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Ladies College Principal’s visit to my hospital and end of my nursing career

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General Hospital in Birmingham

Excerpted fro Memories That Linger…

.. by Padmani Mendis

(Continued from Apr. 9)

As soon as I was able to, I went into the city to the office of Thomas Cook.They were then one of the most popular travel agents globally. I could trust them because my mother had used them to arrange my sea voyage to England. I had heard about the English Lake District and how beautiful it was. That is where I wanted to go. Within a few days Thos. Cook planned for me a week’s holiday in Keswick. It was a small town in the heart of the Lake District and they believed it would suit me; they arranged my travel, booked a hotel for me and handed over to me all the relevant documents. My friend Val’s mother drove me to the New Street Railway Station in the city.

The two of them saw me and my suitcase safely on the train and waited on the platform to wave me goodbye. The train left at 11 p.m. I had to change trains at Carlisle way up in the north at 5 a.m. the next morning; the connecting train would take me to Keswick before 7 a.m. I had very few fellow passengers on both stretches of travel.
If I had told my mother of my plans beforehand she would have worried too much. So on my first day in Keswick I wrote and told her where I was and why. Not about how I got there. My travel agent had told me how to get to the hotel which was situated very close to the Railway Station.

I walked there and was shown my room. On my way to the hotel I had seen an unending stream of people, obviously holiday makers like me, walking purposefully in a certain direction. That made me curious. So as soon as I could I went back down to the street and joined them.We did not walk far before we were at a Lake – it was Lake Keswick. The stream of people was purchasing tickets and getting on a boat which was apparently to go round the lake, making stops on the way. I thought,“Looks interesting. Why not join them?”And I did.Needless to say, the sleepless ride on the trains and the soft rocking of the boat made me sleep through most of that ride. But I had my eyes open for brief moments often enough to see what the area around Keswick was like. On the other side of the lake, across the town, was a virgin forest.

It attracted me.I would go there tomorrow.On many mornings after that I would ask the hotel for a packed lunch, take the boat and get off at the forest. I would take with me my writing and reading material. Here in the forest, I would find a tranquil and comfortable place to sit in a scenic spot; here I would write letters back home to friends and family; I would intersperse this with bouts of reading with some dreaming thrown in. A generous time I spent just to ponder, to wonder and to reflect. One day I saw an advertisement in the hotel for a day trip through the Lake District.
I took this day trip and saw the deep and extensive beauty of that area. One town which was as pretty as a picture was Windermere, situated of course on Lake Windermere. All too soon the first week of my holiday was over.

As planned, I took the train to London to spend the second week with my brother Shatir and our friend Emdee. And to discover London. I was 20-years old. Back to Woodlands When I got back to the ROH I found that I had been put in the Children’s Ward. I was in my second year and was now a SeniorNurse.More of distributing medicines,doing ward rounds with the surgeons,writing daily reports and the like and less of bed making, bed baths and bed pans. The children were delightful. There was Margie, two years old, lying on her back, her body immobile on a metal frame with her legs spread out horizontally at 180°. She had no choice in the matter of course. This was the way that children who were born with both hips dislocated had that condition corrected. Margie would be kept in this position for at least one year. If the hips were not stabilised by this time, she would be put back on another frame for may be another six months.

Then there was “Peter Sunshine” so named by Ward Sister Salmon – pronounced not like the fish, but “sal-mon” taking the “l” into account. We never saw Peter’s parents because they did not visit him. But happy, happy Peter would stand in his cot constantly cooing and smiling at all who would pass by. Sister Salmon was very fond of him. Peter had severe club feet. He had a series of operations to have them corrected. The results each time did not bring the expected correction. And so, it went on. A Surprise: Miss Simon’s Visit to Birmingham and its Impact One day Matron sent for me. I wondered “why now?” It was a very pleasant surprise indeed that she had for me. Miss Mabel Simon, my former school Principal was coming to Birmingham. It was to be the very next day. She had come to London, to Moorfields Eye Hospital to have the “Glaucoma” that was troubling her seen to.She had written to Matron saying that she would like to visit me.

Matron had invited Miss Simon to have lunch with her the next day. Matron thought it would be fitting for me to show Miss Simon round the hospital and take her to the Children’s Ward where I was now working. She would send for me the next day when Miss Simon arrived. I met Miss Simon the next day after she had a cup of tea with Matron. Miss Simon was amazed as I took her to the nurses’ home and I showed her my room. A tiny 6’x 10’. The size did not matter because I had got what I wanted in there. Most important to me was a bedside radio; the cover was white with black dots. It would come on when I lifted the lid and switch off when I closed it.

I showed her the kitchenette where I could make myself a sandwich and a cup of coffee if I did not feel like going to the dining room.
I even showed her the row of bathrooms where a hot, hot, soak was possible after a particularly tiring day. I took her to the wards where I had worked and introduced her to Sister Taylor and to Sister Reilly. And finally, I brought her to the Children’s Ward. Sister Salmon was happy to meet her. I left them to talk alone for a while and then took her down the ward. As the children saw me, they cared not with whom, they started shouting as usual, “Nurse Padi, Nurse Padi,” vying for my attention. She stopped by a bed or two to respond to the children. By then she had seen enough to know who I was and what I was doing as a nurse. We spent a short while on a garden bench in pleasant surroundings.

Miss Simon probed my feelings wanting to know more. I shared with her the dilemma I had faced not long ago.Sister Salmon had called me to her room. She had said to me “Nurse Padi, I speak for some other Sisters as well. We have talked about you and we want to ask you to think again about going on to the physiotherapy school when you finish here. We think you will be a very good nurse. We wish you would consider going on with nursing instead.” This had taken me by surprise.I did not know what to say to her other than thank her, of course. At the end of our twoyear stint student nurses at the ROH had the option of continuing either with three years plus at the physiotherapy school or to go on to the General Hospital in Birmingham and after two years become Registered General Nurses.

I told Miss Simon I had written to my mother and sought her advice. My mother had reminded me that I had decided that I would go back home after my studies were over. She had said the choice I was really making was whether I would spend the rest of my life in Ceylon as a nurse or as a physiotherapist. Put that way, I had no choice in the matter.The nursing profession had no recognition and nursing conditions were very poor.Physiotherapy was a new profession and gave rise to much hope. I shared all this with Miss Simon. I told her at the same time how hard a decision it was to make. I just loved being a nurse.

I took Miss Simon to have lunch with Matron. She left directly after lunch and I never saw her again. She had retired and was back home in Melbourne, Australia,when I returned nearly four years later. I was told constantly by school friends of the special place I had found in Miss Simon’s heart. She would mention me in her prize day report every year without fail, giving an update of my achievements year on year. This made me wonder whether I was thefirst girl from Ladies’ College to have done nursing. I will never know. Happy Times in Northfield Village As nurses, we would work in shifts. Our shift as a day nurse was 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. with a three-hour break either in the morning,afternoon or “an evening off” as we put it, and which was the best of course. We had a day and a half off every week. As a night nurse, we worked from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m. We had our breakfast before we went on duty at night, dinner (which in Ceylon we called lunch) at midnight and supper (that is dinner) when we came off duty in the morning.

You might think it was a topsy-turvy world, but it was not. We just kept to that pattern and slept during the day. We had five days off in a fortnight. It was the Night Sister’s decision whether we would have it in two plus three days or five days at a stretch. If it was five days that I had, you could be sure I was down in London to be with Shatir and Emdee. When we had an evening off, I would go into the city, maybe window shopping or to a cinema. During the short breaks or on a day off, I would go into Northfield Village,maybe a 15-minute walk south down the Bristol Road.
Here there was a “Tobacconist” also called the “Corner shop” or “Newsagent”. This was the first place I would go to in the village. The two ladies inside soon got to know me, greeted me with warm smiles, admired my saree, and made small talk to make me feel at home. Before I knew it, they had observed what I had purchased routinely on my visits – Kit-Kat and Mars Bars, the “Women’s Weekly” and the “Woman and Home” magazines.

As I entered the shop they would have all these ready for me with a, “what more would you like to have, dear?” I went regularly also to the library in the village.
This had a wide selection of books I could choose from. It was not long before the vivacious and friendly librarian came to know me. Her beautiful red hair was unusual. It fascinated me. She helped me choose what turned out always to “be a good read”. On the streets all I met would have a warm smile and a greeting for me.All of which me made say, “thank you destiny, for bringing me here to Northfield and to the Royal Orthopaedic Hospital, the Woodlands.” Recognition There was more to thank Destiny for. The ROH had an annual prize giving at which nurses were recognized for their work performance. At the first prize giving I was surprised to be awarded the first prize for Anatomy. That was my favorite subject.

The second year it was an even greater surprise. The time for it was after I had completed the two years of nursing and had moved to the School of Physiotherapy. One day I had a letter with Matron’s seal on it brought to me. I could not believe my eyes. The ROH had decided to award me the “Silver Medal in Nursing”. This recognized me as having been the second-best nurse over the two past years. Now here was news I had to write home about. My mother of course told Miss Simon. Now she had something to include in her prize-giving report in December that year. Her previous report had mention of the prize.In her letter Matron asked me to come see her.

When I did go, she said that it was traditional for me to say a few words,thanking the hospital. Which, when the timecame, I did. The Gold Medallist was Jenny Ross. Jenny was in the batch before me. She was an exceptionally good nurse. And would you believe it, Jenny had her education at Cheltenham Ladies’ College. From which came the Founders of Ladies’ College, Colombo where I had my education. Which made me think, it is a small world indeed. Farewell to Nursing Two years passed all too soon. It was time to say goodbye to all these lovely people who had made my life at Woodlands a happy one.
There were two groups of people I had to include in my round of farewells.

The first was a small group of three to four. They worked in the “Round Tower” of the Hospital. It was they who had made my 21st birthday a remarkable and happy one. They had made possible a phone call for me from Colombo on this day. Very difficult and therefore scarcely possible in those days.Coordinating with the telephone exchange in Colombo, they connected me to my mother. After we had exchanged a few messages, then each and every member of my family – sisters and brothers and their spouses, nieces and nephews, the whole lot spoke to me. I knew then how fortunate I was to have been the youngest in a family of nine.

The incident went further. Word had got around the hospital about this special happening. I was not alone. What is more, Mahin and Barbara made me a gift of a pretty pearl necklace. One that I treasure to this day. And the Hospital Chef baked me a cake.Which brings me to the second group, the head of which was the Chef. I made a point of going to the kitchen. I met the Chef in his out-sized white peaked cap. And his staff,also in white but wearing smaller caps,decreasing in size according to their rank in the hierarchy. They had made me feel quite special from the first day I came to Woodlands to the last.
On my way from the nurses’ home to the dining room I had to pass the entrance to the kitchen. It seemed to me there had always stood here a lookout when I made my way to breakfast. Because every day the Chef and his staff came out to greet me just as I passed, with smiles and, “how are you today m’dawling?” or “and how are you, me lovlay?” or “oooh, bit cold for you in’t?” These were all delightful people and how I would miss them.



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Features

Power crept into the Sangha and is now tearing it apart

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A file photo of Buddhist monks engaged in a protest

For more than a century, Sri Lankan society has lived with a quiet contradiction at the heart of its religious life. On the one hand, the Buddhist monk is revered as the embodiment of moral discipline, selfrestraint, and renunciation. On the other, the modern monk has become a public figure, political actor, administrator, media personality, and in some cases power broker whose influence extends far beyond the temple. This contradiction has been tolerated, even celebrated, for decades. But recent events, most notably a widely publicised case involving a senior monk accused of grave moral misconduct, have forced the country to confront a painful truth: the institutional conditions that make such scandals possible are not new. They are the predictable outcome of a long historical process that H. L. Seneviratne described with remarkable clarity in The Work of Kings. The moral deterioration visible today is not an aberration. It is the culmination of a centurylong transformation in the identity, function, and authority of the Sangha.

To understand how we arrived at this moment, it is necessary to revisit the argument Seneviratne made nearly three decades ago. His thesis was simple but profound: the modern Sri Lankan monkhood has taken on the ‘work of kings.’ By this he meant that monks, instead of confining themselves to the renunciant life prescribed by the Vinaya, have assumed the secular responsibilities once associated with precolonial kingship, such as protecting the religion, organising society, guiding the nation, and enforcing moral order. This shift, he argued, was not a natural evolution of Buddhist tradition but a modern invention shaped by colonialism, nationalism, and the anxieties of a society struggling to redefine itself in the face of foreign domination. The monk became a symbol of national identity, a guardian of cultural authenticity, and a leader in the struggle for political autonomy. In the process, the boundaries that once separated the monastic from the worldly began to dissolve.

Transformation

The consequences of this transformation were not immediately visible. For decades, the activist monk was celebrated as a patriot, a reformer, and a moral guide. His involvement in education, social welfare, and nationalist mobilisation was seen as a necessary response to colonial pressures and missionary competition. But beneath the surface, the foundations of monastic discipline were slowly eroding. The Vinaya, which had served for centuries as a rigorous framework for regulating monastic life, was increasingly overshadowed by the demands of public engagement. The communal structures that once ensured accountability, senior supervision, collective confession, and the daily rhythms of monastic routine, were weakened by the pressures of modernity. Monks who travelled constantly, managed institutions, or lived independently in urban temples found themselves outside the traditional systems of oversight that had long protected the integrity of the Sangha.

Scandal

It is within this historical context that the recent scandal must be understood. The case shocked the nation not only because of the severity of the allegations but because it shattered the public’s assumption that the monkhood remains a bastion of moral purity. Yet the shock itself reveals a collective denial. For years, Sri Lankan society has been aware, sometimes quietly, sometimes openly—of the growing gap between the ideal of the monk and the realities of modern monastic life. Stories of misconduct, financial irregularities, political manipulation, and abuse of authority have circulated with increasing frequency. But each incident has been treated as an isolated failure, a personal weakness, or an unfortunate exception. What has been missing is recognition that these incidents are symptoms of a deeper structural problem.

Seneviratne’s analysis helps illuminate this problem. When monks take on the work of kings, they inevitably enter domains of power that expose them to temptations the Vinaya was designed to avoid. Handling money, managing institutions, cultivating political patrons, and exercising authority over laypeople create opportunities for ego, ambition, and moral compromise. The monk who becomes a public figure is no longer shielded by the anonymity and humility of the renunciant life. Instead, he becomes a celebrity, a leader, and in some cases an object of uncritical devotion. This elevation brings with it a dangerous form of immunity. Laypeople who revere a monk for his public achievements may hesitate to question his behaviour. Politicians who rely on monastic support may protect him from scrutiny. The media, which often treats monks as moral authorities, may be reluctant to investigate allegations that challenge the sanctity of the robe.

The recent scandal illustrates how these dynamics can converge. The monk at the centre of the case was not an obscure figure. He was a respected preacher, charismatic leader, and head of a prominent institution. His public image was built on years of service, teaching, and community engagement. Yet it was precisely this public stature that allowed him to operate without meaningful oversight. The institutional structures around him, administrators, lay supporters, and junior monks, were either unwilling or unable to challenge his authority. The very qualities that made him a respected figure in the eyes of the public also made him untouchable within his own institution. When allegations finally emerged, they revealed not only personal wrongdoing but a systemic failure of accountability.

Failure that is not unique

This failure is not unique to one temple or one monk. It reflects a broader pattern within the modern Sangha. As monastic institutions have grown in size, wealth, and influence, their internal governance has struggled to keep pace. Many temples operate as semiautonomous entities controlled by a single monk or a small group of monks. Financial transparency is limited, administrative oversight is weak, and the mechanisms for addressing misconduct are often informal or ineffective. The traditional structures of monastic discipline, such as the Sangharama procedures for adjudicating offences, are rarely used in modern contexts, partly because they require collective participation and partly because they are illsuited to the complexities of contemporary institutional life. In practice, this means that monks who wield significant authority can act with little fear of internal sanction.

The politicisation of the Sangha has further complicated matters. Since the midtwentieth century, monks have played an increasingly prominent role in electoral politics, nationalist movements, and public policy debates. This involvement has given them access to political networks that can be mobilised to protect their interests. It has also created a culture in which monks are valued not for their adherence to the Vinaya but for their ability to influence public opinion, mobilise voters, or lend moral legitimacy to political causes. In such an environment, the monk who is politically useful may be shielded from criticism, while the monk who adheres strictly to the renunciant ideal may find himself marginalised or ignored.

The result is a profound distortion of monastic identity. The monk who once sought liberation from worldly attachments is now encouraged to cultivate influence, authority, and public recognition. The monk who once lived under the strict supervision of senior elders now operates in a world where independence is celebrated and oversight is minimal. The monk who once relied on laypeople for basic sustenance now controls vast resources, manages institutions, and commands the loyalty of thousands of followers. This inversion of traditional roles has created a fertile ground for moral deterioration.

Yet it would be a mistake to interpret this deterioration as evidence that the Sangha as a whole is corrupt. Many monks continue to live lives of remarkable discipline, humility, and spiritual dedication. In remote forest monasteries, small village temples, and meditation centres across the country, monks quietly uphold the ancient ideals of the renunciant life. They are not the ones who appear on television, lead political rallies, or manage large institutions. Their work is invisible, their influence subtle, and their commitment unwavering. The crisis facing the Sangha today is not a crisis of individual morality but a crisis of institutional identity. It is the product of a centurylong transformation that has blurred the boundaries between the monastic and the secular, the spiritual and the political, the renunciant and the worldly.

If Sri Lanka is to address this crisis, it must begin by acknowledging the structural nature of the problem. The temptation to treat each scandal as an isolated incident must be resisted. Instead, the country must confront the uncomfortable reality that the modern configuration of monastic life is fundamentally at odds with the principles of the Vinaya. The Sangha cannot simultaneously function as a political force, a social service provider, a media institution, and a spiritual community without compromising its integrity. The more monks are drawn into the world, the more vulnerable they become to the moral dangers that the Buddha warned against.

Reform, therefore, must focus not only on punishing individual offenders but on rethinking the institutional structures that enable misconduct. This includes strengthening internal governance, enhancing financial transparency, restoring the authority of senior elders, and reestablishing the communal practices that once ensured accountability. It also requires a broader cultural shift in how laypeople relate to monks. Blind devotion must give way to informed respect. Reverence must be balanced with responsibility. The robe must be honoured, but it must not be used as a shield against scrutiny.

Seneviratne’s work offers a valuable starting point for this rethinking. His analysis reminds us that the crisis facing the Sangha is not the result of moral decline alone but of historical forces that reshaped the identity of the monkhood. By tracing the evolution of the activist monk, he shows how the Sangha became entangled in the political and social structures of the modern nationstate. This entanglement has brought both benefits and dangers. It has allowed monks to play important roles in education, social welfare, and national development. But it has also exposed them to the corrupting influences of power, wealth, and public acclaim.

The challenge now is to disentangle the Sangha from these influences without undermining its ability to serve society. This will not be easy. The activist monk has become deeply embedded in the cultural and political fabric of the country. Many laypeople expect monks to be leaders, reformers, and guardians of national identity. Politicians rely on monastic support to legitimise their agendas. Media institutions depend on monks for content, commentary, and moral authority. Reversing this trend will require a collective effort from monks, laypeople, and political leaders alike.

Ultimately, the future of the Sangha depends on its ability to reclaim the renunciant ideal that lies at the heart of Buddhist monasticism. This does not mean withdrawing from society entirely, but it does mean reestablishing the boundaries that protect the monk from the dangers of worldly involvement. It means recognising that the true strength of the Sangha lies not in its political influence or institutional power but in its moral authority, its spiritual discipline, and its commitment to the path of liberation. The recent scandal, painful as it is, may serve as a catalyst for this reevaluation. It has exposed the vulnerabilities of the modern monastic system and forced the country to confront the consequences of a centurylong transformation.

To understand how the Vihara Devalegam Act relates to the perceived moral deformation of the clergy, it is necessary to examine how property management, state law, and monastic discipline intersect in the modern era. Historically stemming from the Buddhist Temporalities Ordinance No. 19 of 1931, this act serves as the primary legal framework governing the ‘temporalities’—meaning the secular wealth, extensive landholdings, and material donations belonging to Buddhist temples and shrines. While ancient kings granted these vast tracts of land to support the monkhood’s spiritual pursuits, the modern codification of this law has inadvertently fostered a system where property rights frequently supersede spiritual accountability.

The core of the crisis lies in the commercialisation of the monastic order that this legal framework enables. By treating temple lands as economic assets and vesting absolute administrative power in individual chief monks or lay trustees, the act has contributed to the rise of what critics term a monastic middle class. Access to vast, unregulated financial resources, rent from lands, and corporate donations has fundamentally shifted the focus of certain segments of the clergy away from the traditional path of worldly renunciation and spiritual guidance. Instead, it has driven a preoccupation with business investments, the accumulation of private capital, and luxury lifestyles, which deeply alienates a public looking to the Sangha for moral leadership.

The institutional flaws embedded in the Vihara Devalegam Act find a stark, real-world manifestation in the recent criminal case involving Venerable Pallegama Hemarathana Thero. As the chief priest of Anuradhapura and the custodian of the Atamasthana—the eight highly venerated Buddhist shrines, including the sacred Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi—Hemarathana Thero occupied one of the most powerful and wealthy positions within the Sri Lankan Sangha. His arrest on charges of sexual abuse of a minor girl perfectly illustrates how the structural defects of the Act facilitate not only moral decay but also the systemic obstruction of justice.

The core of this intersection lies in the vast, unaccountable wealth generated by the temporalities of the Anuradhapura shrines. Under the Vihara Devalegam Act, the chief custodian exercises immense, virtually unchecked control over temple revenues, state-backed land management, and millions of rupees in daily donations from millions of global pilgrims. It is precisely this immense financial liquidity that enabled the alleged deployment of vast sums of money to the victim’s family.

Furthermore, the situation underscores the profound policy failures cited regarding the helplessness of the monastic hierarchy and state enforcement. When child protection authorities initially attempted to act, the National Child Protection Authority noted severe delays and institutional resistance, stating they practically had to force the police to execute the arrest. The monk’s immediate retreat to a private hospital in Colombo upon the advancement of the criminal probe, followed by his release on bail, mirrors the exact loop described where wealthy monastics deploy high-priced legal defence teams funded directly or indirectly by their institutional positions. Because the Vihara Devalegam Act does not provide a mechanism for the immediate, unconditional forfeiture of temporal administrative rights upon a criminal indictment, the accused retains his structural power throughout the legal process. The Pallegama Thero scandal stands as definitive proof that without a fundamental overhaul of how temple wealth is legally governed and disciplined, the material benefits guaranteed by ancient temporalities will continue to shield the worst elements of moral deformation from the rule of law.

If Sri Lanka can learn from this moment and if it can recognise the structural roots of the crisis and commit to meaningful reform, then the Sangha may yet emerge stronger, more disciplined, and more faithful to its ancient ideals. But if the country continues to treat each scandal as an isolated failure and if it continues to ignore the deeper institutional problems that Seneviratne identified, then the moral deterioration we see today will only deepen. The work of kings, when performed by monks, carries a heavy price. It is time to decide whether that price is worth paying.

by Professor Amarasiri de Silva

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Kondachchi wind farm and battery storage project to boost energy security, says Power Ministry Secretary

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The Power and Energy Ministry’s drive towards energy security and renewable energy expansion received a major boost yesterday with the signing of a tripartite cooperation agreement for the development of the 150 MW Kondachchi Wind Power Project and an integrated Battery Energy Storage System (BESS) in Mannar.

The agreement was signed at the Ministry of Power auditorium under the patronage of Power Minister Anura Karunatilaka and Deputy Power Minister Arkam Ilyas.

Speaking at the event, Ministry Secretary G. M. R. D. Aponsu described the project as a transformative investment that would strengthen the country’s electricity network while supporting Sri Lanka’s transition towards cleaner energy sources.

“The Kondachchi Wind Power Project represents a significant milestone in Sri Lanka’s renewable energy journey. By combining large-scale wind generation with advanced battery energy storage technology, we are creating a more resilient and reliable power system capable of meeting future energy demands while reducing dependence on imported fossil fuels,” Aponsu said.

The project will be developed at Silavathurai in the Kondachchi area of Mannar on lands owned by the Sri Lanka Cashew Corporation. It is expected to utilise some 31 modern wind turbines with a total installed capacity of at least 150 MW.

Aponsu said the inclusion of an integrated battery storage facility would help address the variability associated with wind power generation and ensure stable electricity supply to the national grid.

“The battery energy storage component is a key feature of this project. It will enable the efficient integration of renewable energy into the grid and enhance overall system stability, which is essential as Sri Lanka increases the share of renewables in its energy mix,” he said.

According to the Ministry, the wind farm is expected to generate nearly 525 gigawatt-hours of electricity annually, significantly reducing the country’s expenditure on imported fuel and strengthening national energy security.

The project is also expected to contribute to Sri Lanka’s climate commitments by reducing carbon dioxide emissions by an estimated 372,750 tonnes annually.

“This investment delivers both economic and environmental benefits. It will reduce greenhouse gas emissions, support sustainable development objectives and help Sri Lanka move closer to achieving its renewable energy and climate targets,” Aponsu noted.

The project will be implemented under a Public-Private Partnership (PPP) arrangement using the Build, Own and Operate (BOO) model. The Asian Development Bank is providing technical and financial advisory support through its Transaction Advisory Services programme.

The signing ceremony was attended by Pradeep Perera, Chairman of the National System Operator (Pvt) Ltd., and Takeyo Koike, Head of Market Development and Public-Private Partnership Division of the ADB, among other distinguished guests.

The Ministry said comprehensive Environmental Impact Assessments and avifaunal studies have been undertaken to ensure minimal impacts on bird populations, nearby communities and agricultural lands. A dedicated 220-kilovolt transmission system will also be constructed to connect the project to the national grid.

“The Kondachchi Wind Farm is a strategic national project that will help secure Sri Lanka’s energy future while accelerating the country’s transition towards sustainable and affordable electricity generation,” Aponsu said.

Energy sector experts view the project as one of the most important renewable energy initiatives currently being pursued in Sri Lanka, combining utility-scale wind generation with modern energy storage technology to enhance grid reliability and long-term energy sustainability.

By Ifham Nizam

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Saudi Arabia sets new benchmark in Hajj management as 1.7 million pilgrims complete sacred journey

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Ambassador Al-Kahtani

Interview with Khalid Hamoud Al-Kahtani, Ambassador of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia to Sri Lanka

Saudi Arabia has once again demonstrated its unparalleled capacity to manage one of the world’s largest annual religious gatherings, with this year’s Hajj pilgrimage concluding successfully despite extreme temperatures and the immense logistical challenge of accommodating more than 1.7 million pilgrims from around the world.

In an exclusive interview with The Island, Khalid Hamoud Al-Kahtani, Ambassador of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia to Sri Lanka, described the 2026 Hajj season as a resounding success, crediting the achievement to the visionary leadership of the Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince and Prime Minister, and the coordinated efforts of multiple government agencies working around the clock to serve pilgrims.

The Ambassador noted that nearly 3,500 Sri Lankan pilgrims participated in this year’s Hajj under the quota allocated to Sri Lanka, benefiting from enhanced healthcare services, sophisticated crowd-management systems, expanded shaded areas and cutting-edge digital solutions introduced by the Kingdom.

With Saudi Arabia continuing to invest heavily in infrastructure, technology and pilgrim services under Vision 2030, Ambassador Al-Kahtani said the Kingdom remains committed to ensuring that pilgrims from around the world perform their religious duties in safety, comfort and tranquility.

The Saudi envoy also highlighted the growing partnership between Saudi Arabia and Sri Lanka, emphasising expanding cooperation not only in Hajj affairs but also in trade, investment, education, culture and institutional exchanges.

Following are excerpts of the interview:


Q: How do you assess this year’s Hajj season?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: This year’s Hajj season was a resounding success, thanks to the Almighty Allah and the integrated efforts of the government of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, led by the Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques and His Royal Highness the Crown Prince and Prime Minister. This success was reflected in the efficiency of crowd management, the quality of services provided to the Hajj pilgrims and the effective coordination among the various relevant authorities, which enabled pilgrims to perform their rituals in an atmosphere of security, tranquility and ease.

Q: How many Sri Lankan pilgrims performed Hajj this year?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The number of Hajj pilgrims from the Democratic Socialist Republic of Sri Lanka reached approximately 3,500, within the quota allocated to Sri Lanka for this season.

Q: Are there any discussions regarding increasing Sri Lanka’s quota in the future?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani:Hajj quotas are determined according to approved regulatory mechanisms that take into account a range of considerations. The relevant authorities in the Kingdom continue to study various aspects related to developing Hajj services and accommodating the allocated numbers for all countries, in coordination with the concerned parties.

Q: What were the most prominent special arrangements implemented this year?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The operational plans for this season focused on enhancing the safety and comfort of the Hajj pilgrims, especially given the climatic conditions and high temperatures. Measures included expanding shaded areas, increasing water distribution points and enhancing health and ambulance services, in addition to developing the transportation system and traffic management within the holy sites.

Q: What are the most prominent digital systems and smart services that were provided?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani:The Kingdom continues to implement its digital transformation objectives for the Hajj and Umrah system. The scope of electronic services offered through the Nusuk platform and application has been expanded, along with the development of digital systems for issuing permits, managing crowds, guidance and health services. This contributes to increasing the efficiency of services and improving the pilgrim’s experience at all stages of their journey.

Q: How were the challenges of overcrowding and heat addressed?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The relevant authorities adopted an integrated crowd-management system based on modern technologies and real-time data analysis. This was coupled with intensified health-awareness campaigns, expanded organised movement routes and increased deployment of field, medical and emergency teams. These measures support the safety of the Hajj pilgrims and reduce the risks associated with crowd density and climatic conditions.

Q: Were there special services for the elderly and sick?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: Yes. The Kingdom paid special attention to the elderly and people with special health needs by providing specialized medical services, assistive transportation and facilities equipped to meet their needs, in addition to field teams working to provide humanitarian support and necessary healthcare throughout the Hajj period.

Q: How successful was the Kingdom in combating irregular Hajj permits?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The relevant authorities in the Kingdom continued to rigorously implement the regulations and instructions governing Hajj, utilising modern technologies and advanced monitoring procedures to reduce violations related to irregular Hajj. These efforts contributed to enhancing the safety of pilgrims, improving crowd-management efficiency and maintaining the smooth flow of movement within the holy sites.

Q: How would you describe Saudi-Sri Lankan cooperation in organising Hajj?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: Cooperation between the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and the Republic of Sri Lanka is characterised by continuous and constructive coordination in all matters related to Hajj. The relevant authorities in both countries work jointly to ensure the provision of the best services for Sri Lankan pilgrims and enable them to perform their rituals with ease and peace of mind.

Q: How many Hajj pilgrims were there globally, and what were the main challenges?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: According to official statistics, the number of Hajj pilgrims this year reached 1,707,301 from various countries around the world. The main challenges included managing large crowds, ensuring public safety and providing health, transportation and accommodation services within a specific geographical and temporal scope. These challenges were addressed through advanced and integrated operational plans, which contributed to the smooth and successful completion of the Hajj season.

Q: Are there any future expansion projects?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The Kingdom continues to implement strategic development projects within the framework of Vision 2030, including developing the infrastructure in Makkah and the Holy Sites, and enhancing transportation networks and smart services. This contributes to raising the quality of services provided to pilgrims and Umrah performers and improving their long-term experience.

Q: How are Saudi-Sri Lankan relations  strengthened outside the context of Hajj?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: Relations between the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and the Republic of Sri Lanka are witnessing continuous development in many areas, including political, economic, trade, cultural and educational cooperation, in addition to developing exchanges between institutions and the private sector. This reflects the two countries’ keenness to strengthen the bilateral partnership and achieve common interests.

Q: What message would you like to convey to Sri Lankan Muslims?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: We extend our sincere congratulations to the Hajj pilgrims who have completed their Hajj rituals, and we ask Almighty Allah to accept their pilgrimage. We also assure Muslims in Sri Lanka that the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia places serving the Two Holy Mosques and the guests of Almighty Allah at the forefront of its priorities and continues to develop the Hajj and Umrah system to achieve the highest standards of quality and safety.

By Ifham Nizam

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