Features
Seeing the Batticaloa district from the outside during my Ampara days
The people of Batticaloa had learnt to live with a mix of religions and people. On the Christian side were the Jesuit Fathers hard at work training the Tamil boys in English and technology; woodwork being their speciality. The Hindus, with their Kovils and the famous Ramakrishna Ashram at Kallady, were serving the cause of Hindu-based education.
The Ramakrishna Mission on the road out to Kattankudy in Kallady, was a place we visited often. Swamiji Jeevananda was a dynamic character and kept his flock of 200 orphans under a very strict regimen. Yoga exercises, studies, meditation and farming seemed to fill their day. But the boys always appeared alert and eager for more whenever I saw them.
It was a miracle that Swamiji had performed on a sandy bed of land leased out to him by the government many years ago. Compared to the surrounding countryside, the Mission gardens looked like an oasis, full of fruit-bearing trees. Mango and pomegranate trees seemed to bear fruit in all seasons. The care Swamiji bestowed was as much as he gave to his children. Nothing went to waste and everything possible that could nourish the earth went into it.
While taking a walk in the garden with him, if Swamiji saw a fallen leaf, he would, with a deft turn of his big toe, push the leaf into the soil. Leaf compost, he would call it as we walked on.
There were two Buddhist temples one in the heart of Batticaloa city and one near the railway station and they were both well-endowed and looked-after by a group of Sinhalese businessmen, mainly bakers and retailers who had lived in Batticaloa for many years. The peaceful lifestyle was beginning to change during my period there.
Internal seasonal migration for cultivation
One Sunday afternoon, when returning from Colombo, we encountered around Kalkudah a procession of ox carts going west, loaded with people and belongings. My first impression was that some poor village had been visited by a major disaster and the population was fleeing. On inquiring I found that it was the .annual annual migration of the Muslim villagers of Eravur to the banks of the Mahaweli in the Polonnaruwa district, where from time immemorial they had practised tobacco cultivation in the dry season on little leased plots of highland by the side of the river.
The carts were loaded with male children, pots and pans, basins, a bicycle or two, and lots of cadjans, in addition to several sacks of food sufficient to last for weeks. There were no women or girl children in the procession. Each loaded cart with the huge bullock to pull it had another bull or two tethered behind.
I found this fascinating because long ago I had read in Ambassador Philip Crowe’s book Diversions of a Diplomat in Ceylon of the annual migration of the east-coast Muslim farmers to carry out tobacco cultivation along the banks of the Mahaweli river in Tamankaduwa, Polonnaruwa district. Since Damayanthi loved this sort of experience, we decided that we should visit them on the earliest available occasion, and told the travellers so.
The next Sunday we drove up by jeep past the Manampitiya bridge and turning right, got within the next hour to their tobacco farms. We were given a royal welcome and treated to a marvelous spread of jungle fowl and manioc. The cultivation was in fun swing and the method of irrigation was one I had never seen before in Sri Lanka. On a visit to Egypt with Dudley Senanayake in 1967, I had heard of this ancient method of irrigation being practised on the banks of the Nile.
The land the farmers used for their tobacco cultivation was about 10-15 feet above the level of the river. The water had to be lifted up for the crop to be irrigated. What the farmers were doing was to use their bullocks as walking machines to hoist the water up to the top in large leather buckets made of cattle-hide loosely stitched together. The leather bucket was attached to a rope and a pulley was fixed to a pole which jutted out over the water with the end of the rope around the bullock’s neck. When the bullock walked back, and they had learned to walk backwards about 10 paces, the bucket would come up full. When the bullock came forward, the bucket went down. It was an extraordinarily simple, ingenious age-old device of lift irrigation.
Social action by the missionaries
The Jesuit Fathers were very prominent in the work they were doing in education. In addition to the schools they were connected with, they had moved into vocational training and had developed modern techniques, especially in carpentry. Some of the young Jesuit Brothers themselves were experts in handling the new technology and passing it on to the youngsters they were training. The older ones like Fr Weber were focusing on sports especially the development of basketball.
At this time St Michael’s College, Batticaloa was perhaps the leading school in the sport of basketball. They won most of the national championships. Fr Weber’s contribution to Batticaloa was recognized by naming the large playing field in the centre of the town as the Weber Stadium. Out in the field, the training in managing accounts given by the diminutive Sister Gabriel of the Franciscan Order to the fishermen of Mankerni was inspiring.
Illegal settlements in Vakaneri
Around the middle of 1972,1 began to get reports of encroachments of people from outside the district on crown land above the Vakaneri tank. On inquiry I found that about 300 families from the upcountry Tamils of Indian origin, who had found it difficult to obtain employment on plantations on the estates had begun coming into Batticaloa and settling down with the assistance of local officials. I heard that K W Devanayagam (Bill), whom I knew very well and who was an MP of Kalkudah, had sanctioned these settlements.
I immediately called up Bill and told him that this was wrong and illegal and that I would have no alternative but to take action to evict the encroachers. Bill pleaded with me to give them time as they were destitute people and had no other place to go to in the country. I told him I would need to have this taken up by Colombo and immediately informed the Land Commissioner and other relevant authorities about it.
On inspecting the lands, I found that the encroachers were extremely poor and were literally putting up their huts with their bare hands. I had to regretfully tell them that they would have to move since the state land was needed for other purposes. Bill tried his best to plead their cause but on orders coming down from Colombo, I had no alternative but to initiate their eviction from that particular block of land. Where they went after that I did not know. Bill was clearly upset at my order but as I had worked with him when I was secretary to Dudley Senanayake and he was a parliamentary secretary in that Cabinet, I think he understood that duty was duty. He later went on to become chairman of the Public Service Commission.
The riddle of the shifting district boundary
The district adjoining mine was Polonnaruwa and I had some interesting experiences with the high priest of the Dimbulagala Monastery. The priest was a legend in the area and when I first met him he told me a story of how he had been saved from an attempted assassination because of the charms he had used. Apparently a vanload of robbers had come up the mountain into his cell and tried to shoot at him, but the bullets had missed. He was a very outspoken person and boasted of an occasion on which he had actually hit a minister of irrigation with his umbrella because the minister had not agreed to his request for water to the fields in the area.
The question of the exact point of the boundary between the two districts of Batticaloa and Polonnaruwa on the main road began to attract our attention. There was a big signboard on the road which I noticed was beginning to change position regularly. The engineers on the Polonnaruwa side would put it up at a particular point but a few days later, the board would be brought down and erected at another point, a mile or two closer to Batticaloa. It was rumoured that the hand behind this was that of my good friend, the high priest of Dimbulagala. When I asked him about this he jocularly remarked that things like that happen in the area because it was a crossing point for elephants. His theory was that the board had been transported from point to point by a particularly playful herd of elephants!
Esala’s education
Although Batticaloa was extremely pleasant with its collection of highly civilized people to deal with at a social and political level, the fact that my son had two years of his education in the Sinhala stream at St Michael’s College was beginning to cause some concern. The class had about 12 students ranging from the resthouse keeper’s son to the son of a farmer in a Gal Oya colony. Our son enjoyed himself immensely extending his friendships with the children of these working people. However, the teaching was not up to the mark Sinhala teachers being very reluctant to serve in Batticaloa or anywhere in the east. So we soon had to begin once more to look for a better school for him.
I begin to look for a job abroad
It was now coming on to three years in the districts. I was 43 and it seemed a good time to be looking out for a job abroad. I had missed one chance to work for the World Bank in Bangladesh and it looked as if another opportunity would not come if I didn’t exert myself.
So, when I saw that the post of regional director in IPPF in the Indian Ocean region was falling vacant and South-Asians were invited to apply, I thought I would put in my bid. Thinking that having worked for a former prime minister would be an added qualification in a somewhat political job, I asked Dudley whether he would be kind enough to give me a letter of commendation. He said he would. Menikdiwela, who became secretary to the leader of the opposition and remained close to Dudley, told me later that Dudley had sent to the IPPF a tribute to my work with his commendation.
Dudley Senanayake’s letter to Bradman
He wrote me this letter (see p 190) saying that he would help. However, the letter carried some regret that I intended leaving the service of the government. It wasn’t a government of which he was a party but he still cared. My bid, however, failed I didn’t know whether it was due to Dudley’s recommendation and I informed him that I had not been able to get the job. He then wrote me a wonderful letter which I thought made up fully for the loss of the job.
The stirring of ethnic tension
Unlike in the north, where the ethnic question was leading to the rise of militancy and an aggressive attitude to government and Sinhalese people, the situation was different in the east. It was more accommodative and in line with the almost philosophical attitude of the Batticaloa people to live and let live. There were possibly good functional reasons for this. The mix of communities did not allow for any especially dominant group-consciousness to emerge, the three communities the Tamil, the Muslim and the Sinhalese being more or less in equal numbers. Another could have been the long – history of contact and commerce with the Sinhala majority areas and the availability of long-established transport links.
At least four roads linked this area with the Central Province and Uva westwards from Kalkudah by the Manampitiya road; Southeastwards from Chenkaladi by the Maha Oya road; further south by the Ampara-Uhana-Mahiyangana road and to the southwest from Pottuvil by the Moneragala road. This was different from the situation in the north where other than the A9 running through the buffer zone of the Vanni there was virtually no connection with the Sinhalese-speaking provinces.
Sirimavo’s policy of language standardization for university entrants, though not as drastic in its application in Batticaloa as to those seeking entrance in Jaffna, was yet reason enough for agitation. The feeling against the Sinhalese policemen, migrant fishermen, government officials and traders was rising and transcending what had always been the more structural divide between the Tamil northerners and easterners. This was quite apparent among the kachcheri staff themselves and I sometimes had to hold the balance between the cliques which had formed on this basis.
The 1972/73 language media-wise standardisation for admission to the universities had resulted in the following transformation:
Year Faculty Sinhalese Tamil
1969 Engineering 51.7 48.3
Medical 50.0 50.0
1975 Engineering 83.4 16.6
Medical 81.0 19.0
(Figures show percentage-wise change)
The other issue which evoked much critical comment at the officials club and other fora in those days were the changes effected by the new Republican Constitution of 1972. The concern was about the removal of Section 29 2 (c) which the Tamils felt had been included in the Soulbury Constitution under which the country had been governed so far, to provide protection against legislation which could discriminate against their interests as a community.
A time to move on
We loved Batticaloa and the two years there passed by very pleasantly. Our bungalow was situated on the bank of the lagoon and having breakfast on the upper floor watching the sailing boats drift by was extremely soothing. Once we were surprised by a large schooner in full sail which had possibly come in from India and was searching for deeper anchorage near Buffalo Island just a few hundred yards in front of us.
The Sinhalese traders in the town wanted to organize a ceremonial farewell when we left on transfer to Galle in the middle of 1974. I protested and wanted nothing of it but could do little to prevent Ananda of the Lanka Bakery, who was quite active on behalf of the small minority of Sinhalese, to take us on a sort of ‘victory motorcade’, replete with school children waving little Lion flags and the crackle of the traditional `cheena pattas’ as we made our way to the Batticaloa railway station. It was a moment mixed with embarrassment for our Tamil friends who had treated us with such warmth and generosity and gratitude for the Sinhalese who had at a time of oncoming uncertainty responded in the only way they knew to say ‘thanks for holding the scales evenly’.
(Excerpted from Rendering Unto Caesar by Bradman Weerakoon)
Features
Addressing human rights needs multi-pronged approach
by Jehan Perera
The ongoing 63rd session of the United Nations Human Rights Council, which runs from September 7 to October 7, 2026, in Geneva is important to Sri Lanka. Its outcome will send a signal to other international actors, including the European Union, as to whether Sri Lanka’s reform policy is on track. The written update on Sri Lanka, prepared by the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights under High Commissioner Volker Türk and presented by Deputy High Commissioner Nada Al-Nashif, has taken a more holistic approach to the government’s performance over the past year. It acknowledged the progress Sri Lanka has made under the NPP government in relation to accountability for financial fraud and other economic crimes. At the same time, the High Commissioner’s update made clear that progress in relation to economic crime cannot be equated with progress in relation to accountability for grave human rights violations committed during the armed conflict and in other periods of political violence.
The government may have felt sufficiently confident that its response to the High Commissioner’s update could be handled by its representative in Geneva and did not require the attendance of Foreign Minister Vijitha Herath. Sri Lanka’s representative Sumith Dassanayake called for a fundamental review of country-specific mandates within the UN Human Rights Council. Sri Lanka has been facing repeated scrutiny in the form of successive UNHRC resolutions from 2012 onwards. Ambassador Dassanayake argued that such mandates should not continue indefinitely and must be regularly assessed against measurable objectives and tangible outcomes. This may reflect confidence that its record of reform is beginning to receive recognition internationally. The reports and statements at the Human Rights Council acknowledged progress in the government’s efforts to address corruption and economic crime.
The government’s anti-corruption drive has included investigations into allegations involving individuals who held the highest political offices in the country. The arrest of former President Ranil Wickremesinghe in connection with alleged misuse of public funds, and the investigation into the controversial SriLankan Airlines Airbus transaction involving former President Mahinda Rajapaksa’s son, are examples of the reach of these investigations. The arrest of SLPP National Organiser and Member of Parliament Namal Rajapaksa in connection with allegations relating to the Airbus purchase scandal has also demonstrated that the government is willing to pursue cases involving politically powerful figures.
Wide Range
The ongoing investigations appear to encompass a wide range of parliamentarians and government members, both past and present. They suggest that accountability for corruption is not being confined to lower-level officials or to individuals who lack political influence. This is precisely the kind of accountability that the public has long demanded and that previous governments have too often failed to deliver. The government is also reaching into the upper levels of the military hierarchies of the past. The case in which 11 young men, most of them Tamil, disappeared after being abducted in Colombo between 2008 and 2009 involved allegations that some families were asked to pay ransoms. The investigation into this case has reached senior military figures. The willingness to pursue such cases is important because it challenges the assumption that those who exercised power during the war are beyond the reach of the law. Such cases would provide a practical test of whether the government’s commitment to accountability for economic crimes is part of a broader commitment to the rule of law.
Success in prosecuting corruption cannot substitute for justice for those who were unlawfully killed, disappeared, tortured or otherwise victimised. The UN report noted that there had been no recognition or accountability for crimes under international law, gross human rights violations and serious violations of international humanitarian law committed by all parties during the war. The government has yet to establish a credible and effective process to address the many cases of enforced disappearance, extrajudicial killing, torture and other serious violations. The government needs to take the international commitments it has inherited on human rights issues seriously. It needs to adopt a multi-pronged approach and go beyond focusing primarily on financial and corruption-related accountability.
Need Action
As a member of the international community, Sri Lanka has a responsibility to abide by the commitments it has made. It cannot selectively uphold international obligations postponing those that are politically difficult. Also, as a small country, Sri Lanka has a self-interest in ensuring the survival of international law, which is all that it has to protect it from the depredations of the bigger international actors. The erosion of international law by powerful states makes it all the more important that smaller states uphold the principles on which the international system is based. Sri Lanka cannot credibly appeal to international law when it is threatened from outside while disregarding its own obligations within. Sri Lanka also needs to win the confidence of its own population that it is committed to justice and equality for all. Public opinion polls and community-level research have disclosed that ethnic and religious minorities are appreciative of the sense of greater security they enjoy under the present government from ethnic or religious extremists.
But a sense of security is not the same as the fulfilment of rights. As far as the Tamil people are concerned, the government has yet to deliver on several of its specific promises. These include the long-standing problems of missing persons, the release of political prisoners who have been members of Tamil militant organisations, and the return of land taken over for military purposes during the war. The issue of Buddhist statues and archaeological sites found on their properties which are then taken from their control continue to trouble them especially as they see no signs of resolution of those disputes. The issue of pastureland in the east of the country in Mylathamadu is particularly concerning to them as they see orders by successive presidents, both President Ranil Wickremesinghe and President Anura Kumara Dissanayake, being disregarded on the ground. The Mylathamadu pastureland dispute is where traditional Tamil dairy farmers have engaged in multi-year protests against the ongoing encroachment of their ancestral grazing lands by Sinhalese crop cultivators relocated under government development schemes.
The government’s failure to hold Provincial Council elections is particularly troubling. The provincial council system is the only one that can provide the Tamil people and other ethnic minorities the opportunity to wield political power and exercise a measure of self-determination in the areas in which they are the numerical majority. The continued postponement of Provincial Council elections therefore has consequences that go beyond an ordinary electoral delay. It deprives communities of an important constitutional avenue for democratic participation and power-sharing. The ethnic and religious minorities appreciate what the government is doing in the larger national interest, but they must not be made to feel that their special concerns are being ignored. The government cannot resolve Sri Lanka’s entire legacy of rights violations overnight. But it does need to demonstrate that it is willing to move forward on multiple fronts, not only on a few.
Features
The emptying university: why are academics leaving?
by Hasini Lecamwasam
Brain drain in Sri Lanka is at an all-time high. The latest Human Flight and Brain Drain Index for 2024 shows that we are 16th of 175 countries on this count, and first in South Asia. That this is a crisis goes without saying. Brain drain affects all sectors, and is a huge strain on the resources of a developing country. Particularly in Sri Lanka, where considerable public investment is made in the moulding of professionals through the system of free education, this amounts to transferring the resources of poorer countries to richer ones with top migration destinations. It is, therefore, important to consider the push and pull factors behind skilled outmigration, specifically from the public university system of Sri Lanka, a key focus of the Kuppi column.
From frustration to exit
Several bitter realities in our crumbling public university system act as push factors in the migration decisions of academics. Many essays on this column have, over several years, attempted to highlight numerous aspects of this erosion. Perhaps, primary among them is the lack of adequate funding, which has debilitating ramifications for the system: very little investment is made in the up-keep of infrastructure (and even less in its expansion), resulting in serious constraints in accommodating growing batches of students and the wellbeing of the staff (particularly in regional universities); research funding is negligible, severely curtailing academics’ ability to effectively discharge their primary duty of teaching which should ideally be informed by their research (and the research of others, access to which is also, unfortunately, mediated by funding); a funding crunch also means a slash in (or greater constraints on) recruitments, increasing the workloads of academics, currently in service, and eating into the quality of their teaching and research.
What recruitments are done frustrate those with any faith in merit. As many of our interventions in this column have shown, recruitment processes are characterised by archaic selection criteria that place very little weight on a candidate’s postgraduate growth and the advantages of interdisciplinary training. Added to this is the general preference for ‘culturally compliant’ candidates who would not rock the boat too much. The combined effect is that those with the capacity and spirit to try out innovations in education are discouraged from joining or staying on in the public university system. Some, or many, of them may instead seek appointments abroad.
A thread that binds all of these problems together is pervasive hierarchy which, again, many interventions on this column have sought to highlight. It is the interest in preserving hierarchy that leads to the preference for alumni in recruitment processes. Hierarchy within universities can be particularly frustrating for younger faculty and women, who typically have to bear the brunt of the workload of their senior, often male, colleagues. In a context of funding, and, therefore, recruitment, restrictions, this translates into a disproportionate burden being placed on junior (usually female) faculty, seriously hindering their prospects of growing into successful academics due to the time constraints within which they have to operate. Junior academics, therefore, are more likely to look to educational institutions abroad for what they hope would be a different work culture that respects them more.
Ideological ruses
On top of these structural frustrations are also the workings of neoliberal ideology. For one, the nature of relations between the global metropole and peripheral countries like Sri Lanka largely dictates what is desirable and what is not. The apparent lifestyles of Western countries – from food to clothing, housing, appliances, and so on – have continued to lure people from the periphery with the promise of a ‘better’ life, alongside better career advancement opportunities. This, of course, masks much of the struggle that goes on behind the scenes to survive in Western societies. For instance, in most cases highly attractive public infrastructure such as roads, public transport, clean air, quality control of food, and so on belie the astronomical privatised costs of healthcare and education. Health insurance is usually mandatory and steep in most high-income settings, while even subsidised education (for which eligibility criteria are strict) creates a serious dent in household earnings. Of course, the happy images of glossy trams and gleeful international travellers don’t convey this.
A second ideological ruse is the myth of greater opportunities and recognition abroad. While there is no denying that local skilled sectors – be it higher education, health, civil service, or private white-collar positions – are replete with issues that inhibit merit-based professional advancement, the notion that things are fundamentally different in Western countries stems from an uninformed optimism. As is now increasingly known and discussed, Western labour markets are notoriously racialised, and equivalent skills are rarely treated as such. Instead, it is usually demanded that skilled migrants clear certain formal examinations in their host countries. In fields like medicine, this is followed by an interview that may also be racially prejudiced. Once these initial steps are cleared, remuneration reverts to square one irrespective of experience accumulated abroad, not to mention the many subtle aggressions, rejections, and trials one has to go through in the negotiation of everyday life. In the many cases where professional qualifications are used as leverage for a move abroad, sights are set on a better future for one’s children, which again is informed by the misplaced faith in greater opportunities and a lack of awareness of the factors outlined above. Needless to say, in the global swing to the Right, things have become even more challenging. In such a context, considering the few rare cases where skilled migrants live extremely comfortable lives as the norm becomes a dangerous misconception.
The two ideological pull factors mentioned above are complemented by a push factor, which has to do with a highly classed understanding of what a white-collar professional is due in their society. Many of these aspirations are clearly articulated in academic trade union action demanding separate quotas for school entry, increased fuel allowances, winning back the presently stalled vehicle permit scheme, salary hikes, and so on. While working people have every right to agitate for better material conditions, insofar as it remains unconnected to a broader movement for improving the conditions of the lot of the working class, it remains self-serving and very much within the class logic of capitalist society. Since these demands are articulated as a means of maintaining distinction, it is clear that they are not envisaged as part of a class movement. The frustration of not having these needs for distinction satisfied may push some to seek greener pastures abroad, at least financially, (perhaps as a means of social mobility based on it), only to be disappointed on most occasions.
What is to be done?
Addressing the systemic push factors listed above requires, first and foremost, greater allocations for free public higher education. This would immediately translate into more recruitments and less work per academic, and better research and teaching in the long haul. An increase in funding would also ideally lead to greater infrastructural investments, especially including improving the living conditions of those who work in regional universities amid untold hardships. Next, fairer, more creative, and, therefore, more effective recruitment policies are badly needed to attract talented individuals to university positions. Rather than carving out a ‘special category’ for academics to achieve this purpose, which is informed by a classed logic, this needs to be done through fundamental reforms in recruitment processes. Third, a persistent attack on the entrenched hierarchy within universities through internal reform is much called for. Reforming recruitment practices will go a long way towards addressing this. Measures should also be taken to introduce more stringent policies against SGBV (not to mention ragging, even though it is not directly connected to brain drain). Such measures would create a safer, fairer, and more attractive workplace, which would give more reasons for people to stay.
On top of greater allocations, we also need a transformation of our aspirations themselves if this situation is to change. That necessitates a kind of education capable of questioning the ‘paradise’ conception of Western societies, and lays bare their colonial material and ideological dimensions, in both their historical and contemporary manifestations. These colonial understandings of the ‘good life’, moreover, have devastating ecological implications for the planet, not to mention social justice. An education with the ability to transform this mindset would hopefully prove to be more than a mere path to social mobility, rather being a tool of social emancipation that renders mobility moot.
(Hasini Lecamwasam is with the Department of Political Science, University of Peradeniya)
Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.
Features
Friends favourite Suzi Croner returns for Oktoberfest 2026
Charming audiences in Switzerland as Suzi Flückiger, Sri Lanka’s own Suzi Croner is coming home… for a very special occasion.
The bubbly former frontline vocalist of 90s band Friends will take the stage at a popular venue in Colombo for Oktoberfest 2026.
Known in Europe for her country and classic hits, Suzi has remained a much-loved name back home. This will be a rare chance for local fans to see her live and celebrate the voice behind so many Friends memories.
Oktoberfest 2026 in Colombo promises an evening of live music, traditional Bavarian food and beer, colourful dirndls and lederhosen, folk dancing, and plenty of community cheer.

Suzi Croner (Flückiger)
Against this lively backdrop, Suzi will take the stage for a special solo set, featuring her own pre-recorded music. She performed at the event last year too, as a solo artiste, but a German band providing the music.
This year, however she says, it’s a different scene.
“The novel attraction will be the dancers from Germany — all girls, clad in German outfits,” Suzi said. She added that the event will also highlight the activities generally connected with Oktoberfest, which should generate a lot of fun and excitement for those who join her in Colombo next month.
Suzi has become a much-in-demand artiste in Europe, and has even performed Down Under, in Melbourne.
In Switzerland, where she has been based for the past 42 years, she continues to charm audiences with country and classic hits, performing at private events and community nights across Europe.
“My weekends are generally loaded with my work as a singer,” she said. “And I also play tennis three times a week, because I need to keep fit to entertain my audience in an active way.”
Her repertoire is made up mainly of Swiss, German and English songs.
And true to form, Suzi loves springing surprises.
“So watch out when you join me at Oktoberfest 2026, in Colombo!” she said.
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