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MONLAR, a force for food insecurity, now blames 70-years of government! 



Image courtesy CGIAR Research Programme on Water, Land and Ecosystems (WLE)

By Chandre Dharmawardana

According to newspaper reports (The Island 16 October [1]), an NGO carrying the acronym MONLAR has accused that “the agricultural policies of successive governments have rendered millions of Lankans insecure”. It claims that “as of today, 5.3 million people in Sri Lanka are food insecure. This proves that what the government has been doing for more than 70 years to this date to feed its people has failed”.

Doesn’t MONLAR know that Sri Lanka reached self-sufficiency in food several times during its 70-year journey [2]? This was thanks to its legendary rice scientists who came up with technological solutions that matched the increasing population of the country. It was their high-yield rice varieties and scientific agriculture that kept the nation fed, while the population tripled and the low life expectancy (at independence) nearly doubled.

MONLAR should know that the amateurish ideological interventions of pressure groups like itself, and their politicians have repeatedly destroyed the good work achieved over the years.  The target for self-sufficiency is well within reach [3], even after the chaos created by Premadasa’s “grama niladharis” (village officials – political henchmen) who displaced the agricultural extension services.

When Gotabhaya Rajapaksa banned the use of fertilizers, setting off agricultural destruction in April 2021, MONLAR was one of the first organizations to write to the President in acclaim [4]), aping the accolades to Rajapaksa at the Glasgow summit from the European eco-extremists [5].  They demand, not just sufficiency, but a choice in food, including a completely “Toxin-Free” diet while the poor have to face famine.

Even after the failure of those programmes, and the dramatic exit of Gotabhaya [6], MONLAR admits no mistakes, forgets its approbation of Gotabhaya’s ban, and now ascribes failure to “wrong method of switching” to organic! MONLAR says that “the agricultural and food crisis in Sri Lanka, which was exacerbated by the wrong method of switching to organic agriculture in one day, however has been gradually escalating due to the wrong agricultural policies implemented for decades” [7]. MONLAR does not understand that even if 10 or 20 years were taken for the “transformation” the same disaster would follow.

MONLAR, the “movement for land and agrarian reform” (with hardly a thought for a Sinhala or Tamil name) was founded by the late Sarath Fernando, an engineer who knew little about the topic. He came to radicalize farmers for the Marxist-Maoist revolutionary movement. In effect, MONLAR wanted farmers out of the fields and on protest marches – first the revolution and then agriculture! This was no different from JVP’s Mahinda Wijesinghe (a future UNP minister) telling me that the “Degree certificate” can wait for “system change”, at a time when I was his Chemistry Professor.

Sarath Fernando’s ideology unreservedly opposed “big agribusiness’. It landed MONLAR on the slippery path of “alternative agriculture” and all its myths.  False claims that the use of agrochemicals has led to an “exponential rise” in non-communicable diseases (NCDs) like cancer and kidney diseases have been a fear-mongering dogma of these activists as well as fellow travellers like Ven. Ratana, Dr. Anuruddha Padeniya, Dr. Channa Jayasumana and Dr. Ranil Senanayake. The latter published a graph “showing the exponential growth” of NCDs in Sri Lanka, without even realising that his data showed the expected (linear) growth in NCDs proportional to the increase in population [8]. The renowned environmentalist Rohan Pethiyagoda has released an excellent myth-busting video that every MONLAR fellow-traveller should watch, for their education [9].

The ex-ambassador to Myanmar and ex-Marxist chinthanaya guru, Dr. Nalin de Silva, not only agitated on all these fronts since 2011, but also established an occult justification for the validity of these agricultural myths through reference to communications from God Natha.

Nevertheless, the claims that dangerous amounts of pesticide residues are found on vegetables, and that vast amounts of cadmium or arsenic brought in via fertilisers have poisoned Sri Lanka’s agricultural soil as well as the rice crop turn outed to be false as shown by chemical analyses done even by Nalin’s own collaborators. Furthermore, Sri Lanka uses far less agrochemicals per hectare than New Zealand, Malaysia or India. Its soils can produce about 2 tonnes of rice/ha even without fertiliser; but not for long. That was why the ancients abandoned their plots to fallow and burnt out new chenas periodically.  Those methods of traditional agriculture are environmentally unacceptable.

MONLAR has agitated for “organic agriculture” which emphasises composting. Composting generates greenhouse gases (GHGs) like methane – 30 times more potent than carbon dioxide in global warming. These emissions catch fire and cause explosions at garbage dumps such as at Meethotamulla. Neither MONLAR nor Dr. Priya Yapa (an advisor to Gotabhaya) seems to have understood that several tonnes of organic fertiliser are needed to effectively replace a few kilos of chemical fertiliser.

Certainly, excessive use of fertilisers produces environmental pollution but it is easily controlled by using modern slow-release fertilizers and no-till agriculture, etc. So, “grama niladharis”, political henchmen or MONLAR-type ideologues should be replaced by knowledgeable agricultural technicians.

The Gotabaya debacle should have opened the eyes of MONLAR militants, but ideological shutters remain stuck. MONLAR leaders have admired and followed Vandana Shiva, the Indian pseudo-agriculturist who insists that Indians should use traditional seeds (bought from Nava Dhanya organisations linked to her), reject modern genetics and GMO products like Golden Rice – a rice crossed with the carrot gene and designed to prevent congenital blindness.

MONLAR and its fellow travellers, some monks and others with a misplaced nostalgia for the past, have pushed for “traditional rice” instead of the modern hybrid seeds, as well as traditional methods of cultivation. Traditional seeds and methods produced low yields, requiring more water, more erosion, more labour and more encroachment into virgin land. Various myth, e.g., that traditional varieties are “immensely healthier” had been fed to journalists who had not checked the actual (negligible) differences.

A key claim and aim of MONLAR and other activists are to phase out synthetic fertilizers, develop two million organic home gardens, open up two thousand abandoned village tanks, and turn to the production of biofertilizer, or even better, use biofilm-biofertilizers (BFBF) developed by scientists at the National Institute of Fundamental studies (NIFS). Documents from the Department of agriculture (DOA) and relevant ministries show that some four months prior to the 100% pitch for “organic agriculture”, the DOA had been arm-twisted into approving this BFBF although it would substantially reduce harvests.  Careful scientific reviews of the available data on these biofertilisers sponsored by the INFS shows that none of their claims for BFBF can be substantiated [10].

The idea of restoring small abandoned village tanks was already rejected during DS Senanayake’s era for very good reasons, and instead we have larger systems like Padaviya, Galoya, Victoria, etc. Maintaining small tanks with their high evaporation and silting is very expensive, but even the big modern reservoirs are said to be increasingly neglected, though easier to maintain.

Dr. Sarath Ranaweera (associated with “Biofoods” in Sri Lanka) is reported to have “exposed” the Tragedy of Modern agriculture [11]. He has claimed, “There are farmers who overcame the challenge posed by the chemical fertilizer ban brought about suddenly by the 2021 government using environmentally friendly methods as seen in the Ampara district. Ampara farmers cultivated using eco-friendly methods for three main seasons and achieved a successful harvest. According to the Department of Agriculture, farmers were able to achieve a yield of 5800 kg per hectare from the 4660 hectares cultivated in Ampara district using biofertilisers. This is an increase of 27.6% compared to the average yield of 4,546 kg per hectare using chemical fertilizers in Ampara over the past five years. Some remain skeptical about the potential of organic farming to increase yields and it is unfortunate”.

Other writers like Neville Ladduwahetty had read the Ranaweera claims and naturally accepted them to be true [12]. Determining the veracity of such a report requires a significant effort and scientific knowledge.  Those who sell biofertilisers claim that they can reduce the need for chemical fertilisers by 50% while boosting harvests by 30%. Our attempts to confirm the above from DOA officials, as well as our detailed scientific study, all established the above to be a false claim [10].  Ladduwahetty has argued (elsewhere) that even if the harvest were low, “organics” will fetch much foreign exchange and that is argument enough! But these harvests do not qualify as “organic” because the NIFS biofertilizers are ineffective without 50% chemical fertilisers!

So, that is the elitist false promise of feeding the rich, earning forex and then importing food to feed the poor?



[2] Food and Agriculture Organization, FAOSTAT database.

[3] Davis, K.F., Gephart, J.A. & Gunda, T. Sustaining food self-sufficiency of a nation: The case of Sri Lankan rice production and related water and fertiliser demands. Ambio 45, 302–312 (2016).

[4] MONLAR’s approval of fertiliser ban,

[5] Mat Ridley,

[6] Gotabhaya’s demise:


[8] Ranil Senanayake, The Island 10-10-2022: “If one looks at the statistics of rural health, it is clearly seen that the appearance of non-communicable diseases (NCD’s) in the rural sector began in the early 70s and has been rising exponentially since.”

[9] Rohan Pethiyagoda,

[10] Investigation on the efficacy of biofertilizers.


[12] Neville Ladduwahetty: IMF and beyond,

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Illegality of Urumaya programme



President distributing land deeds in Galle recently

by Neville Ladduwahetty

The Urumaya Programme, aimed at resolving land ownership issues for over two million Sri Lankans, was officially launched on 5 February in Dambulla by Minister Harin Fernando. During the press briefing the Minister is reported to have stated: “The programme’s aim is to provide permanent land ownership solutions. Over 10,000 land licensees currently holding Ran Bhoomi, Jaya Bhoomi, and Swarna Bhoomi licences will be among the first beneficiaries of this programme. These licenses will be converted into freehold deeds, granting them full ownership of their land. This move is expected to significantly improve the lives and livelihoods of millions currently struggling with land ownership uncertainties” (

Continuing he stated: “Our journey is far from over. Many of our citizens have lost homes, land, and their sense of security. To address this suffering, we have launched a special programme – “Urumaya” Through this initiative, we aim to bring about positive change for over two million people in Sri Lanka.    This involves granting freehold land deeds to those who currently hold licenses like Ran Bhoomi, Jaya Bhoomi, and Swarna Bhoomi.     By empowering our people with ownership, we hope to spark a new era of stability and prosperity” (Ibid).


“Delivering the 2024 Budget proposals, President Wickremesinghe unveiled the ‘Urumaya’ programme, wherein he noted that the land slots distributed among farmers under the licences of the Land Development Ordinance in 1935 would be handed back to farmers” (The Morning, February 18, 2024).

“Although around 100 years have passed, the ownership of these farmlands has not been handed back to the farmers who own them. We are handing over the lands to farmers who lost the ownership of their traditional lands during the British colonial era. We expect to commence this task in 2024 and complete it within another few years. Two million families will get the ownership of land and farmland. I allocate Rs. 2 billion for this purpose,” (Ibid).


The granting of freehold land deeds to over two million people in Sri Lanka raises several constitutional issues. The most fundamental issue is whether the government has the authority to grant freehold titles to lands and its resources to some, while such authority belongs to the Republic of Sri Lanka and ALL its Peoples as an integral component of their sovereignty.

For instance, the Preamble to the Constitution, which some consider to be of little significance, while others consider it to be the very embodiment of the core values of the Constitution states: “The PEOPLE OF SRI LANKA having, by their Mandate freely expressed and granted …. entrusted and empowered their Representatives …to draft, adopt and operate a new Republican Constitution…whilst ratifying the immutable republican principles of REPRESENTATIVE DEMOCRACY, and assuring to all peoples FREEDOM, EQUALITY, JUSTICE, FUNDAMENTAL HUMAN RIGHTS…”.

Arising from these core principles, Article 3 states: “In the Republic of Sri Lanka sovereignty is in the People and is inalienable ….”  The fact that Sri Lanka is a Republic is what makes its assets part of the sovereignty of all the People.    Furthermore, since it is the PEOPLE of Sri Lanka that have “entrusted and empowered their Representatives to carry out functions on their behalf, such Representatives do not have the right to grant part of the People’s sovereign rights and/or its resources that are inalienable, to a select few. However, it is imperative that a strategy is developed to address the issue at hand without violating provisions of the Constitution.



“The Constitution declares that sovereignty is in the People and is inalienable. (Article 3).   Being a representative democracy, the powers of the People are exercised through persons who are for the time being entrusted with certain functions. The Constitution states that the legislative power of the People shall be exercised by Parliament, the executive power of the People shall be exercised by the President of Sri Lanka, and the judicial power of the People shall be exercised, inter alia, through the Courts created and established by the Constitution (Article 4)”.

“The organs of State are guardians to whom the people have committed the care and preservation of the resources of the people. This accords not only with the scheme of government set out in the Constitution but also with the high and enlightened conceptions of the duties of our rulers, in the efficient management of resources in the process of development, which the Mahavamsa, 68.8-13, set forth”.

Other Lordships of the Supreme Court have also commented on the fact that certain Constitutional procedures need to be followed when granting or disposing of State Lands or other resources that belong to the People in the Republic.    It is the unilateral action taken under the Urumaya Programme without following due process as called for in the Constitution, that makes this Program illegal.

A “Brief Guide on Land Rights in Sri Lanka” states:

“State Land is alienated: • By Permit • By Grant • By the President

“State land is all land that the State is lawfully entitled to, or land which may be disposed of by the State together with any building standing thereon, and with all rights, interests and privileges attached thereto. This also includes lands of various Corporations and Boards. State land is administered at national, provincial, district and divisional levels by the relevant government officials” (Centre for Policy Alternatives, 2014).

By Permit:

“Permits are issued to particular categories specified in the relevant laws such as low-income earners and those who are landless.   Permit holders can use the land as specified in the permit including as a residence and/or for cultivation purposes.     Permit holders are required to pay a nominal monthly rental to the State. Permits can be issued as an annual permit or also known as ‘LDO permit’ when issued under the Land Development Ordinance” (Ibid).

By Grant

“(Swarnabhoomi, Jayabhoomi, R a n a b h o o m i, Ranbima – Permit-holders can convert their permit into a grant or a deed, if they meet specific conditions” (Ibid).

By the President

“The President can grant or lease State land at a nominal price or rent it for charitable, educational, religious, scientific or any other purpose” (Ibid).

Therefore, according to the “Brief Guide” State Land cannot be converted to freehold deeds that grant them full ownership of their land under the Urumaya Program without conforming to the above guidelines.

Since State-Owned Enterprises also form part of the sovereignty of the People, the intended proposal to privatise them, also faces the same restrictions. It is reported that the Mahanayake Theras of Malwatte, Asgiriya, Ramanna and Amarapura chapters have in a letter addressed to the President appealed to him to exercise caution about the sale of national assets such as state-owned enterprises” (The Sunday Times, 18 February, 2024).


The reason for granting freehold deeds is to enable current Permit holders to use the asset as collateral to raise a loan since existing provisions cited above are considered too restrictive.     Therefore, it is pertinent to consider what the existing restrictions are and consider what refinements could be made to existing provisions in order to mitigate the administrative impediments as much as possible while conforming to Constitutional provisions.

The strategy adopted by current Permit holders of State-Owned Assets is to form themselves into a Cooperative. Each member of the Cooperative pays a monthly stipend.  These are forwarded monthly by each Corporative to the Development Co-Op Society for use by its members to secure loans relating to Paribooga Loan (livelihood) and/or Housing Loan.  The process involved to secure a loan is quite rigorous and involves an evaluation of the capability of the member to honour required loan commitments by the Grama Niladhari and members of the Development Co-Op Society. This procedure has enabled members of the Cooperatives to secure loans in the range of Rs. 800,000/= to one million.

The granting of freehold title to current Permit holders, amounts to converting State land on which the asset is cited into Private land. This is a violation of the collective sovereignty of the People. Therefore, existing provisions granted to Permit holders should be revised in a manner where the Permit has a legitimacy equivalent to a title deed for all administrative purposes, except for the land on which the asset is cited.

Furthermore, if Permit holders are entitled to nominate a beneficiary, the interests of the original Permit holder would continue as it would be if the asset has a freehold title. If on the other hand, the original Permit holder did not have a beneficiary of choice, the asset would revert back to the State.    Such possibilities should be explored with caution instead of rushing to grant title deeds to People that may have the potential to disappoint them if they find that the deeds they received are not legal.


The intention of the President to correct an injustice by handing back traditional lands belonging to farmers that were taken over 100 years ago during British Colonial Rule, is indeed noteworthy.  However, there is a need to be conscious of the present context. That context is that Sri Lanka is a Republic and Article 3 of the Constitution states: “In the Republic of Sri Lanka sovereignty is in the people and is inalienable”. That being the case, Sri Lanka’s lands, its assets and resources belong to the People. Furthermore, since nearly all Sri Lankans have endured injustices of one kind or another, it is Illegal to correct the injustices committed against some, at the expense of the rest. This is what the Urumaya Programme is all about.

Therefore, it is incumbent on the part of the President and others associated with the Urumaya Program to act cautiously and revisit the legality of the Urumaya Programme before it is too late. If they proceed regardless, there is a strong possibility that beneficiaries of the Urumaya Programme may have to face disappointment later if it is found to be illegal. A similar note of caution has been issued by the Mahanayake Theras of Malwatte, Asgiriya, Ramanna and Amarapura chapters regarding State-Owned Enterprises.

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Among the Trobrianders: A Personal Journey



Royal Thomian. March 2023

By Uditha Devapriya

You are putting me in a hole.
No, I am taking you out of it!

Somewhere in 2016, I lost my first job.I had been working at my old school for two months, and had been led to assume that I would be retained to help them draft a communications policy. I was into PR, had hopes of entering advertising, and was looking for a suitable opening.

All of a sudden, I was told they didn’t need such a person.

I was 23 at the time. I had just completed law school and was waiting for my results.

It was not the best time to be idle. I needed a job.

And now, I was out of one.

I tried contacting friends and acquaintances, clinging to any mutual contact I could find.

None of it worked.

Frantically, I fired off one email after another.

I may have sent tens if not hundreds of emails. Many replied, and some asked me to come over to be interviewed. The interviews, however, all left a bad taste in my mouth. The jobs they had either paid too low or were outside my comfort zone.

Then an ad agency, one of many agencies I had emailed, got in touch. They scheduled an interview in December. There they said they wanted someone with “zero experience in advertising.” They thought I fitted the bill. They took me in.

By now I was freelancing to several newspapers in the country. I was writing on the arts, reviewing films, plays, the occasional exhibition. The pay wasn’t good, but the exposure was: it got me in touch with artists, directors, writers, dancers.

I had always been mad about culture and the arts. At school I had inclined to subjects like history and literature. Though I did not study them for my Advanced Levels – I chose Commerce, a “safer” stream, instead – I did not abandon them. I pursued such fields as a writer and a journalist after leaving school.

There was a problem, however. For more than a decade I had studied mostly in English, and had become ignorant of my language and culture. I came from a Sinhala speaking background, but since I spent six hours at school, two getting back home, and around five or six active hours at home, this did not amount to much.

In my time, the rage everywhere in the country was for English, Western, private education. Our parents had studied in the vernacular: Sinhala or Tamil. Yet after leaving school they had felt it would be better to have their children taught in English.

Public schools used to have English medium classes, but by the time I was born these had been abandoned. As a result, a new type of school had cropped up, catering to an ever-growing demand for English education.

The problem was that while we readily immersed ourselves in English education, many of us allowed ourselves to neglect our languages. Though our parents were concerned about what was happening to us and nationalist groups bemoaned what this was doing to our country and culture, there was little anyone could do about it. It did not help that in the classroom, we were tacitly discouraged from talking in Sinhala and Tamil.

June 2022

The result was that most of us came out knowing next to nothing about our language, religion, culture, society, even our people. I was no exception. Westernised, though in a half-baked way, I could not relate to the world I had been born to.

Lester James Peries recalled undergoing a similar experience at his school.

Some of us became snobs. Even today, I can’t speak Sinhala properly.

So did Osmund Jayaratne.

If, instead of Latin, we had been given a good grounding of our native tongue, Sinhala, I would have been very happy, but unfortunately this was not to be.

And so did Gamani Corea.
[F]or my generation, the lapse [in Sinhala] was a serious one and a handicap for later life.

These were sentiments I could relate to.

A few months after I began my job, I realized that things would only get worse. I may have been writing to newspapers on local art and culture, but I was writing in English, thinking in English, operating in English, living and breathing English.

My new workplace made me more conscious of these deficiencies. A good copywriter tends to be rooted in his surroundings. He or she tends to be bicultural, if not bilingual, and finds it easy to operate in both English and the vernacular.

My problem was that I was far from being bicultural, in any sense.

It was a hole I needed to get out of, and fast.

My coworkers had, in their own way, stepped in and helped me improve somewhat. Yet they were too busy. I realized I could expect only so much from them.

Someone else had to step in. Someone from outside.


Freelancing has its advantages and privileges. You aren’t constrained by deadlines, and you are free to write what you want to write. You get to associate with people who relate to you. You get to write on them. Often you get to learn from them.

One night in 2017, the Secretary of a school society called me. The society, the Library Readers’ Association, the oldest student-led association at the school, was organizing an exhibition-cum-quiz. They wanted a judge for the quiz, and an article written on the event. Since I had been a quizzer and was a writer, I seemed to fit the bill.

I duly served as judge, and the article, which the boys fortunately liked, duly got published. In Sri Lanka, however, events never really end: they lead to other events. Soon I was getting requests from them to write on other societies and clubs, including sports events. These were not typical press release articles, but full-length human-interest essays, different from the journalistic pieces that get written about such events.

It was then that I realised that most of these boys came from a world completely different to the world I had grown up in. Though they attended what was seen as the leading public school in the island, Royal College, they had entered it through the Grade Five Scholarship, and had been boarded at the school Hostel.

Hailing from villages that lay far away from Colombo – you had to fulfil a distance threshold to be boarded at the Hostel – they represented an antithesis of my personality. They had lived their entire childhood at home. As I talked with them, they regaled me with stories of the culture shock they underwent after they moved to Colombo.

At first our parents were worried. Would we grow up away from them?

The first English song I ever heard was our school anthem.

Some classmates mocked me, they made fun of the way I talked.

Becoming the butt-end of jokes, they adapted by either suppressing their identity or, in the more likely scenario, insulting the insulters.

In our first two years, we mocked those who spoke only in English in our classrooms.

They seemed too nerdy, too polite. They were like babies.

That, however, only heightened their fear of the language.

Of course, we were afraid of English. Some of us avoided it, others tried to master it. A few pretended it wasn’t important until it was too late.

Sri Lanka may be a small island, but it is home to an incredible range of cultures and subcultures. There is nothing monolithic about any of them.

A colourful bunch, these boys came from practically every corner of the country. In the way they talked, behaved, the way they interacted with outsiders and with me, they differed from one another. They were a microcosm of their country. Talking to them, I encountered the societies they hailed from, societies I had grown away from.

Slowly, but surely, our associations developed into friendships. As time went by, we realized that we looked at the world in different ways. Yet in one sense we were kindred spirits: we were all learning and absorbing a new culture.

For them, it was a process of discovery: living in a city, English, Western culture.

For me, it was a process of rediscovery: Sinhala language and literature, Buddhism.

In the end, we ended up teaching one another.

It was almost like Malinowski among the Trobriand Islanders. The difference, of course, is that they were as much an exotic Other to me as I was to them.

And like Malinowski and the Trobrianders, there were points of disagreement, difference, and incompatibility between us, often too big to bridge.

I found their views on culture and society intriguing. Yet beyond a point, perhaps because of my cultural conditioning, I found it hard to accept them. As an agnostic, for instance, I couldn’t relate to their religious beliefs, particularly their belief in the supernatural. Still, they expressed such sentiments with a lot of conviction.

Gods do exist.

When we feel them, we believe in them, we give them power.

Come over one day, I will show them to you.

If this is one of the more insightful comments on God-worship in Sri Lanka, or anywhere, I have come across – the notion that it is our belief in them that gives them power – it’s because it was said by someone who spoke his mind, someone who responded instinctively to such matters without intellectual obfuscations.

In other words, these boys weren’t just teaching and guiding me. They were immersing me in their moral code, their cultural universe. It was not exactly an encounter between two worlds. But it was an encounter between two ways of looking at the world.

To be sure, I still have not got out of my cocoon. I am still ignorant of cultural matters. I still make gaffes. There are times when I feel like a foreigner in my country.

Yet, largely through the intervention of these boys, I have acquired a decent understanding about things I was unaware of.


Late last December, describing my attempts at introducing him to sociologists and historians and at getting him to talk to them, one of these boys expostulated:

You are putting me in a hole.

To which I replied:

No, I am taking you out of it!

Life ultimately amounts to the people we meet and the friendships we form.

It is about what we do for one another, the lengths we go for others.

It is about teaching new things and learning new things.

Or, as my friend put it, about falling into holes and getting out of them.

Like what these boys did for me – and like what I like to think I did for them.

Uditha Devapriya is a writer, researcher, and analyst based in Sri Lanka who contributes to a number of publications on topics such as history, art and culture, politics, and foreign policy. He can be reached at .

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Tea Library Hikkaduwa comes alive



The Tea Library was opened recently in the heart of Sri Lanka’s most popular beach and surfing town Hikkaduwa. This is another venture of tea industry veteran Malinga Herman Gunaratne best known for ‘white tea’ – probably the most exclusive tea ever produced in the world. The Tea Library adds a new dimension to Hikkaduwa with its three story terracotta exterior and welcoming interiors.

It offers accommodation, a restaurant and a tea shop. The third floor which provides spectacular views of the beach and the Hikkaduwa town, features a mural covering the highlights of Herman Gunaratne’s life in the tea industry by artist Chandana Samarakoon. Architect Shayam Kumaradas has transformed this once derelict building into one of multiple uses and chic interiors. It features hand painted Mandalas by artist Maneesha Sewwandi on the walls of the bedrooms.

Opening times of Tea Library are 9 am – 10 pm daily and you can have an exclusive group tea tasting experience, or use the stunning upstairs restaurant space for events such as book launches.

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