Features
TWO AGELESS AND SPIRITUAL TREES IN THE VILLAGE TANK
Agbo the Tusker, named after nine kings with the same name and presently celebrated as royalty among wild elephants in Sri Lanka, limps as he inches towards the rank grove of Nabada (Vitex leucoxylon) and Kumbuk (Terminalia arjuna) trees seeking shade at the upper section of the Ulagalla tank near Tirappane, in the North Central Province. The much adored and, sadly, injured elephant has chosen this tank and the surrounding area to live alone to escape pestering from macho elephants who stray out from Kalaweva and Mahakanadarawa Forest Reserves.
Hoping to rest, he stops under a large and ailing Nabada tree. Shapeless openings in its midsection show it is hollow. As I shall recount later, according to Sri Lankan history books, a similar tree growing in water at the Doramadalawa tank (Dwaramandalaka in Mahawansa), approximately 20 kilometers north of here, once had royal contact, literally, saving future King Pandukabhaya from certain death when he was still a boyish prince.
I suggest this tree is the Nabada, for no other tree with holes and a tunneled trunk big enough for a boy to hide grows in water in a dry zone tank. The other tree in the grove, the Kumbuk, carries the credentials of being a spiritual tree, as depicted in Buddhist literature.
Unlike the mother of all Sri Lankan trees – the Sri Maha Bodhi Tree (Ficus religiosa) about which written volumes, nothing significant has been recorded about the Nabada and its companion Kumbuk, two large and unassuming trees standing at odd intervals like deformed Doric columns in and around the village tanks, temples of prosperity in the Dry Zone. They also do not possess the pedigree and vanity of showier trees, such as ebony and mahogany in Sri Lanka, or the stately 4,856-year-old Bristlecone pine tree named Methuselah, still surviving in the Eastern California desert. But Nabada and Kumbuk trees are the inseparable violin and the viola in the symphony which I call the part and parcel of the village tank.
The Village Tank is a book of poetry that nurtures fascination and imagination. The two trees in this narrative double this magic by refreshing the equity and appeal surrounding this core asset of the village. As much as it is a repository for lifesaving water for the villagers, the tank hosts an ambiance of beauty rarely surpassed by any other aspect of the village. A part of this setting is the vegetation that abounds in it, both in dry and wet seasons. Nabada and Kumbuk trees lead this parade.
Blood relatives of Nabada and Kumbuk trees grew on the ephemeral stream long before villagers dammed it up, some probably centuries ago, in a process called gambendeema. When the dammed area was inundated, most trees and shrubs trapped in the deluge drowned, leaving their dead branches like skeletons of dinosaurs sticking out in a pond. Nabada and Kumbuk trees, loaded with DNA ready for amphibious life, refused to die and continued to thrive in this new setting.
A Nabada tree will live for hundreds of years. As it grows old, its pith dissolves away, but it still retains enough muscle to hold it standing. A grove of such old and faded trees may give the tank a primitive expression. Some trees refused to move to the water’s edge and remained in the middle like the one Pandukabhaya dived to hide.
They nevertheless hold the Primus position growing on the bund and the tank’s upper reach, called gasgommana or wev-thavulla which are essential ecotones in the larger tank environment. They also grow in the marshy area called kattakaduwa, between paddy fields and homesites called gammedda, and in elangawa, a free-standing forest between two tanks in a cascade of tanks.
Nabada Tree in History
Nabada tree is the ‘elephant in the tank.’ No one notices it out there, right in the open. These trees stand like illustrations of unknown monster animals drawn in ancient maps by medieval cartographers to fill uncharted regions in world. Monsters or not, a verdant mass of green, this tree is there, providing breeding grounds for fish when the tank is full to the brim, and a shady haven for cattle to rest when metallic heat of the unforgiving sun punishes the dusty tank bed during hot months.
The Nabada tree grows in the village tank like an outcast. In a way, it is a good thing. Unlike the Kumbuk tree, which has become a victim of homebuilders who dismantle it to build flavoured steps to reach upstairs rooms, the Nabada tree has never found favor in this convenient therapy in homes or horticulture business in modern times along the borders of expressways.
Genealogic itinerary of these two trees run back in history. Thus, the influence and association of them on villagers’ lives are more pronounced than one thinks. For example, these trees became part of the village nomenclature, showing an instance of interesting footnote in our colonial history.
Until the 19th century, many present-day village tanks had been abandoned, nameless, or derelict. Then, a group of pioneer families looking for a new settlement would descend to such a place and restore the ruined dam through a communal custom called gambendeema.
At the time of entering the details of this project into government records in the early colonial irrigation department, clerks or technical officers, who were mainly Tamils and well-versed in English but less proficient in Sinhala, assigned names to identify these settlements using Tamil words for convenience. These words represented the physical or forestry features found in and around the immediate surroundings of the village. Thus, Nochchikulama, just a kilometer from my village, or Nabadawewa, is an eponym of the Nabada tree. In Tamil, Nochi is Nabada, and Kulam is wewa. Unsurprisingly, even today, Nochchikulama has over a dozen Nabada trees in its tank.
As a side note, as early as 1816, on the Jaffna Peninsula, there were over 600 students enrolled in Wesleyan missionary schools, learning English. Understandably, they got jobs to advance emerging irrigation projects of colonial administration in the Northern Province, which included all the NCP until 1873.
The Sri Lankan chronicle Mahawansa records that Prince Pandukabhaya, who later became the king and ruled Sri Lanka from 307 to 377 BC, was seven years old and in exile in the village of Doramadalawa (Dwaramandalaka in Mahawansa) near Mihintale for fear of being killed by his uncles, who were eyeing the throne in nearby Anuradhapura. One day, while swimming with friends in the village tank, he saw a band of assassins approaching them with swords drawn.
He grabbed his clothes, dived underwater, and headed straight to the hollow section in a tree growing in the water not far from the mankada. He hid there for a while and came out only after the killers had left, thinking that all the boys, including the prince, had been killed, because there were no additional sets of clothes found on the tank bund.
Kumbuk Tree
This tree is a giant, growing over 50 meters tall, supported by a whitish trunk, some of which are about five metres in circumference at their base. A man can easily take cover between its root buttresses.
Around the latter half of the 20th century, when restrictions on harvesting timber in the country began to take effect, carpenters sought alternative sources to supplement their trade. They caught the scent of the Kumbuk tree, and soon the bells of doom for it began to toll, as the phenomenon of timber products harvested from it has become the darlings of carpenters and home builders. The timber of this tree is popular for use in floorboards and treadboards on stairs in multi-story homes. Before the advent of sawmill noise, villagers allowed these trees to mind their own business in the neighborhoods but guarded them with love. Now, they protect them with vigour.
Meanwhile, this tree is a valuable resource for villagers, but not for its timber. They believe the roots of the tree have water-purifying qualities. Before the village had running water, residents did their bathing chores at the naana mankada (bathing ford), where the Kumbuk tree usually provided shade. Women collected drinking water under this tree, which also grew near diya mankada (drinking water ford), located away from the bathing ford. During the dry season, as the water turned to a mustard color, they brought home this water in an earthen pot, rubbed the seeds of the Ingini tree (Strychnos potatorum) on its inner surface, and left it overnight for the muddy residue to settle to the bottom.
The Kumbuk tree is also a popular spot for village children to enjoy fun outings. They climb its lower branches running horizontally over water, and use them as diving platforms. On some days, we sit on a branch of this tree on the edge of the embankment and watch shoals of fish roam around under its shade. A villager hoping to upgrade his dinner menu often comes and sits by this tree, throws a line, and waits for any movement of the floater.
He picked the right place. The tall and partly submerged buttress root system and crevices provide secure nooks for fish to lay eggs and raise their young. Fishermen know that this lure attracts predator fish to hang around under this tree.
The Kumbuk tree invites tranquility and character to the tank and gammedda below the bund. Thus, this tree too became an eponym for some villagers, e.g., Kumbukwewa or Kumbukgate. It also found a niche in Sri Lankan folklore. Henry Parker, an early 20th-century colonial historian and irrigation engineer, heard from villagers the folktale “The Jackal’s Judgment.” A crocodile grabs a man at the foot of the village tank bund. The man then pleads for help from a nearby Kumbuk tree. Without hesitation, the tree tells the crocodile, “Eat him. He cuts the Kumbuk tree branches and takes them home.” The stairs builder, Mr. Carpenter, must read this folktale. If he gets caught in a crocodile’s jaws, the tree might throw out the preamble and say: “Take him home, buddy. It’s your dinner!”
The substantial presence of Nabada and Kumbuk trees on the bund proves that these trees are an integral part of the tank and the village, and are connected to tradition. Contrary to the vile treatment of the Kumbuk tree, it is considered holy in Buddhist culture.
Literature records that two Atawisi Buddhas (28 former Buddhas), Anomadassi and Piyadassi, received enlightenment under a Kumbuk tree. This belief spared it from the axe and adze of man for ages, just like hunters spared the peacock from slaughter because it is venerated as the vehicle of Kataragama Deyyo – Skandha, the guardian deity of Sri Lanka. Thus, at home, each time we walk on the impeccable steps to the upstairs made of Kumbuk planks, we must remind ourselves we are trampling on a sacred tree, and making the village poor with one less tree – both sacrilegious deeds.
Worthy Meeting Place
On the other hand, seeing the Kumbuk trees planted along the roadways is an incredible gift for travelers, and a well-thought-out investment, not for their carpentry potential but for the power of their environmental benefits for years to come.
From its sapling days, I watched the growth of one such linear grove of Kumbuk trees by the side of A9 south of Kekirawa bazaar. Street vendors, who have no seat in the town proper, gather in this grove daily to make a living by hosting a roadside marketplace. A few decades after the trees were introduced, they began to provide a calmer alternative to the hustle and bustle of the nearby town.
Moreover, the Nabada and Kumbuk groves in and around the tank serve as a meeting place for hundreds of aquatic and migratory birds, some of which have adopted it as their permanent or wayside home. During the day, it is their panchayat, the village assembly. They sort out their neighborly affairs and territorial conflicts here. Some work on their tan as you see flocks of black Cormorants do with wings outstretched in the sun while perched atop the canopy after a fishing outing. After nightfall, swarms of fireflies lit up the row of these trees, imitating the blinking bulbs screaming on the pandol carnival on the Wesak city streets.
In the evening, when the darkness creeps in, the Indian Flying Fox bats (Pteropus giganteus) leave the trees for night rounds. On the Nabada and Kumbuk groves by the Nuwara Wewa bund in Anuradhapura, one can hear the pandemonium of screaming birds flying in and joining the fight for room reservations for a good night’s sleep. Those of us who take evening fitness and doctor-advised strolls on the bund, or amorous couples spending the evening away on its embankment have seen the hullabaloo I am writing about.
Whether the tank is full or has gone bone dry, a line of these two trees growing alternately on the botanical horizon along the forest line or along the bund spruces up, adding to the silent grace of the village tank, accentuating a string of diamonds in an empress’s necklace.
Often, when the morning breaks open and the wind dies down, waves in the tank take a recess. Water becomes a sky-blue mirror producing the eternalized reflection of the Kumbuk tree on the edge of the nana mankada. Then, these twins stand ready yearning for a prize-winning photo. I caught that brilliant cadenza of the reflective melody one morning at my village tank. The prosody of that moment was crying to be written. Just staring at that diorama took me to a serene and unclouded moment of reverie.
By Lokubanda Tillakaratne ✍️
Features
The US-China rivalry and challenges facing the South
The US-China rivalry could be said to make-up the ‘stuff and substance’ of world politics today but rarely does the international politics watcher and student of the global South in particular get the opportunity of having a balanced and comprehensive evaluation of this crucial relationship. But such a balanced assessment is vitally instrumental in making sense of current world power relations.
Thanks to the Regional Centre for Strategic Studies (RCSS), Colombo the above window of opportunity was opened on December 8th for those sections of the public zealously pursuing an understanding of current issues in global politics. The knowledge came via a forum that was conducted at the RCSS titled, ‘The US-China Rivalry and Implications for the Indo-Pacific’, where Professor Neil DeVotta of the Wake Forest University of North Carolina in the US, featured as the speaker.
A widely representative audience was present at the forum, including senior public servants, the diplomatic corps, academics, heads of civil society organizations, senior armed forces personnel and the media. The event was ably managed by the Executive Director of the RCSS, retired ambassador Ravinatha Aryasinha. Following the main presentation a lively Q&A session followed, where many a point of interest was aired and discussed.
While there is no doubt that China is fast catching up with the US with regard to particularly military, economic, scientific and technological capability, Prof. DeVotta helped to balance this standard projection of ‘China’s steady rise’ by pointing to some vital facts about China, the omission of which would amount to the observer having a somewhat uninformed perception of global political realities.
The following are some of the facts about contemporary China that were highlighted by Prof. DeVotta:
* Money is steadily moving out of China and the latter’ s economy is slowing down. In fact the country is in a ‘ Middle Income Trap’. That is, it has reached middle income status but has failed to move to upper income status since then.
* People in marked numbers are moving out of China. It is perhaps little known that some Chinese are seeking to enter the US with a view to living there. The fact is that China’s population too is on the decline.
* Although the private sector is operative in China, there has been an increase in Parastatals; that is, commercial organizations run by the state are also very much in the fore. In fact private enterprises have begun to have ruling Communist Party cells in them.
* China is at its ‘peak power’ but this fact may compel it to act ‘aggressively’ in the international sphere. For instance, it may be compelled to invade Taiwan.
* A Hard Authoritarianism could be said to characterize central power in China today, whereas the expectation in some quarters is that it would shift to a Soft Authoritarian system, as is the case in Singapore.
* China’s influence in the West is greater than it has ever been.
The speaker was equally revelatory about the US today. Just a few of these observations are:
* The US is in a ‘Unipolar Moment’. That is, it is the world’s prime power. Such positions are usually not longstanding but in the case of the US this position has been enjoyed by it for quite a while.
* China is seen by the US as a ‘Revisionist Power’ as opposed to being a ‘Status Quo Power.’ That is China is for changing the world system slowly.
* The US in its latest national security strategy is paying little attention to Soft Power as opposed to Hard Power.
* In terms of this strategy the US would not allow any single country to dominate the Asia-Pacific region.
* The overall tone of this strategy is that the US should step back and allow regional powers to play a greater role in international politics.
* The strategy also holds that the US must improve economic ties with India, but there is very little mention of China in the plan.
Given these observations on the current international situation, a matter of the foremost importance for the economically weakest countries of the South is to figure out how best they could survive materially within it. Today there is no cohesive and vibrant collective organization that could work towards the best interests of the developing world and Dr. DeVotta was more or less correct when he said that the Non-alignment Movement (NAM) has declined.
However, this columnist is of the view that rather being a spent force, NAM was allowed to die out by the South. NAM as an idea could never become extinct as long as economic and material inequalities between North and South exist. Needless to say, this situation is remaining unchanged since the eighties when NAM allowed itself to be a non-entity so to speak in world affairs.
The majority of Southern countries did not do themselves any good by uncritically embracing the ‘market economy’ as a panacea for their ills. As has been proved, this growth paradigm only aggravated the South’s development ills, except for a few states within its fold.
Considering that the US would be preferring regional powers to play a more prominent role in the international economy and given the US’ preference to be a close ally of India, the weakest of the South need to look into the possibility of tying up closely with India and giving the latter a substantive role in advocating the South’s best interests in the councils of the world.
To enable this to happen the South needs to ‘get organized’ once again. The main differences between the past and the present with regard to Southern affairs is that in the past the South had outstanding leaders, such as Jawaharlal Nehru of India, who could doughtily stand up for it. As far as this columnist could ascertain, it is the lack of exceptional leaders that in the main led to the decline of NAM and other South-centred organizations.
Accordingly, an urgent task for the South is to enable the coming into being of exceptional leaders who could work untiringly towards the realization of its just needs, such as economic equity. Meanwhile, Southern countries would do well to, indeed, follow the principles of NAM and relate cordially with all the major powers so as to realizing their best interests.
Features
Sri Lanka and Global Climate Emergency: Lessons of Cyclone Ditwah
Tropical Cyclone Ditwah, which made landfall in Sri Lanka on 28 November 2025, is considered the country’s worst natural disaster since the deadly 2004 tsunami. It intensified the northeast monsoon, bringing torrential rainfall, massive flooding, and 215 severe landslides across seven districts. The cyclone left a trail of destruction, killing nearly 500 people, displacing over a million, destroying homes, roads, and railway lines, and disabling critical infrastructure including 4,000 transmission towers. Total economic losses are estimated at USD 6–7 billion—exceeding the country’s foreign reserves.
The Sri Lankan Armed Forces have led the relief efforts, aided by international partners including India and Pakistan. A Sri Lanka Air Force helicopter crashed in Wennappuwa, killing the pilot and injuring four others, while five Sri Lanka Navy personnel died in Chundikkulam in the north while widening waterways to mitigate flooding. The bravery and sacrifice of the Sri Lankan Armed Forces during this disaster—as in past disasters—continue to be held in high esteem by grateful Sri Lankans.
The Sri Lankan government, however, is facing intense criticism for its handling of Cyclone Ditwah, including failure to heed early warnings available since November 12, a slow and poorly coordinated response, and inadequate communication with the public. Systemic issues—underinvestment in disaster management, failure to activate protocols, bureaucratic neglect, and a lack of coordination among state institutions—are also blamed for avoidable deaths and destruction.
The causes of climate disasters such as Cyclone Ditwah go far beyond disaster preparedness. Faulty policymaking, mismanagement, and decades of unregulated economic development have eroded the island’s natural defenses. As climate scientist Dr. Thasun Amarasinghe notes:
“Sri Lankan wetlands—the nation’s most effective natural flood-control mechanism—have been bulldosed, filled, encroached upon, and sold. Many of these developments were approved despite warnings from environmental scientists, hydrologists, and even state institutions.”
Sri Lanka’s current vulnerabilities also stem from historical deforestation and plantation agriculture associated with colonial-era export development. Forest cover declined from 82% in 1881 to 70% in 1900, and to 54–50% by 1948, when British rule ended. It fell further to 44% in 1954 and to 16.5% by 2019.
Deforestation contributes an estimated 10–12% of global greenhouse gas emissions. Beyond removing a vital carbon sink, it damages water resources, increases runoff and erosion, and heightens flood and landslide risk. Soil-depleting monocrop agriculture further undermines traditional multi-crop systems that regenerate soil fertility, organic matter, and biodiversity.
In Sri Lanka’s Central Highlands, which were battered by Cyclone Ditwah, deforestation and unregulated construction had destabilised mountain slopes. Although high-risk zones prone to floods and landslides had long been identified, residents were not relocated, and construction and urbanisation continued unchecked.
Sri Lanka was the first country in Asia to adopt neoliberal economic policies. With the “Open Economy” reforms of 1977, a capitalist ideology equating human well-being with quantitative growth and material consumption became widespread. Development efforts were rushed, poorly supervised, and frequently approved without proper environmental assessment.
Privatisation and corporate deregulation weakened state oversight. The recent economic crisis and shrinking budgets further eroded environmental and social protections, including the maintenance of drainage networks, reservoirs, and early-warning systems. These forces have converged to make Sri Lanka a victim of a dual climate threat: gradual environmental collapse and sudden-onset disasters.
Sri Lanka: A Climate Victim
Sri Lanka’s carbon emissions remain relatively small but are rising. The impact of climate change on the island, however, is immense. Annual mean air temperature has increased significantly in recent decades (by 0.016 °C annually between 1961 and 1990). Sea-level rise has caused severe coastal erosion—0.30–0.35 meters per year—affecting nearly 55% of the shoreline. The 2004 tsunami demonstrated the extreme vulnerability of low-lying coastal plains to rising seas.
The Cyclone Ditwah catastrophe was neither wholly new nor surprising. In 2015, the Geneva-based Internal Displacement Monitoring Centre (IDMC) identified Sri Lanka as the South Asian country with the highest relative risk of disaster-related displacement: “For every million inhabitants, 15,000 are at risk of being displaced every year.”
IDMC also noted that in 2017 the country experienced seven disaster events—mainly floods and landslides—resulting in 135,000 new displacements and that Sri Lanka “is also at risk for slow-onset impacts such as soil degradation, saltwater intrusion, water scarcity, and crop failure”.
Sri Lanka ranked sixth among countries most affected by extreme weather events in 2018 (Germanwatch) and second in 2019 (Global Climate Risk Index). Given these warnings, Cyclone Ditwah should not have been a surprise. Scientists have repeatedly cautioned that warmer oceans fuel stronger cyclones and warmer air holds more moisture, leading to extreme rainfall. As the Ceylon Today editorial of December 1, 2025 also observed:
“…our monsoons are no longer predictable. Cyclones form faster, hit harder, and linger longer. Rainfall becomes erratic, intense, and destructive. This is not a coincidence; it is a pattern.”
Without urgent action, even more extreme weather events will threaten Sri Lanka’s habitability and physical survival.
A Global Crisis
Extreme weather events—droughts, wildfires, cyclones, and floods—are becoming the global norm. Up to 1.2 billion people could become “climate refugees” by 2050. Global warming is disrupting weather patterns, destabilising ecosystems, and posing severe risks to life on Earth. Indonesia and Thailand were struck by the rare and devastating Tropical Cyclone Senyar in late November 2025, occurring simultaneously with Cyclone Ditwah’s landfall in Sri Lanka.
More than 75% of global greenhouse gas emissions—and nearly 90% of carbon emissions—come from burning coal, oil, and gas, which supply about 80% of the world’s energy. Countries in the Global South, like Sri Lanka, which contribute least to greenhouse gas emissions, are among the most vulnerable to climate devastation. Yet wealthy nations and multilateral institutions, including the World Bank, continue to subsidise fossil fuel exploration and production. Global climate policymaking—including COP 30 in Belém, Brazil, in 2025—has been criticised as ineffectual and dominated by fossil fuel interests.
If the climate is not stabilised, long-term planetary forces beyond human control may be unleashed. Technology and markets are not inherently the problem; rather, the issue lies in the intentions guiding them. The techno-market worldview, which promotes the belief that well-being increases through limitless growth and consumption, has contributed to severe economic inequality and more frequent extreme weather events. The climate crisis, in turn, reflects a profound mismatch between the exponential expansion of a profit-driven global economy and the far slower evolution of human consciousness needed to uphold morality, compassion, generosity and wisdom.
Sri Lanka’s 2025–26 budget, adopted on November 14, 2025—just as Cyclone Ditwah loomed—promised subsidised land and electricity for companies establishing AI data centers in the country.
President Anura Kumara Dissanayake told Parliament: “Don’t come questioning us on why we are giving land this cheap; we have to make these sacrifices.”
Yet Sri Lanka is a highly water-stressed nation, and a growing body of international research shows that AI data centers consume massive amounts of water and electricity, contributing significantly to greenhouse gas emissions.
The failure of the narrow, competitive techno-market approach underscores the need for an ecological and collective framework capable of addressing the deeper roots of this existential crisis—both for Sri Lanka and the world.

A landslide in Sri Lanka (AFP picture)
Ecological and Human Protection
Ecological consciousness demands
recognition that humanity is part of the Earth, not separate from it. Policies to address climate change must be grounded in this understanding, rather than in worldviews that prize infinite growth and technological dominance. Nature has primacy over human-created systems: the natural world does not depend on humanity, while humanity cannot survive without soil, water, air, sunlight, and the Earth’s essential life-support systems.
Although a climate victim today, Sri Lanka is also home to an ancient ecological civilization dating back to the arrival of the Buddhist monk Mahinda Thera in the 3rd century BCE. Upon meeting King Devanampiyatissa, who was out hunting in Mihintale, Mahinda Thera delivered one of the earliest recorded teachings on ecological interdependence and the duty of rulers to protect nature:
“O great King, the birds of the air and the beasts of the forest have as much right to live and move about in any part of this land as thou. The land belongs to the people and all living beings; thou art only its guardian.”
A stone inscription at Mihintale records that the king forbade the killing of animals and the destruction of trees. The Mihintale Wildlife Sanctuary is believed to be the world’s first.
Sri Lanka’s ancient dry-zone irrigation system—maintained over more than a millennium—stands as a marvel of sustainable development. Its network of interconnected reservoirs, canals, and sluices captured monsoon waters, irrigated fields, controlled floods, and even served as a defensive barrier. Floods occurred, but historical records show no disasters comparable in scale, severity, or frequency to those of today. Ancient rulers, including the legendary reservoir-builder King Parākramabāhu, and generations of rice farmers managed their environment with remarkable discipline and ecological wisdom.
The primacy of nature became especially evident when widespread power outages and the collapse of communication networks during Cyclone Ditwah forced people to rely on one another for survival. The disaster ignited spontaneous acts of compassion and solidarity across all communities—men and women, rich and poor, Buddhists, Christians, Muslims, and Hindus. Local and international efforts mobilized to rescue, shelter, feed, and emotionally support those affected. These actions demonstrated a profound human instinct for care and cooperation, often filling vacuums left by formal emergency systems.
Yet spontaneous solidarity alone is insufficient. Sri Lanka urgently needs policies on sustainable development, environmental protection, and climate resilience. These include strict, science-based regulation of construction; protection of forests and wetlands; proper maintenance of reservoirs; and climate-resilient infrastructure. Schools should teach environmental literacy that builds unity and solidarity, rather than controversial and divisive curriculum changes like the planned removal of history and introduction of contested modules on gender and sexuality.
If the IMF and international creditors—especially BlackRock, Sri Lanka’s largest sovereign bondholder, valued at USD 13 trillion—are genuinely concerned about the country’s suffering, could they not cancel at least some of Sri Lanka’s sovereign debt and support its rebuilding efforts? Addressing the climate emergency and the broader existential crisis facing Sri Lanka and the world ultimately requires an evolution in human consciousness guided by morality, compassion, generosity and wisdom. (Courtesy: IPS NEWS)
Dr Asoka Bandarage is the author of Colonialism in Sri Lanka: The Political Economy of the Kandyan Highlands, 1833-1886 (Mouton) Women, Population and Global Crisis: A Politico-Economic Analysis (Zed Books), The Separatist Conflict in Sri Lanka: Terrorism, Ethnicity, Political Economy, ( Routledge), Sustainability and Well-Being: The Middle Path to Environment, Society and the Economy (Palgrave MacMillan) Crisis in Sri Lanka and the World: Colonial and Neoliberal Origins, Ecological and Collective Alternatives (De Gruyter) and numerous other publications. She serves on the Advisory Boards of the Interfaith Moral Action on Climate and Critical Asian Studies.
Features
Cliff and Hank recreate golden era of ‘The Young Ones’
Cliff Richard and Hank Marvin’s reunion concert at the Riverside Theatre in Perth, Australia, on 01 November, 2025, was a night to remember.
The duo, who first performed together in the 1950s as part of The Shadows, brought the house down with their classic hits and effortless chemistry.
The concert, part of Cliff’s ‘Can’t Stop Me Now’ tour, featured iconic songs like ‘Summer Holiday’, ‘The Young Ones’, ‘Bachelor Boy’, ‘Living Doll’ and a powerful rendition of ‘Mistletoe and Wine.’
Cliff, 85, and Hank, with his signature red Fender Stratocaster, proved that their music and friendship are timeless.
According to reports, the moment the lights dimmed and the first chords of ‘Move It’ rang out, the crowd knew they were in for something extraordinary.
Backed by a full band, and surrounded by dazzling visuals, Cliff strode onto the stage in immaculate form – energetic and confident – and when Hank Marvin joined him mid-set, guitar in hand, the audience erupted in applause that shook the hall.
Together they launched into ‘The Young Ones’, their timeless 1961 hit which brought the crowd to its feet, with many in attendance moved to tears.
The audience was treated to a journey through time, with vintage film clips and state-of-the-art visuals adding to the nostalgic atmosphere.
Highlights of the evening included Cliff’s powerful vocals, Hank’s distinctive guitar riffs, and their playful banter on stage.

Cliff posing for The Island photographer … February,
2007
Cliff paused between songs to reflect on their shared journey saying:
“It’s been a lifetime of songs, memories, and friendship. Hank and I started this adventure when we were just boys — and look at us now, still up here making noise!”
As the final chords of ‘Congratulations’ filled the theatre, the crowd rose for a thunderous standing ovation that lasted several minutes.
Cliff waved, Hank gave a humble bow, and, together, they left the stage, arm-in-arm, to the refrain of “We’re the young ones — and we always will be.”
Reviews of the show were glowing, with fans and critics alike praising the duo’s energy, camaraderie, and enduring talent.
Overall, the Cliff Richard and Hank Marvin reunion concert was a truly special experience, celebrating the music and friendship that has captivated audiences for decades.
When Cliff Richard visited Sri Lanka, in February, 2007, I was invited to meet him, in his suite, at a hotel, in Colombo, and I presented him with my music page, which carried his story, and he was impressed.
In return, he personally autographed a souvenir for me … that was Cliff Richard, a truly wonderful human being.
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