Opposites Detract

On Independence Day this year, a person made a comment on her personal Instagram Story. 

This personal opinion was misread and misinterpreted, by various personalities on Sri Lankan social media. 

Looking at the comment, I note two statements of sincere patriotism: ‘I love my country; I love this country.’ All good so far. However, this commenter was not expressing a blind love. She added that she is not happy with the way the country has been run - since its Independence. Specifically not recently, or currently. But rather, since 1948. 73 years. Almost three quarters of a century. 

This statement encompasses generations of leadership and mismanagement, across the range of political parties. And many people, including those who went on to criticize this commenter, broadly agree with her opinion. That this is a country naturally blessed in a million ways, but which finds itself in some significant ways not as equitable, economically prosperous and socially progressive as it could and should be, by now. 

The statement that roused the anti-colonialist ire of millennial social media commenters was her assertion that ‘If we were a colony, we would actually have been better off, as a people and as a nation’. She was here, in my view, suggesting that the citizens of contemporary Sri Lanka should stop reiterating platitudes about sovereignty, and retiring into blaming long dead politicians, and making excuses for the state of the nation. Instead, this independent state could and should start to become truly, proudly, sovereign and autonomous, effective in its administrative infrastructure, and transform itself into a land in which all its citizens, and not only a privileged elite, feel truly blessed to live. 

Her statement on Independence Day on Instagram, however, caused her to be labeled a ‘colonial sympathizer’ who was ‘nostalgic’ for the days of British rule. 

In contemporary Sri Lanka, accusations of pro-colonial sentiment are a virtual death sentence. Given the history of oppression, racism and belittlement suffered by colonized people, this opinion expressed by this commenter came across as incendiary, and unfortunately opened her statement to misinterpretation. 

The subsequent misreading of it was selective, and biased, and these coined terms ‘nostalgic’ and ‘pro-Colonial’ were then applied to her over the next several months, in a series of apparently random, disparaging and dismissive comments on Lankan social media. 

As is frequent in the social media sphere in this country, there were commenters whose constant reiteration of these specific key framing terms, aiming to belittle and ridicule their target, identified them as pack leaders, sociolinguistically, and this core group prompted a group of followers, who constantly affirmed their comments, the reach of which were amplified by replies and emojis and memes. 

One of the social freedoms Sri Lankans of all generations most strongly defend is their right to freedom of expression. Social media technology has powerfully weaponised this freedom, and many Twitter and Facebook and WhatsApp users have fully exercised this freedom, to the extent of abuse and breach of the Internet, not stopping short of damaging the reputations of their fellow citizens. 

The kind of malicious commentary described here has visibly become normalized in this country over the past several years, and its perpetrators and those who participate in the public comments threads on Facebook and Twitter clearly relish the social power accorded them by these platforms, to bully and criticize those against whom they have a grudge of any kind - whether personal or professional, real or imaginary. 

It can be argued that if any person makes a provocative comment on a public platform, they should be prepared to receive feedback. In fact, the original creator of the Instagram Story message had invited her extensive base to respond to her statement, so that a conversation could be generated about this issue. Many people did just that, and a fruitful and positive discussion ensued. 

It should be noted that the original Instagram commenter had built her business initially through ‘word of mouth’ and through the intelligent and adaptive use of social media. She was invited by Google to participate in a forum specifically because of her successful use of Instagram as a key instrument in building brand recognition and audience engagement. She has created not just a business but a lifestyle brand, one of Sri Lanka’s first. 

However, the minority who chose to see her statement as ‘pro-colonialist’ and ‘nostalgic’ continued to brand her in a negative way. The original commenter is one of the most successful independent entrepreneurs in the country, and she has built an enterprise over the past seven years which is recognised for its high quality products and excellent and consistent standard of service and delivery. 

During lockdown, she was one of the first to ensure her commitment to the economic security of her staff by resiliently adapting to offer exemplary home delivery and ensuring wholistic compliance with safety standards. From the start, she has supported other businesses, and empowered other entrepreneurs, even those in the same sphere of activity as herself, and as her business and brand have grown, she has generously given recognition to rising artists and creatives who have been associated with her enterprise. 

The group of people who had started to form and indulge the addictive habit of belittling her, as a sort of performative art form, began mockingly calling her an ‘influencer aunty’ - a term not only factually inaccurate, as she is an entrepreneur, not an influencer, but clearly intended to be personally insulting. Success attracts envy. And some were adopting a ‘slash and burn’ approach to creating space for themselves on public platforms where the commenter was seen to dominate. 

Disturbingly, this same group of people who had name-called her regarding the Independence Day comment on Instagram, started to comment on the way this entrepreneur ‘unjustly’ ‘mistreated’ artists and creatives who had worked in association with her. This was a direct attack on her business integrity and ethics, and these accusations were provably false. Despite the evidence of the falseness of the accusations being publicly shared, with direct testimonials from the artists and creatives themselves, refuting the false statements made, the negative commenters issued no apology. 

Damage done knowingly to a person’s right to work, to operate their business, to occupy a social space which they have rightfully earned through their dedication and their hard work and their enterprise, is called defamation, libel and slander. This is where the right to comment and express opinion becomes offensive: when a person’s compulsive actions to cause damage to another, and to air their personal opinions on social media, opens their own conduct to public and legal scrutiny, and they become seen as perpetrators. 

A person who engages in such behaviour may feel initially rewarded by the engagement they receive from their followers, who encourage them and bond with them in attacking their target. But the more they do so, the more evidence they offer of a compulsion on their part which seems to operate to make them use virtually anything that is available to attack the person, as if the ‘issue’ being commented on is not actually the point at all, but just an opening for their own opportunistic critique. 

This observable pattern of attack is cancel culture in the making. And we see burning issues such as race, religion, sovereignty, gender disparity, social injustice and colourism being commented on every day. But when these issues are handcuffed to a personal grudge, the commentary is not objective. It is being used to decry and to denigrate, under the guise of activism or raising public awareness. ‘Having an unpopular opinion’ is a high crime in the conformist and cliquey culture of social media. 

Technology in recent times has empowered a lot of articulate people, who have been given an unprecedented opportunity to express themselves in a world in which many have felt initially excluded and marginalized, by their comparatively young age, and their relatively minor professional status. They can, even from the social margins to which the traditional hierarchy and class conscious broader society has relegated them, create large online followings by expressing reductive, stereotypical, controversial and crowd pleasing opinions in quotable and retweetable ways. And many of them clearly feel that, by doing this, they are redressing the imbalance of a world skewed against them. 

They may not be aware that if their actions - seen not as ‘one off’ comments, but as part of a pattern - constitute malicious harassment, and can be shown to be aimed at targeting, isolating and alienating another person, they can actually be deplatformed. As most of these perpetrators rely on their social media platforms professionally, to keep them relevant to their followers, this is counterproductive, to say the least. 

The vast reach of the internet, used by most to increase their digital presence and online reputation, when used by people of ill will to damage others, ironically operates in reverse as far as defamation goes. The more people who are reached by false, accusatory and damaging statements, the more damage is seen to be caused to the person whose public reputation is under attack. And in law, every action has a direct consequence to the perpetrator. 

People who have grown up commenting to vast and invisible audiences on social media platforms without awareness or recognition of this reality, focus exclusively on their rights, instead of their responsibilities. It is a bad habit to indulge, and sometimes intervention is required to make them aware that indulging it is not, in this appearance-based society, ‘a good look’, and definitely NOT the way to go.

Early Intervention

Sri Lanka’s MeToo Movement is currently being described by Al Jazeera, The Hindu and The Independent as ‘delayed’ or ‘belated’, with stories of harassment, abuse and violation of women in professional spheres and industries now breaking - a full four years after the first stories emerged in the U.S., generated by the exposure and disgrace of Harvey Weinstein. 

https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2021/6/23/sri-lanka-metoo-newsrooms-women-journalists

https://www.thehindu.com/news/international/sri-lankas-metoo-moment-sparks-reflection-on-newsrooms/article34949285.ece

https://www.independent.co.uk/asia/south-asia/metoo-sri-lanka-newsrooms-sarah-kellapatha-b1871211.html

The findings of the legal pursuit of Weinstein by the journalist Ronan Farrow were reported in mainstream and widely respected publications in the U.S. such as The New Yorker, over the past four years. A-list actresses like Gwyneth Paltrow, Emma Thompson and Angelina Jolie spoke up about their experiences not just of Weinstein, but of the predatory culture in which he was a towering and successful figure. This transformed a whisper campaign relegated to the sidelines of the film industry, and accused of being a ‘witch hunt’, into a credible and widely discussed issue centered on evaluation of documented incidents of social and cultural injustice, which needed to be remedied. 

https://www.newyorker.com/news/news-desk/from-aggressive-overtures-to-sexual-assault-harvey-weinsteins-accusers-tell-their-stories

Harassment in the workplace is endemic to cultures in which there is an inherent and systemic imbalance of power. Globally, it is relatively very recently that women have joined the workforce in multiple industries, and their professional advancement has been made in the face of immediate territorial pushback from their male colleagues and bosses. Gender based structural inequality, and its biases and assumptions, fuels this territoriality. 

Women, who should, according to the traditional models created and endorsed by the patriarchy, be ‘modest’, ‘selfless’, ‘self-effacing’ - and grateful for any attention shown to them by people in power - were perceived as quitting their intended behind-the-scenes supportive roles of domesticity, childbirth and family rearing, to brazenly indulge their ambition, trumpet their personal arrogance and embrace financial success. 

As two income households became more common, the double standards applied to the genders became more evident. Women’s access to education was initially unequal. Then, when they eventually became successfully qualified, at levels equal or even superior to their male counterparts, in the professions or in the corporate world, they received disproportionately lower wages, and were selectively positioned and deployed in lower status positions. 

This placed them in an inferior situation within the organization in which they worked, vulnerable to exploitation, abuse, intimidation and harassment. Answerable to their employers, their immediate superiors, and the scrutiny of a hierarchy in which they were expected to be subordinate, they have had little opportunity for redress in the distressing situations in which many have suffered. 

Many women were explicitly told that, if they wished to rise in a vertical corporate hierarchy, they had in fact to do so on their knees, as supplicants, placating male egos and smilingly affirming the narcissism of those who dictated the culture of the company which paid their wages. Many employers expected sexual favors in exchange for promotion or reward, and did not care about the damage caused to a woman’s reputation in the industry, or her self worth and sense of self respect, let alone her professional productivity and work flow. 

I have recently read - with disbelief - a 20 page document detailing the extended harassment of a young professional woman in one of the most famous large corporations in this country, with attested testimony, and details of conversations and repeated approaches by her immediate boss, with dates and times supplied. 

The perpetrator in this case showed a clear pattern in the way he systematically attempted to impact this young lady, via deliberately sexualised conversations, projecting unwanted attention onto her, and singling out of her in front of her co workers and emotional manipulation, escalating to coercion, threats and punishments. This man had, in fact, a known history of similar conduct in other companies in which he had previously worked. But because he brought money and corporate connections into the company, and was seen as a valued senior employee, the HR department at this company ultimately failed to support the complainant, and did not pursue independent prosecution of his illegal and abusive conduct. The woman subsequently left the company to work in another sphere, despite herself having an exemplary professional record, and being on a clear path to promotion in the original company. 

MeToo as a movement, as the name suggests, was created to remedy the isolation felt by those targeted by sexual predators and abusers, by enabling individual stories to be told, and made public. This collective effort had to initially be made anonymously, to protect the identity of the victims and survivors. Only with the momentum created by multiple proven individual revelations could the exposure of predatory behaviour as a social phenomenon be successfully brought out into the open, with minimal damage to the victim, who was often blamed for hysteria, vengefulness or making false claims to destroy men of good public reputation. 

https://srilankamirror.com/biz/14949-icbt-marketing-director-sexually-molested-ceo-s-secretary

http://www.lankapost.com/icbt-campus-ceo-sexually-assaults-the-secretary/

In Sri Lanka, due to the endemic normalization of patriarchal values, and the socially endorsed disrespect accorded to women, young women until recently had no recourse but to keep their stories of being violated and intimidated private, to preserve their professional reputations. 

I was told by the female EIC of a major media publication a few years ago, that, when she was first appointed, a senior journalist had sent her unsolicited photographs of himself, shirtless and bare chested to her mobile phone. When she did not reply, after a while he sent a text saying the photographs had been ‘sent in error’. This person had been, until then, portraying himself as a mentor and a married man with children, with a powerful reputation in the industry for his writing. 

Many of the most respected and articulate journalists in Sri Lanka are women, and many also come from minority communities whose conservative values made it difficult for them to pursue their careers with the boldness needed to fulfil their ambitions and their talents. Many of these women are also activists, whose ongoing education, critical thinking skills and life experiences have committed them to raise awareness of issues of social injustice in their work. 

When they first started sharing their stories, just a short time ago, they used the reach of social media, in which they are well versed, to create a public space in which individual stories could be told. 

Many of the men they worked with when they first started in the media industry were narcissistic, entitled and lacking a sense of boundary or sense of what constitutes appropriate conduct. 

These young women, now in their early 30s, look back now on the behaviour to which they were subjected upon entry into the industry, which they were told was acceptable, which was normalized in the society in which they lived and worked, and are now openly asking why they did not speak out before. They had been ‘mentored’ and patronised by people who now are clearly shown to have a track record of predatory behaviour, bullying and toxic entitlement. Some of these men worked in NGOs and millennial-owned organizations, and - whether unconsciously or consciously - can be seen to have used the social liberal assumptions of these organizations as a form of virtue signalling, and an opaque, convenient camouflage for utilising the structures and processes of the organization to operate what (in some cases) can be seen as an ego-based fiefdom, or even a personal hunting ground. 

In Sri Lanka, the wider society operates in cliques, and these circles tend to close in when threatened, to exclude anyone who challenges those who hold power within each sphere, including women who have internalized the misogynistic values of their contexts in order to rise within the inequitable structures. If the MeToo movement is going to gain the momentum it needs, at this juncture, it is going to require determination, courage and strength and commitment on the part of the accusers, meticulous documentation, and endorsement by senior members of the very structures which the accusers and whistle blowers are daring to criticize. 

This movement in Sri Lanka has been some time in emerging. It started with independent digital media platforms like Groundviews, having the commitment to showcase the issues on their platforms. Countering Sexual Harassment in the work place: Interview with Mihiri de Silva – Groundviews 

Companies who want to do more than window dress their dedication to equity in the workplace are becoming aware that they need to become vigilant and alert, self evaluate, and do better, across the board. Experts in HR, industrial relations and corporate conduct like Gayani Ranasinghe are being invited to conduct workshops to raise awareness of the need for respect and high standards of ethical behaviour in the workplace. 

https://youtu.be/E1S0vVhVUc8

When you see harassment and abuse occurring in any workplace, do not ignore it or be a spectator. Recognize it as a threat to the company’s integrity. Name it. Question it. Challenge it. Change it.

Close To Home

My Father, Brendon Gooneratne, passed away last Monday. He had had a fall, on June 12th, and was recovering in a hospital close to home, with excellent care and medical attention. We have been upcountry for 18 months, due to the ongoing pandemic situation. Unvaccinated as yet, we felt my parents would be safest out of the population
density and congestion of Colombo.

Since March 2020, our family have had a wonderful experience of lockdown, with the news on the television or via the internet being the only intrusion. I had not spent so much time with the family for years, due to work commitments in Australia and here in Sri Lanka.

Thaththi recovered well from the surgery, and we were looking forward to him coming home to us. Unfortunately, an infection developed in his lungs late last week, and quickly spread systemically, so fast that it could not be stopped.

On Father’s Day, we saw him in life for the last time. We spoke to him, said everything we wanted to say, and held his hands. In some countries, that has not been possible for other families. I’m so sorry for those people.

I became sharply aware, after my brother’s untimely death in late 2019, that the members of my family have been friends all our lives, as well as blood relatives. We have been companions and partners in each other’s life adventures. Our existence in each other’s lives has been life affirming, and life enhancing. It has made everyday life resonant, poetic and meaningful.

Of course, when a life experience has been this good, you don’t want it to end.

But no one is immortal.

Any of us could pass away at any time. While we hear of people jumping queues and using privilege, influence and connections to gain access to tests and vaccines and treatment, we also know that each of us, including the queue jumpers, is a vulnerable human being. So it makes sense that we become aware of the fragility of our existence. No amount of privilege can offset that.

So instead of being filled with dread, let us be filled with gratitude. For every day, spent with those we have loved so long.

These last several days have been surreal. Many things I believed before have been upended, and overturned. The belief of an urban dweller for example, that the city has the best available resources and facilities.

Because of travel restrictions and danger of transmission of the Delta variant, the usual large funeral gatherings are not permissible to anyone. So we had a small, beautiful funeral upcountry with only the immediate family and staff present. With flowers from our gardens, which my Father had designed, 25 years ago. Instead of a huge, crude, vulgar, monstrous, extended social display of the kind we all hate.

Because we were upcountry, there were far fewer Coronavirus cases, and the less stressed doctors at Badulla General Hospital were able to give us the support and encouragement we needed, as well as extending their excellent medical attention to my Father.

The admitting doctors took 45 minutes on admittance to the hospital to explain in detail what the situation was, and the likely outcomes of all the choices that could be made. I was fully informed of the need for immediate surgery, and of the probabilities and possibilities which could result. There was some medical terminology I had to look up, but the overall picture was crystal clear.

The surgery was successful, and the trajectory of my Father’s recovery was shown in his diagnostic results and consecutive scans over the next few days. I was kept updated throughout, with a constant flow of information via WhatsApp, including X rays, data, details of medicine administered, and comparative scans. The reasons for each decision the doctors made were shared with me.

When the trajectory changed sharply, just before he passed away, I was kept informed on an hourly basis. And with daily visits, correlated with the data I was being given, I could see by Saturday that the infection which had started on Thursday evening had not responded to treatment, and had ignited a fire of inflammation within his system which was going to blaze until it destroyed everything in its path, taking his life with it.

This is where the flow of incoming data was so important, as we started to accept that our hopes and beliefs were not going to be fulfilled, this time. The numbers spoke a story that could not be denied. We could try to selectively focus on the few positive aspects, as they increasingly diminished, but not for long.

In order to prepare for this immense loss, we had to face the truth without any euphemism or evasion. I looked at those numbers and the texts sent by the doctors updating me on the results many times, trying to see them differently. The doctors would state what the new challenge was, and how they were intervening to remedy it. But I could see that everything they tried was getting less and less response.

It takes the human mind time to adjust to the enormity of events like this. But it helps when you are dealing with medical practitioners who are not only qualified and competent, but humane and compassionate. Who understand the patients’ family’s need to be informed, to reduce the terror of the unknown terrain, to overcome paralysis of the will, to mobilize, to fight alongside the medical team for the life of those we love.

This is not a Covid story. My Father tested negative both at entry and departure from the hospital.

But when put to the bigger test, of incoming challenges, amidst a pandemic, the medical staff won through, fighting to the end, and doing their best, in a way that filled us with admiration and respect. My Father, who had been a doctor himself, trained in this country, would have known he was being given the best of care, treated with dignity and respect, and insight and compassion, to the end.

In my Father’s memory, our family will be donating to this public hospital, the only one in Uva Province with the resources to help him, and we will seek to support other local healthcare facilities also, in the regional area around where we live. These skilled personnel in the public system need to be supported, to save more people’s lives. Their skill is great, and in my opinion cannot be bettered, but their resources, equipment and infrastructure must be supplemented.

I would urge those reading this article to donate to the hospitals in their local area, and invest in their local community. The medical staff you support now, close to home, will be the ones who you turn to when you or your family need urgent admittance at the OPD or ETU.

My advice to us all is to bloom where we are planted. Stay close to home. Love those who have loved us all our lives. This is the best adventure of all.

Look And Learn

My Father, Dr. Brendon Gooneratne, passed away just after Father’s Day this year, on Monday the 21st of June. We were blessed to have known him, as our husband, father, and friend. He was a remarkable man, and unique in the breadth of his interests and the number of fields in which he excelled.

Wikipedia will tell you that he was a physician, a writer of several books, a renowned cricketer as a young man, and a wildlife and conservation activist. He wrote his personal memoirs in 2016, and this book, titled ‘The Good, The Bad and The Different’, details some of the interesting life experiences he had: his extensive travels, the personal lessons learned in his professional life, his enthusiasm for history, archaeology and the natural world, the lively opinions he had of the people he encountered.

Most people live a life defined by their professional vocation. Indeed, life is such that there is little time for us to actively pursue or engage in anything other than practise the profession in which we operate. But my Father was able to engage in multiple spheres of professional activity, and follow and fulfil a number of interests throughout his life.

He achieved a great deal in many fields, but he was also quite modest, personally. When I was young, I once gave him a poster on Father’s Day, which said ‘Shine on me Father, so I can reflect your light’. It had a beautiful sunlit seascape behind it. Thaththi said, ‘You know this is a religious poster, Devika. It’s meant to express your feeling for God. I’m just a man!’ I said of course I knew the difference! And I insisted he have it, and put it on the wall of his study.

My Father had a broad based, classical education at Royal College in the 1950s, a golden era in the island of Sri Lanka. He was always grateful, proud and appreciative of the excellent free education the country offered to him and his contemporaries, on which so many brilliant careers were founded. He loved reading poetry and literature as well as history. He enjoyed the work of P.G. Wodehouse and Somerset Maugham, and has a large number of popular novels in his library.

We grew up reading Punch, and The New Yorker, and when my brother and I were little we loved The National Geographic, and Look and Learn Magazine. Being able to discuss our developing interests in the world with such a knowledgeable and enthusiastic person made an adventure out of life for us, as children.

He loved David Attenborough’s wildlife programmes, but he was no mere armchair traveller. He loved going to countries like Egypt and South America, and Africa, and going on safari. He observed the life of the people, and developed some insight into the cultures which formed them, and the challenges they faced. My lifelong love of travel is shared with him, and he loved to hear of my experiences in Argentina and Ireland, and viewing the Aurora Borealis from a plane.

He told us once that the saddest sight he had ever seen was poor people in a drought and civil war ridden country fighting each other for grains of rice that had fallen off a truck which was engaged in humanitarian relief. Poverty and hunger strip away our humanity and our dignity, he said. And not one of us is immune from that degradation, if our life circumstances are against us.

My Father had a fall on Saturday the 12th of June. The doctors who examined him after admission to hospital did a detailed medical history, and asked me about a scar on his shoulder. I explained that this was the result of an incident in Nepal, many years ago, when Thaththi had been on a wildlife safari and had been chased by rhinoceroses. To save himself, he leaped into a tree, one handed, as his camera equipment was in the other, and hung there until the rhinos left. He had dislocated his shoulder, and just had a patch up job done at the camp.

Being young and healthy at that time, he thought nothing of it. He had a great capacity to heal quickly. Twenty years later, he found he couldn’t move that arm without pain. The doctors in Sydney who did reconstructive surgery on his shoulder asked him how he got the injury and didn’t believe him when he told them. But it was true!

He was a great friend to all of us, and a tremendous encourager, in the challenges of life. Once at a terrible time in my own life, I felt like giving up after a series of back to back calamities immediately following the loss of someone I dearly loved. My Father did not tell me to get over it, or count my blessings. He said, ‘It’s true that you have had a lot to contend with lately. But you know, you haven’t yet seen the range of experiences life offers us all. Life brings us a wealth of opportunities. Don’t make a decision on insufficient information. Life goes in cycles, and this period will pass and good will come. Hold on, and keep going, if you can. We will give you all our support. It’s worth it, believe me.’

As a family, we have a million memories of things we did together, with concerts and films and jungle trips and whale watching. The early morning rounds to watch animals, drinking hot tea made with condensed milk before sunrise, star gazing and the smell of kerosene lamps at night, the sunrises on the East coast, the visiting of caves and ancient sites, the viewing of the fireworks on my birthday. The slightly clumsy parcel wrapping of our birthday gifts, and the huge cards to express his big love.

My Father was interested in so many things that he was fascinating to talk to. For the last 18 months in lockdown, we have had a wonderful companion to share movies and music and political discussions with. We enjoyed cooking him some of his favourite foods, from his student days in England. He loved Italy, and Italian cuisine, loved that I cooked pasta sauces with home grown basil during lockdown, and was very sad when the kind and genial proprietor of Dolce Italia, Colombo, passed away recently.

Through knowing him, I came to see a different era, the one which formed my parents, when the world was not yet so given to materialism, consumerism, superficiality and self-centeredness, and the systems of education were not so broken down. He was saddened by the escalating destruction of the environment, and the short sighted actions of those in temporal power. He was exasperated at the lack of ethics, the brazen hypocrisy and the spineless shenanigans of many so called leaders in the world today. What sort of an example were they giving the generation to follow?

For my Father’s birthday this year, we went to see the elephants at Uddawallawe national park, and had a glorious day of jeep travel and animal watching. His was such a vivid personality, even in his older years, that we still feel he is with us. All these events we shared seem recent, although they span many decades.

He used to wake me up early years ago, when I said I needed to study, and he would wake me up early recently if I needed to get up and do a podcast or a Zoom at 2am in the U.S., and didn’t think I could get up in time, or stay awake that long. Go and rest, and I will wake you, he said. And he always did.

This Father’s Day, I sat with him in the hospital and saw that, despite all our hopes and beliefs, he was not going to be able to come back to us. I sang to him one of his favourite songs, ‘Young At Heart’. The lyrics sum up his radiant, open-hearted attitude to life.

‘Fairy tales can come true
It can happen to you
If you’re young at heart.

For it’s hard you will find
To be narrow of mind
If you’re young at heart.

You can go to extremes
with impossible schemes
You can laugh when your dreams
Fall apart at the seams.

And life gets more exciting with each passing day
And love is either in your heart
Or on its way.

Don’t you know that it’s worth
Every treasure on earth
If you’re young at heart?

For as rich as you are,
it’s much better by far
To be young at heart.

And if you should survive to 105,
Think of all you’ll derive
Out of being alive!

And here is the best part:
You have a head start
If you are among the very young at heart.’

We are honored and blessed to have known him, and grateful to have been his companions in the adventures of his life.

We are glad he left very clear instructions for us. His specifications for his coffin were: ‘Good honey-coloured wood. Straightforward design. No frills, no ornamentation, no bloody nonsense.’

The joy that pulses through every living thing, which connects us, is deeper even than our sorrow.

Vale, Brendon Gooneratne.

You Can’t Take It With You

Photo credit: Sandya Salgado

I recently had a conversation with a friend, in which she said that while she and her family are ok for food supplies during current travel restrictions, she feels anxious about those who are more vulnerable, and less prepared: the daily wage workers who cannot go to work, the people who spend every rupee of their salary on rent and rates and cannot save money, or cannot afford to buy in bulk to stock up their store cupboards.

My friend said:

‘I can’t focus on anything else when people are suffering. I’m too much of an empath and it affects me through and through.’

She shared a video on WhatsApp which was taken in a large local hospital, which showed Covid patients sleeping on mats on the ground, and the verandah of the hospital building, due to lack of beds.

I asked her how sharing videos like this could help matters. Wasn’t she merely depressing and upsetting people, because they couldn’t do anything to help? Her reply?

‘FYI by sharing like this I was able to galvanize people all over to donate and help building houses and also donate household effects and clothes etc for families badly affected by floods a few years ago. People in England and in Australia and several here gave generously when they saw the horrors those poor people were experiencing. I will make things happen. I will not hide my head in the sand and pretend everything is fine outside my high walls where I have everything. Someone has to draw attention to what these poor helpless people are suffering !!!!’

It’s not an easy thing to ask people during a crisis like this pandemic to be generous, and empathic, and to think and act beyond their own survival and that of their own immediate family, to the needs of the wider community.

I think we need to think like the virus behaves, in order to combat it. We need to think of impacting exponential numbers. We know that this illness spreads like wildfire through community transmission. So to meet this challenge we need to think in terms of community support. Especially during national lockdown and periods of enforced travel restrictions.

It makes absolute sense in this situation to support the people closest to us: our family, our neighbors, our local community and our local business owners. But above all, as this is a public health crisis, we should see how we can all support our local hospitals and the medical personnel and administrative staff who work in these facilities.

They need not only our respect, and our thoughts and prayers. The facilities they work in, need donations: not only financial donations, but donations of medical equipment, and beds, and personal protective equipment (PPE).

Hospitals throughout the country are calling for donations to purchase ICU Beds, Oxygen Concentrators both large and small, High Flow Oxygen Therapies, Oxygen Cylinders, Pulse Oximeters, and K95 masks and PPE for medical and nursing staff. Rotary Groups are raising money from their members through crowdfunding to provide the expensive equipment required to specified hospitals.

They don’t say so, but it’s clear that the medical personnel who are on duty are working double shifts, away from their families and homes, and they could do with some supplies of food, snacks, coffee and Milo, or Sustagen, or Nestomalt, and some blankets and sheets and pillows and towels for the times when they can get a couple of hours’ sleep between shifts.

It makes sense for us to support the communities in which we live. By supporting and stocking up the medical supplies in our local hospitals, we increase our own chances of survival if we have to enter these health facilities. By rounding off every payment we make to a local business which is maximizing our safety through arranging contactless delivery to our home, to the nearest 500 or 1000 LKR, we can directly support their drivers and their staff.

By thanking the staff at our local Food City and Keells, and small convenience stores, who wear masks and shields and provide us with exemplary service, adding up and bagging our purchased items, we encourage them as they support us, through personally recognizing their dedication. By giving a bit extra to everyone, we can help everyone stock up as much as possible on their essential needs.

If every person who was capable of giving 2-5,000 LKR to their own local hospital would do so, the shortfall would be rapidly reduced. There are enough citizens who could donate in such a way that the support could be continuous until it is no longer required.

This would supplement the current capabilities of the public health care system, in a targeted and effective way. All it would need to be effective would be for a designated person in each hospital to handle and account for incoming goods and monies, so that the donations would directly benefit those they are intended for.

This targeted support, if implemented now would operate in an incremental way, to match the concurrent increase in vaccination implementation, and the increasing public awareness of the need for self care and personal and household hygiene and cleanliness, to reduce the severity of symptoms and support high levels of immunity in every individual.

Another friend of mine, commenting on the scenario we currently face, said: ‘I think countries which claim to be socialist often create a feeling in the citizens that the state is responsible, not you. In this pandemic, those with the contacts and connections to request special treatment will inevitably try to jump the queue, leaving the vulnerable destitute of support. Under those circumstances, it would be best for all in a position to do so to show charity to those known to you, who are directly connected to you or your own extended family. By all means cast that net wide, but be clear who is giving what to whom.’

This pandemic has shown all of us what our personal priorities are: who cares, and who does not. It’s showing us what is under the surface of everything, from the efficiency and equitability of our public systems, to the faces of our friends.

Sensational News

Many years ago, in the early 2000s, I read an article in a magazine called The Diplomat. The cover story was about a woman calling herself ‘Souad’ who had written a best-selling memoir called ‘Burned Alive’. In fact, the story was not just ‘about’ this woman, but an exposure of the inconsistencies in her sensational story. The writer, an Australian academic and historian called Therese Taylor, did a brilliant job of applying logic and scepticism to the story told by Souad. Objective, factual and determined in her approach, Taylor wrote a brilliant piece of hard-hitting analysis.

I used this article as a teaching resource material for a groundbreaking course which was part of the A-Level English Literature syllabus in New South Wales, and part of a learning module called Representation and Text. The course taught critical thinking skills - deconstructing texts to remove the distorting impacts of exaggeration, understatement, selective omission, sensationalisation and other forms of misrepresentation of truth.

Taylor’s article was perfect for the topic. Her deconstruction of the narrative of Souad noted patterns of contradiction and assertions which directly conflicted with each other.


She applied scientific method, starting by identifying the emotive nature of the reviews of the book, and the way they ignored the inconsistencies in Souad’s narrative. This raised an alarm bell for her. The overview presented Souad as a victim, and Taylor identified the factors which made this representation so credible, including the historical context of the story.


Taylor summed up the story in a succinct but pointed overview: ‘Burned Alive, published pseudonymously under the name Souad, tells the story of a Palestinian girl who survived an attempted honor killing, fled her homeland in 1979, and now lives under a false name in Europe.’


Souad told a story of horrific and sustained suffering, from extreme poverty in childhood to chronic misogynistic treatment, the terrible normalization of barbaric cultural practices perpetrated on her because she was a woman, and finally her survival of attempted murder through an honor killing.


Step by step, Taylor countered in her subsequent analysis the claims made by Souad with investigative questions and contextual facts. Inevitably and sequentially, she formulated a theory which explained the inconsistencies she observed. Only then did she reach a conclusion.


Taylor noted several discrepancies in the harrowing tale of suffering detailed by Souad in her origin story. The two most significant are her description of seeing a sister of hers strangled with a telephone cord, and the actual degree to which she had suffered burns to her body by having kerosene poured on her head and set alight.


Taylor points out that at the date Souad said the strangling incident occurred, ‘None of the villages in the West Bank were connected to the telephone line as early as 1977... In fact, the vast majority of smaller communes still have no phone lines.’ In the article I read, Taylor notes without drama that ‘the means to commit this murder did not exist’.


As for the burns? The visible sign of her victimization? Taylor says, ‘Initially Souad claimed she had

burns to 90 % of her body, and the British translation stated that her son was born three months premature.’ When Taylor checked these assertions, and sent queries reproaching the publishers for such impossible claims, the London publishers explained that these points ‘had been made in error’ and would later be revised. The sensationalized story was a best seller in 2003.


The estimated degree of severity of the burns was reduced from 90% to 60%. If the reporting of a medical fact like this can be so wildly divergent, the whole story looks less than credible.


Taylor places this fantastic story told by Souad in the historical context of the immediate aftermath of 9/11. A tale in which a woman who has been victimized by her own countrymen and whose narrative supports the demonization of the Arab world got great traction in that vengeful, anti-terrorist world, in which bearded men in robes were otherised and maligned, and believed capable of every atrocity against innocent women.


Taylor’s publication of her article in The Diplomat, the Australian magazine where I saw it, resulted in Burned Alive coming under critique, as it ‘showed that the entire story was filled with errors of fact, and that Souad’s central claim to have survived for six weeks without any medical care, despite having petrol burns to most of her body, was physically impossible’.


The truth is hard to reach when it is veiled and layered with multiple falsehoods and serviceable subterfuges.
Taylor’s articles on Souad, ‘Truth, History and Honour Killing’ and ‘Fabricated: A Tale Of Two Memoirs’ are available online.


Taylor’s conclusion after her detailed investigation into the incident was that Souad had spun the story to specifically appeal to the biases of the Western audience. ‘Our society is strongly marked by the culture of victim hood,’ says Taylor. ‘This longing for victim voices causes sensationalist accounts to be favoured, and the more delicate testimonies of real people are drowned out in an irrational clamour.’


In ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’, that famous story of justice, bias and prejudice by Harper Lee, the young girl who narrates the story tells us ‘Atticus (her father, a lawyer) told me to delete the adjectives, and I’d have the facts’.


That’s an excellent rule of conduct, when dealing with people who have vested interests in exaggerating and distorting facts in order to present themselves as worthy of our investment in them and their suffering.


Therese Taylor’s work on this matter can also be read in ‘Truth, History, and Honor Killing’ on Antiwar.com and in ‘Fabricated: A Tale Of Two Memoirs’.

Positive Thinking

My colleague and friend Kumudini David recently had a PCR test done and tested positive for COVID-19. She was given the choice of staying in a hotel or a resort but could not afford that, as the cost is about LKR 250,000 for the period of supervised quarantine. Kumu opted for the local quarantine centre alternative, monitored and controlled by the Sri Lankan Government, which is provided free of charge to all citizens who are in mandatory quarantine, and supervised by the SL Army.

Kumu has kept a detailed journal of her experience at this facility, from the bus trip to the allocated regionally located quarantine centre, through the days that followed, updating her friends and followers on Facebook.

The updates were fascinating to read, and I am not the only one who included the reading of these bulletins as part of my daily routine. What interested me particularly was the radical change in Kumudini’s approach as she confronted the challenges she faced, both personally and in the situations of the women she was quarantined with, at Rambukkana Quarantine Centre.

The period of quarantine took place in a large building belonging to the Brandix Company, and this facility is run in partnership by the Sri Lankan Army and the Kegalle Hospital, which had been offered for the purpose of providing space for those who had tested Covid positive to quarantine during this period of the pandemic crisis.

Kumu’s initial photographs showed metal beds and understandably unadorned premises. This was a basic facility. Because it was free of cost to those quarantining. They had been given half an hour to get the essential items they needed for a 10-14 day stay away from their homes, and many were not prepared.

Those in quarantine were divided by gender and initially also by ethnic community. The women in Kumu’s quarantine centre were faced with toilets which were in a bad state, and those who were menstruating or pregnant or had just given birth were concerned about their sanitation and hygiene needs. Sanitary napkins and towels and nappies for infants were urgently needed. Hygienic disposal of these was also needed, as these processes were not initially foremost in the minds of most of the male personnel in charge.

Many were traumatized: not only by worries for themselves, and how they individually would respond to the onset of the illness, but by being separated from their children and families for an extended period of time. They were worried about not being able to be in contact with husbands and kids, and elderly parents who they were caring for. Their phones needed to be reloaded, to ensure that this contact was sustained.

That first day, as we can see in her report, Kumu was stressed, and anxious, and also angry. But it only took a few hours before she realized that she was not powerless and did not have to be resigned and passive in this situation.

She did not waste time in self pity, or extended bouts of anxiety, or in complaining about the authorities or the shortcomings in the system, or the state of the world. Kumu is a practical and optimistic person, and in the years I have known her I have seen how she faces down oncoming challenges with energy and intelligence.

She has both high IQ and EQ, and this dynamic fusion of leadership qualities was strongly illustrated by what she did next.

She heard the complaints and worries of the women around her, and she started on Day 2 to set in place certain unofficial processes by which these concerns were heard and addressed. She asked them all to list all the things they individually needed, and worked out how much this would cost.

She then turned to her extensive network of friends and colleagues on Facebook and presented us with the reality of the situation, and asked us to raise funds by donating whatever we could, not only in terms of finances, transferred electronically or via direct deposit, but in the form of actual goods. These included Astra margarine, staples like milk powder, rice and lentils, and also tinned and dry food packets, cleaning liquids and soap powder to wash their clothes. The children were able to be given drawing books and coloured pencils.

Kumu’s circle met her request with generosity and promptness. She was able to raise almost a million rupees in a few days, an extraordinary result. This amount was in excess of what was required for this particular group of women, so some of the funds will be allocated to store goods for future inmates, and also for other quarantine facilities which are in need of this community-funded support.

It is her hope that others will be inspired and encouraged to do the same in the weeks and months ahead, as the community increasingly gets tested and the extent of the virus’s transmission is traced. Many people have been reluctant to be tested, as they were anxious about the very situation faced by Kumu and her fellow inmates - of abrupt loss of freedom and confinement in circumstances over which they had no control.

That first day, the women gave Kumu a nickname in Sinhala which she immediately embraced, and wears with pride. Despite experiencing some of the symptoms of the coronavirus, including fatigue, mild fever and headaches, she lifted and moved the metal beds in the facility into better arrangements and positions in the facility, according to the other women’s needs. They named her their ‘Sister who moves beds’.

Kumudini is a fellow graduate of SEALA (South East Asia Leadership Academy), and during our programme in 2018 her nickname was ‘The Warrior’. She is a born leader. She laughs and says she is bossy and outspoken. But she embodied great leadership, in this situation. What we all learned in concept and theory at the Academy was put into direct practice here, by her, and we all see how effective it is.

Kumu acted in the Rambukkana Quarantine Centre as an unofficial hall monitor, making sure that when the goods came, brought in boxes via vehicles packed and driven by her friends from Colombo, that the ladies lined up and received equitable amounts of everything as per their real requirements. No pushing, no shoving, no arguing, no meanness.

Kumu’s story is an inspiring example of how one person’s positive approach to the biggest crisis of our time can benefit hundreds of others with whom she is in contact. Previously unknown to each other, and with many differences in social class, level of education and personal upbringing, they formed a community under her leadership and as a result of her initiative.

We hope that this story will go viral, and prompt others to realize that with co-operation and determination and a good attitude, through our collaborative efforts we can turn even this challenge which confronts us into an opportunity for growth, learning and even blessing.

The crucial point is that it is the attitude of positive determination and empathy that enabled Kumudini to do this. She did not judge anyone or trivialize anyone’s situation. She didn’t feel paralyzed or helpless for long. She took action, with understanding of the real needs (both spoken and unspoken) of those she was acting for. She acted to represent them to act positively in a situation where they initially must have felt helpless and despairing. And she represented all of them.

Kumu says: ‘The segregation didn't last. We are all working together now. I will continue to work on helping this Quarantine Centre and others.’

Note: This image of Kumudini David was created by the artist Randy Chriz Perera.