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The story of Wellawatte

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Wellawatte beach, though not very wide, is of any significance in Colombo, the rest of its shoreline being with little or no beach with plenty of rock (Courtesy Asiff Hussein)

Asiff Hussein, the Author of The Great Days of Colombo, speaks to The Island on how Wellawatte came to be and the origins of its street names.

Interviewed by Ifham Nizam

Q: You have covered Wellawatte fairly extensively in your book, The Great Days of Colombo. Could you share with our readers something about your findings in the course of your research?

A:Wellawatte is a fairly new addition to Colombo City which originally started in the Fort and Pettah areas before expanding to the outlying areas, like Cinnamon Gardens and the long stretch from Colpetty to Wellawatte, which is its southernmost limit.

Although today Wellawatte is a very busy part of Colombo, it was not very populated until about a century ago. Its Sinhala name literally means ‘Sandy Garden’. This suggests a rather deserted area or sandy wasteland. It could also mean ‘Beach Garden’. In contrast to the more northern coastal areas of Colombo, Wellawatte has a small beach which also has a swimming club of its own, the famous Kinross Club.

That it originally meant ‘beach garden’ is supported by the statement of Dr. P.R.C. Peterson who, in his memoirs Great Days (2001); speaks of his childhood in Wellawatte: “When we were a little older we used to play in the garden near the railway station, where we had to dodge a few coconut trees as we ran about. The owner once introduced two donkeys into the garden. We lads made some reins of coir rope and bits of coconut branches and rode these animals bareback“.

But could there be more to it ? It is possible that Wellawatta actually got its name from wasteland that could have come about here after it was inundated by sea water from a Tsunami, or tidal wave, a long time ago. As a result, the salty soil would have ensured it remained barren for a considerable time. This is supported by the discovery of a horizon of Sandstone, or Beach Rock, a kilometre inland from the seacoast, at the Wellawatte Spinning and Weaving Mills, as well as the presence near the coast there of coral reef beneath the top soil.

Here, underneath a layer of vegetable earth, was found a stratum of sea sand with marine shells, overlying a reef or stratum of coral fragments, with the coral reef itself resting on course grey sandy clay. So what this shows is that the sea had made incursions into the land in remote times and converted it into a sandy wasteland of sorts, which could explain the origin of the name Wellawatte.

Fishing on the headland facing the sea on Bambalapitiya-Wellawatte border (Courtesy Asiff Hussein)

Q: So how did Wellawatte evolve to what it is today, a very busy cosmopolitan zone of Colombo if it was so sparsely populated back then?

A: I guess that’s because the Burghers and Tamils decided to move in and call it home. Much of the property, on the seaside of Wellawatte, is believed to have been a vast coconut estate, owned by a Burgher gentleman named Charlemont Jonathan Gauder. In fact, it is after him and his relatives that many of the roads of Wellawatte, such as Charlemont Road, Frederica Road, Collingwood Road, Alexandra Road and Frances Road are named. Other prominent Burgher familiess, who lived in Wellawatte about a century or so ago, were the Christoffelsz who lived at Lyttelton, Ephraims who lived at Homerton, the Gauders who lived at Chrislyn and the Pouliers who lived at Lawrence Villa.

Indeed as late as the 1960s, Burgher men could be seen lazily lounging in the verandahs of their houses on either side of Galle Road. The existence of a Dutch Reformed Church, on Galle Road, must have also helped unite the Burghers here. These Burghers jealously preserved their anglicized lifestyle, even until the 1960s when the men wore lounge suits or, in the least, long-sleeved shirts and cravats to the 6 o’clock film at the Savoy, and their wives donned hats and wore gloves to Evensong at the Dutch Reformed Church, close to Arethusa Lane. Carl Muller, in his novel Yakada Yaka, vividly brings out the Burgher ethos of the area in the following vein: “Old Phoebus would come, and Jerry Jonklaas and Dumbo Matthysz from Arethusa Lane”.

Another impetus came from the Tamils. In fact, Wellawatte is humorously referred to as Little Jaffna after its huge Tamil population. Many Jaffna Tamils seem to have settled here in the couple of decades before independence. They were mainly into clerical jobs in various government departments. These government servants lived with fellow Tamil clerks as boarders in chummeries situated a little away from Galle Road.

Available records show that in the inter-war years, especially the 1920s, there were Tamils serving government or as company clerks who were settled in Perera Lane, Hampden Lane and Fernando’s Lane. There were others living as boarders in places such as Boswell Place and High Street until as late as the 1960s. Over time, they would have amassed enough wealth to buy properties there and get down their families. Before this, they had to look after their families up north and used to remit much of their salaries via money order through the Wellawatte Post Office.

Another community that moved in fairly early were the Moors. In fact, there is a Moor Road on the seaside of Wellawatte. There is also a very large mosque, one of the largest in Colombo, on Galle Road.

So here we have it. It was the settlement here of various minority communities that facilitated the transition of Wellawatte from a largely uptown residential area to the booming downtown area it is today. With the coming of the Tamils, the famous vegetarian restaurants of the area boomed and when the Moors came, the “Muslim hotels” were not long in coming. Over time, other restaurants and sweet houses to meet the varied tastes of its mixed population followed. And so we have the culinary paradise that is Wellawatte today.

Q; What can you tell us about the street names of Wellawatte and how they originated?

A: As I mentioned earlier, Wellawatte is a relatively recently developed urban area. As such its street names are not very old. In fact, only a few seem to go back to over a century.

Geoff Ells in his book Colombo Jumbo, published in 2012, has done a lot of good work on the street names of Wellawatte, though there are other little-known street names, some now lost, that I was able to trace going through old records.

The Burghers, as I said, were a prominent community in the early days of Wellawatte. One such Burgher family, who originally hailed from Germany and who contributed a lot to the street names here, were the Gauders who owned land on both the sea side and land side of Galle Road. There was already a Gauder’s Lane in Wellawatte in the early 1900s where photographer Finlay Ingleton lived though it has since been lost.

In later times we hear of Charlemont Road named after Christian Charle-Mount Gauder, Hotel and landed proprietor who lived at Chrislyn in Wellawatte, Frederika Road named after his aunt, Frances Road after his daughter-in-law and Alexandra Road which must have mistakenly called thus after his son Alexander. Collingwood Place must have been named after Hector Collingwood Gauder, another member of the family.

Asiff Hussein

Poulier’s Lane, now known as Pereira Lane, must have been named after a Burgher gentleman going by the name of Poulier and was known from the 1930s, if not earlier. Its present name of Pereira Lane probably takes after George Pereira, Station Master for the Ceylon Government Railway. We also hear of St. Boswell’s Road in Wellawatte in the early 1900s until about WW I and it is possible that this is identical with Boswell Place which is suppose to have been named after the famous British travel writer James Boswell. Vaverset Place off Galle Road was known from the 1920s though it is surprisingly hard to trace whom it was named after. In the 1930s also spelt as Vaversett Place.

Pennyquick Road seems to take its name from Charles Pennyquick, a Ceylonese Civil Servant who became Mayor of Colombo in the 1890s during whose tenure the eradication of stray dogs was taken to an all new high with a gas chamber since he deemed drowning the poor creatures in the Beira Lake inhumane. De Almeida Place seems to have been named after a scion of the family of that name since we hear of Villa Sorrets in De Almeida Place where Dr. Milanious De Almeida lived in the inter-war years. And Hamer’s Avenue takes after a scion of the Burgher family of Hamer.

High Street which leads from Galle Road to Pamankade also seems to be quite old and was known in the inter-war years, if not before. It was renamed W. A. Silva Mawatha in the 1960s after well known Sinhala novelist Wellawattearchchige Abraham Silva who lived down the road in his family residence Silvermere. Stratford Avenue which leads to Kirulapone Junction takes after the birthplace of British playwright William Shakespeare Stratford-Upon-Avon. What seems to have influenced the naming of this road is the bridge over the canal which it leads to, just like the one over the Avon in England. Ash Tip Road seems to have once been the site of a municipal waste disposal operation. It is known in Sinhala as Aluwala Para (Ash Pit Road).

Peterson Lane probably takes its name from a much-respected government clerk George Peterson who lived down the lane. Dr .P. R. C. Peterson in his memoirs Great Days (2001) holds that the lane was so called after his father George who served in the clerical establishment, a much-respected position back then in the 1890s.

He recalls how the name came to be when one Sunday morning his father was in his garden and the Assistant Government Agent passed by on horseback along what was then a footpath and was asked by him if there was a name to the lane. Pat came the reply: “No name, but the village folk, the children and so on call it Peterson Lane”. The AGA called on his subordinate to make a note of it and it was henceforth officially called as such.

Geoff Ells in his book on Colombo’s Street Names mentions an Andarewatta Road in Wellawatte whose old name he gives as Second Lane and whose origins he traces to the Andrees, a surname borne by a prominent Burgher family of Prussian origin. However, I have since not been able to trace such a road in Wellawatte though there is one such road in the Havelock Town zone. Could Ells have been mistaken or was there a road in Wellawatte named by some of its residents as such?

There are also a few street names that seem to have disappeared. These include Niles Place and Cool Path Lane which were known in the inter-war years and occur in the Supplement to the Ceylon Government Gazette of December 11, 1925. There was also a Pond Road and Botejue Lane off Galle Road Wellawatte in the inter-war years. By the 1930s we hear of Colonel’s Avenue where there was a house called Lilac and where one Samy Lebbe Marikkar lived. We also hear of Theatre Road in Wellawatte where one Sorab Darashaw lived in the early 1930s.

It’s, indeed, strange what happened to these street names. Did they disappear just like that or were they replaced by other street names? I guess this is an area where more research is needed.



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Rebuilding Sri Lanka Through Inclusive Governance

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Management Committee of the 'Rebuilding Sri Lanka' Fund Appointed with Representatives from the Public and Private Sectors - PMD

In the immediate aftermath of Cyclone Ditwah, the government has moved swiftly to establish a Presidential Task Force for Rebuilding Sri Lanka with a core committee to assess requirements, set priorities, allocate resources and raise and disburse funds. Public reaction, however, has focused on the committee’s problematic composition. All eleven committee members are men, and all non-government seats are held by business personalities with no known expertise in complex national development projects, disaster management and addressing the needs of vulnerable populations. They belong to the top echelon of Sri Lanka’s private sector which has been making extraordinary profits. The government has been urged by civil society groups to reconsider the role and purpose of this task force and reconstitute it to be more representative of the country and its multiple  needs.

 The group of high-powered businessmen initially appointed might greatly help mobilise funds from corporates and international donors, but this group may be ill equipped to determine priorities and oversee disbursement and spending. It would be necessary to separate fundraising, fund oversight and spending prioritisation, given the different capabilities and considerations required for each. International experience in post disaster recovery shows that inclusive and representative structures are more likely to produce outcomes that are equitable, efficient and publicly accepted. Civil society, for instance, brings knowledge rooted in communities, experience in working with vulnerable groups and a capacity to question assumptions that may otherwise go unchallenged.

 A positive and important development is that the government has been responsive to these criticisms and has invited at least one civil society representative to join the Rebuilding Sri Lanka committee. This decision deserves to be taken seriously and responded to positively by civil society which needs to call for more representation rather than a single representative.  Such a demand would reflect an understanding that rebuilding after a national disaster cannot be undertaken by the state and the business community alone. The inclusion of civil society will strengthen transparency and public confidence, particularly at a moment when trust in institutions remains fragile. While one appointment does not in itself ensure inclusive governance, it opens the door to a more participatory approach that needs to be expanded and institutionalised.

Costly Exclusions

 Going  down the road of history, the absence of inclusion in government policymaking has cost the country dearly. The exclusion of others, not of one’s own community or political party, started at the very dawn of Independence in 1948. The Father of the Nation, D S Senanayake, led his government to exclude the Malaiyaha Tamil community by depriving them of their citizenship rights. Eight years later, in 1956, the Oxford educated S W R D Bandaranaike effectively excluded the Tamil speaking people from the government by making Sinhala the sole official language. These early decisions normalised exclusion as a tool of governance rather than accommodation and paved the way for seven decades of political conflict and three decades of internal war.

Exclusion has also taken place virulently on a political party basis. Both of Sri Lanka’s post Independence constitutions were decided on by the government alone. The opposition political parties voted against the new constitutions of 1972 and 1977 because they had been excluded from participating in their design. The proposals they had made were not accepted. The basic law of the country was never forged by consensus. This legacy continues to shape adversarial politics and institutional fragility. The exclusion of other communities and political parties from decision making has led to frequent reversals of government policy. Whether in education or economic regulation or foreign policy, what one government has done the successor government has undone.

 Sri Lanka’s poor performance in securing the foreign investment necessary for rapid economic growth can be attributed to this factor in the main. Policy instability is not simply an economic problem but a political one rooted in narrow ownership of power. In 2022, when the people went on to the streets to protest against the government and caused it to fall, they demanded system change in which their primary focus was corruption, which had reached very high levels both literally and figuratively. The focus on corruption, as being done by the government at present, has two beneficial impacts for the government. The first is that it ensures that a minimum of resources will be wasted so that the maximum may be used for the people’s welfare.

Second Benefit

 The second benefit is that by focusing on the crime of corruption, the government can disable many leaders in the opposition. The more opposition leaders who are behind bars on charges of corruption, the less competition the government faces. Yet these gains do not substitute for the deeper requirement of inclusive governance. The present government seems to have identified corruption as the problem it will emphasise. However, reducing or eliminating corruption by itself is not going to lead to rapid economic development. Corruption is not the sole reason for the absence of economic growth. The most important factor in rapid economic growth is to have government policies that are not reversed every time a new government comes to power.

 For Sri Lanka to make the transition to self-sustaining and rapid economic development, it is necessary that the economic policies followed today are not reversed tomorrow. The best way to ensure continuity of policy is to be inclusive in governance. Instead of excluding those in the opposition, the mainstream opposition in particular needs to be included. In terms of system change, the government has scored high with regard to corruption. There is a general feeling that corruption in the country is much reduced compared to the past. However, with regard to inclusion the government needs to demonstrate more commitment. This was evident in the initial choice of cabinet ministers, who were nearly all men from the majority ethnic community. Important committees it formed, including the Presidential Task Force for a Clean Sri Lanka and the Rebuilding Sri Lanka Task Force, also failed at first to reflect the diversity of the country.

 In a multi ethnic and multi religious society like Sri Lanka, inclusivity is not merely symbolic. It is essential for addressing diverse perspectives and fostering mutual understanding. It is important to have members of the Tamil, Muslim and other minority communities, and women who are 52 percent of the population, appointed to important decision making bodies, especially those tasked with national recovery. Without such representation, the risk is that the very communities most affected by the crisis will remain unheard, and old grievances will be reproduced in new forms. The invitation extended to civil society to participate in the Rebuilding Sri Lanka Task Force is an important beginning. Whether it becomes a turning point will depend on whether the government chooses to make inclusion a principle of governance rather than treat it as a show of concession made under pressure.

by Jehan Perera

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Reservoir operation and flooding

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Floods caused by Cyclone Ditwah

Former Director General of Irrigation, G.T. Dharmasena, in an article, titled “Revival of Innovative systems for reservoir operation and flood forecasting” in The Island of 17 December, 2025, starts out by stating:

“Most reservoirs in Sri Lanka are agriculture and hydropower dominated. Reservoir operators are often unwilling to acknowledge the flood detention capability of major reservoirs during the onset of monsoons. Deviating from the traditional priority for food production and hydropower development, it is time to reorient the operational approach of major reservoirs operators under extreme events, where flood control becomes a vital function. While admitting that total elimination of flood impacts is not technically feasible, the impacts can be reduced by efficient operation of reservoirs and effective early warning systems”.

Addressing the question often raised by the public as to “Why is flooding more prominent downstream of reservoirs compared to the period before they were built,” Mr. Dharmasena cites the following instances: “For instance, why do (sic) Magama in Tissamaharama face floods threats after the construction of the massive Kirindi Oya reservoir? Similarly, why does Ambalantota flood after the construction of Udawalawe Reservoir? Furthermore, why is Molkawa, in the Kalutara District area, getting flooded so often after the construction of Kukule reservoir”?

“These situations exist in several other river basins, too. Engineers must, therefore, be mindful of the need to strictly control the operation of the reservoir gates by their field staff. (Since) “The actual field situation can sometimes deviate significantly from the theoretical technology… it is necessary to examine whether gate operators are strictly adhering to the operational guidelines, as gate operation currently relies too much on the discretion of the operator at the site”.

COMMENT

For Mr. Dharmasena to bring to the attention of the public that “gate operation currently relies too much on the discretion of the operator at the site”, is being disingenuous, after accepting flooding as a way of life for ALL major reservoirs for decades and not doing much about it. As far as the public is concerned, their expectation is that the Institution responsible for Reservoir Management should, not only develop the necessary guidelines to address flooding but also ensure that they are strictly administered by those responsible, without leaving it to the arbitrary discretion of field staff. This exercise should be reviewed annually after each monsoon, if lives are to be saved and livelihoods are to be sustained.

IMPACT of GATE OPERATION on FLOODING

According to Mr. Dhamasena, “Major reservoir spillways are designed for very high return periods… If the spillway gates are opened fully when reservoir is at full capacity, this can produce an artificial flood of a very large magnitude… Therefore, reservoir operators must be mindful in this regard to avoid any artificial flood creation” (Ibid). Continuing, he states: “In reality reservoir spillways are often designed for the sole safety of the reservoir structure, often compromising the safety of the downstream population. This design concept was promoted by foreign agencies in recent times to safeguard their investment for dams. Consequently, the discharge capacities of these spill gates significantly exceed the natural carrying capacity of river(s) downstream” (Ibid).

COMMENT

The design concept where priority is given to the “sole safety of the structure” that causes the discharge capacity of spill gates to “significantly exceed” the carrying capacity of the river is not limited to foreign agencies. Such concepts are also adopted by local designers as well, judging from the fact that flooding is accepted as an inevitable feature of reservoirs. Since design concepts in their current form lack concern for serious destructive consequences downstream and, therefore, unacceptable, it is imperative that the Government mandates that current design criteria are revisited as a critical part of the restoration programme.

CONNECTIVITY BETWEEN GATE OPENINGS and SAFETY MEASURES

It is only after the devastation of historic proportions left behind by Cyclone Ditwah that the Public is aware that major reservoirs are designed with spill gate openings to protect the safety of the structure without factoring in the consequences downstream, such as the safety of the population is an unacceptable proposition. The Institution or Institutions associated with the design have a responsibility not only to inform but also work together with Institutions such as Disaster Management and any others responsible for the consequences downstream, so that they could prepare for what is to follow.

Without working in isolation and without limiting it only to, informing related Institutions, the need is for Institutions that design reservoirs to work as a team with Forecasting and Disaster Management and develop operational frameworks that should be institutionalised and approved by the Cabinet of Ministers. The need is to recognize that without connectivity between spill gate openings and safety measures downstream, catastrophes downstream are bound to recur.

Therefore, the mandate for dam designers and those responsible for disaster management and forecasting should be for them to jointly establish guidelines relating to what safety measures are to be adopted for varying degrees of spill gate openings. For instance, the carrying capacity of the river should relate with a specific openinig of the spill gate. Another specific opening is required when the population should be compelled to move to high ground. The process should continue until the spill gate opening is such that it warrants the population to be evacuated. This relationship could also be established by relating the spill gate openings to the width of the river downstream.

The measures recommended above should be backed up by the judicious use of the land within the flood plain of reservoirs for “DRY DAMS” with sufficient capacity to intercept part of the spill gate discharge from which excess water could be released within the carrying capacity of the river. By relating the capacity of the DRY DAM to the spill gate opening, a degree of safety could be established. However, since the practice of demarcating flood plains is not taken seriously by the Institution concerned, the Government should introduce a Bill that such demarcations are made mandatory as part of State Land in the design and operation of reservoirs. Adopting such a practice would not only contribute significantly to control flooding, but also save lives by not permitting settlement but permitting agricultural activities only within these zones. Furthermore, the creation of an intermediate zone to contain excess flood waters would not tax the safety measures to the extent it would in the absence of such a safety net.

CONCLUSION

Perhaps, the towns of Kotmale and Gampola suffered severe flooding and loss of life because the opening of spill gates to release the unprecedented volumes of water from Cyclone Ditwah, was warranted by the need to ensure the safety of Kotmale and Upper Kotmale Dams.

This and other similar disasters bring into focus the connectivity that exists between forecasting, operation of spill gates, flooding and disaster management. Therefore, it is imperative that the government introduce the much-needed legislative and executive measures to ensure that the agencies associated with these disciplines develop a common operational framework to mitigate flooding and its destructive consequences. A critical feature of such a framework should be the demarcation of the flood plain, and decree that land within the flood plain is a zone set aside for DRY DAMS, planted with trees and free of human settlements, other than for agricultural purposes. In addition, the mandate of such a framework should establish for each river basin the relationship between the degree to which spill gates are opened with levels of flooding and appropriate safety measures.

The government should insist that associated Agencies identify and conduct a pilot project to ascertain the efficacy of the recommendations cited above and if need be, modify it accordingly, so that downstream physical features that are unique to each river basin are taken into account and made an integral feature of reservoir design. Even if such restrictions downstream limit the capacities to store spill gate discharges, it has to be appreciated that providing such facilities within the flood plain to any degree would mitigate the destructive consequences of the flooding.

By Neville Ladduwahetty

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Listening to the Language of Shells

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The ocean rarely raises its voice. Instead, it leaves behind signs — subtle, intricate and enduring — for those willing to observe closely. Along Sri Lanka’s shores, these signs often appear in the form of seashells: spiralled, ridged, polished by waves, carrying within them the quiet history of marine life. For Marine Naturalist Dr. Malik Fernando, these shells are not souvenirs of the sea but storytellers, bearing witness to ecological change, resilience and loss.

“Seashells are among the most eloquent narrators of the ocean’s condition,” Dr. Fernando told The Island. “They are biological archives. If you know how to read them, they reveal the story of our seas, past and present.”

A long-standing marine conservationist and a member of the Marine Subcommittee of the Wildlife & Nature Protection Society (WNPS), Dr. Fernando has dedicated much of his life to understanding and protecting Sri Lanka’s marine ecosystems. While charismatic megafauna often dominate conservation discourse, he has consistently drawn attention to less celebrated but equally vital marine organisms — particularly molluscs, whose shells are integral to coastal and reef ecosystems.

“Shells are often admired for their beauty, but rarely for their function,” he said. “They are homes, shields and structural components of marine habitats. When shell-bearing organisms decline, it destabilises entire food webs.”

Sri Lanka’s geographical identity as an island nation, Dr. Fernando says, is paradoxically underrepresented in national conservation priorities. “We speak passionately about forests and wildlife on land, but our relationship with the ocean remains largely extractive,” he noted. “We fish, mine sand, build along the coast and pollute, yet fail to pause and ask how much the sea can endure.”

Through his work with the WNPS Marine Subcommittee, Dr. Fernando has been at the forefront of advocating for science-led marine policy and integrated coastal management. He stressed that fragmented governance and weak enforcement continue to undermine marine protection efforts. “The ocean does not recognise administrative boundaries,” he said. “But unfortunately, our policies often do.”

He believes that one of the greatest challenges facing marine conservation in Sri Lanka is invisibility. “What happens underwater is out of sight, and therefore out of mind,” he said. “Coral bleaching, mollusc depletion, habitat destruction — these crises unfold silently. By the time the impacts reach the shore, it is often too late.”

Seashells, in this context, become messengers. Changes in shell thickness, size and abundance, Dr. Fernando explained, can signal shifts in ocean chemistry, rising temperatures and increasing acidity — all linked to climate change. “Ocean acidification weakens shells,” he said. “It is a chemical reality with biological consequences. When shells grow thinner, organisms become more vulnerable, and ecosystems less stable.”

Climate change, he warned, is no longer a distant threat but an active force reshaping Sri Lanka’s marine environment. “We are already witnessing altered breeding cycles, migration patterns and species distribution,” he said. “Marine life is responding rapidly. The question is whether humans will respond wisely.”

Despite the gravity of these challenges, Dr. Fernando remains an advocate of hope rooted in knowledge. He believes public awareness and education are essential to reversing marine degradation. “You cannot expect people to protect what they do not understand,” he said. “Marine literacy must begin early — in schools, communities and through public storytelling.”

It is this belief that has driven his involvement in initiatives that use visual narratives to communicate marine science to broader audiences. According to Dr. Fernando, imagery, art and heritage-based storytelling can evoke emotional connections that data alone cannot. “A well-composed image of a shell can inspire curiosity,” he said. “Curiosity leads to respect, and respect to protection.”

Shells, he added, also hold cultural and historical significance in Sri Lanka, having been used for ornamentation, ritual objects and trade for centuries. “They connect nature and culture,” he said. “By celebrating shells, we are also honouring coastal communities whose lives have long been intertwined with the sea.”

However, Dr. Fernando cautioned against romanticising the ocean without acknowledging responsibility. “Celebration must go hand in hand with conservation,” he said. “Otherwise, we risk turning heritage into exploitation.”

He was particularly critical of unregulated shell collection and commercialisation. “What seems harmless — picking up shells — can have cumulative impacts,” he said. “When multiplied across thousands of visitors, it becomes extraction.”

As Sri Lanka continues to promote coastal tourism, Dr. Fernando emphasised the need for sustainability frameworks that prioritise ecosystem health. “Tourism must not come at the cost of the very environments it depends on,” he said. “Marine conservation is not anti-development; it is pro-future.”

Dr. Malik Fernando

Reflecting on his decades-long engagement with the sea, Dr. Fernando described marine conservation as both a scientific pursuit and a moral obligation. “The ocean has given us food, livelihoods, climate regulation and beauty,” he said. “Protecting it is not an act of charity; it is an act of responsibility.”

He called for stronger collaboration between scientists, policymakers, civil society and the private sector. “No single entity can safeguard the ocean alone,” he said. “Conservation requires collective stewardship.”

Yet, amid concern, Dr. Fernando expressed cautious optimism. “Sri Lanka still has immense marine wealth,” he said. “Our reefs, seagrass beds and coastal waters are resilient, if given a chance.”

Standing at the edge of the sea, shells scattered along the sand, one is reminded that the ocean does not shout its warnings. It leaves behind clues — delicate, enduring, easily overlooked. For Dr. Malik Fernando, those clues demand attention.

“The sea is constantly communicating,” he said. “In shells, in currents, in changing patterns of life. The real question is whether we, as a society, are finally prepared to listen — and to act before silence replaces the story.”

 

By Ifham Nizam

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