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SUSPICIOUS IN SICILY

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Sicily

(Excerpted from Falling Leaves, an anthology of memoirs by LC Arulpragasam)

Having lived in Italy for many years, we planned a trip to Sicily in April 1975. The idea was met with some alarm among our Sri Lankan friends, since Sicily at that time was cursed with mafia kidnaps and killing. I replied laughingly: ‘what self-respecting mafioso would waste his time kidnapping a poor Sri Lankan?’ We planned to travel with our two younger children (aged 10 and 8 years) in our caravan (trailer/roulotte) to be towed by our trusty old Peugeot 404 station wagon. It was to be a long drive – a total of around 1,000 miles, including travel within Sicily. We reckoned that the countryside would be green, with the fields fresh with the flowers of spring. What we left out of our calculation was the powerful scirocco, the scorching wind that comes blistering out of the deserts of Africa, bringing the sand of the desert even into Sicily.

An interesting geographic feature of Italy is its north-south disposition, making it one of the ‘longest’ countries in Europe, relative to area. This has had the result of it being blessed with wide agro-climatic variations, starting from the ice-bound Alps in the north, to arid Sicily near the African desert in the south. One is struck by the growing barrenness, due to poor rainfall and poorer soils, as one goes southwards towards Sicily. This was matched in those days by pervasive poverty as one proceeded farther south to Eboli, immortalized in Carlo Levi’s book: ‘Christ stopped at Eboli’: because he did not have the heart to go any farther, due to the pervasive poverty and inaccessibility.

In crossing the straits of Messina by car-ferry, we got a glimpse of the Aeolian Islands, especially of Vulcano, the island closest to us. These islands, immortalized by Homer’s Odyssey and Virgil’s Aeneid, were home to Aeolus the God of the Winds, to Vulcan the God of Fire and to the one-eyed Cyclops. Although I wished to see these fabled isles, I knew that in the 1970s they contained little more than volcanoes, sea and sand! But fast-forwarding to today, although the island is full of sun-loving tourists in summer, they are gone by summer’s end, leaving only the cooks and security persons of the hotels behind – and they are 80 per cent of Sri Lankan origin! Thus it has come to pass that Sri Lankans are in charge of the home of Vulcan, the Fire God – if only for the winter!

This is not intended to be a travelogue; so I shall only briefly describe the most impressionable things we saw in Sicily. The most beautiful above all is Taormina, on the eastern coast. The centre-piece is the old Greek amphitheatre which was later enlarged and embellished by the Romans. One can never forget this view, looking down through the white marble pillars of the amphitheater across the brilliant blue of the Aegean Sea with the backdrop of snow-capped Mt. Etna, spewing smoke by day and glowing orange-red at night. The foreground is framed by Greek pillars, choked in a welter of wild flowers: white and yellow daisies, bloodied by the flame of red poppies in spring. It is one of the most beautiful and awe-inspiring sights in the world.

From there we travelled along the eastern seaboard to Siracusa (Syracuse). This was one of the centres of ancient Greek civilization and part of Magna Graecia or Greater Greece. Plato and Aristotle were long-term visitors here, while it was also the home of Archimedes and the site of his famous ‘eureka’ moment. From Siracusa we drove to Agrigento, another centre of Greek civilization in Italy. It was a noble city, with white-marbled Greek temples on a ridge of hills overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea, justly named the Valley of the Temples. It must have been an impressive sight for Greek travelers to see from the sea this line of temples, decked in white marble, trimmed with gold lining, glimmering in the morning or evening sun. We were allowed to park among the temple ruins by a kind policeman, thus managing to live among these grand ruins for two days, an experience that would be just impossible today. Thus, we were in the temple of Concorde at sunrise watching the sun rise over the Tyrrhenian Sea, while we watched it setting over the mountains from the temple of Juno. We sat in the white-marbled temples in the silence of the moonlight, with only the light-dappled sea lapping on the shore below. It still remains one of our most treasured memories.

From Agrigento (on the southern coast), we cut across the heartland of Sicily, through its barren mountains and poverty-stricken countryside towards Palermo, the capital. These wild mountains are the home of some of the bloodiest mafia clans, including the Corleone family, depicted in the movie, ‘The Godfather’. It is these barren hills that spawned the great Italian migration to New York, which unfortunately also carried with it the poisonous seeds of the mafia.

Cutting across this Sicilian heartland, we arrived in Palermo, the capital city. The cathedrals in Palermo and Monreale take one’s breath away! This part of the world has passed through many imperial and cultural hands: the Phoenicians, the Carthaginians, the Greeks, the Romans, the Vandals, the Goths, the Byzantine Empire, the Arabs, the Normans, the French, the Spanish and other powers of Christendom. What was left behind in Sicily is layer-upon-layer of a very rich, tolerant and vibrant culture that has endured to this day. Having been brainwashed by British history books in colonial Ceylon, I learned with some surprise that the most tolerant and enlightened rulers of all the above were the Muslim Arabs. For it was the Arab rule of 200 years that ushered in the greatest period of peace and tolerance for all religions, especially under the rule of Sala-uddin (Saladin) the Saracen, much-reviled in British history books. On the contrary, it was the Normans and the plundering Christian kings who epitomized the rapaciousness and savagery of the crusades, while later the Catholic Church, through its Inquisition, was to make short shrift of the Jews and Muslims. As for monuments, the main Muslim mosques were made into churches and cathedrals – of which the cathedrals of Palermo and Monreale are the most magnificent. The mosaics and marble carvings in the latter were done mainly by Moslem craftsmen, whose delicate filigree work and in-laid floral designs are matched only by the Moorish remains in Grenada and the Taj Mahal in India.

We had now spent almost two weeks in Sicily and were congratulating ourselves on how lucky we had been on this trip, in terms of weather, places visited, and costs incurred. But at this point, misfortune struck. It came in the form of a scirocco, the blistering wind that comes out of the deserts of Africa in April, scorching Sicilian crops and choking the air with desert sand. On our last lap along the northern coastal road from Palermo to Messina, we had chosen to take the new autostrada so as to avoid the traffic on the lower coastal road. Whereas the latter hugged the curves on the coast, the autostrada rode boldly on the ridge of the mountains. But bowling along on this exposed autostrada, I began to feel the tugs of the wind on the caravan (trailer). Fearing that our caravan might topple over, I sought the first exit down to the lower road, where we were sheltered completely from the wind by the range of inland mountains.

Congratulating myself on my genius in avoiding the scirocco, I drove along this sheltered coastal road. My joy was short-lived. After a while, we came to a gorge – a rift in the mountains – forged by a river flowing to the sea, over which there was a long bridge. On the bridge, we would be fully exposed to the wind which came whistling through, funneled more forcefully through the narrow gorge. We had barely gone a few yards on the bridge when the steering wheel came alive in my hands and the caravan started bucking wildly.

Looking in the rear-view mirror, I saw the caravan actually becoming air-borne, while simultaneously hearing it landing on its side with a crash! The car listed to one side with its rear-end lifted up in the air, caught up in the grotesque embrace of the overturned caravan. We jumped out in panic.

Although the caravan lay on its side, it was luckily still on the bridge, held in place by the latter’s low retaining wall. Although the children had managed to scramble out of the car, they were in danger of being blown off the bridge into the gorge! I got them to crawl off the bridge in the shelter of its low parapet wall. But as soon as they crawled off the latter’s shadow, Anjali, my small daughter of 11 years, was sent staggering, almost airborne, by the wind – so that I had to make a flying rugby tackle to bring her down!

Meanwhile, our upturned caravan and car were in the middle of the bridge, bringing all traffic on this main road to a halt, with traffic piling up at both ends. At this juncture, fortune smiled upon us. Just behind us happened to be a military convoy with many big trucks and equipment, headed by a jeep carrying four high-ranking officers. Since our caravan was now blocking the entire bridge, the military set to work. The caravan still rested on its side, held precariously by the low retaining wall of the bridge, from tipping into the gorge.

In the meantime, the soldiers righted the caravan, so that it stood on its own wheels. But only for a moment: for it was immediately struck down by the wind! So they put it upright again – to be immediately smashed down again. This happened repeatedly! Then I got a bright idea: with the massive army trucks lined up on the windward side of the bridge, we gingerly drove off the bridge to the sheltering shadow of a nearby mountain.

We were told to work our way to the next village two miles away, but were warned by the military officers not to move from there for another three to five days – the normal duration of a scirocco! Since we were really scared, we humbly accepted their instructions and limped our way with difficulty to the nearby village. By this time it was getting dark. So with great trepidation, we found a vacant lot in the shadow of a tall unfinished building, which we hoped would shelter us from the wind.

It was at this time that we noticed that we were not alone: for behind a bush was a swarthy man with a woollen cap, peering at us through the shrubbery. For the first time, I began to wonder whether ‘the natives’ were indeed friendly, or whether we really had reason to be afraid in ‘darkest’ Sicily! After some hide-and-seek, he came forward and told me that they had heard in the village that we had suffered an accident on the bridge. He said that he had come to check whether this was true, and whether he could be of any help. He then beckoned with his finger for me to follow him. He led me to a sort of shed in which other swarthy, unshaven men in woollen caps were sitting around, drinking wine. They all stopped to stare at this coloured stranger in seemingly sinister fashion! Really scared by this time, I excused myself and hastily retreated to our caravan, making sure to bolt the door and windows!

Next morning, with the sun shining brightly and a good breakfast under our belts, our predicament looked less dire. The only problem was that the scirocco was blowing unabated and we had to find a means of repairing our caravan, which was very badly damaged. We were discussing the possibilities when our ‘friend’ of the previous night, whose name was ‘Mario’, arrived along with a younger, better dressed man. We discovered later that most of the villagers had no more than a Grade 3 education: they were either unemployed, or were part-time workers on the railway lines, with rather profitless farming as a sideline.

My interlocutors now insisted that I follow them to another house. Although invited for a chat, I soon found that I was at an ‘interrogation’, with many others present. Led by the better dressed young man, they asked where we lived, where we came from, and where and how I was employed. I tried explaining to them that we were from Sri Lanka: but they had never heard of such a country! All went seemingly well until the better-dressed young man, the chief inquisitor (I later found that he was the only one who had advanced to Grade 5) asked me where I was employed.

To make it simple, I told him that I worked for the United Nations in Rome. ‘Ah- ha’ exclaimed the young man in triumph, turning to his audience: ‘How could he work for the United Nations in Rome when the United Nations is in New York?’ The villagers were impressed by their wise man! Pleadingly, I explained that I worked for the Food and Agricultural Organization (FAO), which was part of the United Nations, but which was actually located in Rome.

But to no avail, because their educated young man had unmasked an impostor! None of my explanations did any good, since their ‘prosecutor’ was grandstanding for his audience! We obviously had ulterior motives in coming to their village. We must be zingari (gypsies), the only dark-skinned people they knew, who also moved around in caravans (roulottes) in order to steal. Besides, they all knew that there was no place called Sri Lanka, and they all knew that the United Nations was not in Rome but in New York! Only Il Papa (the Pope) lived in Rome! So why on earth would we come to their village – if not to steal their chickens?

The rest of the day was spent in trying to get emergency repairs to the gancio, the metal device that linked the car to the caravan. We found that the repairs needed three days. When we returned that evening to our damaged caravan, we found that our little daughter, Anjali, had done much to restore our status. A number of children had come to the land below our caravan to see the strangers, and one of them had recognized that we were speaking English. So the shout went up in the village: ‘they are speaking English; they are speaking English!’ By the next day, Anjali added further to our brownie points. Seated on her perch on the retaining wall, she commanded a group of about ten children in their English lessons, repeating after her: ‘c-a-t: cat; m-a-t: mat’, etc.

After three days of sitting out the scirocco and repairing the gancio, we prepared to set out as soon as the wind died down. On our last day, our friend Mario invited us to lunch at his home. This was a great social break-through – since it seemed to show that at least one person in the village trusted us. It was a poor house, barely furnished, with a show of mildewed ‘lace’ (plastic) curtains in the window.

We learned more about the hard life of these poor people, largely uneducated and unemployed, with only part-time casual work on the railway lines. He also told us that the villagers feared that we were zingari (gypsies) who had really come to their village to steal their chickens, but that he really did not believe this. He insisted on coming to see us off the next morning and was almost tearful when we parted. In parting, however, he begged me to please answer one last question. Pleadingly he asked me: ‘Tell me truly, why didn’t you try to steal our chickens?’

Looking back on this delightful but disastrous trip, I was amused that whereas our Sri Lankans friends had been fearful of the Sicilians, the poor Sicilians (at least in this poor village) were more fearful of us Sri Lankans: fearful that we would steal their chickens!



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Addressing human rights needs multi-pronged approach

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Volker Türk

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.

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The emptying university: why are academics leaving?

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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.

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Friends favourite Suzi Croner returns for Oktoberfest 2026

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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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