Features
My experience in turning around the Merchant Bank of Sri Lanka (MBSL) – Episode 4
LESSONS FROM MY CAREER: SYNTHESISING MANAGEMENT THEORY WITH PRACTICE – PART 32
Previous episodes
In the previous episodes, I described the many challenges I faced after accepting the position of Managing Director of the Merchant Bank of Sri Lanka. It was a daunting task. The Bank had recorded a loss of nearly rupees one billion in the previous year.
I knew exactly what I was getting into, but the prospect of a serious challenge lured me into accepting the position—despite my wife’s strong objections. Her concerns were not unfounded. My office was on the 18th floor, and above it an Air Force unit equipped with anti-aircraft guns was posted. Because of its height, the building itself was considered a prime target for the LTTE at that time.
Previous episodes related to my implementing a new management style and a new management culture.
Restructuring continues: The capital reduction
The final stage of the restructuring process was a capital reduction, aimed at reducing the number of issued shares. This was not a straightforward exercise. It required careful study, and we therefore commissioned a leading law firm, together with capital market experts, to guide us. There were many obstacles to surmount such as getting shareholder approval, getting a court order in support, and finally the approval of the Registrar of Companies.
Our company secretary was deeply involved in studying the required procedures as very few professionals in Sri Lanka had prior experience with capital reductions at that time. I myself had been involved—albeit in a limited capacity—in the capital reduction of Dockyard Ltd, where I served as Vice Chairman, representing the interests of the Employees’ Trust Fund, of which I was Chairman during the 1990s.
After extensive research and consultation, we finally arrived at an appropriate formula. However, we soon realised that the process itself was extremely complex. Under the old Companies Act, the proposal had to be submitted to the court first, and only after obtaining court approval could we apply to the Registrar of Companies to proceed.
During my own internet research, I came across numerous examples of capital reductions from around the world. I learned a great deal from these case studies. The Singapore examples, in particular, were remarkably precise. One example even provided exact timelines—specifying the precise dates on which the court order would be granted and when the Registrar of Companies would issue approval. Subsequent events, however, proved that such meticulous planning was impossible in our context.
The Extraordinary General Meeting (EGM)
We cleared the first major hurdle by obtaining the lenders’ approval. The next step was to convene an Extraordinary General Meeting (EGM) to secure shareholder approval. Unfortunately, the EGM did not go as planned.
The meeting was delayed because the Chairman arrived late and shareholders were becoming increasingly restless. For an event of such importance, I had expected the Chairman to arrive early, mingle with the shareholders, and personally explain the necessity of the capital reduction.
As the delay dragged on shareholders began shouting demanding that I take over as Chairman and conduct the meeting myself. I was frantically trying to reach the Chairman by phone, but there was no response. His secretary eventually informed me that he was held up at another “important meeting”.
When he finally arrived—half an hour late—he walked into an openly hostile gathering. I immediately sensed that this mood would affect the smooth passage of the resolution. My fears proved justified.
I had prepared a very detailed presentation explaining the past, present, and future, and outlining exactly how the capital reduction would work. In simple terms, we were cancelling a portion of the shares held by shareholders, but they would not lose value.
To explain this, I will use a hypothetical example with imaginary figures. A shareholder holding 10 shares at a market value of LKR 10 per share would, after a 50% capital reduction, hold five shares. However, each share would then be valued at LKR 20, once the market adjusted to reflect the reduced number of shares. In other words, we were only eliminating what lacked real value. The shareholder’s total investment value would remain unchanged; only the number of worthless shares would disappear.
As I continued my presentation, I noticed that most of the senior shareholders appeared disinterested. Only a handful of younger participants showed any real engagement. At that moment, I realised a hard truth: a technical presentation was completely lost on this audience. They were emotionally charged and had little interest in logic or financial theory.
When the resolution was finally put to the vote, chaos erupted. My attempts to provide further explanations were futile. After nearly half an hour of confusion and raised voices, another Director—a highly respected individual—stood up, took the microphone, and addressed the shareholders.
He said simply:
“I know most of you, and most of you know me. There is only one issue here. If you want MBSL to continue operations on January 1 next year, please vote Yes. If you want it to shut down, vote No. So please raise your hands now, those in favour?”
A few hands went up immediately, followed by the majority. Only a handful voted against the resolution. The motion was carried.
Lessons learnt
That meeting taught me three important lessons.
First, shareholders are extremely sensitive stakeholders. If they feel disrespected, they can behave irrationally. Keeping the waiting for half an hour was disrespectful. Second, technical presentations are better suited to younger audiences, whereas emotional appeals resonate more with senior audiences.
Third, chairing a hostile meeting requires enormous experience, patience, and excellent listening skills.
Years earlier, while following a course in Japan, I had learned techniques for handling hostile subordinates and difficult teams. Had I been chairing that meeting, I would certainly have drawn on those lessons.
Obtaining the court order – and how the tsunami almost destroyed our plan
The next phase was obtaining the court order. After extensive preparation, we made the final court filing and waited anxiously. It took time, but eventually we were informed that the court had approved the capital reduction.
Once we received the court documents, the final step was to apply to the Registrar of Companies. All documentation was completed, and we followed up on a daily basis. On one particular Friday, we were informed that approval would be granted on the following Monday in December 2004. Then, quite unexpectedly, the tsunami struck.
The country descended into chaos. Nothing moved. Sri Lanka was in shock. Many people lost their loved ones. We were unable to contact the Deputy Registrar who was required to sign. When we finally reached him on Tuesday, he was in the South searching for his missing relatives. Understandably, he was in no mood to attend to official matters.
We empathised deeply with him but time was running out for us. If the process was not completed before December 31, 2004, we would have had to start all over again—a delay of several more months. We simply could not afford that. The bank was still haemorrhaging, and we desperately needed a closure of this exercise.
After many anxious moments, the approval finally came through on December 31, 2004, just moments before the deadline expired. It was an extraordinarily close call. There is no doubt that the stress and pressure of those days took a toll on our entire team’s health.
Closure and recovery
With the capital reduction completed, our balance sheet was finally clean. We announced a debenture issue, which was reasonably well subscribed, and we were able to refocus on core business operations.
Over time, we generated sufficient profits to pay dividends to shareholders, restore the staff bonus scheme, and reinstate all benefits suspended earlier. Trade union members once again participated actively in organisational activities.
My job was done. The promises I had made—to the Board, the staff, and the stakeholders—were honoured. I must say that this was not my single effort but a team effort. The team supported me at every turn, and remained committed until the end. It was a wonderful team and a wonderful Board.
The decision to leave MBSL
I was concurrently serving as Non-Executive Chairman of Dankotuwa Porcelain, a company with majority control by Japanese investors at that time. During that period, one CEO resigned after three days, another after one year, and a third also resigned prematurely. The Japanese shareholders—a consortium of three companies—told me that finding a suitable CEO was proving extremely difficult. They requested that I take over as full-time Chairman and Managing Director.
This request was made while the restructuring at MBSL was still on-going. I made it clear that I would not leave MBSL until I had delivered on my commitments. Once the restructuring was completed, they approached me again and asked, rather pointedly, “Now what is your excuse?” I had none.
I decided to move on to Dankotuwa Porcelain. I had always enjoyed working with the Japanese, and I felt completely comfortable with their management style. My experience at Dankotuwa Porcelain will be the subject of the next article.
Many people had raised their eyebrows when I first joined MBSL. “Are you mad to take the helm of a company in deep trouble? It is like flogging a dead horse” they told me. As I mentioned in an earlier article, even Mr Ken Balendra, the Chairman at the time, warned me that I was wasting my time and ruining my reputation.
Ironically, when I decided to leave, the same people asked, “Are you mad to leave a stable, profit-making company?”
I will cherish my time at MBSL for as long as I live. It was a tough assignment, but also exhilarating and deeply rewarding. When I later met Mr Balendra at the Golf Club, he simply said, “I knew you would do it.”
My personal policy has always been this: leave when people still want you, and never overstay until people have had enough of you. Equally important, I believe, is creating space for subordinates to move upward and grow. The next episode will cover my period at Dankotuwa Porcelain.
(The writer is a Consultant on Productivity and Japanese Management Techniques
Former Chairman/Director of several listed and unlisted companies
Recipient of the APO Regional Award for Promoting Productivity in the Asia-Pacific Region
Recipient of the Order of the Rising Sun, Gold and Silver Rays, Government of Japan
Email:
bizex.seminarsandconsulting@gmail.com)
By Sunil G. Wijesinha
Features
Relief without recovery
The escalating conflict in the Middle East is of such magnitude, with loss of life, destruction of cities, and global energy shortages, that it is diverting attention worldwide and in Sri Lanka, from other serious problems. Barely four months ago Sri Lanka experienced a cyclone of epic proportions that caused torrential rains, accompanied by floods and landslides. The immediate displacement exceeded one million people, though the number of deaths was about 640, with around 200 others reported missing. The visual images of entire towns and villages being inundated, with some swept away by floodwaters, evoked an overwhelming humanitarian response from the general population.
When the crisis of displacement was at its height there was a concerted public response. People set up emergency kitchens and volunteer clean up teams fanned out to make flooded homes inhabitable again. Religious institutions, civil society organisations and local communities worked together to assist the displaced. For a brief period the country witnessed a powerful demonstration of social solidarity. The scale of the devastation prompted the government to offer generous aid packages. These included assistance for the rebuilding of damaged houses, support for building new houses, grants for clean up operations and rent payments to displaced families. Welfare centres were also set up for those unable to find temporary housing.
The government also appointed a Presidential Task Force to lead post-cyclone rebuilding efforts. The mandate of the Task Force is to coordinate post-disaster response mechanisms, streamline institutional efforts and ensure the effective implementation of rebuilding programmes in the aftermath of the cyclone. The body comprises a high-level team, led by the Prime Minister, and including cabinet ministers, deputy ministers, provincial-level officials, senior public servants, representing key state institutions, and civil society representatives. It was envisaged that the Task Force would function as the central coordinating authority, working with government agencies and other stakeholders to accelerate recovery initiatives and restore essential services in affected regions.
Demotivated Service
However, four months later a visit to one of the worst of the cyclone affected areas to meet with affected families from five villages revealed that they remained stranded and in a state of limbo. Most of these people had suffered terribly from the cyclone. Some had lost their homes. A few had lost family members. Many had been informed that the land on which they lived had become unsafe and that they would need to relocate. Most of them had received the promised money for clean up and some had received rent payments for two months. However, little had happened beyond this. The longer term process of rebuilding houses, securing land and restoring livelihoods has barely begun. As a result, families who had already endured the trauma of disaster, now face prolonged uncertainty about their future. It seems that once again the promises made by the political leadership has not reached the ground.
A government officer explained that the public service was highly demotivated. According to him, many officials felt that they had too much work piled upon them with too little resources to do much about it. They also believed that they were underpaid for the work they were expected to carry out. In fact, there had even been a call by public officials specially assigned to cyclone relief work to go on strike due to complaints about their conditions of work. This government official appreciated the government leadership’s commitment to non corruption. But he noted the irony that this had also contributed to a demotivation of the public service. This was on the unjustifiable basis that approving and implementing projects more quickly requires an incentive system.
Whether or not this explanation fully captures the situation, it points to an issue that the government needs to address. Disaster recovery requires a proactive public administration. Officials need to reach out to affected communities, provide clear information and help them navigate the complex procedures required to access assistance. At the consultation with cyclone victims this was precisely the concern that people raised. They said that government officers were not proactive in reaching out to them. Many felt they had little engagement with the state and that the government officers did not come to them. This suggests that the government system at the community level could be supported by non-governmental organisations that have the capacity and experience of working with communities at the grassroots.
In situations such as this the government needs to think about ways of motivating public officials to do more rather than less. It needs to identify legitimate incentives that reward initiative and performance. These could include special allowances for those working in disaster affected areas, recognition and promotion for officers who successfully complete relief and reconstruction work, and the provision of additional staff and logistical support so that the workload is manageable. Clear targets and deadlines, with support from the non-governmental sector, can also encourage officials to act more proactively. When government officers feel supported and recognised for the extra effort required, they are more likely to engage actively with affected communities and ensure that assistance reaches those who need it most.
Political Solutions
Under the prevailing circumstances, however, the cyclone victims do not know what to do. The government needs to act on this without further delay. Government policy states that families can receive financial assistance of up to Rs 5 million to build new houses if they have identified the land on which they wish to build. But there is little freehold land available in many of the affected areas. As a result, people cannot show government officials the land they plan to buy and, therefore, cannot access the government’s promised funds. The government needs to address this issue by providing a list of available places for resettlement, both within and outside the area they live in. However, another finding at the meeting was that many cyclone victims whose lands have been declared unsafe do not wish to leave them. Even those who have been told that their land is unstable feel more comfortable remaining where they have lived for many years. Relocating to an unfamiliar area is not an easy decision.
Another problem the victims face is the difficulty of obtaining the documents necessary to receive compensation. Families with missing members cannot prove that their loved ones are no longer alive. Without official confirmation they cannot access property rights or benefits that would normally pass to surviving family members. These are problems that Sri Lanka has faced before in the context of the three decade long internal war. It has set up new legal mechanisms such as the provision of certificates of absence validated by the Office on Missing Persons (OMP) in place of death certificates when individuals remain missing for long periods. The government also needs to be sensitive to the fact that people who are farmers cannot be settled anywhere. Farming is not possible in every location. Access to suitable land and water is essential if farmers are to rebuild their livelihoods. Relocation programmes that fail to take these realities into account risk creating new psychological and economic hardships.
The message from the consultation with cyclone victims is that the government needs to talk more and engage more directly with affected communities. At the same time the political leadership at the highest levels need to resolve the problems that government officers on the ground cannot solve. Issues relating to land availability, legal documentation and livelihood restoration require policy decisions at higher levels. The challenge to the government to address these issues in the context of the Iran war and possible global catastrophe will require a special commitment. Demonstrating that Sri Lanka is a society that considers the wellbeing of all its citizens to be a priority will require not only financial assistance but also a motivated public service and proactive political leadership that reaches out to those still waiting to rebuild their lives.
by Jehan Perera
Features
Supporting Victims: The missing link in combating ragging
A recent panel discussion at the University of Peradeniya examined the implications of the Supreme Court’s judgement on ragging, in which the Court recognised that preventing ragging requires not only criminal penalties imposed after an incident occurs but also systems and processes within universities that enable victims to speak up and receive support. Bringing together perspectives from law, university administration, psychology and students, the discussion sought to understand why ragging continues to persist in Sri Lankan universities despite the existence of legal prohibitions. While the discussion covered legal and institutional dimensions, one theme emerged clearly: addressing ragging requires more than laws and disciplinary rules. It requires institutions that are capable of supporting victims.
Sri Lanka enacted the Prohibition of Ragging and Other Forms of Violence in Educational Institutions Act No. 20 of 1998 following several tragic incidents in universities, during the 1990s. Among the most widely remembered is the death of engineering student S. Varapragash at the University of Peradeniya in 1997. Incidents such as this shocked the country and revealed the consequences of allowing violent forms of student hierarchy to persist. The 1998 Act marked an important legal intervention by recognising ragging as a criminal offence. The law introduced severe penalties for individuals found guilty of engaging in ragging or other forms of violence in educational institutions, including fines and imprisonment.
Despite the existence of this law for nearly three decades, prosecutions under the Act have been extremely rare. Incidents continue to surface across universities although most are not reported. The incidents that do reach university administrations are dealt with internally through disciplinary procedures rather than through the criminal justice system. This suggests that the problem does not lie solely in the absence of legal provisions but also in the ability of victims to come forward and pursue complaints.
The tragic reminders; the cases of Varapragash and Pasindu Hirushan
Varapragash, a first-year engineering student at the University of Peradeniya, was forced by senior students to perform extreme physical exercises as part of ragging, resulting in severe internal injuries and acute renal failure that ultimately led to his death. In 2022, the courts upheld the conviction of one of the perpetrators for abduction and murder. The case illustrates not only the brutality of ragging but also how long and difficult the path to justice can be for victims and their families. Even when victims speak about their experiences, they may not always disclose the full extent of what they have endured. In the case of Varapragash, the judgement records that the victim told his father that he was asked to do dips and sit-ups. Varapragash’s father had testified that it appeared his son was not revealing the exact details of what he had to endure due to shame.
More than two decades after the death of Varapragash, the tragedy of ragging continues. The 2025 Supreme Court judgement arose from the case of Pasindu Hirushan, a 21-year-old student of the University of Sri Jayewardenepura, who sustained devastating head injuries at a fresher’s party, in March 2020, after a tyre sent down the stairs by senior students struck him. He became immobile, was placed on life support, and returned home only months later. If the Varapragash case exposed the deadly consequences of ragging in the 1990s, the Pasindu Hirushan case demonstrates that universities are still failing to prevent serious violence, decades after the enactment of the 1998 Act. It was against this background of continuing institutional failure that the Supreme Court issued its Orders of Court in 2025. Among the key mechanisms emphasised by the judgement is the establishment of Victim Support Committees within universities.
Why do victims need support?
Ragging in universities can take many forms, including verbal humiliation, physical abuse, emotional intimidation and, in some instances, sexual harassment. While all forms of ragging can have serious consequences, incidents involving sexual harassment often present additional barriers for victims who wish to come forward. Victims may hesitate to complain due to weak institutional mechanisms, fear of retaliation, or uncertainty about whether their experiences will be taken seriously. In many cases, those who speak out are confronted with questions that shift attention away from the alleged misconduct and onto their own behaviour: why did s/he continue the conversation?; why did s/he not simply disengage, if the harassment occurred as claimed?; why did s/he remain in the environment?; or did his/her actions somehow encourage the accused’s behaviour? Such responses illustrate how easily victims can be subjected to a second layer of scrutiny when they attempt to report incidents. When individuals anticipate disbelief, minimisation or blame, silence may appear safer than disclosure. In such circumstances, the presence of a trusted institutional body, capable of providing guidance, protection and support, become critically important, highlighting the need for effective Victim Support Committees within universities.
What Victim Support Committees must do
As expected by the Supreme Court, an effective Victim Support Committee should function as a trusted institutional mechanism that places the safety and dignity of victims at the centre of its work. The committee must provide a safe and confidential point of contact through which victims can report incidents of ragging without fear of intimidation or retaliation. It should assist victims in understanding and pursuing available complaint procedures, while also ensuring their immediate protection where there is a risk of continued harassment. Recognising the psychological harm ragging may cause, the committee should facilitate access to counselling and emotional support services. At a practical level, it should also help victims document incidents, record statements, and preserve evidence that may be necessary for disciplinary or legal proceedings. The committee must coordinate with university authorities to ensure that complaints are addressed promptly and responsibly, while maintaining strict confidentiality to protect the identity and well-being of those who come forward. Beyond responding to individual cases, Victim Support Committees should also contribute to broader awareness and prevention efforts, within universities, helping to create an environment where ragging is actively discouraged and students feel safe to report incidents. Without such support, the process of pursuing justice can become overwhelming for individuals who are already dealing with the emotional impact of abuse.
Making Victim Support Committees work
According to the Orders of Court, these committees should include representatives from the academic and non-academic staff, a qualified counsellor and/or clinical psychologist, an independent person, from outside the institution, with experience in law enforcement, health, or social services, and not more than three final-year students, with unblemished academic and disciplinary records, appointed for fixed terms. Further, universities must ensure that committees consist of individuals who possess both expertise and genuine commitment in areas such as student welfare, psychology, gender studies, human rights and law enforcement, in line with the spirit of the Supreme Court’s directions, rather than consisting largely of ex officio positions. If treated as routine administrative positions, rather than responsibilities requiring specialised knowledge, sensitivity and empathy, these committees risk becoming symbolic rather than functional.
Greater transparency in the appointment process could strengthen the credibility of these committees. Universities could invite expressions of interest from individuals with relevant expertise and demonstrated commitment to supporting victims. Such an approach would help ensure that the committees benefit from the knowledge and dedication of those best equipped to fulfil this role.
The Supreme Court judgement also introduces an important safeguard by giving the University Grants Commission (UGC) the authority to appoint members to university-level Victim Support Committees. If exercised with integrity, this provision could help ensure that these committees operate with greater independence. It may also help address a challenge that sometimes arises within institutions, where individuals, with relevant expertise, or strong commitment to addressing issues, such as violence, harassment or student welfare, may not always be included in institutional mechanisms due to internal administrative preferences. External oversight by the UGC could, therefore, create opportunities for such individuals to contribute meaningfully to Victim Support Committees and strengthen their effectiveness.
Ultimately, the success of the recent judgement will depend not only on the directives it issued, the number of committees universities establish, or the number of meetings they convene, or other box-checking exercises, but on how sincerely those directives are implemented and the trust these committees inspire among students and staff. Laws can prohibit ragging, but they cannot by themselves create environments in which victims feel safe to speak. That responsibility lies with institutions. When universities create systems that listen to victims, support them and treat their experiences with seriousness, universities will become places where dignity and learning can coexist.
(Udari Abeyasinghe is attached to the Department of Oral Pathology at the 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.
by Udari Abeyasinghe
Features
Big scene … in the Seychelles
Several of our artistes do venture out on foreign assignments but, I’m told, most of their performances are mainly for the Sri Lankans based abroad.
However, the group Mirage is doing it differently and they are now in great demand in the Seychelles.
Guests patronising the Lo Brizan pub/restaurant, Niva Labriz Resort, in the Seychelles, is made up of a wide variety of nationalities, including Russians, Chinese, French and Germans, and they all enjoy the music dished out by Mirage, and that is precisely why they are off to the Seychelles … for the fifth time!
The band is scheduled to leave this month and will be back after three weeks, but their journey to the Seychelles will continue, with two more assignments lined up for 2026.
In August it’s a four-week contract, and in December another four-week contract that will take in the festive celebrations … Christmas and the New Year.

Donald’s birthday
celebrations
According to reports coming my way, it is a happening scene at the Lo Brizan pub/restaurant, Niva Labriz Resort, whenever Mirage is featured, and the band has even adjusted its repertoire to include local and African songs.
They work three hours per day and six days per week at the Lo Brizan pub/restaurant.

Donald Pieries:
Leader, vocalist,
drummer
Led by vocalist and drummer Donald Pieries, many say it is his
musical talents and leadership that have contributed to the band’s success.
Donald, who celebrated his birthday on 07 March, at the Irish Pub, has been with the group through various lineup changes and is known for his strong vocals.
He leads a very talented and versatile line up, with Sudham (bass/vocals), Gayan (lead guitar/vocals), Danu (female vocalist) and Toosha (keyboards/vocals).
Mirage performs regularly at venues like the Irish Pub in Colombo and also at Food Harbour, Port City.
-
Business6 days agoBOI launches ‘Invest in Sri Lanka’ forum
-
News5 days agoHistoric address by BASL President at the Supreme Court of India
-
Sports5 days agoThe 147th Royal–Thomian and 175 Years of the School by the Sea
-
Sports6 days agoRoyal start favourites in historic Battle of the Blues
-
News6 days agoCEBEU warns of operational disruptions amid uncertainty over CEB restructuring
-
Features6 days agoIndian Ocean zone of peace torpedoed!
-
News5 days agoPower sector reforms jolted by 40% pay hike demand
-
News3 days agoCrypto loopholes funnel Lankan funds abroad
