Features
Village school reaches internet heaven and its irrigation tank gets new sluice gates
Experiences with dedicated officials worth commenting on
by Lokubanda Tillakaratne
My village Maradankalla is located six kilometres south off Anuradhapura-Trincomalee Road (A12) above Mahakanadarawa wewa, near Mihintale, in the North Central Province. But I have lived in Los Angeles for the past 43 years. During all these years, this village is where my heart has been.
Although the history of Maradankalla spans centuries, it was not on the map of the country until 1947 when its elders built the one-room school hoping the government would hear about it and step into support. Soon after it was built, the small wattle and daub schoolhouse got space for the village on the maps that came out later. In the same year, the Anuradhapura Madya Maha Vidyalaya was started 10 kilometres south of the Sacred City, under the Central College concept of the C.W. W. Kannangara era. It remains the jewel and the axis mundi of the provincial education. But as time passed, villagers realized this well-thought of Kannangara idea helped create an educational tribal system. That’s a story for another day.
The two tales I write about say how this small village in the backwoods of Anuradhapura District got connected to telephone landlines and internet to its school, got two new sluice gates and a new spillway for its irrigation tank which irrigates 60 acres of paddy lands. This is an ode to all those involved in these projects discussed here.
For A/GB/Maradankalla school, the telephone line is the instant highway to communication and the internet heaven which most city folks take for granted. The two new sluice gates will replace leaky sluices built probably in the dinosaur age.
Disparate and Separate,Supposedly Equal
Sadly, though, over the last few decades, some schools, a few kilometres from Maradankalla, lost their map space and disappeared into the hereafter. One such school is A/GB/Ihalagama, above Mahakanadarawa wewa. It is deserted now. Its crumbling buildings occupy an eerie landscape overgrown with brush. Now only the families of elephants come there daily for night classes!
Nevertheless, thanks to the untiring dedication of the teaching staff and resilience of parents, Maradankalla school still survives, like similar schools threatened with lack of modern facilities and difficulties, to keep up with well-equipped schools elsewhere. This school is still a magnet to 180 students from a few villages around it. Like its sister schools in similarly remote areas, it has precious talent and hidden gems. Every year, it sends a couple of students to city schools on 5th grade scholarship examination results. One such student, a resident of Maradankalla itself, just graduated from the Peradeniya Medical School. Another is a Law College graduate. Few more attend universities still as I write this. So, any epithet that the village school students lack potential is a myth and an outright insult.
This shows what failure and shame rural education had been on the part of all of us. In my reckoning, this misfortune was due to lukewarm Interest from the education authorities to highlight and address the systemic decay in education equality in village schools, and failure to provide an environment with new pedagogical ideas and improvements to arrest the degeneration and make these schools attractive and competitive. Retooling them to fight the draw of urban sprawl and slow down students from migrating to the city schools never found a footing here. This put parents at greater disadvantage and pressure, appallingly first with pervasive national disgrace of payoffs to school officials to get the child’s place in the city school, and other related costs.
On the other hand, Madya Maya Vidyalaya, of the same age as Maradankalla school, has over 4000 students, and is crowded to suffocation. As expected, it sends many scores of students every year to universities for higher studies. It is in the class of education royalty with the designation of ‘National School’ which is generally rewarded with, among other perks, a computer room of substantial size with internet facilities. A NASA regional Control Room comes to my mind.
But no one should get lulled into thinking that students in the schools in run-down sections of the cities get the short end of educational opportunities and second-hand treatment, too, and use it as defence to rationalize inequities students in village schools receive. Less than exemplary treatment of schools in poorer sections of the city is an injustice beyond comparison, and unacceptable. But in the village, I might add, patronized by herds of wild elephants on a nightly basis and staffed by stellar teachers, the level of educational assistance the kids there get is so bad, it is an unspeakable travesty and tragedy. One should not tell me otherwise. I know. Because I once lived through it!
Until a few weeks ago, Maradankalla school had no phone landlines, therefore it was locked out of the Internet. But it has two working computers sitting in a converted classroom. Computer facilities elsewhere with every unit connected to the Internet and usually declared opened with pageantry by VIPs of the Machiavellian political nobility, in a room bristling with air-conditioning and so much care, to enter them one must remove shoes to prevent dust and detritus desecrating their holy environment.
Meanwhile, the principal of the village school sends his mandatory reports to the Kalaape (Zonal) office through his handphone, or while Gedara Yana Gaman through a copy. And faxing store in the town.For the principal in the city, it is so quotidian, it only takes him few keystrokes on his desktop computer: Disparate and separate but supposedly equal.
Homework or Looking for Landmines?
According to the Computer Literacy Survey for 2021 by the Department of Census and Statistics, North Central Province scored the lowest computer literacy rate in the country at 24.8% while the highest was reported, no surprise there, in the Western Province at 47.1%. Maradankalla feels the heat of this alarming disparity. It sits in the dead centre of the North Central Province.
When education policymakers send out fiat asking students to do homework using Internet on their handphones, they give little thought to these survey results. For convenience, these experts who devise education policies take them out of the equation. For them, the homework is for all students across the board, without caste or creed, in well-equipped schools and in schools with one or two working computers in a converted classroom.
Without land phone lines, a village school student has no access to the Internet, even if one is lucky enough to have a computer at home. These students use their parents’ flip phones, not the cool Samsung type others carry around with conceit. When the Education Lords ask these students to do homework and ZOOM classes by phone or at home at Maradankalla, it is akin to Marie Antoinette telling her subjects “Let them eat cake.”
During the COVID times, well, those few students who managed to have the out-of-production phones climbed the rocky outcrop by their village temple to do homework. They pointed the phones literally in all directions looking for good reception. The sad irony of this is that anyone who saw them would have mistaken them for looking for landmines using metal detectors! Meanwhile, our own Antoinettes and Antons of the policymaking fellowship carry beauties in the Rs. 200,000 range talking to their children attending foreign universities or working in embassies and consulates overseas. This is not hearsay or imagination. This is the reality.
After the Internet crept in as an educational tool, and not having it in Maradankalla school, for a long time I wanted to do something to mollify the burden dumped on its students and teachers by this ‘fair and modern educational atrocity.’ I spoke to the principal and decided to write to government officials and the private phone companies to see if they could help us to build the road to the Internet here. Sadly, after introducing Internet-based pedagogical practices, the education authorities seem to have not made any coordinated efforts to get village schools like Maradankalla connected to the wired telephone world.
In response to our appeals, the DIALOG phone company showed its heart and worth and stepped in. A couple of years ago, they built a giant tower about 400 metres from the school, hoping reception signals would improve. But the school was still out of luck as for some unknown reason, the signals were not strong enough to have a reliable and viable Internet connection to the school.
A Pensioner’s Crusade
Then, in 2018, I and my brother T. A. M. B. Thilakarathna, a retired special education teacher, took it upon us and wrote to SLT-MOBITEL in Anuradhapura for help to get a landline rolled out to the village. We knew it was a gargantuan task, probably a request that would easily end up in the waste-paper basket. That year when I came home on vacation, I also went to the Telecom office and repeated our request.
We knew the thought of rolling out six kilometres of coir rope was irrational and testing enough, thinking of a fibre-optic phone line even half that length connecting us to satellites many stratospheres above was beyond insane. But my brother, amiable, persistent and with an infectious smile at every turn, began to visit government offices in Anuradhapura looking for a solution to this problem. His milk-white fluffy beard resembling that of a Himalayan Rishi and matching moustache of a Ravana mirrored his determination for success. The unkept white band of hair in the back of his bald head danced like tail feathers of a messenger pigeon in flight.
Sure enough, as weeks and months passed behind him, the message he carried resonated enough, this unassuming retiree’s frequent visits to the telecom offices must have made its administrators’ hearts soften. They listened and decided to do something about his plight. Soon, the machinery of the bureaucracy came to life, loosened their joints and Maradankalla got the ticket to its wish – a phone landline to join the Internet.
(I must note with appreciation that our efforts on this project were boosted by the encouragement, advice and inordinate support we received from Themiya Hurulle, a patron with deep ancestral roots and affinity to the region.)
For a span of three weeks last month, the SLT-MOBITEL technicians and engineers worked on the construction of the phone lines. Showing his own hospitality and dedication, my brother spent a good portion of his monthly retirement deposit to buy food packets daily for about half a dozen workers.
Finally, the parents, their children and teachers got their desideratum granted. The school is now in the Internet brotherhood. I am paying its monthly Internet bills and my wife Niranjala, and daughter Mihiri have teamed up to design some ZOOM activities with the students. These gestures are not as grandiose as a parent buying a bus for a school, a new cricket pitch in the playground, all embarrassing and shameful but commonplace now in most schools in populous areas. But at least on paper, this school seems like it is on a level playing field on the Internet. A round-the-clock air-conditioned room with new computers will complete the curve. That is another educational infrastructure matter the school must work on.
Finally, my brother successfully persuaded 20 households out of 53 in the village to have landphone connections! He even paid half of some villagers’ application fees. That is evidence of how much interest these villagers have given a chance to better their lives.
Last month, when I came home with my family to Maradankalla on vacation, I found myself having to deal with another pressing problem in the village. This time it was another arm of the government bureaucracy.
Every time I come home on vacation, early in the next morning usually, almost as a ritual, we take a stroll on the tank bund in front of our home to listen to the songs of water birds, feel the warmth of the cold air blowing across the tank bed and watch the breathtaking sight of the morning sun radiating off dewy rice paddies spotted with peacocks pacing with glitter and swank.
However, on this day what we saw on the bund dampened our spirits. The two sluice gates, (horowwa) were mournfully open to the dry tank bed where sandbags covered their openings. They were cracked, and chunks of concrete were falling apart. Then at the end of Medieval-like Sluice gate. Note the cracks and sandbag used to open and close it.
The bund, the spillway had fallen apart due to shoddy construction and being part of an elephant crossing. I took 27 photos and decided to go and meet someone at the Provincial Irrigation Office about this potential calamity looming ahead in the coming Maha season.
Medieval-Age Sluice Gates Replaced
It is not an embellishment to say that villagers treat water in their irrigation tank as thicker than blood. How could one not agree?
Paddy cultivation is the only source of living for nearly all of these villagers.
So, I spoke to the village Govi Sanvidhana members, wrote a letter about this issue and with them went to Anuradhapura to meet the Provincial Irrigation Director Jayantha Herath and his area Engineering staff. I had little hope that day of turning the wheels of bureaucracy.
But the magnanimous response of the Director and his office was instant and remarkable. It proved their worth and being. The Provincial Irrigation leadership worked hard to get the sluice gates and spillway repaired. It went further and determined that the Provincial RDA with its expertise, ready machinery and labour would expeditiously finish the project before the Maha rains. They are working on the sluices and the spillway as I write this.
Other Attempts in the Past
In order to draw the attention of the government to the needs of the community, this is not the first time I have written to government officials.
In the early 1990s, President Premadasa decided to have an Udagama to be held in Mihintale. Immediately, word got out that villages in the vicinity of Mihintale were going to be linked to the electrical grid of the country as part of the celebrations. This news electrified the villagers in Maradankalla. Immediately, I wrote a letter to the then President and posted it hoping we might hit the jackpot. ‘What is there to lose,’ I thought at the time.
By writing the letter, I wanted to feel good about doing something, but never expected it would get anywhere. That is how these things usually work in big offices – if the letter didn’t get lost in transmission, there is a better chance it will get lost in translation. But the Good President made sure my letter ended up on the desk of the Electrical Engineering folks in Anuradhapura. Surprisingly, within weeks they came to Maradankalla looking for me. My brother met them, and the Engineer gave an update about the project that was going to follow. I won’t deny it, I was surprised and equally exhilarated to hear of this development.
Consequently, the villagers in and around Maradankalla got their illuminating moment. To optimize dwindling funding resources, we banded together to help out and cut trees along the route to clear space for the power lines. Although Maradankalla is eight kilometres from Udagama, now the home to the bustling Raja Rata University, it now has electricity. Life there with oil lamps and kerosene carts is long gone history. Unfortunately, President Premadasa’s untimely death prevented him from enjoying the Udagama and consequential fruits it brought to the area.
Allegory of the Stories
The allegory of these pleasant stories is if someone writes to the bureaucracy asking for help, not for personal but about an issue in your community, hold on to some hope. A godly person, and a mighty unusual one you didn’t know that existed sitting somewhere behind a desk in an office would read it. I am not naïve here to give a pass to all bureaucrats. But this official you write to is different – utterly decent, courteous and if you go to meet that person, he or she will shake your hand or close the palms together and say “Ayubowan,” offer you a seat and listen to your problem eagerly and earnestly as if it is that person’s own. He or she is sure to treat you like an equal and a friend, and in the middle of the conversation even offer you a cup of tea. That person is honourable and good, lives up to his or her responsibility and is kind enough to take up the issue and do something in their power.
Then villagers may not have to worry about Maha season water, thanks, in this case, to the Provincial Irrigation folks and Provincial RDA and its technicians and Engineer, or the folks who brought the Internet to their village school.
With the new sluice gates and the spillway, thankful Maradankalla villagers will be eager to start the Maha season work and look forward to the Yala season with water saved with air-tight sluice gates. With the Internet, village school students will have more ways to learn about homework assignments. Villagers will have the opportunity to listen to ubiquitous religious talks on YouTube and keep up with the Teledrama parade. These stories perhaps will no doubt become yesterday’s newspaper to many. But in my village, these are tales of life-changing moments, which they will talk about for many years to come. Each time the story is told, they will solemnly reminisce about the experience and thank those who made it happen.
Features
Artificial Intelligence: From Snake Oil to Apocalypse
by Rajan Philips
AI Snake Oil
– is the title of a 2024 book authored by Arvind Narayanan and Sayash Kapoor, two Indo-American computer science academics at Princeton University. The book became a popular primer on the subject. The long subtitle – “What Artificial Intelligence Can DO, What it Can’t, and How to Tell the Difference” – is summarily indicative of what the book is about. Within two years, however, the somewhat tempering message of the book would appear to have been overtaken by fears of an AI apocalypse that have been unleashed following a very public resignation by Jacob Coxon, a 27 year old AI Engineer from Anthropic. Mr. Coxon has worked at both OpenAI and Anthropic, the two main US incubators of Artificial Intelligence. On Tuesday, September 8, Coxon resigned from Anthropic, accusing the leading AI firms of “racing straight to self-improving superintelligence and gambling with our lives.”
Coxon’s warnings were soon endorsed by his peers. Evan Hubinger, Alignment Science Lead at Anthropic, not only agreed with Coxon but went further and warned of a greater than 10 percent chance that “advanced AI” could cause human extinction within the next decade. Mr. Hubinger made sure to emphasize that the current AI models do not present any existential threat and that the risk with them is relatively low. Other Engineers and Coxon himself have since been amplifying over the social media the threat posed by allowing AI expansion to continue unbridled even in the near future. Corporate leaders followed suit with calls for government control.
AI’s Weekend Escapade
Anthropic CEO Dario Amodei published a 3,000 word essay on Saturday, September 12 – written with or without AI input, no one knows – in which he warned about AI’s capacity for “recursive self-improvement” that can spin out of human control. While there have been a number of ‘incidents’ involving different AI models, Amodei drew attention to the mid-July cybersecurity incident in which OpenAI agents or bots (computer programs doing automated, repetitive tasks), who were part of an internal test run by the company, took advantage of the safety fences that had been lowered for test purposes, and acting autonomously escaped from their home ‘sandbox’ (a virtual computer in the cloud), entered the open internet, and intruded the production systems of an AI infrastructure company, the Franco-American Hugging Face.
The rogue agents performed more than 17,000 recorded operations over a weekend, before someone at Hugging Face noticed the intrusion. Hugging Face did not know the source of the AI intruders at first; so, it informed law enforcement. No one at OpenAI knew until Hugging Face people traced the source and informed OpenAI. According to OpenAI, sabotage was not the motive behind the ‘misaligning’ (deviating from human intent) escapade of its artificial agents, but cheating – cheating to overperform in the test after they autonomously discovered that the answers to their test were available in another publicly available test that was in the system run by Hugging Face. Remarkably and unexpectedly, the AI agents found a way to communicate with each other, took steps to hide their tracks, and to selectively disable some among them to avoid detection.
The operation was plain and simple hacking. If OpenAI engineers had done it, it would have been a crime and they may have been prosecuted. Not so with AI agents, who cannot be charged and put on trial. A way out has been suggested to treat AI agents similar to wild animals and holding owners liable for any harm done by their charges.
In his essay, CEO Amodei outlines a three step approach for “pacing the frontier” – to build AI at a balanced rate that will ensure safety while amassing benefits. The three steps, which Anthropic is committed to abide by, are: Embedded Evaluators – third party evaluators to operate within companies: Democratic Co-ordination – frontier AI companies in democratic countries to co-ordinate and achieve common safety standards and restrain unchecked AI progress; and Global Co-ordination – all world governments to co-ordinate and achieve compliance to the extent possible.
The titans in the American AI world, including Open AI CEO Sam Altman, have joined the call for the government to step in and slow down their creations. After the OpenAI incident, more than 1,300 computer scientists working in a highly competitive environment came together to issue a joint statement, titled “Pacing the Frontier,” calling on Washington to facilitate an international effort to develop the necessary technical and governance rules for the industry. The New York Times correspondents David Sanger and Dustin Volz have called the scientists’ appeal ” a deliberate echo of Albert Einstein’s letter to Franklin D. Roosevelt about the potential power of nuclear weapons.”
Not everyone is crying for ‘pacing.’ There is healthy skepticism at both the corporate and scientific fronts in the industry. Small tech companies are accusing that the pacing call by tech titans is really a ruse for establishing a ‘Silicon Valley cartel control” that will smother their little cousins. They draw their cue from the rather costly slip that Mr. Amodei showed in his essay – calling on Washington to grant an anti-trust waiver to facilitate industry co-ordination. The anti-trust law does not prevent AI companies from working together to improve safety. This has been quickly pointed out by Alvaro Bedoya, a former US Federal Trade Commissioner.
According to Aidan Gomez who runs the Cohere AI company in Toronto, Amodei’s three-step proposal also may not have prevented the OpenAI incident. In Gomez’s view the incident may have been due to poor instructions, weak virtual security around the test, and long periods of unsupervised testing. All three factors were there in the OpenAI incident. It has since transpired that there was an error in the OpenAI test instructions due to a typo, and that is what drove the agents to their escapade, to complete a faulty test set by humans.
Malicious Humans
There is consensus in the middle, as seen by John Hopkins Professor Gillian Hadfield, that there is a case for an immediate technical co-ordination and a more long-term regulatory response. The political world is even more divided. King Charles and Pope Leo are sufficiently exercised but the US president, who loves AI images fabricating him as Christ, calls the whole existential threat a hoax. On the other hand, former President Obama wants his Party to formulate a clear position for itself, on AI and its Data Centre dormitories, before the next wave of elections. China dismisses the new fears as a page out of the old cold war playbook. Elsewhere, at the BRICS summit in Delhi which went largely underreported in the west, nothing much was said on AI except one summitry paragraph #81.
In their AI Snake Oil book, the two computer scientists, Narayanan and Kapoor (N&K) devote a whole chapter (#5) to the question: Is Advanced AI an Existential Threat?” The question is not a new one, and as N&K reminds us, “has been a staple of fiction since long before the first computers were built.” In fact, watching the 2023 movie “Mission Impossible: Dead Reckoning” is said to have “spurred” President Joe Biden to issue the first EO (Executive Order) to regulate AI on 23 October 2023. Trump ceremonially rescinded it within hours of his inauguration on 20 January 2025, after packing his inaugural address invitees with all the CEOs of America’s AI universe.
N&K trace the existential fears about AI to the hype about AI’s snake oil abilities – the sales pitch that leads to “overreliance” on AI “as a replacement of human expertise instead as a way to augment it.” Particularly overrated are the predictive abilities of AI, which are different from its more useful generative abilities. There are likely egotistical biases in those given to apocalyptic predictions. A great part of the attraction to AI research at the highest level is “the prospect of building a powerful technology that could alter human history.” A corollary of this allure is the “grandeur” associated with AI work. At the same time, many AI researchers “vehemently reject doomsday predictions,” including those in the “AI ethics research community.”
While AI has made humans more powerful now than anytime in history, it is conceivable that human-AI combination will be more powerful than AI acting alone. N&K hit the nail on the head in warning that “we should be more concerned about what people will do with AI than with what AI will do on its own.” For “the biggest risks to humanity will arise from people misusing AI, not from AI going rogue.” The answer is in looking for specific threats that may arise from bad actors misusing AI. There is a range of them, including inflicting biological harm, flying AI powered drones, or carryout relentless cyberattacks.
Evidence of such misuses is presented in a report that Anthropic released on September 10, two days before its CEO’s essay. The report, titled “Detecting and countering misuse of AI: September 2026”, details the identification and disruption of what it calls “the most notable and novel threat activity” in the use of its Claude AI system by state and non-state actors in some African countries, for the purpose of cyber operations, influence operations, disinformation, surveillance, dissent suppression, and bio terror.
The United Arab Emirates is implicated in one such operation in Sudan, where the UAE is known to be the main benefactor of the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), the paramilitary group that controls the western parts of Sudan. According to Anthropic, a local network with UAE connections has used the Claude AI system to create a fake human rights organization and made AI generated presentations to the UNHRC in Geneva. The network has also prepared dossiers and personal files on journalists, European parliamentarians, and UNHRC rapporteurs, who have been critical of RSF’s operations and the UAE’s support for them.
AI Cold War
In its introduction to the report, Anthropic notes that “as models become increasingly capable, their risks will increase, unless AI developers and society’s defenders act to make them safer.” Remarkably, the focus on AI developers and society’s defenders is all US-centric and almost totally exclusive of China. President Trump’s decision to leave AI alone, which is obviously driven by his deregulatory profit instincts, not to mention crass self interest, is wholly predicated on portraying China as an AI competitor and the assertion that America cannot afford to become second to China in the AI race. It takes two tango, and China is not backing away and is calling the American hype over AI as a new manifestation of the old cold war.
The geopolitical competition over AI is creating “two increasingly incompatible tech stacks,” according to a June 2026 assessment by the Boston Consulting Group. While the US is the leader in frontier AI models, talent, and capital deployment, China is advancing on cost-optimized models and accelerating adoption across its economy. Those in the middle are trying to navigate the divide: “the EU is building sovereign compute; Japan is aligning with the US through massive capital investments; and India is using its scale to engage multiple ecosystems simultaneously without committing.” For AI companies, “the choice of AI stack will increasingly determine where an organization can operate and its exposure to geopolitical volatility.”
The opportunity for global co-ordination is being missed almost deliberately by the two AI superpowers. As UN Secretary General Antonio Guteress said this week, “National action is essential, but global co-ordination is indispensable.” But UN’s voice for global co-ordination is a voice in the wilderness. This is unfortunate in spite of the comparable and complementary regulatory frameworks that exist in the US, EU and China. N&K describe them in their book as being vertical in the US – where multiple federal agencies are tasked with enforcing regulations; horizontal in Europe – with different laws applying across the different AI sectors; and both vertical and horizontal in China.
A different voice in the wilderness came from the Vatican. On 25 May 2026, Pope Leo XIV issued his first encyclical, entitled ‘Magnifica Humanitas: On Safeguarding the Human Person in the Time of Artificial Intelligence.’ The encyclical calls for the disarming of AI, not by “rejecting technology, but preventing it from dominating humanity,” and by adopting a framework of safeguards based on the five principles of common good, universal access, subsidiarity, solidarity and social justice.
The release of the new encyclical marked the 135th anniversary of Rerum Novarum, the historic social encyclical of his namesake predecessor Pope Leo XIII issued in 1891. The historical contrasts are remarkable. Rerum Novarum (Of New Things) was the Catholic response to the miserable conditions of the 19th century industrial working class while opposing both laissez faire capitalism that was causing the misery of the workers, and socialism that was promising emancipation through revolution. In the age of Artificial Intelligence, the old working class organizations have all but disappeared and the status of work itself has come into question, along with the possibility a basic income for everyone.
Marx may have seen it coming: “Once adopted into the production process of capital, the means of labour passes through different metamorphoses, whose culmination is the automatic system of machinery… set in motion by an automaton, a moving power that moves itself; this automaton consisting of numerous mechanical and intellectual organs, so that the workers themselves are cast merely as its conscious linkages.”
Features
Why the spelling Sri Lankan names in English vary
Have you wondered why the same name (eg. Jayatillake) is often spelt differently?
(This is largely AI generated with some human intervention)
Sri Lankan people write their names in English in multiple different ways primarily because there is no single standardized system for converting Sinhala and Tamil sounds into the English alphabet. Variations stem from linguistic phonetics, centuries of colonial rule, and legal document traditions.
1. Phonetic Gaps Between Local Languages and English
Sinhala and Tamil scripts are strictly phonetic and possess sounds that do not have direct one-to-one equivalents in the 26-letter English alphabet.
Dental vs. Retroflex Consonants: Sinhala has distinct letters for dental ‘t/d’ sounds (made with the tongue against the teeth) and retroflex ‘t/d’ sounds (tongue curled back). When transliterated, some people use th for the dental sound (Rathnayake, Goonathilake), while others use t (Ratnayake, Gunatilake).
The Vowel Mapping Dilemma: The short schwa vowel sound (common in words like Vardhana or Krama) gets interpreted differently by different writers. This creates variations like Jayawardena vs. Jayewardene, or Wickramasinghe vs. Wickremesinghe.
2. Colonial British Spelling Conventions
During British rule in Ceylon (1796 1948), colonial administrators registered birth records and names in English. English speakers often struggle to pronounce a short ‘a’ at the end of a word (e.g., pronouncing Nayaka as “Nayak-ay”).
To force an English speaker to pronounce the ending vowel, British clerks frequently wrote an “e” at the end of Sanskrit- and Sinhala-derived roots:
-nayaka became -nayake (Rathnayake)
-singha became -singhe (Wickramasinghe)
-vardhana became -wardene (Jayewardene)
-ratna became -ratne (Karunaratne)
Family branches that adopted modern Sanskritized or academic transliterations later changed these back to -na, -ha, or -ka, while others kept the British-era spelling.
3. Portuguese and Dutch Colonial Influences
A large portion of Sri Lankans carry surnames of Portuguese origin due to 150+ years of Portuguese rule along the coasts. Over centuries, these names evolved into distinct English spellings:
Pereira vs. Perera
Pieris vs. Peiris vs. Peries vs, Peeris vs. Pireis (and more)
De Silva vs. de Silva vs. de Sylva vs. de Zilwa etc.
Fernandopulle vs. Fernando
Different families registered their inherited foreign names using whichever English spelling was used by the official clerk on duty at the time of birth registration.
4. Tamil Phonetics and Soft/Hard Consonants
In Sri Lankan Tamil name transliteration, a single Tamil consonant character can represent both a soft and a hard sound depending on its position in the word. English transliterators choose different letters to represent these sounds:
T vs. TH: Thiruchelvam vs. Tiruchelvam
K vs. G: Murugesan vs. Murukesan
P vs. B: Santhapillai vs. Santhabillai
5. Legal Document Inertia
In Sri Lanka, legal identity is tied strictly to the spelling on a person’s official Birth Certificate and National Identity Card (NIC). If a registrar in 1950 in handwriting spelled a grandfather’s surname as Gunasekara instead of Gunasekera, that exact spelling remains legally binding for subsequent generations, preserving minor spelling variations across extended families.
6. Caste spellings
The English spellings of Sri Lankan names sometimes have caste indicators. Eg. Goonewardene (karawa) vs. Gunawardene (govigama).
Some families have distinctive name spelling. Eg. Wikramanayake vs. more common Wickremanayake.
English language journalists once upon a time were told to “spell a man’s name the way he spells it.
Features
The Sepala Ekanayake hi-jack: Then ambassador’s take on what happened in Bangkok
(Excerpted from “Madame-Sir”, Manel Abeysekera’s memoir of SL’s first woman career diplomat. This book was first published in 2010)
It was when we were in the Residence at Soi 20 that I had to handle the second hi-jack — that of the Alitalia ‘plane by Sepala Ekanayake. It was a year after that by the Indonesian Muslim Fundamentalists and the aborted Coup in Bangkok.
I simply could not believe my ears when I was called by the Thai Foreign Ministry and informed that a Sri Lankan by the name of Sepala Ekanayake had hi-jacked an Alitalia Boeing with 169 passengers on board and wanted the ‘plane fuelled and flown to Colombo; my first reaction was that it must be an Eelamist under an assumed Sinhala name and I had our copy of our Immigration “black” list of those who should not be allowed to land in Sri Lanka checked for the name but, though there was an Ekanayake listed, his first name was not Sepala.
I next telexed the Foreign Ministry about the hi-jack and requested all information on Ekanayake to enable me have some idea of my protagonist. Our Police was simply marvelous and sent the information promptly: which was that [1] his father had re-married and his step mother had treated him badly resulting in his becoming unmanageable in school which in turn had made him a school drop out [2] he had later learnt electrical wiring and other technical skills [3] he had illegally slipped into Italy where he married an Italian Montessori teacher and they and their son lived in Modena [4] though he was not wanted for any offence in Sri Lanka or in Italy he had been involved in a brawl in Sri Lanka in which he had broken a man’s arm though there was no evidence on which to indict him [5] he had been given short jail sentences in Pakistan and Yugoslavia for drug peddling of small quantities of heroin-hence the short sentences.
Hector (my husband) and I accompanied by (embassy staffer) Premaratne went to the Airport and were directed to the Alitalia Office where there was also the Italian Ambassador Signor Ripandelli. Both he and I offered to board the ‘plane but were refused permission by the Alitalia authorities probably because the hi-jacker had threatened to blow up the plane if anything was done without his permission or his requests refused, by triggering off the explosives he said he had round his neck and shoulders which he had covered with a shawl.
We were briefed that he had boarded the ‘plane in New Delhi and hi-jacked it when it was approaching Bangkok. Unlike most hi-jackers, he had not toted a gun but said he would not hesitate to activate the explosives round his neck and shoulders. He had explained that he had boarded the ‘plane without them and that they had been brought on board by his collaborators and left in the toilet for him to collect and string together. After doing so he had astutely occupied the Air Hostess’ seat against the body of the aircraft so that no one could surprise him from behind and declared that he was hi-jacking it; the manouevre was carried out so smoothly that the passengers thought that the reason for the unscheduled stop was a technical problem.
He had said that the reason for the hi-jack was because his wife had taken their four-year old son from Sri Lanka without his permission with the connivance of the Italian Embassy in Colombo; his demands were: [1] the child to be brought to Bangkok and handed over to him [2] $300,000 to pay his collaborators and [3] all passengers to be allowed to disembark without being searched to prevent his collaborators even accidentally being detained. The reason for the hi-jack was most unusual but we had no option but to accept it.
I was asked by the Thai Authorities to negotiate with him and I asked Premaratne to listen very carefully – as I was going to speak to him in Sinhala – to detect in his choice of language or accent any trace of his being a Tamil which might give him away as a possible Eelamist. I spoke to Ekanayake through the radio link provided between the Alitalia Office and the Captain for the purpose and, having introduced myself by name and as the Sri Lankan Ambassador to Thailand, I asked him whether he wished me to speak in English or Sinhala and he opted for the latter. After listening to his tale of woe, I informed him that he had committed an international crime and that it was hardly likely that his requests would be granted, little guessing at that time that they would!
Though everyone hoped that he would be overpowered at some stage, whenever he was tired or sleepy, it was not to be because, whenever anyone approached, he would become alert. Thus the hours passed and one of my problems was in communicating with our Foreign Secretary because Air Lanka did not have a direct telephone link to Colombo which I could have used and the Alitalia Office was much too pre-occupied and was connected to Rome.
However, the spirit of solidarity among women came to my rescue as some officials in charge of Airline and other offices at the Airport were women – Royal Nepalese Airlines and World Travel Service – and those ladies invited me to their offices and offered the use of their telephones for which I was extremely grateful. Ironically, the difference regarding action by the Italian Ambassador and myself in this tense situation was that, Rome asked him to take instructions from the Alitalia Captain, whereas I was left to my own devices!
As I have a deep belief in God and realized that I had only Him and my good sense to rely on, I prayed that God give me His help to save the lives of the 169 passengers. As if in answer, I often felt that He was putting words in my mouth as I found myself speaking to Ekanayake in different tones and equally amazingly that he was being cooperative with me in whatever I asked him to do. For example, I found myself speaking sternly to him at times and persuasively at others, especially once his wife and son were sent to Bangkok by the Italian Government.
Once she and the child joined me in the Alitalia Office, I even tried to counsel her regarding her marriage, pointing out that several foreign wives were living happily with their Sri Lankan husbands and that there was no reason why she too should not. I told her that, in my opinion, though her husband had committed an international crime, he did not seem criminal minded in that he had allowed meals to be taken on board and had not terrorized the passengers or the crew except threatening to blow himself and the ‘plane should his request for his son to be brought to him in Bangkok be refused.
She, while admitting that her husband was not really criminal minded, said that she could not cope with his sudden impulses such as wanting to go to Australia with their son without any plans as to how he would earn a living there. When she was with me I spoke sternly with him that I had no intention of sending her and their son to him in the ‘plane as she was petrified; before the ‘plane in which they had flown to Bangkok landed, he had wanted to hear his son’s voice to make sure that it was indeed he, and this had been facilitated from ‘plane to ‘plane and so he knew that both of them had come.
One advantage I had was that I understood Italian as it was the language assigned to me in the Foreign Service and which I had studied for one academic year at New Hall. Cambridge. No one knew it nor did I tell anyone at the Airport but I had the good fortune to be able to understand what was being said by the Alitalia officers and the Captain, which enabled me to follow developments – even the Italian Ambassador had forgotten that I had exchanged pleasantries with him in his language when I had called on him when I took up duties in Bangkok.
I asked Ekanayake to allow the passengers to disembark and, after what seemed an eternity, they were allowed to do so, without any security check as was one of his demands; thereafter, I asked that he allow the stewardesses and stewards to disembark and that too was done. Then only the Captain and Ekanayake remained on board and he asked that his wife come on board with the $300,000. I said that she would go up the gangway with the satchel of money but not board the ‘plane. However, before she did that, I asked him to divest himself of what he had round his shoulders and place it between him and the Captain as otherwise she would not do so.
At first he did not reply, but to my great relief, he complied as was conveyed by the Captain to the Alitalia Office. Thereafter, Ekanayake met his wife halfway on the gangway and took over the satchel of money and went back to the ‘plane.
How the money was obtained was most interesting. As I have already indicated, the Alitalia Office was invariably crowded. This was because there were passengers of several nationalities and representatives of their diplomatic missions were there to took after their interests. Unlike in the Indonesian Garuda hi-jack, these passengers spoke different languages and they did not collectively understand a common tongue.
When I learnt that Ekanayake wanted $300,000 I mentioned it to the Japanese representative, pointing out that as it was evening it may not be possible to get such a large sum of money quickly, which in turn might annoy Ekanayake and result in dire consequences. He got the message and shot out of the room; not much later a Thai woman bank official appeared with the satchel. I suspect that the Japanese had loaned the Thais the money who paid it to Ekanayake and later recovered it from Alitalia.
As I was marooned in the Alitalia Office for nearly 38 hours without a shower or a change of clothes, I used to visit the nearby ladies room to have a wash. On these occasions as I went along I saw several media personnel sleeping on the floor, longing to have news of developments on the hi-jack. When they saw me they would sit up and ask me for news and I tried to oblige as best I could without revealing details of the negations; I used to also tease them by saying that one thing was sure and when they excitedly asked what that would be, I said that it was that they would not get any sleep that night, which made them laugh and relax!
In contrast, the Italian Ambassador, who also passed them on his way to the men’s room, would ignore their questions or be abrupt with them; this resulted in the “Nation” newspaper reporting in an article on the hi-jack that they give the Sri Lankan Ambassador a big bouquet and the Italian Ambassador a brickbat! As I have said, my prayer helped me no end – to think clearly and act with foresight, so that, for instance, I had had the presence of mind to ask Premaratne to bring along the visa stamp and ink pad in case we had to give Ekanayake’s wife a visa to go to Sri Lanka, which we did.
The root cause of Ekanayake’s errant behaviour as I have stated from our Police reports was his early childhood aggravated by his having to steer his own canoe as a youth and rely on his brains of which, in my opinion, he had plenty but which, alas, had not been guided. For instance, his intelligence can be seen from the fact that he had prudently obtained a visa for India in case his collaborators failed to bring on board the electrical gadgetry he required for the hi-jack.
Other aspects in which the Police reports helped me was that, since they said that he had learnt electrical wiring, his claim that he had explosives round his shoulders which he could detonate may well be true and that one could not take any risks over that. Further, the fact that the Police report said that though he was not wanted in Italy or Sri Lanka, made me realize that, if the hi-jack issue ended in negotiations, he may ask to go to Italy or Sri Lanka. I also knew that his going to Italy was unlikely as the Italian Authorities would not allow it; under our Constitution however, if a citizen was not wanted for a crime – and he was not – he could return home provided he was not carrying arms against the State.
So, when the Thai Minister of Communications, H.E.Admiral Amorn Sirigaya, was earlier inquiring from me what was likely to be the denouement of the whole episode, I told him that if he allowed everyone to disembark, then he would have to go somewhere from Bangkok unless he was shot or arrested by the Thai Authorities when he stepped off the ‘plane; knowing the Thai dislike of blood being spilt on Thai soil – from my experience of the previous Garuda hi-jack – I felt that they would let him go.
Yet, when the Minister asked me whether he would be allowed to go to Sri Lanka, I did not answer him but said that I could make the enquiry provided Thailand would give him safe passage; later the Minister told me that he had consulted his Prime Minister and the answer was in the affirmative. ‘So I informed our Foreign Secretary Mr. W. T. Jayasinghe accordingly and also about my understanding of our Constitutional provision to which I have already referred.
(Next week: The drama continues)
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