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The Gunner Platoon at Weerawila Down South in 1971 – combating the JVP Insurgency

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A personal story as recalled by Capt F.R.A.B. Musafer 4th Regt SLA (Retd)

Background

The year 1971 was ushered in with a very pleasing political utterance to the public that the Army did not need guns but needed plowshares – agricultural machinery and tools to support the food drive. It was at a time when the Army, an essentially peacetime operation entrusted with the internal security of the country, had turned its attention to assist with national paddy cultivation and other agricultural projects countrywide.

With an estimated strength of around 8,000, the army was not a well equipped force by any means. It was frugal in outlook and dependent on existing resources. The military hardware was virtually hand-me-downs of the British Army and of World War II vintage. The bulk of the small arms in use were the old .303 Enfield rifles the rest were made up of light machine gun (LMG), sten gun (SMC) and the sterling sub machine gun (SMG) and the .38 Smith and Wesson pistols. The infantry units were being re-equipped with the 7.62 mm self loading rifle (SLR’s), a sophisticated and automated weapon in use by the British Army.

The Armoured corp was the glamour regiment equipped with Ferret scout cars and Daimler armoured cars that were impressive and operational. The Artillery regiment had four 76mm mountain guns gifted by Yugoslavia that were also operational, though the need for their use was considered far fetched. The regiment also had a battery of 3.7 inch anti-aircraft guns used for ceremonial gun salutes and a battery of 40mm Bofor anti-aircraft guns that were obsolete.

The army was subjected to a fair share of austerity as was the rest of the country; petrol was issued on a quota basis, the use of ammunition for training strictly monitored and some basic military essentials hard to come by.

The State of the Nation

In May 1970 the Sri Lanka Freedom Party under the leadership of Mrs Sirima Bandaranaike was swept into power with an overwhelming majority with the help of the left parties with whom the SLFP ran as a United Front (UF). The JVP, though not a political party, gave its support to the coalition as it was socialist in outlook and totally opposed to the capitalist ideologies of the United National Party.

The victory instilled in the people a new hope and they labeled it as the “Apey Anduwa” (Our Government) hoping that there would be an improvement to their lives. However as time progressed the hardships faced by the people did not appear to improve as the economic situation only worsened. Strict import and exchange control regulations were in place. Basic items such as bread, sugar, dhal and infant milk were rationed. Food, clothing and vegetables were expensive if not scarce. The transport of rice and chillies was prohibited. The cost of living had sky rocketed and the people feeling its effects were a disillusioned lot .

The Prelude

At the beginning of 1971 there were instances of bombs accidentally going off in various parts of the country predominantly in the Kegalle and Kandy districts. The roof of one of the buildings in the Peradeniya campus was damaged as a result of one of these explosions. Mixed signals were beginning to emerge that there was trouble brewing and the JVP, often dubbed the Che Guevara Movement, was behind the plans to initiate an armed insurrection. Intelligence gathered by the police revealed that the JVP was operating via a network of cells where members were indoctrinated by “Five Lectures” and directed to collect firearms and funds by robbing banks and individuals. Political rallies and clandestine meetings held by the JVP were gathering momentum and causing some serious concern to the government.

Around the beginning of March security around the Army cantonment at Panagoda was strengthened. Rumour was rife that there were elements of officers and soldiers sympathetic to the cause, if not members of the JVP. Extra precautions were taken to double the security of the arms and ammunition held in the camps. There was an air of suspicion and a lack of trust among the rank and file. There was also some concern that food and water was to be poisoned, so much so that the stray dogs in certain camps were fed before the troops.

In mid March a state of Emergency was declared with special powers of search without a warrant being entrusted to the Police. In conjunction with this the Army was to be deployed to assist the Police in search and cordon operations. Captain Satchi Ratnasabapathy from the Regiment of Artillery was sent to Hambantota to reconnoiter the area and liaise with the Police and Government Agent to assess the threats posed in the event of any actions initiated by the JVP that would disrupt the internal security of the region.

Meanwhile suspected high profile JVP activists and their leader Rohana Wijeweera were arrested and imprisoned in Jaffna. There was an assumption that the “Che Guevara” as they were referred to had plenty of sympathizers and supporters as there were several well attended, popular public meetings conducted in the Hambantota region. Intelligence reported that secret meetings of cell members were being held and basic military type training was being given to trusted cadres. JVP plans to collect weapons and raise funds by robberies etc were not taken seriously and pursued. The Hambantota/Tissamaharama district was considered to be a hotbed of JVP activity and identified as one of the most likely trouble spots in the island.

The deployment

At that time I was a lieutenant posted to 10 Battery at Trincomalee but was temporarily stationed at Panagoda in preparation for the Army inter-unit rugby tournament. On the evening of March 15 whilst at rugby practices I was summoned by the adjutant, Capt Siri Samarakoon, to his office where he told me in a voice dripping with sarcasm that I had won the lottery and was to take an IS (Internal Security) platoon and leave for Weerawila in the Hambantota district at the crack of dawn on March 17.

At the same time two artillery platoons from Trincomalee under the command of Capt Tissa Tillekeratne and Lt Lionel Balagalla were also to be deployed to Polonnaruwa and Hingurakgoda. There were other deployments to the Kegalle, Kandy, Anuradhpura and Moneragala districts from infantry and armoured corp detachments.

. On March 16 I was given my operational orders. I was also briefed by Capt Ratnasabapathy who assured me that based on local intelligence provided by the police he was of opinion that there was NO significant information of violent JVP activity in the Hambantota area but cautioned me about the wild elephants that roamed in the vicinity of the salt pans at night.

The platoon consisted of 31 men, which included three sergeants as section commanders and a cook. The platoon was armed with .303 rifles. A light machine gun (LMG) and three sterling sub machine guns (SMG) . As an officer I had the least effective weapon, a Smith and Wesson .38 calibre pistol that was more of a status symbol of authority. I was also issued with a sealed box of a thousand rounds of .303 ammunition with strict instructions not to break the seal unless absolutely necessary. It was also emphasized that I be very mindful of my personal security and that of the weapons at all times.

My transport was an old Willys jeep AY 3665 which on independence day parades looked very impressive, freshly painted with its windscreen down and hood taken off although it was patched up with paper and spray painted over to hide the rust and holes. There were three trucks detailed to carry the troops of which one would return to camp and the other, a new Indian five ton Tata Benz and a Beep (smaller version of a truck), to be used for operations. I was to be supplied with additional transport by the Government Agent Hambantota on my arrival in Weerawila.

On March 17 morning I left Panagoda at the crack of dawn having been bid farewell by Captain Noel Weerakoon who was the Battery commander of 11 Battery whose men I had taken charge of. He wished me “Good luck and God bless and take care of yourself “. Sadly it was a last farewell. He was killed in an ambush on April 8 at Ambewewa/Welioya. I think he was the first officer of the Army to be killed in action in this conflict and perhaps in the short history of the Ceylon Army.

The designated route was via Ratnapura and en-route we stopped at an army camp at Embilipitiya. The soldiers here had conveyed to some of the platoon that there were threats made of possible attacks on the camp via open postcards and were on extra guard duty.

Our base at Weerawila was to be the Old Tuberculosis hospital complex which had been uninhabited and abandoned. The GA and his staff had done their best to make this building habitable by restoring electricity and water.

The building we occupied, devoid of any furniture or fittings, was located in the middle of nowhere, isolated and off the main road and surrounded by dense overgrown shrub. In unfamiliar surroundings and not feeling secure I came to the conclusion that I could take no chances of being taken by surprise. The first thing I did was to disregard my orders and break the sealed box of ammunition and distribute some of it to the men and instruct them to keep their weapons by their side at all times.

Espirit de Corps and loyalty of the Regiment

It was a decision I made taking into consideration the utmost trust and loyalty of the soldiers under my command. “The Gunners” as those belonging to the regiment of artillery are generally referred to, were a close knit family (the gunner tribe) . Their loyalty and espirit de corps were always talked about in the army, best described in a message in the centenary celebrations of the Artillery in Sri Lanka in 1988 by the late Lt General Nalin Seniviratne, the commander of the army which said as follows:

“In the rich and colourful tapestry of Gunner history, an unbroken golden thread that runs across the entire fabric is that vibrant vitality of the Regiment, is their sense of unity and their espirit-de- corps “.

” Gunners are a unique family; in our family we the officers are very close to our men. The well being of our men has always been close to our hearts. We are proud of them,” as said by Lt Gen Hamilton Wanasinghe a gunner and a former Army commander would aptly describe the relationship we enjoyed. It was a unique bond between the officers and the men which made my decision so much easier at this time of great doubt and suspicion.

At Weerawila

Late in the evening two soldiers from the Ridiyagama farm that was being dismantled turned up and requested a guard. They too had received open postcards that their camp was to be attacked but had no weapons to defend themselves. I obliged by detailing two men. Unfortunately it became a daily assignment and was seen as a punishment chore. Weerawila was to be our home and operational base.

On March 18 I reported to The Government Agent Hambantota, Mr Sonny Goonewardene, who briefed me on the situation and reiterated that even though a state of emergency had been declared I was there only to assist the police and had no other powers. I was to work in liaison with the Assistant Superintendent of Police Tangalle, Mr Jim Bandaranayake who would coordinate my daily activities, in the absence of the ASP Hambantota. I was provided with two additional vehicles with civilian drivers to carry out my tasks.

The presence of the army in the Hambantota district may have intrigued the general public curious about why we were there. It was after a long time that the public had seen an army deployment in their locality and were perhaps bemused at the gun toting soldiers. The last time a military operation conducted in the Hambantota/ Tanamalwila area was in the late 1950’s named ‘Operation Ganja” where armoured cars and troops were used to destroy illicit ganja plantations in Tanamalwila and surrounding areas.

It was an operation made infamous for the unsuccessful legal action taken to prosecute Lt. Eustace Fonseka, a gunner officer, for the ill treatment meted out to the village headman of Hambegamuwa. who was alleged to be the mastermind and king pin of the ganja cultivation in the area. This operation was of a different nature.

Whilst we made our presence felt and were quite friendly the locals kept a fair distance from us wondering what the hell was going on.

Commencement of Operations /Searches

Initially we assisted the police traveling around the countryside in the military vehicles displaying our weapons which the police did not carry. We accompanied them to search homes of people suspected of involvement with the JVP. There was hardly any credible intelligence as most of our searches were more of a routine show of force and nothing else. There was no intimidation of the general public and not a single arrest was made in these joint operations.

One day when accompanied by the police sergeant at Walasmulla I observed that he was using these searches to intimidate some people whose political alliances were not the same as the govt in power. Every home and shop he took us into had a photograph of the former prime minister. It was not the first time this had happened but the continuation of this routine irked me.

This was not something that I could tolerate or an action that I could condone as it was in breach of my orders and furthermore the searches were fruitless. I contacted ASP Jim Bandaranayake and told him what was happening and that I was not prepared to assist the Police any further if this was all the intelligence they had.

Incidentally some months after the insurgency had been quelled the sergeant concerned was charged for the murder of some insurgents who were fleeing from army operations in the Sinharaja and Deniyaya areas being conducted by the army. They had been taken into custody by the police and on the pretext of being released shot and buried in a mass grave.

We continued to patrol and make our presence felt in Beliatta , Middeniya, Walasmulla, Ambalantota, Tangalle, Tissa, Kirinda and Hambantota with the assistance of the Police. We searched Wijeweera’s home in Tangalle occupied by his mother and sister. There were magazines titled ” Red China” and nothing else in this very clean and neatly kept house. This magazine was found in a number of places we searched including temples. His mother told us that she detested what her son was doing and had advised him to keep clear of politics. He had been arrested and imprisoned in Jaffna. They had a small poultry shed which I presumed gave them some sort of income.

Whilst there was very little of any material evidence to support an armed insurrection we did come across some very personal revelations. There was an instance when we found a diary of a person who had virtually kept a daily record of his sexual exploits in an affair with a girl across the road. The Kama Sutra may have been his manual. The sergeant who found the diary did not find the contents to his moral satisfaction darted across the road to the school nearby and divulged the contents to the head master. His audience showed no concern as perhaps they knew what had been taking place but were no doubt amused by the colourfully detailed narrative.

(To be continued next weekweek)



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The Digital Underground

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Illegal Foreign Exchange, Undiyal, Hawala and Money Laundering, A Four-Part Investigative Series

Forex Platforms, Cryptocurrency, AI and the New Financial Battlefield

THE INVISIBLE FINANCIAL EMPIRE – PART III

The Boyfriend Who Was Never Real

Priya, a 34-year-old professional in Colombo, met “David” on LinkedIn. He claimed to work in fintech in Singapore. For six weeks they exchanged messages daily, about work, about life, about a recent trip he had taken to the Maldives. Eventually, the conversation turned, gently and naturally, to money.

“I’ve been trading on this platform, let me show you,” he said, sharing a screenshot of a sleek trading dashboard showing consistent, impressive returns.

Priya invested a small amount first, $500. Within days, her dashboard showed it had grown to $650. She withdrew $100 successfully, just to test it. It worked. Encouraged, she invested more. Then more. Over two months, she transferred a total of $42,000 into the platform.

When she tried to withdraw her full balance, the platform demanded a “regulatory release fee” of $8,000 before funds could be unlocked. She paid it. Then another fee appeared. Then the platform stopped responding altogether. “David” vanished. The trading dashboard, the customer support chat, the entire brokerage, all of it had never been real.

This is what investigators now call “pig butchering”, and, in 2026, the most disturbing development is not the scam itself, which has existed for years, but what now powers it: artificial intelligence has industrialised the entire operation.

From Manual Fraud to Machine-Generated Deception

For most of the past decade, romance-and-investment scams, like the one that targeted Priya, required enormous manual labour. Scam operations, many of them staffed by trafficked workers held against their will in compounds across Myanmar, Cambodia, and Laos, needed real humans to build relationships with victims over weeks, manage fake trading platforms, and respond convincingly to questions.

That labour-intensive model has now been substantially automated. According to financial-crime researchers tracking this shift through 2026, threat actors are standing up entire AI-generated “brokerage” experiences end-to-end, complete with KYC onboarding, branded customer-service chat, animated portfolio dashboards, and falsified live market data feeds, and operating them at industrial scale against multiple victims simultaneously. Generative-AI relationship managers now front the WhatsApp and Telegram conversations that once required real human scammers. AI-cloned regulator letters are generated on demand to justify the fake “release fees” that drain victims a final time before the platform disappears.

What has changed is not the deception itself, it is the production economics. The cost of running a credible synthetic brokerage against one additional victim has collapsed, meaning a single criminal network can now run hundreds of “Davids” simultaneously, each one indistinguishable from a genuine fintech professional until it is too late. (Figure 01)

Sri Lanka: From Victim Pool to Operating Base

Sri Lanka’s relationship to this global scam economy has shifted in an alarming direction over the past two years. The country is no longer only a source of victims, it has become an operating base for the criminal networks themselves.

In April, 2026, Sri Lankan police raided a five-star hotel property, in Ambakandavila, and arrested 150 individuals, including 133 Chinese nationals, 13 Vietnamese nationals, and one Malaysian national, allegedly running a cyber fraud centre with links to international criminal syndicates, based in Myanmar and Cambodia. Investigators say the operation followed a now-familiar regional pattern: recruiters advertise “online marketing” or “data entry” jobs on social media to lure foreign workers to Sri Lanka, confiscate their passports on arrival, and force them to operate scam campaigns under threat.

The Central Bank of Sri Lanka has formally flagged pig-butchering scams as a “developing threat,” warning that foreign scam networks are increasingly targeting overseas nationals through scam farms operating from Sri Lankan soil. A 2026 United Nations report estimated that at least 300,000 people have been trafficked into scam centres across Southeast Asia.

This is not an abstract international problem. It is unfolding in hotels and rented properties across the country, exploiting the same infrastructure, high-speed internet, affordable accommodation, accessible tourist visas, that Sri Lanka has built to attract legitimate digital businesses and tourists.

Where the Money Actually Goes: The Stablecoin Pipeline

Behind every successful pig-butchering scam sits a laundering pipeline that has been transformed almost as dramatically as the scams themselves, and the transformation has a single dominant feature: stablecoins.

According to the Financial Action Task Force’s March 2026, report, drawing on analysis from blockchain intelligence firms Chainalysis and TRM Labs, stablecoins accounted for 84% of the USD 154 billion in illicit virtual asset transaction volume recorded in 2025, the highest share ever observed, and a dramatic jump from just 15% only a few years earlier. TRM Labs separately found that illicit entities received USD 141 billion in stablecoins, in 2025 alone, the highest level observed in five years. (See Table 01)

The scale of state-level abuse is striking. A Russian sanctions-evasion network built around the ruble-pegged stablecoin A7A5 processed more than USD 72 billion in total volume in 2025.

Fighting Fire with Fire: AI on the Defensive Side

The same artificial intelligence reshaping financial crime is also, out of necessity, reshaping the defence against it. Legacy anti-money laundering systems, built on static, rule-based thresholds, have proven badly outmatched by AI-generated fraud operating at machine speed. Research cited by compliance technology analysts suggests that between 90% and 95% of alerts generated by legacy AML systems are false positives, consuming enormous investigator time while genuinely suspicious activity slips through.

This is not a frictionless transition. AI models are notoriously difficult to explain to regulators and examiners in the way traditional rule-based systems are. The practical compromise emerging across the industry is a hybrid model: AI handles the initial scoring and prioritisation of risk, while documented rule-based logic still governs the final decision that must be defensible to a regulator.

The Regulatory Response: Catching Up to the Digital Frontier

Regulators worldwide have begun moving to close the most dangerous gaps exposed by this digital transformation of financial crime. (See Table 02)

What Comes Next

We have now traced this investigation from the centuries-old mechanics of Hawala and Undiyal, through the three-stage architecture that turns criminal proceeds into apparently legitimate wealth, to the AI-generated frontier of digital financial crime reshaping all of it at machine speed.

In our concluding instalment, Part IV: “Sri Lanka at the Crossroads: Economic Consequences, Organised Crime and the Road Ahead”, we bring this series home. We examine precisely what all of this costs Sri Lanka in hard economic terms: lost remittances, exchange rate pressure, tax revenue forgone, and the 2026 FATF evaluation that will determine whether the country’s institutions can demonstrate, with evidence rather than legislation alone, that they are equal to this challenge. We close with a practical policy roadmap.

(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT, Malabe.
Views expressed in this article are personal.)

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‘There are no private universities in Sri Lanka’ – some considerations for higher education reform

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Academics involved in education policy like to say that there is no such thing as a private university in Sri Lanka. The only ‘universities’ in the country are state universities; anything else offering degrees is a private higher education institution (HEI). This position is technically accurate. Yet, in the discourse and imagination of the public, private universities are very real – people teach in them, students register in them, families pay fees, and such degree holders enter job markets in Sri Lanka and outside.

For decades, activists concerned for public higher education have ignored or resisted looking at private HEIs, as if such scrutiny would taint them. Others have worked in both types of institutions, carrying practices from each to the other. The apex body governing state universities, the UGC, has, meanwhile, ignored the concept of conflict of interest and appointed individuals in private higher education in committees and leadership positions. It is unsurprising then that some of the ideologies informing private higher education appear in reform agendas in the state sector.

This is a good time then to consider the varying types of private HEIs around us, and to take a look at some of the issues within them in the hope that higher education reform agendas will include private, as well as state higher education.

What is a ‘private university’?

First, some clarifications. In the public imaginary, a ‘private university’ is typically an institution that provides a foreign or local degree for which the student makes a payment. But this broad classification encompasses a host of diverse institutions and types of degrees which I detail below.

The Non-State Higher Education Division (NSHE) of the Ministry of Education has recognised 295 degrees by 32 institutions. Most of these are private companies and include a handful of established, well-known private HEIs that are ‘university like’. The degrees are local degrees conferred by the institutions accredited by the NSHE Division. While private HEIs conferring local degrees must be accredited by the NSHE Division, there appears to be no legal consequence for not doing so. In addition, there are several permutations of the private degree that miss the net of this Division and the Standing Committee on Accreditation and Quality Assurance (SCAQA) that assists this Division.

For one, degrees conferred by foreign universities offered, via these same private HEIs, are not vetted by the NSHE Division. Secondly, there is a growing plethora of private HEIs which have either no physical presence locally or only a dubious presence. The University Grants Commission has notified the public, through their website, that foreign universities listed in the Commonwealth Universities Yearbook and the World Higher Education Database are recognised, but refrained from giving any other details – which degrees? Offered by what modes? These details are not known. Some of the foreign universities in the lists may be legitimate entities in their own land but the degrees conferred locally, in their name, may not adhere to curriculum or teaching specifications of the NSHE Division or the UGC.

Another troubling phenomenon is the ‘top up degree’, which appears to work on the same principle as that of a pre-paid mobile connection: if I have a Diploma or an HND of a sort, I am eligible to complete a course of study which provides me with a degree, usually from a foreign university. The idea that someone who does not initially qualify for a degree programme should be able to work their way towards one is a progressive notion. This is the concept that open and distance learning (ODL) was based on initially, but which is now sadly exploited. ODL models are expected to provide opportunity for learning for those who may be excluded from traditional learning institutions. In Sri Lanka, however, we have seen ODL become a marketplace offering easy to obtain, for-fee qualifications by institutions with little commitment to superior teaching and learning.

Finally, a perusal of the many types of private HEIs and their varied degrees bring to mind another question – how should the private degrees, provided by state institutions (that are not educational institutions), be regulated? Who should do so?

All of these create a host of problems for the public – for hopeful students and parents and trusting employers. For the higher education sector, recruitment of academic staff, too, has become difficult due to this plethora of ambiguous higher education qualifications, as I discussed in a previous Kuppi article (‘Recruiting academics to state universities’).

Some issues in private HEIs – a bellwether for change in state universities

In this second part of this article, I will discuss some aspects of work in private HEIs – albeit the more established institutions – given that such issues may appear in reform agendas in future.

Across state universities, all permanent staff of a specific category are paid according to the same criteria. The picture is not so clear when it comes to private HEIs since they are different entities legally, typically companies. Private HEIs have salary scales and financial incentives that are different to each other. The more established private HEIs reportedly have attractive renumeration packages, possibly a reason for academics of state universities migrating eagerly to such institutions during sabbatical years and on retirement. This may not of course be the case with other less established, or improperly registered HEIs of which we know little. Academic staff of these more accepted private HEIs seem to value the high financial remuneration they receive (in comparison to state universities) as something that makes their work rewarding.

Attractive remuneration is important to sustain the good life and is at times seen as the institution’s way of encouraging good work. Yet, this has implications for the future of the institution: to continue to deliver on promised financial packages, institutions must continue to have large profit margins. One strategy has been to enroll multiple cohorts of students per year, even up to three or four intakes per year. This can result in exploitative work conditions, since staff must cater to all these cohorts in that same year. If there is inadequate staff, employees are further burdened. On the other hand, if there is a sudden drop in enrolments (degrees can go out of fashion) unexpected layoffs occur. Similar to other sectors that employ short-term contract staff – including state universities – in private HEIs, too, individual teachers, who are on short term contracts that need regular renewal, can feel pressured to work under difficult or exploitative conditions.

At the same time, even in the more established private HEIs, work norms differ from those of state universities in that they include promotional work that keeps the institution’s name in the eye of the public. The Marketing (or similarly named) unit comes up in conversations as one of the most important departments. It appears to weigh in on decision-making related to the number of staff, the amount of re-sits per exams, and other pedagogically important matters. This is a worrying example of how financial rationales interfere with pedagogically or academically sound processes, resulting in problematic results in the classroom. On the plus side, junior colleagues, who had experience in both state and private HEIs, also felt that they faced less harassment in private HEIs – primarily due to the private HEIs ability to take swift action in reported cases of harassment. This is a real indictment on state institutions and their reluctance to address chronic issues of harassment in our universities.

Yet, while we hear much about problems in state universities, we hardly hear of problems that staff in private HEIs face. One rationale for a lack of public expressions by staff is that expressions of discontent might lead to trouble given the importance of reputation for private HEIs. The worry about reputational damage is a growing concern in state universities, too, as evidenced by social media policies and internal conversations on reputational damage, consequent to negative publicity. Institutional worries of reputational damage are harmful in the long run since these impact not only freedom of expression by student and staff, but also research that is possible in and about the education sector.

Some thoughts at the end…


A close look at the private higher education sector is important given its strong presence in the country. Impending reform needs to regulate this diverse array of higher education offerings in the private sector, as well as the state institutions that offer privately-funded options of higher education (a topic for a separate Kuppi on its own). It is time we carefully considered how to build a whole system of higher education out of this broken mess.

Kaushalya Perera is a senior lecturer at the University of Colombo.

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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Ready for solo spotlight

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Nish Peiris: Excited about future plans

Singer Nish Peiris is set to take the next big step in her music journey.

The talented vocalist, who has been seen and heard in the scene here for a short while, and was also featured with the now-defunct band, Inner Vision, has announced that she will be fully committing to her solo career, after completing her degree this year.

“I’m finishing my degree this year, and after that I’ll be fully committing to my solo music career,” Nish told The Island.

“I’ve already got a few tours lined up for next year, so I’m really excited for what’s ahead.”

Fans, no doubt, will remember Nish for her smooth voice and stage presence, and the good news is that she is now ready to chart her own path and bring new music to audiences at home and abroad.

With tours already planned for 2027, the year 2026 promises to be an exciting year for the young artiste as she steps into the spotlight on her own.

We wish Nish every success in this new chapter!

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