• Every child has a right to life and a right to a good life
  The forgotten children in an adult prison
  The forgotten children of the prisons don’t know what they are missing because most of them haven’t known better. They probably don’t miss freedom because they have not known it. But does that justify the treatment they receive from the state and its citizens?
• 86th birth anniversary of Ven. Madihe Pannaseeha Thera
• How cigarettes became popular

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by Namini Wijedasa
The heavy doors of the Welikada prison’s Female Ward slammed behind us with a bang, the iron padlock clattering against solid wood.

Another gate, this one of rust coated criss-crossed metal, blocked our entrance. We peered through the bars, catching fleeting glimpses of the ward’s inmates before turning to the prison officers and seeking entry. Female jailors in dark grey uniforms threw scrutinising glances at us, letting us pass only after confirming our identity with their lists.

Suddenly, the hustle and bustle of the world outside disappeared. We had stepped into a different world. A world of wide-eyed, curious prisoners with strangely expressionless eyes. Convicts and remandees trying to overcome the misery of imprisonment and make some sense of life.

As we walked towards the office of Head Female Jailor, Mrs. Kumari Ratnaweera, our eyes alighted on a thin boy with listless eyes. He couldn’t have been more than three years old. He lounged on the lap of his mother, a dark woman with browning hair twisted into a knot. She was dressed in the white cloth of a convicted prisoner.

The eyes of mother and son followed our progress. As we entered the office, a small fair girl in a red dress peered curiously at us from a single-roomed building facing the office. She looked about two.

So these were the little prison children. The ones whom few people knew existed and even fewer cared about.

Innocent
Children? In an adult prison? Yes, 13 was the day’s count. Five of them were below the age of one year. They were not in for any crime of theirs. But because the sentences served on their mothers had them trapped too.

Women — apprehended for drug abuse or trading, prostitution, murder, manslaughter and a multitude of other crimes — spent their days in this prison. Some were convicted prisoners; others were in jail pending the end of their never-ending trials. And those who had pleaded with the courts that they had nowhere to leave their babes while serving their punishment were allowed by the system to take them with them into confinement.

‘Allowed’ by a ‘system’ which considers little about the plight and the future of these children. To the system, they are merely the "children of prisoners"; not individuals. They may go to prison with their mothers but, once there, they cease to exist beyond a weekly rationing of powdered milk per child. There is no special allocation for the children of prisoners, the authorities told us.

At the age of five, they are taken away from their mothers and placed in government-run homes for children. The mothers are reunited with them once they finish their sentences. This could be one year, ten years or a few weeks. The ‘system’ has yet to evolve a plan to make the separation of mother and child at this stage less jarring and more of a gentle transition.

The stories of most are heart-rending. Take the case of the little girl with the huge black eyes in the red dress who peeked at us . ‘Sudu’, the prisoners called her, lovingly. She is almost four and was born in prison. Her mother, who is twenty-nine, was convicted of murdering her father after he returned home in a drunken rage. "Hariyata karadara karanawa, missie," the woman told us. "He harassed me a lot".

Pregnant
She was pregnant when she was convicted in 1993. Another child, a girl of thirteen, is today in the custody of her in-laws. She has appealed that she be placed in a convent where safety would be assured. Asked how long her sentence is, she says about five-and-a-half years. She has completed four.

Sudu has seen nothing beyond the prison walls since her birth. Day in, day out, she hears the grown-up talk of the prisoners and finds entertainment in small prison montessori where other ‘prison children’ also gather. She is bright, says her teacher. But she has never seen or frolicked like other children on green parks; travelled on a bus or eaten bombai motai. She has not blown soap bubbles or had birthday cake in real style. She has not swum in the sea. She has not seen a hill, a lake or a waterfall. She has only seen the walls of her prison.

But Sudu and her mother are lucky in one sense. When her mother completes her term in the near future, mother and daughter can leave the prison together. The shock of separation will not be for Sudu. Because by the time she reaches the age of five, her mother would be home free. "Home free"? Not quite. They don’t have a home. Where will you stay, we asked her mother. "Dhanney nehe missie, monawa hari karagannawa," she replies. "Don’t know missie, we will manage somehow".

The lives of some of these women - and their children - are so uncertain. Rani (not her real name) has no idea what the future holds for her. She is Tamil and cannot communicate in Sinhala. She has not been convicted. She is in remand. When is her case to be taken up? "No Date".

Those two words are tragic. There were women in prison who had languished within those dirty brown walls for years simply because there was "No Date". There is no telling what is in the offing for Rani - and her 15-day-old baby.

Rani is in prison on suspicion of LTTE activities. She is twenty five. She was at home in Vavuniya eight weeks ago when the police came to her home. They took her into custody along with her husband and another friend. The other two are in the Kalutara prison, she said.

Kindness
Once in remand, the heavily pregnant woman was treated kindly by the female prison officers. She visited the clinic on given dates and the baby was born in hospital. They returned to the jail soon after the birth. The beautiful baby boy was asleep in the ‘baby room’ when we visited them. He smiled through sleepy eyes when he was tickled. In a few days, he would graduate from the wornout bed he was placed in onto the cold cement floor of the wards. He would have to make room for other babies - there were four or five other pregnant women who were due to deliver.

Rani has a two-year-old daughter in Vavuniya who is being looked after by her father. She worries about the child’s future. She is also distressed that the shortage of water and the oppressive heat in the prison may tell on her baby. But what can she do?

Lakshmi (not her real name) was also arrested on suspicion. A resident of a remote village in Batticaloa, she was apprehended with an identity card which the police said was fake while on a visit to Colombo. While not convicted, she has been under imprisonment for more than one year. Her baby, a seven-month-old boy bounding with energy and always ready with a winning toothless grin, was also born in prison. He sleeps on the floor by her side at night and is rarely out of her arms. Lakshmi has two more children in Batticaloa, cared for by her blind father. She has no mother.

She probably wonders about the future. But she won’t tell. She is reticent. Is it the experiences of her recent past that has made her so suspicious? So unwilling to consider beyond today?

We could not meet all the children that day due to constraints of time. But an overall picture of their life was given by Chief Jailor, Mrs. Kumari Ratnaweera. Those children under the age of one month are allocated a packet of lactogen a month. Others are allocated two packets of powdered milk for the same period. There is no other special nutritional care from the state. All children of appropriate age attend the montessori daily. They are taught until 11.30 am after which they are fed, bathed and settled down for homework. They have a rest period in the afternoon. Often they sit by their mothers while they work (performing jobs such as textile or rope weaving as part of their prison term). When the mothers are shut in for the night, they have the children by their side. On the floor.

Visitors are allowed six days a week for remand prisoners but only once a month for convicted. Appeal prisoners are allowed to meet their visitors once a week. What applied for the mothers applies for the children. Medical attention is provided through a modest inhouse dispensary.

Routine
Apart from these glimpses, there is little to mention. Life is routine. An occasional ‘treat’ may take the form of a concert at New Year or the weekly visits of the students of the Overseas Children’s School (OCS). This school, unknown to many, is responsible for paying the salary of the Sarvodaya teacher who provides her services at the montessori. The state does not deign to pay the Rs. 1,500 that is the bulk of her remuneration. They also visit every week with ‘goodies’ and lavish love and attention on the prison kids. Kids who are thirsting for tenderness and for the food that other people eat.

Mrs. Z. Marikar, who supervises the OCS Prison Babies Project, feels deeply for the children. "They have nothing", she says. They talk like adults, she says, there was little discipline and they know nothing about cleanliness. "They eat what the parents eat even though the state gives them milk", she noted, "They never get fruits and adequate vegetables". They lack clothes, stationery, books and playthings. They have no beds, no pillows.

Most of all, few people care. There are only a scattering of people in the country who know these children exist. Even they make little or no effort to ameliorate the conditions of living. "Many people have mentioned to me they would like to visit and I tell them it is possible," said Mrs. Marikar sadly, "But they don’t come. They don’t really want to come. It is sad, really".

The forgotten children of the prisons don’t know what they are missing because most of them haven’t known better. They probably don’t miss freedom because they have not known it. But does that justify the treatment they receive from the state and its citizens?

Every child has a right to life and a right to a good life. A right to enjoy childhood and a right to hygiene, nutrition and health care. It is a pity that many people today pay lip-service to these words but turn away from the reality behind them. Behind the closed doors of the Welikada prison, little children are forgotten.

As the door of the prison shut behind us again with a dull bang, we could not help but savour the freedom in the air. But as we walked away, the thought in our mind was "Suffer little children..."

This article is part of a conbined effort by the ‘Journalists for Children’ to highlight and draw attention to the needs of children in Sri Lanka.What the officials in the government uniforms say:

Head Female Jailor, Mrs. Kumari Ratnaweera, was transferred to Welikada about a year ago. Since taking up her duties there, many confess to have seen positive changes. While her hands are tied by the non-availability of funds, she has canvassed for better living conditions for these children. She notes that the children are fortunate that all the prisoners — convicted, appeal or remand — love them and show a collective concern for them. Some mothers do not appreciate their children but others are willing to lay down all for them. She appeals for non-governmental aid for these children.

Superintendent, Weerasena Lokugalappatti, is also concerned about the children. He notes that the system does not have accommodation for the prisoners of children. There has been no reform to cater to the changing needs of the innocents. He admits there are severe shortcomings such as water and space shortage and lack of toilet facilities (there are only nine toilets for more than 300 prisoners) but he stressed these are being rectified. A new two-storey building is coming up soon and this will provide housing to 200 prisoners. Water tanks are also in the process of being constructed.

The problem is with the way the state looks at the problem. "I feel there has to be some sort of division between different types of prisoners," he said, "Division through the setting up of walls. As it stands, the children have to mix with all sorts of criminals". A plan where children can be taken out on field trips may be attractive. "And the system of separating children from their mothers at the age of five is not appealing, in my opinion," he added. He feels a sort of probation is necessary where parents can visit and maintain contact with the child even after he leaves the prison environment and starts schooling.

A child is totally bewildered when he is wrenched away from his mother at the tender age of five for no reason that makes sense to him. It could deeply scar a young mind and cause more severe emotional imbalances later.

Mr. Lokugalappatti also appealed for sensitivity on the part of police personnel who conduct arrests.

"There is certainly no special attention given to the children of prisoners, there is no awareness", he said, evidently disappointed.

by D. B. Kappagoda
The 86th birth anniversary of Ven. Madihe Pannaseeha Thera will be celebrated at Siri Vajiragnana Dharmayathanaya, Maharagama today at 4 p.m.

A ceremony has been organised by the Sasana Sevaka Society to be held under the patronage of Maha Nayake theras of the three nikayas.

A fund, "Madihe Pannaseeha Thero Post Graduate Scholarship Fund" will be launched to help both laity and clergy post graduate students.

A commemorative book titled Madihe Pannaseeha Nahimi Charithaya Ha Chinthanaya will be released on the same day.

Ven. Madihe Pannaseeha thera was born in Madihe, Matara, on June 21, 1913. His parents James Carolis Pujitha Gunawardhana and Bella Angelina Dhirasekera never dreamed that their son, Benson Wilmot, would take to robes at the age of 13.

He received his education first at St. Thomas' Girls High School, Matara, and later at St. Thomas' Boys High School, Matara.

Ven. S. Mahinda, the Tibetan monk who was then residing in a vihara close to Matara was in the habit of visiting the venerable thera's home to enjoy the sea breeze.

On one occasion he suggested to the parents that this son should enter the Buddhist order. His mother was a devout Buddhist and his father was a Christian.

Samanera
His mother was anxious to make her son a Samanera at Devagiri Vihara, Kamburugamuwa. The chief incumbent of the vihara was Ven. Weragampitiya Revata Maha Thera, the teacher of Ven. Pelene Siri Vajiragnana Maha Nayake Thera. He was over joyed when he heard the suggestion of making Benson Wilmot a samanera.

His mother remembered the forecast of the astrologer who predicted that one day her son would be famous as a Buddhist monk or as a layman.

On June 24, 1926, in the presence of relations and well wishers he entered the Buddhist order at Devagiri Vihara Kamburugamuwa.

Some months later Ven. Pelene Siri Vajiragnana Maha thera visited Devagiri Vihara and requested the chief incumbent that the samanera should be sent to Vajiraramaya, Bambalapitiya to further his Buddhist education.

At Vajiraramaya he had the chance to listen to dhamma discourses by Ven. Narada thera and Ven. Pelene Vajiragnana Maha Nayake thera.

There were also scholars who frequented the vihara of the calibre of W. A. Silva (novelist), Dr. Gunapala Malalasekera, Senarath Paranavithana (Archaeologist) and Sir Baron Jayatilleke.

Upasampada
On June 9, 1933, he received his Upasampada at Polwatuganga Seema Malaka close to Gangarama Pelene under the tutelage of Ven. Pelene Siri Vajiragnana Maha Nayake thera.

Later he followed a course of study at the Colombo University and received the title Vidya Visharada.

In 1946 he visited China to propagate Theravada Buddhism and after nine months returned home but to internal disturbances in that country.

He visited Kathmandu, Nepal in 1951 for a higher ordination ceremony of bhikkus. In 1954 he visited Nepal again to establish a Seema Malaka in Lalithpura and renamed the vihara from Young Sumangala Vihara to Sri Sumanagala Vihara.

He visited Burma on January 4, 1954 to attend a Dhamma Sangayana.

In April 1954, the All Ceylon Buddhist Congress appointed a committee to probe the conditions of the Buddhists of our country. The Venerable Thera was a member of the committee which issued a report on February 4, 1956. He also served in the Sasana Commission appointed on March 4, 1957. The members toured Buddhist countries on a fact finding mission.

It was proposed that all assisted schools be taken over by the state and also to make poya days as public holidays which were effected on December 1, 1960 and January 6, 1961 respectively.

In 1956 he visited Bangalore India during the Buddha Jayanthi celebrations to participate at a ceremony connected with the establishment of a Seema Malaka.

Sasana Sevaka samithi
His major work was Sasana Sevaka Samitiya established on July 21, 1957, helped by Ven. Ampitiye Sri Rahula thera to train monks to spread the Buddha dhamma in the world and to make the laity accustomed to the Buddhist way of life and to make Sri Lanka a Dhamma Deepa again.

On March 27, 1964 he visited US on an invitation of the Asia Foundation for an educational training programme and for the propagation of Theravada Buddhism. He also made arrangements to establish a vihara in Washington.

Later he visited the UK, West Indies, Denmark, France, Italy, Germany, Japan, Vietnam, Hong Kong and Singapore.

He organised the Buddhist information centre, Green Path, Colombo to supply information on Buddhism and the World Buddhist Directory was published for the first time by this Centre.

The most noteworthy event in his life took place on July 13, 1969 when the first United Vinaya Karma was held at Maharagama at which he was appointed as the head of the United Amarapura Nikaya.

Tharuna Saviya
When he returned from the US in 1974 he organised the Tharuna Saviya at Maharagama to train youths. This movement came to be known as Samma Ajeeva Sangamaya with the objective of combating drug addiction, alcoholism among the youth and to rehabilitate the youths after the 1971 insurrection.

The Dharma Vijaya Foundation was started in 1979 to make Sri Lanka a Dharma deepa.

According to him to make the people righteous the economy education, system and culture are some aspects that should be improved and the poor and needy assisted.

In addition the poor and needy have to be served with their needs.

He succeeded Ven. Kalukondayawe Pannasekera Maha Nayake thera as the president of the Sri Lanka Temperance Movement.

The venerable thera is well known in our country for his erudite sermons and writings on the Dhamma.

As a follower of the Buddha he stands as a beacon light to those in search of truth and guidance.

by Joe Segera
If Sir Walter Raleigh introduced cigarette smoking to England here in Sri Lanka it was a man called Kalinga Mudalige John Perera of Kotahena who made cigarette smoking popular. It happened in the colonial days when the Europeans and the English gentry smoked cigarettes specially imported for them from the front line cigarette manufacturers of Britain. And in those days the "natives" smoked Jaffna cigars and beedies.

Kalinga Mudalige John Perera popularly known as Joan Mama with his flowing white beard was a familiar figure in the streets of Colombo especially in the roads of Pettah and Kotahena. He did not wear coat and trousers, but a tweed cloth and a tweed coat. He always carried a leather bag which was full of his own homemade cigarettes. In those days there were no big cigarette companies like Ceylon Tobacco or Thomas Bear and Sons, the predecessors of Ceylon Tobacco.

The shrewd businessman that Joan Mama was he sensed a growing lucrative market for his cigarettes. He bought imported tobacco at the Pettah market and a special brand of white paper for wrapping the cigarettes.

He gave his own brand name to his cigarettes. He named them "Bird's Eye" and distributed it among small-time shopkeepers. The price of one of his cigarettes was two cents, a sum of money which had value in those expansive days of the British Empire.

Joan Mama's business was thriving so much that the big cigarette makers in England took notice of his product and decided to start operations here. When the sole agent, manufacturer and distributor of cigarettes had reached a grand old age and he had really made his money, a big cigarette manufacturing firm moved into Colombo and started the business of cigarette making in the city.

The site of the factory was at Kotahena's Blomendhal Road where today stands the offices of the Upali Newspapers. The British firm was known as Thomas Bear & Sons. They put out a cigarette with the brand name of "Elepahant" priced at three cents each. The English cigarettes with its big advertising in all newspapers and its mass production with machines, caught the market in a big way.

Old Joan Singho who was then well past the Biblical span just could not compete with his home-made, hand-made cigarettes and closed up without much ado. And so ended the first cigarette factory started by a Sri Lankan in an era when monopolies were unheard of.

Today cigarette manufacture is big business despite its worldwide condemnation as a carrier and cause of cancer. In Sri Lanka the one and only big monopoly is the cigarette monopoly. Ceylon Tobacco Company just carries on with no competitors or takers. The company is the biggest tax payer in the country along with distillers of arrack.

It is worth recalling or mentioning that all attempts by other tobacco companies to enter the cigarette manufacturing business in this country failed. In the late thirties one of Britain's leading cigarette companies, Rothmans of Pall Mall came here and opened its factory and offices, but it failed to make headway with its brand of cigarettes under the brand names of "Three Lions" and Royal Favourites". With the business climate unfavourable, Rothmans folded up. Later a couple of local entrepreneurs ventured into the cigarette manufacturing business producing cigarettes with such names as "Lavinia", but they too folded up. They just threw in the towel unable to compete with a well established giant.

Only good old Joan Aiya succeeded in making money with his "Bird's Eye" cigarettes - the product of a One-Man Show.