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The changing faces of Galle Face

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by Ismeth Raheem and Angeline Ondaatjie

Galle Face is Colombo’s most-prized open-aired public space, extending over a mile along the Fort oceanfront in Colombo. Over the course of Sri Lanka’s history, it has been the de facto stage for landmark public gatherings. Most recently over the months of April to July 2022, the Galle Face Green was the centerstage of the People’s Aragalaya, a protest movement that arose from economic hardship in Sri Lanka. During those weeks the protestors renamed it Gotagogama (GGG) and even had a Google marker to prove it. On July 9, 2022, unprecedented crowds from all parts of Sri Lanka gathered in the Galle Face Area breaking attendance records of Prime Minister D.S. Senanayake’s funeral in 1952, the 1953 hartal, and Pope Francis’s holy mass in 2015.

While it seems like it has been iconized by the Aragalaya over just the last few months, Galle Face’s rich history dates back centuries. Prior to the first fortifications that adorn it today (built by the Portuguese in the 16th century) it was referred to as Mapanne, meaning “large open plain”. Long before it became the open stretch of grassy plain sans trees/plants that we know it as, it was a large marsh land and part of the Colombo Lake (later known as the Beira Lake).

In this vast marshland, there were numerous small streams, ponds, and boulders. This extensive delta was created by numerous branches of the Kelani Ganga, the main river that flows to the sea by the ancient Kelani Temple, and is the third longest in the island. The Portuguese used the flooded areas as a defensive measure against possible attacks from the Kandyan Kingdom. Later the Dutch put their efforts into controlling and channeling the lake by creating a network of connected canals.

On the other hand, the British, who succeeded the Dutch in 1789, spent their efforts in reclaiming much of the lake area, believing that this would alleviate the flooding of Colombo’s low-lying areas. The original open stretch on the Southern side of the Fort (now known as Galle Face Esplanade) somehow gained more land around its periphery. Many of the new buildings that adorn the skyline of Slave Island (which owes its name to the slave tenements confined to a moat-surrounded land mass during the Dutch period) are in this reclaimed area of the Beira Lake.The open “Green” stretch was only seldom used for recreation under the Portuguese and Dutch occupations. This changed during the first decades of the 19th century, when it came into its own as the amusement, exercise, and sports venue that it is used as today.

The Galle Face Burial Grounds

Galle Face hosted the site of the first British burial grounds for over half a century from 1803, until the tombstones were translocated to the General Cemetery at Kanatte in 1877. This land may have been a part of the site that was reclaimed by the Dutch Administration of the East India Company around 1700-1750. [See Map of Colombo, 1750]. The timber palisade enclosing the cemetery and the tombstones are clearly indicated in the views of the Galle Face in the coloured engravings by John Deschamps [1848]. The burials were necessitated by the British army’s heavy military casualties from the wars with the King of Kandy during the administration of Governor North between 1801-1805.

For years, the Galle Face Cemetery was known as the “Padre Bailey’s Godown”, after the Archdeacon Bailey who officiated at the burials. J. P. Lewis’s “Tombstones and Monuments of Ceylon”, records the inscriptions on the headstones.

The open stretch of land outside the South Gate of the Colombo Fort was the site of military executions. In close proximity, at the northern end of the current esplanade, featured a guardhouse and a large block of wood: a “whipping post” where punishments were administered by public flogging.

The Esplanade and the Recreation Galle Face Green

In 1853, the sea-front walk of the Galle Face was constructed by Governor Henry Ward. An inscription on the pillar midway through the walk still stands; it reads “Galle Face Walk completed in 1856 and recommended to his successors in the interest of the Ladies and Children of Colombo”.

Henry Charles, the author of “Ceylon and the Cingalese” compared Galle Face Green to Hyde Park in London. “At half past five the “Galle Face, or the Hyde Park of Colombo, begins to wear an animated appearance, there being many vehicles and horses in motion. Every description of conveyance to be seen driving around the Galle Face, from the Long Acre Built carriages of the Governor, the dashing phaeton of the wealthy merchant, the unassuming gig, the country- built palanquin and the humble bandy.”

The Galle Face Esplanade by John Deschamps shows the view from the ramparts of the Fort of Colombo facing the Galle Face Green. In the foreground are two Royal Military officers enjoying the scene. The Beira Lake, which was used for aquatic sports, the Round Pavilion, and Grand Stand of the Race Course are also in the background. The large bungalow towards the right of their view is the building that was later replaced by the Galle Face Hotel. The country house in the distant far right is the home of Governor Maitland, which later became the Mount Lavinia Hotel. The Race Bungalow, as the Grand Stand was later called, became The Colombo Club and still exists within the premises of the Taj Hotel.

In 1829, Sir Edward Barnes introduced horse racing at Galle Face after leveling a mile and a quarter of the grounds. While the upper floor of the conical-roofed race stand had the best views of the horse racing, it was also the venue for grand balls. The verandahs of the ball room were used for card playing, darts, and other favorite past times. By the 1830s, cricket and a whole host of Victorian sports and leisure activities were introduced and enjoyed by both the British and middle class locals, making it the most popular space in Colombo.

The Galle Face Railway Line Controversy (1873-75)

The railway line from Fort to the coast was originally planned to cut through the Galle Face Green. The Railway authorities set out an intended rail track from Maradana (the first railway station in Ceylon), Colombo Fort to Moratuwa cutting across Galle Face created a major controversy which involved the public, the legislative council, and the Governor of Ceylon.

The Times of Ceylon of Dec 4, 1873 stated – It is intended “to carry a line from a station to be constructed in the vacant plot near the Lotus Pond road, where passengers and goods from the Fort may be loaded, and where trains may run in connection with the railway station at Maradana; from the Fort Station, the line will diverge at the Police Station on the Galle Face, and skirt the sea-beach as far as Mount Lavinia”.

Public discontent at the impending desecration of the Galle Face walk soon became articulate – but the official trace by the railway planners did not appear to admit any change. On October 14, 1874, the Governor gave another version where he stated, “Inconvenience has been apprehended from trains running so near the road of the Galle Face, but care shall be taken that the train shall not run during evening”.

Some of the members of the Council were still discontent and by January 6, 1875 the tender notices for the construction of the Southern Line were published in the public press. The debate continued. The Government was prominently reminded of Sir Henry Ward’s recommendation of Galle Face to the Women and Children of Colombo by the Council and the public refused to be reconciled of this infringement. Yet the notices calling for tenders did not weaken the effort to save the Galle Face Walk.

The Council reminded the Governor of Galle Face’s dedication to the public and refused that it be desecrated and rendered unsafe by the “snorting and rattling and smoking vapours of the railway train”. The Governor responded by accepting the protest, since they represented the ladies of Colombo who were afraid that they will be deprived of their drive, and stated “I feel there is a good deal in this objection”.

On March 13, 1875, the Government took serious notice of the protests and assured the public that an alternate route will be used, which prompted the Observer in proclaiming in its issue of March 15, 1975: “GALLE FACE SAVED.”

Subsequently, the railway line from Fort as we see it today is connected to Compani Vidiya via an underground tunnel to the coast at Kollupitiya, honouring the decision to leave Galle Face Green untouched.The public recreation space and sacredness of Galle Face was saved, and allowed Sri Lankans to witness the historic mass independence rally on February 4, 1948. Radio Ceylon broadcasts were heard as far as Mount Everest, legendary school cricket matches, and most recently, the peaceful protests of the Aragalaya were also on Galle Face. The current legislators should learn their history and maintain the freedom and sanctity of this earth lung that is the only true free space in Colombo.



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Eshan Malinga keeps getting them in the second half

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Malinga took 4 for 32 against Delhi Capitals, his best bowling figures of the season so far [BCCI]

Life keeps throwing hurdles in his way, but Eshan Malinga keeps vaulting over them. Take his February from hell. For several months, Malinga had been building up to his first ever World Cup, a dream for pretty much anyone who ever picks up a cricket ball. But a week before that World Cup, Malinga dislocated his non bowling shoulder while bowling, which the team’s medical staff have since described as a freak injury they had never seen before.

“I was devastated,” Malinga says. “On top of it being my first World Cup, it was also at home and I didn’t know when I would get that chance again. There were a few days there where I did absolutely nothing.”

And yet in mid-May, here he is grinning from atop a pile of 16 IPL wickets,  having developed a serious reputation as a reverse-swing operator. Sunrisers  Hyderabad’s  explosive batters may have seized the spotlight in this frenetic IPL, but on the bowling front, no SRH bowler has neared Malinga’s wicket haul, which is fifth best in the season overall.  In a year in which they have not had Pat Cummins for seven of their 11 matches, it is Malinga who has held down the fort,  particularly in the second half of the innings.

But trading difficulty for success is just what Malinga does. What he has long been doing. Go back eight years and Malinga had never played a hard-ball cricket match. On top of which his home district of Ratnapura – at the base of Sri Lanka’s central hills – was better known for its gems and waterfalls than cricket, never having produced a men’s international. Malinga, additionally, was not even actively trying to be a cricketer. He had moved from his first school in a village called Opanayake to Ratnapura’s Sivali Central College due to strong academic results, and found, almost by accident, that his new school had a hard-ball cricket team.

But what Malinga knew at that point was that he could bowl fast. That much had been obvious growing up in Opanayaka, where despite his mother’s occasional misgivings, Malinga was highly sought after by the organisers of the village softball team (Sri Lanka has a thriving village-level softball cricket ecosystem). And as had been the case with the better-known Malinga, this one was also aware he possessed a killer yorker – a prized asset in every form of cricket, with any kind of ball.

If he’d been on track to be a softball legend, Malinga found his horizons began to expand at a spectacular rate the moment he got a hard ball in his hands. First, his yorker and his pace began to reap big wickets in the Division Three schools competition for Sivali Central, whose coach had immediately hoisted him into the team upon seeing Malinga bowl at practice one day. Then in mid-2019, about a year into playing hard-ball cricket, came the day he still reflects on as the one that changed his cricketing life. Having missed a fast-bowling competition in Ratnapura because he had been playing for his school that day, Malinga travelled to the hill town of Badulla to bowl in the competition there, and clocked 127kph on the gun, which was enough to win him first place.

This was when he first became a blip, however faint and distant, on Sri Lanka Cricket’s radar. Visions of a cricketing life began to appear as wisps of opportunity began to materialise. The next few years, Covid-riddled though they were, became a crash course into the sport for Malinga. There were coaching camps in Colombo in which the best of the rural talent was trained up and funnelled into a programme at the next level up. There were trials for first-class teams, and eventually a fledgling domestic career.

“I don’t know how many times I came to Colombo from Ratnapura during those times,” he laughs now. “It was a lot! I would leave home at about 3am, and the bus journey to Colombo took about three-and-a-half hours. Then I’d train or play the match, and the bus back home always took longer because of traffic. So every day, I was on the road for more than seven hours.”

The Malinga who made these exhausting daily commutes was, as far as the Sri Lankan cricket system was concerned, a bowler of decent rather than blinding promise. His pace had propelled him to the top of the regional pool, but at the first-class level he was still adapting his yorker and slower ball (another weapon he had developed in his softball days). If he needed another gear, Malinga found it – again almost by accident – sometime in 2022.

“I was playing an Under-23 three-day tournament, and I remember that being the first time I really started reverse-swinging the ball,” he says. “Coaches had anyway told me that with my action and my pace, it should be possible. But it started almost automatically. It’s not something I had to learn.

“But it wasn’t that easy, because it was a long process to learn how to control it. To get reverse swing, you have to release the ball at a different point than a straight ball, because you want it to still hit the stumps when it is swinging. So I scuffed up a lot of balls and trained hard to get that line right.”

And so, the Malinga that emerged at the end of 2022 had sharp enough pace, an excellent yorker, a developing slower ball, mountains of homespun tenacity, and had also discovered that he can naturally reverse-swing the ball earlier in an innings than most. You could have seen where this is going, right? All the ingredients of an ace white-ball bowler were there. And Malinga was already a master of turning wisps of opportunities into tangible advances. Over the next three years, he’d land a spot in the national fast-bowling academy, use that as a trampoline to impress in an Emerging Teams three-dayer against Bangladesh, and from there bounce into a stint at the MRF Pace Academy in 2024, before on the franchise side of things parlaying a trial at Rajasthan Royals at Kumar Sangakkara’s invitation into a decent run at the SA20 for Paarl Royals.

Having leapt up to the fringes of the Sri Lanka team over the past 18 months, Malinga has at this IPL now seized another unusual chance. The square at SRH’s home stadium is among the barest and most abrasive in the league, and Malinga’s reverse swing has prospered upon it. Of his 16 wickets this season, 11 have come at home. In the second half of the innings, when the ball is most likely to reverse, Malinga’s economy rate is 8.37 at a venue where runs have been scored at 9.38 in that period this season.

Malinga had put in a robust 2025 season for SRH as well, so there is a body of work emerging there. Perhaps this is why this year, SRH’s bowling plans have tended to follow the contours of Malinga’s own game.

“After six overs the ball gets damaged here, so we needed to make use of that. When I bowled at practice, the ball reversed, so I think a plan emerged where we were going to use the scuffed up ball and take advantage of that.

“In the first powerplay the ball comes on to the bat nicely here. After that we try to get the advantage of having an older ball. We’ve got bowlers who bowl 140kph-plus, and we have Pat Cummins, who also reverses the ball. So we make sure to look after the ball in a way that will give us reverse.”

At 25, eight years into a serious cricket career, Malinga sees himself as a work in progress. He wants to work on his powerplay bowling. His variations, he thinks, still need some work. He’d like to play Tests, where his reverse swing could really stretch its legs. And, oh, he is still waiting to play that first World Cup.

Even here, his keen nose for opportunity leads him. He points out through the course of our conversation that where the three previous World Cups had been played with a new ball at either end being used right through the innings, the next World Cup, in 2027, will feature rules that seem at least partially designed to enhance reverse swing, an older ball more suited to the craft now available towards the end of the innings.

He isn’t even a sure-fire pick in Sri Lanka’s ODI XI just yet, so this is just a flicker of an opportunity for now. But having made the journey from the village of Opanayaka to the most raucous cricketing showpiece on the planet, Malinga knows just what to do with those.

[Cricinfo]

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High Stakes in Pursuing corruption cases

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Kapila Chandrasena

The death of the most important suspect in the Sri Lankan Airlines Airbus deal has drawn intense public speculation. Kapila Chandrasena the former CEO of the heavily loss-making national airline was found dead under circumstances that the police are still investigating.

He had recently been arrested by the Commission to Investigate Allegations of Bribery or Corruption in connection with the controversial Airbus aircraft purchase agreement signed in 2013. Police investigations are continuing into the cause of death and whether or not he committed suicide. The unresolved death brings to light the high stakes involved in accountability efforts of this nature.

The uncertainty surrounding Chandrasena’s death has revived public memories of other mysterious deaths linked to corruption investigations and public scandals. Among them is the death of Rajeewa Jayaweera, a former SriLankan Airlines executive and outspoken critic of the Airbus transaction. He was following in the tradition of his father, the late foreign service officer and public servant Stanley Jayaweera who mentored the younger generation in good governance practices and formed the group “Avadhi Lanka” along with icons such as Prof Siri Hettige. Rajeewa had written a series of articles exposing irregularities in the deal before he was found dead near Independence Square in Colombo in 2020. The CCTV cameras in that high security area were turned off. Questions raised at that time whether or not he had committed suicide were not satisfactorily resolved.

The controversy about the cause of Chandrasena’s death is diverting attention away from the massive damage done to the country by the SriLankan Airlines deal itself. The value of the aircraft agreement was close to the size of the International Monetary Fund bailout package that Sri Lanka desperately needed by 2023 in order to stabilise the economy after bankruptcy. Sri Lanka’s IMF Extended Fund Facility amounted to about USD 3 billion spread over four years. The comparison shows the scale of the losses and liabilities that irresponsible and corrupt decisions have imposed on the country and which must never happen again.

Wider Pattern

The corruption linked to the Airbus transaction came fully into the open only because of investigations conducted outside Sri Lanka. In 2020 Airbus agreed to pay record penalties of more than EUR 3.6 billion to authorities in Britain, France and the United States to settle global corruption investigations. Sri Lanka was identified as one of the countries where bribes had allegedly been paid in order to secure contracts. The Airbus deal involved the purchase of six A330 aircraft and four A350 aircraft valued at approximately USD 2.3 billion. Investigations showed that Airbus paid bribes amounting to nearly USD 16 million in order to secure the contract. According to court submissions, at least part of this money amounting to USD 2 million was transferred through a shell company registered in Brunei and routed through Singapore bank accounts linked to the late airline CEO and his wife.

The commissions involved in this deal may seem comparatively small compared to the overall value of the contracts but devastating in their consequences. But they also show that a few million dollars paid secretly to decision makers could lead to the country assuming liabilities worth hundreds of millions or even billions of dollars over decades. This is why corruption is not simply a moral issue. It is a direct economic assault on the living standards of ordinary people. Money lost through corruption is money unavailable for schools, hospitals, rural development and job creation. In the end the burden falls on ordinary citizens who are left to repay debts incurred in their name without receiving commensurate benefits in return.

The SriLankan Airlines transaction gives an indication of the wider pattern of corruption and misuse of national resources that has taken place over many years. This was not an isolated incident. There were numerous large scale infrastructure and procurement projects that imposed heavy debts on the country while enriching politically connected individuals and their associates. Other projects such as the Colombo Port City, Hambantota Harbour and highway construction reveal a similar pattern.

Less publicised but equally damaging scandals have involved fertiliser medicine and energy contracts. Investigations into medicine procurement in recent years uncovered allegations that substandard pharmaceuticals had been imported at inflated prices causing both financial losses and risks to public health.

Moral Renewal

The present government appears determined to investigate major corruption cases in a manner that no previous government has attempted. Those who ransacked and bankrupted the treasury need to be dealt with according to the law. There is considerable public support for efforts to recover stolen assets and ensure accountability.

In his May Day speech President Anura Kumara Dissanayake stated that around 14 corruption cases were nearing completion in the courts this very month and called upon the public to applaud when verdicts are delivered. Political opponents of the government claim that such comments could place pressure on the judiciary and blur the separation between political leadership and the courts. But the deeper public frustration that underlies the president’s remarks also needs to be understood.

The challenge facing Sri Lanka is twofold. The country must ensure that justice is done through due process and independent institutions. If anti corruption campaigns become politicised they can lose legitimacy. But if corruption and abuse of power continue without consequences the country will remain trapped in a cycle of economic decline and moral decay. Sri Lanka also needs to confront past abuses linked to the war period. There are allegations of kidnapping, extortion, disappearances and criminal activity in which members of the security forces have been implicated. Vulnerable sections of the population suffered greatly during those years. If political leaders turned a blind eye or actively connived in such crimes they too need to be held accountable under the law. Selective justice will not heal the country. Accountability must apply across the board regardless of political position, ethnicity or institutional power.

Sri Lanka has paid a very heavy price for corruption and impunity. The economic collapse of 2022 did not occur overnight. It was the result of years of bad governance, reckless decision making, abuse of power and the misuse of public wealth. If the country is to move forward the focus cannot be diverted by sensational speculation alone. Suspicious deaths and political intrigue may dominate headlines for a few days. But the larger issue is the system that enabled corruption to flourish without accountability for so long. The real national task is to end that system. Sri Lanka cannot build a prosperous future on a foundation of corruption and impunity. Unless those who looted public wealth are held accountable and the systems that enabled them are dismantled, the country risks repeating the same cycle again.

Jehan Perera

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When University systems fail:Supreme Court’s landmark intervention in sexual harassment case

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Over seven years after making an initial complaint of sexual harassment against her research supervisor, Dr. Udari Abeyasinghe, then a temporary lecturer and now a senior lecturer at the University of Peradeniya, has been finally served justice. On May 8, 2026, the Supreme Court made the following directions regarding Udari’s fundamental rights case: “1) The 1st Respondent [her research supervisor] is prohibited from accepting any post, whether paid or not or honorary, in any university, educational institute or other academic institution; 2) The UGC to issue a direction to all universities and other institutions, coming under its purview, to abstain from giving any appointment, whether paid or not, or honorary, to the 1st Respondent; and 3) The University of Peradeniya, including the Council and respective Respondent [sic], are directed to take appropriate measures to enforce and raise awareness of the University of Peradeniya’s policy on Sexual or Gender-Based Harassment and Sexual Violence for staff and students, including conducting mandatory annual seminars for all academics, staff and students.” I recently spoke with Udari to learn about her experience battling the University’s sexual and gender-based violence (SGBV) procedures.

Violence and injustice

Udari was a temporary lecturer when she began working on her MPhil degree. Her research supervisor was a Senior Professor and Dean of her faculty. The harassment began in 2017.

When Udari reached out for support to the SGBV Committee of the University of Peradeniya, the Chair explained the complaint procedure, including how a third party could make a complaint on her behalf. In July 2018, Udari’s mother made a written complaint to the Vice Chancellor (VC). “The very next day [my supervisor] called me … and asked me to withdraw the complaint because it would look bad for me … the university should have taken measures to separate the complainant from the perpetrator … but nothing like that happened.”

Before making the formal complaint, Udari reached out to other academic staff at her Faculty. She shared her experience with a few close colleagues. Many advised her to leave the Faculty. “No one in the Faculty supported me publicly, although some sympathised privately … I was a temporary lecturer … no one really cared.” Some of her colleagues and non-academic staff who knew about the harassments, asked her to avoid involving them because they feared retaliation from higher powers.

Udari faced a preliminary inquiry and then a formal inquiry. The preliminary inquiry took place about four months after her complaint, and the inquiry committee recommended proceeding to a formal inquiry. The latter was held about a year after the initial complaint. “I got to know unofficially that [my supervisor] had got hold of all the statements made at the preliminary inquiry and pressured some colleagues to change their statements before the formal inquiry.” During the time of the formal inquiry, an anonymous letter (“kala paththaraya”) was circulated among staff: “It was a character assassination … the same kala paththaraya would get circulated from time to time.” After the formal inquiry committee submitted its report and recommendations, Udari was informed, in writing, that the University Council had dismissed the report.

“Neither the preliminary inquiry report nor the formal inquiry report were shared with me … I had to make a formal request to the VC and only then did I get a copy of the preliminary inquiry report… I had to get the formal inquiry report through an RTI (a request under the Right to Information Act). What I understand is that [my supervisor] had influenced the Council … that’s why they rejected the report…saying there had been a delay of six months to make a complaint ….” (N. B. there are no time limitations for submitting a complaint in the SGBV by-laws of the University of Peradeniya, although such time bars exist at other universities).

Udari then submitted formal complaints to the University Grants Commission (August 2020) and the Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka (December 2020), and finally filed a fundamental rights case at the Supreme Court in March 2021. Five years later, on May 8th 2026, Udari’s complaint was vindicated.

University procedures and inquiries

When her mother submitted the complaint against her supervisor, Udari was a temporary lecturer. She had given up her dream of pursuing an academic career because she did not think she would be recruited to a permanent position after making a complaint against a faculty member. It is encouraging that Udari was recruited, but in most instances, students and junior staff endure and stay silent to avoid jeopardising their academic careers. We currently have no procedures in place at universities to protect victims and witnesses from backlash.

According to Udari, the former Chair of the SGBV Committee and the members of her preliminary inquiry panel played a crucial role in her case, and, in her words, “could not be influenced.” But SGBV by-laws at state universities place inordinate power in the hands of the Council and VC. According to the SGBV by-laws of the University of Peradeniya, the Council appoints the 15-member SGBV Committee comprising “[t]wo (02) persons from among the members of the Council; [t]en (10) persons drawn from the permanent and senior members of the academic community; and [t]hree (03) persons external to the University, from among the retired academic or administrative staff of the University” (Section 2.1). While the by-laws recommend appointing persons who have demonstrated “gender-sensitivity, proven interest in working on issues of gender equality and equity, and trained to investigate and inquire into cases of sexual or gender-based harassment and sexual violence” (Section 2.1), we know this is often not the case. In many universities, VCs control which cases are taken up and end up in an inquiry. Most students and staff at state universities have little faith in the existing SGBV complaint procedures.

As Udari experienced, the decisions of inquiry committees can be overruled and dismissed by University Councils, indicating the importance of appointing appropriate members to the Councils. The Deans of faculties, who are Ex-officio members, usually collude to protect their own interests and fiefdoms, while the appointment of external members to Councils is deeply politicised. At present, there is no application process or vetting of candidates before they are appointed. They are usually persons who are seen to be sympathetic to the incumbent political dispensation. Furthermore, external members are dependent on the university hierarchy for information on the issues being discussed, the details of which are often hidden from them. It is not surprising then that University Councils would adjudicate on the side of power.

Final recommendation

Beyond barring Udari’s former research supervisor from holding positions in the university system, the Supreme Court has directed the University of Peradeniya to raise awareness on SGBV among staff and students. While SGBV is addressed in the induction courses and orientation programmes at universities, staff and students must be made aware of the nitty-gritties of complaint procedures, including time bars, which were crucial to the outcome of Udari’s case. But is raising awareness sufficient? Do we have ways to hold university authorities accountable for arbitrary and/or prejudicial decision-making and other abuses of power?

For Udari, life continues to be difficult, with constant surveillance of her activities.

“In November 2024 , I shared a post about my case.. it was a newspaper article stating that the Supreme Court had granted leave to proceed… I just took a photograph of it and posted it on my Facebook without any captions… a few weeks later I was summoned by higher authorities…I was informed that several academics had verbally complained about me using my social media to tarnish the name of the faculty and the university and, if that’s the case, that I should know that the University Council has the authority to take action against me … we also spoke briefly about the case and at one point I was told that this incident (harassment) happened to me because I showed some positivity towards (the perpetrator) …”

Let’s hope that university administrations pause before victimising and revictimising SGBV survivors in future. As a community, we have to rethink the hierarchical ways in which universities function and create a meaningful mechanism that supports students and staff to complain without fear of repercussion.

Thank you, Udari, for taking this step forward. University administrations will have to stop, listen and change their ways.

(Ramya Kumar is attached to the Department of Community and Family Medicine, Faculty of Medicine, University of Jaffna, and is an alumna of the 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.

By Ramya Kumar

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