A complex new year....

I recently had the pleasure of being invited by the British High Commissioner in Sri Lanka to attend a reception held in honour of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Rowan Williams, who had been visiting the island.  It was a curious invitation, since I did not consider that my agency or I would fall on the radar screen of the British High Commissioner let alone the Archbishop.

It turned out to be a very nice evening with fellow colleagues from the NGO core and other diplomatic circles plus members of the church attending.  Having been spotted by one of the local bishops who upon finding out which organisation I came from promptly introduced me to the man himself.  There is a certain feeling one gets when one meets a ‘celebrity’, yet the man standing in front of me, obviously tired from his travelling and meetings struck me as warm and friendly with a certain sense of spirituality only masked by his genuine concern at the state of the country, which is probably a hot topic around Sri Lanka nowadays, not escaping the High Commissioner’s soiree.  Here again what was on people’s discussion point was the state of the country from man made and natural disasters.

As we stood around sipping our drinks, one could not help but notice that in the air was a sense of foreboding.  Perhaps it could have been because the British over the last couple of weeks have come under fire from the local press of their interest in Sri Lanka, but most probably what was in people’s minds was the uncertainty of things. 

Interestingly two conversations come to mind when I reflect upon that night.  The first was with a diplomat who was on his second stint in Sri Lanka after 20 years. ‘It’s strange’ he said, ‘It is like time has stood still and we are where were 20 years ago vis-à-vis the war’.

Another colleague told me that despite travelling back and forth to Sri Lanka over the last 20 years ‘every year seems to be bringing new and different challenges for Sri Lanka’.

Interesting yet different observations over the same period of time.  I think that perhaps the truth lies in between these two.  Sri Lanka has certainly come a long way from 20 years ago, but today as in 20 years back, we are staring down a very dark abyss as the security situation gets worse coupled by recurring natural disasters due to climate change.   Yet the challenge is different.  20 years on, we now have a generation that has grown up with such complex challenges being part of their life so much so, that there is a certain indifference and apathy from people in Colombo and those who live in the west and south of the Island and a sense of resignation and acceptance as the norm from people living in the north and east. 

As Dr Williams so eloquently phrased it when he addressed the reception, ‘if this new generation and the one after that continues to grow up in this isolation, surrounded from each other by these huge walls erected by extremists, then  the prospects are very bleak’  What do we want for our children?

Last month, Sri Lanka celebrated the Tamil and Sinhalese New Year.  A time of joy, celebration and hope.  Coupled with the traditional games that are played during this time, important messages for reconciliation and prayers for peace were broadcast throughout the nation.  For once, the nation was hopeful and relaxed enjoying the success of their cricket team bringing them hope.

  Now one month later, those memories of Tamil children playing  ‘ella’ (a local version of baseball) with Sinhalese Children in an interschool competition held in a town in the Trincomalee District (east of Sri Lanka), to promote inter ethnic harmony and cooperation are now long gone.

The air attacks of April 29^th coupled with a defeat in the world cup dampened the enthusiasm.  If that was not bad enough, Sri Lanka experienced the worst rains in a long time over the last couple of weeks, with streets in Colombo virtually becoming rivers, causing about 10,000 families to be displaced.  It was as if God had reminded us not only to take care of ourselves and our relationship but to also be mindful of the relationship with mother earth.

As a bruised Sri Lanka recovers from a two week battering of both man made and natural disasters, it is very important to take stock of our situation. The challenge is upon us now at least for the next generations and do as the Native American’s say ‘I did not inherit this earth from my forefathers, I borrowed it from my grandchildren.

A Surreal Experience

The sound of a muffled thud outside my hotel window woke me.  Noting the time of 2 am, I thought to myself, sounds like fireworks, Sri Lanka must have won the world cup.  This seemed to be a dramatic turn of events considering that I had retired to bed at 12.30am with a sinking feeling that they were going to lose to the Australian juggernaut.

Rushing to the window, I expected to see street parties and fireworks on the streets below.  For a few 5 seconds, I stood there mesmerized by the very unusual scene which greeted me. The surroundings in downtown Colombo, normally brilliantly lit were now pitch black.  There were no street parties and the beams of ‘fireworks’ were too close together and moreover sounded like sub machine gun fire.

A cold shiver went down my spine as I realized that this was no celebration shooting but retaliatory anti aircraft firing emanating from the compound in front of the hotel which housed the Ministry of Defence.

The worst fears of the government and those of us who have been observing the deterioration of the security situation in Sri Lanka had been confirmed.  The LTTE had started their air attacks on Colombo striking at the heart of the city in the middle of the night as the whole country was in a relaxed mood eagerly awaiting the world cup cricket showdown.

Backing away from the window rapidly, I made my way out of the room to find several of my colleagues who were also staying at the hotel outside in the corridor alongside several other tourists and nationals who had come to see the match at the hotel confronting the security guard.

 ‘Don’t worry this is normal, everything is ok’ I heard him say loudly almost trying to convince himself of the truth.

 Obviously the guests were not buying that.  For once thankfully a training session had paid off.  What we had learnt in our personal safety and security course and our experience in emergency response meant that my colleagues and I were able to guide the guests downstairs to the lobby.

The lobby seemed to be chaos central.  Coupled with drunk world cup spectators, nervous tourists and   confused hotel staff, the next couple of hours can best be described as interesting. 

Despite our best efforts as humanitarian workers to aid the hotel staff to deal with the hundreds of people now crowding the hotel lobby, it became difficult to stop curious people from wandering outside to see what the noise was about or to convince the hotel staff to dim the lights and make some preparations for the emergency. 

‘I am sorry Mr Saleem.  We do not want to panic the guests and do anything out of the ordinary’ replied one hotel manager when I had asked him about his plans for dealing with this emergency.  Something stopped me from slapping him back to his senses. 

Thankfully the whole ordeal lasted about an hour and a half, by which time, Sri Lanka had lost the world cup, the final drinks had been bought and the clubs started to empty.  By 4am the situation returned to normal and we dragged ourselves back to bed.

The next morning was a surreal experience as silent guests took their breakfast, shell shocked from the events of the previous night, the disappointment of the defeat and the realization that there had been a serious security incident that had been averted.  As I went to check out, I could see it beginning to dawn on the hotel staff there including my friend the manager that things could have got worse.

As is so common in Sri Lanka and what is seen as a forte of the Sri Lankan spirit, the roads of Colombo that morning had returned back to normal.  It was as if the previous 24 hours was in a separate time warp.

The events of the infamous 28^th of April have now taken this ‘low intensity defence operation’ (in the words of the government) to a new low.  Despite both sides claiming that the 2002 peace process is still intact, the last wave of attacks by the LTTE have initiated a new dimension to the scenario.

Over the last couple of weeks and months, the security situation in Sri Lanka has got increasingly bad.  Each day does not go without some report of an air attack or mine attack or ambush with people being killed from all sides.  Whilst the anti war and pro war rhetoric is scaled up accordingly with each infraction of security and justice, it is the innocent people that are left suffering.  Those internally displaced people (IDPs), numbering thousands still stranded in makeshift refugee camps are waiting to go home. 

Now Colombo has become involved and this can only be damaging to the country and the prospects for peace.  On the 29^th morning itself, around 120 tourists who had arrived the previous day, packed up and left the country.  Several airlines suspended flights and suddenly the tourist industry of Sri Lanka heading into a long weekend was starting to look fragile.  As one hotelier was heard to comment ‘One more incident like this and I shall have to close up for good’.

The prospects for Sri Lanka’s growth and development are based on a peaceful situation.  Despite, many tourist areas not being the subject of attacks, there is undoubtedly nervousness internationally as incidents like the attack get reported widely.  Sri Lanka just celebrated its cultural new year, and there is now fading hope that things will certainly get bright.

Returning home……

Like any other normal 7 year old, Rohini, has her dreams. ‘I want to become a doctor so that I can help my people,’ she shyly confides before going out to play with her friends.  There is just one problem. Rohini is one of many thousands who have become displaced since August last year due to an upsurge in the ethnic conflict. Given the unimaginative name of ‘IDP’ (Internally Displaced Person), by NGOs, these people are housed in ‘camps’ looked after by the government and relief agencies.  For some, they have been displaced since August whilst others are relatively new comers.

The east coast of Sri Lanka from Trincomalee down to Batticaloa is now full of these ‘transitional’ camps, housing mainly Tamil refugees fleeing the fighting from uncleared LTTE held areas to find refuge in Government held areas. Rohini has experienced a lot in the last couple of months.  With her family, she had escaped on foot through jungle routes, and on rafts and boats through the lagoon and sea, running through cross fire.  Her mother, Viji says, ‘At first we did not want to flee, but the shelling got worse and we had to go.  It just wasn’t safe anymore’

These stories are not uncommon as majority of these people have been shuffled back and forth like pawns on a chess board as the war has moved across the east.  Another inhabitant within the camp, Padmini has a much more harrowing tale to tell.  Speaking from her low roof tent, that has been donated by an NGO which she shares with 7 others, she recounts how she has been ‘displaced’ since April 2006 moving from one camp to another.

For those not lucky enough to have relatives or friends to look after them, majority of the displaced people end up in camps that have been converted from schools.  With basic water and sanitation facilities, and poor cooking arrangements, life in the camp is just about bearable.  When the school buildings overflow, tents or tarpaulin sheets are erected, forcing men and women who do not know each other to live in the same vicinity with little privacy for women.  During times of emergency it seems that those who have suffered still undergo future stress, living in a tent, with strangers, scorching during the day and shivering at night, with very basic food being given and not enough toilets.

Yoga, a 48 year old farmer explains the food situation ‘we are provided with one curry and a plate of rice.  Often for days on end.  In some camps, with extra funding, they throw in some vegetables now and then.’

M. Firthous is a volunteer at one of the makeshift camps that have sprung up in Batticaloa, close to where the latest fighting is taking place.  A teacher by profession, his school has been converted into one camp and school has been suspended for the while.  He laments ‘ these type of crisis means that the education of the children is disrupted whilst the school is used for a camp.  This does not even take into account education for the displaced children’.  With some disruption, it is not surprising that there is a huge disparity in education in this part of the country as opposed to other parts.  Those children that can attend school don’t have the right frame of mind to continue education

Unfortunately with such crisis, the sudden influx of displaced people puts pressure on the authorities and humanitarian agencies to cope with demands for shelter, food and sanitation.   Some camps are well looked after, whilst others are barely able to survive.

Whilst the accusations are that humanitarian agencies are not responding enough, there is a growing concern regarding security and favourable conditions for the agencies to work in.  Following the ACF killings last August, there has been a growing reluctance for agencies to commit themselves in unsafe conditions.  Coupled with the attacks on American and European Diplomats last week as they toured the east of the country, agencies are thinking twice about it.  Hence there arises a dichotomy for action. As a head of mission does one commit his staff to these areas, even though they have narrowly avoided mine attacks and shelling?  What about the people who have suffered this for the past couple of months?  Surely they are more of a priority….  These are arguments that will go on as long as there is conflict in this part of the world.

With all this hardship, fear and uncertainty, there is one thing that everyone is united on.  Even if it takes months, they all want to go home.  Nadarajah is a family whose house was destroyed by artillery fire.  ‘ My house is destroyed, I lost some members of my family.  Even if it takes months for peace to return, I want to go home.  I want to start a normal life.’

The semblance of normalcy is what everyone needs but the scars of tension and trauma are deep and will remain for a long time.

As for Rohini as she plays on some donated swings that have been set up in the camp as part of a child friendly space, the horrors she has gone through have momentarily disappeared, until the sun begins to set and she returns ‘home’, a temporary tent she shares with her family and a few strangers….  Another day has gone


This was originally printed in Reuters Alertnet

Colombo’s ‘invisible people’ at the mercy of nature

Clothes hang on fences; toys are seen floating on murky brown water; pillows clog the drains and people, already weighed down with life’s burdens, clean their mud-stained wooden shacks in a rhythmic and experienced manner.

These are the ‘invisible people’ of Mabola and Wellampitiya, towns just north of the Sri Lankan capital Colombo. They are daily-wage workers, living on the brink of poverty, who have been exposed to the harsh realities of the monsoon once again.

This time though, Mother Nature has been exceptionally harsh, with virtually non-stop rain over the past couple of months. November was particularly cruel, with flash floods even hitting parts of Colombo.

The workers, who are forced to settle ‘illegally’ in marshy areas due to a shortage of land, are particularly vulnerable to flooding during the monsoon. Living downstream of industrial estates, they’re not only at the mercy of the rising waters but are also exposed to pollution from the waste released by factories, which often manufacture for top multinational companies.

Visiting these areas as we try to provide flood relief exposes me to this harsh world on the outskirts of Colombo for the first time.

“No one really cares about us,” Pushpakumara, a trishaw driver and father of three, observes disdainfully. “We are the invisible people, not showing up on anyone’s records. These estates discharge their effluents into the river and when the water level rises, the dirty water with unbearable smells comes into our living rooms and kitchens.”

I’m conscious of a pungent odour permeating this area of largely stagnant water. With the flooding of whatever meagre sanitation existed here, toxic chemicals create a cocktail of potential diseases for residents. Wading in these waters is to gamble with your health. 

There have already been reports of snake bites affecting children, as well as one of my staff who forgets his protective equipment and stupidly decides to wade barefoot. Luckily he suffers a very minor bite, and I’m quickly able to put my first aid knowledge into practice.

At the local mosque, which is the only centre serving a mixed community of Muslims, Tamils and Sinhalese, Mr Rumy, a local businessman, directs operations much like an army commander on the field.

“These people have no representation. Whilst the government recognises them by providing electricity and water connections, when such a disaster happens, they are left to fend for themselves,” he laments. “If it was not for the help of local community people and other humanitarian organisations, they would have been left to suffer for themselves.”

Fatima is a former housemaid who worked in the Middle East. Since her alcoholic husband abandoned her and her three children, she has been working as a cook in a small restaurant, living in a two-room wooden shack divided up into four spaces including a kitchen and toilet. 

Standing in the middle of what was her living room, she recollects with a sad smile on her face: “We simply had to tolerate everything. We had to flee to the mosque leaving behind whatever valuables we had. Now the water levels are still high and we have a threat of snakes. Our children cannot go to school as all their books and uniforms have been destroyed.”

Here in this room, I grasp the reality of this new set of ‘invisible people’, as Pushpakumara so eloquently put it. They haven’t suffered from Sri Lanka’s ethnic conflict or the tsunami, yet seem to be living in worse conditions than either of these two groups, with very little support from the government or humanitarian agencies.  The rains have now ceased in Colombo but for these people, the struggle continues to restart their lives but underlying this is the knowledge that if the rains come once again, the situation will be the same.   My dilemma is how do we help them out of this vicious circle?

These people are invisible because of the poverty and insecurity of their lives. They need support in their struggle to improve their living conditions. Working together as a community, they have the potential to climb out of their plight. But first they need to be seen and heard.

A Question of Death

So, it appears that 3 million people sat down to watch Derren Brown’s ‘Live’ Russian Roulette Stunt on Sunday 5^th October.  The irresponsibility and insensitivity of Channel 4, who broadcast the event, needs to be highlighted, in the light of the recent tragic incidents related to gun crime and the sanity of Derren Brown needs to be questioned.  Despite Mr Brown (unbeknownst to the viewing public) using blanks instead of live ammunition, the fact remains that 3 million people tuned into watch someone attempt to shoot himself in the head.  Forget the excuse of psychological tricks or mind games, because this highlights an increasingly worryingly trend in the fascination that we have for death.  We are all guilty in some way, for don’t we slow down on the M25 to have a peek at the victim of the latest accident?

So where does this deep morbid and perverted fascination for tragedies that afflict others come from?  Is it due to the media?  Have we become desensitised to violence, killing and death, as a result of what we see on our TV screens and in the cinemas?  Or have society and the time we live in just become more violent?  Recent images from the Iraq war were shown before the watershed time and seemed to shock less than in 1991.  They say that art imitates life, which must mean that society has become more violent and death more apparent, where a life of human being is not worth 2 pence.  Have we become that arrogant?

Next to the fascination with death is the fascination with cheating death.  The Blaine’s, Browns and even Houdini’s of this world all revel in the ultimate parlour trick, feeding our constant desire as a viewing public, to cheat death.  Why are we so concerned about cheating death? The faiths teach that death is inescapable.  In Islam, we are told in the Qur’an that ‘Nor can a soul die except by God’s leave, the term being fixed by Writing’ (3:145).  What does this mean?  We can not cheat death.  Death is the only one certain thing about life. So why do we fall for these cheap illusions that these individuals create about cheating death?  Is it because they create an image that they can achieve what man can not or is it something deeper?

So how do we move away from this fascination of death and of cheating death? We have to live our life to prepare for our death.  Regardless of whether one believes in an afterlife or not, the fundamental question that we ask ourselves, is how we can live to make the world a better place, so that when we die (which we all do), our children will benefit from what we did.  This is the real idea of sustainability, a word that governments like to toss in to appease the environmentalists.  We need to rethink about what drives us in life.  What do we do?  Why do we do it?  How do we do it?  Our lives need to incorporate peace, justice and equality.  Our children will need to live and grow up in a safe world, where people live in peace and justice and are not persecuted for their race, colour or religion.  This is a responsibility that we as human beings have towards each other and also the rest of creation.  We need to lose our arrogance and cohabit with other people and other living things.  We as people living in the so called ‘developed’ world need to take the initiative and tackle the key issues that affect our society.  We can’t expect the government to do this on their own and even if we did, they have not given us the confidence that they will go about it like this.  The government is only content in healing the surface wounds afflicting society, whilst completely ignoring the root causes.  The recent moves to deal with the increase in gun crime are evidence of this.  Rather than look at the causes of gun crime, the government announced new measures for the police.  This will not solve the issue as the government is not looking into the root causes such as unemployment; poor education and so on.  By not dealing with the root causes, the government will systematically fail to cure the maladies of society

One can only guess the anguish that the family of Marian Bates, shot while trying to defend her daughter, were going through on that Sunday night.  Our thoughts are with them when we say; Marian Bates was the true heroine. She had a couple of seconds to make a decision before the gun, containing live ammunition, was fired.  Do I save myself