Features
Remembering Hiroshima: A painful lesson the world must not forget
The Pearl Harbour attack united American citizens like never before. Young men volunteered to fight, factories increased production, and the entire nation mobilised for war. Some may recall the fictional Rosie the Riveter flexing her muscles and with the words “We can do it”. As a result, many females started working in factories making munitions. The US would go on to play a decisive role in defeating the Axis powers.
Terrible tragedy of Hiroshima 80 years ago
On August 6, 1945, at 8:15 a.m., a single bomb dropped by a US aircraft changed the world forever. The city of Hiroshima in Japan was instantly turned into a fiery wasteland when the atomic bomb—nicknamed “Little Boy”—exploded in the sky above. It was the first time a nuclear weapon was used in war. Three days later, another bomb was dropped on Nagasaki. Together, these bombings brought World War II to a close, but at a terrible human cost.
The bomb that hit Hiroshima released energy equivalent to 15,000 tons of TNT. It killed approximately 140,000 people by the end of 1945. Some died instantly. Many others suffered for days and weeks with severe burns, internal injuries, and radiation sickness.
Visiting Hiroshima in the year 2000 with my son, and visiting the museum, it was horrifying to see the models of burning human beings and the melting of their skins. The only remnant of the bomb was one lone bombed building; the A-bomb dome or Genbaku dome in Japanese. The Memorial Peace Park in Hiroshima attracts many Japanese and foreign tourists today.
In the years that followed, the tragedy deepened. Radiation exposure led to a sharp rise in cancer and other health problems. By 1950, the number of deaths due to the bomb had risen to 200,000. Survivors faced long-term effects. Many were disabled for life.
One of the most painful legacies of the bombing was leukaemia, a form of blood cancer. Studies show that from 1950 to 2000, over 10,000 survivors developed cancer, with leukaemia rates 2 to 3 times higher than average, especially among children who were exposed. For many survivors, the pain didn’t end with physical scars. They also faced social rejection, mental trauma, and the loss of family and friends.
Sadako Sasaki
The Pearl Harbour attack provoked the US
On the morning of December 7, 1941, Hawaii’s peace was shattered by the roar of aeroplanes and the thunder of explosions. The Japanese Imperial Navy had launched a surprise attack on the United States naval base at Pearl Harbour, located on the island of Oahu. This event pushed the United States into World War II and marked a turning point in global history.
While the attack caused devastating military losses, it is essential to note that very few civilians were killed. The target was a military installation, and Japan’s main goal was to destroy the U.S. Pacific Fleet. In contrast to bombings later in the war that targeted entire cities, Pearl Harbour was a military strike, not an attack on civilians.
At exactly 7:55 a.m. that day, waves of Japanese fighter planes, bombers, and torpedo planes descended on the harbour. In less than two hours, the US Navy had suffered enormous damage: 8 battleships were damaged or destroyed, including the USS Arizona, which exploded and sank, killing over 1,100 men. More than 300 aircraft were damaged or destroyed. Over 2,400 Americans were killed, almost all of them military personnel. About 1,000 more were wounded.
Despite the heavy blow, key parts of the U.S. Pacific Fleet, such as aircraft carriers, were not in the harbour at the time. This helped America to comeback in the Pacific. The low civilian death toll is significant, especially when compared to later events such as the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, where hundreds of thousands of civilians perished instantly.
The day after the attack, President Franklin D. Roosevelt delivered a powerful speech to Congress, calling December 7 “a date which will live in infamy.” The US declared war on Japan, officially entering World War II.
The Pearl Harbour attack united American citizens like never before. Young men volunteered to fight, factories increased production, and the entire nation mobilised for war. Some may recall the fictional Rosie the Riveter flexing her muscles and with the words “We can do it”. As a result, many females started working in factories making munitions. The US would go on to play a decisive role in defeating the Axis powers.
Although the bombing of Pearl Harbour was a strategic success for Japan in the short term, it was a strategic mistake in the long run. It awakened a sleeping giant. The US entry into the war helped turn the tide against Japan and its allies. In less than four years, the war ended with Japan’s defeat.
Sadako Sasaki and the sad Story of a thousand Origami paper cranes
One of the most heart-breaking stories to emerge from the aftermath of the Hiroshima atomic bombing was that of Sadako Sasaki, a young girl who became a global symbol of peace, hope, and the innocent victims of war.
Sadako was just two years old when the atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima. Though she was not visibly injured, she was exposed to the radiation from the blast. For years, she lived a happy, everyday life. She loved running and was one of the fastest members of her school relay team.
But ten years after the bombing, Sadako suddenly fell ill. In 1955, at the age of 12, she was diagnosed with leukaemia—a type of cancer caused by radiation exposure. At the hospital, Sadako learned of an old Japanese legend. If a person folds 1,000 origami paper cranes, the gods would grant them a wish. A crane is a large bird with a long neck. In Japan it represents longevity, happiness, and eternal youth, because mythical beliefs say it lives a thousand years.
Clinging to hope and determined to live, Sadako began folding paper cranes one by one. She used medicine wrappers, scraps of paper, and anything she could find. Her goal was simple but powerful: to fold 1,000 cranes and be granted the wish to recover and live.
With quiet courage, Sadako continued to fold, even as her body gradually grew weaker. She is believed to have folded more than 1,300 cranes, far exceeding her target. But despite her strength and determination, Sadako passed away on October 25, 1955, surrounded by her family.
Sadako’s story touched hearts around the world. Her classmates and friends were inspired by her bravery and began a campaign to build a monument in her honour. Today, the Children’s Peace Monument stands in the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Park. On it are the words: “This is our cry. This is our prayer. Peace in the world.” Children from all over the world send paper cranes to Hiroshima every year, keeping Sadako’s spirit alive. The day I visited Hiroshima, hundreds of schoolchildren carried flowers to lay at the base of the Memorial.
Sadako Sasaki’s story serves as a poignant reminder of the human cost of war, particularly on children. Her paper cranes are not just folded paper—they are folded hope, love, and the desperate wish for peace. Though she did not survive, her message lives on: Let no child ever suffer like this again.
The aftermath of the N bomb
The day after the bomb, newspapers around the world carried the dramatic headlines. Most focused on the incredible power of the bomb and its potential to end World War II swiftly. But even amid celebration and shock, some newspapers and journalists raised early warnings about the terrible dangers of this new kind of weapon.
A few brave voices quickly pointed out the grave danger of entering the nuclear age. One of the most notable warnings came from the editorial page of The New York Times itself. Just days after the bombing, on August 9, 1945, the paper published an editorial titled “The Atomic Age”, which said: “For all we know, in unleashing atomic energy, man may be opening a door that he will never be able to close.” The editorial warned that although the bomb might help end the war, it also posed a serious moral and existential threat to the future of humanity.
Similarly, the St. Louis Post-Dispatch ran an editorial titled “Frankenstein’s Monster”, drawing comparisons to the famous tale of a man-made creation that grew out of control. The paper inquired whether humanity had created a force that could ultimately destroy its own creator.
Shortly after the bombings, a group of scientists who had worked on the Project began to speak out. The Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, first published in 1945, was born out of their concern. These scientists warned that nuclear weapons must never again be used in war. Their famous “Doomsday Clock” was created to symbolise how close the world is to self-destruction. Some newspapers quoted these scientists, noting that even those who built the bomb were now afraid of its power.
Outside the United States, the tone of newspaper coverage was often more sombre and critical. The Manchester Guardian in the UK (now The Guardian) was one of the first newspapers to question whether the use of the atomic bomb was morally justifiable.
The London Daily Mirror ran a headline: “Japan’s New Graveyard.” It warned that the bomb represented a new kind of horror—one that could erase entire cities in a flash and leave lasting suffering for generations.
In India, which was still under British rule, newspapers like The Hindustan Times and The Bombay Chronicle questioned the ethics of using such a powerful weapon on civilians.
Those early warnings—sometimes buried in editorial pages—have proven to be prophetic. The fears raised in August 1945 are still relevant today, as nuclear weapons remain a threat in global politics.
Lessons we must learn
After visiting Hiroshima in 2000 I was hoping that very soon the world will see a change to peace. Instead, 25 years later I find conflicts in many parts of the world. The world seems to have lost its conscience. Sri Lanka came out of a terrible conflict; however, I can see more hope for reconciliation here than in many other places. Wars in Indochina escalated in the 1970s but they all are peaceful and prospering countries today. Even without nuclear power, six million Jews were killed by the Nazis during 1941 to 1945. So, let us hope that the future will be better for the human race.
Today, nearly 80 years later, Hiroshima stands as a peaceful city. The Hiroshima Peace Memorial and Museum serve as a reminder of the horrors of war and the urgent need for peace. Every August, people around the world observe a moment of silence to remember the victims and pray that such a tragedy never happens again. Yet, looking at the world today, we must ask: Have we truly learned the lesson of Hiroshima?
In recent years, we have witnessed terrible wars and human suffering in different parts of the world. The Russia–Ukraine conflict has led to tens of thousands of deaths and millions displaced. Cities have been bombed, schools and hospitals destroyed, and children forced to grow up amid gunfire and fear.
In the Israel–Palestine conflict, we have seen neighbourhoods turned into rubble, families torn apart, and innocent lives lost on both sides. Airstrikes, ground assaults, and blockades have created one of the worst humanitarian crises in recent times. Wars only create widows, orphans and children without their mother or father, people without their spouses. War is not strange to us, Sri Lankans. The scars still remain, and the hatred towards the perpetrators still continues. In Sri Lanka, however, there are efforts being made to have lasting peace.
While these wars may not involve nuclear weapons, the suffering of ordinary people—especially children, women, and the elderly—is no less heart-breaking. The faces of survivors in Ukraine or Gaza today are hauntingly similar to those of Hiroshima’s Hibakusha (atomic bomb survivors and those affected by radioactivity).
The world has enough weapons now to destroy its population many times over. Yet, peace remains fragile, and global regulators remain ineffective.
As global citizens, we must raise our voices against violence. We must encourage our leaders to engage in dialogue, foster compassion, and cultivate understanding. We must remember that war is not a video game or a matter of pride and superiority. It is pain, destruction, and death.
On this August 6, let us honour the victims of Hiroshima by ensuring that their suffering was not in vain. Let us work to stop the madness of war and conflicts, wherever they occur. And let us teach our children not just history, but the value of peace.
by Sunil G Wijesinha ✍️
Consultant on Productivity and Japanese Management
Recipient of the “Order of the Rising Sun;
Gold and Silver Rays” by the Government of Japan.
bizex.seminarsandconsulting@gmail.com.
In the space of 15 months, President Anura Kumara Dissanayake has visited the North of the country more than any other president or prime minister. These were not flying visits either. The president most recent visit to Jaffna last week was on the occasion of Thai Pongal to celebrate the harvest and the dawning of a new season. During the two days he spent in Jaffna, the president launched the national housing project, announced plans to renovate Palaly Airport, to expedite operations at the Kankesanthurai Port, and pledged once again that racism would have no place in the country.
There is no doubt that the president’s consistent presence in the north has had a reassuring effect. His public rejection of racism and his willingness to engage openly with ethnic and religious minorities have helped secure his acceptance as a national leader rather than a communal one. In the fifteen months since he won the presidential election, there have been no inter community clashes of any significance. In a country with a long history of communal tension, this relative calm is not accidental. It reflects a conscious political choice to lower the racial temperature rather than inflame it.
But preventing new problems is only part of the task of governing. While the government under President Dissanayake has taken responsibility for ensuring that anti-minority actions are not permitted on its watch, it has yet to take comparable responsibility for resolving long standing ethnic and political problems inherited from previous governments. These problems may appear manageable because they have existed for years, even decades. Yet their persistence does not make them innocuous. Beneath the surface, they continue to weaken trust in the state and erode confidence in its ability to deliver justice.
Core Principle
A core principle of governance is responsibility for outcomes, not just intentions. Governments do not begin with a clean slate. Governments do not get to choose only the problems they like. They inherit the state in full, with all its unresolved disputes, injustices and problemmatic legacies. To argue that these are someone else’s past mistakes is politically convenient but institutionally dangerous. Unresolved problems have a habit of resurfacing at the most inconvenient moments, often when a government is trying to push through reforms or stabilise the economy.
This reality was underlined in Geneva last week when concerns were raised once again about allegations of sexual abuse that occurred during the war, affecting both men and women who were taken into government custody. Any sense that this issue had faded from international attention was dispelled by the release of a report by the Office of the Human Rights High Commissioner titled “Sri Lanka: Report on conflict related sexual violence”, dated 13.01.26. Such reports do not emerge in a vacuum. They are shaped by the absence of credible domestic processes that investigate allegations, establish accountability and offer redress. They also shape international perceptions, influence diplomatic relationships and affect access to cooperation and support.
Other unresolved problems from the past continue to fester. These include the continued detention of Tamil prisoners under the Prevention of Terrorism Act, in some cases for many years without conclusion, the failure to return civilian owned land taken over by the military during the war, and the fate of thousands of missing persons whose families still seek answers. These are not marginal issues even when they are not at the centre stage. They affect real lives and entire communities. Their cumulative effect is corrosive, undermining efforts to restore normalcy and rebuild confidence in public institutions.
Equal Rights
Another area where delay will prove costly is the resettlement of Malaiyaha Tamil communities affected by the recent cyclone in the central hills, which was the worst affected region in the country. Even as President Dissanayake celebrated Thai Pongal in Jaffna to the appreciation of the people there, Malaiyaha Tamils engaged in peaceful campaigns to bring attention to their unresolved problems. In Colombo at the Liberty Roundabout, a number of them gathered to symbolically celebrate Thai Pongal while also bringing national attention to the issues of their community, in particular the problem of displacement after the cyclone.
The impact of the cyclone, and the likelihood of future ones under conditions of climate change, make it necessary for the displaced Malaiyaha Tamils to be found new places of residence. This is also an opportunity to tackle the problem of their landlessness in a comprehensive manner and make up for decades if not two centuries of inequity.
Planning for relocation and secure housing is good governance. This needs to be done soon. Climate related disasters do not respect political timetables. They punish delay and indecision. A government that prides itself on system change cannot respond to such challenges with temporary fixes.
The government appears concerned that finding new places for the Malaiyaha Tamil people to be resettled will lead to land being taken away from plantation companies which are said to be already struggling for survival. Due to the economic crisis the country has faced since it went bankrupt in 2022, the government has been deferential to the needs of company owners who are receiving most favoured treatment. As a result, the government is contemplating solutions such as high rise apartments and townhouse style housing to minimise the use of land.
Such solutions cannot substitute for a comprehensive strategy that includes consultations with the affected population and addresses their safety, livelihoods and community stability.
Lose Trust
Most of those who voted for the government at the last elections did so in the hope that it would bring about system change. They did not vote for the government to reinforce the same patterns that the old system represented. At its core, system change means rebalancing priorities. It means recognising that economic efficiency without social justice is a short-term gain with long-term costs. It means understanding that unresolved ethnic grievances, unaddressed wartime abuses and unequal responses to disaster will eventually undermine any development programme, no matter how well designed. Governance that postpones difficult decisions may buy time, but lose trust.
The coming year will therefore be decisive. The government must show that its commitment to non racism and inclusion extends beyond conflict prevention to conflict resolution. Addressing conflict related abuses, concluding long standing detentions, returning land, accounting for the missing and securing dignified resettlement for displaced communities are not distractions from the government programme. They are central to it. A government committed to genuine change must address the problems it inherited, or run the risk of being overwhelmed when those problems finally demand settlement.
by Jehan Perera
This Kuppi writing aims to engage critically with the current discussion on the reform initiative “Transforming General Education in Sri Lanka 2025,” focusing on institutional and structural changes, including the integration of a digitally driven model alongside curriculum development, teacher training, and assessment reforms. By engaging with these proposed institutional and structural changes through the parameters of the division and recognition of labour, welfare and distribution systems, and lived ground realities, the article develops a critical perspective on the current reform discourse. By examining both the historical context and the present moment, the article argues that these institutional and structural changes attempt to align education with a neoliberal agenda aimed at enhancing the global corporate sector by producing “skilled” labour. This agenda is further evaluated through the pedagogical approach of socialist feminist scholarship. While the reforms aim to produce a ‘skilled workforce with financial literacy,’ this writing raises a critical question: whose labour will be exploited to achieve this goal? Why and What Reform to Education
In exploring why, the government of Sri Lanka seeks to introduce reforms to the current education system, the Prime Minister and Minister of Education, Higher Education, and Vocational Education, Dr. Harini Amarasuriya, revealed in a recent interview on 15 January 2026 on News First Sri Lanka that such reforms are a pressing necessity. According to the philosophical tradition of education reform, curriculum revision and prevailing learning and teaching structures are expected every eight years; however, Sri Lanka has not undertaken such revisions for the past ten years. The renewal of education is therefore necessary, as the current system produces structural issues, including inequality in access to quality education and the need to create labour suited to the modern world. Citing her words, the reforms aim to create “intelligent, civil-minded citizens” in order to build a country where people live in a civilised manner, work happily, uphold democratic principles, and live dignified lives.
Interpreting her narrative, I claim that the reform is intended to produce, shape, and develop a workforce for the neoliberal economy, now centralised around artificial intelligence and machine learning. My socialist feminist perspective explains this further, referring to Rosa Luxemburg’s reading on reforms for social transformation. As Luxemburg notes, although the final goal of reform is to transform the existing order into a better and more advanced system: The question remains: does this new order truly serve the working class? In the case of education, the reform aims to transform children into “intelligent, civil-minded citizens.” Yet, will the neoliberal economy they enter, and the advanced technological industries that shape it, truly provide them a better life, when these industries primarily seek surplus profit?
History suggests otherwise. Sri Lanka has repeatedly remained at the primary manufacturing level within neoliberal industries. The ready-made garment industry, part of the global corporate fashion system, provides evidence: it exploited both manufacturing labourers and brand representatives during structural economic changes in the 1980s. The same pattern now threatens to repeat in the artificial intelligence sector, raising concerns about who truly benefits from these education reforms
That historical material supports the claim that the primary manufacturing labour for the artificial intelligence industry will similarly come from these workers, who are now being trained as skilled employees who follow the system rather than question it. This context can be theorised through Luxemburg’s claim that critical thinking training becomes a privileged instrument, alienating the working class from such training, an approach that neoliberalism prefers to adopt in the global South.
Institutional and Structural Gaps
Though the government aims to address the institutional and structural gaps, I claim that these gaps will instead widen due to the deeply rooted system of uneven distribution in the country. While agreeing to establish smart classrooms, the critical query is the absence of a wide technological welfare system across the country. From electricity to smart equipment, resources remain inadequate, and the government lags behind in taking prompt initiative to meet these requirements.
This issue is not only about the unavailability of human and material infrastructure, but also about the absence of a plan to restore smart normalcy after natural disasters, particularly the resumption of smart network connections. Access to smart learning platforms, such as the internet, for schoolchildren is a high-risk factor that requires not only the monitoring of classroom teachers but also the involvement of the state. The state needs to be vigilant of abuses and disinformation present in the smart-learning space, an area in which Sri Lanka is still lagging. This concern is not only about the safety of children but also about the safety of women. For example, the recent case of abusive image production via Elon Musk’s AI chatbox, X, highlights the urgent need for a legal framework in Sri Lanka.
Considering its geographical location, Sri Lanka is highly vulnerable to natural disasters, the frequency in which they occur, increasing, owing to climate change. Ditwah is a recent example, where villages were buried alive by landslides, rivers overflowed, and families were displaced, losing homes that they had built over their lifetimes. The critical question, then, is: despite the government’s promise to integrate climate change into the curriculum, how can something still ‘in the air ‘with climate adaptation plans yet to be fully established, be effectively incorporated into schools?
Looking at the demographic map of the country, the expansion of the elderly population, the dependent category, requires attention. Considering the physical and psychological conditions of this group, fostering “intelligent, civic-minded” citizens necessitates understanding the elderly not as a charity case but as a human group deserving dignity. This reflects a critical reading of the reform content: what, indeed, is to be taught? This critical aspect further links with the next section of reflective of ground reality.
Reflective Narrative of Ground Reality
Despite the government asserting that the “teacher” is central to this reform, critical engagement requires examining how their labour is recognised. In Sri Lanka, teachers’ work has long been tied to social recognition, both utilised and exploited, Teachers receive low salaries while handling multiple roles: teaching, class management, sectional duties, and disciplinary responsibilities.
At present, a total teaching load is around 35 periods a week, with 28 periods spent in classroom teaching. The reform adds continuous assessments, portfolio work, projects, curriculum preparation, peer coordination, and e-knowledge, to the teacher’s responsibilities. These are undeclared forms of labour, meaning that the government assigns no economic value to them; yet teachers perform these tasks as part of a long-standing culture. When this culture is unpacked, the gendered nature of this undeclared labour becomes clear. It is gendered because the majority of schoolteachers are women, and their unpaid roles remain unrecognised. It is worth citing some empirical narratives to illustrate this point:
“When there was an extra-school event, like walks, prize-giving, or new openings, I stayed after school to design some dancing and practice with the students. I would never get paid for that extra time,” a female dance teacher in the Western Province shared.
I cite this single empirical account, and I am certain that many teachers have similar stories to share.
Where the curriculum is concerned, schoolteachers struggle to complete each lesson as planned due to time constraints and poor infrastructure. As explained by a teacher in the Central Province:
“It is difficult to have a reliable internet connection. Therefore, I use the hotspot on my phone so the children can access the learning material.”
Using their own phones and data for classroom activities is not part of a teacher’s official duties, but a culture has developed around the teaching role that makes such decisions necessary. Such activities related to labour risks further exploitation under the reform if the state remains silent in providing the necessary infrastructure.
Considering that women form the majority of the teaching profession, none of the reforms so far have taken women’s health issues seriously. These issues could be exacerbated by the extra stress arising from multiple job roles. Many female teachers particularly those with young children, those in peri- or post-menopause stages of their life, or those with conditions like endometriosis may experience aggravated health problems due to work-related stress intensified by the reform. This raises a critical question: what role does the state play in addressing these issues?
In Conclusion
The following suggestions are put forward:
First and foremost, the government should clearly declare the fundamental plan of the reform, highlighting why, what, when, and how it will be implemented. This plan should be grounded in the realities of the classroom, focusing on being child-centred and teacher-focused.
Technological welfare interventions are necessary, alongside a legal framework to ensure the safety and security of accessing the smart, information-centred world. Furthermore, teachers’ labour should be formally recognised and assigned economic value. Currently, under neoliberal logic, teachers are often left to navigate these challenges on their own, as if the choice is between survival or collapse.
Aruni Samarakoon teaches at the Department of Public Policy, University of Ruhuna
Kuppi is a politics and pedagogy happening on the margins of the lecture hall that parodies, subverts, and simultaneously reaffirms social hierarchies.
By Aruni Samarakoon
Diliup Gabadamudalige is, indeed, a maestro where music is concerned, and this is what he had to say, referring to our Seen ‘N’ Heard in The Island of 6th January, 2026, and I totally agree with his comments.
Diliup: “AI avatars will take over these concerts. It will take some time, but it surely will happen in the near future. Artistes can stay at home and hire their avatar for concerts, movies, etc. Lyrics and dance moves, even gymnastics can be pre-trained”.
Yes, and that would certainly be unsettling as those without talent will make use of AI to deceive the public.
Right now at most events you get the stage crowded with lyrics stands and, to make matters even worse, some of the artistes depend on the smartphone to put over a song – checking out the lyrics, on the smartphone, every few seconds!
In the good ole days, artistes relied on their talent, stage presence, and memorisation skills to dominate the stage.
They would rehearse till they knew the lyrics by heart and focus on connecting with the audience.
Smartphones and lyrics stands: A common sight these days
The ability of the artiste to keep the audience entertained, from start to finish, makes a live performance unforgettable That’s the magic of a great show!
When an artiste’s energy is contagious, and they’re clearly having a blast, the audience feeds off it and gets taken on an exciting ride. It’s like the whole crowd is vibing on the same frequency.
Singing with feeling, on stage, creates this electric connection with the audience, but it can’t be done with a smartphone in one hand and lyrics stands lined up on the stage.
AI’s gonna shake things up in the music scene, for sure – might replace some roles, like session musicians or sound designers – but human talent will still shine!
AI can assist, but it’s tough to replicate human emotion, experience, and soul in music.
In the modern world, I guess artistes will need to blend old-school vibes with new tech but certainly not with smartphones and lyrics stands!
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