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The Sacred Vote

We visited a community of Northern Displaced IDPs in Puttlam recently. This was part of our Peace and Governance initiative, an effort to improve cohesion between youth and the entity we call Governance.

We had 3 discussions in course of our visit; the first was with a group of youth, the second with a young provincial council member elected to Jaffna and the last was with a few officials and community representatives from the Community Trust Fund.

Their problems are complex and community discourse has reached a fever pitch with the war ending and the possibilities of relocating to their old homes becoming a reality.

But we found yet another issue that mainly was faced by the youth; young people are facing an inability to act upon their right to vote. Most youngsters who have left the territories before the age of being eligible to vote have not received their voting registration forms yet.

So we got together with a bunch of other young people and wrote a letter to the Elections Commissioner about it. A lot of much more useful work has been done in this regard of course by organizations like CPA and CTF. We heard that the elections commissioner was due to release a circular enabling them to vote during this election, but are yet to find out what came of it.

A casual report on our discussion with the IDP youth can be viewed here.


Fixing educashun


I was not a student who academically excelled in School. Whilst scoring high in subject such as Maths and Science, I was horrible at the subjects that required one to “study” for them. And even though I find writing absolutely enjoyable now, it was not so when I was in school. My teachers made me hate the subject.

A lot of people have been arguing for comprehensive reforms in Sri Lanka’s education sector. This would have to come in the form of reforming the methodology of teaching, reforming the systems of learning, and a complete revamp of the curricula.

Looking at how state funded schools are being used, we have to realize that schools are useless things, most of the time. Let me explain.

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One of Faith, the other of Opression


Same Veil. Two very different perceptions.

Sometimes, a picture is more than just a thousand words.


Through the looking glass, I heard music, saw laughter and color pass by.. Life is a whirlwind of joyous moments. Then, I opened my eyes…

BB India presents.. Conversations

I am…

I am the hot tropical sun, that shines on the long green grass… I am his rays, white-hot, shimmering, blinding bright…. I am the moist-laden wind that makes the mango tree whisper…and her many tales brought form teh azure Indian ocean…

I am the un-ending vista of a mountain plateu, 7000ft. above sea level, I am the smallest flower in the midst of that carpet of green, & the silent rock pool nestled in the hills… I am virgin rainforest, where single beams of sunlight make golden dapples in the permanent semi-darkness of the forest floor. I am the singing, whistling, growling, croaking & infinite sounding noisy silence of these forests, and the gurgle of the silver streams, the roar of the misty waterfalls & the ebb& flow of the rivers.

I am the never-ending sea… & the brown men & women that live on its white gold shores.. I am the sould of a poor woman watching her husband sail out in to the sunset…and her smile when he returns in the morning, with his catch of silver fish..

I am the 20 million sun-tanned faces, the multitude of languages… the farmer in the golden rice field, the lonely man in the tree hut, watching over his chena of vegetables in the dry zone, his torch burning bright & his vocie raised high in song… I am the child striving to learn through hardships, the student in the hallowed halls of a University, the young & carefree dancing the night away in a modern metropolis by the sea.

I am the 3 millennia of history, rock fortresses, giant temples & kovils brave Kings, settlers, invaders, colonialists….

And so I am… the Shot-hued sunset, that 20 million pairs of eyes stop to absorb, and revel in each end-of-day… for the utter magnificence of colour & majesty….

I am also the silent night under the million stars & the pale white moon…The tiniest creature of the night to the brown mouse owl that flies in search of prey. I am the grey mist over the paddy field & swamp as morning breaks again…

I am Sri Lanka, the pearl of the Indian Ocean…

But must I be the ocean’s tear-drop? Must I be a mother whose children die of hatred, whose blood seeps into my sand from the bullet wounds by his brother?

Must I be prostituted by ruthless men who care not for my well being or that of my children?…those who will care for only themselves & theirs…not us all! Why must they lead my children?

Why can ther not be peace? Old wounds wil heal with time…. don’t rub in the salt of hatred… Rub in the ointment of friendship, strive to understand…commit to peace… I am the mother of all… you are all my progeny… and I cannot be divided… only shared!

Be committed to peace!

– Nipuni S.

In memory of a fragile peace deal torn to shreds…let’s try now to find a new solution among the youth of today for a peace we can all respect & commit to….

Nipuni is a Core Group Member of Beyond Borders and an undergraduate  student of Law.