Responding to a friend’s inquiry on my silence I realised how much I valued being away from home. I actually responded saying I was out and glad to keep away from the madness when he asked me how I was keeping and why he hadn’t heard from me.

Of course I was looking forward to seeing my family and friends. But I hurriedly forwarded the various mails to a few interested contacts and deleted them without reading them myself. I wanted a respite from the situation reports from this or that place, the press releases by this or that body condemning this or that attack.

I felt the reverse of what someone returning home after a stay abroad would probably feel. I want to think I will return with a nostalgic longing for the familiar.

Instead, I exited the airport with my elbows out, a frown and a blank and unseeing stare. I was grateful that I wasn’t subjected to the same humiliating and invasive “body search” I got on my way out. I was glad for the tinted glasses on the car. I could see the soldiers, trussed up in their uniforms in the heavy heat, wielding their guns.

I will myself to look beyond the gun barrels and see the tired boys. But instead I see hard and piercing looks. Mouths twisted in sardonic grins.

I will myself to meet their gaze unwaveringly, politely and confidently. But instead I find myself steeling myself to meet the onslaught.

I will myself to see through their eyes. They must be tired and on edge. It must be hard to be on the alert all the time. It must be hard to stand out in the heat and check and recheck and check. But instead I find myself shutting down and closing in.

I will myself to understand that I have nothing to fear. I look quite the modern working girl. I have made sure that my dress, attitude and accessories say just that. I was born in a town which is uncontroversial. So what if I’m classified as a Tamil. I’m not a terrorist. But I’m already anxious and hating them for making me feel this way.

I will myself to believe that no one can control the way I feel. I am the master of myself. But the vicious cycle is already in motion as he looks at my ID looks at my face, sticks his head inside the van and looks at my bags and myself. “What are you doing here?” he asks me in Sinhala. “I’m sorry I don’t speak Sinhala” I lie. The driver hurriedly explains that I am an “airport hire”. The soldier leafs through my passport, gives me another “once over” and motions us on. I gladly shut the window and hope I am not stopped at anymore check points.

I can’t help feeling guilty that many others may not be able to get off as easily as I did. I am instinctively bracing myself for some unseen trouble and think I don’t have to go out again to get groceries if I can pick up something on my way home. I wonder if someone back out there will be so nice as to tell me, “That’s ok, it’s natural in your circumstance”.

I wonder if it can be safely classified and named, maybe something like “the Terrorist Complex”. Hopefully that way it can be treated and I can feel normal again.

This video clip contains a brief interview with A.L Thavam – Chairperson of Akkaraipattu Pradeshiya Saba (local government).

It is presented here as is, without analysis or comment.

Summary of the interview.

• Feels that Batticoloa election was successful because of the lack of incidents, and says therefore Government has been successful in liberating the Eastern Province.
• Acknowledges there may have been ‘little incidents’ but says these do not carry significance when the bigger picture is considered.
• Says that if the people did not want to vote, they could have made a mark on the ballot paper and submitted it – in effect, just pretended to vote. But says the number of these kinds of votes were very little, so feels that most people voted for who they wanted to. Also says (not on the video clip) that only “two or three seats were there for the Muslim community” and therefore the theory that the Tamils voted in order to prevent Muslim members having control over the district, is “rumour”.
• In terms of fighting for Muslim rights and autonomy, says they (Muslims) believe in the democratic way because the experience of the Tamil community shows that the “extremist way” won’t work.
• Says that from time to time there are “communal feeling leaders” who cause problems, but generally they are unsuccessful. Says that “a majority of the Sinhalese and the Tamils and the Muslims are willing to live together and willing to respect each other”. Continues on to say that he doesn’t think the JVP or the JHU or other groups can divide the people through communalism.
• Asks why Sinhalese can’t come to the East, if Muslims can travel to other parts of Sri Lanka and purchase land and build mosks. But stresses that the motivation for Sinhalese coming to the East should not be as part of a military strategy.
• Concludes by asking “Why can’t the Tamils come to Akkraipattu? Why can’t the Sinhalese come to Akkaraipattu? And why can’t we live together?”

By K. Ratnam

It is as if the city of Batticaloa has become a red hot furnace due to the scorching sun. Yet at high noon there is a pall of gloom that hangs over the city. People who have come to attend to their requirements are wandering about hither and thither in a mighty hurry to get back as if a storm were expected any time.

It is likely their only objective is to achieve their needs and leave the city as fast as possible.

What is happening in Batticaloa these days?
If the Government is asked this question, a probable response would be: “these days we are sowing the seeds of democracy.” In other words, they hope to widen the limits of democracy by arranging for an election in Batticaloa.

However the residents in and around Batticaloa are under a reign of terror, the only difference is the one who wield the weapons. They live in a state of anxiety with only fear and uncertainty as their constant companions.

Battocaloa residents said that shootings, murders, abductions or levying of taxes which occur frequently continue without any sign of ceasing.

The community in Batticaloa is assaulted by the vagaries of nature such as the Tsunami, floods, cyclones etc., while carrying the burden of war thrust on them. As if showing off to the world that the situation is much better than it actually is, the government has further burdened them with an election to demonstrate the legitimacy of democracy.

It is no secret that armed gangs that roam the streets have now been replaced by several groups or factions of the earlier pro-Karuna faction which broke away from the LTTE.

The farmers who toil in the fields and the threshing-floor for grains of rice, the fishermen who wrestle with the ferocious waves as well as people who are engaged in another livelihood who strive in order to survive have to face the terror devoid of nationality, religion and caste.

This election which descended upon them has not in any way helped foster happiness or please the Batticaloa community who wait with longing in their eyes for a day when they would be able to engage in their livelihood freely.

The reason being that the local government elections which will be held on March 10 - the first time in 14 years will be far from one that is representative of the people.

It has been a cause of worry for the general public that terrorist groups have come forward to contest the elections with the blessing of the Government under the guise of democrats.

The law abiding public questions the fact that the Government is preparing to establish democracy in Batticaloa by putting forward these murderous gangs.

The residents have a morbid fear of what awaits them in the future. They do not speak about it as it is a matter of surviving from dawn till dusk everyday. Seeing the sullen faces of these hapless people I was reminded of a Verse in the Bible:

“And the brother shall deliver up the brother to death, and the father the child and the children shall rise up against their parents and cause them to be put to death” (Matthew:21)

The Batticaloa district is itself a refugee camp for those who’ve become destitute. A large number of refugees from Batticaloa as well from the Trincomalee live in these refugee camps.

According to government statistics more than 7,000 families are resident here. The total number of persons is more than 25,000 inclusive of young children, widows and elders. It is almost two years since these people who have been left detitute by the war and were driven from their home to live in these camps. Most of the camp residents say that the food rations provided by the World Food Programme every 15 days is insufficient to survive.

“It is true we are poor, but we somehow had three meals a day and lived contentedly with our children. Now, we do not have meals. Each person gets 1kilo and 80 grams of rice for 15 days. The children complain that they are hungry. What can we do?” says P. Thangavadivel (58), a father of five at the Ooranie refugee camp situated close to the Batticaloa town.

The 148 families are resident at the Ooranie camp. They are a group of war refugees who arrived from Muttur and Sampoor.

These people who lived in their villages were herded into these camps because of the cruel war. A major problem of these people who live amidst a thousand and one difficulties and hardships, is the fact that they have no way of appeasing their pangs of hunger.

J.A. Sudha (28), a mother of two who arrived at the Ooranie camp from Eechalampattu in Trincomalee is a widow who lost her husband in the war. “We left our village with the children, with whatever we could carry with us. We do not know when we can go back to our villages but we have no choice. We have suffered a lot so far. The children cry in hunger. We feel sorry for them,” she laments.

“A kilo of rice costs Rs 90-95. A coconut costs Rs. 40-45. So, how can we survive? ” Ponnambalam Thavaraja (56), who was engaged in fishing in a suburban lagoon asked us. The death knell has been sounded for the fishing profession too. “We are unable to catch fish because they have laid drag nets and large nets in this lagoon as well. No one is able to end this illegal activity.”

Although polls to elect representatives to nine Provincial Councils in the Batticaloa district, from the general public has already been announced there hardly any interest shown by the general public.
IGP-Batticaloa Police, Dayasiri Nugera told us that all candidates contesting the elections would be provided with two police officers per candidate for their protection.

Several people we met in Batticaloa who were reluctant to reveal their identity were convince the Batticaloa elections would pushed power into the hands of armed gangs and groups.

Although the government rejoiced at the liberation of the Eastern province from the clutches of the LTTE the same cannot be said for those belonging to civil society while armed gangs in Batticaloa are strengthened daily.

It is doubtful if the people of Batticaloa will witness a dawn which they can savour free of fear and suspicion.

This submission is from Groundview, an independent publication by CHA on humanitarian issues and peacebuilding in Sri Lanka with narratives and content produced by citizens.

Prominant Civil Socity activist and Lawyer Nimalka Fernando speaks on the withdrawal of IIGEP (International Independent Group of Eminent Persons) and its implications for human rights protection in Sri Lanka.

An armed group abducted my younger brother this month. He was 25 years old. They came in a van in early February at around 8.30 in the night.

I am the eldest son in my family and I returned to Mannar after my marriage. After one year I told my parents to come down to Sri Lanka since a ceasefire agreement was signed between LTTE and the government. They returned to Mannar after 12 years from India.

As soon as he was abducted I informed the ICRC, FCE, Citizen Committees and CHA. My abducted brother is the youngest in our family. He neither knows nor has any connection with any militant group.

Yet he was abducted.

We searched all over but we could not find him. In early March I suddenly got an anonymous call. The person one who spoke to me over the phone did not tell me his name or address. He just said, “Your brother is in the Colombo National Hospital”.

The following day we went to the hospital where we found my brother, lying on a bed. He was senseless and restless. We could see that he had gone through a lot of pain.

The doctors advised us to not ask him anything until he fully recovers.

That may be a long wait.