SRI LANKA

WAVES of DEATH and PEACE

By Sunila Abeysekera

"All kinds of spaces have opened up that did not exist before."

Our island has been given many names by travelers through the ages. The name Serendib is my favorite because to me Sri Lanka is serendipity—a colorful and hybrid nation teeming with tropical flavors, the fragrance of spices, easy-going movements, and varied cultural expressions.

Diverse civilizations have flourished here, nurturing and enriching one another. European colonizers from Portugal, Holland, and England ruled the island for over 500 years until 1948, when Ceylon, as it was then known, became an independent country. The sea around us was the source of life, energy, and endless pleasure. It was the sea that brought the earliest travelers to our shores and that lent its rhythm to our lives.

On December 26, 2004, our love of the ocean waters changed forever. The sea transformed itself into an angry, raging monster that snatched away people and homes without distinction. Those who saw the towering 30-foot wave said, "But it wasn't like the sea at all. This was dark and oily."

Yet it was not the first dark wave of death that our country has seen.

In the years since Independence, the people of Sri Lanka have achieved impressive development with high literacy rates, low maternal mortality statistics, and equal rates of enrollment in schools for boys and girls. But in the 1970s, things started to deteriorate. Youth unemployment and the erosion of democratic principles by successive governments led young men and women, in both the South and in the North of the island, to take up arms. In the North, it was a struggle of a minority community, the Tamils, for self-determination and equality. In the South, it was the youth of the majority community, the Sinhala, who demanded social and economic justice.

Since that time, Sri Lanka has been soaked in one of the world's forgotten wars. Over the last two decades, ethnic conflict, primarily between armed, militant minority-Tamil groups and Sri Lankan government security-forces, has caused tens of thousands of deaths, the destruction of precious natural resources, and the displacement of over a million people. Both the army and the insurgents have been responsible for massacres, disappearances, ethnic riots, and bombings of civilians in public areas.

The extreme violence has given rise to a culture of silence. In Sri Lanka, you fear that if you raise your voice against injustice, the punishment will be a brutal death.

In spite of the fear, women—mothers, sisters, and wives of those who were killed, "disappeared," or in exile—have seen no other choice but to take on the responsibility of maintaining their families and becoming socially and politically active at the same time.

In the South and North, women have formed Mothers' Fronts and taken to the streets, demanding information about their missing children from the authorities.

Ordinary women came forward to risk their lives for the sake of justice. Most of them had never before played an active role in politics. They were mothers and housewives, women whose lives were circumscribed by the home and the family. But in the face of injustice, at times taking brooms and pots into thoroughfares, it was they who challenged those in power.

Through their activism, women have become acutely aware of the similarities of their lives under a "gun" culture. They have reached out in small and creative ways across ethnic barriers that have divided them. They have negotiated with each other and with those in power for a small piece of normalcy—to let their children go to school, to market, or to the hospital. They've joined hands in campaigns against domestic violence and for women's rights using theater, paintings, and posters to draw public attention to the brutalization of women. They sing, write poetry, and dream.

Many women have paid with their lives for their dreams. My friend Rajini Thiranagama, a founder of the University Teachers for Human Rights in Jaffna (UTHR-J), was assassinated in September 1989 for reporting on human rights abuses committed by both the Sri Lankan and Indian militaries as well as by the armed militant groups. She was a Tamil woman, married to a Sinhala man with two young daughters. Rajani is one among the thousands who have given their lives. Others have survived by going into exile. But many have also remained in Sri Lanka, sowing the seeds of reconciliation and healing within their communities.

In 2002, the signing of a ceasefire agreement brought us real hope. Ordinary people heaved a sigh of relief. Thousands of people traveled across the island for the first time in many years. Our ravaged country had a chance to start off on a long process of reconstruction and reconciliation.

Then the tsunami struck.

As we struggle to come to terms with the death and destruction caused by the tsunami, the networks we have built over the years of conflict are sustaining us. The friendships and laughter of our past save us. In each house, someone is dead or missing. Homes built together over years of toil have been reduced to rubble.

In the immediate aftermath, five different women's networks that have worked collectively in the past for peace and justice came together to set up a coalition to monitor the situation of tsunami-affected women and to extend material and human support. This coalition, CATAW, has set up a fund to take care of the special needs of women, linking the reconstruction and reconciliation needs of years of war with the immediate needs created by the tsunami. The group offers practical and material help to vulnerable groups, ensures that their security and dignity is guaranteed, and pushes for the equal participation of women in decision-making throughout the rebuilding efforts.

Many of the women in the devastated areas are so very brave. Rajeswary, a 42-year-old worker in the Batticaloa Hospital in the East, has been displaced over 12 times in her lifetime. Today she works in the hospital and spends her spare time lobbying for the daily needs of people in her resettlement camp. Sitralega, a lecturer at the Eastern University, lost all of her books and music, a lifetime's collection. She plays a leading role working with disaster management units in her town. Women who were battered by war must now reconstruct their lives once again. From where can they find the courage to rebuild yet again?

Somehow, the courage re-appears.

In all the temporary relocation sites, I see women actively involved in the day-to-day tasks leading them back to something that resembles their prior lives. Some ask us for support to go back to work. My organization, INFORM, has been linked to many of these women through our partnership in human rights documentation. Now, we return to these communities to offer our condolences and support their rebuilding efforts. In Kolavil, Akkarapattu (Eastern Province), a women's sewing collective is now unable to function because they gave all the clothes they had stitched for sale to the displaced people. They ask us for money, perhaps $50 in U.S. currency, to start sewing again, a critical step towards reclaiming their lives.

Young women are more enterprising. "Can you get us a scooter?" they ask us. Once we look at the distances they have to travel to keep in touch with the communities where they work, we agree that this is a must. "Get your driving licenses," we tell them, "and we will see." Two weeks later, they telephone, excitedly. They have, four of them, begun their driving lessons.

For those whose livelihoods are intimately connected to the beach, the key issue is their ability to remain close to the shore. They are saddened that the government has announced that no permanent structures can be erected on the beach; a "buffer zone" of 100 meters has been declared.

Life slowly resumes, but everything is a struggle: for children to go to school, for adults to go to work, for women and children to feel safe from violence and abuse.

Let our voices be heard!

This is the call of the Sri Lankan women facing the towering challenges of post-tsunami reconstruction. Their courage and determination meets the authorities at every step, as they demand their rights and claim their space in the public arena as heads of household and as decision-makers. Breaking through the culture of silence and making sure that the authorities heed their voices remains a major challenge.

When the wave hit, it loosened up every existing structure. All kinds of spaces have opened up that did not exist before. The tremendous outpouring of support and solidarity in the immediate aftermath has cut across traditional ethnic and religious enmities. We are seeing the great strength of the human spirit that enables us to reach out to one another.

Many challenges face us. Key among them is the challenge of devising creative strategies that empower communities healing from the tsunami and the war to play a greater role in determining their futures. The opportunity to move forward on a path of peace, justice, and sustainable development is within our reach—almost.

Now is a pivotal time for leaders of all communities to come forward to make a new beginning through the process of forgiveness and reconciliation. It is possible. Just as the nets we women have forged during the conflict are carrying us through the wrath of the tsunami, perhaps recovering from the tsunami will help to wash in a new perspective on the potential for peace.

TAKE ACTION!

The Coalition for Assisting Tsunami-Affected Women (CATAW) and the Sri Lankan Women's Fund for Tsunami Relief with the International Coalition for Women's Health
Supporting a rights-based approach to tsunami reconstruction. Administered by a coalition of women's rights groups, the fund will ensure that relief efforts address the needs of the groups left most marginalized and isolated by the tsunami.
www.iwhc.org/programs/asia/inform.cfm

Circle Of Health International in Sri Lanka
Balancing the scales of equity in tsunami relief, Circle of Health International focuses on women's health in conflict, post-conflict, and disaster areas worldwide. A group of midwives, public health professionals, nurse practitioners, OB/GYNs, and researchers committed to access and equity through the provision of women's health services and trainings in conflict and post-conflict zones around the world.
www.circleofhealthintl.org