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Ditwah: A Country Tested, A People United

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Floods caused by Cyclone Ditwah

When Cyclone Ditwah roared across the island on November 27 and 28, 2025, it left behind a landscape scarcely recognisable to its own inhabitants—homes reduced to rubbles, vital infrastructure torn apart and entire communities engulfed by floodwaters that surged with terrifying speed. The storm’s ferocity carved deep scars into the island’s social and economic fabric, displacing thousands and severing lifelines that families had relied upon for generations. In its aftermath, the air hung heavy not only with the scent of mud and debris, but also with a palpable collective grief—a profound sense of loss etched on every face. As of December 9, the day of writing, the death toll had reached 635, with an additional 192 individuals reported missing. In Kandy alone, one of the most severely affected districts, 234 lives were lost. Island-wide, 12,123 families—amounting to 1,776,103 people—were displaced.

As a small island situated in the monsoon-fed waters of the Indian Ocean, Sri Lanka has long lived in intimate coexistence with hydro-meteorological hazards. For centuries, the monsoon winds that swept across the island brought not only life-giving rains to nourish paddy fields, forests, and communities, but also shaped the rhythms of daily life, agriculture, culture and even the island’s civilisation itself. Yet this same monsoon—when delayed, intensified, or disrupted—has had the power to unsettle entire ways of life and inflict widespread human suffering. Over generations, communities learned to read the sky and the sea, developing localised knowledge systems and adaptive skills to cope with the uncertainties of winds and waves. This reservoir of traditional wisdom fostered a form of social resilience deeply embedded in the island’s cultural fabric. At present, however, this traditional resilience is increasingly tested by the new realities of climate change and the growing frequency of severe cyclones.

When Cyclone Ditwah struck on November 27, 2025, it unleashed a force so violent that it reshaped many districts within hours, leaving behind a trail of destruction that stretched as far as the eye could see. Whole neighborhoods were crushed under winds that tore roofs from their foundations, while surging floodwaters swept through villages, carrying away homes, livelihoods, and the fragile sense of security people had built over generations. Roads lay fractured, communication lines collapsed, and families found themselves cut off in pockets of isolation marked by debris and despair. In the storm’s wake, the silence was haunting—broken only by the cries of survivors searching for loved ones and the distant hum of rescue teams navigating the ruins. The scale of the devastation was overwhelming, a human and infrastructural tragedy so profound that it demanded not just an emergency response, but a coordinated, compassionate, and deeply human-centered approach to crisis management.

The most devastating natural disaster Sri Lanka has experienced in recent history remains the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami, which claimed over 35,000 lives and displaced nearly a million people. Sweeping across two-thirds of the nation’s coastline—more than 1,000 kilometers—it affected approximately 234,000 families and destroyed over a million houses. More than two-thirds of the country’s fishing fleet was obliterated. Beyond the immense human suffering, the tsunami exposed profound gaps in preparedness and underscored the urgent need for a systematic, coordinated approach to disaster risk management.

Over the last decade, Sri Lanka has increasingly confronted hydro-meteorological hazards driven by the accelerating impacts of climate change. Cyclones such as Roanu (2016), Mora (2017), Burevi and Amphan (2020), and Yaas (2021) highlight the growing frequency and severity of extreme weather events. According to the Sri Lanka – Disaster Management Reference Handbook, Cyclone Roanu brought the highest recorded rainfall in more than 18 years, triggering floods in 24 of the country’s 25 districts. Covering 1,400 square kilometers, the flooding affected nearly half a million people and inflicted damages estimated at US$600 million. Just a year later, Cyclone Mora caused severe flooding across 15 southern districts and unleashed landslides that further compounded human and infrastructural losses.

These climate-induced pressures have been accompanied by increasingly destructive monsoon-related disasters. In May 2016, the Aranayake landslide wiped an entire village off the map, killing 144 people, leaving 96 missing, and rendering hundreds homeless as their dwellings were buried under rubble. The following year, unprecedented monsoon rains caused flash floods and landslides that killed more than 210 people and displaced 630,000 across 15 districts. Subsequent monsoon seasons delivered similar devastation: in 2018, floods and landslides resulted in 24 deaths and affected 170,000 people; in 2019, heavy rains left 16 dead and displaced more than 7,000. Even in 2020, despite the successful evacuation of more than 75,000 residents ahead of Cyclone Burevi—an example of improved preparedness—post-cyclone flooding still affected over 100,000 people and destroyed or damaged nearly 4,000 homes.

Compounding this pattern of extreme rainfall and flooding is the paradoxical increase in drought conditions, another manifestation of climate variability. The worst drought in four decades struck between October 2016 and October 2017, affecting 2.2 million people across the North Western, North Central, Northern, and Eastern Provinces. From March to May 2020, another severe drought impacted more than 500,000 individuals in 14 districts, forcing the government to implement emergency drinking water distribution across six provinces. These cycles of excess and scarcity are further aggravated by the seasonal rise in vector and rodent-borne diseases—most notably dengue fever and leptospirosis—adding another layer of complexity to Sri Lanka’s disaster management landscape.

Societal Resilience in Disaster Management

As these converging crises demonstrate, Sri Lanka’s vulnerability to climate-driven disasters is no longer episodic but structural—woven into the lived reality of communities across the island. Yet amid repeated cycles of loss and recovery, what stands out most is not only the scale of devastation but the remarkable capacity of ordinary people to adapt, support one another, and rebuild their lives. This enduring strength points to a deeper truth: effective disaster management cannot rely solely on institutions or technologies; it must draw upon—and reinforce—the social resilience embedded within communities themselves.

Having lived under the influence of monsoons for generations, traditional communities developed sophisticated knowledge and skills to cope with nature’s unpredictability. Long before formal disaster management systems existed, villagers relied on environmental cues and collective action to prepare for seasonal threats. In the upstream and valley areas of the Kalu Ganga, for example, older generations still recall how communities repaired boats and rafts through shramadana well before the rainy season began. They observed the behavior of birds, animals, and changes in wind patterns to decode early warning signs that modern meteorology would later confirm.

Such practices demonstrate that traditional communities were not merely passive recipients of natural hazards; they were active interpreters of their environment. Their resilience stemmed from a deep ecological intimacy, a lived knowledge system refined through experience. Today, there is immense value in unpacking this traditional knowledge and synergising it with modern technology—not to romanticise the past, but to strengthen contemporary preparedness.

The Role of Community and the Political Domain

Building societal resilience requires more than cultural memory; it demands structured collaboration between communities and the political system. While communities are often the first responders in any disaster, the political domain plays a crucial role in mobilising, legitimising, and coordinating their efforts. Transforming political will into national will requires an organic articulation between civil society and political leadership—a partnership where both domains reinforce one another rather than operate in isolation. Within this broader framework, disaster management encompasses three equally critical components:

Disaster Risk Management

In each of these, the state has a vital role—from policy formulation to resource allocation, coordination, and accountability. Yet, the effectiveness of state-led initiatives ultimately hinges on the strength of the relationship between institutions and the communities they serve.

Beyond Culture: Technology and Institutions as Pillars of Resilience

While socio-cultural resilience forms an indispensable foundation, it is no longer sufficient on its own, given the scale and complexity of contemporary climate-induced hazards.

Modern disaster risk management relies on a robust interface between technology, institutional networks, and community participation. Advanced and accessible communication technologies—early-warning systems, mobile alerts, satellite data, and community-level dissemination platforms—play a crucial role in transforming timely information into effective action.

But technological tools reach their full potential only when supported by strong institutional structures, in both formal and informal, capable of mobilising people and resources rapidly and equitably. Thus, societal resilience can be understood as a system supported by three interdependent pillars.

Societal Resilience

When these elements function in harmony, the collective capacity to withstand and recover from disasters is significantly enhanced. Ultimately, social resilience is not merely the ability to endure shocks—it is the ability to recover with dignity. A humane disaster management system recognizes the agency, knowledge, and lived experiences of affected communities. It integrates cultural wisdom with modern capabilities, fosters trust between citizens and institutions, and ensures that every step of the disaster cycle reflects empathy, inclusion, and respect.

Immediate Community and Government Responses to the Crisis

Within ten days of the Ditwah disaster, the Sri Lankan government succeeded in rapidly mobilizing the security forces, key institutional structures, political leadership, and community organisations to confront the crisis. Given the scale and depth of the devastation, meeting the challenge and mitigating its effects seem to be a formidable task. The armed forces and government departments, supported by unaffected communities, provided exceptional assistance to meet the initial challenge. People in the South—often guided directly or indirectly by local political/community leadership—volunteered in large numbers, travelling to the hills to support recovery efforts. Much of the initial work of clearing debris and cleaning homes was carried out through community participation. Infrastructure repairs, particularly the restoration of roads, water supply, and electricity, were undertaken through coordinated action by relevant government agencies who worked tirelessly day and night. As a result, nearly 80 per cent of essential infrastructure was restored within ten days, with the exception of the severely damaged railway network, which requires longer-term reconstruction.

In the immediate aftermath, the government declared a nationwide state of emergency under the Public Security Ordinance, enabling the rapid deployment of resources across sectors. Through the Disaster Management Centre (DMC) and relevant ministries, authorities activated emergency operations: evacuation orders were issued in high-risk flood and landslide zones, shelters were established across the country, and search-and-rescue missions commenced immediately after landfall.

Concurrently, the government announced a comprehensive relief and recovery package. Affected households received allowances for cleaning and resettlement, support for temporary accommodation, and financial assistance for the repair or reconstruction of damaged homes. Immediate access to financial resources—including a Rs. 30 billion contingency allocation that did not require prior parliamentary approval—enabled swift implementation. The declaration of this extensive and unprecedented relief package played a key role in restoring hope and strengthening the self-confidence of affected communities.

Recognizing the magnitude of the crisis, the government established a special recovery fund that brings together public and private sector contributions to support long-term reconstruction, infrastructure repair, and livelihood restoration. Involving prominent private sector leaders—including those who are not aligned with the ruling administration—alongside government officials and key ministers is intended to build trust within the business community and reinforce transparency in the fund’s management. The substantial international assistance received and pledged reflects a renewed confidence among external partners in the government’s ability to manage funds transparently and ensure that aid reaches intended beneficiaries. Sri Lanka further collaborated closely with international and humanitarian agencies to scale up multi-sector support. Organizations such as the World Food Programme (WFP), International Organization for Migration (IOM), and World Health Organization (WHO) mobilized food, water, medical supplies, shelter materials, and rapid-response teams—often in coordination with government efforts—to reach displaced persons and vulnerable populations, particularly in remote and landslide-prone areas.

During this ten-day period, the President personally attended the district coordinating committee meetings in all cyclone- and flood-affected areas. These meetings brought together political leaders—both from the ruling party and the opposition—along with key administrative officers and representatives from the relevant line ministries to review disaster response, mitigation measures, and recovery needs. The manner in which the President raised issues, sought clarification, and directed action demonstrated a high level of preparation and a clear understanding of the scope and complexity of the damage. His engagement signaled a proactive and informed approach to crisis governance, contributing to more coordinated and timely interventions across affected districts.

Thus far, these measures largely pertain to confronting the immediate challenge and mitigating its impacts. Yet effective mitigation must ultimately lead into long-term recovery planning and strengthened preparedness for future climate-induced crises. Ditwah is not the first or the last. Climate change has altered the frequency, scale, and unpredictability of extreme weather events, making it clear that Sri Lanka must now learn to live with recurring climate hazards as a structural condition rather than an episodic disruption. This requires a sustained investment in resilient infrastructure, risk-sensitive development planning, and community-level adaptive capacity. In this sense, the response to Cyclone Ditwah should not only be understood as an emergency undertaking, but also as a critical moment to embed long-term climate resilience into national policy and institutional practice.

Lessons learned

The devastation wrought by Cyclone Ditwah has once again tested Sri Lanka’s institutional capacity, the NPP political leadership and peoples’ resilience. Since the 2004 Tsunami, the country has made significant progress in establishing organisational structures and policy frameworks for disaster management, making it a central domain of contemporary statecraft. Yet, the experience of Ditwah underscores the need for further strengthening in four key areas. First, given the multiplicity of ministries and agencies involved—from the Ministry of Disaster Management and the National Council for Disaster Management to the Disasters Management Center, the Meteorological Department and the National Disaster Relief Services Centre—clear mechanisms are essential to avoid overlap and ensure coherent, efficient action.

Second, disaster preparedness and response must harness the collective capacities of state institutions, NGOs, and community-based organisations, whose collaboration is indispensable for effective disaster risk governance. Third, the integration of traditional knowledge systems—rooted in long-standing practices of environmental stewardship and community resilience—should inform planning and implementation, complementing modern technology and institutional expertise. Finally, in a multi-ethnic, post-conflict society, sensitivity to ethno-political dynamics is imperative across all three phases of disaster management: preparedness, emergency response, and post-disaster recovery.

Ultimately, Cyclone Ditwah revealed both the vulnerabilities and strengths of the nation—demonstrating that while Sri Lanka’s systems were tested, its people were united in response, reaffirming the country’s capacity to confront adversity through collective resolve. The spontaneous networks of support that emerged in the cyclone’s aftermath demonstrated that unity is not merely an aspiration but an operational force in moments of crisis. In reaffirming the country’s capacity to confront adversity through collective resolve, the response to Ditwah offers a powerful reminder that the resilience of the people remains Sri Lanka’s most reliable foundation for future challenges.

by Prof. Gamini Keerawella ✍️



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The NPP’s Dilemma: Arresting Politics and Unarresting Progress

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The New Parody: NPP and its Lilliputians

by Rajan Philips

The 22nd Amendment has given the government’s critics a convenient cudgel to beat up the government. But there has been no crushing blow by any effective opponent. Too many people have been taking too many turns and striking too many blows, but no one has landed anything to shake the government in any way. The whole drama is the new Sri Lankan parody of Lilliputians taking on Gulliver. Nonetheless, the critics have found an opening to keep haranguing the government. There are two prongs to their exertions.

One is the pre-NPP past of the old JVP. In political years, the chasm is as wide as that between the Old Testament and the New Testament. This provides the basis for claiming that 22A is the NPP government’s first step towards ending parliamentary democracy. The hilarity of this accusation is matched by its hypocrisy inasmuch as the current chief accuser was also the high priest of the 18th Amendment that was set up to envision a third term for Mahinda Rajapaksa. Who else – but GL Pieris. One good thing the Bar Association did was to keep GL Pieris entirely out of its entourages.

The second front of attacks on the government is based on the JVP-NPP’s cohabitation in the Yahapalanaya diarchy of Sirisena and Wickremesinghe. Indeed, the question has been asked: Is Malimawa heading to be the second Yahapalanaya? If that were so, GL Peiris and others should be able to feign a sigh of relief that parliamentary democracy is indeed safe owing to the NPP’s incompetence. But the absurdity of the Malimawa – Yahapalanaya allusion is a different laugh. Perhaps, more than one laugh.

One is in the table-talk suggestion that “due to the misdeeds of Pohottuwa that followed Yahapalanaya, voters gave an overwhelming mandate to Malimawa…” Sanitizing the disaster that was Gotabaya presidency as misdeed is quite a feat. A more serious look is about the voters who gave the “overwhelming mandate to Malimawa.” Most of the Malimawa voters were peeled off the Pohottuwa vote block, while Yahapalanaya voters were left to choose between Sajith Premadasa and Ranil Wickremesinghe. Namal Rajapaksa who was supposed to stand down in support of Ranil Wickremasinghe in the hope of diverting Pohottuwa votes to RW. Instead, the Rajapaksa scion decided to get big race experience, fared badly in the race and caused another serial defeat for RW.

Arresting Politics

Now the political wheels are turning differently. Namal Rajapaksa has become the latest martyr of the government’s arresting politics. Illusorily or not, the young Rajapaksa believes that he’s finding political traction in the country and that the government is putting him behind bars to slow him down. Coming to his defence is of course the inscrutable (even to himself) Ranil Wickremesinghe.

Sajith Premadasa has apparently remained quiet so far, and so has the SJB. Neither has made any statement or expressed concern over the arrest of Namal Rajapaksa on Friday, September 4. It is not that Mr. Premadasa is becoming what Ranil Wickremesinghe was to Mahinda Rajapaksa – the government’s Minister of the Opposition, but the man has no political fire in his belly. If his passion is for wildlife, he should ask the government to put him in charge of running the Yala National Park. He can have a better animal farm there than what he seems to be suffering within his Party and in parliament.

Mr. Rajapaksa has been arrested over the Airbus purchase scandal that goes back to 2012 and 2013. The details of the scandal are known, and allegations of payoffs have been rumoured for quite a while. Yet it is the of pattern of Friday morning questioning, evening arrest and arraignment, and weekend incarceration – that has become all too familiar and fodder for cynical misgivings. There have been too many arrests but too few trials, let alone convictions. All arrests and no trials not only erodes public confidence in the process, but also let the criminals and their beneficiaries go Scot-free.

For his part, Namal Rajapaksa is claiming that the government timed his arrest to scuttle the political rally that he and the SLPP have scheduled for Saturday, September 12, in Anuradhapura. Their claim seems to that the Anuradhapura rally will mark the scion’s coming of age as a viable presidential candidate. The claim gets some credence in the context of the government’s own political planning for holding a series of pro-government public rallies where President Dissanayake will be both the show and substance. The first of the NPP rallies is coincidentally scheduled for Sunday, September 13, and also in Anuradhapura.

Next week, we will have all the commentaries and comparisons about the two rival rallies in Anuradhapura. Future rallies will show whether Mr. Rajapaksa is actually surging in the public recognition of his political abilities, and whether the government is actually concerned about this apparent surge and mounting a counter surge of its own. If all this were true, the irrelevance of Sajith Premadasa will become even more entrenched, and the personal relevance of Ranil Wickremesinghe will become even more real.

For the pundit theory is that while the NPP might view Namal Rajapaksa as a growing threat in popular politics, its more substantive fear is about Ranil Wickremesinghe and what he says about the economy. To wit, the government’s full throttled response to Mr. Wickremasinghe’s casual remark at a political book launch that the government may not be having enough forex reserves when foreign creditors come collecting in 2028.

The Real Question

The real question is apart from the show and tell of political rallies there is still not much to write home about government performance on the substance of the economy. The government has so far been quite good at keeping the economic house in order. Keeping order is not too difficult a task once you start keeping corruption out of the door. But there are no signs of the government doing anything substantial on the economic front, especially the export sector for without significantly increasing export earnings it will be impossible to carry out debt repayment.

The government has been commended for identifying 33 State-Owned-Enterprises (SOEs) for closure or restructuring. Yet there are a few biggies left, including the debt burdened Sri Lankan Airlines with about $ 2 billion estimated to be its accumulated losses. The government has also announced a slew of mega projects in highways and the energy sector. At the same time, there are ethno-economic criticisms that the government is delaying work on the KKS Harbour and the Palaly Airport projects that have Indian funding.

Highway projects can be a curse dressed up as blessing, and they are coming out of the same Rajapaksa economic playbook. There are rumours that would be corporate beneficiaries of mega highway projects have found an inside track to government decision makers. It is up to the government to prove that such allegations are untrue and to demonstrate that it will not be bought over in contract awards. Highway construction is also import heavy even with local contractors. The economic worry should be that with too many highway projects, all going on at the same time, there will be a drain on the limited forex reserves to bring in equipment and materials. That was the experience of the highway robberies under the Rajapaksas and the NPP government can forget the lessons from that era only at its peril.

On a positive note, there is commendable activity in the renewable energy sector, amidst warnings by the Public Utilities Commission (PUSCL) about new power cuts under El Niño weather conditions. The PUSCL recently approved new feed-in tariffs for electricity from renewable energy sources and has directed the newly minted National System Operator (NSO) to expedite the implementation of Battery Energy Storage System with sufficient capacity to accommodate solar energy. There is some and back-and-forth between the two agencies about implementation details, but that is a good disagreement to have as opposed to the prolonged agreement about doing nothing on renewable energy.

There is a new green light for the once controversial 350 MW LNG power project in Kerawalapitiya. The project is being undertaken by Sahasdhanavi Limited on a Build-Own-Operate-Transfer (BOOT) basis, and will be implemented in two phases. The unfortunate snag is that in both phases, initial operations will be based on diesel with expectation to switch to Regasified Liquefied Natural Gas (RLNG) which will require additional infrastructure and supply arrangements. One would hope that diesel generation will not become a permanent feature in Kerawalapitiya.

To its credit, the government launched Sri Lanka’s largest renewable energy project, the ‘Rividanavi’ Solar Power Park project, in September 2025, in the Monaragala District, as part of the target to generate 70% of the country’s electricity from renewable energy sources by 2030. Sooner the country reduces its reliance on thermal energy, the better for its economy and the environment.

The government seems to be wanting in messaging its achievements, big or small, to the public in consistent and convincing ways. The mode of messaging through presidential rallies may not have much benefit except during an election campaign. At the same time, the government is getting caught up in controversies of its own making. The exertions on all sides over the 22nd Amendment is a case in point. In the upshot, it is the judiciary that has been badmouthed and diminished. The lure of arresting politics could be appealing in the short term, but can come back to haunt one if no one gets convicted.

For all intent and purpose, the government has missed the bus on constitutional reforms. I would be the first to applaud if my prediction turns out to be incorrect. But the government cannot walk away from the economy the way it seems to have abandoned its promise on the constitution. And the challenge of managing even a small national economy is not getting any easier with all the havoc that the Trump Administration is wreaking on America and the world.

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Remembering Nihal Rodrigo: A friendship extending over 50 years

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Anila Bandaranaike as a graduate student at Cornel in the US (right) eating ice cream at Central Park with Nihal and Chitra Rodrigo and their twins

Nihal Passed away on 14th August, a few days after his 86th birthday. Nandi, Raffi and Anouk, his granddaughter, had been with him from New York till just a week before he died. In the weeks after he passed away, there have been glowing tributes to Nihal by his professional colleagues and from organisations in which he served. My tribute is personal, of friendship over decades with a multi-talented and kind-hearted gentleman, with a delightful sense of humour, who wore his talents so lightly.

I cannot speak of Nihal without talking of his wife Chitra. To me, they were an ideal union. They shared the same values of kindness, generosity, commitment, professionalism, humility and unquestionable integrity. They also shared many interests – in art, theatre, film, classical music (both oriental and western), literature and world affairs, to name a few. They were equal partners, each respecting the other’s views and looking out for the other. They had their arguments, but with never a loud, rude, harsh or unpleasant word.

I first met Nihal and his family nearly 50 years ago in Manhattan, New York. I had moved to Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, as a graduate student in January 1978. I had an introduction to them from my close friend Radhika Coomaraswamy, who had known them since her student days in New York. Nihal was Counsellor at the Sri Lanka Mission to the UN. He and Chitra, together with their 6-year old twins, Nandi and Satya, graciously opened their home to me. From the beginning, I was made to feel a part of this delightful family and I considered their apartment in Manhattan as my “home away from home”. I regularly dislodged one of the twins from a bed to a sleeping bag on the floor, whenever I turned up in the “Big Apple” on the six-hour greyhound bus ride from Ithaca, comfortable enough to occasionally bring a friend along as well!

I have such happy memories of walking in Central Park eating ice-cream with the foursome, or going to movies and Broadway shows with Chitra. Our friendship never wavered over the next several decades and geographical distances, as they moved from one diplomatic post to another. I remain ever-grateful to Radhika for that initial introduction.

My father (Sam Wijesinha) had befriended them before me, when he had accompanied a Parliamentary delegation to Australia in 1970, in his capacity as Secretary General of Parliament, and he was a great fan. Nihal was then acting High Commissioner and they had brought him to their home for a chat and informal dinner after an official party they had all three attended. When they got home, both Nihal and Chitra realized that neither had taken their keys with them and they were locked outside their own home with their guest! Undeterred, Nihal managed to prise open the kitchen window and climb into the house to let the other two in. My father remained a great admirer of Nihal and Chitra forever after!

From Counsellor in New York, Nihal rose to Ambassador status, SAARC Secretary-General and Foreign Secretary, and finally as our Ambassador in China. They were such fun and gracious hosts when my husband and I visited them in both Kathmandu and Beijing and made their home our base while travelling in Nepal and China. They were the perfect diplomatic couple, able to converse with, and entertain royalty, presidents, the literary, arts and business communities and regular citizens, with equal ease, grace and dignity. It certainly did not harm the Sri Lankan image that they were also an extraordinarily good-looking couple!

Nihal and Chitra met as students at Peradeniya University in its golden years. They enjoyed Ediriweera Sarachchandra’s plays at the famous open-air theatre, while Nihal was also President of the English Drama Society. On my return to Sri Lanka in the mid-‘80s, it was Chitra who introduced me to Sinhabahu and Maname, as well as all the glorious ballets performed by the Chitrasena and Vajira dance troupe.

As mentioned by others, Nihal was an authority on art and a painter himself. Nihal, Chitra and fellow students were befriended by George Keyt, then living in Kandy. Canvasses in their home showcase Nihal’s artistic talents, as well as early Keyt paintings, gifts from the artist himself. Later, Nihal served on and supported the George Keyt Foundation in many ways. He was also a lover of, and an authority on film. I remember especially the Audrey Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart classics. If one wished to watch, one had only to visit the Rodrigos and ask- Nihal had an entire collection of those DVDs.

Nihal could speak with authority, in language a lay person could understand, on geopolitics, especially the power changes taking place in an increasingly volatile world. His astuteness on Sri Lanka’s diplomatic relations was ahead of his time.

In the early 1990s, Nihal was Secretary to a high-level Foreign Affairs Study Group (FASG) appointed by President Premadasa and chaired by Dr. Gamani Corea, with Mervyn de Silva, Lakshman Kadirgamar and S.K. Wickremesinghe among its members.

As the Cold War had ended and Asia began emerging as an economic force, Nihal saw that, along with two economically awakening giants China and India, fast developing countries in East and South East Asia would become increasingly important to Sri Lanka for its own future development. He therefore officially co-opted me, from the Central Bank’s Economic Research Department, to provide the FASG with regular statistical updates of Sri Lanka’s economic and trade links with those very countries.

His thinking has proved correct, although I do not think successive Sri Lankan governments gave such astuteness the importance it warranted.

His final diplomatic posting, as Ambassador to China, reflected the enormous respect in which he was held. His time there was invaluable to Sri Lanka. Since his return to Sri Lanka in 2007, he was one of the most sought-after authorities on China in the region. He lectured in academic institutions and was a popular speaker on Sri Lanka’s foreign policy for well over a decade after his retirement.When his health began to deteriorate, he led a quieter life, meeting friends and family in their home, ably cared for by his devoted wife through the years that followed.

Nihal’s and Chitra’s interest in world issues and the arts have been inherited by, and nurtured in both Nandi and Satya, and most likely, Anouk too. Today, where are those delightful six-year olds whose beds I took over all those years ago?

Nandi is Head of Research at the New York Times Magazine, married to Raffi, a senior writer for the New Yorker, and Satya, a senior diplomat in Sri Lanka’s Foreign Service, currently serves as our Ambassador in Rome, with the same charm and professionalism as his father. So, to me, Nihal and Chitra were also role-model parents, giving their twins space to grow and develop their own individual personalities.

Nihal had many admirable qualities, but what I admired most was how his intellect and creative abilities sat so lightly on him. He shared of his knowledge, experience and wisdom without ever acting superior or talking down to anyone; he could turn a tense moment in a discussion and lighten the mood in a wink, with a delightfully witty remark or joke, and always had time to chat and joke with us younger adults, however busy his work schedule.

But Nihal was not all-perfect! It was Chitra, his soul-mate, he relied on so completely for all matters practical and financial, including hosting, entertaining and maintaining their homes all over the world, and for companionship, comfort, peace and harmony, in their own home in Colombo, in the final years of his life.

He will be missed by all who knew him, but we will all treasure memories of a talented, humane individual who made this world a better place. May he rest in peace.

Anila Dias Bandaranaike

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The Essence of the Notion of ‘Father’: A short review of Piyasara Gedara by Liyanage Amarakeerthi

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By Ashanthi Ekanayake

There has been a trend in social media in inquiring of its users what their favourite literary works are and I took some time to explore which poem I might single out as the best of its kind written in English which is of personal significance. I immediately thought of the poem “Daddy” by Sylvia Plath. I made the choice quickly because I had been thinking of it since I began to read Amarakeerthi’s latest novel. The notion of the father and the larger metaphor of the patriarch or the arch patriarch has been something all societies have grappled with since the beginning. Plath declares in the second verse Daddy, “I have had to kill you.” This act of parricide has been a strong metaphor in many literary works and also in the etiological myths of many peoples.

I was initiated to the history of our race and nation as a young child and I remember that I had no qualms about accepting that I came from a lineage which had a certain “lion” in the beginning and that the lion had two children and that they “married” to start our race. Firstly, I heard this story as a young child and “marriage” did not mean much to me, secondly, I was from a generation which was not allowed to question and challenge my “elders and betters.” I was also a somewhat passive and placid child. When it was (unfortunately) my turn to do the honours in initiating my own offspring they were not so gullible. They were appalled and not impressed. They said in one voice “what ignominy to trace one’s beginning to parricide, bestiality and incest.” Fortunately for me I know some “Classics.’ So, my rejoinder was that even the Greeks and Romans have similar accounts and reminded them of Oedipus. Oedipus and Sinhabahu both have to kill their fathers to come into their own, regardless of the fact that Oedipus meets with tragedy. The notion of the patriarch and succession through parricide has been a historical reality and a literary strategy explored by many and has an etiological function.

In this sense the narrative of Piyăsara Gedara by Amarakeerthi Liyanage makes the reader question this accepted notion of the patriarch and also the role of the father/father figure by their presence and absence in the novel itself. Not stopping there Amarakeerthi uses the shadowy and unnamed yet unmistakable character of “sir,” in the novel as a parasitic dramaturge who has a rather overbearing personality. This shadowy figure is mirrored by the introduction of fathers who are not quite fathers in the later chapters. Amarakeerthi has been committed to writing novels experimenting with different styles while touching on themes which are current and relevant. His unhurried creative exercise has always managed to keep the reader engaged in questioning social norms and accepted values and exploring the very politics of the creative enterprise and also recent events. The metaphor borrowed from a renowned stylized stage play is an extended metaphor with the heart room of the Dias home gaining an importance as a significant space. (I refrain from exploring the obvious nationalist aspect because the readers will come to these assumptions on their own.)

Just as there are many fathers, Dias appears to be just like the youngsters in the narrative, lost in the ruminations of what his father might have achieved had he not been in the shadow of the dramaturge who himself remains a shadowy figure in the narrative rather like the murder instrument which is not one. His realisation that his father was not unique and not deserving of many of the accolades that Dias had wanted as a son for his father gives the novel a certain bildungsroman/coming of age quality even though Dias appears to be relatively old. A rather late coming of age for Dias because he has to see that his father was not all that he believed him to be. This aspect of the novel also resonates with the notions of anxiety of influence/anxiety of authorship because Dias whom the playwright wants to rename is in fact doing much of the groundwork in research for the work the person referred only as “sir.” The other fathers are of a variety of types that we encounter in our everyday relationships. The absence of one father encourages one character to become vigilante like. The introduction of the manikin/mannequin or “womannequin” provides an alter-ego to one of the characters who is also described as doll-like.

As always Amarkeerthi’s latest creation is packed with metaphors which keep the reader alert in piecing together the story. He opens the novel using a technique resonant with the ultra-performativity of the current day and age. His narrative has a cinematic quality which is in keeping with the modern experience of a drone capturing the action as it takes place. This makes the novelist appear very powerful, even godlike and the experience makes the reader a viewer in a sense. He ties this narrative strategy in the final few pages and carries it on to the acknowledgement which is rather like watching movie credits roll at the end where he names the cast and crew.

In addition to the dramatic/cinematic quality, the novelist also uses onomatopoeia as a narrative strategy which I will not spoil for those who are yet to read the novel. Among the many themes explored are the

There is an irony in the notion of the patriarch because the very patriarch we challenge literally or figuratively is the one who gives us our name and our being and makes us into who we are, and ultimately renders himself a figure we have to destroy in order to come into our own. All the characters in the novel, main and the relatively insignificant are all used in exploring this metaphor of the father.

Plath says at the end of the poem “Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I’m through.” The irony of the presence or absence of the father and the notion of bastardy and the stigma involved and the social necessity of the presence of a father, is an aspect of our lives we will continue to explore in our creative enterprise.

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