highways and one-way road systems had me quite confused even sitting by her side as a passenger. In these circumstances, I could never be a navigator either.

It was not too difficult to find accommodation in Geneva for a period of three months. Sometimes we stayed separately, sometimes we shared an apartment. I recall how amused she was when once I stayed in a guest house run by the Salvation Army. I had selected it because it was located in the old city which I thought would be interesting.

It was. Only after I went into occupation did I know that it was maintained for retirees from the Red Light District not far away.

The ladies would come to breakfast in flimsy negligees with their faces made up as they would have been made up when they were employed. The trade was lawful in Geneva. The occupant of the room next to mine was quite elderly and confined to bed. She was looked after 24/7 by staff of the guest house. Still dressed in her flimsy negligees. Still with her face made up immaculately.

Most Saturdays we spent working. If we did not, I was out window shopping. On Sunday we would relax, driving out of Geneva. Sometimes we drove around the picturesque countryside of Switzerland through pretty mountain villages. In the spring and summer colourful wild flowers covered every available space on roadsides and spread up the mountainsides. But to me all this appeared to be organised just like all else in Switzerland. I felt that the flowers had been planted there by human hands. Not really wild. But of course they were wild. Just God’s wonders.

One Sunday we drove through the very old village of Gruyere famous for the cheese it produces. Outside this village high up in the Alps, fat and healthy cows were grazing on the mountain sides.

Other Sundays we drove in the French countryside. More often than not I had no French entry visa. But this was no obstacle for someone who knew the back roads where there were unmanned border posts. We would drive around and find a Michelin recommended restaurant to enjoy a late lunch.

On Sundays roads in France were deserted not just of vehicles, but there were no people to be seen either. When once I remarked on this to Einar he said to me, “Do you expect to see people as you would in your part of the world?” Sunday, for the French, was a day spent with one’s own family at home. For us, it was largely visiting extended family and friends. And catching up with the weekly marketing.

Gunnel and I enjoyed the food of foreign countries. In Geneva, after a long day of work, we indulged in dinner at different restaurants. One of our favourites was a Turkish restaurant popular for its Doner Kebab. Lamb grilled on the spit to perfection and served as slices as thin as paper.

In autumn as the weather became colder it was time for genuine Swiss Cheese Fondue – two or three special cheeses melting and blending together in a pot into which one would dip cubes of soft bread and pop them hot into one’s mouth. My favourite Swiss food was Raclette. Although here traditionally, the melting slices of cheese were served on potatoes, I preferred this on toasted bread. Eaten with pickled gherkins and onions.

Knowing my liking for steak, Einar would, on each one of our periods in Geneva, take Gunnel and me to enjoy a good French steak at the Café du Paris on the Rue du Mont Blanc in the centre of the city. Such a popular spot that we had always to stand in a queue to get in.

Before my first visit to Geneva in 1979 I did not drink wine. Associated this with alcohol. But dining out so often with those two Swedes, that habit soon changed. After some time I was persuaded to, “Just try it. Have a sip.” I enjoyed it so much that before the end of three months, I could drink three glasses of it with a meal. And feel no effects of it.Those days in Geneva were memorable – both for the work we did and for the enjoyment we had. I missed having Gunnel to work with. She still lives in my memory from day to day.



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Regime change and the vacuum:Strategic lessons of Iraq and Libya

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Post-Gaddafi Civil war: the rebellion triggered by the arab spring of 2011 soon toppled the regime of Muammar Gaddafi. the power vacuum created by Gaddafi’s ouster has been exploited by local actors, as well as extraneous actors, with the only intention of making libya a war theatre for proxy wars and political disintegration

by Col. (R) Nalin Herath

There is a question that the international community must periodically ask itself: What happens to a State after its regime has been ousted?

The question is particularly relevant when examining Iraq and Libya. Saddam Hussein and Muammar Gaddafi were authoritarian rulers. Their governments were associated with political repression, human-rights violations and the suppression of political opposition. None of this should be ignored or excused. But recognising the failures of authoritarian rule does not prevent us from asking another, equally important strategic question:

Did the removal of these regimes adequately prepare for what came next?

The experience of Iraq and Libya suggests that removing a ruler is considerably easier than replacing the political, administrative and security architecture around that ruler.

Danger of confusing regime change with State reconstruction

A state is more than its leader. It consists of institutions, security forces, civil servants, courts, political structures, infrastructure, economic systems and, perhaps most importantly, an accepted monopoly over the legitimate use of force. When an authoritarian system has concentrated enormous power around one individual, removing that individual can expose weaknesses that were previously hidden. The strategic mistake is to assume that once the dictator has gone, a democratic and stable state will naturally emerge. History does not support such an assumption. The aftermath of Iraq demonstrates this particularly clearly. Following the 2003 invasion, the Coalition Provisional Authority issued Order No. 2, formally dissolving the Iraqi Ministry of Defence and the Iraqi Army, among other security institutions. A US congressional report later documented the enormous consequences of this decision, including the disappearance of hundreds of thousands of military personnel from the institutional framework of the state. Whatever the intentions behind the decision, the strategic consequence was that an established security structure had to be rebuilt while the country was simultaneously experiencing political upheaval and growing violence. That is a dangerous combination.

Iraq: Removing the structure before building the replacement

Saddam Hussein’s government was unquestionably authoritarian. It also reflected a complicated sectarian and political structure in which members of the Sunni minority occupied disproportionate positions of power despite being a demographic minority. But the question for strategic planners should not simply be whether Saddam deserved to remain in power. The question should have been:

What institutional structure would replace the system once he was removed?

An army can be politically controlled without being politically representative. A bureaucracy can serve an authoritarian government while still providing essential state functions. A security institution can be reformed without necessarily being destroyed. The distinction between reforming institutions and eliminating institutions is therefore critical. The post-2003 experience demonstrated the consequences of institutional disruption. Security vacuums contributed to insurgency and instability, while the process of rebuilding Iraq’s security forces took place amid an increasingly deteriorating security environment. The lesson is not that authoritarian institutions should never be reformed. The lesson is that state capacity should not be casually destroyed without a credible replacement.

Libya: prosperity, authoritarianism and institutional fragility

Libya presents an even more complicated case. Gaddafi’s government was authoritarian and deeply personalised. Political freedom was severely restricted, and the security apparatus was deliberately structured around regime survival. Yet Libya, under Gaddafi, also used substantial oil revenues to fund education, healthcare, infrastructure and social services. World Bank data from around the end of the Gaddafi era show life expectancy reaching approximately 75 years by 2011, skilled attendance at birth at 100 percent and measles immunisation at 98 percent. This does not prove that Gaddafi’s system was politically legitimate. It demonstrates something different: economic and social outcomes can coexist with authoritarian political structures.

The Great Man-Made River illustrates the scale of Libya’s investment ambitions. The World Bank described the project as one of the world’s largest engineering schemes, involving thousands of kilometres of planned pipelines to transport water from deep desert aquifers toward the populated coastal belt. The original project was estimated at approximately US$ 25 billion over several phases. Again, this should not become nostalgia for dictatorship. It should become a lesson in state capacity.

What happened after Gaddafi?

The post-2011 experience is perhaps the clearest illustration of the vacuum problem. Libya did not simply move from dictatorship to a consolidated democratic state. Instead, competing armed groups, political factions and institutions emerged. A UN economic and social affairs analysis concluded that the fall of the Gaddafi regime exposed weak state institutions and that the post-Gaddafi period was characterised by the proliferation of armed militias and institutional fragmentation.

The World Bank has similarly described how the security vacuum allowed armed groups to expand, while attempts to integrate them into the formal security apparatus produced a hybrid system in which state institutions and powerful armed groups operated alongside one another. This is the heart of the lesson. The consequences of regime change were also evident in Libya. The 2012 Benghazi attack, later portrayed in 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi, illustrated the security vacuum that emerged after Gaddafi’s fall. The collapse of central authority allowed militias and competing armed groups to fill the space left by weakened state institutions. The lesson is clear: removing a regime may achieve military victory, but without a credible plan to rebuild the state, victory can quickly become a security vacuum.

When the state withdraws, something else occupies the space. If the replacement is not a legitimate national institution, the vacuum can be filled by militias, tribes, ideological movements, criminal networks or competing political authorities. The vacuum does not remain empty.

Terrorism question

There is another uncomfortable issue. Authoritarian regimes frequently suppress political and armed movements through coercive security systems. When those systems disappear abruptly, previously contained organisations can find new operating space. This does not mean that dictatorship is an appropriate method of counterterrorism. It means that counterterrorism cannot be separated from State capacity. The international community therefore needs to distinguish between defeating a particular terrorist organisation and maintaining the institutional conditions that prevent multiple armed actors from competing for power. The destruction of one regime does not automatically eliminate the forces that created insecurity. Sometimes it creates an environment in which those forces multiply.

Strategic mistake: winning the war but losing the peace

Military intervention can have a clearly defined operational objective. State reconstruction does not. A military campaign may successfully remove a government in weeks or months. Building legitimate institutions can take decades.This creates a fundamental strategic asymmetry. The shorter the planning horizon for intervention, the greater the danger of a long-term vacuum. The international community therefore needs to think beyond the first question: How do we remove the regime?

It must ask: Who governs the country the next morning? Who controls the borders? Who controls the security forces? Who pays government employees? Who maintains electricity, water and hospitals? Who protects critical infrastructure? Who administers justice? Who prevents armed groups from becoming alternative governments? Who provides political legitimacy? And perhaps most importantly: Who possesses the authority to enforce the decisions of the new state? If there are no convincing answers, regime change is only the beginning of the problem.

The lesson should not be that the United States or its allies should never intervene. Nor should it be that Saddam Hussein or Muammar Gaddafi should be rehabilitated as models of governance. The lesson is more practical. Regime change must never be confused with state-building.

Before dismantling an established political order, external powers need a credible understanding of the institutions that will replace it. Security-sector reform should normally distinguish between individuals who must be removed and institutions that must be preserved. A national army may need reform. A ministry may need restructuring. A security service may need accountability and civilian oversight. But destroying institutional capacity without having an operational replacement can create consequences far beyond the original objective.

Wider geopolitical lesson

The consequences of Iraq and Libya did not remain within their borders. State fragmentation affects neighbouring countries, migration, organised crime, arms trafficking, terrorism, energy markets and regional power competition. In today’s interconnected world, a failed transition in one country can become a security problem for an entire region. That is why intervention planning should include not only military objectives but also political, economic, humanitarian and security-sector objectives. The most important planning document may therefore not be the operational plan for removing the regime. It may be the plan for Day One after the regime has disappeared.

History should not be written as a simple choice between dictatorship and democracy. The real strategic challenge is more complicated. Saddam Hussein and Muammar Gaddafi were dictators. Their governments committed serious abuses, and their populations had legitimate grievances. But the failures of authoritarian rule do not automatically justify the destruction of state institutions without a credible plan for rebuilding them. The experience of Iraq and Libya demonstrates a fundamental principle of international security: A political vacuum is not neutral space. Someone will fill it. If legitimate national institutions cannot fill that space, armed groups, sectarian interests, extremist organisations or foreign-backed factions may do so. The ultimate lesson for the United States, its allies and the wider international community is therefore straightforward:

Removing a regime may win the immediate battle. Building a legitimate, functioning and secure state determines whether the intervention succeeds in the long term. The world should learn to ask not only “How do we remove the dictator?”. It must also ask:

“What happens to the country when he is gone?”

That may be the most important strategic question of all.

(The writer is the Secretary General of the Ceylon Chamber of Shipping, former Director General of the Institute of National Security Studies (INSS), and former Spokesman of the Ministry of Defence. He is also a Non-Resident Fellow at the London Dialogue. His areas of expertise include international relations, geopolitics, maritime affairs, national security, economic policy, and strategic governance. He is a consultant at JITT Group and a member of World Pace Board.).

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‘Death at the Sign of the Rook’

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Tales of Mystery and Suspense – 23

By Prof. Rajiva Wijesinha

As I have noted with regard to the adventures of John Rebus, I am indebted to Dinali Fernando and her husband Steve for whole hosts of thrillers. The latter strongly recommended Kate Atkinson when I borrowed four books. I wondered about this, for I had not been too impressed with her debut novel, Behind the Scenes at the Museum, which was amongst the entries I had to judge for the Eurasian section of the Commonwealth Writing Prize. Two decades later, I had forgotten what it had been about.

But I am glad Steve persuaded me to read her. Kate Atkinson is distinctively British, and Death at the Sign of the Rook is set in a country house and the surrounding village, and seems a modern descendant of the laidback Agatha Christies I so much enjoy.

There are, however, many differences in that we have a policeman who can go rogue, like Rebus, with again a female sidekick who has a mind of her own, again like Rebus. But Jackson Brodie has retired and set up as a private investigator, while Reggie, a young lady, is still in the police.

There is a lesbian couple living in the converted dairy of the manor house, as has occurred in Agatha Christie too, in A Murder is Announced. But they are peripheral to the story, unlike Ben, the brother of one of them who left the army after losing a leg in Afghanistan. When he turns up at the Manor House to shelter from a snowstorm, along with its chatelaine, Lady Milton, he is asked to answer the door as various characters turn up, including Jackson and Reggie, who then starts fantasising about him.

The others who turn up are two couples, one from America, who have paid for a murder weekend at the hotel. The family is impoverished, and has sold lots of pictures to survive, but most recently a Turner had been stolen, almost certainly by Lady Milton’s housekeeper Sophie, who vanished one night along with the picture. Reggie had been involved in that investigation, but there had been no trace of either picture or young lady.

Jackson Brodie suspects a connection between that theft and the one he has been called in to investigate, which has not been reported to the police. The picture hung opposite the bed of an old woman whose carer vanished after she died, along with it. Her children, adopted twins, have asked Jackson to investigate and also try to trace the carer, though he suspects something strange in that they did not go to the police.

Kate Atkinson

Brodie, in studying the stolen art, is also struck by the disappearance of a Rembrandt from a house in Scotland, along with a member of the cleaning staff. He thinks the three women might be the same one.

But Brodie’s assumption that the three women who vanished when valuable pictures did were identical would not have helped except that Beatrice, as she was also called, kept turning up, including to the funeral home where the old lady’s body was kept. And then that picture turned up, in the village church, and was found by the local vicar, Simon Cate, whose life story is also a prominent feature of the novel. He was an aspiring actor but then smitten by faith, and became a priest, but in time he lost his faith. His wife left him after the death of their son, and he is now in this backwater, where he feels he is of no use to anyone. But he has a great feel for living beings, and his most successful service has been one in which he blessed pets. And he was deeply concerned about the bees that Ben looks after for his sister and her wife.

He too staggers into the manor house in the midst of the storm, in which everyone concerned loses their way comprehensively. But amongst those Ben lets in is a man in a tracksuit with cuts and bruises, who then vanishes after he has been led to a bedroom, when Ben went in search of brandy. We soon work out that it is the escaped murderer about whom Reggie has been alerted.

Simon also turns up, through the back door, carrying the picture and also a gun, for he has found the dead body of one of his parishioners when he went to her house in search of his mobile phone. She had been shot and he had picked up the gun he found there. But he could not tell the police, for though he called he had lost his voice, and for the last few days had communicated only through writing.

This chaotic mix of characters at the manor house is further complicated by the group of players putting on the murder mystery play though some members have either cried off or died before reaching the venue. So, there is much doubling up and confusion over who is an actor and who is not.

The grand now largely empty rooms of the manor house, and its various odd passages and multiple doors, make it a splendid set for the lunacy that runs on and on. Reggie finds herself in a pantry Atkinsonwith a dead body, though this turns out to be the nanny who fell down the stairs and was put there by Lady Milton’s younger son. And there is high drama on the roof when the murderer nearly kills Ben, but he is saved by Reggie, and when he tries to kill Brody with an axe, he is shot by Beatrice, who has been the maid who served at the dinner before the murder mystery play, and explains to Brody how she has managed all her thefts.

And then in the melee, she vanishes on a motorbike, along with the daughter of the old lady’s adopted daughter, the only person who seemed to grieve at the funeral, and to whom the old lady had left her house in a codicil to her will, which her children have not known about. She leaves the picture to the carer, but it is brought to Simon Cate as he lies in hospital, recovering from a heart attack which adds confusion to the play.

Wonderfully convoluted, but all very clear, despite the headlong pace of the book and its shifts from one scene to another, from one character to another (or rather combinations of them) and from one-time span to another. A writer and a detective well worth looking out for. e more books by her on Dinali’s shelves.

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Safety, security and teamwork in aviation

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Indian Captain Smit Machchhar injured in the cockpit attack

by Capt. (Ret.).G.A. Fernando, MBA

There are three essential components to a commercial airline operation: safety, security and teamwork.

Aviation and teamwork at the ‘sharp’ end of a commercial aircraft, i.e. the flight deck, is unique. Unlike many other teams, it may be quite literally the first and the last time a particular combination of small teams of two, three, or four individual airmen (or women) will fly together. Sometimes even in the same airline that employs them.

Therefore, to make conditions safe and practical, while understanding and trusting tech other, they have to rely on a series of Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs), and ‘Normal’ and ‘Emergency’ checklists for every conceivable situation. That is, to be able to do the right things, and do things right. In fact, there is a saying in aviation to the effect that ‘if you make a mistake in aviation, be original and make a new one’.

To ensure that safety standards are constantly maintained, airline pilots’ proficiency is tested every six months, in simulators, under the supervision of examiners from the civil aviation regulator. In Sri Lanka that organisaton is the Civil Aviation Authority-Sri Lanka (CAASL). Three simulator checks are conducted every 12 months in keeping with the tenet that ‘practice makes perfect’. A pithy adage not confined to the world of aviation warns that ‘prior preparation prevents piss-poor performance’.

The simulator exercises include rejected takeoffs, including in cross-wind situations, landings, engine fires and/or engine failures from a variety of causes, cabin pressurisation failure, precision and non-precision approaches, and landings in bad visibility – amongst other conditions that could be expected in actual flight.

In addition, a flight in a real airplane, on a regular passenger service under the supervision of an examiner from the airline, is undertaken to ensure that the company’s standard practices and procedures are carried out and maintained as prescribed in the airline’s manuals. These publications are in turn approved by the national regulator.

Crash axe

Finally, flight crew members must take a written test annually, on emergency equipment locations and procedures, with 90% as the pass mark.

Since the mid-1980s it has been mandatory for airline pilots to undertake a Crew Resource Management (CRM) programme once every two years. This training essentially emphasises what to do and what not to do to, in a specific emergency situation, or even during normal operations, to make the team cohesive and effective. During the course, the CRM facilitators discuss recent incidents and accidents that have occurred. Results of those events are recorded and could be retrieved, when necessary, by the official aviation bodies.

Not unexpectedly, it is demanding on a pilot to fulfill these requirements on a regular basis throughout his/her career, along with presenting for a bi-annual medical examination, all with the objective of retaining one’s licence to operate an aircraft. It may not be understood, therefore, by persons outside the aviation industry, or even some working in other aspects of an airline organisation, that it is often the passion for flight that keeps many pilots doing what they do to earn a living.

Security

Another important factor is the challenge of maintaining security in all aspects of airline operations, not least in the cockpit. The challenges are many, with new ones surfacing almost every day. It is therefore essential to be always prepared for the activities and ‘methods’ of perpetrators seeking to wreak evil on an aircraft and its occupants. As it is impossible for any airline or national security organisation to cover all aspects, systematic management of risks to effect a safe outcome becomes imperative.

Flydubai Incident

In the recent Flydubai incident of 30 September, 2026, a first officer (co-pilot) attacked the captain of the flight with a crash axe to accomplish his sinister motives, into which investigations are continuing. For the time being, it prompts the questions: should the crash axe be easily accessible to the flight crew? Or even be there at all? I believe it is a case of assessing the greater risk.

With regard to that event, and the circumstances that led to it, other deterrents could have been applied more thoroughly. For example, more thorough screening of pilots’ and other crewpersons’ backgrounds, with emphasis on their mental health, ideological affiliations and previous employment history. Separately, during a time of conflict in the Middle East, should Flydubai have even been operating between Dubai and Tel Aviv? Notwithstanding that cost-cutting and profit maximisation are key aims of any business, an airline’s apparent failure to conduct adequate psychological profiling of flight crew members, while continuing to operate ‘profitable’ routes, regardless of potential danger, can only be regarded and condemned as greed and disregard for human lives.

( Captain. Fernando, RCyAF, SLAF, Air Ceylon, Air Lanka, Singapore Airlines (SIA), SriLankan Airlines, Former Chief Pilot, Air Lanka Boeing 737, Former Deputy Chief Pilot, Lockheed L 1011, Former Crew Resource Management (CRM) Facilitator, SIA, Former Deputy Director (Air Operations) CAASL, Former President, Aircraft Owners and Operators Association Sri Lanka (AOAOASL), President, The Colombo Flying Club, Representative for Aviation, Organisation of Professional Associations (OPA), Hony, and Member Sri Lanka Society of Transport and Logistics.)

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