Features
Sinharaja and the Cultural traingle
Excerpted from Rajiva Wijesinha’s Exploring with Ena
In 1983 I did not know what to expect from Ena. We went up by bus, me and Nigel Hatch who was a regular companion in those days. He was a tower of support in those difficult days and was great fun too on trips, game for any adventure as I had found when I took him along with my old friend from Oxford, Gillian Peele, on a delightful tour over the Christmas holidays
Within a few minutes of us arriving at Aluwihare, Ena asked whether we were willing to go off to the Sinharaja early next morning. There was no reason to refuse and so, after a fantastic dinner, the first of many, we were woken up at 2 am for the expedition, also the first of many.
Ena had a double cab which Sena drove. Apart from her and me and Nigel we also took along Suja her cook, and one of the girls from the Centre, Suwineetha, who was herself an Aluwihare, a retainer called Perumal and a dogsbody called Mani. This last travelled on top of the van most of the time for there was no room for him at the back, packed as it was with loads of supplies.
We drove through the night, not quite sure of our route, but after much cogitation over a map we managed to arrive at the entrance to the Sinharaja by mid-morning. There we found that we needed to have a permit. Things had clearly changed since the days when Ena had been an honoured friend of the Wild Life Department, but they did let us in for a brief walk. This was not however very productive so, after an hour or so, we decided to resume our journey and explore some more.
It was my suggestion that we go on to Deniyaya. I had heard. of the Hayes-Lauderdale Road and its scenic beauty, and Ena was quite happy to revive ancient memories. So off we went, lumbering along in the laden pick up, and night fell and lights started twinkling in the distance, and each town we arrived at turned out to be merely a village. It was around 9 pm when we finally got to the Resthouse at Deniyaya, only to find it full. The keeper took pity on us however, and said he had one large if decrepit room at the back which we were welcome to have.
So we spent the night there all together, Ena and Nigel and me and Suwineetha and Suja, and several dogs that crept in for warmth in the course of the night, as did Sena. He was far too distinguished to spend the night in the van as Perumal and Mani did. We were given a good dinner, and an excellent breakfast too, and were able to admire the fantastic view across the valley from what must be one of the best situated Resthouses in the country.
The next day was what cemented the friendship. I found Ena as keen as I have always been never to retrace footsteps, so we found another route back, across Sooriyakanda and Embilipitya. We decided then to have lunch at the Walawe reservoir and settled down there while Suja cooked a fantastic meal on a hearth she made up amidst the trees on the bank of the lapping waters. Nigel decided he would fish in emulation of the villagers and actually caught a few small creatures which were added to the meal.
Ena and I lay on the loungers she had brought along and continued to talk. We talked about her youth and her elopement, about Ossie’s DIGs and the coup of 1962, about S. Thomas’ and her relations, and everything else in the world. We continued to talk as we travelled on after that idyllic lunch, taking the road over the hills from Balangoda through Bogawantalawa. This was an indulgence which I had craved since, three years earlier, travelling with some friends from England, we had gone on this route against the better judgment of the driver and got stuck at a stream which was gushing too deep to ford. We had had to spend the whole night in the car, arriving at the estate in Dickoya we were due at after the waters subsided in the morning.
I wanted to prove that the route was not a bad one, and it certainly satisfied Ena’s and my craving for continuing adventure. Once more night fell and lights twinkled in the valleys, and we drove on and talked on while Nigel slept. We stopped on the way at the Bogawantalawa Resthouse, where some enthusiastic boys produced the worst coffee I had ever drunk — until the experience was repeated a year later, at mother Resthouse, at Vakarai, at which point we recognized the boys who had been transferred by then to the East.
Before the journey ended we had another epiphany. It was Wesak and as we passed through Geli Oya, between Gampola and Kandy, we saw the whole town celebrating, or rather all its young men, dancing vigorously in the middle of the road. It was an enchanting sight, even though it slowed us up considerably, Sena having to navigate very carefully, whilst the enthusiastic youngsters teased him by refusing to go out of the way, even while their grins as he shook his hoary locks made it clear they knew exactly how irritated he was becoming.
But we forgave them easily, and for Ena and me it was a sight we talked of for years, in reflecting about life in rural areas. It brought to her mind, she said, Ossie’s efforts to engage the police in community development, for he had told her how dull were the lives of the villagers and how it was important to provide them with entertainment and additional occupation.
We reached Alu well after midnight, two full days after we had set out, on what I still think of as one of the most important portant journeys I took in Sri Lanka. We had to leave the next day, but clearly this was a show that would continue to run. I had a friend coming out from England in July, and obviously Alu was the best place to which to bring him, not only to explore the ancient cities, but also if possible to do a loaf, as we thought of the journeys into unknown distances we booth relished so much. I had found a soulmate, and I belive Ena felt the same.
So when Nick, one of my best friends at Oxford during my last couple of years, arrived in early July to stay for three or four weeks, staying with Ena was a priority. Apart from that I had a very full programme arranged for him, beginning with the launch on the evening he landed of The New Lankan Review. I had decided to start the journal when Richard de Zoysa and I found ourselves out of jobs after being sacked from S. Thomas’ and occupied ourselves with teaching at a house in 8th Lane which my father looked after.
We wrote a lot while waiting for our pupils, while I had become familiar with the writings in English of other Sri Lankans for I had a radio programme to introduce poetry and prose which Richard would read. Those were days in which the social and academic elite looked down on Sri Lankans writing in English, and I believe my publishing some of this in the New Lankan Review, which I continued with for seven years more, proved a vital influence in making such writing acceptable.
I knew Ena would enjoy that first volume, not least for its account of my adventures at S. Thomas’ which I had called ‘Slippery Pantaloons’, since previously she had been overwhelmed by the criticisms of her sister and others who had heard only the other side of the story. But she was as interested in the creative writing, appreciative of the work of older polished writers such as Alfreda de Silva and Anne Ranasinghe but, like me, relishing most the sheer energy of Jean Arasanayagam. And over the years Ena and I would discuss avidly, which I could not do with my other relations, the writings I published.
Nick and I went up soon after the launch to Aluwihare, for me to present Ena with her copy of the Review, talk about which must have bored Nick silly over the next few days. Our first excursion from there was to Polonnaruwa, and I still remember our pre-dawn start which allowed for breakfast on the banks of the Parakrama Samudraya before exploration of the sites. We had a long day thereafter, though with a break for lunch, lying under massive shady trees while the waters lapped at our side. Ena paced herself sensibly, getting down only at places she particularly relished, avoiding the sun as much as possible.
I was reminded of that first visit nearly a decade later, when I took her to see Polonnaruwa lit up at night through a project I administered for the British Council. It had been designed to develop the place as a site for night visits, to encourage tourists to stay in the area, whereas they were used to travelling from the bigger hotels some distance away on day trips. Sadly the Cultural Triangle administration was not able to focus on this aspect, a problem I found endemic in Sri Lanka, since planning so as to involve a number of different agencies and aspects was almost impossible.
The Cultural Triangle made up for this deficiency however by unstinted graciousness in agreeing to command performances for anyone we suggested. I did not quite think it correct to ask for one for my aunt, but I thought it would be acceptable when the mother of Scott Richards, who had done much work for us at the British Council, was visiting. My good friend Nirmali Hettiarachchi, who had also done much work for the Council, was with us too that evening, February 14, 1991, and we had a delightful time watching Fria and another formidable old lady working out how to cope with each other.
Those nights were magical. The Consultant we had hired had a most fantastic eye, for stone as well as for greenery, and he lit his subjects up in different ways, bright focus on gateways and statues in some temples, highlighting of columns and carvings in the central area of image houses, spotlights from amidst greenery on the looming palace. Ena walked more than she had done for years amongst the ruins, and was also deeply appreciative of the fact that the Gal Vihare, one of the most impressive sights anywhere in the world, had not been obtrusively highlighted.
The Project had also included work at Anuradhapura, and I remember dropping in with Ena one morning on Raymond Allchin, an old and distinguished and self-opinionated British archaeologist who was working on site there. Not entirely absurdly, he felt that the Triangle was not spending enough time and money on careful analysis based on field work, but his patronizing approach had to yield to Ena’s long-standing familiarity with the site.
I only realized then, as she talked of the times she had spent there when her father was Government Agent, the comprehensive role such officials played in the days before increasing specialization led to restrictive compartmentalization. Obviously we cannot go back to the days of gifted amateurs, but it is a pity that the wide-ranging interests and commitment of officials of an earlier era, based on a strong sense of responsibility, cannot be revived.
The encounter with Allchin was in July 1990, when I was administering two programmes for the British Council that involved travel in Ena’s vicinity. One was the Cultural Triangle project, another was to provide furniture to schools. This had originally been for rehabilitation work in the North and East after the 1987 Peace Accord, but when war broke out again we could not continue to work in the three Districts originally selected, Vavuniya and Trincomalee and Amparai.
But we convinced the British Overseas Development Administration that they should allow the money to be spent in neighbouring Districts that had been affected by the war. In addition to Amparai I proposed Matale and Matara, both of which were areas I loved, and had good reason to visit. Matale was ideal for the entire Cultural Triangle, and I had spent the Thursday I left Colombo looking at what our Consultants had done with the Queen’s Bath and the proposed Interpretation Centre in Kandy, before going on to inspect furniture in nine schools in the Matale District. And then I stayed at Alu and Ena accompanied me to Anuradhapura next day to see Allchin and his protege Robin Coningham. But the best part of that day was having on the shores of the Basavakkulama Tank the picnic lunch which Ena had packed for us.
Features
When floods strike: How nations keep food on the table
Insights from global adaptation strategies
Sri Lanka has been heavily affected by floods, and extreme flooding is rapidly becoming one of the most disruptive climate hazards worldwide. The consequences extend far beyond damaged infrastructure and displaced communities. The food systems and supply networks are among the hardest hit. Floods disrupt food systems through multiple pathways. Croplands are submerged, livestock are lost, and soils become degraded due to erosion or sediment deposition. Infrastructural facilities like roads, bridges, retail shops, storage warehouses, and sales centres are damaged or rendered inaccessible. Without functioning food supply networks, even unaffected food-producing regions struggle to continue daily lives in such disasters. Poor households, particularly those dependent on farming or informal rural economies, face sharp food price increases and income loss, increasing vulnerability and food insecurity.
Many countries now recognie that traditional emergency responses alone are no longer enough. Instead, they are adopting a combination of short-term stabilisation measures and long-term strategies to strengthen food supply chains against recurrent floods. The most common immediate response is the provision of emergency food and cash assistance. Governments, the World Food Programme, and other humanitarian organisations often deliver food, ready-to-eat rations, livestock feed, and livelihood support to affected communities.
Alongside these immediate measures, some nations are implementing long-term strategic actions. These include technology- and data-driven approaches to improve flood preparedness. Early warning systems, using satellite data, hydrological models, and advanced weather forecasting, allow farmers and supply chain operators to prepare for potential disruptions. Digital platforms provide market intelligence, logistics updates, and risk notifications to producers, wholesalers, and transporters. This article highlights examples of such strategies from countries that experience frequent flooding.
China: Grain Reserves and Strategic Preparedness
China maintains a large strategic grain reserve system for rice, wheat, and maize; managed by NFSRA-National Food and Strategic Reserves Administration and Sinograin (China Grain Reserves Corporation (Sinograin Group), funded by the Chinese government, that underpins national food security and enables macro-control of markets during supply shocks. Moreover, improvements in supply chain digitization and hydrological monitoring, the country has strengthened its ability to maintain stable food availability during extreme weather events.
Bangladesh: Turning Vulnerability into Resilience
In recent years, Bangladesh has stood out as one of the world’s most flood-exposed countries, yet it has successfully turned vulnerability into adaptive resilience. Floating agriculture, flood-tolerant rice varieties, and community-run grain reserves now help stabilise food supplies when farmland is submerged. Investments in early-warning systems and river-basin management have further reduced crop losses and protected rural livelihoods.
Netherlands, Japan: High-Tech Models of Flood Resilience
The Netherlands offers a highly technical model. After catastrophic flooding in 1953, the country completely redesigned its water governance approach. Farmland is protected behind sea barriers, rivers are carefully controlled, and land-use zoning is adaptive. Vertical farming and climate-controlled greenhouses ensure year-round food production, even during extreme events. Japan provides another example of diversified flood resilience. Following repeated typhoon-induced floods, the country shifted toward protected agriculture, insurance-backed farming, and automated logistics systems. Cold storage networks and digital supply tracking ensure that food continues to reach consumers, even when roads are cut off. While these strategies require significant capital and investment, their gradual implementation provides substantial long-term benefits.
Pakistan, Thailand, Indonesia, and Vietnam: Reform in Response to Recurrent Floods
In contrast, Pakistan and Thailand illustrate both the consequences of climate vulnerability and the benefits of proactive reform. The 2022 floods in Pakistan submerged about one-third of the country, destroying crops and disrupting trade networks. In response, the country has placed greater emphasis on climate-resilient farming, water governance reforms, and satellite-based crop monitoring. Pakistan as well as India is promoting crop diversification and adjusting planting schedules to help farmers avoid the peak monsoon flood periods.
Thailand has invested in flood zoning and improved farm infrastructure that keep markets supplied even during severe flooding. Meanwhile, Indonesia and Vietnam are actively advancing flood-adapted land-use planning and climate-resilient agriculture. For instance, In Vietnam’s Mekong Delta, pilot projects integrate flood-risk mapping, adaptive cropping strategies, and ecosystem-based approaches to reduce vulnerability in agricultural and distribution areas. In Indonesia, government-supported initiatives and regional projects are strengthening flood-risk-informed spatial planning, adaptive farming practices, and community-based water management to improve resilience in flood-prone regions. (See Figure 1)
The Global Lesson: Resilience Requires Early Investment
The global evidence is clear: countries that invest early in climate-adaptive agriculture and resilient logistics are better able to feed their populations, even during extreme floods. Building a resilient future depends not only on how we grow food but also on how we protect, store, and transport it. Strengthening infrastructure is therefore central to stabilising food supply chains while maintaining food quality, even during prolonged disruptions. Resilient storage systems, regional grain reserves, efficient cold chains, improved farming infrastructure, and digital supply mapping help reduce panic buying, food waste, and price shocks after floods, while ensuring that production capacity remains secure.
Persistent Challenges
However, despite these advances, many flood-exposed countries still face significant challenges. Resources are often insufficient to upgrade infrastructure or support vulnerable rural populations. Institutional coordination across the agriculture, disaster management, transport, and environmental sectors remains weak. Moreover, the frequency and scale of climate-driven floods are exceeding the design limits of older disaster-planning frameworks. As a result, the gap between exposure and resilience continues to widen. These challenges are highly relevant to Sri Lanka as well and require deliberate, gradual efforts to phase them out.
The Role of International Trade and global markets
When domestic production falls in such situations, international trade serves as an important buffer. When domestic production is temporarily reduced, imports and regional trade flows can help stabilise food availability. Such examples are available from other countries. For instance, In October 2024, floods in Bangladesh reportedly destroyed about 1.1 million tonnes of rice. In response, the government moved to import large volumes of rice and allowed accelerated or private-sector imports of rice to stabilize supply and curb food price inflation. This demonstrates how, when domestic production fails, international trade/livestock/food imports (from trade partners) acted as a crucial buffer to ensure availability of staple food for the population. However, this approach relies on well-functioning global markets, strong diplomatic relationships, and adequate foreign exchange, making it less reliable for economically fragile nations. For example, importing frozen vegetables to Sri Lanka from other countries can help address supply shortages, but considerations such as affordability, proper storage and selling mechanisms, cooking guidance, and nutritional benefits are essential, especially when these foods are not widely familiar to local populations.
Marketing and Distribution Strategies during Floods
Ensuring that food reaches consumers during floods requires innovative marketing and distribution strategies that address both supply- and demand-side challenges. Short-term interventions often include direct cash or food transfers, mobile markets, and temporary distribution centres in areas where conventional marketplaces become inaccessible. Price stabilisation measures, such as temporary caps or subsidies on staple foods, help prevent sharp inflation and protect vulnerable households. Awareness campaigns also play a role by educating consumers on safe storage, cooking methods, and the nutritional value of unfamiliar imported items, helping sustain effective demand.
Some countries have integrated technology to support these efforts; in this regard, adaptive supply chain strategies are increasingly used. Digital platforms provide farmers, wholesalers, and retailers with real-time market information, logistics updates, and flood-risk alerts, enabling them to reroute deliveries or adjust production schedules. Diversified delivery routes, using alternative roads, river transport, drones, or mobile cold-storage units, have proven essential for maintaining the flow of perishable goods such as vegetables, dairy, and frozen products. A notable example is Japan, where automated logistics systems and advanced cold-storage networks help keep supermarkets stocked even during severe typhoon-induced flooding.
The Importance of Research, Coordination, and Long-Term Commitment
Global experience also shows that research and development, strong institutional coordination, and sustained national commitment are fundamental pillars of flood-resilient food systems. Countries that have successfully reduced the impacts of recurrent floods consistently invest in agricultural innovation, cross-sector collaboration, and long-term planning.
Awareness Leads to Preparedness
As the summary, global evidence shows that countries that act early, plan strategically, and invest in resilience can protect both people and food systems. As Sri Lanka considers long-term strategies for food security under climate change, learning from flood-affected nations can help guide policy, planning, and public understanding. Awareness is the first step which preparedness must follow. These international experiences offer valuable lessons on how to protect food systems through proactive planning and integrated actions.
(Premaratne (BSc, MPhil, LLB) isSenior Lecturer in Agricultural Economics Department of Agricultural Systems, Faculty of Agriculture, Rajarata University. Views are personal.)
Key References·
Cabinet Secretariat, Government of Japan, 2021. Fundamental Plan for National Resilience – Food, Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries / Logistics & Food Supply Chains. Tokyo: Cabinet Secretariat.
· Delta Programme Commissioner, 2022. Delta Programme 2023 (English – Print Version). The Hague: Netherlands Delta Programme.
· Hasanuddin University, 2025. ‘Sustainable resilience in flood-prone rice farming: adaptive strategies and risk-sharing around Tempe Lake, Indonesia’, Sustainability. Available at: https://www.mdpi.com/2071-1050/17/6/2456 [Accessed 3 December 2025].
· Mekong Urban Flood Resilience and Drainage Programme (TUEWAS), 2019–2021. Integrated urban flood and drainage planning for Mekong cities. TUEWAS / MRC initiative.
· Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Affairs, People’s Republic of China, 2025. ‘China’s summer grain procurement surpasses 50 mln tonnes’, English Ministry website, 4 July.
· National Food and Strategic Reserves Administration (China) 2024, ‘China purchases over 400 mln tonnes of grain in 2023’, GOV.cn, 9 January. Available at: https://english.www.gov.cn/archive/statistics/202401/09/content_WS659d1020c6d0868f4e8e2e46.html
· Pakistan: 2022 Floods Response Plan, 2022. United Nations / Government of Pakistan, UN Digital Library.
· Shigemitsu, M. & Gray, E., 2021. ‘Building the resilience of Japan’s agricultural sector to typhoons and heavy rain’, OECD Food, Agriculture and Fisheries Papers, No. 159. Paris: OECD Publishing.
· UNDP & GCF, 2023. Enhancing Climate Resilience in Thailand through Effective Water Management and Sustainable Agriculture (E WMSA): Project Factsheet. UNDP, Bangkok.
· United Nations Development Programme (UNDP), 2025. ‘Rice Bank revives hope in flood hit hill tracts, Bangladesh’, UNDP, 19 June.
· World Bank, 2022. ‘Bangladesh: World Bank supports food security and higher incomes of farmers vulnerable to climate change’, World Bank press release, 15 March.
Features
Can we forecast weather precisely?
Weather forecasts are useful. People attentively listen to them but complain that they go wrong or are not taken seriously. Forecasts today are more probabilistically reliable than decades ago. The advancement of atmospheric science, satellite imaging, radar maps and instantly updated databases has improved the art of predicting weather.
Yet can we predict weather patterns precisely? A branch of mathematics known as chaos theory says that weather can never be foretold with certainty.
The classical mechanics of Issac Newton governing the motion of all forms of matter, solid, liquid or gaseous, is a deterministic theory. If the initial conditions are known, the behaviour of the system at later instants of time can be precisely predicted. Based on this theory, occurrences of solar eclipses a century later have been predicted to an accuracy of minutes and seconds.
The thinking that the mechanical behaviour of systems in nature could always be accurately predicted based on their state at a previous instant of time was shaken by the work of the genius French Mathematician Henri Poincare (1864- 1902).
Eclipses are predicted with pinpoint accuracy based on analysis of a two-body system (Earth- Moon) governed by Newton’s laws. Poincare found that the equivalent problem of three astronomical bodies cannot be solved exactly – sometimes even the slightest variation of an initial condition yields a drastically different solution.
A profound conclusion was that the behaviour of physical systems governed by deterministic laws does not always allow practically meaningful predictions because even a minute unaccountable change of parameters leads to completely different results.
Until recent times, physicists overlooked Poincare’s work and continued to believe that the determinism of the laws of classical physics would allow them to analyse complex problems and derive future happenings, provided necessary computations are facilitated. When computers became available, the meteorologists conducted simulations aiming for accurate weather forecasting. The American mathematician Edward Lorenz, who turned into a reputed meteorologist, carried out such studies in the early 1960s, arrived at an unexpected result. His equations describing atmospheric dynamics demonstrated a strange behaviour. He found that even a minute change (even one part in a million) in initial parameters leads to a completely different weather pattern in the atmosphere. Lorenz announced his finding saying, A flap of a butterfly wing in one corner of the world could cause a cyclone in a far distant location weeks later! Lorenz’s work opened the way for the development branch of mathematics referred to as chaos theory – an expansion of the idea first disclosed by Henri Poincare.
We understand the dynamics of a cyclone as a giant whirlpool in the atmosphere, how it evolves and the conditions favourable for their origination. They are created as unpredictable thermodynamically favourable relaxation of instabilities in the atmosphere. The fundamental limitations dictated by chaos theory forbid accurate forecasting of the time and point of its appearance and the intensity. Once a cyclone forms, it can be tracked and the path of movement can be grossly ascertained by frequent observations. However, absolutely certain predictions are impossible.
A peculiarity of weather is that the chaotic nature of atmospheric dynamics does not permit ‘long – term’ forecasting with a high degree of certainty. The ‘long-term’ in this context, depending on situation, could be hours, days or weeks. Nonetheless, weather forecasts are invaluable for preparedness and avoiding unlikely, unfortunate events that might befall. A massive reaction to every unlikely event envisaged is also not warranted. Such an attitude leads to social chaos. The society far more complex than weather is heavily susceptible to chaotic phenomena.
by Prof. Kirthi Tennakone (ktenna@yahoo.co.uk)
Features
When the Waters Rise: Floods, Fear and the ancient survivors of Sri Lanka
The water came quietly at first, a steady rise along the riverbanks, familiar to communities who have lived beside Sri Lanka’s great waterways for generations. But within hours, these same rivers had swollen into raging, unpredictable forces. The Kelani Ganga overflowed. The Nilwala broke its margins. The Bentara, Kalu, and Mahaweli formed churning, chocolate-brown channels cutting through thousands of homes.
When the floods finally began to recede, villagers emerged to assess the damage, only to be confronted by another challenge: crocodiles. From Panadura’s back lanes to the suburbs of Colombo, and from the lagoons around Kalutara to the paddy fields of the dry zone, reports poured in of crocodiles resting on bunds, climbing over fences, or drifting silently into garden wells.
For many, these encounters were terrifying. But to Sri Lanka’s top herpetologists, the message was clear: this is what happens when climate extremes collide with shrinking habitats.
“Crocodiles are not invading us … we are invading floodplains”
Sri Lanka’s foremost crocodile expert, Dr. Anslem de Silva, Regional Chairman for South Asia and Iran of the IUCN/SSC Crocodile Specialist Group, has been studying crocodiles for over half a century. His warning is blunt.
“When rivers turn into violent torrents, crocodiles simply seek safety,” he says. “They avoid fast-moving water the same way humans do. During floods, they climb onto land or move into calm backwaters. People must understand this behaviour is natural, not aggressive.”
In the past week alone, Saltwater crocodiles have been sighted entering the Wellawatte Canal, drifting into the Panadura estuary, and appearing unexpectedly along Bolgoda Lake.
“Saltwater crocodiles often get washed out to sea during big floods,” Dr. de Silva explains. “Once the current weakens, they re-enter through the nearest lagoon or canal system. With rapid urbanisation along these waterways, these interactions are now far more visible.”
- An adult Salt Water Crocodile (Crocodylus porosus) (Photo -Madura de Silva)
- Adult Mugger (Crocodylus plaustris) Photo -Laxhman Nadaraja
- A Warning sign board
- A Mugger holding a a large Russell ’s viper (Photo- R. M. Gunasinghe)
- Anslem de Silva
- Suranjan Karunarathna
This clash between wildlife instinct and human expansion forms the backdrop of a crisis now unfolding across the island.
A conflict centuries old—now reshaped by climate change
Sri Lanka’s relationship with crocodiles is older than most of its kingdoms. The Cūḷavaṃsa describes armies halted by “flesh-eating crocodiles.” Ancient medical texts explain crocodile bite treatments. Fishermen and farmers around the Nilwala, Walawe, Maduganga, Batticaloa Lagoon, and Kalu Ganga have long accepted kimbula as part of their environment.
But the modern conflict has intensified dramatically.
A comprehensive countrywide survey by Dr. de Silva recorded 150 human–crocodile attacks, with 50 fatal, between 2008 and 2010. Over 52 percent occurred when people were bathing, and 83 percent of victims were men engaged in routine activities—washing, fishing, or walking along shallow margins.
Researchers consistently emphasise: most attacks happen not because crocodiles are unpredictable, but because humans underestimate them.
Yet this year’s flooding has magnified risks in new ways.
“Floods change everything” — Dr. Nimal D. Rathnayake
Herpetologist Dr. Nimal Rathnayake says the recent deluge cannot be understood in isolation.
“Floodwaters temporarily expand the crocodile’s world,” he says. “Areas people consider safe—paddy boundaries, footpaths, canal edges, abandoned land—suddenly become waterways.”
Once the water retreats, displaced crocodiles may end up in surprising places.
“We’ve documented crocodiles stranded in garden wells, drainage channels, unused culverts and even construction pits. These are not animals trying to attack. They are animals trying to survive.”
According to him, the real crisis is not the crocodile—it is the loss of wetlands, the destruction of natural river buffers, and the pollution of river systems.
“When you fill a marsh, block a canal, or replace vegetation with concrete, you force wildlife into narrower corridors. During floods, these become conflict hotspots.”
Past research by the Crocodile Specialist Group shows that more than 300 crocodiles have been killed in retaliation or for meat over the past decade. Such killings spike after major floods, when fear and misunderstanding are highest.
“Not monsters—ecosystem engineers” — Suranjan Karunaratne
On social media, flood-displaced crocodiles often go viral as “rogue beasts.” But conservationist Suranjan Karunaratne, also of the IUCN/SSC Crocodile Specialist Group, says such narratives are misleading.
“Crocodiles are apex predators shaped by millions of years of evolution,” he says. “They are shy, intelligent animals. The problem is predictable human behaviour.”
In countless attack investigations, Karunaratne and colleagues found a repeated pattern: the Three Sames—the same place, the same time, the same activity.
“People use the same bathing spot every single day. Crocodiles watch, learn, and plan. They hunt with extraordinary patience. When an attack occurs, it’s rarely random. It is the culmination of observation.”
He stresses that crocodiles are indispensable to healthy wetlands. They: control destructive catfish populations, recycle nutrients, clean carcasses and diseased fish, maintain biodiversity, create drought refuges through burrows used by amphibians and reptiles.
“Removing crocodiles destroys an entire chain of ecological services. They are not expendable.”
Karunaratne notes that after the civil conflict, Mugger populations in the north rebounded—proof that crocodiles recover when given space, solitude, and habitat.
Floods expose a neglected truth: CEEs save lives—if maintained In high-risk communities, Crocodile Exclusion Enclosures (CEEs) are often the only physical barrier between people and crocodiles. Built along riverbanks or tanks, these enclosures allow families to bathe, wash, and collect water safely.
Yet Dr. de Silva recounts a tragic incident along the Nilwala River where a girl was killed inside a poorly maintained enclosure. A rusted iron panel had created a hole just large enough for a crocodile to enter.
“CEEs are a life-saving intervention,” he says. “But they must be maintained. A neglected enclosure is worse than none at all.”
Despite their proven effectiveness, many CEEs remain abandoned, broken or unused.
Climate change is reshaping crocodile behaviour—and ours
Sri Lanka’s floods are no longer “cycles” as described in folklore. They are increasingly intense, unpredictable and climate-driven. The warming atmosphere delivers heavier rainfall in short bursts. Deforested hillsides and filled wetlands cannot absorb it.
Rivers swell rapidly and empty violently.
Crocodiles respond as they have always done: by moving to calmer water, by climbing onto land, by using drainage channels, by shifting between lagoons and canals, by following the shape of the water.
But human expansion has filled, blocked, or polluted these escape routes.
What once were crocodile flood refuges—marshes, mangroves, oxbow wetlands and abandoned river channels—are now housing schemes, fisheries, roads, and dumpsites.
Garbage, sand mining and invasive species worsen the crisis
The research contained in the uploaded reports paints a grim but accurate picture. Crocodiles are increasingly seen around garbage dumps, where invasive plants and waste accumulate. Polluted water attracts fish, which in turn draw crocodiles.
Excessive sand mining in river mouths and salinity intrusion expose crocodile nesting habitats. In some areas, agricultural chemicals contaminate wetlands beyond their natural capacity to recover.
In Borupana Ela, a short study found 29 Saltwater crocodiles killed in fishing gear within just 37 days.
Such numbers suggest a structural crisis—not a series of accidents.
Unplanned translocations: a dangerous human mistake
For years, local authorities attempted to reduce conflict by capturing crocodiles and releasing them elsewhere. Experts say this was misguided.
“Most Saltwater crocodiles have homing instincts,” explains Karunaratne. “Australian studies show many return to their original site—even if released dozens of kilometres away.”
Over the past decade, at least 26 Saltwater crocodiles have been released into inland freshwater bodies—home to the Mugger crocodile. This disrupts natural distribution, increases competition, and creates new conflict zones.
Living with crocodiles: a national strategy long overdue
All three experts—Dr. de Silva, Dr. Rathnayake and Karunaratne—agree that Sri Lanka urgently needs a coordinated, national-level mitigation plan.
* Protect natural buffers
Replant mangroves, restore riverine forests, enforce river margin laws.
* Maintain CEEs
They must be inspected, repaired and used regularly.
* Public education
Villagers should learn crocodile behaviour just as they learn about monsoons and tides.
* End harmful translocations
Let crocodiles remain in their natural ranges.
* Improve waste management
Dumps attract crocodiles and invasive species.
* Incentivise community monitoring
Trained local volunteers can track sightings and alert authorities early.
* Integrate crocodile safety into disaster management
Flood briefings should include alerts on reptile movement.
“The floods will come again. Our response must change.”
As the island cleans up and rebuilds, the deeper lesson lies beneath the brown floodwaters. Crocodiles are not new to Sri Lanka—but the conditions we are creating are.
Rivers once buffered by mangroves now rush through concrete channels. Tanks once supporting Mugger populations are choked with invasive plants. Wetlands once absorbing floodwaters are now levelled for construction.
Crocodiles move because the water moves. And the water moves differently today.
Dr. Rathnayake puts it simply:”We cannot treat every flooded crocodile as a threat to be eliminated. These animals are displaced, stressed, and trying to survive.”
Dr. de Silva adds:”Saving humans and saving crocodiles are not competing goals. Both depend on understanding behaviour—ours and theirs.”
And in a closing reflection, Suranjan Karunaratne says:”Crocodiles have survived 250 million years, outliving dinosaurs. Whether they survive the next 50 years in Sri Lanka depends entirely on us.”
For now, as the waters recede and the scars of the floods remain, Sri Lanka faces a choice: coexist with the ancient guardians of its waterways, or push them into extinction through fear, misunderstanding and neglect.
By Ifham Nizam
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