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Three generations share their experiences of menstruation

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Burkinabe grandmother Marie, 76, with her daughter, Aminata, 60, and teenage granddaughter, Nassiratou, 18 - known affectionately as Nassi - at home in west-central Burkina Faso [Plan International]

“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]
Maria, 73 (right), with her daughter, Ester, 51 (left), and granddaughter, Alma, 16 (centre) in Paraguay [Plan International]

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]
Aminata (right) says at first she was ashamed to discuss menstrual health with her teenage daughter, Nassiratou (left). Now, she realises menstruation is a natural process and ought to be openly discussed [Plan International]

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.”

Teenager Blanche, 18 (pictured right), with her grandmother, Angel, 80 (centre), and her mother, Pierrette, 42 (left), both of whom Blanche calls ‘Dada’, at home in Benin.
Teenager Blanche, 18 (pictured right), with her grandmother, Angel, 80, (centre), and her mother, Pierrette, 42, (left), both of whom Blanche calls ‘Dada’, at home in Benin [Plan International]

“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]
Angel, 80, pictured with her granddaughter, Blanche, 18, in Benin [Plan International]

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, pictured here picking yard long beans, 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.”
Seila, 13, picks beans near her home in Siem Reap province, Cambodia [Plan International]

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.

plan
‘Some girls couldn’t attend school because of their periods but we got sanitary pads at school, which was a big deal’. Rahamatu, 19, (centre) with her mother, ‘Mama’ Sakina, (left) and her grandmother, ‘Kaka’, 58, (right), at home in Bauchi, Nigeria [Plan International]

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.”

plan
‘We were told we couldn’t eat tomatoes, fish, eggs or lemons’. Paz, 80, (left), with her daughter, Ana, 47, and granddaughter, Hazel, 18, at home in Chalatenango, El Salvador [Plan International]

“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]
Denise, 16, (right), with her grandmother Inna, 72, (centre), whom she calls Dada, and her mum, Esther, 36, whom she calls Mon’do [Plan International]

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]
Faulat, 21. ‘She really cried,’ her mum, Deiya, says when Faulat got her first period [Plan International]

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)



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The significance of “Control” in foreign relations

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US Assistant Secretary of State South and Central Asian Affairs, Paul Kapur, Deputy Defence Minister Aruna Jayaskera, and Navy Commande Vice Admiral Kanchana Banagoda and others aboard SLNS Gajabahu.

Foreign Relations are all about “Control” particularly in the context of Relations between Major Powers such as the USA, China and India and small sovereign States such as Sri Lanka. While in the case of such relations, benefits to both parties are inevitable, the need to do so is invariably driven by the national interests of the Major Powers because their interests far outweigh those of small States. This mismatch of interests is what calls for “Control” of relations by Major Powers

The advice to Sri Lanka by Foreign Relations experts thus far has been to balance challenges arising from such Relations, not realising that the compulsions driven by the interests of Major Powers are such that balancing by itself does not have the needed capabilities to overcome the consequences arising from Major Power Rivalries; a fact evidenced by the recent Middle East war.

For instance, the need for the USA to strengthen the capabilities of the Sri Lankan Navy is driven by the strategic location of Sri Lanka since it is the gateway to the Indo-Pacific. Notwithstanding such motivations, it cannot be denied that the infrastructure provided to Sri Lanka’s Navy was handy to meet internal challenges as it was during the final stages of the Armed Conflict to destroy arsenals of the LTTE out at sea and the capacity to meet both external and internal threats to and within Sri Lanka.

Similarly, one of China’s primary interests is its Belt and Road Initiative. Towards this end, China has established a solid foot print in Sri Lanka by building and owning solid infrastructure projects for 99 years and more, if it is in China’s interest. However, although benefits from such projects cannot be denied, the open question is whether their scale was established to suit China’s interests or sought by Sri Lanka to suit Sri Lanka’s interests. For instance, the offer to build a 200,000 barrels a day Refinery by Sinopec of China has more to do with serving China’s interests, in view of the decision by the Sri Lankan Government to expand the Refinery at Sapugaskanda to 100,000 barrels a day.

In the case of India, the issues are more complex arising from Sri Lanka’s proximity to India, the cultural and historical heritage shared by both and the presence of the Tamil community in both countries. Consequently, India is extremely conscious of the need to keep a sharp eye and “Control” developments taking place in Sri Lanka in respect of Sri Lanka’s relations with Major Powers. This concern is driven by the notion that the territorial security of India is dependent on Sri Lanka’s Relations with Major Powers; a concern that arises from India’s past territorial history where the territory of India was transformed from a motley group of Princely States into one unified sub-continent and then partitioned into two Nation States under the British Raj. Consequently, the present territory of India has been in existence only since its independence from Colonial Rule in 1947. Hence, the fear of history repeating itself is driven by internal compulsions and by external interventions.

US – SRI LANKA RELATIONS

Against the background of Geopolitical interests presented above, Sri Lanka adopted the Policy of Neutrality in 2019 and this Government continues to exercise and live by its Internationally recognised principles, as it did when Sri Lanka denied landing rights to US Aircraft during the Middle East conflict. Sri Lanka’s Foreign Minister stated that Sri Lanka was “always neutral” when he met the US Assistant Secretary of State for South and Central Asian Affairs to convey Sri Lanka’s appreciation for the assistance rendered to procure fuel during the Middle East crisis and for the maritime vessels and aircraft gifted to Sri Lanka (Daily News, June 23, 2026).

In the meantime, The Island has reported that the “US declares SLN its Indo-Pacific Partner” (June 25, 2026). A statement issued by the US Embassy in Colombo quotes the Assistant Secretary of State as having stated: “Today, we announced the delivery of US satellite communication technology to the Sri Lankan Navy, our Indo-Pacific partner: This secure, real-time connection—representing a transformational upgrade for the Sri Lankan Navy-– will be available aboard their entire fleet of offshore patrol vessels…” (Ibid).

There is no doubt whatsoever that these assets would collectively boost the capabilities of the SL Navy to “strengthen maritime domain awareness, improve operational coordination, support emergency response, help interdict vessels engaged in illicit trafficking etc.” (Ibid). However, the unilateral declaration by US that the SL Navy is a “Indo-Pacific Partner” of the US has NO validity unless such a declaration has the approval of the SL Government. Furthermore, such an approval by the SL Government would compromise its Policy of Neutrality to which the country has pledged.

Therefore, the declaration should be accompanied with a caveat, that being, that the partnership should NOT extend to the entirety of the Indo-Pacific but be limited to Sri Lanka’s Exclusive Economic Zone (EEC). It is only then that the SL Government is Internationally entitled to exercise its rights as a Neutral State, namely, to protect its territory under the UN Law of the Sea. Furthermore, considering the extent of Sri Lanka’s EEC in relation to the extent of the Indian Ocean, the Partnership would be proportionate.

CHINA – SRI LANKA RELATIONS

China’s interest is to consolidate its interests in its Belt and Road Initiative. Towards this end it has attempted to exercise “Control” over Sri Lanka by offering infrastructure projects of a scale that benefits China rather than Sri Lanka as evidenced by the example of the offer by Sinopec Refinery cited above. This example demonstrate that Sri Lanka should be faulted for accepting projects offered without question and when questioned, based on local evaluations of scale to meet Sri Lankan needs as in the case of the existing Refinery at Sapugaskanda, the scale of projects become significantly less. The lesson to be learnt from this experience is that no project offered should be accepted without question in respect of its suitability to Sri Lanka in all respects, if Sri Lanka is not to become a victim of self-inflicted debt traps.

INDIA –SRI LANKA RELATIONS

How India “Controls” Sri Lanka is by making Sri Lanka politically and economically vulnerable and dependent on India, not only through physical connectivity, but also by being a handmaiden in internal political arrangements where power is devolved to Provinces that are a threat to Sri Lanka’s territorial integrity (13th Amendment) and also by focusing development that benefit the Tamil community in Sri Lanka. The end result is to keep relations between communities in Sri Lanka on the “boil”, much against the interests of Sri Lanka to function as a united Nation State.

The proposal to connect Sri Lanka with India with under-water pipelines to transfer petroleum products from the Middle East and Power Grids would make Sri Lanka vulnerable and dependent on India as Germany was with Natural Gas from Russia when Nord-Stream I and II were sabotaged. Similarly, the road access through a Land Bridge connecting India and Sri Lanka would legalize access between the two countries that today takes place illegally because of the disparity in wages and livelihoods.

Despite such possible outcomes, there is a concerted effort by individuals and a body of NGOs who are of the opinion that it is in the best interests of Sri Lanka for Sri Lanka to hitch its wagons to the rising star of India. Others are grateful to India as the first responder to Sri Lanka at times of need, mindless of the weekly destruction of Sri Lanka’s marine resources etc. caused by thousands of fishing boats from India resorting to illegal fishing practices whose value over the years are beyond assessment.

CONCLUSIION

The reason for the recent conflict in the Middle East is all about “Control” of Nation States by Major Powers in pursuit of their Geopolitical interests. The need to “Control” Sri Lanka by the US is because of Sri Lanka’s location to the Indo-Pacific and by China because Sri Lanka is a vital link to its Belt and Road Initiative. On the other hand, Relations with India are influenced and guided by India’s obsession with the sustainability of its territorial integrity because that is what makes India a Major Power. The survival of Sri Lanka in such a complex background depends on how astutely Sri Lanka protects its Policy of Neutrality.

By Neville Ladduwahetty

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“Sir”: A prefix or a suffix in Sri Lanka?

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A file picture of King Charles making Sir Stephen Hough a Knight Bachelor at Windsor Castle.

The word “Sir” is classically and linguistically associated with Great Britain and His Majesty’s English Language. As an esteemed prefix, it generally refers to a Knight, but very strictly speaking, that is perhaps a rather narrow and restricted synonym. While a Knight of the British Empire is the most common type of knight people encounter today, Great Britain actually has several different orders of knighthood, as well as an ancient rank that does not belong to any such order at all.

When someone is dubbed a knight in Britain and referred to as “Sir” X, Y or Z, they generally fall into one of three categories. The first is a Knight Bachelor, undoubtedly the oldest rank. This is the most common form of knighthood awarded for public service, arts, or science. In that context, one should think of Sir Elton John, Sir Paul McCartney, or Sir Ian McKellen. It is not a part of an explicit “Order”, like that of the British Empire. It is the oldest mechanical form of knighthood, dating back to the 13th century under King Henry III. The recipients are simply styled as Sir, followed by the first name, such as Sir Ian, without any post-nominal letters like KBE or OBE attached to the end of their name.

The second is a Knight Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (KBE). This is a specific group, established relatively recently in 1917 by King George V, to fill a gap for rewarding civilian and military effort during World War I. To qualify to be called “Sir” within this specific order, a man must be appointed as a Knight Commander (KBE) or a Knight Grand Cross (GBE).

The third is a group of Chivalric Orders, the so-called Elite and Ancient Orders. Several highly exclusive, ancient orders of knighthood sit much higher in precedence than the Order of the British Empire. These include the Most Noble Order of the Garter, the pinnacle of British honours founded in 1348, and scrupulously limited to the Monarch, the Prince of Wales, and only 24 other companion members. Then there is the Most Ancient and Most Noble Order of the Thistle, the highest chivalric honour in Scotland. The last of this group is the Most Honourable Order of the Bath; typically awarded to high-ranking military officers and senior civil servants.

The Summary Rule of this entire scenario is that every Knight of the British Empire (KBE) is a British Knight, but not every British Knight is a Knight of the British Empire. If you see a modern British knight who does not have military or diplomatic ties, odds are high that they are actually a Knight Bachelor.

With reference to the title of this presentation, now for the flip side of this, as we see things in our region of the globe. In Great Britain, it is the standard form of address to refer to a Knight as Sir John, Sir Ian etc. However, in Sri Lanka, as well as in the Indian sub-continent, very often people use the word “Sir” as a suffix or a postfix to honour someone and frequently use “X Sir”; the name followed by the word “Sir” as a suffix or postfix.

It is a fascinating linguistic oddity, and Sri Lanka is definitely not alone in this, and most definitely, we are second to none in that outlook. While using “Sir” as a suffix or postfix (e. g., De Silva Sir, Nihal Sir) completely cartwheels over the standard British etiquette, where “Sir” must strictly prefix a first name. This charming practice of using it as a suffix is actually widespread across South Asia and parts of Southeast Asia. It is a classic example of dialectal crossbreeding, where local grammatical structures and cultural norms go to the extent of rewriting even the rules of the standard English as a language.

In a very broad sense, this phenomenon is very definitely seen in the Indian Subcontinent (E.g. Sri Lanka, India, Bangladesh, Nepal, Bhutan and Pakistan). This is arguably where the “Name + Sir” phenomenon is largest and perhaps even the strongest. Across Sri Lanka, India and Bangladesh, you will constantly hear people refer to superiors, teachers, or public figures as Karu Sir, Vijay Sir, Sachin Sir, Shahrukh Sir, or Ahmad Sir, etc.

Then there is the Indian “Ji” Factor: In Indian languages like Hindi or Punjabi, it is a strict cultural taboo to call an elder or a superior by their bare name. People naturally append the respectful suffix “Ji” (e. g., Gandhi-ji, Sharma-ji). It is then no surprise at all that when switching to English, the Indian mind seamlessly swaps the local suffix Ji for the English honorific Sir, thereby turning Vijay-ji into Vijay Sir.

In Hong Kong, a very specific variation of this exists within the police force and civil service. Influenced by decades of British administration, mixed with Cantonese naming customs, junior officers and the public address superiors by their surname followed by “Sir”, such as “Wong-Sir” or “Chan-Sir“. There is even a universal colloquial generic term, “Ah-Sir“, used commonly to address male police officers or teachers.

In the Philippines, while the syntax is slightly different, the sheer density of “Sir/Madam, Ma’am” usage matches that of Sri Lanka. Filipinos deeply value hierarchical courtesy. While they might say “Sir Jason“, it is incredibly common to use “Sir” almost like a pronoun or a mid-sentence suffix punctuation mark when addressing superiors, bosses, or clients, to ensure that respect is suitably maintained conscientiously.

The mismatch between British English and South/Southeast Asian English comes down to how different native cultures view status and intimacy. In South Asia, especially in Sri Lanka, there is the Linguistic Tradition of the suffix, where an extension in the nation’s own language is inserted into a word to enhance its status. In languages like Sinhala (-thuma / –mahathmaya), in Tamil (-ayyah / –avargal), and in Hindi (-ji), respect is always attached to the end of a name. It simply means that forcefully bringing a sleek word that implies social deference to the front, like Sir John, feels syntactically peculiar or even inappropriate to a native speaker of these local languages.

The “First Name Dilemma” is another type of rather quaint occurrence. In the West, calling your boss simply “John” is seen as a gesture that is egalitarian, free and open. In South Asia, calling an elder or superior by their first name feels somewhat jarringly rude. Conversely, using just “Mr Perera” can also feel too cold, official and even distant. “Perera Sir” or “Silva Sir” strikes the perfect culturally mitigatory concession, as it maintains a warm, personal connection by using the surname while also overtly and safely conveying a layer of professional public respect by adding the word “Sir” as a suffix or a postfix.

Yet for all that, it is worth noting that fundamentally, all languages are symbolic expressions of human thought and human intelligence. Whether expressed as spoken, written or sign language, all dialects are means of human communication. The type of words like “Sir” that we use in the English Language and the real context in which they are used indicate our thoughts in our human intellect. When they are used appropriately, they reflect our commitment to uninhibited respect and even admiration. While the British people and even their Monarch might feel quite a bit confused to hear someone called “Perera Sir”, right across Sri Lanka and its neighbouring nations. Yet for all that, it is simply the most natural and fusion technique to bridge and integrate traditional deference and admiration with modern expressive English.

by Dr B. J. C. Perera
Specialist Consultant Paediatrician and Honorary Senior Fellow,
Postgraduate Institute of Medicine, University of Colombo, Sri Lanka.
An independent freelance correspondent.

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The Murder Room

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Tales of Mystery and Suspense – 8

The Murder Room gets its title from a room of that name in a museum dedicated to Victorian memorabilia, including famous murders, which are featured in that room. But the first murder in the story occurs outside, when one of the trustees, who had been against renewing the lease of the building – which would have meant the museum having to close – is set on fire when he comes to the museum late one evening to pick up the car in which he went away for weekends. This was a regular habit, and the murderer had obviously lain in wait, with a can of petrol, and set him on fire.

James

I took several books with me when I went to England earlier this year, but as usual I read hardly any of them, finding enough and more of interest in the shelves of those I stayed with. My first stop was at New College, where, as on several previous occasions I stayed in what is known as the Bishop’s Room, on the topmost storey of the Warden’s Lodgings. Sadly, I shall not stay there again, for my friend who has been Warden there for a decade now, Miles Young, retires this year.

The bookshelves there have much of interest though on the last couple of occasions I have concentrated on the detective stories, which Miles says are not his, but came with the house. The second I read this time was by the generally workmanlike P. D. James, whose Adam Dalgliesh is in the long line of whimsical but efficient detectives that has Hercule Poirot at its head. Though I had not been impressed by the one novel I read, featuring James’ female detective, Dalgliesh, I liked it, and this novel confirmed my affection.

The Murder Room

gets its title from a room of that name in a museum dedicated to Victorian memorabilia, including famous murders, which are featured in that room. But the first murder in the story occurs outside, when one of the trustees, who had been against renewing the lease of the building – which would have meant the museum having to close – is set on fire when he comes to the museum late one evening to pick up the car in which he went away for weekends. This was a regular habit, and the murderer had obviously lain in wait, with a can of petrol, and set him on fire.

The other two trustees, his brother and his sister, obviously benefited from his death, for they promptly renewed the lease. The employees of the museum also clearly benefited, for they had all found some sort of refuge here. These included the caretaker/cleaner, who lived in a cottage on the premises, a manager who was unpaid but used the place for his research, the receptionist, who also looked after the flat at the museum which was used by the sister, and two volunteers plus a gardener’s boy.

The caretaker, Tally, came across the fire before discovery had been intended, for an evening class everyone knew she went to on Fridays had been cancelled. On her way in she was knocked off her bicycle by a speeding car, the driver of which stopped to make sure she was safe, before speeding off again. She manages then to summon everyone else, including Dalgliesh, who had visited the museum for the first time a few days earlier, brought by a friend who relished its strange attractions.

The museum has to be closed for a few days while investigations are carried out, but in the course of them the friend brings some transatlantic visitors, and when they are in the Murder Room a chest (in which a body had been supposed to have been hidden in Victorian times) is opened, and a body found there. That murder, the autopsy indicated, had taken place around the time of the first murder.

The body was that of a girl who had attended a finishing school part-owned by the Dupayne sister. When Tally, by chance, sees the man who had knocked her down, and identifies him as a Lord who was known for his philanthropy, Dalgliesh realises that there are wheels within wheels here. The Lord confesses that he belonged to a group that met for promiscuous sex in the flat, and that he had planned to meet the girl there but she had not turned up.

Lord Martlesham, when the girl failed to appear, thought he should get away after the fire broke out. It was then that he had bumped into Tally, and his stopping to make sure she was all right indicated that he could not have been the murderer. Dalgliesh then deduced that the murderer had seen the girl at the window of the murder room, from which she must have seen the preparations for the murder. That was why she too had been killed.

Dalgliesh then has a fair idea of who the murderer was, but in waiting for proof, he leaves room for yet another murder to happen. For Tally, who had been mulling over something said on the night of the murder, asking about the petrol that caused the fire, realized that she had not mentioned petrol herself. This happened on her way back to her cottage, and not having a phone herself she goes into the museum to call, and then gets back to her cottage and locks herself in.

But then she hears her cat howling and goes out to find him strung up. She cuts him down, but when she goes back to the cottage the murderer is waiting and knocks her down. That happens in the section called The Third Victim, but this is in fact a boy on a motorbike knocked down by the speeding car of the escaping murderer. So Dalgliesh is able to effect an arrest when he turns up as summoned, and fortunately is in time to resuscitate Tally and send her to hospital.

The reason for the murder and the identity of its perpetrator are then fairly straightforward, though the background to the second murder introduces an element of loose living that contrasts with the Victorian age, or at least the image it projected – undercut though that is by the murders highlighted in the Murder Room with their sexual overtones.

And there is another louche element in the adventures of the gardener’s boy, who lives with a Major who is homosexual, though he declares, truthfully it seems, that he was not attracted at all to the boy but had given him shelter because of his vulnerability. He is generally charming, but capable of rages, in one of which he knocked down the major, though he was forgiven. He had taken shelter with Tally, who was fond of him but decided she preferred to live alone, which was why she had sent him away the day before she was attacked.

The murdered brother was a psychiatrist, and it turns out that the mysterious weekends he spent away from his London home were spent at country inns, where he took long walks to clear his mind of the demons his practice kept bringing into it. His profession also contributed to his death, in addition to his standing in the way of the museum continuing to exist, for one of his patients, connected to the murderer, had set fire to herself.

Solid plotting, with all the loose ends tied up, of incidents and the bizarre cast of characters.

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