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Ranasinghe Premadasa Birth Centenary – An evergreen leader

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Former Prime Minister and President Ranasinghe Premadasa

By Tisaranee Gunasekera

“All theory is grey… But forever green is the tree of life. “Goethe (Faust)

For three months in late 1990’s, American author and political activist Barbara Ehrenreich lived the life of a low-wage worker. She wanted to discover, first hand, how President Bill Clinton’s welfare reforms were impacting on the lives of the working poor. Her experiences gave birth to her most celebrated book, Nickle and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America. In it, she focuses on the phenomenon of employed-homeless, workers who often do more than one job but are still unable to afford a roof over their heads. The conjunction of low wages and high rents create poverty traps from which few workers escape, Ehrenreich notes.

Almost 20 years later, sociologist Matthew Desmond in his book, Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City, demonstrated the cardinal role played by housing (or the lack of it) in perpetuating and exacerbating poverty in America. “Fewer and fewer families can afford a roof over their head. This is among the most urgent and pressing issues facing America today… We have failed to fully appreciate how deeply housing is implicated in the creation of poverty.”

According to Jan-Feb 2024 Household Pulse Survey, homelessness in America increased by 48% since 2015; and an estimated 37% of tenants say they are very or somewhat likely to be evicted in the next two months. The European condition is no better. “Unaffordable rent and property prices are turning into a political battleground,” The Guardian warned in May. The only exception is Vienna. 60% of Viennese live in subsidised housing. The city builds 6,000-7,000 subsidised housing units each year funded by a 1% tax on all salaries.

The Viennese exception is a legacy of Red Vienna (1918-1934 – when the Austrian capital was controlled by the Social Democratic Party) which was defined largely by its housing policy; the city built more than 60,000 new housing units. Sri Lanka, in 1979, embarked on a journey even more ambitious, to build 100,000 houses in three years. When Ranasinghe Premadasa unveiled his inaugural housing programme, it was ridiculed by the Opposition, stonewalled by the UNP cabinet, and criticised by the World Bank and the IMF. The mere thought of building 100,000 housing units in three years, and for the poor, was dismissed as a waste, an inflation-creator, and delusional.

But Premadasa would not be stopped. Like other top leaders of the UNP, he was eyeing the presidency and housing was going to be his ‘qualifier’ for the top job. Those politico-electoral imperatives apart, he understood the nexus between homelessness and politico-social and familial stability. During his tenure as a Colombo Municipal Councillor, he had spearheaded the building of flats in Saunders Place as part of a slum-clearance programme. As the Junior Minister of Housing in the 1965-70 government, he had built the Maligawatte Housing Scheme. As he put it, “Shelter is not charity. It is a necessity.”

Born and bred in Keselwatte, Sri Lanka’s equivalent of the old Harlem, Premadasa knew well the bitter anger and despair of the marginalised. Homelessness was a time-bomb waiting to explode, he understood, especially in the context of the rapid but unbalanced growth which resulted from the opening up of the economy after 1977. He regarded housing as a major stabiliser, a way of giving the poor a stake in the system.

Idealism and Realism

According to the UN special rapporteur on the right to adequate housing, homelessness is the ‘social issue of the 21st Century’. The seeds of this burgeoning crisis was sown in the final decades of the 20th Century, with the political de-prioritisation of the issue of housing/homelessness. The category of ‘structural homelessness’ came into being, an ipso facto justification of political indifference and policy neglect. Shelter was left to the vagaries of individual fortunes and the free play of market forces. Homeless encampments became the norm, eviction a super-profitable business.

The Lankan experiment under the leadership of Premadasa in battling homelessness was doubly remarkable because it unfolded against this background of global indifference. And, contrary to the confident predictions of naysayers on the left and the right, the 100,000 Houses Programme worked. “The targets were reached and exceeded by anything between 15%-30% – an unparalleled success in a government Housing Programme in a Third World Country,” wrote Prof KM de Silva. (Sri Lanka and the International Year of Shelter for the Homeless). According to a report by the United Nation’s Economic and Social Commission for Asia and the Pacific, “The programme proved to be a success in terms of…target achievement, employment generation through the development of construction industry, and the ‘benign’ effect in the rental market” (Low cost shelter project in Sri Lanka – ESCAP). “Shelter (is) a field in which idealism and realism can blend to the advantage of all,” Premadasa had stated in his 1987 speech to the International Union of Architects. His programme, with its broad vision and hard practicality, certainly fitted the bill.

While 100,000 Houses programme was a success in target-achievement, it also revealed the limits of state as house-builder, especially in a rural setting. It was also too costly and too centralised. These lessons were incorporated into the next stage of the Housing adventure – the One Million Houses programme launched in 1984. Unlike the top-down method of the first phase, the second and third phases (1.5Milliion Houses programme) opted for a participatory model, involving beneficiaries at every stage of the process from planning to construction. The state’s role scaled down to that of assister.

“What we see here is a kind of respect for the poor and their abilities and capacities, or the trust that, if they are given some guidance and resources, they will be able to understand their own needs and respond to their housing needs in a better way…” Colombo Urban Lab researcher Meghal Perera told a regional seminar on shelter in 2022. “First of all, the state allowed the people to design their own houses. There are stories of how every single household in this programme was given a file about the loans they could obtain. They were also given a square rule paper for them to design their own houses in the way they wanted. Secondly, there were community building guidelines and rules specific to particular low-income settlements… This programme called for conversations and workshops where women were able to talk about matters…” (The Morning – 14.10.2022).

According to an island-wide research project carried out by the Premadasa Centre in the mid 1990’s, 34.2% of the recipients of the housing programmes were workers, 22.6% were labourers, 18.2% were cultivators, 9.2% were petty traders, 11.8% were self-employed or salaried employees. Low-wage earners who wouldn’t have been able to afford a house of their own, perhaps ever; employed-homeless turned into homeowners.

“For the last thirty years…when asking ourselves whether we support a proposal or initiative, we have not asked, is it good or bad?” historian Tony Judt wrote. “Instead we inquire: Is it efficient? Is it productive? Would it benefit gross domestic product? Will it contribute to growth? This propensity to avoid moral considerations, to restrict ourselves to issues of profit and loss—economic questions in the narrowest sense—is not an instinctive human condition. It is an acquired taste” (London Review of Books – 17.12.2009).

Ranasinghe Premadasa’s approach to development was conspicuous by the absence of such a purely economistic approach and the conscious incorporation of peoples’ interests as a primary measure of the desirability or undesirability of an economic policy. For Premadasa poverty was not just an economic problem to alleviate, a matter of numbers and percentages. He could look beyond the figures and see the people because he grew up among them, and continued to live with them even as president. Inside the Sucharitha Complex where he lived, there was even a school for the children of the area. Free of any theoretical bondage or ideological baggage, Premadasa was able to mix-and-match, discarding what didn’t work and bettering what did.

As Sirisena Cooray, his political companion and friend of four decades, wrote, “Mr. Premadasa had his own very different approach to developmental issues; his notion of slum clearance is an example of this. Usually slum clearance means the forcible eviction of the people living in slums to areas outside the city and developing these city locations for commercial purposes… This is both a political mistake and a human tragedy. Most of those people would have been living in that area for a long time. They work close by; their children go to nearby schools. If you uproot them from that environment and put them elsewhere they feel alienated; their work, education, and social life get disrupted. What Mr. Premadasa meant by slum clearance was improving the quality of life of slum dwellers by providing them with better housing and other basic facilities” (President Premadasa and I: Our Story).

A necessary aside: Grabbing these commercially valuable land by expelling the residents into the outskirts of the city was a key component of Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s Colombo Metropolitan Corporation plan. “The government is to demolish housing schemes constructed by former President Ranasinghe Premadasa, officials said,” (The Sunday Leader – 25.9.2011). The Supreme Court’s decision against the Sacred Areas Act compelled the abandonment of this plan. But the Rajapaksas were able to nullify another Premadasa initiative: making public sector recruitment mandatory on competitive exams – a recommendation of the Youth Commission of 1989. In 2007, Mahinda Rajapaksa issued a circular restoring recruitment via political patronage. When the JVP objected, Rajapaksa reportedly told them to provide their own lists (Lakbima News – 9.9.2007).

Radical in conception; conciliatory in implementation

There is a global tradition of developmental programmes which are (in the words of Amartya Sen) ‘good and just’. These are radical in intent but non-confrontational in style and regard economic strategy as a series of compromises balancing the interests of diverse socio-economic groups, for a common good. The Premadasa development projects belong in this category, expansive, yet grounded.

The 200 Garment Factories Programme was perhaps the best case in point. It amounted to a radical departure from the national and global norm of herding low-paid workers into specialised zones. Instead, entrepreneurs were encouraged – via loans and garment quotas – to set up factories in places where unemployment and poverty were rife. The state acted not as owner but as facilitator. The factories had to be new constructions, employ a minimum of 500 workers, pay a minimum wage of Rs 2000 plus meals, medical facilities etc. The success of the 200 Garment Factories Programme demonstrated that export-oriented and labour-friendly industrialisation was eminently possibly. An infamously exploitative industry (with sweatshop-type working-conditions) was transformed into its opposite, not through compulsion (let alone expropriation) but through persuasion (incentives). Development miracles are made on earth, via visions uncircumscribed by labels and political will.

Sirisena Cooray writes how in the at the Kataragama Gam Udawa, Premadasa built a common Buddhist-Hindu-Christian-Islamic place of worship symbolic of the ethno-religiously pluralist nature of Sri Lanka. “It was an interesting concept – you would come in together through a single entrance, branch out to go to different places of worship and once again gather together to go out. But the Buddhist monks opposed it; they did not like the idea” (President Premadasa and I: Our Story). It was another of Premadasa’s dream, a country where primordial differences would not lead to bloody divisions. “Sri Lanka has always had many ethnic groups, many religions and many social traditions… The history or the future of Sri Lanka does not belong to any group,” he said in 1990 and meant it. Lasting unity – be it national or social – could be built only by effecting tangible improvements in the living-conditions of all the poor, Sinhala, Tamil, and Muslim.

Giving everyone something to lose was the only true guarantee against societal violence and systemic instability, Premadasa believed. The rich and the poor, the majority and the minorities, all must be made to understand their need of and vulnerability to each other. In the urban housing schemes Premadasa built, flats were allocated via a pluralist policy. Every apartment block was representative of the larger Lankan nation, with Sinhala, Tamil and Muslim householders. During Black July, Colombo North and Central were spared the worst of violence thanks to this foresight. You could not set fire to your Tamil neighbour’s house without imperilling your own, not in some distant future, but in the next few minutes. Gulfs could be bridged most effectively not by stirring slogans or pious utterings, but by tangible acts: shelter, employment, a leg-up out of poverty. The old Premadasa programme may not be replicable in the new times, but his innovative approach remains timeless; and indispensable.

 

 

 



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Addressing human rights needs multi-pronged approach

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Volker Türk

by Jehan Perera

The ongoing 63rd session of the United Nations Human Rights Council, which runs from September 7 to October 7, 2026, in Geneva is important to Sri Lanka. Its outcome will send a signal to other international actors, including the European Union, as to whether Sri Lanka’s reform policy is on track. The written update on Sri Lanka, prepared by the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights under High Commissioner Volker Türk and presented by Deputy High Commissioner Nada Al-Nashif, has taken a more holistic approach to the government’s performance over the past year. It acknowledged the progress Sri Lanka has made under the NPP government in relation to accountability for financial fraud and other economic crimes. At the same time, the High Commissioner’s update made clear that progress in relation to economic crime cannot be equated with progress in relation to accountability for grave human rights violations committed during the armed conflict and in other periods of political violence.

The government may have felt sufficiently confident that its response to the High Commissioner’s update could be handled by its representative in Geneva and did not require the attendance of Foreign Minister Vijitha Herath. Sri Lanka’s representative Sumith Dassanayake called for a fundamental review of country-specific mandates within the UN Human Rights Council. Sri Lanka has been facing repeated scrutiny in the form of successive UNHRC resolutions from 2012 onwards. Ambassador Dassanayake argued that such mandates should not continue indefinitely and must be regularly assessed against measurable objectives and tangible outcomes. This may reflect confidence that its record of reform is beginning to receive recognition internationally. The reports and statements at the Human Rights Council acknowledged progress in the government’s efforts to address corruption and economic crime.

The government’s anti-corruption drive has included investigations into allegations involving individuals who held the highest political offices in the country. The arrest of former President Ranil Wickremesinghe in connection with alleged misuse of public funds, and the investigation into the controversial SriLankan Airlines Airbus transaction involving former President Mahinda Rajapaksa’s son, are examples of the reach of these investigations. The arrest of SLPP National Organiser and Member of Parliament Namal Rajapaksa in connection with allegations relating to the Airbus purchase scandal has also demonstrated that the government is willing to pursue cases involving politically powerful figures.

Wide Range

The ongoing investigations appear to encompass a wide range of parliamentarians and government members, both past and present. They suggest that accountability for corruption is not being confined to lower-level officials or to individuals who lack political influence. This is precisely the kind of accountability that the public has long demanded and that previous governments have too often failed to deliver. The government is also reaching into the upper levels of the military hierarchies of the past. The case in which 11 young men, most of them Tamil, disappeared after being abducted in Colombo between 2008 and 2009 involved allegations that some families were asked to pay ransoms. The investigation into this case has reached senior military figures. The willingness to pursue such cases is important because it challenges the assumption that those who exercised power during the war are beyond the reach of the law. Such cases would provide a practical test of whether the government’s commitment to accountability for economic crimes is part of a broader commitment to the rule of law.

Success in prosecuting corruption cannot substitute for justice for those who were unlawfully killed, disappeared, tortured or otherwise victimised. The UN report noted that there had been no recognition or accountability for crimes under international law, gross human rights violations and serious violations of international humanitarian law committed by all parties during the war. The government has yet to establish a credible and effective process to address the many cases of enforced disappearance, extrajudicial killing, torture and other serious violations. The government needs to take the international commitments it has inherited on human rights issues seriously. It needs to adopt a multi-pronged approach and go beyond focusing primarily on financial and corruption-related accountability.

Need Action

As a member of the international community, Sri Lanka has a responsibility to abide by the commitments it has made. It cannot selectively uphold international obligations postponing those that are politically difficult. Also, as a small country, Sri Lanka has a self-interest in ensuring the survival of international law, which is all that it has to protect it from the depredations of the bigger international actors. The erosion of international law by powerful states makes it all the more important that smaller states uphold the principles on which the international system is based. Sri Lanka cannot credibly appeal to international law when it is threatened from outside while disregarding its own obligations within. Sri Lanka also needs to win the confidence of its own population that it is committed to justice and equality for all. Public opinion polls and community-level research have disclosed that ethnic and religious minorities are appreciative of the sense of greater security they enjoy under the present government from ethnic or religious extremists.

But a sense of security is not the same as the fulfilment of rights. As far as the Tamil people are concerned, the government has yet to deliver on several of its specific promises. These include the long-standing problems of missing persons, the release of political prisoners who have been members of Tamil militant organisations, and the return of land taken over for military purposes during the war. The issue of Buddhist statues and archaeological sites found on their properties which are then taken from their control continue to trouble them especially as they see no signs of resolution of those disputes. The issue of pastureland in the east of the country in Mylathamadu is particularly concerning to them as they see orders by successive presidents, both President Ranil Wickremesinghe and President Anura Kumara Dissanayake, being disregarded on the ground. The Mylathamadu pastureland dispute is where traditional Tamil dairy farmers have engaged in multi-year protests against the ongoing encroachment of their ancestral grazing lands by Sinhalese crop cultivators relocated under government development schemes.

The government’s failure to hold Provincial Council elections is particularly troubling. The provincial council system is the only one that can provide the Tamil people and other ethnic minorities the opportunity to wield political power and exercise a measure of self-determination in the areas in which they are the numerical majority. The continued postponement of Provincial Council elections therefore has consequences that go beyond an ordinary electoral delay. It deprives communities of an important constitutional avenue for democratic participation and power-sharing. The ethnic and religious minorities appreciate what the government is doing in the larger national interest, but they must not be made to feel that their special concerns are being ignored. The government cannot resolve Sri Lanka’s entire legacy of rights violations overnight. But it does need to demonstrate that it is willing to move forward on multiple fronts, not only on a few.

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The emptying university: why are academics leaving?

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by Hasini Lecamwasam

Brain drain in Sri Lanka is at an all-time high. The latest Human Flight and Brain Drain Index for 2024 shows that we are 16th of 175 countries on this count, and first in South Asia. That this is a crisis goes without saying. Brain drain affects all sectors, and is a huge strain on the resources of a developing country. Particularly in Sri Lanka, where considerable public investment is made in the moulding of professionals through the system of free education, this amounts to transferring the resources of poorer countries to richer ones with top migration destinations. It is, therefore, important to consider the push and pull factors behind skilled outmigration, specifically from the public university system of Sri Lanka, a key focus of the Kuppi column.

From frustration to exit

Several bitter realities in our crumbling public university system act as push factors in the migration decisions of academics. Many essays on this column have, over several years, attempted to highlight numerous aspects of this erosion. Perhaps, primary among them is the lack of adequate funding, which has debilitating ramifications for the system: very little investment is made in the up-keep of infrastructure (and even less in its expansion), resulting in serious constraints in accommodating growing batches of students and the wellbeing of the staff (particularly in regional universities); research funding is negligible, severely curtailing academics’ ability to effectively discharge their primary duty of teaching which should ideally be informed by their research (and the research of others, access to which is also, unfortunately, mediated by funding); a funding crunch also means a slash in (or greater constraints on) recruitments, increasing the workloads of academics, currently in service, and eating into the quality of their teaching and research.

What recruitments are done frustrate those with any faith in merit. As many of our interventions in this column have shown, recruitment processes are characterised by archaic selection criteria that place very little weight on a candidate’s postgraduate growth and the advantages of interdisciplinary training. Added to this is the general preference for ‘culturally compliant’ candidates who would not rock the boat too much. The combined effect is that those with the capacity and spirit to try out innovations in education are discouraged from joining or staying on in the public university system. Some, or many, of them may instead seek appointments abroad.

A thread that binds all of these problems together is pervasive hierarchy which, again, many interventions on this column have sought to highlight. It is the interest in preserving hierarchy that leads to the preference for alumni in recruitment processes. Hierarchy within universities can be particularly frustrating for younger faculty and women, who typically have to bear the brunt of the workload of their senior, often male, colleagues. In a context of funding, and, therefore, recruitment, restrictions, this translates into a disproportionate burden being placed on junior (usually female) faculty, seriously hindering their prospects of growing into successful academics due to the time constraints within which they have to operate. Junior academics, therefore, are more likely to look to educational institutions abroad for what they hope would be a different work culture that respects them more.

Ideological ruses

On top of these structural frustrations are also the workings of neoliberal ideology. For one, the nature of relations between the global metropole and peripheral countries like Sri Lanka largely dictates what is desirable and what is not. The apparent lifestyles of Western countries – from food to clothing, housing, appliances, and so on – have continued to lure people from the periphery with the promise of a ‘better’ life, alongside better career advancement opportunities. This, of course, masks much of the struggle that goes on behind the scenes to survive in Western societies. For instance, in most cases highly attractive public infrastructure such as roads, public transport, clean air, quality control of food, and so on belie the astronomical privatised costs of healthcare and education. Health insurance is usually mandatory and steep in most high-income settings, while even subsidised education (for which eligibility criteria are strict) creates a serious dent in household earnings. Of course, the happy images of glossy trams and gleeful international travellers don’t convey this.

A second ideological ruse is the myth of greater opportunities and recognition abroad. While there is no denying that local skilled sectors – be it higher education, health, civil service, or private white-collar positions – are replete with issues that inhibit merit-based professional advancement, the notion that things are fundamentally different in Western countries stems from an uninformed optimism. As is now increasingly known and discussed, Western labour markets are notoriously racialised, and equivalent skills are rarely treated as such. Instead, it is usually demanded that skilled migrants clear certain formal examinations in their host countries. In fields like medicine, this is followed by an interview that may also be racially prejudiced. Once these initial steps are cleared, remuneration reverts to square one irrespective of experience accumulated abroad, not to mention the many subtle aggressions, rejections, and trials one has to go through in the negotiation of everyday life. In the many cases where professional qualifications are used as leverage for a move abroad, sights are set on a better future for one’s children, which again is informed by the misplaced faith in greater opportunities and a lack of awareness of the factors outlined above. Needless to say, in the global swing to the Right, things have become even more challenging. In such a context, considering the few rare cases where skilled migrants live extremely comfortable lives as the norm becomes a dangerous misconception.

The two ideological pull factors mentioned above are complemented by a push factor, which has to do with a highly classed understanding of what a white-collar professional is due in their society. Many of these aspirations are clearly articulated in academic trade union action demanding separate quotas for school entry, increased fuel allowances, winning back the presently stalled vehicle permit scheme, salary hikes, and so on. While working people have every right to agitate for better material conditions, insofar as it remains unconnected to a broader movement for improving the conditions of the lot of the working class, it remains self-serving and very much within the class logic of capitalist society. Since these demands are articulated as a means of maintaining distinction, it is clear that they are not envisaged as part of a class movement. The frustration of not having these needs for distinction satisfied may push some to seek greener pastures abroad, at least financially, (perhaps as a means of social mobility based on it), only to be disappointed on most occasions.

What is to be done?

Addressing the systemic push factors listed above requires, first and foremost, greater allocations for free public higher education. This would immediately translate into more recruitments and less work per academic, and better research and teaching in the long haul. An increase in funding would also ideally lead to greater infrastructural investments, especially including improving the living conditions of those who work in regional universities amid untold hardships. Next, fairer, more creative, and, therefore, more effective recruitment policies are badly needed to attract talented individuals to university positions. Rather than carving out a ‘special category’ for academics to achieve this purpose, which is informed by a classed logic, this needs to be done through fundamental reforms in recruitment processes. Third, a persistent attack on the entrenched hierarchy within universities through internal reform is much called for. Reforming recruitment practices will go a long way towards addressing this. Measures should also be taken to introduce more stringent policies against SGBV (not to mention ragging, even though it is not directly connected to brain drain). Such measures would create a safer, fairer, and more attractive workplace, which would give more reasons for people to stay.

On top of greater allocations, we also need a transformation of our aspirations themselves if this situation is to change. That necessitates a kind of education capable of questioning the ‘paradise’ conception of Western societies, and lays bare their colonial material and ideological dimensions, in both their historical and contemporary manifestations. These colonial understandings of the ‘good life’, moreover, have devastating ecological implications for the planet, not to mention social justice. An education with the ability to transform this mindset would hopefully prove to be more than a mere path to social mobility, rather being a tool of social emancipation that renders mobility moot.

(Hasini Lecamwasam is with the Department of Political Science, 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.

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Friends favourite Suzi Croner returns for Oktoberfest 2026

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Charming audiences in Switzerland as Suzi Flückiger, Sri Lanka’s own Suzi Croner is coming home… for a very special occasion.

The bubbly former frontline vocalist of 90s band Friends will take the stage at a popular venue in Colombo for Oktoberfest 2026.

Known in Europe for her country and classic hits, Suzi has remained a much-loved name back home. This will be a rare chance for local fans to see her live and celebrate the voice behind so many Friends memories.

Oktoberfest 2026 in Colombo promises an evening of live music, traditional Bavarian food and beer, colourful dirndls and lederhosen, folk dancing, and plenty of community cheer.

Suzi Croner (Flückiger)

Against this lively backdrop, Suzi will take the stage for a special solo set, featuring her own pre-recorded music. She performed at the event last year too, as a solo artiste, but a German band providing the music.

This year, however she says, it’s a different scene.

“The novel attraction will be the dancers from Germany — all girls, clad in German outfits,” Suzi said. She added that the event will also highlight the activities generally connected with Oktoberfest, which should generate a lot of fun and excitement for those who join her in Colombo next month.

Suzi has become a much-in-demand artiste in Europe, and has even performed Down Under, in Melbourne.

In Switzerland, where she has been based for the past 42 years, she continues to charm audiences with country and classic hits, performing at private events and community nights across Europe.

“My weekends are generally loaded with my work as a singer,” she said. “And I also play tennis three times a week, because I need to keep fit to entertain my audience in an active way.”

Her repertoire is made up mainly of Swiss, German and English songs.

And true to form, Suzi loves springing surprises.

“So watch out when you join me at Oktoberfest 2026, in Colombo!” she said.

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