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A woman has to be ‘stronger than a lion’ to cross the sea

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Linda* and her sick mother travelled on a flimsy blue wooden boat in the open sea, before being rescued by German search-and-rescue vessel Humanity 1 (Aljazeera)

Mediterranean Sea – On the open sea, thousands of kilometres from land, on a flimsy blue wooden boat, 21-year-old Linda* from Daraa, Syria, didn’t care if she lived or died.

She and 125 other refugees had left the Libyan coastal city of Sabratha in the dark of night, and her only goal was to get her sick mother to safety – away from the war back home, away from the freezing sea they had been drifting in for nearly two days with no food or water.

Then their boat was intercepted by German search-and-rescue vessel Humanity 1 – and Linda, her mother and the others were saved.

In the first chaotic hours after the rescue, she walked around the open deck, crying. Dressed in a black tracksuit with white stripes, she zigzagged between people queuing for a change of clothing and a long line of frozen survivors waiting to see the ship’s doctor.

The blue boat [Nora Adin Fares/Al Jazeera]Linda travelled with her mother on the open sea, thousands of kilometres from land, before being rescued by the Humanity 1 [Al Jazeera]

Some of them were wrapped in shiny aluminum emergency blankets. When they moved, the sound reminded her of opening candy bags when she was a little girl.

Grabbing one of the crew members, her eyebrows furrowed in an effort to hold back tears, Linda whispered in Arabic: “Can I please charge my phone? I need to send a message.” She held out an iPhone with a cracked screen and traces of salt dried onto it.

She had been out of contact for 22 hours, so her fiancé of three weeks – still stuck in a Libyan smuggling shelter – did not know if she was dead or alive.

When she was told she would have to wait a few hours, her tears spilled over.

Two days later, Linda was sitting cross-legged on a blue mat in the women’s area on the Humanity 1. Above her head, yellow and purple letters read “Welcome on board” in Arabic and French.

The women’s area comprised two large rooms on the main deck, one with 12 bunks and the other a children’s playroom with a mural of fish swimming towards a moon and teddy bears.

This would be the temporary home Linda would share with eight other women and 11 children who were rescued from the boat.

Five toddlers ran around, playing with rubber surgical gloves they had blown up into large, white, waving hands. A seven-year-old girl named Sarah* stopped to run her hand along Linda’s long, dark hair, lying in a thick veil down her back.

“You have to drench it in olive oil; that’s how you get it long and healthy,” Linda advised the little girl as she parted her hair with light fingers and braided it.

That morning, the survivors had been told the ship was heading to Taranto in southern Italy to drop them off safely. Linda cheered at the news, but that feeling had subsided.

Linda showing their bags that never made it across the sea Women, Humanity 1 [Nora Adin Fares/Al Jazeera]Linda shows a photo of her bags that never made it across the sea [Al Jazeera]

Just over a month beforehand, Linda and her mother had sold their home in Syria to begin the journey to Germany to join her older sister, fleeing the war and famine that have torn the country apart since 2011. They are now among five million Syrian refugees, according to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNCHR).

Linda felt heavily the responsibility of getting her mother, who has limited mobility and impaired speech after falling and hitting her head, there safely. They flew to Libya and then spent a month in two different smuggling dens in Sabratha.

After paying some $17,000 – their life savings – for the dangerous crossing, Linda felt duped.

“What did we pay for?” she asked. “It’s gone and we got on a boat that didn’t take us anywhere.”

In the smuggling den, more than 100 women and children, mostly from Syria and Eritrea, were crowded into small rooms, waiting to leave the country.

The grey building and its yard were fenced by a high brick wall. It was impossible to leave, and some of the women had been there for as long as a year and a half.

In the evenings, when they were putting their children to bed on mats on the floor, Linda heard the women’s stories about how smugglers exploited women and girls in the shelter.  They lured them out with offers of special treatment, promising they would leave Libya before everyone else, and dragged them into a haze of drugs and alcohol.  Some were sold; others were raped. It was known that the men guarding the shelters did not have pure intentions. Some would get violent, Linda explained, rubbing the back of her hand against a fading bruise along her upper lip.

Linda's faceLinda was beaten by one of the smuggler [Al Jazeera]

“I got it from one of the smuggler’s men,” she said. “He wanted me, but I rejected him. This is nothing compared to what it looked like the first week.”

The memory sparked something, and Linda’s desolate expression from the first day was replaced with one of fierceness and determination.

“Travelling … as a woman, means I have to be stronger than a lion,” she said, clenching her fists. “I have to be furious, so nobody dares put their hand on us. I can’t stop being angry until I know we’re safe.”

In the smugglers’ den, the men’s and women’s quarters were separated by a big brown gate that was opened occasionally for the groups to mix. They would gather in the common space to smoke shisha and socialise.

Kamal*, a 21-year-old also from Daraa, was on the other side of the gate, and he was smitten.

“The first time he saw me, he immediately went to my mother, asking for my hand,” Linda said, smiling at the memory.

Falling in love with another refugee was not part of Linda’s plan. She had promised to take her mother to Germany then return to Syria; she did not feel that life in Europe was for her.

But she fell for Kamal – he was kind and handsome and made her feel seen amid the helplessness of her situation.

Their love story can only be described as brief. Because of the gate between the quarters, they only saw each other a few times a week. In the meantime, they kept in touch via messages and phone calls, planning their future away from the shelter.

“The gate separated us, but when they would open it, I would run to him. My heart was torn to pieces every time we had to say goodbye,” Linda said.

Then news came late one evening – after a month of waiting, departure for Italy was within hours. Linda and her mother packed the few belongings they still had: clothes, some photographs of their family, and the old house key that Linda wanted to keep as a memory.

Just as they were about to leave the shelter, one of the smuggler’s men – the one who had bruised Linda’s lip – decided not to let Kamal go.

“He pointed at him and said: ‘Not you, not today.’ We were one second from leaving together,” Linda said, her eyebrows furrowing again as she tried to control the tears.

“He was punished because of me; I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” she cried before silently staring at the floor, waiting for the tears to stop.

The children stopped playing and fell silent when they saw Linda crying. Three-year-old Amira*, a girl with golden curls, tried to comfort her by climbing onto her back.

When the girl’s mother entered the room to see what the silence was about, she darted away.

Rania, the 23-year-old mother, smiled at her little girl’s receding back.

“One of her legs is shorter than the other. She’s had surgery twice in Syria, but it hasn’t helped. Hopefully, they’ll be able to fix it in Germany,” she said, tucking a few strands of hair back into her headscarf and sitting beside Linda.

Linda and Rania became friends in the smuggling shelter, where Rania had already been for two months with her three daughters, her 10-year-old sister and her 12-year-old nephew when Linda arrived.  Rania says their time there was a constant cycle of hunger, humiliation, lice and filth.

“We’d get small food deliveries every two or three days. My girls were crying for bread. And we weren’t allowed to leave the shelter’s walls, not a single step outside,” she said, holding up her index finger in warning.

When Rania’s husband was killed four years ago, shot 15 times in crossfire between Syrian regime forces and fighters in Daraa, she found herself alone with two daughters, pregnant with the third, and no job. She had to rely on relatives to send her money from abroad.

Every month, her mother – who relied on government benefits in Germany – sent $100. But eventually, Rania decided to try to join her mother. There was nothing left for them in Syria.

“My mother took out a loan of $4,500 so we could flee … as soon as I land, I’ll start working to pay every dollar back.”

Travelling alone as a woman comes with its rules, Rania explained, noting the first rule is that no matter how nice the men you meet along the way are, they will try to take advantage of you.

Sometimes this has meant that she has had to play dumb, acting like she didn’t understand their advances and was so struck with worry for her children that she could grasp nothing else.

One of Rania's daughters, comforted in the cold. [Nora Adin Fares/Al Jazeera]
One of Rania’s daughters is comforted in the cold [Al Jazeera]

Rania talked over her three daughters running around the room, playing exuberantly. One of them dropped a packet of BP-5 bars, a high-calorie, vitamin-enriched emergency food that they were given on board. The young mother opened the package carefully and gave each girl a bar.

“On that boat, I was thinking over and over again: ‘How did I do this to my daughters? Am I crazy to risk their lives?’ I left because I wanted to keep them safe, but on that wooden boat, I couldn’t stop questioning what I was sending them to,” Rania said.

Linda added: “Those hours before we were rescued, she held her youngest and wailed.”

“All my daughters want to become doctors when we get to Germany,” Rania said, smiling proudly and pulling her youngest closer. Amira* giggled in her mother’s arms and shook her head.

“I dream of making kebabs and selling shawarma,” she announced, stamping her foot to punctuate her sentence.

The next morning, as the ship accelerated towards Taranto, Rania walked around barefoot. Her feet were pale against the deck’s cold surface, the harsh wind cutting through her black tracksuit.

Her shoes were left on the wooden boat when they were rescued, leaving her embarrassed to meet Italian land authorities barefoot.

“We have nothing left. The most important thing is my girls. I want to dress them, feed them, and see them live in peace. I don’t ever want to have to ask anyone for money again,” she said before going to thank the crew for helping her with her children.

Rania and her children leaving the vessel [Nora Adin Fares/Al Jazeera]Rania and her children leaving the vessel [Al Jazeera]

Sitting in rows with the other survivors, wrapped in grey blankets, Linda and her mother huddled close together, watching the small coastal town grow larger on the horizon.

None of the women were at the end of their journey, but Linda said she had regained her strength after the harrowing sea crossing.

The only belongings she had left were a small black purse containing their passports and her phone. She had lost the house key she brought from Syria.

“Everything is gone,” she said. “The days, the memories, every remaining part of our family.”

Linda finally managed to contact Kamal; he was still with the smugglers, and she worried about him.

Gazing out at the grey industrial harbour on the heel of Italy, she said that if he decided to return to Syria, she would be prepared to follow him, adding “I hope he’ll join me wherever I end up.”

* Names have been changed to protect the respondents’ identity.

(Aljazeera)



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Lasting solutions require consensus

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Social Media training

Problems and solutions in plural societies like Sri Lanka’s which have deep rooted ethnic, religious and linguistic cleavages require a consciously inclusive approach. A major challenge for any government in Sri Lanka is to correctly identify the problems faced by different groups with strong identities and find solutions to them. The durability of democratic systems in divided societies depends less on electoral victories than on institutionalised inclusion, consultation, and negotiated compromise. When problems are defined only through the lens of a single political formation, even one that enjoys a large electoral mandate, such as obtained by the NPP government, the policy prescriptions derived from that diagnosis will likely overlook the experiences of communities that may remain outside the ruling party. The result could end up being resistance to those policies, uneven implementation and eventual political backlash.

A recent survey done by the National Peace Council (NPC), in Jaffna, in the North, at a focus group discussion for young people on citizen perception in the electoral process, revealed interesting developments. The results of the NPC micro survey support the findings of the national survey by Verite Research that found that government approval rating stood at 65 percent in early February 2026. A majority of the respondents in Jaffna affirm that they feel safer and more fairly treated than in the past. There is a clear improving trend to be seen in some areas, but not in all. This survey of predominantly young and educated respondents shows 78 percent saying livelihood has improved and an equal percentage feeling safe in daily life. 75 percent express satisfaction with the new government and 64 percent believe the state treats their language and culture fairly. These are not insignificant gains in a region that bore the brunt of three decades of war.

Yet the same survey reveals deep reservations that temper this optimism. Only 25 percent are satisfied with the handling of past issues. An equal percentage see no change in land and military related concerns. Most strikingly, almost 90 percent are worried about land being taken without consent for religious purposes. A significant number are uncertain whether the future will be better. These negative sentiments cannot be brushed aside as marginal. They point to unresolved structural questions relating to land rights, demilitarisation, accountability and the locus of political power. If these issues are not addressed sooner rather than later, the current stability may prove fragile. This suggests the need to build consensus with other parties to ensure long-term stability and legitimacy, and the need for partnership to address national issues.

NPP Absence

National or local level problems solving is unlikely to be successful in the longer term if it only proceeds from the thinking of one group of people even if they are the most enlightened. Problem solving requires the engagement of those from different ethno-religious, caste and political backgrounds to get a diversity of ideas and possible solutions. It does not mean getting corrupted or having to give up the good for the worse. It means testing ideas in the public sphere. Legitimacy flows not merely from winning elections but from the quality of public reasoning that precedes decision-making. The experience of successful post-conflict societies shows that long term peace and development are built through dialogue platforms where civil society organisations, political actors, business communities, and local representatives jointly define problems before negotiating policy responses.

As a civil society organisation, the National Peace Council engages in a variety of public activities that focus on awareness and relationship building across communities. Participants in those activities include community leaders, religious clergy, local level government officials and grassroots political party representatives. However, along with other civil society organisations, NPC has been finding it difficult to get the participation of members of the NPP at those events. The excuse given for the absence of ruling party members is that they are too busy as they are involved in a plenitude of activities. The question is whether the ruling party members have too much on their plate or whether it is due to a reluctance to work with others.

The general belief is that those from the ruling party need to get special permission from the party hierarchy for activities organised by groups not under their control. The reluctance of the ruling party to permit its members to join the activities of other organisations may be the concern that they will get ideas that are different from those held by the party leadership. The concern may be that these different ideas will either corrupt the ruling party members or cause dissent within the ranks of the ruling party. But lasting reform in a plural society requires precisely this exposure. If 90 percent of surveyed youth in Jaffna are worried about land issues, then engaging them, rather than shielding party representatives from uncomfortable conversations, is essential for accurate problem identification.

North Star

The Leader of the Lanka Sama Samaja Party (LSSP), Prof Tissa Vitarana, who passed away last week, gave the example for national level problem solving. As a government minister he took on the challenge the protracted ethnic conflict that led to three decades of war. He set his mind on the solution and engaged with all but never veered from his conviction about what the solution would be. This was the North Star to him, said his son to me at his funeral, the direction to which the Compass (Malimawa) pointed at all times. Prof Vitarana held the view that in a diverse and plural society there was a need to devolve power and share power in a structured way between the majority community and minority communities. His example illustrates that engagement does not require ideological capitulation. It requires clarity of purpose combined with openness to dialogue.

The ethnic and religious peace that prevails today owes much to the efforts of people like Prof Vitarana and other like-minded persons and groups which, for many years, engaged as underdogs with those who were more powerful. The commitment to equality of citizenship, non-racism, non-extremism and non-discrimination, upheld by the present government, comes from this foundation. But the NPC survey suggests that symbolic recognition and improved daily safety are not enough. Respondents prioritise personal safety, truth regarding missing persons, return of land, language use and reduction of military involvement. They are also asking for jobs after graduation, local economic opportunity, protection of property rights, and tangible improvements that allow them to remain in Jaffna rather than migrate.

If solutions are to be lasting they cannot be unilaterally imposed by one party on the others. Lasting solutions cannot be unilateral solutions. They must emerge from a shared diagnosis of the country’s deepest problems and from a willingness to address the negative sentiments that persist beneath the surface of cautious optimism. Only then can progress be secured against reversal and anchored in the consent of the wider polity. Engaging with the opposition can help mitigate the hyper-confrontational and divisive political culture of the past. This means that the ruling party needs to consider not only how to protect its existing members by cloistering them from those who think differently but also expand its vision and membership by convincing others to join them in problem solving at multiple levels. This requires engagement and not avoidance or withdrawal.

 

by Jehan Perera

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Unpacking public responses to educational reforms

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A pro-government demonstration calling for the implementation of the education reforms. (A file photo)

As the debate on educational reforms rages, I find it useful to pay as much attention to the reactions they have excited as we do to the content of the reforms. Such reactions are a reflection of how education is understood in our society, and this understanding – along with the priorities it gives rise to – must necessarily be taken into account in education policy, including and especially reform. My aim in this piece, however, is to couple this public engagement with critical reflection on the historical-structural realities that structure our possibilities in the global market, and briefly discuss the role of academics in this endeavour.

Two broad reactions

The reactions to the proposed reforms can be broadly categorised into ‘pro’ and ‘anti’. I will discuss the latter first. Most of the backlash against the reforms seems to be directed at the issue of a gay dating site, accidentally being linked to the Grade 6 English module. While the importance of rigour cannot be overstated in such a process, the sheer volume of the energies concentrated on this is also indicative of how hopelessly homophobic our society is, especially its educators, including those in trade unions. These dispositions are a crucial part of the reason why educational reforms are needed in the first place. If only there was a fraction of the interest in ‘keeping up with the rest of the world’ in terms of IT, skills, and so on, in this area as well!

Then there is the opposition mounted by teachers’ trade unions and others about the process of the reforms not being very democratic, which I (and many others in higher education, as evidenced by a recent statement, available at https://island.lk/general-educational-reforms-to-what-purpose-a-statement-by-state-university-teachers/ ) fully agree with. But I earnestly hope the conversation is not usurped by those wanting to promote heteronormativity, further entrenching bigotry only education itself can save us from. With this important qualification, I, too, believe the government should open up the reform process to the public, rather than just ‘informing’ them of it.

It is unclear both as to why the process had to be behind closed doors, as well as why the government seems to be in a hurry to push the reforms through. Considering other recent developments, like the continued extension of emergency rule, tabling of the Protection of the State from Terrorism Act (PSTA), and proposing a new Authority for the protection of the Central Highlands (as is famously known, Authorities directly come under the Executive, and, therefore, further strengthen the Presidency; a reasonable question would be as to why the existing apparatus cannot be strengthened for this purpose), this appears especially suspect.

Further, according to the Secretary to the MOE Nalaka Kaluwewa: “The full framework for the [education] reforms was already in place [when the Dissanayake government took office]” (https://www.wsws.org/en/articles/2025/08/12/wxua-a12.html, citing The Morning, July 29). Given the ideological inclinations of the former Wickremesinghe government and the IMF negotiations taking place at the time, the continuation of education reforms, initiated in such a context with very little modification, leaves little doubt as to their intent: to facilitate the churning out of cheap labour for the global market (with very little cushioning from external shocks and reproducing global inequalities), while raising enough revenue in the process to service debt.

This process privileges STEM subjects, which are “considered to contribute to higher levels of ‘employability’ among their graduates … With their emphasis on transferable skills and demonstrable competency levels, STEM subjects provide tools that are well suited for the abstraction of labour required by capitalism, particularly at the global level where comparability across a wide array of labour markets matters more than ever before” (my own previous piece in this column on 29 October 2024). Humanities and Social Sciences (HSS) subjects are deprioritised as a result. However, the wisdom of an education policy that is solely focused on responding to the global market has been questioned in this column and elsewhere, both because the global market has no reason to prioritise our needs as well as because such an orientation comes at the cost of a strategy for improving the conditions within Sri Lanka, in all sectors. This is why we need a more emancipatory vision for education geared towards building a fairer society domestically where the fruits of prosperity are enjoyed by all.

The second broad reaction to the reforms is to earnestly embrace them. The reasons behind this need to be taken seriously, although it echoes the mantra of the global market. According to one parent participating in a protest against the halting of the reform process: “The world is moving forward with new inventions and technology, but here in Sri Lanka, our children are still burdened with outdated methods. Opposition politicians send their children to international schools or abroad, while ours depend on free education. Stopping these reforms is the lowest act I’ve seen as a mother” (https://www.newsfirst.lk/2026/01/17/pro-educational-reforms-protests-spread-across-sri-lanka). While it is worth mentioning that it is not only the opposition, nor in fact only politicians, who send their children to international schools and abroad, the point holds. Updating the curriculum to reflect the changing needs of a society will invariably strengthen the case for free education. However, as mentioned before, if not combined with a vision for harnessing education’s emancipatory potential for the country, such a move would simply translate into one of integrating Sri Lanka to the world market to produce cheap labour for the colonial and neocolonial masters.

According to another parent in a similar protest: “Our children were excited about lighter schoolbags and a better future. Now they are left in despair” (https://www.newsfirst.lk/2026/01/17/pro-educational-reforms-protests-spread-across-sri-lanka). Again, a valid concern, but one that seems to be completely buying into the rhetoric of the government. As many pieces in this column have already shown, even though the structure of assessments will shift from exam-heavy to more interim forms of assessment (which is very welcome), the number of modules/subjects will actually increase, pushing a greater, not lesser, workload on students.

A file photo of a satyagraha against education reforms

What kind of education?

The ‘pro’ reactions outlined above stem from valid concerns, and, therefore, need to be taken seriously. Relatedly, we have to keep in mind that opening the process up to public engagement will not necessarily result in some of the outcomes, those particularly in the HSS academic community, would like to see, such as increasing the HSS component in the syllabus, changing weightages assigned to such subjects, reintroducing them to the basket of mandatory subjects, etc., because of the increasing traction of STEM subjects as a surer way to lock in a good future income.

Academics do have a role to play here, though: 1) actively engage with various groups of people to understand their rationales behind supporting or opposing the reforms; 2) reflect on how such preferences are constituted, and what they in turn contribute towards constituting (including the global and local patterns of accumulation and structures of oppression they perpetuate); 3) bring these reflections back into further conversations, enabling a mutually conditioning exchange; 4) collectively work out a plan for reforming education based on the above, preferably in an arrangement that directly informs policy. A reform process informed by such a dialectical exchange, and a system of education based on the results of these reflections, will have greater substantive value while also responding to the changing times.

Two important prerequisites for this kind of endeavour to succeed are that first, academics participate, irrespective of whether they publicly endorsed this government or not, and second, that the government responds with humility and accountability, without denial and shifting the blame on to individuals. While we cannot help the second, we can start with the first.

Conclusion

For a government that came into power riding the wave of ‘system change’, it is perhaps more important than for any other government that these reforms are done for the right reasons, not to mention following the right methods (of consultation and deliberation). For instance, developing soft skills or incorporating vocational education to the curriculum could be done either in a way that reproduces Sri Lanka’s marginality in the global economic order (which is ‘system preservation’), or lays the groundwork to develop a workforce first and foremost for the country, limited as this approach may be. An inextricable concern is what is denoted by ‘the country’ here: a few affluent groups, a majority ethno-religious category, or everyone living here? How we define ‘the country’ will centrally influence how education policy (among others) will be formulated, just as much as the quality of education influences how we – students, teachers, parents, policymakers, bureaucrats, ‘experts’ – think about such categories. That is precisely why more thought should go to education policymaking than perhaps any other sector.

(Hasini Lecamwasam is attached to the Department of Political Science, University of Peradeniya).

Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.

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Chef’s daughter cooking up a storm…

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Emma being congratulated on her debut Sinhala single // Emma Shanaya: At the launch of ‘Sanasum Mawana

Don Sherman was quite a popular figure in the entertainment scene but now he is better known as the Singing Chef and that’s because he turns out some yummy dishes at his restaurant, in Rajagiriya.

However, now the spotlight is gradually focusing on his daughter Emma Shanaya who has turned out to be a very talented singer.

In fact, we have spotlighted her in The Island a couple of times and she is in the limelight, once gain.

When Emma released her debut music video, titled ‘You Made Me Feel,’ the feedback was very encouraging and at that point in time she said “I only want to keep doing bigger and greater things and ‘You Made Me Feel’ is the very first step to a long journey.”

Emma, who resides in Melbourne, Australia, is in Sri Lanka, at the moment, and has released her very first Sinhala single.

“I’m back in Sri Lanka with a brand new single and this time it’s a Sinhalese song … yes, my debut Sinhala song ‘Sanasum Mawana’ (Bloom like a Flower).

“This song is very special to me as I wrote the lyrics in English and then got it translated and re-written by my mother, and my amazing and very talented producer Thilina Boralessa. Thilina also composed the music, and mix and master of the track.”

Emma went on to say that instead of a love song, or a young romance, she wanted to give the Sri Lankan audience a debut song with some meaning and substance that will portray her, not only as an artiste, but as the person she is.

Says Emma: “‘Sanasum Mawana’ is about life, love and the essence of a woman. This song is for the special woman in your life, whether it be your mother, sister, friend, daughter or partner. I personally dedicate this song to my mother. I wouldn’t be where I am right now if it weren’t for her.”

On Friday, 30th January, ‘Sanasum Mawana’ went live on YouTube and all streaming platforms, and just before it went live, she went on to say, they had a wonderful and intimate launch event at her father’s institute/ restaurant, the ‘Don Sherman Institute’ in Rajagiriya.

It was an evening of celebration, good food and great vibes and the event was also an introduction to Emma Shanaya the person and artiste.

Emma also mentioned that she is Sri Lanka for an extended period – a “work holiday”.

“I would like to expand my creativity in Sri Lanka and see the opportunities the island has in store for me. I look forward to singing, modelling, and acting opportunities, and to work with some wonderful people.

“Thank you to everyone that is by my side, supporting me on this new and exciting journey. I can’t wait to bring you more and continue to bloom like a flower.”

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