Features

Sam Wijesinha ten years later

Published

2 years ago

2024/08/25

Thilina Walpola

Sam Wijesinha

by Rajiva Wijesinha

My father died on August 31 in 2014, about ten years ago. He had lived for two thirds of a century before that at Lakmahal, the house I have lived in all my life, though for the last eight years it is only in half of it. But that is just as well, for in the two years I lived alone here after he died, I was always conscious of his presence, for he had filled the place in a way that I cannot do.

We had been alone together at Lakmahal for 17 years before that, though fortunately he had good servants, for much of that time, in addition to the former servants who had, as part of the Lakmahal tradition, been given accommodation and food if they moved on to jobs in Colombo after some years of good service. Before he died my father kept telling me that I should keep on his staff, and though I could not promise, after he died I felt, though my sister urged me to part with them, that I had to continue to offer them a home.

I have celebrated my father’s life over the years, publishing a collection of his essays when he was 80, and then when he was 90 a collection of appreciations of his life and work. His 100th birthday fell in the worst days of corona, so what I will do here is what I should have done then, celebrated the last years of his life, when the world of Lakmahal that he had entered when he married my mother was no more.

Her mother, who had dominated the house, had died two years earlier, and then my mother died in 1997. Before that we had had 17 years of the four of us, a contrast to the first 17 years of my life when the house had been full of children too, for my brother and sister were gregarious and the place was full of noise and laughter.

The last 17 years then were very different, for there were just, as I used to put it, two cantankerous old men who got on very well however, for we understood each other and were good companions. He relied on me a lot, as indeed I did on him. Once when I was going abroad, he broke down, and told me that I was all that he had, and though I told him that he had my sister, who did a lot for him and the household, I could understand what he meant. For either of us, the other was the priority, which it could not be for someone with a family of her own, and though we argued it was with an understanding of what the other wanted and needed. This was not the case with my sister, who reminded me often of Trollope’s Lady Laura, who loved Phineas Finn, and would do anything for him, but it never occurred to her to think of what he might want.

But she was invaluable, for in the decade after my mother died I continued with my peripatetic existence, and it got more intense, Sabaragamuwa University and the Sri Lanka Military Academy degree programme and supervision too of the pre-University General English Language Training programme, which I had taken on in 1993 so that I was out of Colombo practically every week. This continued for the whole island for a couple of years after I had joined Sabaragamuwa and then, when it was decentralized, for the Uva and Sabaragamuwa Provinces and the Hambantota District.

This last was to the irritation of Ruhuna University, but the UGC Chairman I think understood why I had asked for it. The reason I gave was that it made travel simpler, to visit centres in a circuit, but the real reason was that it included my father’s home village and I had taken over the management of the vast acreage he had bought for the next generation, including the children of his brother Francis who had died young so that it was my father who in effect looked after his children as they grew up, and ensured they got a decent education.

He had run a Vocational Training Centre there but the relation who had done a great job had had to give up when he fell ill and his replacement was not so good. So I started an English Training Centre there, with support from the Sri Lanka Canadian Development Foundation, which pleased my father no end. He had got their agreement to support the place some years earlier, but my mother then chaired the Foundation and said she would have to resign if her husband got support from it, so he had given up the idea. Some years after my project took off, he became its President, and that was a task he continued with until his death, the board meeting at Lakmahal, and when in the last month he could not go downstairs papers being brought up to him for his signature. The staff there were in tears when they came up after their last meeting, and realized he was dying. In the years before that my father had been delighted that I visited the place often, to check on the English project, staying initially with his brother Eddie and his wife Girlie in the house he had been brought up in. He was very proud of the way the house had been maintained, and delighted that I spent nights there. And he would always ask me when I got to Colombo, ‘How is Girlie’s garden?’She kept it beautifully, and it was from her that I picked up the practice of keeping fish in old bath-tubs, and also growing flowers, though what I have is nothing like as elegant as she possessed. And my father was pleased when I told him how much I loved waking up early, to the sound of peacocks on the lawn, and then sitting out on the verandah with my coffee as the sun illuminated the colours of the garden and the tall coconut trees beyond.

* Though I was away a lot in the decade after my mother died, as indeed I had been out during the five years before that, I tried to provide companionship for my father. I asked Manik de Silva, who loved and admired him, to arrange for someone to interview him, and for several months there appeared reminiscences in the Sunday Island. Unfortunately the reporter did not do what I had wanted, which was to record his memories of the interesting people he had worked with, but rather concentrated on his life.

That was interesting, but I had hoped rather for his views on those he had known through his time in parliament, and from his careful study of the statesmen of the past. So for his 80^th birthday, which occurred in 2001, I collected the essays he had written about these individuals, and also about constitutional developments, and published a book called All Experience: Essays and Reflections which provides invaluable insights on individuals and developments in danger of being forgotten, Sir Ponnambalam Ramanathan for instance, and the path to self-government through four sets of reforms under British Governors over two decades.

It was through discussion with him about these last that I wrote Political Principles and Their Practice in Sri Lanka which was published in 2005 by the Cambridge University Press Foundation Books imprint in India. I was delighted to find that it is still available on Amazon, though for a princely sum, and is advertises as introducing students to the basic concepts in political science. The first part of the book provides a historical overview of the manner in which various political structures emerged. The second part deals with successive constitutions in Sri Lanka, and their failure to uphold political principles in response to changing political situations. Short and insightful, this book will be an invaluable guide to students seeking understanding and analysis of ideas and issues in politics.

The clarity is all his, for he traced, in a manner that I will always remember, the move from limited elections to elections on a territorial basis and the introduction first of a majority of unofficial members and then of elected members, before universal franchise and the grant of executive responsibility to Ceylonese.

When the reporter Manik de Silva had sent, who was not very reliable, had finished his task, I got one of my students to stay at home, to look after the bookshop which I had set up at the British Council when I worked there, and which had been handed over, with its stock, for the English Association to manage. This was Jayantha Wannisinghe, son of a farmer from Amparai, who had a deep thirst for English and did so well at university that in time he became an academic at the Sri Palee campus of Colombo University. But as he finished his degree he was at a loose end, and needed money, so he was delighted to work for EASL. And he was an ideal companion, for he was eager to learn about the world at large, and kept my father going at mealtimes, when he needed company for he always hated to eat by himself.

There were other companions later on, when I resumed my peripatetic existence after I became a Member of Parliament and, as Adviser on Reconciliation to the President, travelled frequently to the North and East. For I had set up my office in the library at home, which my father no longer used, and my former students who worked for me, as secretary or research officer, would have lunch with him every day.

But the companionship I provided was nothing like the companionship he created, for in those years when often he was by himself at Lakmahal, he filled it with friends. His contemporaries, including his old friend Mylvaganam, and Diana Captain who had been a bridesmaid at his wedding, were there often of an evening; he had much younger friends who came frequently, ranging from his niece Tekla and her husband Walter Ladduwahetty, and his nephew Ranjith Atapattu, to even the next generation down, much younger people such as my cousin Nirmali Wickremesinghe and her husband Narme, his brothers’ children and our Indian friend Mohan Bhatkal. Derrick and Ayra Nugawela stayed over frequently, until Ayra died in 2012 and Derrick refused after that to leave Kandy. And overseas friends also stayed, such as our friends from his Canada days, the Hjalsteds, and their children, while for years Sharmini Parasivam, to whom my parents had offered a home when she had to leave Jaffna, was with us.

I marvelled then how on his own he could still fill Lakmahal, and the conversation always flowed, interestingly and informatively. I was reminded then of what the Air Lanka steward who looked after us when we brought back my mother’s body had told me. I thanked him for his care, and he said he understood for he too had recently lost his wife.

I was stunned, and said how very much worse it must have been to lose a young wife. But his response was that he knew that somehow he had to cope, whereas for my father, 75 then, the danger was that he would give up, as so many men have done when their wife of several years has left them. But my father took a deep breath as it were, and decided to go on, and created for himself another full tranche of life.

He was 93 when he died, and there is no reason for grief for he had had a full life, and was ready to go. But I still miss him, and am glad that when we divided the house his bedroom went to my sister. For in the years after he died, whenever I entered that room I would sense his presence and remember the contented hours we spent together there, over the years and in the last month when he knew he was going, but still till the very end continued his whimsical joyous self.

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Features

Retirement age for judges: Innovation and policy

Published

12 hours ago

2026/04/6

Thilina Walpola

I. The Constitutional Context

Independence of the judiciary is, without question, an essential element of a functioning democracy. In recognition of this, ample provision is made in the highest law of our country, the Constitution, to engender an environment in which the courts are able to fulfil their public responsibility with total acceptance.

As part of this protective apparatus, judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal are assured of security of tenure by the provision that “they shall not be removed except by an order of the President made after an address of Parliament supported by a majority of the total number of members of Parliament, (including those not present), has been presented to the President for such removal on the ground of proved misbehaviour or incapacity”[Article 107(2)]. Since this assurance holds good for the entirety of tenure, it follows that the age of retirement should be defined with certainty. This is done by the Constitution itself by the provision that “the age of retirement of judges of the Supreme Court shall be 65 years and of judges of the Court of Appeal shall be 63 years”[Article 107(5)].

II. A Proposal for Reform

This provision has been in force ever since the commencement of the Constitution. Significant public interest, therefore, has been aroused by the lead story in a newspaper, Anidda of 13 March, that the government is proposing to extend the term of office of judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal by a period of two years.

This proposal, if indeed it reflects the thinking of the government, is deeply disturbing from the standpoint of policy, and gives rise to grave consequences. The courts operating at the apex of the judicial structure are called upon to do justice between citizens and also between the state and members of the public. It is an indispensable principle governing the administration of justice that not the slightest shadow of doubt should arise in the public mind regarding the absolute objectivity and impartiality with which the courts approach this task.

What is proposed, if the newspaper report is authentic, is to confer on judges of two particular courts, the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal, a substantial benefit or advantage in the form of extension of their years of service. The question is whether the implications of this initiative are healthy for the administration of justice.

III. Governing Considerations of Policy

What is at stake is a principle intuitively identified as a pillar of justice.

Reflecting firm convictions, the legal antecedents reiterate the established position with remarkable emphasis. The classical exposition of the seminal standard is, of course, the pronouncement by Lord Hewart: “It is not merely of some importance, but is of fundamental importance that justice should not only be done, but should manifestly and undoubtedly be seen to be done”. (Rex v. Sussex Justices, ex parte McCarthy). The underlying principle is that perception is no less important than reality. The mere appearance of partiality has been held to vitiate proceedings: Dissanayake v. Kaleel. In particular, reasonableness of apprehension in the mind of the parties to litigation is critical: Ranjit Thakur v. Union of India, a reasonable likelihood of bias being necessarily fatal (Manak Lal v. Prem Chaud Singhvi).

The overriding factor is unshaken public confidence in the judiciary: State of West Bengal v. Shivananda Pathak. The decision must be “demonstrably” (Saleem Marsoof J.) fair. The Bar Association of Sri Lanka has rightly declared: “The authority of the judiciary ultimately depends on the trust reposed in it by the people, which is sustained only when justice is administered in a visibly fair manner”.

Credibility is paramount in this regard. “Justice has to be seen to be believed” (J.B. Morton). Legality of the outcome is not decisive; process is of equal consequence. Judicial decisions, then, must withstand public scrutiny, not merely legal technicality: Mark Fernando J. in the Jana Ghosha case. Conceived as continuing vitality of natural justice principles, these are integral to justice itself: Samarawickrema J. in Fernando v. Attorney General. Institutional integrity depends on eliminating even the appearance of partiality (Mandal Vikas Nigam Ltd. v. Girja Shankar Pant), and “open justice is the cornerstone of our judicial system”: (Sahara India Real Estate Corporation Ltd. v. SEBI).

IV. Practical Constraints

Apart from these compelling considerations of policy, there are practical aspects which call for serious consideration. The effect of the proposal is that, among all judges operating at different levels in the judicature of Sri Lanka, judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal only, to the exclusion of all other judges, are singled out as the beneficiaries of the proposal. An inevitable result is that High Court and District Judges and Magistrates will find their avenues of promotion seriously impeded by the unexpected lengthening of the periods of service of currently serving judges in the two apex courts. Consequently, they will be required to retire at a point of time appreciably earlier than they had anticipated to relinquish judicial office because the prospect of promotion to higher courts, entailing higher age limits for retirement, is precipitately withdrawn. Some degree of demotivation, arising from denial of legitimate expectation, is therefore to be expected.

A possible response to this obvious problem is a decision to make the two-year extension applicable to all judicial officers, rather than confining it to judges of the two highest courts. This would solve the problem of disillusionment at lower levels of the judiciary, but other issues, clearly serious in their impact, will naturally arise.

Public service structures, to be equitable and effective, must be founded on principles of non-discrimination in respect of service conditions and related matters. Arbitrary or invidious treatment is destructive of this purpose. In determining the age of retirement of judges of the Supreme Court and the Court of Appeal, some attention has been properly paid to balance and consistency. The age of retirement of a Supreme Court judge is on par with that applicable to university professors and academic staff in the higher education system. They all retire at 65 years. Members of the public service, generally, retire at 60. Medical specialists retire at 63, with the possibility of extension in special circumstances to 65. The age of retirement for High Court Judges is 61, and for Magistrates and District Judges 60. It may be noted that the policy change in 2022 aimed at specifically addressing the issue of uniformity and compatibility.

If, then, an attempt is made to carve out an ad hoc principle strictly limited to judicial officers, not admitting of a self-evident rationale, the question would inevitably arise whether this is fair by other categories of the public service and whether the latter would not entertain a justifiable sense of grievance.

This is not merely a moral or ethical issue relating to motivation and fulfillment within the public service, but it could potentially give rise to critical legal issues. It is certainly arguable that the proposed course of action represents an infringement of the postulate of equality of treatment, and non-discrimination, enshrined in Article 12(1) of the Constitution.

There would, as well, be the awkward situation that this issue, almost certain to be raised, would then have to be adjudicated upon by the Supreme Court, itself the direct and exclusive beneficiary of the impugned measure.

V. Piecemeal Amendment or an Overall Approach?

If innovation on these lines is contemplated, would it not be desirable to take up the issue as part of the new Constitution, which the government has pledged to formulate and enact, rather than as a piecemeal amendment at this moment to the existing Constitution? After all, Chapter XV, dealing with the Judiciary, contains provisions interlinked with other salient features of the Constitution, and an integrated approach would seem preferable.

VI. Conclusion

In sum, then, it is submitted that the proposed change is injurious to the institutional integrity of the judiciary and to the prestige and stature of judges, and that it should not be implemented without full consideration of all the issues involved.

By Professor G. L. Peiris
D. Phil. (Oxford), Ph. D. (Sri Lanka);
Former Minister of Justice, Constitutional Affairs and National Integration;
Quondam Visiting Fellow of the Universities of Oxford, Cambridge and London;
Former Vice-Chancellor and Emeritus Professor of Law of the University of Colombo.

Features

Ranked 134th in Happiness: Rethinking Sri Lanka’s development through happiness, youth wellbeing and resilience

Published

12 hours ago

2026/04/6

Thilina Walpola

In recent years, Sri Lanka has experienced a succession of overlapping challenges that have tested its resilience. Cyclone Ditwah struck Sri Lanka in November last year, significantly disrupting the normal lives of its citizens. The infrastructure damage is much more serious than the tsunami. According to World Bank reports and preliminary estimates, the losses amounted to approximately US$ 4.1 billion, nearly 4 per cent of the country’s Gross Domestic Product. Before taking a break from that, the emerging crisis in the Middle East has once again raised concerns about potential economic repercussions. In particular, those already affected by disasters such as Cyclone Ditwah risk falling “from the frying pan into the fire,” facing multiple hardships simultaneously. Currently, we see fuel prices rising, four-day workweeks, a higher cost of living, increased pressure on household incomes, and a reduction in the overall standard of living for ordinary citizens. It would certainly affect people’s happiness. As human beings, we naturally aspire to live happy and fulfilling lives. At a time when the world is increasingly talking about happiness and wellbeing, the World Happiness Report provides a useful way of looking at how countries are doing. The World Happiness Report discusses global well-being and offers strategies to improve it. The report is produced annually with contributions from the University of Oxford’s Wellbeing Research Centre, Gallup, the UN Sustainable Development Solutions Network, and other stakeholders. There are many variables taken into consideration for the index, including the core measure (Cantril Ladder) and six explanatory variables (GDP per Capita ,Social Support,Healthy Life Expectancy,Freedom to Make Life Choices,Generosity,Perceptions of Corruption), with a final comparison.

According to the recently published World Happiness Report 2026, Sri Lanka ranks 134th out of 147 nations. As per the report, this is the first time that Sri Lanka has suffered such a decline. Sri Lanka currently trails behind most of its South Asian neighbours in the happiness index. The World Happiness Report 2026 attributes Sri Lanka’s low ranking (134th) to a combination of persistent economic struggles, social challenges, and modern pressures on younger generations. The 2026 report specifically noted that excessive social media use is a growing factor contributing to declining life satisfaction among young people globally, including in Sri Lanka. This calls for greater vigilance and careful reflection. These concerns should be examined alongside key observations, particularly in the context of education reforms in Sri Lanka, which must look beyond their immediate scope and engage more meaningfully with the country’s future.

In recent years, a series of events has triggered political upheaval in countries such as Nepal, characterised by widespread protests, government collapse, and the emergence of interim administration. Most reports and news outlets described this as “Gen Z protests.” First, we need to understand what Generation Z is and its key attributes. Born between 1997 and 2012, Generation Z represents the first truly “digital native” generation—raised not just with the internet, but immersed in it. Their lives revolve around digital ecosystems: TikTok sets cultural trends, Instagram fuels discovery, YouTube delivers learning, and WhatsApp sustains peer communities. This constant, feed-driven engagement shapes not only how they consume content but how they think, act, and spend. Tech-savvy and socially aware, Gen Z holds brands to a higher standard. For them, authenticity, transparency, and accountability—especially on environmental and ethical issues—aren’t marketing tools; they’re baseline expectations. We can also observe instances of them becoming unnecessarily arrogant in making quick decisions and becoming tools of some harmful anti-social ideological groups. However, we must understand that any generation should have proper education about certain aspects of the normal world, such as respecting others, listening to others, and living well. More interestingly, a global survey by the McKinsey Health Institute, covering 42,083 people across 26 countries, finds that Gen Z reports poorer mental health than older cohorts and is more likely to perceive social media as harmful.

Youth health behaviour in Sri Lanka reveals growing concerns in mental health and wellbeing. Around 18% of youth (here, school-going adolescents aged 13-17) experience depression, 22.4% feel lonely, and 11.9% struggle with sleep due to worry, with issues rising alongside digital exposure. Suicide-related risks are significant, with notable proportions reporting thoughts, plans, and attempts, particularly among females. Bullying remains a significant concern, particularly among males, with cyberbullying emerging as a notable issue. At the same time, substance use is increasing, including tobacco, smokeless tobacco, and e-cigarettes. These trends highlight the urgent need for targeted interventions to support youth mental health, resilience, and healthier behavioural outcomes in Sri Lanka. We need to create a forum in Sri Lanka to keep young people informed about this. Sri Lanka can designate a date (like April 25th) as a National Youth Empowerment Day to strengthen youth mental health and suicide prevention efforts. This should be supported by a comprehensive, multi-sectoral strategy aligned with basic global guidelines. Key priorities include school-based emotional learning, counselling services, and mental health training for teachers and parents. Strengthening data systems, reducing access to harmful means, and promoting responsible media reporting are essential. Empowering families and communities through awareness and digital tools will ensure this day becomes a meaningful national call to action.

As discussed earlier, Sri Lanka must carefully understand and respond to the challenges arising from its ongoing changes. Sri Lanka should establish an immediate task force comprising responsible stakeholders to engage in discussions on ongoing concerns. Recognising that it is not a comprehensive solution, the World Happiness Index can nevertheless act as an important indicator in guiding a paradigm shift in how we approach education and economic development. For a country seeking to reposition itself globally, Sri Lanka must adopt stronger, more effective strategies across multiple sectors. Building a resilient and prosperous future requires sound policymaking and clear strategic direction.

(The writer is a Professor in Management Studies at the Open University of Sri Lanka. You can reach Professor Abeysekera via nabey@ou.ac.lk)

by Prof. Nalin Abeysekera

Features

Hidden diversity in Sri Lanka’s killifish revealed: New study reshapes understanding of island’s freshwater biodiversity

Published

12 hours ago

2026/04/6

Thilina Walpola

Aplocheilus parvus

A groundbreaking new study led by an international team of scientists, including Sri Lankan researcher Tharindu Ranasinghe, has uncovered striking genetic distinctions in two closely related killifish species—reshaping long-standing assumptions about freshwater biodiversity shared between Sri Lanka and India.

Published recently in Zootaxa, the research brings together leading ichthyologists such as Hiranya Sudasinghe, Madhava Meegaskumbura, Neelesh Dahanukar and Rajeev Raghavan, alongside other regional experts, highlighting a growing South Asian collaboration in biodiversity science.

For decades, scientists debated whether Aplocheilus blockii and Aplocheilus parvus were in fact the same species. But the new genetic analysis confirms they are “distinct, reciprocally monophyletic sister species,” providing long-awaited clarity to their taxonomic identity.

Speaking to The Island, Ranasinghe said the findings underscore the hidden complexity of Sri Lanka’s freshwater ecosystems.

“What appears superficially similar can be genetically very different,” he noted. “Our study shows that even widespread, common-looking species can hold deep evolutionary histories that we are only now beginning to understand.”

A tale of two fishes

The study reveals that Aplocheilus blockii is restricted to peninsular India, while Aplocheilus parvus occurs both in southern India and across Sri Lanka’s lowland wetlands.

Despite their close relationship, the two species show clear genetic separation, with a measurable “genetic gap” distinguishing them. Subtle physical differences—such as the pattern of iridescent scales—also help scientists tell them apart.

Co-author Sudasinghe, who has led several landmark studies on Sri Lankan freshwater fishes, noted that such integrative approaches combining genetics and morphology are redefining taxonomy in the region.

Echoes of ancient land bridges

The findings also shed light on the ancient biogeographic links between Sri Lanka and India.

Scientists believe that during periods of low sea levels in the past, the two landmasses were connected by the now-submerged Palk Isthmus, allowing freshwater species to move between them.

Later, rising seas severed this connection, isolating populations and driving genetic divergence.

“These fishes likely dispersed between India and Sri Lanka when the land bridge existed,” Ranasinghe said. “Subsequent isolation has resulted in the patterns of genetic structure we see today.”

Meegaskumbura emphasised that such patterns are increasingly being observed across multiple freshwater fish groups in Sri Lanka, pointing to a shared evolutionary history shaped by geography and climate.

A deeper genetic divide

One of the study’s most striking findings is that Sri Lankan populations of A. parvus are genetically distinct from those in India, with no shared haplotypes between the two regions.

Dahanukar explained that this level of differentiation, despite relatively recent geological separation, highlights how quickly freshwater species can diverge when isolated.

Meanwhile, Raghavan pointed out that these findings reinforce the importance of conserving habitats across both countries, as each region harbours unique genetic diversity.

Implications for conservation

The study carries important implications for conservation, particularly in a country like Sri Lanka where freshwater ecosystems are under increasing pressure from development, pollution, and climate change.

Ranasinghe stressed that understanding genetic diversity is key to protecting species effectively.

“If we treat all populations as identical, we risk losing unique genetic lineages,” he warned. “Conservation planning must recognise these hidden differences.”

Sri Lanka is already recognised as a global biodiversity hotspot, but studies like this suggest that its biological richness may be even greater than previously thought.

A broader scientific shift

The research also contributes to a growing body of work by scientists such as Sudasinghe and Meegaskumbura, challenging traditional assumptions about species distributions in the region.

Earlier studies often assumed that many freshwater fish species were shared uniformly between India and Sri Lanka. However, modern genetic tools are revealing a far more complex picture—one shaped by ancient geography, climatic shifts, and evolutionary processes.

“We are moving from a simplistic view of biodiversity to a much more nuanced understanding,” Ranasinghe said. “And Sri Lanka is proving to be a fascinating natural laboratory for this kind of research.”

Looking ahead

The researchers emphasise that much remains to be explored, with several freshwater fish groups in Sri Lanka still poorly understood at the genetic level.

For Sri Lanka, the message is clear: beneath its rivers, tanks, and wetlands lies a largely untapped reservoir of evolutionary history.

As Ranasinghe puts it:

“Every stream could hold a story of millions of years in the making. We are only just beginning to read them.”

By Ifham Nizam