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New government takes over, transition to SLBC

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JR Jayewardene

With the new government about to be sworn in, there was an immediate issue, which confronted WT Jayasinghe and myself. Had we to be present at President’s House when the new Prime Minister took his oaths? We were still holding the posts of Secretary, Ministry of Defence and Foreign Affairs, and Secretary to the Prime Minister respectively. As such, there was an element of duty in our being present.

On the other hand, given all the circumstances and the Sri Lankan context, there was the real possibility that our presence could be misinterpreted by both sides. Those in the SLFP camp could believe that we rushed to participate at the swearing in, in order to curry favour with the new government. Those in the UNP could think the same, and at the same time, hold us in contempt for being there. Under these circumstances, both of us decided that we would not go to President’s House.

It was up to the new government to decide, what to do with us. WT was convinced that he was heading home, after the passport incident relating to Mr. JR Jayewardene, which I have narrated. As for me, I was a public servant, and was well aware that I was bound to serve in any area and in any post the government wanted me to. But, at this time, I was somewhat worriedly hoping that I would not be transferred out of Colombo to some distant place.

The reason for this was that my father, who was over 88 years in age had, according to the doctors, entered upon the last stages of his life. He was confined to bed and under close treatment. My mother, my wife and I were looking after him. Both as an only child, as well as out of a sense of gratitude for what he had done for me, I wanted very much to be near my father, and do whatever I could personally for him during these last stages.

Invitation by the President

Our decision not to go to President’s House was unexpectedly overridden. WT rang me at home and said that Mr. Gopallawa, the President had rung him up, and requested his presence at the swearing in ceremony. The President had also asked WT to contact and convey to me that I should be present too. This was typical of the sense of propriety and thoroughness of the President. He would have been reviewing all the arrangements for the swearing in, and in that context decided that we should officially be there.

WT ended the telephone conversation with me by asking the startling but what was to him, the most important question of whether it was necessary for him to wear a suit! WT hated wearing suits, and one of the major irritations he would have undergone as Foreign Secretary, would undoubtedly have been the number of occasions he would have had to wear one. I would have been surprised at this question had it come from anyone else but WT. But I knew something about his tastes and distastes. I told him not to be silly. I told him, that for one, the President, who was always quite proper would think that we had taken leave of our senses, if we ambled into the ceremony in shirt and tie. I told him further that casualness in dress, on a formal occasion, where we were present at the invitation of the President, would constitute disrespect to him, and could also be misunderstood by the new Prime Minister. WT, philosophically bowed to the law of inevitability.

Mr. JR Jayewardene was sworn in as Prime Minister on the morning of 23rd July 23, 1977. When WT and I went to President’s House there was the bustle usual on these occasions. Important members of the UNP were strutting around. Some not so important ones, were even more conspicuous walking about in the President’s House with a proprietary air. It was as if the whole country now belonged to them, and President’s house was but an insignificant portion of it.

I witnessed a similar phenomenon in 1970 when the coalition government headed by the SLFP came in. On both occasions, this display of power and inflated importance was not visible in the Prime Ministers or some of their senior advisors or colleagues. But it was the general spectacle of a majority who were basking in reflected glory.

WT and I were standing around, trying to look inconspicuous, which was not easy given WT’s towering- height and my own height and build. Mr. JR Jayewardene had arrived and was in conversation with the President. The oath had not been administered as yet. We were downstairs in the lobby, and wondering whether to go upstairs or not when Mr. Menikdiwela came briskly down the stairs. He saw us and asked WT to go up immediately.

He then turned to me and advised, that I should go to the Prime Minister’s office, next door, straightaway and receive the Prime Minister when he first came into the office, which he said he was going to do immediately after taking his oaths. This was, he said, because I was still officially Secretary to the Prime Minister. I told him that the President wanted me to be at President’s House. Mr. Menikdiwela, undertook to tell the President of this change of plan.

By now a large crowd, consisting mainly of UNP supporters were thronging the roads and a particularly heavy contingent were gathered opposite the General Post Office, facing President’s House. I walked through the crowds to the Prime Minister’s office next door, and prepared the office to receive the new Prime Minister. Mr. Jayewardene, however, after taking his oath did not come to office as was expected. Instead, he drove home to see his wife Mrs. Elina Jayewardene.

His wife, a gracious, cultured and simple lady had declined to go to President’s House for the swearing in. It was in her nature to eschew ostentation and to shun the limelight. Mr. Jayewardene and she were a very close couple, and I was told later that that was the reason why he went to see his wife first before coming to office and beginning to function as Prime Minister.

The new Prime Minister visits his office

Mr. Jayewardene arrived at the office a little before noon, accompanied by Mr. Menikdiwela. I greeted and welcomed him at the portico and ushered him up the rather imposing staircase to the prime minister’s room. While I was walking behind him, Mr. Menikdiwela whispered to me to speak to him about my future. As I had already described in an earlier chapter, Mr. Jayewardene was a person of few words.

As he sat in his chair, he asked both of us to sit. He then informed me that he had decided to appoint Mr. Menikdiwela as his Secretary. This was expected, and therefore no surprise. Then he inquired from me “Where do you want to go? o? What do you want to do?” I said, that I was a public servant and that I would go where the government wanted me to. Mr. Jayewardene thought awhile, and said “I have a problem at the SLBC. I am told that there is trouble there and the place is breaking down. I understand that the previous Chairman had to be taken out of the place under armed escort. I want you to go there and take charge immediately. I have to announce my Cabinet.”

Mr. Menikdiwela inquired “Sir, is he to go as Chairman or Director-General?” “Let him be both,” replied the prime minister. I was at least happy that I would be in Colombo, to see to my father’s needs. But this happiness was considerably diluted by the thought of the place to which I was going. The Sri Lanka Broadcasting Corporation at the best of times had a reputation of being a difficult place to manage.

Immediately after a general election and a change of government the prospect was daunting. Those days some people called it “The snake pit.” The previous Chairman, Ridgeway Tillekeratne had to be protected and escorted out by the Navy guards who were responsible for guarding the SLBC. But Ridgeway had at least partly brought this on himself. He did a great deal to improve the program content in particular, but gradually became openly identified with the SLFP.

I remember speaking to him about this, on a couple of occasions. Nevertheless, he went on heedless. I was taken aback by this sudden appointment and when my wits started to function again, I wanted to try to get out of it, if possible. I therefore told the Prime Minister, “Sir, I don’t know much about broadcasting.” Mr. Jayewardene was not to be denied. He suavely replied, “You know, I was once Minister in Charge of Broadcasting. But at the end of that period, I couldn’t say I knew much about broadcasting either!”

It was clear that there was no getting out of the situation. The Prime Minister was now clearly in a hurry, and I did not wish to delay him. I rose, said “Thank you,” and began walking out. Half way to the door, I turned around, walked back and asked the Prime Minister “Sir, before I go and assume duties, could you please tell me what your broadcasting policy is?” The question clearly caught him by surprise. He pondered for a moment and said, “Mr. G.V.P. Samarasinghe is on his way here. Speak to him before you go. You will also have a Minister soon. But please go very early. I don’t want a major breakdown in that place.”

Mr. G.V.P. Samarasinghe was a former Senior Civil Servant who functioned as Permanent Secretary to important Ministries such as Industries; and Defence and External Affairs, and who since his retirement from service had been assisting the UNP in a tangible way. The Prime Minister was to appoint him as Secretary to the cabinet. Pending his arrival, I quickly went round the office and the adjoining Ministry of Defence and Foreign Affairs bidding good bye to the many whom I had been working with for over seven years.

When I went back to my former office, Mr. Menikdiwela who was seated in my chair got up and offered me the chair, and I had to insist that he sit in it. He treated me with utmost courtesy and consideration, the same manner I had treated him in May 1970, when I walked into the Prime Minister’s office, where he was Assistant Secretary. Mr. Samarasinghe came in and I had a brief discussion with him. His advice was, not to make any major changes until I had had an opportunity to discuss matters with the new Minister.

I had decided, that I would quickly go home, change, grab some lunch, and then go to the SLBC. I anticipated that once I got there, I was going to be stuck there for quite awhile.

(Excerpted from In Pursuit of Governance, autobiography of MDD Peiris)

(Next week: Taking over at SLBC)



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Features

High Stakes in Pursuing corruption cases

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Kapila Chandrasena

The death of the most important suspect in the Sri Lankan Airlines Airbus deal has drawn intense public speculation. Kapila Chandrasena the former CEO of the heavily loss-making national airline was found dead under circumstances that the police are still investigating.

He had recently been arrested by the Commission to Investigate Allegations of Bribery or Corruption in connection with the controversial Airbus aircraft purchase agreement signed in 2013. Police investigations are continuing into the cause of death and whether or not he committed suicide. The unresolved death brings to light the high stakes involved in accountability efforts of this nature.

The uncertainty surrounding Chandrasena’s death has revived public memories of other mysterious deaths linked to corruption investigations and public scandals. Among them is the death of Rajeewa Jayaweera, a former SriLankan Airlines executive and outspoken critic of the Airbus transaction. He was following in the tradition of his father, the late foreign service officer and public servant Stanley Jayaweera who mentored the younger generation in good governance practices and formed the group “Avadhi Lanka” along with icons such as Prof Siri Hettige. Rajeewa had written a series of articles exposing irregularities in the deal before he was found dead near Independence Square in Colombo in 2020. The CCTV cameras in that high security area were turned off. Questions raised at that time whether or not he had committed suicide were not satisfactorily resolved.

The controversy about the cause of Chandrasena’s death is diverting attention away from the massive damage done to the country by the SriLankan Airlines deal itself. The value of the aircraft agreement was close to the size of the International Monetary Fund bailout package that Sri Lanka desperately needed by 2023 in order to stabilise the economy after bankruptcy. Sri Lanka’s IMF Extended Fund Facility amounted to about USD 3 billion spread over four years. The comparison shows the scale of the losses and liabilities that irresponsible and corrupt decisions have imposed on the country and which must never happen again.

Wider Pattern

The corruption linked to the Airbus transaction came fully into the open only because of investigations conducted outside Sri Lanka. In 2020 Airbus agreed to pay record penalties of more than EUR 3.6 billion to authorities in Britain, France and the United States to settle global corruption investigations. Sri Lanka was identified as one of the countries where bribes had allegedly been paid in order to secure contracts. The Airbus deal involved the purchase of six A330 aircraft and four A350 aircraft valued at approximately USD 2.3 billion. Investigations showed that Airbus paid bribes amounting to nearly USD 16 million in order to secure the contract. According to court submissions, at least part of this money amounting to USD 2 million was transferred through a shell company registered in Brunei and routed through Singapore bank accounts linked to the late airline CEO and his wife.

The commissions involved in this deal may seem comparatively small compared to the overall value of the contracts but devastating in their consequences. But they also show that a few million dollars paid secretly to decision makers could lead to the country assuming liabilities worth hundreds of millions or even billions of dollars over decades. This is why corruption is not simply a moral issue. It is a direct economic assault on the living standards of ordinary people. Money lost through corruption is money unavailable for schools, hospitals, rural development and job creation. In the end the burden falls on ordinary citizens who are left to repay debts incurred in their name without receiving commensurate benefits in return.

The SriLankan Airlines transaction gives an indication of the wider pattern of corruption and misuse of national resources that has taken place over many years. This was not an isolated incident. There were numerous large scale infrastructure and procurement projects that imposed heavy debts on the country while enriching politically connected individuals and their associates. Other projects such as the Colombo Port City, Hambantota Harbour and highway construction reveal a similar pattern.

Less publicised but equally damaging scandals have involved fertiliser medicine and energy contracts. Investigations into medicine procurement in recent years uncovered allegations that substandard pharmaceuticals had been imported at inflated prices causing both financial losses and risks to public health.

Moral Renewal

The present government appears determined to investigate major corruption cases in a manner that no previous government has attempted. Those who ransacked and bankrupted the treasury need to be dealt with according to the law. There is considerable public support for efforts to recover stolen assets and ensure accountability.

In his May Day speech President Anura Kumara Dissanayake stated that around 14 corruption cases were nearing completion in the courts this very month and called upon the public to applaud when verdicts are delivered. Political opponents of the government claim that such comments could place pressure on the judiciary and blur the separation between political leadership and the courts. But the deeper public frustration that underlies the president’s remarks also needs to be understood.

The challenge facing Sri Lanka is twofold. The country must ensure that justice is done through due process and independent institutions. If anti corruption campaigns become politicised they can lose legitimacy. But if corruption and abuse of power continue without consequences the country will remain trapped in a cycle of economic decline and moral decay. Sri Lanka also needs to confront past abuses linked to the war period. There are allegations of kidnapping, extortion, disappearances and criminal activity in which members of the security forces have been implicated. Vulnerable sections of the population suffered greatly during those years. If political leaders turned a blind eye or actively connived in such crimes they too need to be held accountable under the law. Selective justice will not heal the country. Accountability must apply across the board regardless of political position, ethnicity or institutional power.

Sri Lanka has paid a very heavy price for corruption and impunity. The economic collapse of 2022 did not occur overnight. It was the result of years of bad governance, reckless decision making, abuse of power and the misuse of public wealth. If the country is to move forward the focus cannot be diverted by sensational speculation alone. Suspicious deaths and political intrigue may dominate headlines for a few days. But the larger issue is the system that enabled corruption to flourish without accountability for so long. The real national task is to end that system. Sri Lanka cannot build a prosperous future on a foundation of corruption and impunity. Unless those who looted public wealth are held accountable and the systems that enabled them are dismantled, the country risks repeating the same cycle again.

Jehan Perera

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When University systems fail:Supreme Court’s landmark intervention in sexual harassment case

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Over seven years after making an initial complaint of sexual harassment against her research supervisor, Dr. Udari Abeyasinghe, then a temporary lecturer and now a senior lecturer at the University of Peradeniya, has been finally served justice. On May 8, 2026, the Supreme Court made the following directions regarding Udari’s fundamental rights case: “1) The 1st Respondent [her research supervisor] is prohibited from accepting any post, whether paid or not or honorary, in any university, educational institute or other academic institution; 2) The UGC to issue a direction to all universities and other institutions, coming under its purview, to abstain from giving any appointment, whether paid or not, or honorary, to the 1st Respondent; and 3) The University of Peradeniya, including the Council and respective Respondent [sic], are directed to take appropriate measures to enforce and raise awareness of the University of Peradeniya’s policy on Sexual or Gender-Based Harassment and Sexual Violence for staff and students, including conducting mandatory annual seminars for all academics, staff and students.” I recently spoke with Udari to learn about her experience battling the University’s sexual and gender-based violence (SGBV) procedures.

Violence and injustice

Udari was a temporary lecturer when she began working on her MPhil degree. Her research supervisor was a Senior Professor and Dean of her faculty. The harassment began in 2017.

When Udari reached out for support to the SGBV Committee of the University of Peradeniya, the Chair explained the complaint procedure, including how a third party could make a complaint on her behalf. In July 2018, Udari’s mother made a written complaint to the Vice Chancellor (VC). “The very next day [my supervisor] called me … and asked me to withdraw the complaint because it would look bad for me … the university should have taken measures to separate the complainant from the perpetrator … but nothing like that happened.”

Before making the formal complaint, Udari reached out to other academic staff at her Faculty. She shared her experience with a few close colleagues. Many advised her to leave the Faculty. “No one in the Faculty supported me publicly, although some sympathised privately … I was a temporary lecturer … no one really cared.” Some of her colleagues and non-academic staff who knew about the harassments, asked her to avoid involving them because they feared retaliation from higher powers.

Udari faced a preliminary inquiry and then a formal inquiry. The preliminary inquiry took place about four months after her complaint, and the inquiry committee recommended proceeding to a formal inquiry. The latter was held about a year after the initial complaint. “I got to know unofficially that [my supervisor] had got hold of all the statements made at the preliminary inquiry and pressured some colleagues to change their statements before the formal inquiry.” During the time of the formal inquiry, an anonymous letter (“kala paththaraya”) was circulated among staff: “It was a character assassination … the same kala paththaraya would get circulated from time to time.” After the formal inquiry committee submitted its report and recommendations, Udari was informed, in writing, that the University Council had dismissed the report.

“Neither the preliminary inquiry report nor the formal inquiry report were shared with me … I had to make a formal request to the VC and only then did I get a copy of the preliminary inquiry report… I had to get the formal inquiry report through an RTI (a request under the Right to Information Act). What I understand is that [my supervisor] had influenced the Council … that’s why they rejected the report…saying there had been a delay of six months to make a complaint ….” (N. B. there are no time limitations for submitting a complaint in the SGBV by-laws of the University of Peradeniya, although such time bars exist at other universities).

Udari then submitted formal complaints to the University Grants Commission (August 2020) and the Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka (December 2020), and finally filed a fundamental rights case at the Supreme Court in March 2021. Five years later, on May 8th 2026, Udari’s complaint was vindicated.

University procedures and inquiries

When her mother submitted the complaint against her supervisor, Udari was a temporary lecturer. She had given up her dream of pursuing an academic career because she did not think she would be recruited to a permanent position after making a complaint against a faculty member. It is encouraging that Udari was recruited, but in most instances, students and junior staff endure and stay silent to avoid jeopardising their academic careers. We currently have no procedures in place at universities to protect victims and witnesses from backlash.

According to Udari, the former Chair of the SGBV Committee and the members of her preliminary inquiry panel played a crucial role in her case, and, in her words, “could not be influenced.” But SGBV by-laws at state universities place inordinate power in the hands of the Council and VC. According to the SGBV by-laws of the University of Peradeniya, the Council appoints the 15-member SGBV Committee comprising “[t]wo (02) persons from among the members of the Council; [t]en (10) persons drawn from the permanent and senior members of the academic community; and [t]hree (03) persons external to the University, from among the retired academic or administrative staff of the University” (Section 2.1). While the by-laws recommend appointing persons who have demonstrated “gender-sensitivity, proven interest in working on issues of gender equality and equity, and trained to investigate and inquire into cases of sexual or gender-based harassment and sexual violence” (Section 2.1), we know this is often not the case. In many universities, VCs control which cases are taken up and end up in an inquiry. Most students and staff at state universities have little faith in the existing SGBV complaint procedures.

As Udari experienced, the decisions of inquiry committees can be overruled and dismissed by University Councils, indicating the importance of appointing appropriate members to the Councils. The Deans of faculties, who are Ex-officio members, usually collude to protect their own interests and fiefdoms, while the appointment of external members to Councils is deeply politicised. At present, there is no application process or vetting of candidates before they are appointed. They are usually persons who are seen to be sympathetic to the incumbent political dispensation. Furthermore, external members are dependent on the university hierarchy for information on the issues being discussed, the details of which are often hidden from them. It is not surprising then that University Councils would adjudicate on the side of power.

Final recommendation

Beyond barring Udari’s former research supervisor from holding positions in the university system, the Supreme Court has directed the University of Peradeniya to raise awareness on SGBV among staff and students. While SGBV is addressed in the induction courses and orientation programmes at universities, staff and students must be made aware of the nitty-gritties of complaint procedures, including time bars, which were crucial to the outcome of Udari’s case. But is raising awareness sufficient? Do we have ways to hold university authorities accountable for arbitrary and/or prejudicial decision-making and other abuses of power?

For Udari, life continues to be difficult, with constant surveillance of her activities.

“In November 2024 , I shared a post about my case.. it was a newspaper article stating that the Supreme Court had granted leave to proceed… I just took a photograph of it and posted it on my Facebook without any captions… a few weeks later I was summoned by higher authorities…I was informed that several academics had verbally complained about me using my social media to tarnish the name of the faculty and the university and, if that’s the case, that I should know that the University Council has the authority to take action against me … we also spoke briefly about the case and at one point I was told that this incident (harassment) happened to me because I showed some positivity towards (the perpetrator) …”

Let’s hope that university administrations pause before victimising and revictimising SGBV survivors in future. As a community, we have to rethink the hierarchical ways in which universities function and create a meaningful mechanism that supports students and staff to complain without fear of repercussion.

Thank you, Udari, for taking this step forward. University administrations will have to stop, listen and change their ways.

(Ramya Kumar is attached to the Department of Community and Family Medicine, Faculty of Medicine, University of Jaffna, and is an alumna of 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 Ramya Kumar

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‘Nidahase’ in the spotlight

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Senani Wijesena, the Sri Lankan-Australian singer-songwriter, known for fusion pop/R&B with ethnic elements, like the tabla and sitar, is in the news again.

She was featured in The Island, in early April (2026), regarding her career in the music scene, and the release of her first ever Sinhala song ‘Nidahase.

The song was released in Sri Lanka, on 17th April, with Senani in town to do the needful.

The music video was filmed at the Polgampola Waterfall, in Sri Lanka, and also features co-star Senura Ambegoda … playing the romantic interest.

Describing the setup, Senani had this to say:

“To achieve the high falls scenes, I had to climb large rocks and slippery edges to get to the top of the falls, and I had to do it in the yellow saree I was wearing. Of course the film crew assisted me.”

The initial scenes were filmed in bustling Pettah where Senani meets co-star Senura Ambegoda, working in a street stall, and when their eyes meet it triggers a memory of soul connection and transports her into another world entering the forest scene.

The forest, says Senani, symbolically represented a retreat to nature and peace.

The couple later rejoin at Colombo City Centre where they danced together and enjoyed each other’s company.

Says Senani: “The short dance routine was created on the spot, on set. Senura is a dance teacher, as well as a model and actor, and we learnt the routine, in 10 minutes, before it was filmed.”

‘Nidahase’ means Freedom in English – about being free in life, love, expression and movement.

It’s, in fact, a reworked version of her highly successful English song ‘Free’ which was nominated for a Hollywood Music In Media award in the RNB/Soul category, and also reached the Top 20 of the Music Week Dance charts in the UK.

‘Nidahase’ can be heard on all streaming platforms, including Spotify, Apple Music and Amazon.

Senani’s YouTube channel is www.youtube.com/senanimusic

Her social media pages are: www.instagram.com/senanimusic and www.facebook.com/senanimusic. Her website is www.senani.com

For the record, Senani is the daughter of film actress Jeevarani Kurukulasuriya and Dr Lanka Wijesena.

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