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Joining in Psychosocial work back home in Sri Lanka

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(Excerpted from Memories that linger…..My journey in the world of disability by Padmani Mendis)

When my memories come back to Sri Lanka they call out urgently, “Remember first the Psychosocial Project!” For the PSP was unique. It was implemented during the long conflict for our people affected by it in the northern and eastern parts of our country. Led by Gameela Samarasinghe and Ananda Galapatti with Harini Amarasuriya, Kusala Wettasinghe and others.

Later, but still also during the conflict, with some of these and other committed psychosocial workers memories of meeting needs this time of our “Ranaviru” or disabled soldiers. This was with the Ranaviru Seva Authority, RVSA, under the chairmanship of Dr. Narme Wickramasinghe with the able assistance of Dr. Visakha Dissanayake. The RVSA worked in the areas where our armed forces came from.

Within both the PSP and the RVSA I had the privilege of being invited to work with our psychosocial workers to see to the disability needs of civilians in the first project and of members of our armed forces in the second with whom they interacted. Those were difficult times for our people, but as always, our young professionals stepped forward to serve their fellow country women and men.

Introducing Community-based Rehabilitation to the NGO Sector in Sri Lanka

To continue with memories of my journey, I have to go back now to the year 1979 and the month of August, when I returned home after my first assignment for the WHO in Geneva. Whilst I was carrying out my task participating with so many others in the global development of the concept, strategy and technology of CBR (Community Based Rehabilitation), my thoughts were constantly of how these would fit so well in Sri Lanka to benefit our disabled people.

So, no sooner I returned to Colombo, I made an appointment to meet the Deputy Leader of the NGO Sarvodaya, which in Sri Lanka has been the most well-known NGO in community development. The work of Sarvodaya was based on social mobilisation, just as CBR is. I had come to know Mrs. Sita Rajasooriya when she was a Commissioner in the Girl Guide Movement and I was a teenage girl guide.

Over a chat about what I had been doing in Geneva, I gave her a copy of the WHO Manual and asked her whether she would look at it. She called me a year or so later to tell me that Sarvodaya was implementing a CBR Project in the district of Kalutara in the Western province. I have been there and elsewhere with Sarvodaya several times, visiting with them their people in their homes.

Over the next several years, other NGOs called on me to help them start implementing CBR in many parts of Sri Lanka – Fridsro in Kandy in the Central province, Navajeevana in Tangalle in the Southern province and SEED (Social, Economic and Educational Developers) in Vavuniya in the Northern province were some of the larger ones. All the projects had funding partnerships with outside donors. With evidence of visible and measurable impact, projects grew. In the long-term however potential growth was sometimes stunted by limited funding.

I shall come back to Fridsro later and its relationship with Government CBR programmes under the leadership of Gihan Galekotuwa. Fridsro sans Gihan Galekotuwa has now had to fade out of the realm of disability due to unavailability of sponsorship.

Sarvodaya, Navajeevana and SEED led respectively by Dr. A.T. Ariyaratne, and later his son Vinya, the late Kumarini Wikramasuriya and Ponnambalam Narasingham, together with many other NGOs continue their work in disability promoting CBR. The last of the three named above gave his formal name reluctantly when I asked him just now on the telephone, emphasising that he preferred being called “Singham”. This is what I had always known him by.

Time spent with these organisations so long ago are among my most memorable. With SEED it was focused on teaching their staff. SEED had been within sight of the conflict. We used for teaching the top floor of their three-storey building with a roof made of green metal sheets. Made the room very, very warm. But the breeze that wafted through its open sides compensated somewhat.

Here we had some of the most participatory of my teaching sessions in Sri Lanka. SEED staff were active, interested, motivated. Both the heat generated in the atmosphere and that in debate called for frequent ice breakers. These were innovative and enjoyable. But mostly I sat out, needing for myself a mental and physical break from all that dynamism around me.

The only hotel in Vavuniya was filled to capacity with families from the North fleeing the conflict. I stayed there only once. Having to jump over a smelly open sewer made so by disrepair to get into the hotel was off-putting. The disrepair extended to the inside of the hotel because such was the time. Compensating for this the management was concerned and kind, and had found for me a small room with many stairs to climb to get to it. I had all my meals here in my room because there was no other place for it. It was simply furnished with a bed, desk and chair.

There was no kitchen either and the hotel bought me my food from outside. An upset tummy on a few occasions indicated to me that I should find other lodgings next time. So on my following visits, SEED found for me a convent to stay at. Here, living with nuns, I felt cherished. I was their first paying guest. They were truly beautiful with their warmth and their empathy.

Other Experiences with NGOs

Many years later, and still during the long conflict, I was back North again twice on my journey. The first time I was in Jaffna. It was with Save the Children Fund (SCF), UK. They sent me so I could advise them how they could include actions for disabled children within their Northern programme.

Much of Jaffna district at the time was under the control of the Tamil Tigers. SCF had to obtain special permission for me to come to Jaffna, which, it turned out, they did quite easily. I believe it was easy because someone had got my name wrong. On the letter granting permission it was written “Pathmini”, the way it is in Tamil. I was given permission to travel anywhere I needed. I was not even stopped at checkpoints. Everywhere I went, it seemed as though I was expected.

The next work assignment in the North at this time included coming back to Vavuniya. I was here with Hameed of UNICEF as part of a series of teaching assignments I did to introduce to district and divisional officials issues related to disability in children. And to discuss with them how they may deal with such issues during the course of their work, so attempting to include childhood disability in development strategies during this time of conflict.

The series also covered Puttalam, Mannar and Trincomalee, stretching out across our island. As far as I know, those workshops were never followed up. I hope the seed had been planted in many an interested mind and would have taken root in some. It was a difficult time for all.

Before my memories of the NGO sector move on, there is another that asks for recall. Save the Children Fund, UK showed much concern for disabled children, making their work inclusive to the extent possible. With that in mind, they had me develop for them in partnership with teachers, parents, children and others, “A Guide for Preschool Teachers”. SCF had it published in all three languages and it was widely used, especially in CBR. It helped bring into the preschool mainstream many young children at an early age. This was a task that gave me much satisfaction.

This was soon after the Tsunami of 2006. Looking back, it is clear that activities of the International NGOs at this time was at a peak. Sri Lanka was the beneficiary of generous help from a caring world.

How CBR came to be in government

Dudley Dissanayake was the Director of the School of Social Work managed by the Department of Social Services. This was located on Bagatalle Road in a two-storied house. Rent was paid for by Government. One day I received a call from Dudley asking if we could meet. We met the next day. He told me about the reason for his call.

He said that quite recently he had found in the back seat of the pick-up truck that he drove, a photocopy of a book. He did not know how it had got there, but his staff shared the use of the pick-up truck. They used this also to transport students for official tasks.

The book had been made by WHO and was about disabled people. It had my name on the cover along with two others. Dudley wanted to know what it was about. I was of course only too happy to share with him the work I was doing in Geneva with my colleagues Gunnel Nelson and Einar Helander and with innumerable others spread throughout many countries.

This was now 1981 which the UN had declared as the “International Year of the Disabled”. It was customary for the UN to do such things on subjects that they felt required the attention of member states. To mark its significance, Dudley felt that students of social work should have an exposure with disabled people and disability. We discussed how this could be done.

The result was that two students expressed their wish to carry out their final year project study testing the usefulness of the Manual in Sri Lanka. Dudley asked me if I could help them, and I believe I was fortunate to be able to do so. I said that first I would have the Manual translated into Sinhala.

For this purpose, I obtained the willing help of two physiotherapists, formerly favourite students. By name Wettimuny Silva and Somadasa Mohettige. While they did the translation in their own homes in the evenings after work, we met at my dining table in my home in Swarna Road for joint sessions which, as you can imagine, were called for quite often. We had the Sinhala Manual ready in no time. Wetta and Some, as their friends called them, and I maintain the bond we established at that time and continue our friendship.

First Field Tests in Sri Lanka

Dudley had the necessary photocopies made. I was soon walking the two villages of Meegolla and Kahandawelipotha in the Kurunegala district with the two students of social work. They had selected between them 20 children who had disability all under the age of 14 years. At the end of the six months of the project, 19 of the 20 showed improvements. Some of those children still live vividly in my memory.

One was Mala, aged eight years, who had cerebral palsy. Her mother cared for her with utmost love. She bathed, dressed and fed Mala in the morning and sat her on a chair at a window. Mala spent her day watching passers-by on the road.

That was until the two students of social work came into their lives. Soon Mala was learning to walk using bars her father made in the garden using long bamboos. She was helping her mother in the kitchen. Children from the neighbourhood came to her house to play with her. Hopefully in a few months she would go to the village school. The students arranged for the local social service worker to come to see Mala. The social service worker will get a wheelchair for Mala.

Another was 11-year-old Nandani. She too did not go to school. Her parents could not see how she could do that, seeing she could not speak. But she could hear. Like Ntchadi in faraway Serowe in Botswana, she too looked on longingly when her young siblings went to school. Counselling from the students, an appointment with the principal and the education officer and Nandani was in school.

When we visited the school before the project ended, Nandani was already showing signs of leadership in the classroom. She was a bright girl. She will surely catch up with her peers before long.

Dudley shared with UNICEF Colombo the study and the results of the work of the students. He was able to secure from UNICEF formal support for the development of CBR as project studies for a number of his students over the next few years. But within three years UNICEF, with the Department of Social Work and the help of students, started a large CBR project in Anuradhapura district.

In time Dudley, climbing the administrative ladder step by step reached the Ministry of Social Welfare. It was first as Senior Assistant Secretary, then as Additional Secretary, and finally reached the peak as Secretary of the Ministry. Dudley took CBR there with him. Dudley had the Manual translated into Tamil and introduced its extended use in the North. From then on CBR grew within Government with generous allocations directly from the national budget.

Disability Studies Unit – Early Years in Sri Lanka

I shared with you in the section above how the University of Kelaniya, in 1993 with support from Sweden, set up the Disability Studies Unit or DSU and of my role in it. I also continued in that section to share with you my journey in disability during my time there, focusing on aspects of international work. This is a suitable time perhaps to reflect on my journey with the DSU in Sri Lanka.

It was Anoja Wijeyesekera, at the time a Programme Officer at UNICEF Colombo who introduced the DSU to the Ministry of Social Welfare. Viji Jegarasasingham was the Additional Secretary at the time. Mrs. J. was one dynamic lady with a mission. That mission was to ensure the effective functioning of her ministry and other institutions under her purview. She was later promoted as Secretary and held that post for many years until her retirement from Government service.

Viji Jegarajasingham, our Mrs J., set up within the Ministry a Resource Group on CBR with just five of us as members. One of them was Gihan Galekotuwa or Gale who was then the Disability Programme Head at the NGO Fridsro. Our Resource Group strengthened the relationship in disability work between this ministry and that of health and of employment. This was with the aim of planting the seed of multi-sectoral cooperation to benefit disabled people with a wider perspective of their rights.

Gale was convinced that CBR was the way to go if the rights of disabled children and adults were to be fulfilled with their inclusion and participation in their communities and in society at large. Fridsro had developed their CBR capacity by implementing CBR themselves in parts of the Central Province where they were located. Starting in Poojapitya Division and spreading to 11 others in the Kandy district. These were developed as learning and teaching areas.

Gale soon had Fridsro draw up an MOU with the Ministry of Social Welfare to provide technical and other support to the Ministry to improve their CBR programme both in quality and in coverage. This agreement and action continued for many years, even after I was no longer at the DSU.

Within a few years many disabled children and adults spread out in most of Sri Lanka’s districts had been reached. A change was being brought about in their lives, families and communities. Monitored continuously and evaluated at intervals by Fridsro.

Working with me at the DSU was Somadasa Kodikara, a former student of mine at the School of Physiotherapy. Representing the DSU “Kodi” and I worked with the Ministry and with Fridsro as a threesome to reach disabled people in more than 50% of Sri Lanka’s districts during those few years. The DSU had roles in both teaching and in monitoring. We soon learned that Sri Lanka government workers were loath to submit written reports. As for us, we were happy monitoring through field visits. For us it was any excuse to go to the people.

During our years together at the DSU, Kodi and I continued to evaluate the WHO Manual in the two languages with periodic revisions and continuous improvement. Fridsro provided financial support for publishing them in both languages for field use. Kodi and I also produced and published through the DSU much teaching-learning material for both community workers and for their divisional and district supervisors.

Soon after the DSU was born, we were invited to link up with the Global Disability Database maintained jointly by Uppsala University and AHRTAG in London. Before I left the DSU in 1998, we had an agreement drawn up with the International Health Unit of London University and the Hospital for Children, Great Ormond Street to start the Education of Speech and Language Therapists or SLTs.

. The DSU has come a long way. And it will continue its own journey as it grows unendingly.



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Features

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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