Connect with us

Features

Octopus, Leech, and Snake: How Sri Lanka’s banks feast while the nation starves

Published

on

Open any business newspaper in Sri Lanka on any given weekend and the headlines read like a celebration. Bank A’s assets have crossed Rs. 3 trillion. Bank B has reached the Rs. 2 trillion asset milestone. Bank C has posted a profit after tax of Rs. 6 billion in the first quarter of 2026 alone. Bank E has reported a profit before tax of Rs. 2 billion. Bank E has cleared Rs. 1.5 billion in pre-tax profit. Bank F revealed a profit after tax of Rs. 4 billion. The numbers are staggering in a country where per capita income remains fragile, the economic crisis of 2022 has left deep scars, and some 300,000 small and medium entrepreneurs are reportedly at risk of losing the roofs over their heads, and their businesses.

So, the question must be asked, loudly and without apology: how do Sri Lankan banks manufacture such colossal profits, and who, precisely, is paying for them?

The arithmetic of extraction

The answer lies in a three-digit spread that most depositors and borrowers never see printed side by side. Sri Lanka’s Central Bank has held its Overnight Policy Rate (OPR) at 7.75%, the mid-point of a corridor bounded by a Standing Deposit Facility Rate of 7.25% and a Standing Lending Facility Rate of 8.25%; a policy spread of a mere 1%. This is the rate at which banks lend to and borrow from the Central Bank overnight. It is the peg around which monetary policy turns. What happens when that peg meets the market is another story altogether.

A depositor walking into a Sri Lankan bank today will be offered somewhere between 6% and 9% on a fixed deposit, the rate varying by tenure, bank, and whether you qualify as a “senior citizen.” Average savings account rates sit between 2% and 5%, while fixed deposits offer 6% to 10%. Yet, the same bank will charge that depositor’s neighbour, who runs a hardware shop, a garment workshop, or a small hotel, between 14% and 24% to borrow. Credit cards carry rates at the upper end or beyond that range. The arithmetic is unambiguous: an interest spread of 8 to 14 percentage points, engineered on top of a policy rate corridor of just 1%.

A key driver of lending interest rates is the lending-deposit interest spread, which captures the efficiency with which banks allocate society’s savings to its most productive uses. High lending rates and spreads pose a challenge for policymakers: they can affect monetary policy transmission, hinder private investment and job creation, inhibit financial development and inclusion, and can ultimately compromise financial stability.

Sri Lanka’s spreads fail every one of those tests.

An international comparison that should shame regulators

To understand the scale of this extraction, one need only look at comparable economies. In India, the Reserve Bank’s repo rate stands at 6.5%, and commercial bank lending rates to prime borrowers average around 9–11%, yielding a spread of roughly 3–4 percentage points. Thailand and Vietnam, both developing Asian economies with nominal policy rates in the 2–4% range — maintain bank lending-deposit spreads consistently below 5 percentage points. Many countries in East Asia had average spreads of 5% or less during the 2010–2017 period, including China, South Korea, Japan, Myanmar, Thailand, and Vietnam.

Nepal, whose financial system is frequently and condescendingly compared unfavourably to Sri Lanka’s, reported a bank lending rate of 7.66% in late 2025, a figure that would be considered a floor, not a ceiling, in Colombo. Bangladesh records a lending rate of under 8%. Even Pakistan, whose policy rate touched 22% during a period of acute macroeconomic crisis, has since brought it down sharply, and its spread has never structurally embedded itself at the levels Sri Lankan banks now consider normal.

Move to advanced economies and the contrast becomes almost surreal. Japan’s policy rate remains effectively at zero; bank lending rates for business borrowers sit between 1% and 2.5%. Australia’s Reserve Bank rate stands at 4.35%, with commercial lending to small businesses typically in the 6–8% range, a spread of 2–3 points at most. New Zealand, Canada, and the United States operate within similar parameters: policy-to-lending spreads that are measured in single digits and that tighten competitively as banking markets mature.

Sri Lanka’s banks, by contrast, operate as if competition does not exist, and as if SMEs have nowhere else to go. They are largely correct on both counts.

The three creatures: A taxonomy of bank behaviour

A financial analyst, speaking in a podcast that has circulated widely among the Sri Lankan business community, offered a metaphor that deserves wider currency. Sri Lankan banks, he argued, behave with a three-stage predatory logic.

First, they are the Octopus, embracing customers tightly, wrapping tentacles around every financial transaction, every salary account, every utility payment, every insurance product. The bank becomes indispensable. It is everywhere. Cross-selling, bundling, and lock-in are the tools of this phase. The small businessman who secures a loan quickly finds that his current account, his trade finance, his letter of credit, and his overdraft are all with the same institution. He is held, firmly, from all sides.

Then, once the embrace is complete, comes the Leech, the slow, persistent extraction of blood. The interest rate spread does its patient work over months and years. A loan taken at 18% for a business generating 12% returns is a slow death sentence, mathematically guaranteed. Fees compound on fees. Penal interest accrues on unpaid interest. The CRIB record, Sri Lanka’s Credit Information Bureau system, locks the borrower in place: miss a payment, and no other institution will touch you. The leech feeds undisturbed.

And then, when the blood runs dry, when the business can no longer service its debt and the collateral has been fully leveraged, comes the Snake. Sri Lanka’s Parate Execution Law, enacted under the Recovery of Loans by Banks (Special Provisions) Act No. 4 of 1990, gives licensed commercial banks a power possessed by almost no other creditor class in any comparable jurisdiction: the right to seize and auction mortgaged property without any court order, without any judicial oversight, and without any independent valuation requirement.

Parate Execution is deeply ingrained in Sri Lanka’s legal system and has been a crucial tool for banks in recovering debts. The Cabinet-of-Ministers’ approval for a temporary suspension until December 2024 reflects a response to economic challenges, particularly for small and medium-sized enterprises. In 2023 alone, over 1,750 properties belonging to SMEs were auctioned under the law. These were not abstract balance sheet entries. They were factories, workshops, warehouses, family homes pledged as collateral, and the accumulated savings of a lifetime. Around 10 SME associations are collectively pushing for the continued suspension of parate executions, warning that nearly 300,000 entrepreneurs risk losing their assets if the law is enforced without reforms.

The snake, once it strikes, leaves nothing.

The Gates Prediction and the clever adaptation

Bill Gates, in his 1997 book ‘Business at the Speed of Thought’, famously observed that banking is necessary but banks are not, that the dinosaur institutions of the financial world would be swept aside once the Internet captured the transaction infrastructure that sustains them. A quarter of a century later, the banks are still here, and in Sri Lanka they are more profitable than ever. Gates underestimated the octopus’s adaptability.

Sri Lankan banks did not resist digital disruption; they absorbed it and charged for it. Sri Lankan banks have a genuine claim to technological pioneering. They were among the earliest institutions in the world to deploy automated teller machines and some have argued that the island served as a live testing ground for ATM technology before the technology was ready for larger markets.

Internet banking reduced their branch costs while preserving their pricing power. Mobile apps deepened the lock-in. The spread, the core engine of extraction, was never threatened by technology because technology cannot dissolve a regulatory monopoly or a CRIB record. The dinosaur learned to code.

What did not adapt was the relationship between bank profit and productive economic activity. In a functioning market, high bank profitability should signal efficient intermediation, savings being channelled productively into investment, employment, and growth. In Sri Lanka, it signals the opposite: a structural transfer of income from the productive economy, particularly from small businesses, to the financial statements of financial institutions that operate with insufficient competitive pressure, inadequate regulatory oversight of pricing, and a legal recovery toolkit that would be considered extraordinary in almost any other jurisdiction.

The SME crisis: When the host dies

The damage falls most heavily on small and medium enterprises, the sector that, in Sri Lanka as in every economy in the world, provides between 60% and 80% of all employment and generates the majority of entrepreneurial activity outside the formal corporate sector.

The International Monetary Fund has called for the reinstatement of parate execution, warning that prolonged suspension hinders banks’ ability to manage non-performing loans and price credit risks, potentially destabilizing the financial system. The IMF’s concern is legitimate in principle but perverse in practice. Non-performing loans in Sri Lanka’s banking system did not emerge from borrower profligacy. They emerged from a combination of historically high interest rates, a catastrophic economic crisis that was itself partly the product of fiscal and monetary mismanagement, and a forced-sale recovery mechanism that, when applied during a downturn, a double blow, destroys the very collateral value it claims to protect. When 1,750 properties are auctioned in a single year, supply floods a distressed market and prices collapse, damaging the bank’s recovery as much as the borrower’s livelihood.

What must change

The case for structural reform is not a case against banking or against profitable financial institutions. It is a case against a system that has substituted regulatory capture for competitive discipline, and legal coercion for constructive engagement.

Three reforms are overdue and increasingly urgent

.

First, the interest rate spread must be subject to transparent regulatory oversight. The Central Bank publishes the Average Weighted Prime Lending Rate and related statistics, but there is no binding ceiling on the spread between what banks pay depositors and what they charge borrowers for equivalent-risk instruments.

Second, the Parate Execution Law requires comprehensive reform, a genuine rewriting that introduces judicial oversight, mandatory independent valuation, and a structured mediation requirement before any forced sale can proceed.

Third, SME credit must be deliberately repriced. A development banking framework, should offer structured SME lending at regulated spreads, with the Central Bank providing concessional refinancing. Several peer economies have such mechanisms. Sri Lanka has the institutional capacity to build one; what it has lacked is the political will to confront the banking lobby that benefits from the current architecture.

The parasite and the host

There is an ecological principle that even the most effective parasite must learn: if it kills the host, it dies, too. Sri Lanka’s banking sector has not yet killed its host economy, but the symptoms of dangerous over-extraction are visible in every gazette notice of a parate auction, in every shuttered workshop in Pettah, in every garment factory whose owner defaulted not due to bad management but due to the mathematics of an 18% loan in a 12% return environment.

The banks will continue to announce their trillion-rupee asset milestones and their billion-rupee profits. The newspapers will continue to celebrate. And the octopus will continue its embrace, the leech its quiet work, and the snake will wait, patient, unhurried, for the moment to strike. Unless someone intervenes.

(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker,is a professor at SLIIT, Malabe. Views expressed in this article are personal.)



Continue Reading
Advertisement
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Features

Tusker Kavantissa’s death exposes Sri Lanka’s wildlife conservation crisis

Published

on

Kavantissa

by Prof. Ranjith Bandara,
Emeritus Professor, University of Colombo

This article examines why community exclusion, excessive bureaucratic control, unequal distribution of conservation benefits, weak institutional accountability, and short-sighted political leadership continue to undermine wildlife conservation in Sri Lanka.

The death of Tusker Kavantissa is more than the loss of one of Sri Lanka’s most remarkable wild elephants. It exposes uncomfortable questions about how we protect our natural heritage, how conservation decisions are made, and why repeated warnings have failed to produce meaningful reforms. His death should compel us to examine not only what happened to one extraordinary animal, but also the deeper weaknesses in our wildlife conservation system.

Tusker Kavantissa, one of Sri Lanka’s most prominent wild tuskers, died on 16 October, 2026, after receiving veterinary treatment for an injury, reportedly caused by gunfire. Although the wound had shown some improvement, his health subsequently deteriorated. The precise cause of death requires confirmation through a proper post-mortem examination. Nevertheless, the circumstances raise serious questions about preventive protection, wildlife management, and institutional preparedness.

The wider picture is equally disturbing. According to recently reported figures, Sri Lanka has lost an average of approximately 402 elephants and 138 people annually, since 2019, due to human–elephant conflict. These figures reflect a continuing national tragedy affecting both wildlife and rural communities.

What Sri Lanka faces today is not merely a wildlife conservation problem. It is also a crisis of environmental governance, shaped by institutional weaknesses, political decisions, and the failure to recognise the economic and social realities of conservation.

Conservation without communities

One of the fundamental weaknesses of our conservation approach is that local communities are often treated as subjects of regulation rather than partners in conservation. They are expected to bear the risks, respect restrictions, and cooperate with government programmes, yet their influence over decisions affecting their lives remains limited.

For rural families living alongside wild elephants, conservation is not an abstract environmental objective. It directly affects their safety, agricultural income, property, and everyday lives.

Farmers frequently possess valuable knowledge about elephant movements, vulnerable locations, seasonal changes, and practical protection measures. Yet conservation interventions are sometimes designed without adequately considering this experience.

When decisions are imposed from above, communities may feel excluded from programmes they are expected to support. This weakens trust, reduces cooperation, and ultimately undermines conservation outcomes.

We must recognise that protecting elephants and protecting farmers are not conflicting objectives. Both are essential. A conservation policy that safeguards wildlife while neglecting human security cannot be considered successful.

The real challenge is to replace conservation imposed on communities with conservation undertaken alongside them. Meaningful participation requires more than consultation meetings. Communities must have a genuine role in planning, implementing, monitoring, and evaluating conservation activities.

Bureaucratic authority versus public accountability

Wildlife conservation requires strong institutions, professional expertise, and effective regulations. However, excessive bureaucratic control can become an obstacle when administrative authority takes precedence over practical outcomes.

Decision-making in Sri Lanka’s conservation system remains heavily dependent on central institutions. Administrative procedures, overlapping responsibilities, and limited coordination can delay responses to urgent problems.

More importantly, excessive centralisation can discourage local innovation and prevent communities from contributing practical solutions.

When administrative authority becomes more important than results, conservation risks becoming an exercise in controlling people rather than protecting nature.

This criticism should not be confused with questioning the dedication of frontline wildlife officers and veterinarians. Many work under difficult conditions with limited resources. The efforts undertaken to save Tusker Kavantissa deserve recognition.

However, individual commitment cannot compensate indefinitely for institutional weaknesses.

We must ask whether our conservation institutions have the capacity to identify risks early, protect vulnerable animals, coordinate emergency responses, and evaluate the effectiveness of their interventions.

Public accountability should, therefore, extend beyond compliance with administrative procedures to measurable conservation outcomes.

Who bears costs, and who receives benefits?

Perhaps the most neglected dimension of wildlife conservation in Sri Lanka is the unequal distribution of its economic costs and benefits.

Wild elephants contribute substantially to tourism, biodiversity, cultural heritage, and the country’s international image. Their conservation generates benefits enjoyed by society as a whole.

Yet the financial and personal costs are concentrated among rural communities living within elephant habitats.

A study published in 2023, involving 300 farming households in southern Sri Lanka, revealed a striking imbalance. Although these households lived near two national parks, none received economic benefits from tourism. Meanwhile, 57 percent had experienced elephant-related crop damage.

The findings raise a fundamental economic question: if the entire country benefits from elephant conservation, why should a relatively small and vulnerable section of society bear a disproportionate share of its costs?

Conservation cannot remain economically sustainable when its benefits are widely enjoyed but its costs are concentrated among those least able to bear them.

A separate study, published in 2024, involving 439 affected farming households, examined the possibility of financing compensation through tourism revenue. It demonstrated the potential for tourism-based financial mechanisms to support human–elephant coexistence.

The policy implications are significant

A proportion of wildlife tourism revenue could be directed towards affected communities through transparent benefit-sharing arrangements. Such measures could support compensation, village protection, local employment, community enterprises, and agricultural improvements.

However, financial compensation alone is insufficient. The 2023 study also indicated that fear of elephants and concerns about crop damage strongly influenced community attitudes. People must feel safe in their homes and farms, not merely receive payment after suffering losses.

Equitable benefit-sharing is, therefore, more than an act of generosity. It is an economic and social requirement for sustainable conservation.

Political decisions and absence of long-term vision

The weaknesses in wildlife conservation cannot be attributed solely to public officials. Political leadership must accept its share of responsibility.

Poor land-use planning, habitat fragmentation, obstruction of elephant movement corridors, and development decisions that inadequately consider environmental consequences have contributed to human–elephant conflict.

Political decisions made for immediate gains can create environmental and economic costs lasting for decades.

Another weakness is the preference for visible, short-term interventions.

Constructing electric fences, relocating elephants, and launching emergency operations can attract considerable publicity. However, such interventions should be evaluated according to their effectiveness, not their visibility.

Political leadership should be judged not by the number of conservation programmes announced, but by the lives protected, conflicts prevented, and long-term improvements achieved.

There is also a serious problem of policy continuity. Conservation cannot be governed according to electoral cycles or changing political priorities.

Elephant habitats, migration patterns, and ecological processes do not change with governments. Successful conservation, therefore, requires consistent national commitments extending beyond individual political administrations.

Without such continuity, public investment may be wasted while the underlying problems remain unresolved.

Problem is not always a lack of policy

Sri Lanka’s conservation crisis cannot be explained simply by a shortage of scientific knowledge or policy recommendations.

In many instances, the greater challenge lies in translating available knowledge into coordinated, adequately funded, and politically supported action.

The National Action Plan for the Mitigation of Human–Elephant Conflict, prepared in 2020, proposed a science-based approach that emphasised community participation, protection of villages and agricultural land, and more effective conflict-management strategies.

Yet an important question remains: how much of this plan has been implemented successfully?

Have implementation difficulties arisen from inadequate resources, weak institutional coordination, administrative resistance, or insufficient political commitment?

An independent assessment of the plan’s implementation would help identify these obstacles and establish clear responsibilities.

We must also recognise that a substantial proportion of Sri Lanka’s wild elephants live outside protected areas. Attempting to confine all elephants within national parks and forest reserves is, therefore, neither realistic nor sustainable.

Effective conservation requires land-use policies informed by elephant ecology, settlement patterns, agricultural needs, and the practical realities of human–wildlife coexistence.

A sound policy that remains largely unimplemented offers little protection to either elephants or people.

Towards more responsible conservation system

Sri Lanka needs a fundamental change in how wildlife conservation is governed.

Four priorities deserve immediate attention.

First, local communities must become genuine partners in conservation management, with meaningful responsibilities and decision-making opportunities.

Second, conservation benefits must be distributed more fairly. Wildlife tourism should contribute directly to protecting the livelihoods and safety of communities that bear conservation costs.

Third, existing national conservation plans should be independently reviewed to identify implementation gaps and establish a realistic timetable for corrective action.

Fourth, conservation institutions must become more accountable for measurable outcomes, including reductions in human deaths, elephant mortality, crop losses, and property damage.

These reforms require cooperation among wildlife, forestry, agriculture, land, irrigation, and local government institutions.

They also demand political leadership willing to prioritise long-term results over short-term publicity.

For exceptional animals, such as Tusker Kavantissa, improved risk monitoring, preventive protection, and timely veterinary responses are particularly important. However, conservation should not be limited to protecting a few well-known animals.

Every wild elephant has ecological value, just as every person living alongside elephants has an equal right to safety.

The objective must be a system that protects both.

Lesson tusker Kavantissa leaves behind

The death of Tusker Kavantissa should not become another moment of national sorrow that gradually fades from public memory. It should mark a turning point in how Sri Lanka approaches wildlife conservation.

A proper investigation into his death is essential. Equally important is an honest examination of the conservation system within which such tragedies continue to occur.

The real challenge is not choosing between people and elephants. It is creating a system in which both can coexist safely, and where the responsibilities, costs, and benefits of conservation are shared fairly.

This requires more than scientific expertise and stronger regulations. It demands accountable institutions, meaningful community participation, economic fairness, and political leadership guided by a clear long-term vision.

Our greatest failure would not be the loss of Tusker Kavantissa alone. It would be allowing the same weaknesses in our conservation system to claim more lives while we continue to avoid the reforms that could prevent them.

Continue Reading

Features

Equality before the Law as foundation of Sri Lanka’s recovery

Published

on

Gnanasara Thera brought to court, dressed in lay attire

by Jehan Perera

The government appears set to overcome the first major challenge to one of its foundational principles. It has faced down demands from sections of the Buddhist clergy and opposition parties to release Ven. Galagodaatte Gnanasara from his prison sentence for contempt of court.

Ven Gnanasara is best known as the general secretary of the Bodu Bala Sena, a nationalist Sinhala grouping. The government seemed unfazed by a protest march organised by Buddhist monks and the opposition parties and its supporters organised an even bigger march to support the government’s position. It is notable that the general population did not get involved in either march in any substantial number. The issue has now become a test of whether the government will uphold its commitment to apply the law equally, irrespective of a person’s position or status, even when doing so brings it into conflict with a powerful constituency.

The case has a specific legal history. Ven. Gnanasara was sentenced to six years’ imprisonment by the Court of Appeal in 2018 for contempt of court in a case involving former military personnel where he disrupted the proceedings. The Supreme Court rejected his appeal in 2018. Former President Maithripala Sirisena subsequently granted him a presidential pardon in 2019. Last month, the Supreme Court invalidated that pardon. The initial demand by Buddhist monks and their lay supporters was that Ven. Gnanasara should be permitted to wear his Buddhist robes when appearing in public before the courts. The government has indicated its willingness to examine the procedures governing the treatment of Buddhist monks in prison, in consultation with the relevant religious authorities. However, the initial demand has now been escalated into a demand for a presidential pardon.

One of the central promises of the National People’s Power (NPP) during its election campaign two years ago was to apply the law equally to all. This commitment has shaped the government’s approach to allegations of corruption and criminality involving individuals who previously wielded political power. The NPP government was swept into power on a wave of antipathy towards those in previous governments who were perceived to have abused their positions for private gain. The economic collapse Sri Lanka experienced in 2022, and the hardships endured across society, remain vivid in the public memory. The past two years have seen the government pursuing those accused of corruption and other offences. Several high-ranking members of previous governments have faced arrest and legal proceedings and been sentenced to jail.

Religious Concerns

The ability of opposition parties to mobilise widespread resistance against proceedings involving their leaders has been limited, as much of the general population continues to favour accountability for past financial crimes. However, the case of Ven. Gnanasara is different. It does not concern allegations of financial corruption, but the relationship between religious authority, the courts and the law of the land. This is where the distinction between respecting religious traditions and upholding the law becomes crucial. There is a sense among sections of the general population that Buddhist monks should not be treated on a par with others and that requiring Ven. Gnanasara to appear in court without his robes was unjust and contrary to the national ethos. Such sentiments reflect the special place Buddhism occupies in Sri Lanka’s history and society. Sinhala Buddhist nationalism has been a potent political force throughout the country’s history, drawing on a heritage that extends back more than two millennia. The question is whether respect for Buddhism needs to also entail the exemption of individual monks from the ordinary requirements of the law and thereby treat them differently.

The challenge would be to accommodate legitimate religious concerns through rational and lawful procedures without allowing religious status to become a source of legal privilege. The government has been amenable to addressing the issue of monastic robes, but has so far resisted the demand to release Ven. Gnanasara through a new pardon. President Anura Kumara Dissanayake and government members have made it clear that the government would not bend the law to accommodate any individual. They have taken the position that any shortcomings in existing rules should be addressed by changing the rules through proper procedures, rather than by making an exception for a particular individual. If the government holds its position, it will demonstrate that its commitment to the rule of law extends even to constituencies that have historically enjoyed considerable political influence.

This is important not only for the country’s democratic institutions but also for its economic future. Sri Lanka is seeking to recover from its economic collapse and establish the foundations for sustained growth. The International Monetary Fund’s analysis of Sri Lanka’s governance weaknesses has repeatedly emphasised the economic costs of corruption and institutional deficiencies. Its 2024 analysis of governance and growth concluded that comprehensive and coherent reforms could bring significant macroeconomic benefits. The IMF’s 2025 assessment also highlighted the importance of sustained governance reforms in unlocking the country’s growth potential. Investors, both domestic and foreign, need confidence that public institutions function according to predictable rules, that contracts and property rights are protected, and that political connections or social status will not determine how the law is applied.

Sensitive Issue

Sri Lanka has long sought the leap towards prosperity that has proved elusive under successive governments. Economic reform alone will not achieve it. The connection between the rule of law and economic prosperity is direct. Businesses are more likely to invest when they can expect disputes to be resolved fairly, public resources to be managed transparently and regulatory decisions to be made on rational grounds. No country can achieve a durable economic take-off if its institutions are perceived to operate according to political favour, inherited privilege or communal pressure. Sri Lanka cannot afford to return to a political culture in which powerful interests are shielded from accountability while ordinary citizens bear the costs.

Changing a political culture that has evolved over the decades if not centuries is a difficult undertaking, particularly in a country where political leaders have long relied on religious and communal identities to consolidate their support. It requires not only firmness but also sensitivity, dialogue and a willingness to reform laws and institutions where genuine deficiencies exist. The present controversy offers an opportunity to demonstrate that these objectives need not be in conflict. The government can respect the Buddhist clergy’s concerns about the treatment of monks in prison while refusing to grant an individual an exemption from a judicial sentence. It can recognise the importance of Buddhism to the country while maintaining that no religious or political authority stands above the law.

The question is whether national traditions and ethos are interpreted in ways that strengthen justice, responsibility and social harmony, or invoked to defend privileges that undermine them. The country needs a transformation in public expectations from privilege to accountability, from communal claims to equal citizenship, and from personal discretion to institutions governed by law.

The government’s handling of the case involving Ven. Gnanasara is therefore about more than one monk or one sentence. This particular case will determine whether the government can build a system in which no government, religious authority or politically influential individuals can place themselves beyond the law. A just society must be able to honour both its traditions and its commitment to equality before the law.

Continue Reading

Features

Lure of old hometown too hard to resist

Published

on

Highly adaptive one-man band / At Broadway Dehiwela on 24th October

Lanka was his homeland, and now it’s Australia, based in Sydney. But for legendary performer Roger Menezes, the lure of his old hometown is just too hard to resist — and he keeps coming this way, ever so often!

Roger is in town at the moment — his fourth trip for this year alone! In fact, for the last few years, he has been checking out Sri Lanka on a very frequent basis.

This time, he says, he will be here for just two weeks, as he has heavy commitments, Down Under, as a performer.

On the 24th of this month, he will be seen in action at Broadway Dehiwela, celebrating their second anniversary. It’s a homecoming of sorts, as he was the very first artiste to perform live at this venue, on their opening night!

He goes back to Sydney in November for an early Christmas party, and will be back, in Colombo, in December, for more performances, with a pre-New Year’s Eve party at the Broadway, on 30th December.

Roger says he also takes the opportunity, whenever he visits Sri Lanka, to soak in the beauty of our country, especially the serene scenes away from the hustle and bustle of Colombo!

Roger Menezes: Fourth trip for this year

Roger Menezes is truly a remarkable talent, and it is always a sheer pleasure to look into the careers of musicians who have left such a lasting, indelible mark on Sri Lanka’s rich musical heritage.

Known for his signature “hits and memories” performance style — a nostalgic, heart-warming blend of jazz, pop, and classic rock — he remains a foundational figure of Sri Lanka’s golden era of music.

He was deeply integrated into Colombo’s swinging 1960s and 70s music scene.

He played drums for iconic groups like The Savages, Thunderbirds, and Fireflies, played guitar for Sam the Man, and joined the legendary band The Jetliners as their keyboardist, saxophonist, and guitarist (additionally recording bass guitar tracks). He also fronted his own much-loved ensemble, Roger and the Webs.

He migrated to Sydney, Australia, in the early ’70s and the legend only grew.

In Australia, he founded the highly successful corporate and event bands Eastern Spice and Stay Tuned (alongside his wife Cheryl and family). Under his leadership, Stay Tuned was heavily involved in providing entertainment for corporate functions, organised by the Sydney 2000 Olympic Committee. The group also headlined the New Year’s Eve festivities at Sydney’s iconic Centrepoint Tower for five consecutive years!

Today, he is widely celebrated as a highly adaptive one-man band, simultaneously navigating vocals, keyboards, guitar, saxophone, and drums — a one-man orchestra who truly does it all!

Continue Reading

Trending