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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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A plural society requires plural governance

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The local government elections that took place last week saw a consolidation of the democratic system in the country.  The government followed the rules of elections to a greater extent than its recent predecessors some of whom continue to be active on the political stage.  Particularly noteworthy was the absence of the large-scale abuse of state resources, both media and financial, which had become normalised under successive governments in the past four decades.  Reports by independent election monitoring organisations made mention of this improvement in the country’s democratic culture.

In a world where democracy is under siege even in long-established democracies, Sri Lanka’s improvement in electoral integrity is cause for optimism. It also offers a reminder that democracy is always a work in progress, ever vulnerable to erosion and needs to be constantly fought for. The strengthening of faith in democracy as a result of these elections is encouraging.  The satisfaction expressed by the political parties that contested the elections is a sign that democracy in Sri Lanka is strong.  Most of them saw some improvement in their positions from which they took reassurance about their respective futures.

The local government elections also confirmed that the NPP and its core comprising the JVP are no longer at the fringes of the polity.  The NPP has established itself as a mainstream party with an all-island presence, and remarkably so to a greater extent than any other political party.  This was seen at the general elections, where the NPP won a majority of seats in 21 of the country’s 22 electoral districts. This was a feat no other political party has ever done. This is also a success that is challenging to replicate. At the present local government elections, the NPP was successful in retaining its all-island presence although not to the same degree.

Consolidating Support

Much attention has been given to the relative decline in the ruling party’s vote share from the 61 percent it secured in December’s general election to 43 percent in the local elections. This slippage has been interpreted by some as a sign of waning popularity. However, such a reading overlooks the broader trajectory of political change. Just three years ago, the NPP and its allied parties polled less than five percent nationally. That they now command over 40 percent of the vote represents a profound transformation in voter preferences and political culture. What is even more significant is the stability of this support base, which now surpasses that of any rival. The votes obtained by the NPP at these elections were double those of its nearest rival.

The electoral outcomes in the north and east, which were largely won by parties representing the Tamil and Muslim communities, is a warning signal that ethnic conflict lurks beneath the surface. The success of the minority parties signals the different needs and aspirations of the ethnic and religious minority electorates, and the need for the government to engage more fully with them.  Apart from the problems of poverty, lack of development, inadequate access to economic resources and antipathy to excessive corruption that people of the north and east share in common with those in other parts of the country, they also have special problems that other sections of the population do not have. These would include problems of military takeover of their lands, missing persons and persons incarcerated for long periods either without trial or convictions under the draconian Prevention of Terrorism Act (which permits confessions made to security forces to be made admissible for purposes of conviction) and the long time quest for self-rule in the areas of their predominance

The government’s failure to address these longstanding issues with urgency appears to have caused disaffection in electorate in the north and east. While structural change is necessarily complex and slow, delays can be misinterpreted as disinterest or disregard, especially by minorities already accustomed to marginalisation. The lack of visible progress on issues central to minority communities fosters a sense of exclusion and deepens political divides. Even so, it is worth noting that the NPP’s vote in the north and east was not insignificant. It came despite the NPP not tailoring its message to ethnic grievances. The NPP has presented a vision of national reform grounded in shared values of justice, accountability, development, and equality.

Translating electoral gains into meaningful governance will require more than slogans. The failure to swiftly address matters deemed to be important by the people of those areas appears to have cost the NPP votes amongst the ethnic and religious minorities, but even here it is necessary to keep matters in perspective.  The NPP came first in terms of seats won in two of the seven electoral districts of the north and east.  They came second in five others. The fact that the NPP continued to win significant support indicates that its approach of equity in development and equal rights for all has resonance. This was despite the Tamil and Muslim parties making appeals to the electorate on nationalist or ethnic grounds.

Slow Change

Whether in the north and east or outside it, the government is perceived to be slow in delivering on its promises.  In the context of the promise of system change, it can be appreciated that such a change will be resisted tooth and nail by those with vested interests in the continuation of the old system.  System change will invariably be resisted at multiple levels.  The problem is that the slow pace of change may be seen by ethnic and religious minorities as being due to the disregard of their interests.  However, the system change is coming slow not only in the north and east, but also in the entire country.

At the general election in December last year, the NPP won an unprecedented number of parliamentary seats in both the country as well as in the north and east.  But it has still to make use of its 2/3 majority to make the changes that its super majority permits it to do.  With control of 267 out of 339 local councils, but without outright majorities in most, it must now engage in coalition-building and consensus-seeking if it wishes to govern at the local level. This will be a challenge for a party whose identity has long been built on principled opposition to elite patronage, corruption and abuse of power rather than to governance. General Secretary of the JVP, Tilvin Silva, has signaled a reluctance to form alliances with discredited parties but has expressed openness to working with independent candidates who share the party’s values. This position can and should be extended, especially in the north and east, to include political formations that represent minority communities and have remained outside the tainted mainstream.

In a plural and multi-ethnic society like Sri Lanka, democratic legitimacy and effective governance requires coalition-building. By engaging with locally legitimate minority parties, especially in the north and east, the NPP can engage in principled governance without compromising its core values. This needs to be extended to the local government authorities in the rest of the country as well. As the 19th century English political philosopher John Stuart Mill observed, “The worth of a state in the long run is the worth of the individuals composing it,” and in plural societies, that worth can only be realised through inclusive decision-making.

by Jehan Perera

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Commercialising research in Sri Lanka – not really the healthiest thing for research

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Image credit University of Sydney

In the early 2000s, a colleague, returning to Sri Lanka after a decade in a research-heavy first world university, complained to me that ‘there is no research culture in Sri Lanka’. But what exactly does having a ‘research culture’ mean? Is a lot of funding enough? What else has stopped us from working towards a productive and meaningful research culture? A concerted effort has been made to improve the research culture of state universities, though there are debates about how healthy such practices are (there is not much consideration of the same in private ‘universities’ in Sri Lanka but that is a discussion for another time). So, in the 25 years since my colleague bemoaned our situation, what has been happening?

What is a ‘research culture’?

A good research culture would be one where we – academics and students – have the resources to engage productively in research. This would mean infrastructure, training, wholesome mentoring, and that abstract thing called headspace. In a previous Kuppi column, I explained at length some of the issues we face as researchers in Sri Lankan universities, including outdated administrative regulations, poor financial resources, and such aspects. My perspective is from the social sciences, and might be different to other disciplines. Still, I feel that there are at least a few major problems that we all face.

Number one: Money is important.

Take the example American universities. Harvard University, according to Harvard Magazine, “received $686.5 million in federally sponsored research grants” for the fiscal year of 2024 but suddenly find themselves in a bind because of such funds being held back. Research funds in these universities typically goes towards building and maintenance of research labs and institutions, costs of equipment, material and other resources and stipends for graduate and other research assistants, conferences, etc. Without such an infusion of money towards research, the USA would not have been able to attracts (and keeps) the talent and brains of other countries. Without a large amount of money dedicated for research, Sri Lankan state universities, too, will not have the research culture it yearns for. Given the country’s austere economic situation, in the last several years, research funds have come mainly from self-generated funds and treasury funds. Yet, even when research funds are available (they are usually inadequate), we still have some additional problems.

Number two: Unending spools of red tape

In Sri Lankan universities red tape is endless. An MoU with a foreign research institution takes at least a year. Financial regulations surrounding the award and spending of research grants is frustrating.

Here’s a personal anecdote. In 2018, I applied for a small research grant from my university. Several months later, I was told I had been awarded it. It comes to me in installments of not more than Rs 100,000. To receive this installment, I must submit a voucher and wait a few weeks until it passes through various offices and gains various approvals. For mysterious financial reasons, asking for reimbursements is discouraged. Obviously then, if I were working on a time-sensitive study or if I needed a larger amount of money for equipment or research material, I would not be able to use this grant. MY research assistants, transcribers, etc., must be willing to wait for their payments until I receive this advance. In 2022, when I received a second advance, the red tape was even tighter. I was asked to spend the funds and settle accounts – within three weeks. ‘Should I ask my research assistants to do the work and wait a few weeks or months for payment? Or should I ask them not to do work until I get the advance and then finish it within three weeks so I can settle this advance?’ I asked in frustration.

Colleagues, who regularly use university grants, frustratedly go along with it; others may opt to work with organisations outside the university. At a university meeting, a few years ago, set up specifically to discuss how young researchers could be encouraged to do research, a group of senior researchers ended the meeting with a list of administrative and financial problems that need to be resolved if we want to foster ‘a research culture’. These are still unresolved. Here is where academic unions can intervene, though they seem to be more focused on salaries, permits and school quotas. If research is part of an academic’s role and responsibility, a research-friendly academic environment is not a privilege, but a labour issue and also impinges on academic freedom to generate new knowledge.

Number three: Instrumentalist research – a global epidemic

The quality of research is a growing concern, in Sri Lanka and globally. The competitiveness of the global research environment has produced seriously problematic phenomena, such as siphoning funding to ‘trendy’ topics, the predatory publications, predatory conferences, journal paper mills, publications with fake data, etc. Plagiarism, ghost writing and the unethical use of AI products are additional contemporary problems. In Sri Lanka, too, we can observe researchers publishing very fast – doing short studies, trying to publish quickly by sending articles to predatory journals, sending the same article to multiple journals at the same time, etc. Universities want more conferences rather than better conferences. Many universities in Sri Lanka have mandated that their doctoral candidates must publish journal articles before their thesis submission. As a consequence, novice researchers frequently fall prey to predatory journals. Universities have also encouraged faculties or departments to establish journals, which frequently have sub-par peer review.

Alongside this are short-sighted institutional changes. University Business Liankage cells, for instance, were established as part of the last World Bank loan cycle to universities. They are expected to help ‘commercialise’ research and focuses on research that can produce patents, and things that can be sold. Such narrow vision means that the broad swathe of research that is undertaken in universities are unseen and ignored, especially in the humanities and social sciences. A much larger vision could have undertaken the promotion of research rather than commercialisation of it, which can then extend to other types of research.

This brings us to the issue of what types of research is seen as ‘relevant’ or ‘useful’. This is a question that has significant repercussions. In one sense, research is an elitist endeavour. We assume that the public should trust us that public funds assigned for research will be spent on worth-while projects. Yet, not all research has an outcome that shows its worth or timeliness in the short term. Some research may not be understood other than by specialists. Therefore, funds, or time spent on some research projects, are not valued, and might seem a waste, or a privilege, until and unless a need for that knowledge suddenly arises.

A short example suffices. Since the 1970s, research on the structures of Sinhala and Sri Lankan Tamil languages (sound patterns, sentence structures of the spoken versions, etc.) have been nearly at a standstill. The interest in these topics are less, and expertise in these areas were not prioritised in the last 30 years. After all, it is not an area that can produce lucrative patents or obvious contributions to the nation’s development. But with digital technology and AI upon us, the need for systematic knowledge of these languages is sorely evident – digital technologies must be able to work in local languages to become useful to whole populations. Without a knowledge of the structures and sounds of local languages – especially the spoken varieties – people who cannot use English cannot use those devices and platforms. While providing impetus to research such structures, this need also validates utilitarian research.

This then is the problem with espousing instrumental ideologies of research. World Bank policies encourage a tying up between research and the country’s development goals. However, in a country like ours, where state policies are tied to election manifestos, the result is a set of research outputs that are tied to election cycles. If in 2019, the priority was national security, in 2025, it can be ‘Clean Sri Lanka’. Prioritising research linked to short-sighted visions of national development gains us little in the longer-term. At the same time, applying for competitive research grants internationally, which may have research agendas that are not nationally relevant, is problematic. These are issues of research ethics as well.

Concluding thoughts

In moving towards a ‘good research culture’, Sri Lankan state universities have fallen into the trap of adopting some of the problematic trends that have swept through the first world. Yet, since we are behind the times anyway, it is possible for us to see the damaging consequences of those issues, and to adopt the more fruitful processes. A slower, considerate approach to research priorities would be useful for Sri Lanka at this point. It is also a time for collective action to build a better research environment, looking at new relationships and collaborations, and mentoring in caring ways.

(Dr. Kaushalya Perera teaches at the Department of English, University of Colombo)

Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.

By Kaushalya Perera

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Melantha …in the spotlight

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Fun mode for Melantha Perera and Allwyn H. Stephen

Melantha Perera, who has been associated with many top bands in the past, due to his versatility as a musician, is now enjoying his solo career, as well … as a singer.

He was invited to perform at the first ever ‘Noon2Moon’ event, held in Dubai, at The Huddle, CityMax Hotel, on Saturday, 3rd May.

It was 15 hours of non-stop music, featuring several artistes, with Melantha (the only Sri Lankan on the show), doing two sets.

According to reports coming my way, ‘Noon2Moon’ turned out to be the party of the year, with guests staying back till well past 3.00 am, although it was a 12.00 noon to 3.00 am event.

Having Arabic food

Melantha says he enjoyed every minute he spent on stage as the crowd, made up mostly of Indians, loved the setup.

“I included a few Sinhala songs as there were some Sri Lankans, as well, in the scene.”

Allwyn H. Stephen, who is based in the UAE, was overjoyed with the success of ‘Noon2Moon’.

Says Allwyn: “The 1st ever Noon2Moon event in Dubai … yes, we delivered as promised. Thank you to the artistes for the fab entertainment, the staff of The Huddle UAE , the sound engineers, our sponsors, my supporters for sharing and supporting and, most importantly, all those who attended and stayed back till way past 3.00 am.”

Melantha:
Dubai and
then Oman

Allwyn, by the way, came into the showbiz scene, in a big way, when he featured artistes, live on social media, in a programme called TNGlive, during the Covid-19 pandemic.

After his performance in Dubai, Melantha went over to Oman and was involved in a workshop – ‘Workshop with Melantha Perera’, organised by Clifford De Silva, CEO of Music Connection.

The Workshop included guitar, keyboard and singing/vocal training, with hands-on guidance from the legendary Melantha Perera, as stated by the sponsors, Music Connection.

Back in Colombo, Melantha will team up with his band Black Jackets for their regular dates at the Hilton, on Fridays and Sundays, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays at Warehouse, Vauxhall Street.

Melantha also mentioned that Bright Light, Sri Lanka’s first musical band formed entirely by visually impaired youngsters, will give their maiden public performance on 7th June at the MJF Centre Auditorium in Katubadda, Moratuwa.

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