Features
Three generations share their experiences of menstruation
“When I was young, a girl who got her first period was scared and frightened,” Burkinabe grandmother Marie, 73, tells her daughter, Aminata, and teenage granddaughter, Nassiratou, 18 – who calls her grandma “Yaaba”.
The three women sit together beneath a tree in their village in west-central Burkina Faso, engaged in forming balls of seeds to make a condiment called soumbala. “The girl’s mother would give her a sheepskin to sleep on until the bleeding stopped,” confides Marie. “At that time, girls and women were isolated during their periods. They washed their sheepskin and protective cloths every day, which is why in the Moore language, we use the word ‘washing’ to refer to the time of menstruation.”
In Paraguay, 73-year-old grandmother Maria also shared her experience of periods with her daughter, Ester, 51, and 16-year-old granddaughter Alma, Ester’s niece. “We didn’t use to talk about it,” Maria says. “We, in secret, had to deal with it and there were no sanitary pads or anything. You had to use cloths, wash and iron them.”
![[Photo: Plan International]](https://www.aljazeera.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/PlanInternationalPy-125-1716301827.jpg?w=770&quality=80)
On any given day, in all corners of the world, about 300 million women and girls are having their periods, according to a report by a collection of non-governmental organisations (NGOs) advocating for investment in menstrual health.. At the same time, one in four lack access to menstrual health products or clean toilets reserved for girls, according to a report by the social change non-profit advisory group, FSG.
Some are forced to use materials such as old newspapers, rags, earth, sand, ash, grass or leaves to manage their periods – like grandmother Bui Non in Cambodia, who, as a young girl, used pieces of a sarong as makeshift sanitary towels. “I cut the fabric into pieces,” Bui Non, 57, says. “After a week, I buried or burnt those fabrics.”
Taboos, stigma and myths from long ago still abound in many rural communities around the world, with a culture of silence and shame often surrounding the issue of menstruation. Beninese grandmother Angel remembers how women in her day were not allowed to cook over a fire or serve food to their fathers if they were menstruating.
For Inna, a Togolese grandmother, things were even more challenging. “The family had to find a room on the roadside where the menstruating girl had to spend her entire period. Then, the family alerted the whole village.” Still, in many communities, girls are excluded from everyday life and opportunities, especially school, when they are on their period.
Nowadays, when girls are able to manage and talk about their periods, it is often down to longstanding community health projects working with girls and boys, women and men to encourage intergenerational dialogue to break down taboos and barriers about menstrual health. “It’s a matter of rights,” says Inna’s 16-year-old granddaughter, Denise, who – like all the teenagers in this article – participates in such a community project run by Plan International, a humanitarian organisation working to advance children’s rights and equality for girls in 80 countries around the world.
“Before, no head of the family would allow a discussion session like the one we’re having today about menstruation in his family,” agrees Aminata in Burkina Faso. “The change nowadays is clear.”

Marie, 76, in Burkina Faso, demonstrates the type of cloth she was forced to use as a young girl when she had her periods [Plan International]
In the past, women in Burkina Faso used a thick, traditional, cotton cloth called Faso Danfani to manage their periods, which, says 76-year-old grandmother, Marie, often caused irritation between the thighs. By the time her daughter Aminata got her period, a newer, cheaper industrial wax fabric was available. “Our mothers gave us pieces of cloth to protect ourselves,” explains Aminata, “and that was it; we didn’t talk about it any more.” At first, Aminata found talking about periods to her own daughter awkward – “because we were both ashamed”, she says, laughing. “Now, we still talk about it with a little embarrassment, but thanks to the awareness sessions, we’ve understood that menstruation is completely normal, and it’s important to talk about it.”
![[Photo: Plan International/IssoEmmanuelBationo]](https://www.aljazeera.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/DSC08337-1716301510.jpg?w=770&quality=80)
As she speaks, Aminata is helping her daughter, Nassi, 18, who calls her “M’maa”, lift a large basket onto her head. It is not particularly heavy but Burkinabe women traditionally help each other put things on their heads, symbolising solidarity and togetherness.
“In my community, a woman on her period who takes proper precautions can do whatever she wants and go wherever she wants,” says Nassiratou. Not all the taboos have been lifted: “However, she shouldn’t cook for the Muslim fast, go to the mosque, touch the Quran, approach fetish altars, or touch certain traditional medicines.”
Nassi has her own toilet, and when she needs sanitary pads, she asks her mother for money to buy them. “Today’s discussion has brought me a lot, because it allowed me to travel through three generations – my grandmother’s, my mother’s, and mine. Before, I was ashamed to talk about periods with my mother, but now I’m comfortable. I can even talk about it with my grandmother!”

Assana, 24, (right) with her mother, Gnoussiado, 60, whom she calls ‘Inami’, and her grandmother, Akoyiki, 80, whom she calls ‘Afeno’, in their village in Togo [Plan International]
“When I was young, girls who were on their periods were not allowed to prepare or serve food to their fathers,” says Akoyiki. “That practice was known to everybody, and no girl would be accused of laziness or lack of respect for it.”
In the past, women in her village of Elavagnon in Togo used pieces of red cloth as sanitary pads, which were held in place by a string of pearls fastened around their waists.
“Once the cloth was nice and tight, we felt very comfortable,” says Assana’s mother, Gnoussiado. “In our time, a girl on her period could not be seen by, or interact with men, with the exception of her husband. The girl on her period was not allowed to go out as she pleased.”
Though Assana, 24, admits girls still get teased if they have a stain on their clothes, things have changed for the better. “We wear pants and bras. For our generation, we’re more comfortable thanks to disposable pads that can be bought everywhere. Even during our periods, we’re able to do any kind of activities without worrying too much.”

“It was difficult for me during my periods because I was afraid of staining my uniform,” says Blanche, who attends a club in Benin run by Plan International, which teaches girls about menstrual health and encourages and facilitates intergenerational dialogue on the subject.
“My school didn’t have toilets adapted to the needs of girls, and I had to go home every time to freshen up. Several times I missed my lessons. The distance between the house and the school is not negligible, and it was difficult to commute each time.”
Grandmother Angel got her first period when she was 15. “I spoke to my mum about it straight away, and she got me a piece of loincloth. You hung the piece of cloth on a belt of pearls around your waist. We usually reinforced the filling with another one.”
![[Photo: Plan International/IzlaBethdavid]](https://www.aljazeera.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Benin-2024_IzlaBethdavid-2163-1716301459.jpg?w=770&quality=80)
When Angel was young, it was forbidden for girls on their period to prepare food for their father. “The fathers made spiritual amulets to protect themselves and their families, but these items lost their powers when they came into contact with menstruating women.
“Girls were also forbidden from handling fire during their periods – that is, cooking, because of the risk of bleeding too much. We were careful not to get too close to the fire, it was too strong. We were also careful not to eat too much sugar or fat.”
In contrast, Angel’s daughter, Pierrette, who is now 42, was allowed to cook for the whole family, though many myths remained, and she avoided going out during her period – often for practical reasons. “When I tried to walk a long distance, I got injuries between my thighs caused by the fabric padding rubbing against my skin, which was painful and very annoying.”

Seila, 13, (right) with her mother, Sokna, 35, (left) and her grandmother, Bui Non, 57 (centre) in Siem Reap province, Cambodia [Plan International]
“We didn’t have sanitary pads in my day,” says Bui Non, 57, who lives in Cambodia, “so I cut fabric from a sarong into pieces. I washed them to reuse for only a week. After a week, I buried or burnt those fabrics – unlike now, where you can easily buy and use sanitary pads.”
“When my daughter had her period, I kept telling her to clean herself and use fabric as a pad. If she felt sick, I’d help by doing skin coining once per period – we rub balm into the chest, back and shoulders until red is seen. This could relieve the pain.”
“I didn’t have access to sanitary pads when I was Seila’s age,” says Sokna, 35, whose daughter is 13. “I used soft fabric by cutting a skirt, a sarong or shorts. The hard fabric could burn my thighs, making me feel uncomfortable and sweaty. I took a shower three times daily to feel fresh.”

Teenager Seila learned about periods from different sources, including watching videos and reading posts online, as well as from her grandmother. “I feel comfortable discussing menstruation with my close friends, but I haven’t discussed menstruation with any male family members or friends yet. I feel embarrassed about it.”
Rahamatu, 19, (right) with her mother, ‘mama’ Sakina, (left) and her grandmother, also Rahamatu but known as ‘Kaka’, 58, (centre), at home in Bauchi, Nigeria [Plan International]
Nigerian grandmother Rahamtatu, 58 – also known as “Kaka” in her family – says: “In the past, mothers were often afraid to tell fathers when their daughters were menstruating, because some fathers wouldn’t understand, and might even blame the girls for doing something wrong, as if we were chasing men and boys.
“Some husbands would even avoid their wives when they were menstruating. Some wouldn’t eat their wives’ food, but nowadays, husbands are more understanding. There’s still room for more awareness and acceptance, especially for the younger generation.”
“In my time, I couldn’t discuss my condition with anyone,” Kaka’s daughter, Sakina, says. “We had to wash the cloth we used, but nowadays, with the availability of sanitary pads, there’s no need for washing. They simply use and dispose of them, and this is a noticeable change.

Sakina’s daughter, Rahamatu, receives sanitary pads at school as part of a Plan International project. “Before, when girls got their period, we’d help each other out and use a clean cloth like our school head tie or wrapper,” says Rahamatu, who is a peer educator for the project, and visits other girls and their families to talk to them about menstruation.
“Some girls couldn’t attend school because of their periods, but thanks to the project, we got sanitary pads at school, which was a big deal. I’m much more confident talking about menstruation now. My friends are excited too.”

“So as not to suffer later, we couldn’t eat tomatoes, fish, eggs or lemons,” laughs grandmother Paz, 80, chatting at home with her granddaughter, Hazel, 18, and her daughter, Ana, 47, in Chalatenango, El Salvador. “After the period, yes, we could eat whatever we wanted. My mum used to tell me that I couldn’t go to the river because the water would enter through the pores and that was bad, so what you used to do was to use old clothes, cut them into strips, and fold them. After being used, they were burned.”
“The project was very impactful on my life as a girl,” says Hazel, a peer educator for Plan International’s project in Chalatenango called Power of Red Butterflies. “I was taught about my body, and they explained to me about my first period, my menstrual cycle and how to be prepared for that moment. We were a little group of girls, and it was very special, the trusting and sharing of ideas.”

Denise, 16, talks to her mother, Esther, 36, and grandmother, Inna, 72, about menstrual health in central Togo [Plan International]
Menstruation was long a taboo subject in this village in central Togo, where 16-year-old Denise, talking to her grandmother Inna, 72, whom she calls Dada, and her mum, Esther, 36, whom she calls Mon’do, takes part in a Plan International community education and awareness-raising project about menstrual health. The project tackles gender discrimination and stigma, and offers practical support for girls to access menstrual products.
“As the period approached, the girl had to prepare for it by secretly buying products like talcum powder, body ointment, and a comb,” explains Inna about life when she was a young girl. “On the first day of her period, we had to hide and call our mother or one of our sisters to help in secret. It was forbidden to enter the house.
![[Photo: Plan International/IzlaBethdavid]](https://www.aljazeera.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Togo-2024_IzlaBethdavid-0780-1716301864.jpg?w=770&quality=80)
In her day, Inna would wear pieces of cloth wound around beads as a sanitary pad. “For four days, from morning to night, the village brought food to the girl out of goodwill. Children came to spend time with the girl. During the day, all the girls of menstruation age would go to the river and bring water for her. In the evenings, girls and boys would visit her and pass the time talking, eating, singing and having fun with her.
“Men and boys, even if they were your brothers, were not supposed to see menstruation cloths. It was forbidden, and we carefully hid them.”
A ceremonial laundry session would mark the end of the girl’s period, and, with her friends, the girl would cover herself with talcum powder to re-enter the village. “Among the group, some of the older ones tried to escape from the rule,” laughs Inna. “We had to run after them to make sure everyone got the talcum powder.
“Back home, the family of the girl brought us white rice with peanut sauce, and every girl who’d been to the river would bring a bowl from her house to get rice, and drink. On the fifth day, the girl who’d finished her period took a good bath, wore beautiful traditional cloths and pretty beads.”
“I understand that my mother’s generation suffered a lot,” says teenager Denise. “For me, if I don’t have enough money for pads, I buy a few of these reusable sanitary napkins, which I can wash and dry in the sun when necessary. My wish is that the price of reusable pads be reduced. They’re too expensive.”

Grandmother, Halima, 58, (centre) with her daughter, Deiya, 41, (right) and granddaughter Faulat, 21, in Nairobi, Kenya [Lorenzo Maccotta/Plan International]
In Nairobi, Kenya, Faulat, 21, calls her grandmother, Halima, 58, “Shosho”. “In the olden days, periods were shameful,” says Halima. “A girl would lock herself in for days without going to school, until it was over.
“The modern children are hard-headed. There is a difference. They just do not care during their periods. They do not respect their cycle as we used to. We were very secretive about it, unlike them.”
“During our time, we were also ashamed,” says Faulat’s mum, Deiya. “You couldn’t even pass near a boyfriend. Nowadays, this generation doesn’t take it as a big issue. It’s seen as something very normal. But for me, when I’m on my periods, I don’t like it. I’d rather relax and stay at home.”
![[Photo: Plan International/LorenzoMaccotta]](https://www.aljazeera.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Maccotta_PLAN_selection-22-2-copy-1716301796.jpg?w=770&quality=80)
Faulat’s mum was able to support her when she got her first period. “She really cried,” admits Deiya, “but we sat her down and talked to her, and she got to understand, but she was still afraid.”
“It caught me off guard,” admits Faulat. “I wasn’t prepared. It came just like a sickness.”
In 2020, having had a difficult time coping with her periods, Faulat joined Kibera Joy, a Plan International partnership which supports girls with information, and sanitary pads. “It’s very open and you’re told things openly,” says Faulat. “Before, I used to buy sanitary towels, but sometimes my mother didn’t have the means, and she’d tell me to use pieces of cloth. At Kibera Joy, you may go for the pads at any time you wish.”
(Aljazeera)
Features
Regime change and the vacuum:Strategic lessons of Iraq and Libya
by Col. (R) Nalin Herath
There is a question that the international community must periodically ask itself: What happens to a State after its regime has been ousted?
The question is particularly relevant when examining Iraq and Libya. Saddam Hussein and Muammar Gaddafi were authoritarian rulers. Their governments were associated with political repression, human-rights violations and the suppression of political opposition. None of this should be ignored or excused. But recognising the failures of authoritarian rule does not prevent us from asking another, equally important strategic question:
Did the removal of these regimes adequately prepare for what came next?
The experience of Iraq and Libya suggests that removing a ruler is considerably easier than replacing the political, administrative and security architecture around that ruler.
Danger of confusing regime change with State reconstruction
A state is more than its leader. It consists of institutions, security forces, civil servants, courts, political structures, infrastructure, economic systems and, perhaps most importantly, an accepted monopoly over the legitimate use of force. When an authoritarian system has concentrated enormous power around one individual, removing that individual can expose weaknesses that were previously hidden. The strategic mistake is to assume that once the dictator has gone, a democratic and stable state will naturally emerge. History does not support such an assumption. The aftermath of Iraq demonstrates this particularly clearly. Following the 2003 invasion, the Coalition Provisional Authority issued Order No. 2, formally dissolving the Iraqi Ministry of Defence and the Iraqi Army, among other security institutions. A US congressional report later documented the enormous consequences of this decision, including the disappearance of hundreds of thousands of military personnel from the institutional framework of the state. Whatever the intentions behind the decision, the strategic consequence was that an established security structure had to be rebuilt while the country was simultaneously experiencing political upheaval and growing violence. That is a dangerous combination.
Iraq: Removing the structure before building the replacement
Saddam Hussein’s government was unquestionably authoritarian. It also reflected a complicated sectarian and political structure in which members of the Sunni minority occupied disproportionate positions of power despite being a demographic minority. But the question for strategic planners should not simply be whether Saddam deserved to remain in power. The question should have been:
What institutional structure would replace the system once he was removed?
An army can be politically controlled without being politically representative. A bureaucracy can serve an authoritarian government while still providing essential state functions. A security institution can be reformed without necessarily being destroyed. The distinction between reforming institutions and eliminating institutions is therefore critical. The post-2003 experience demonstrated the consequences of institutional disruption. Security vacuums contributed to insurgency and instability, while the process of rebuilding Iraq’s security forces took place amid an increasingly deteriorating security environment. The lesson is not that authoritarian institutions should never be reformed. The lesson is that state capacity should not be casually destroyed without a credible replacement.
Libya: prosperity, authoritarianism and institutional fragility
Libya presents an even more complicated case. Gaddafi’s government was authoritarian and deeply personalised. Political freedom was severely restricted, and the security apparatus was deliberately structured around regime survival. Yet Libya, under Gaddafi, also used substantial oil revenues to fund education, healthcare, infrastructure and social services. World Bank data from around the end of the Gaddafi era show life expectancy reaching approximately 75 years by 2011, skilled attendance at birth at 100 percent and measles immunisation at 98 percent. This does not prove that Gaddafi’s system was politically legitimate. It demonstrates something different: economic and social outcomes can coexist with authoritarian political structures.
The Great Man-Made River illustrates the scale of Libya’s investment ambitions. The World Bank described the project as one of the world’s largest engineering schemes, involving thousands of kilometres of planned pipelines to transport water from deep desert aquifers toward the populated coastal belt. The original project was estimated at approximately US$ 25 billion over several phases. Again, this should not become nostalgia for dictatorship. It should become a lesson in state capacity.
What happened after Gaddafi?
The post-2011 experience is perhaps the clearest illustration of the vacuum problem. Libya did not simply move from dictatorship to a consolidated democratic state. Instead, competing armed groups, political factions and institutions emerged. A UN economic and social affairs analysis concluded that the fall of the Gaddafi regime exposed weak state institutions and that the post-Gaddafi period was characterised by the proliferation of armed militias and institutional fragmentation.
The World Bank has similarly described how the security vacuum allowed armed groups to expand, while attempts to integrate them into the formal security apparatus produced a hybrid system in which state institutions and powerful armed groups operated alongside one another. This is the heart of the lesson. The consequences of regime change were also evident in Libya. The 2012 Benghazi attack, later portrayed in 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi, illustrated the security vacuum that emerged after Gaddafi’s fall. The collapse of central authority allowed militias and competing armed groups to fill the space left by weakened state institutions. The lesson is clear: removing a regime may achieve military victory, but without a credible plan to rebuild the state, victory can quickly become a security vacuum.
When the state withdraws, something else occupies the space. If the replacement is not a legitimate national institution, the vacuum can be filled by militias, tribes, ideological movements, criminal networks or competing political authorities. The vacuum does not remain empty.
Terrorism question
There is another uncomfortable issue. Authoritarian regimes frequently suppress political and armed movements through coercive security systems. When those systems disappear abruptly, previously contained organisations can find new operating space. This does not mean that dictatorship is an appropriate method of counterterrorism. It means that counterterrorism cannot be separated from State capacity. The international community therefore needs to distinguish between defeating a particular terrorist organisation and maintaining the institutional conditions that prevent multiple armed actors from competing for power. The destruction of one regime does not automatically eliminate the forces that created insecurity. Sometimes it creates an environment in which those forces multiply.
Strategic mistake: winning the war but losing the peace
Military intervention can have a clearly defined operational objective. State reconstruction does not. A military campaign may successfully remove a government in weeks or months. Building legitimate institutions can take decades.This creates a fundamental strategic asymmetry. The shorter the planning horizon for intervention, the greater the danger of a long-term vacuum. The international community therefore needs to think beyond the first question: How do we remove the regime?
It must ask: Who governs the country the next morning? Who controls the borders? Who controls the security forces? Who pays government employees? Who maintains electricity, water and hospitals? Who protects critical infrastructure? Who administers justice? Who prevents armed groups from becoming alternative governments? Who provides political legitimacy? And perhaps most importantly: Who possesses the authority to enforce the decisions of the new state? If there are no convincing answers, regime change is only the beginning of the problem.
The lesson should not be that the United States or its allies should never intervene. Nor should it be that Saddam Hussein or Muammar Gaddafi should be rehabilitated as models of governance. The lesson is more practical. Regime change must never be confused with state-building.
Before dismantling an established political order, external powers need a credible understanding of the institutions that will replace it. Security-sector reform should normally distinguish between individuals who must be removed and institutions that must be preserved. A national army may need reform. A ministry may need restructuring. A security service may need accountability and civilian oversight. But destroying institutional capacity without having an operational replacement can create consequences far beyond the original objective.
Wider geopolitical lesson
The consequences of Iraq and Libya did not remain within their borders. State fragmentation affects neighbouring countries, migration, organised crime, arms trafficking, terrorism, energy markets and regional power competition. In today’s interconnected world, a failed transition in one country can become a security problem for an entire region. That is why intervention planning should include not only military objectives but also political, economic, humanitarian and security-sector objectives. The most important planning document may therefore not be the operational plan for removing the regime. It may be the plan for Day One after the regime has disappeared.
History should not be written as a simple choice between dictatorship and democracy. The real strategic challenge is more complicated. Saddam Hussein and Muammar Gaddafi were dictators. Their governments committed serious abuses, and their populations had legitimate grievances. But the failures of authoritarian rule do not automatically justify the destruction of state institutions without a credible plan for rebuilding them. The experience of Iraq and Libya demonstrates a fundamental principle of international security: A political vacuum is not neutral space. Someone will fill it. If legitimate national institutions cannot fill that space, armed groups, sectarian interests, extremist organisations or foreign-backed factions may do so. The ultimate lesson for the United States, its allies and the wider international community is therefore straightforward:
Removing a regime may win the immediate battle. Building a legitimate, functioning and secure state determines whether the intervention succeeds in the long term. The world should learn to ask not only “How do we remove the dictator?”. It must also ask:
“What happens to the country when he is gone?”
That may be the most important strategic question of all.
(The writer is the Secretary General of the Ceylon Chamber of Shipping, former Director General of the Institute of National Security Studies (INSS), and former Spokesman of the Ministry of Defence. He is also a Non-Resident Fellow at the London Dialogue. His areas of expertise include international relations, geopolitics, maritime affairs, national security, economic policy, and strategic governance. He is a consultant at JITT Group and a member of World Pace Board.).
Features
‘Death at the Sign of the Rook’
Tales of Mystery and Suspense – 23
By Prof. Rajiva Wijesinha
As I have noted with regard to the adventures of John Rebus, I am indebted to Dinali Fernando and her husband Steve for whole hosts of thrillers. The latter strongly recommended Kate Atkinson when I borrowed four books. I wondered about this, for I had not been too impressed with her debut novel, Behind the Scenes at the Museum, which was amongst the entries I had to judge for the Eurasian section of the Commonwealth Writing Prize. Two decades later, I had forgotten what it had been about.
But I am glad Steve persuaded me to read her. Kate Atkinson is distinctively British, and Death at the Sign of the Rook is set in a country house and the surrounding village, and seems a modern descendant of the laidback Agatha Christies I so much enjoy.
There are, however, many differences in that we have a policeman who can go rogue, like Rebus, with again a female sidekick who has a mind of her own, again like Rebus. But Jackson Brodie has retired and set up as a private investigator, while Reggie, a young lady, is still in the police.
There is a lesbian couple living in the converted dairy of the manor house, as has occurred in Agatha Christie too, in A Murder is Announced. But they are peripheral to the story, unlike Ben, the brother of one of them who left the army after losing a leg in Afghanistan. When he turns up at the Manor House to shelter from a snowstorm, along with its chatelaine, Lady Milton, he is asked to answer the door as various characters turn up, including Jackson and Reggie, who then starts fantasising about him.
The others who turn up are two couples, one from America, who have paid for a murder weekend at the hotel. The family is impoverished, and has sold lots of pictures to survive, but most recently a Turner had been stolen, almost certainly by Lady Milton’s housekeeper Sophie, who vanished one night along with the picture. Reggie had been involved in that investigation, but there had been no trace of either picture or young lady.
Jackson Brodie suspects a connection between that theft and the one he has been called in to investigate, which has not been reported to the police. The picture hung opposite the bed of an old woman whose carer vanished after she died, along with it. Her children, adopted twins, have asked Jackson to investigate and also try to trace the carer, though he suspects something strange in that they did not go to the police.
Brodie, in studying the stolen art, is also struck by the disappearance of a Rembrandt from a house in Scotland, along with a member of the cleaning staff. He thinks the three women might be the same one.
But Brodie’s assumption that the three women who vanished when valuable pictures did were identical would not have helped except that Beatrice, as she was also called, kept turning up, including to the funeral home where the old lady’s body was kept. And then that picture turned up, in the village church, and was found by the local vicar, Simon Cate, whose life story is also a prominent feature of the novel. He was an aspiring actor but then smitten by faith, and became a priest, but in time he lost his faith. His wife left him after the death of their son, and he is now in this backwater, where he feels he is of no use to anyone. But he has a great feel for living beings, and his most successful service has been one in which he blessed pets. And he was deeply concerned about the bees that Ben looks after for his sister and her wife.
He too staggers into the manor house in the midst of the storm, in which everyone concerned loses their way comprehensively. But amongst those Ben lets in is a man in a tracksuit with cuts and bruises, who then vanishes after he has been led to a bedroom, when Ben went in search of brandy. We soon work out that it is the escaped murderer about whom Reggie has been alerted.
Simon also turns up, through the back door, carrying the picture and also a gun, for he has found the dead body of one of his parishioners when he went to her house in search of his mobile phone. She had been shot and he had picked up the gun he found there. But he could not tell the police, for though he called he had lost his voice, and for the last few days had communicated only through writing.
This chaotic mix of characters at the manor house is further complicated by the group of players putting on the murder mystery play though some members have either cried off or died before reaching the venue. So, there is much doubling up and confusion over who is an actor and who is not.
The grand now largely empty rooms of the manor house, and its various odd passages and multiple doors, make it a splendid set for the lunacy that runs on and on. Reggie finds herself in a pantry Atkinsonwith a dead body, though this turns out to be the nanny who fell down the stairs and was put there by Lady Milton’s younger son. And there is high drama on the roof when the murderer nearly kills Ben, but he is saved by Reggie, and when he tries to kill Brody with an axe, he is shot by Beatrice, who has been the maid who served at the dinner before the murder mystery play, and explains to Brody how she has managed all her thefts.
And then in the melee, she vanishes on a motorbike, along with the daughter of the old lady’s adopted daughter, the only person who seemed to grieve at the funeral, and to whom the old lady had left her house in a codicil to
her will, which her children have not known about. She leaves the picture to the carer, but it is brought to Simon Cate as he lies in hospital, recovering from a heart attack which adds confusion to the play.
Wonderfully convoluted, but all very clear, despite the headlong pace of the book and its shifts from one scene to another, from one character to another (or rather combinations of them) and from one-time span to another. A writer and a detective well worth looking out for. e more books by her on Dinali’s shelves.
Features
Safety, security and teamwork in aviation
by Capt. (Ret.).G.A. Fernando, MBA
There are three essential components to a commercial airline operation: safety, security and teamwork.
Aviation and teamwork at the ‘sharp’ end of a commercial aircraft, i.e. the flight deck, is unique. Unlike many other teams, it may be quite literally the first and the last time a particular combination of small teams of two, three, or four individual airmen (or women) will fly together. Sometimes even in the same airline that employs them.
Therefore, to make conditions safe and practical, while understanding and trusting tech other, they have to rely on a series of Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs), and ‘Normal’ and ‘Emergency’ checklists for every conceivable situation. That is, to be able to do the right things, and do things right. In fact, there is a saying in aviation to the effect that ‘if you make a mistake in aviation, be original and make a new one’.
To ensure that safety standards are constantly maintained, airline pilots’ proficiency is tested every six months, in simulators, under the supervision of examiners from the civil aviation regulator. In Sri Lanka that organisaton is the Civil Aviation Authority-Sri Lanka (CAASL). Three simulator checks are conducted every 12 months in keeping with the tenet that ‘practice makes perfect’. A pithy adage not confined to the world of aviation warns that ‘prior preparation prevents piss-poor performance’.
The simulator exercises include rejected takeoffs, including in cross-wind situations, landings, engine fires and/or engine failures from a variety of causes, cabin pressurisation failure, precision and non-precision approaches, and landings in bad visibility – amongst other conditions that could be expected in actual flight.
In addition, a flight in a real airplane, on a regular passenger service under the supervision of an examiner from the airline, is undertaken to ensure that the company’s standard practices and procedures are carried out and maintained as prescribed in the airline’s manuals. These publications are in turn approved by the national regulator.
Finally, flight crew members must take a written test annually, on emergency equipment locations and procedures, with 90% as the pass mark.
Since the mid-1980s it has been mandatory for airline pilots to undertake a Crew Resource Management (CRM) programme once every two years. This training essentially emphasises what to do and what not to do to, in a specific emergency situation, or even during normal operations, to make the team cohesive and effective. During the course, the CRM facilitators discuss recent incidents and accidents that have occurred. Results of those events are recorded and could be retrieved, when necessary, by the official aviation bodies.
Not unexpectedly, it is demanding on a pilot to fulfill these requirements on a regular basis throughout his/her career, along with presenting for a bi-annual medical examination, all with the objective of retaining one’s licence to operate an aircraft. It may not be understood, therefore, by persons outside the aviation industry, or even some working in other aspects of an airline organisation, that it is often the passion for flight that keeps many pilots doing what they do to earn a living.
Security
Another important factor is the challenge of maintaining security in all aspects of airline operations, not least in the cockpit. The challenges are many, with new ones surfacing almost every day. It is therefore essential to be always prepared for the activities and ‘methods’ of perpetrators seeking to wreak evil on an aircraft and its occupants. As it is impossible for any airline or national security organisation to cover all aspects, systematic management of risks to effect a safe outcome becomes imperative.
Flydubai Incident
In the recent Flydubai incident of 30 September, 2026, a first officer (co-pilot) attacked the captain of the flight with a crash axe to accomplish his sinister motives, into which investigations are continuing. For the time being, it prompts the questions: should the crash axe be easily accessible to the flight crew? Or even be there at all? I believe it is a case of assessing the greater risk.
With regard to that event, and the circumstances that led to it, other deterrents could have been applied more thoroughly. For example, more thorough screening of pilots’ and other crewpersons’ backgrounds, with emphasis on their mental health, ideological affiliations and previous employment history. Separately, during a time of conflict in the Middle East, should Flydubai have even been operating between Dubai and Tel Aviv? Notwithstanding that cost-cutting and profit maximisation are key aims of any business, an airline’s apparent failure to conduct adequate psychological profiling of flight crew members, while continuing to operate ‘profitable’ routes, regardless of potential danger, can only be regarded and condemned as greed and disregard for human lives.
( Captain. Fernando, RCyAF, SLAF, Air Ceylon, Air Lanka, Singapore Airlines (SIA), SriLankan Airlines, Former Chief Pilot, Air Lanka Boeing 737, Former Deputy Chief Pilot, Lockheed L 1011, Former Crew Resource Management (CRM) Facilitator, SIA, Former Deputy Director (Air Operations) CAASL, Former President, Aircraft Owners and Operators Association Sri Lanka (AOAOASL), President, The Colombo Flying Club, Representative for Aviation, Organisation of Professional Associations (OPA), Hony, and Member Sri Lanka Society of Transport and Logistics.)
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