After deprivation, Sri Lanka's displaced nurture hopes of going home

In the last week, some sort of order seems to be coming to the camps here in northeastern Sri Lanka. The task is momentous as the numbers of displaced people are continuously increasing. The camps are expanding, but despite all the preparations, the sheer volume means the early weeks have been chaotic.
It seems those who've been displaced to Trincomalee will also end up coming to Vavuniya. That could be a good move in terms of facilitating the aid process and easing logistical difficulties.
The authorities are quietly making an effort to put the camps in order. In practice, this means providing electricity and water, clearing land for more camps, and ensuring the displaced get the best help possible. Credit should be given where it's due, and in the face of such huge challenges, it's been remarkable to see the government at work.
Forests are being cleared at a terrific pace, tents are being put up (according to one rumour, 12,000 were erected in a day) and within two days, pylons and wires had been rigged up with the expectation power would flow 24 hours later. As a colleague wryly remarked, "If only they could be this efficient in Colombo!"
One thing that isn't so efficient are the queues. Driving up to Vavuniya, you arrive at Medavichia, about 35km to the south and regarded by some as the last point between the "north" and the rest of the country. If you're lucky, you spend only an hour at this checkpoint. If not, you can count on two to three hours, and no one is spared.
Everyone is searched and then let through. Previously, vehicles weren't allowed to go past this checkpoint without a defence ministry pass. So a lot of agencies have ended up driving to Medavichia and then changing over into vehicles coming from Vavuniya. Either way your car is put on a ramp and checked. This is certainly a hassle, but imagine what it's like for those using public transport.
The day we went in, there were about 40 vehicles parked in front of us waiting for clearance. Many were from corporates sending in relief items. There was also a fleet of around 10 fire and rescue vehicles and trucks from various municipal councils.
We all got the same treatment. The police officer who checked us was very polite but unapologetic. "Sorry sir, we have a duty to check to ensure security and safety." They went through the car with a fine tooth comb, but at least we didn't have to unload items from a truck and then put them all back.
Before you enter Menik Farm - the site of the largest camp holding the most displaced people (around 170,000) - you queue while the military police check your access pass and go through the vehicle. All precautionary security measures, as people are inevitably nervous.

'I CAN'T BE A REFUGEE'

It's only once you're in that you see the real queues. People line up for water, food and other relief supplies, as well as to use the bathroom. "It has been quite orderly," remarked one aid worker. "But when we first started, there were mini riots as people surged to get things. It was as if they had not seen these things before."
This is what strikes you about the current situation. The people are so desperate and have been deprived of so much for so long that anything is now a luxury.
Many of the mothers who've been coming to our mobile hospital are suffering from malnutrition - not just because they've been hungry for the last couple of months but because they've been deprived of essential food and nutrients for the last three years or so.
There have been allegations in the state media that some government food aid sent to areas controlled by the rebels ended up in Tamil Tiger bunkers or warehouses owned by their leadership, without going to the people. From what we're seeing on the ground, it's becoming hard to dispute such allegations.
Most of the displaced have reached a psychological point of desperation, with many having been continuously uprooted since 2006. A few have expressed relief simply at the fact that they can now sleep in some degree of comfort without the threat and noise of shelling.
Talk to them and you get a sense of how fruitless their lives have been, just moving from place to place, caught up in a battle of which they knew nothing and didn't want to be a part. Many speak of family members who were forcibly conscripted to fight.
Yet in the midst of all this pain and suffering, there doesn't seem to be much sorrow. It's as if they've lost the capacity for sadness. Most, though, are hopeful for the future. One person told me: "I just want to go back to my place and restart my livelihood. I don't care how long that will take. I can't be a refugee."
This is a sentiment you hear quite often. There's no feeling of grievance or anger against the government or the army. Many of the displaced have spoken of their surprise at the gentle way they've been treated by the perceived "other side". The main desire is to go home and start their lives again.
It's a message that even the government seems to have heard. Yesterday the president convened a meeting with heads of agencies where they were told: "We need to work together to help our people return back to safety and normality. This is our responsibility, our duty and our plan." A powerful promise that now needs to be put into action.

this originally appeared here

A New beginning

If you are in the business of selling fire crackers or the Sri Lankan national flag, then over the last two days, business has been very good.  As the President of Sri Lanka returned yesterday from the G11 summit in Jordan to a rapturous welcome given by his ministers and religious leaders, on the streets of Colombo, people lit fire crackers and with lighting efficiency, flags were flown where all parts of the city, on buildings, lamp posts and from cars.

Today’s news of the death of the LTTE leader has further lightened the mood and there has been no letting up of the fire crackers. There are some who have been privately voicing a concern as to whether this public show of celebration could further inflame the situation and hurt an already ‘wounded’ Tamil population. 

‘This is not about a Sinhalese victory over the Tamils. It is about the victory of the Sri Lankan nation over the forces of terrorism’, remarked one trishaw driver as he drove his flag laden vehicle around town.   Whatever the intentions behind the celebrations, it is hard not to get caught up in the atmosphere here in Colombo, which has seen the brunt of many suicide attacks over the last 26 years. The mood was reflected by the gesture of the President kneeling on the ground with his hands raised in worship and appreciation as he got off the plane.

Speaking to some of my Sri Lankan friends and colleagues, there is not only a sense of a relief that things might be over, but what is striking is this sense of feeling surreal.  It is kind of hard to imagine or remember a time when the LTTE did not occupy part of the psyche of the Sri Lankan thought process.  No one really knows how to properly react.  ‘It is like this mole on your face that you knew was there and it really annoyed you.  Now it isn’t there any more yet you still half expect it to be still around’ is how one person described her feelings to me today upon hearing the news. 

The LTTE and its leader have occupied the lives of most if not all Sri Lankans, that it will feel strange that this is no longer the case.  The question though that is popping up immediately now is: What next? Already people are asking whether the security checks will be removed from the streets and what will happen to the army.  These are perhaps premature questions because though the conflict may be over, the peace will still need to be won.  As the Governor of the Central Bank said firmly today in a meeting on financial inclusion held in Colombo ‘We have to win the peace and ensure that people are returned to their houses in the north to restart their shattered lives’.  Analysts are talking about a political solution to ensure grievances do not give rise to future conflicts.  Whatever the case, it is important to talk about the future prospects of the country.

In the midst of all the celebrations, it should not be forgotten at what cost this has been borne.  The numbers of lives lost of men, women and children has been staggering especially over the last 6 months and no more than ever there is a need to repair the cracks that have been developed and to heal the wounds that have been caused by a 26 year old conflict.  The trust will need to be rebuilt in order to decrease suspicion. It will be important for people to realise that not all Tamils are from the LTTE and that not all Sinhalese are Tamil haters.   This is the role that the civil society and in particular the religious leaders will need to play in order to bring out about reconciliation that entails infusing human values with an understanding of the need to move away from apportioning blame for deceit and destruction.   Rebuilding trust will mean honouring unity and celebrating diversity, working towards equity and justice and ensuring the eradication of social prejudices. 

Special attention will need to be provided to the most vulnerable who are mainly the women and children.  The displaced have gone through a harrowing and traumatic experience and will need special support in order to address their physical, psychosocial and emotional needs.  For the children in particular, who have endured months (if not years) of conflict, there will need to be special feeding programs to combat the long term malnutrition as well as creative programs looking at education and health.  This will be absolutely vital to ensure a return to normalcy.

People will need to be returned back to their original land and homes as quickly as possible.  This is not only the 250,000 that are currently displaced, but the 100,000 who were displaced in 1990 from the north and who are currently living in refugee camps in Puttalum and the 100,000+ who are currently in India.  Each and every one of these people will need to restart their livelihoods and get back to normalcy.  There is a huge task that is involved in de-mining, infrastructure rebuilding and so on.

Last but not least, it must be seen as a new beginning for the country and a time to ‘Build Back Better’.  Thus all stakeholders, the private and public sector, the humanitarian agencies and donors, the individual and the collective will need to work together to ensure return, recovery, rehabilitation and reconstruction.  People will need to rise above their politics of association and thought to work together on the single platform of building the nation for a better tomorrow so that the next generation of children have something better to aspire to.  As a humanitarian colleague said very eloquently, ‘We have already lost the futures of two generations of children to nearly three decades of war. This must not be allowed to continue.’

Frustration and anger

Thank you Channel 4 news for your daring news ‘expose’ on the ‘situation in the camps’.  It is a pity that you were not able to get more feedback from other humanitarian agencies working on the ground or that some of the footage was in fact rather questionable, but nevertheless, sneaking a ‘hidden’ camera into a camp trying to get some dirt on the authorities.  Master stroke!! Of course, they possibly didn’t realise that by doing such an ‘intelligent’ thing, they would just be making things difficult for those of us who have to remain and work in this setting.  As news broke out of the deportation of these journalists at the beginning of the week, the clampdown as expected took place.  Cameras are now prohibited in the camps and security has been tightened. So our circle of influence which we were initially enjoying has now shrunk and we now have to regain that trust and acceptance.

I really don’t understand how this current scenario is being played out internationally.  On the one hand, you have stories on the media about the plight of IDPs in camps in Pakistan and the concern for access for agencies, yet no one is pin pointing the government of Pakistan.  Yet in the same breath, the same scenario is happening here in Sri Lanka, but it is the fault of the government.  Not that I am excusing the Sri Lankan government by all means.  Everyone will have to answer for whatever action they have taken.

The world is so concerned about what is happening in the No Fire Zone.  I am not here to explain or criticise what is happening in the No Fire Zone or who is shelling who.  This is out of my circle of influence and the majority of the other humanitarian agencies.  What we can do is to actually respond to the growing emergency needs of those that have been displaced.  This is our mandate.

This is why I can’t understand why some of the agencies are not responding to the crisis and how some of my colleagues are willing to hold the lives of many of the displaced people at bay, for political gain.  A lot of them seem to take the line of Non Governmental as being anti government.  So whatever the government says, we have to object.  Not in the line of  ‘let us see where the gaps are and fill them in because this is our mandate’. 

 Sure there are difficulties in access and clearance, but this is the system.  Like in most countries around the world, you get into the system and effect change. You can’t be on the outside and effect change.

 This is what many of my colleagues are unfortunately doing and I am getting annoyed because it is at the expense of the lives of these IDPs.  More than once I have heard the comment ‘we will have to do an assessment and see the requirements’.  I don’t understand that!!! What is there to check?  You have 170,000 people who have been displaced and who need the basic: water, shelter, food, sanitation.  It’s common sense.  The government has the responsibility to do something and should be accountable, but then again so do we because that is what we are there for.   We are not there to drive around in our 4x4s with our flags flying and just doing assessments.  The sad thing is that we should not be doing assessments because we were expecting this. 

 How many times, have we assured the government that we are ready for this situation?  We have prepared stockpiles and set aside funds.  Yet nothing seems to have happened.  These are the serious questions that we need to ask ourselves before we are asked.  We were supposed to be prepared for this.  This is not unexpected like Pakistan.  What happened?

The coordination meetings are happening though!! I remember getting the minutes of one meeting, where it was stated that no more doctors were needed since the needs had been met.  Hence anyone applying for support from donors in bringing in doctors would be rejected.  I then looked at the daily update that had come from my team on the field. ‘We have a shortage of doctors’.  Somewhere there is a disconnect!

‘We want to pressurise the government to return these people back as soon as possible ,’ one head of mission told me as he politely refused my request to support some of my operational costs. ‘So do we’, I replied, ‘but this doesn’t mean I should not do anything now.’  Unfortunately, there are many who are taking the line that the government created this mess and they should clean up but this argument falls apart when it is a group of civilians who have no means of support and help.

Standards need to be met and procedures need to be followed is always the cry of the agencies.  We need to ensure that the need is met.  I remember a couple of years ago, a government agent saying ‘What standards?  I just need one toilet to be built for this camp.  Just one out of a need of at least twenty and you bring standards and quality into this!’

I think there is something fundamentally wrong in the way that we as a humanitarian community are approaching this crisis (and the same goes for others around the world).  We seem to have forgotten that this is not a job but a calling.  A calling to serve those most in need! No time does this calling become more apparent than during an emergency, when we have to do the most efficient and effective response possible to meet those in need.  Lives can not be compromised.

I am in no doubt now that we will not receive the support from the bigger humanitarian organisations and donors because of what I have written.  You see much of the donor support is like being in an old boys club.  You rub my back and I rub yours.  I don’t think I fit in or want to fit into such a club.  Yet the sad thing is that there are a few agencies like ours that are genuinely trying to work and we are now looking at pulling out after three months, because we do not have the funds to carry out the operations.  This is the saddest irony of this whole situation.  

Meeting the Challenges of displacement

What a difference a week makes.  In the last week, there seems to be some sort of order coming to the camps.  The task is momentous as the numbers of people are continuously increasing in parallel to the expansion of the camps, so to some extent things are happening simultaneously.  Despite all the preparations, the sheer volume has meant that the first week was always chaotic.   

It seems that those that have been displaced to Trincomalee, will eventually also be placed in Vavunia.  In hindsight, it may be a good move in order to facilitate the aid process, otherwise it does make things logistically difficult to handle especially for emergency relief.  As the dust settles, the authorities are quietly getting along with the business of getting the camps in order.  That business consists of getting in electricity, sorting out water supply, clearing land for more camps and ensuring that the beneficiaries are getting the best of what they can.  Credit needs to be given where it is due and in the face of such huge challenges it has been remarkable to see the authorities at work.  The forests are being cleared at a terrific pace, the tents are being put up (there was a rumor that about 12,000 tents were put up in one day) and it has been fascinating to watch the electricity being put in.  Within two days, the pylons were up and the wires being set up with the intention of electricity being given within a day.  When things need to get done, it appears that  it is being done.  As a colleague wryly remarked ‘If only they could be this efficient in Colombo!’

One image that seems to be associated with this current situation is queues.  As you drive up to Vavunia, you arrive at Medavichia (about 35km drive south of Vavunia).  This is seen in some circles as the last point between the ‘north’  and the rest of the country.   If you are lucky you can only spend an hour at this checkpoint, otherwise on average, it is about 2 – 3 hours and no one is spared.  Everyone is expected to be searched and then let through.  In previous times, vehicles were not allowed to go past this checkpoint without a Ministry of Defence pass.  Hence what a lot of agencies have ended up doing is to drive up to Medavachia and then swap vehicles with ones coming from Vavunia.  In any case, whatever happens, the vehicle also inevitably is put on a ramp and checked. A hassle, nevertheless but what about those who are in public transport?

The day we entered, there were about 40 vehicles parked in front of us waiting for clearance.  Many of them were from corporates sending in relief items.  There was a fleet of about 10 fire and rescue ambulances and trucks from various municipal councils.  They were getting the same treatment.  The police officer who checked us was very polite but unapologetic ‘Sorry sir, we have a duty to check to ensure security and safety’.  You can’t argue with that.  They check all your luggage and go through the car with a fine tooth comb.  I just pity those who have to unload items from a truck and then put it back.

Before you enter Manic Farm, which is the site of the largest camp holding the most number of displaced people (around 170,000), there is a queue whilst the Military Police check your access pass and go through the vehicle.  All precautionary security measures.  People are inevitably nervous.

Once you enter the camp though, then you see the real queues.  People are queuing for water, food, to use the bathroom, to get some relief item and so on.  ‘It has been quite orderly.  When we first started, there were mini riots as people surged to get things.  It was as if they had not seen these things before’, remarked one NGO worker.

This is what strikes you about the current situation.  The people are so desperate and have been deprived of so much that anything for them now is a luxury.  This is not just because of the current situation but one can see the effect of long term deprivation.  Many of the mothers who have been coming to our mobile hospital are suffering from malnutrition, not because they have been hungry for the last couple of months, but because easily for the last 3 years or so, they have been deprived of essential food and nutrients.  So there must be some truth to the photographs that were shown on state media purportedly of how government food aid that was sent to the LTTE control areas ended up in LTTE bunkers or in the warehouses owned by the LTTE leadership.  From what we are seeing on the ground, it certainly did not necessarily go to the people. 

Most of these displaced people have been mentally brought to a point of desperation with many of them being continuously displaced since 2006.  A few have just expressed relief for the fact that they are able to sleep in some aspect of comfort without the threat and sound of shells.  Talk to them and you get a sense of how fruitless their lives must have been, just moving from place to place, being caught up in a battle that they knew nothing of or did not want to be a part of.  Many of them speak of family members who were forcibly conscripted to fight.  Yet in the midst of all this pain and suffering, there doesn’t seem to be much sorrow.  It is as if they have lost the capacity for sorrow . Most of them are though hopeful for the future.  As one IDP told me ‘I just want to go back to my place and restart my livelihood.  I don’t care how long that will take.  I cant be a refugee’.

This seems to be the message that one is consistently hearing.  There is no sense of grievance or anger against the government or the army.  Many IDPs have spoken of their surprise at the gentle way they have been treated by the army and the government, the ‘perceived’ other side.  The message is one of going back and restarting their livelihood.

This is a message that even the government seems to have heard.  Yesterday the President convened a meeting with heads of agencies and the message that came across was very simple. ‘We need to work together to help our people return back to safety and normalcy.  This is our  responsibility, duty and our plan’  Powerful words coming directly from the Head of State.  The hope is that this message is consistently played to all stakeholders and sectors of society and that this is the way the future is played out.