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The Island - Saturday Magazine

Abortion: In the limelight again
By Namini Wijedasa
The Clinic
The clinic is situated in what appears to be a residential area of Nawala, its environs pleasant and peaceful. A signboard announcing its presence has been erected beside the main road. Nothing on this signboard indicates anything out of the ordinary about the clinic. The doctor's name is printed neatly on it, followed by a string of bracketed abbreviations signifying qualifications.

You can go to this clinic, alone or with a friend, and the nurses would tell you the doctor is available after 5.30 pm (although he can also see you in the mornings). You can wait on the artificial leather seats near the reception and await his arrival if you wish. Or you can come back later.

While seated on those chairs, your gaze may stray over one of several 'baby pictures' adorning the walls of the clinic. Fat, healthy babies - smiling babies. Sometimes, too, there may be rubber gloves drying in front of a whirring table fan. To all appearances, it is a maternity clinic.

The doctor may arrive, as he did that day, in a three-wheeler. He is likely to walk briskly into his consultation room after which the nurse would summon you to the reception. You would give her your name: first name would suffice, no questions asked. She would write down your name on a small scrap of ruled paper, the name of the clinic printed on it with a rubber seal. This, she would hand over to you when you pay a consultation fee of Rs.200.

Once ushered into the consultation chamber, the doctor would ask you what you came for. You could tell him the truth: you heard from a friend that he does abortions.

He would look serious and, if he has the time, ask a few questions. One of these questions may be, 'Are you married?', though it may matter little what your answer is. He may or may not examine you on the same day to verify your pregnancy. You are more likely to get a token and be advised to come during the morning of the following day for the 'womb wash'.

The abortion, according to patients, is done under anaesthesia. Little about the actual operation could be confirmed. Neither could it be observed as there was only so much a journalist working under cover had access to.

After it is performed, you pay the doctor his fee. It varies between Rs. 5,000 to Rs. 15,000 (according to patients). Then you go home and pray to your lucky stars that you don't get one of those infections that would result in weeks of bedrest and lots of expensive medicine. Or death. Of course, the fact that this was a 'reputable' clinic and with an obviously qualified doctor would minimise your chances of death or morbidity. But not everyone can afford the price.

It is that easy today to get an abortion in Sri Lanka. Whether you survive it, however, is another story. Death and morbidity are simply chances you take.

It seems so much easier, sometimes, to hide behind obsolete laws than to face up to facts.

Abortion is a case in point. Governed by a 110-year-old law that one can delightfully bury oneself in, the entire debate on the issue of abortion is smacking of hypocrisy. Legally, it is not supposed to happen. And the public is happy with that.

In July 1995, a Penal Code (Amendment) Bill was introduced before Parliament by Minister of Justice and Constitutional Affairs, G. L. Peiris. Among those amendments proposed in this bill were changes to sections of the law governing abortion. Abortion, or the medical termination of pregnancy, fell within sections 303 to 307 of the 110-year-old Penal Code. At it stood at the time, any person who voluntarily caused a woman to miscarry (abort)... committed an offence, except when it was meant to save the life of the mother.

Amendments
The amendments introduced that year by Minister Peiris under clause 3 of the Penal Code (Amendment) Bill sought to liberalise the existing law in order that abortion becomes a legal option when a child is conceived as a result of an act of rape or incest. There was also a proposal to permit abortion in circumstances where there were certain infirmities attaching to the foetus. The amendments were subject to certain safeguards and had been accepted in principle by the Cabinet of Ministers.

Interestingly, it was not the first time someone had sought to bring about changes in the laws governing abortion. In the late 1970s, a private bill by a Member of Parliament, Jeyaraj Fernandopulle, was submitted for debate.

This time, like the last, the proposals never became law. In September 1995, during the second reading of the Penal Code (Amendment) Bill, Minister Peiris confessed to having "reflected deeply on these matters". The result of his musings was a decision to move an amendment in the Committee Stage deleting the entirety of section 3, and so leaving the area of abortion out in the cold.

Minister Peiris, however, maintained he would come before Parliament at a future date with separate legislation dealing with the issue of abortion and the legality of abortion. He said he would do this by means of a Bill which will not be placed within the framework of criminal law.

Wrath of the Gods
His statement brought the wrath of the Gods upon his head via a number of well-meaning MPs (notably those in the Opposition). While some admitted that liberalising abortion laws was relevant in today's context, the majority were vociferously against it. They said legalising abortion would "open the floodgates". They booed it down on religious grounds and on a question of the sanctity of life. They said 'Sri Lankan society' would not approve of him taking abortion out of the Penal Code and decriminalising it. They resisted it on a matter of principle.

And they all but forgot about the hundreds of abortions taking place under their very noses each day while they were in Parliament valiantly and righteously defending the right to life of unborn children; all but dismissed the hundreds of women dying or suffering each day as a result of abortions in thoroughly unsafe and unsterile conditions.

Of course, someone did say that G. L. would do better bringing in legislation to prevent "quacks and other unqualified medical personnel from indulging in abortions". The good MP added ,"We should give adequate thought as to how we could curtail these illegal abortions that are taking place in the villages". Left us wondering whether abortion by qualified medical personnel in cities was 'oll korrect' albeit against the law?

In the limelight again
And now, after three years of relative 'peace and quiet', the issue of abortion promises to be the cause of lively debate once again. Health and Indigenous Minister, Nimal Siripala de Silva, has indicated that the government is looking at reforming the law in keeping with changing trends worldwide. It is wondered by some how many well-meaning, moral and self-righteous parliamentarians will boo it out of parliament this time round? Minister de Silva has promised to open any proposed amendments to public comment before taking any significant steps - many are those waiting with bated breath for an assessment of public opinion.

Abortion is a topic few people would wish to make a committed statement on. Politically, it is explosive. Even on a more personal level, individuals refrain from commenting on it - except to unequivocally condemn the whole unholy concept of it. And who can blame them? Abortion is a Sensitive Issue. But emerging truths show that, sensitive or not, it has to be addressed as a matter of urgency. The mental and physical health - as well as the lives - of hundreds of women are on line.

The high-handed moral attitude towards the issue of abortion is good for Fairyland. Faced with reality, it is a different story altogether.

Reality
What is reality? The Sectoral Report on Reproductive Health (1995) surmises that anecdotal reports indicate as many as 750 abortions may be occurring around the country on a daily basis. In Colombo, alone, about 500 abortions are said to be performed daily. Professor Indralal de Silva estimated in 1996 that the number of abortions performed annually ranged from 125,000 to 175,000. This was deduced from information gathered from abortion providers during an in-depth study published under the title: 'The silent cry: socio-cultural and political factors influencing induced abortion in Sri Lanka'.

Meanwhile, other statistics show that 12% of maternal mortalities are attributable to botched abortions and that at least 20% of the beds in the gynaecological wards of hospitals are occupied by females with a history of incomplete abortions. Unsafe abortions have led to complications such as sepsis, shock, anaemia, haemorrhage, genital and abdominal trauma and perforated uterus. These complications can lead to death if left untreated. Death could also be the result of secondary complications such as gas gangrene and acute renal failure. Long term consequences include chronic pelvic inflammatory diseases and secondary infertility.

This is reality: death and morbidity. The law hasn't prevented it. The law has actually given the masses an excuse to ignore the problem; an excuse to palm it off on police negligence to shut down abortion clinics. The law has provided them with the ideal opportunity to shut their eyes to the fact that unwanted pregnancies and abortion are part of a larger social problem. As it stands, it is a crime - to be dealt with as a crime. And, as long as it is illegal, it cannot be regularised.

Those who oppose the legalisation of abortion have made their views very clear. They are against the destruction of life. They maintain that a woman must go through pregnancy whatever the circumstances. It is God's will. "But one wonders how many of them would be singing the same tune if a daughter of their's suffered an unwanted pregnancy," noted Dr. Sriani Basnayake of the Family Planning Association.

Support
Dr. Basnayake is one of those who have been openly expressing support for the legalisation of abortion, at least with limitations. She is more than irked by the hypocrisy surrounding the subject and by the high sense of morality people pretend to possess. As a doctor who comes into contact with helpless women every day of her life, she sees it in a different perspective altogether - a perspective that an increasing segment of the population are now opening their minds to.

The truth of the matter is that abortion is not a process a woman would go through with a singing heart and sunshine in her eyes. It is primarily a very traumatic decision to make. Different women make it for different reasons but they can be categorised.

Reasons for abortion
Among these is pregnancy after marriage - despite having a number of children (so as to make the mother feel she would not be able to cope, either financially or otherwise). This is especially true in the case of the poorer classes who wish to limit family size. Prof. Indralal de Silva has tested this theory through interviews with 2,540 persons at grass-root level. He concluded that "contrary to what decision-makers think, there is a crying demand by the poor for early pregnancy termination by a safe method". Even parliamentarians know the difficulty of supporting children in these harsh economic times. They confessed to having felt the pinch while defending themselves admirably for having demanded a pay hike.

Another reason is pregnancy before marriage. With the average age at marriage of women currently 28, there is a considerable gap between the onset of puberty and marriage - a gap during which much sexual experimentation takes place. "Those who oppose sex and say it should not happen is clearly living in a dream world," said former Presidential Advisor Bradman Weerakoon, after explaining the facts. It is a vastly changed situation today from the world of 110 years ago - with more open communication, men and women have additional opportunities to associate with each other and society is more permissive. Naturally, steps must be taken to prevent unwanted pregnancies among unmarried women but it is no longer relevant to preach abstinence.

Some women terminate pregnancy when it affects their future plans - such as travelling abroad for study or professional purposes. Others do it for medical purposes or when there is a high chance of delivering an abnormal child. Yet others find themselves visiting the doctor for termination if they find themselves pregnant after being widowed or divorced. Rape and incest victims also opt for abortion while others are forced into termination by a husband or boyfriend. These reasons are listed out in the book 'Forensic Medicine and Medical Law' by lawyer and forensic medicine lecturer, Dr. Hemamal Jayawardena.

Unrealistic law
"It is time to look at reality," stressed Bradman Weerakoon. Clearly, the law does not.

Even some members of the law-implementing agencies shared this opinion - although some may feel it is more their business to keep the law than to find fault with it. DIG (Crimes), H. M. G. B. Kotakadeniya, when asked whether he does not think all abortion clinics should be shut down, replied with a flat 'no', adding "How will it help society?"

"Say the police, one fine day, conducted mass raids and wiped out abortion clinics from the country in keeping with the law, " DIG Kotakadeniya hypothesised, "What would we do with the unwanted pregnancies? What provisions are there in the law to deal with a social problem of this nature?" Exactly the point many pro-abortion parties have been trying to get across. We certainly can't dream that there won't be any unwanted pregnancies if there were no abortion clinics.

Hypocrisy
Everyone is oh-so-willing to condemn abortion and the destruction of life. But how many are willing to accept single mothers or their illegitimate children? They would much rather indulge in gossip than open their arms in welcome to the victims of rape or incest. They would look upon their children with contempt - they would not want the likes of them 'mixing' with their own kind. When it comes to the question of absorbing illegitimate children or unwanted mothers into society as its accepted members, gossip and a superiority complex combined with an overrated sense of morality wins over good intentions.

"If everyone who opposed abortion were willing to take in all the unwanted children to their homes and cherish them with the love they give their own children, one could tolerate their views," noted Dr. Basnayake.

Rape and incest
On the question of rape and incest, much of the public is now agreed that the woman should be given the choice. As Kumudini Samuel from the Women and Media Collective pointed out, abortion must be available in such circumstances. What right should anyone else have, she noted, to preach to the victims of such traumatic experiences?

The National Committee on Women, which comes under the purview of the Ministry of Women's Affairs, says that anecdotal evidence points towards an increasing incidence in rape. The committee notes that there is also ample evidence that incest is on the increase. As it is today, victims either have to bear the burden of an unwanted pregnancy or risk and unsafe abortion according to existing laws.

Results
What are the results of Sri Lanka's abortion law, formulated 110 years ago to eradicate this evil from society? An estimated 750 clandestine abortions a day, death, morbidity and inequality, all shrouded by a hypocrisy and false morality. The rich are able to afford the safe, clean clinics at a higher price while the poor are at the brunt of unsafe medical practices. As Professor de Silva pointed out, many researchers believe abortion is ultimately a matter that divides the rich from the poor. "When the rich need an abortion - whether it is illegal or not - they will have access to safe abortion," he says, "However, for the poor, the chance of having a safe abortion is still relatively less satisfactory".

How does one handle the issue? Abortion and unwanted pregnancy is a global problem. Treating it as such, the United Nations International Conference on Population and Development (ICPD), in 1994, took it up for discussion and included it in its programme of action. While continuing to reject abortion as a method of family planning, the ICPD, for the first time, acknowledged that abortion, subject to certain conditions, is a component of reproductive health care.

Major health concern
Unsafe abortion was defined as a major public health concern. The ICPD advised that recourse to abortion be reduced through expanded and improved family planning services. "Prevention of unwanted pregnancies must always be given the highest priority and all attempts should be made to eliminate the need for abortion," it said. Meanwhile, women who have unwanted pregnancies should have ready access to reliable information and compassionate counselling.

"The UN does not ask the government to legalise abortion," said United Nations Population Fund (UNFPA) resident representative, Suneeta Mukherjee. "It does not interfere in policy formulation. However, it does emphasise every individual's right to information and services". She also pointed out that abortion is a 'need' in society - the question to be posed by the government is "How do we address that need?"

Safeguards
Any steps towards legalising abortion - either fully or for specific purposes - must be accompanied by comprehensive education on contraceptives and sexuality, aimed at reducing unwanted pregnancy. But it is clear that the issue of abortion can no longer be ignored.

Abortion can never be completely wiped out - this is especially true in cases of rape, incest and congenital abnormalities. Education and contraception awareness may reduce to some extent the number of unwanted pregnancies but there will always be a market. As long as abortion is illegal, there will be any number of quacks - or even qualified practitioners - making a lucrative business out of it. Without anything to regularise their practices, they will continue to have a field day at the expense of desperate women. Legalising it, the experts feel, will only make it more scientific and enable strict controls.

Not a method of birth control
But it is equally important to stress that abortion should not be available on an over-the-counter basis to anyone who seeks an easy end to pregnancy. The sanctity of life must be given importance - for life is precious. Any laws have to be accompanied by adequate safeguards so that abortion is not used as a method of birth control.

Studies have found that abortion is now used as a method of birth control in Sri Lanka. It is felt this is probably due to a lack of awareness about contraception or about sexuality. Dr. de Silva's study showed that Sri Lanka has attained replacement fertility without achieving the corresponding contraceptive prevalence level and also without achieving the corresponding increase in modern methods of contraception. He deduced that the answer lied with the level of induced abortion practice in Sri Lanka as a birth preventive method.

Meanwhile, women must go through counselling before an abortion - and after. At the same time, a change must take place in society in order that single pregnant women are no longer stigmatised. Only then will they feel comfortable with carrying through a pregnancy on their own.

An issue as complex as abortion can hardly be fully discussed in one article - all the loose ends tied up neatly and all the aspects to the problem hammered out. But it is important to highlight the dangers and turn the spotlight on the importance of remedial action. It is difficult to say how many will agree but many will disagree. At the same time, hiding behind obsolete laws does no society any good. And addressing only the moral side of it while seated in the lap of luxury is no good at all.


Conman 'Baba' goes missing with £150 million
By Ian Ball in Miami

The authorities in Florida are searching for an African conman who allegedly used magic to relieve a Middle East bank of more than £150 million and then lavished much of the money on high living and good causes in Miami.

"Baba", real name Foutanga Dit Babani Sissoko, 53, a handsome, tall and personable Gambian, is being sued in Florida by the Dubai Islamic Bank for the return of his American assets, including cars, condominiums and jewellery.

But the case is being heard in his absence. Baba, as he is affectionately known in the city where he built a reputation as a generous philanthropist, has disappeared.

With his dazzling smile, handtailored suits and open wallet, Baba proved a big hit during his two years in Miami. Nobody knew how he had amassed his fortune - he had a US criminal record, but not involving any bank. Before he became Miami's most colourful philanthropist he served a sentence in a federal prison for paying a $30,000 bribe to a customs agent to clear the shipment of two military helicopters to West Africa.

The acquisition of the £151 million from the Islamic Bank must rank as one of the most audacious in the history of confidence trickery. Baba offered no collateral and signed no loan agreements or documents, not even an informal IOU: he simply persuaded staff to give him the money. The manager of the bank and its chief accountant claim he used black magic - they are both now in jail awaiting trial.

The bank sued Baba in the US federal court in June for the return of some of the money, but the court papers relating to the case have only just been made public, Baba is already long gone: he was last seen in Miami at the end of last year.

The investigators trying to find Baba and the missing millions are concentrating their search on West Africa. What they have uncovered so far is an extraordinary - and worrying - tale of corporate gullibility.

But the chief victim of Baba's smooth talking is Mohammed Ayyoub, the former manager of the Dubai Islamic Bank's main branch who told investigators that he had fallen under the spell of the smooth-talking African.

The recently released court papers reveal that between August 1995 and January this year, Ayyoub authorised 183 separate telex transfers to accounts controlled by Baba in New York, Miami, Geneva and the Isle of Man.

In addition, he claims £50 million left the Dubai bank in cash, carried away by Baba or his agents in plastic bags bearing the logo of a local supermarket. The charge against Ayyoub alleges that he hid these transactions by falsifying bank ledgers.

Ayyoub said Baba had presented himself to the bank as a Gambian businessman who needed loans to finance "promising business ventures" in his homeland. He variously claimed to have made his fortune from oil, diamonds, tiber and textiles.

Ayyoub told investigators that Baba invited him to dinner in the luxury villa he was renting in Dubai. After the banquet, Baba showed him a room that he said was filled with boxes of cash and gold bullion. But there were so many flashing lights in the room it was hard to see what it held.

Ayyoub also confessed to his superiors that he had permitted Baba to hang a black crystal ball from the ceiling of his bedroom, telling him he could watch the banker through the ball and know everything he was doing.

Despite the revelations about his activities, Miami has retained an affection for Baba, not least because of his largesse. Last summer, the papers were full of pictures of Baba with the Miami Central High School marching band in their white busbies. He had given them £184,000 to travel to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade in New York and buy new uniforms and instruments.

Also before Christmas, he wrote out a cheque for £736,000 for a homeless centre.

Almost every day brought new tales of Baba's generosity. When homeless men were interrogated as they tried to change 100-dollar notes, they said their money had been given to them by a welldressed African.

Baba was the darling of Miami's estate agents. He bought five condominiums for £1.85 million in a luxury block on the city's waterfront and rented 10 other flats for his entourage in another high-rise building.

Baba's bank accounts and assets in America have been frozen. But only about £1.8 million of the missing money has been recovered; many of the accounts had been emptied before investigators got to them.

"This is a world-class conman," said William Richey, a Miami lawyer and former state prosecutor working for the Islamic Bank. "He essentially conned most of South Florida."


Book Review
Memories sweet and sour, in, Sinhala Burgher style
Sinhala-Burgher by Malcolm Abayekoon Spindrift Print and Publishing UK-100 pp.
By Carl Muller

My friend Malcom Abayekoon of Cambridgeshire has finally got his reminscences in print. I did mention some time ago about this book. ''Sinhala-Burgher'', which Malcolm was threatening to write. It took time, be cause, as Malcolm found out, British publishing houses were not all that nice as he believed them to be. He even sent me (accompanied by appropriate snorts of indignation) copies of letters he had received. One well-known publisher in London wrote.

We would like to outline how our publishing plan works. It is an arrangement between author and publisher whereby the author pays for the publication of the book. Once the auothor has made this payment nothing further is required.''

Then comes a little persuasive twist: ''Many of the great names of writing began their careers by contributing to the cost of publishing their early work, including Mark Twain, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Lord Byron, Beatrix Potter, Edger Allen Poe, A. A. Milne, Bernard Shaw, Marcel Proust and Jane Austen.''

Then the reasoned-out bit: ''Economic considerations mean that the large multinational groups who dominate publishing worldwide seldom take on new authors.''

Then a 'convincer': ''Our system of publishing is very often the only way new authors can realistically expect to achieve publication and distribution of their work.''

There's a built-in loophole too: ''We should point out that book publication is a competitive business with no guarantees or financial gain, and it is unlikely that authors will recover their outlay in total.''

But the vanity-nudge persists: ''For many new authors financial considerations may be secondary, and quite possibly personal satisfaction represents a greater element in the wish for publications.''

Then the final nail: ''May we remind you of an observation by George Bernard Shaw: ''If you do not write for publication, there is little point in writing at all. ''And they did not even spell my name right,'' Malcolm moaned, ''Dear Mr Abayekoon, they wrote!''

Another publisher said much the same thing, going to great lengths to explain: ''As an author, you are faced with a sad truth; you will probably have to publish it yourself with all the inherent problems that course of action brings, or you must find a publisher you can trust...'' and the punch line, ''We work on a basis whereby the cost of publishing the book is borne by the author...an author's payment to publisher would be at least 3500 pounds sterling with an average and realistic figure probably being in the region of 7000 sterling.''

So Malcoom decided to go desktop and save himself an ulcer, and which is why I have before me his ''Sinhala'Burgher'', dedicated to the author's family in Sri Lanka. Australia, England and wherever else they may be all of eleven chapters of memories sweet and sour, spiced a la Sri Lanka and truly a pickle barrel-ful of recollections which Malcolm calls the ''flashbulb effect''.

Oh, of course he's Sinhala Burgher. His father was Wilfred Felix Abayekoon, his mother Eunice Myrtle Foenander. The Sinhala component is very strong indeed for, as he tells us in his introduction, his great grandfather, Weeragama Aluthwalauwe Banda Abayekoon married the daughter of Madueawe Pilimatalawa Wijesundera Herath Abayekoon Podi Attanayake Mudiyanselage Loku Banda.

''With a name like that, ''Malcolm says, ''he had to be someone, and it seems he was the Basnayake Nilame of the Maha Vishnu Devale, Hanguranketa.'' One of his forebears was Pilimatalawa Disawe, First Adigar to the last king of Kandy

''My horoscope was cast on an old ol'a leaf.'' Malcolm writes. ''That I was half Swedish-Dutch Burgher with a little bit of Italian thrown in did not matter. My Kandy Sinhalese grandfather had insisted on that.''

So much for the introduction. The book is charming, quite irascible and there is all the romping mischief of youth, growing up, escapades and ambuscades and an oversize inkwell of memory with that true flashbulb quality that jumps like popping quicksilver from place to place, Character to character, a seemingly light hearted but, as I suspect, quite serious chronicle of a life well spent, patchily misspent, full of the derring-do of the younger years as well as the swings and roundabouts of adulthood.

It is appropriate enough that Malcolm begins his memory chain in Wellawatte (where we were both boys together) and I was quite chuffed to read in Chapter Four that he had remembered me. More so, what with all the havoc around the Monna boy of my own books, we have Malcolm saying:

''I have vivid memories of Car's father Sonna, the tough railway engine driver. It was a beastly hot afternoon, a Hindu festival day. Mother and I were seated in the verandah when we heard the sound of approaching drums and reedy wind instruments. The lavatory coolies were going around with their sakkili band begging for money as they always did on such days, irrespective of which religion was celebrating. These low caste South Indians main occupation when not getting hooched was to repair shoes or clean our toilets. They came around with what were called six-bucket carts into which human waste from houses without flush toilets was tipped. Pong was quite naueating to say the least. Their women were semi topless, some had what it takes to make the centre spread of a girlie magazine. The shoe mending was done seated in the garden. The man came armed with a last, basic tools, waxed thread some leather and a rusty old can into which we put water so that he could soften the leather before it was cut to shape. They charged a pittance for their work. That afternoon Mr. Muller must have been having his siesta after a heavy lunch and a few drams. When the band reached his gate and opened up their cacophony we heard him tell them to bugger off. His order was ignored, a most dangerous thing to have done. The next thing we saw was old Muller leaping over the parapet spitting tin tacks and then letting the musicians have a dose of the old one two. Instruments went flying, the men began to yell in pain, Mrs Muller kept screaming, 'don't hammer them. Sin, no?'' Pony, who lived next door to the Muller poked his bald head over the wall to investigate. He may have regretted having done so if Sonna had spotted him. Pony was a teacher who got that name due to his nasty habit of kicking pupils. Had he done such a thing in a country like Sweden he would have been locked up.''

Life in Wellawatte is a riot of characters, misfits, ghosts, big eyed servant women, rickshaw men, ratcatchers, perambulating bookmen (mostly Sexton Blakes), a dhoby Twister, stilt-walking transvestites and beggars with honey daubed bandages. And oh yes, the godamba roti man too. It would be interesting to repeat what Malcolm has to say about beggars:

''Beggars arrived at all times everyday. They were not all Ceylonese. During the war, European women dressed from head to foot in black came begging accompanied by scruffy children. They were apparently from Armenia. How they came to be in Ceylon and end up as beggars was something of a mystery. A white man who claimed to be a German Jew pleaded for help and told of what Hitler and his thugs had done to his people. At that time we were totally unaware of what was happening to Jews in Germany and occupied Europe. Those were the first European paupers that I saw. Later on. I was to see hundreds of them even in the country that had ruled over mine and so many other countries. Not all who came to beg were born losers; some had seen better times. There was a Mr. Tranchel who always wore a clean suit and spoke fluent English. French and Italian nuns came once a month asking for alms for a home for the aged...''

He also recalls with somewhat of a shrug the stripper in ''Manning Place by the pork stall of all places''' a toothless old hag, quite mad, who would raise her filthy saree for the few cents local louts would offer her.

It is of much regret that Malcolm did not think of turning this entire flood of memory into a strong, earthy novel, bringing each of his colourful characters lie...but then, I think he would have wished to spare the sesame characters or their children embarrassment. What we have here, most adroitly written and with a fine mix of the here and now and the then and there, is a case of spot-on recall. Naturally, he has to have his painful jobs to the ribs two. Spilling out of his schoolboy holiday memories in Tonacombe estate, Namunakula, he has to remind about the way the British ramorodded the plantations.

''The British Raj transported indentured Indian labour to all their colonies in that part of the world, to distant places like Fiji, Guyana and Trinidad as well as to east Africa. There was a purpose in this; it was part of their divide and rule plan. The system worked well for them whilst they ruled these countries, but not so well for those who took over from them and, in some instances, not at all well for the Indians. People of Indian descent in some of the colonies were given British passports but they were not worth the paper they were printed on. When Idi Amin went super-nationalist and kicked out the Asians from his country several of them discovered that their travel documents did not entitle them to live in the country of which they were citizens. I remember reading at the time that no other country on earth issued passports and then refused entry'.''

And the brown sahib a get a ribbing too:

''Many years later I entered one of those (Planters') clubs. Not a single European was to be seen but there were many photographs of them hanging on the wall, some showing them surrounded by their hounds and very dead jackals. In their place there were local planters knocking down chota pegs and trying to be more British than the British; they were living in a world of fantasy. The England they imagined had long ceased to exist, if it ever did exist. Should they come to Blighty they would soon discover that their clipped English accents, blue blazers and suede brogues would not protect them from being called bloody Pakis. I did in fact meet one of them who was on furlough in London. His world had collapsed , he was eager to get back home. He even complained about the tarts being prejudiced!''

He recalls with relish the story of a native in his car who refused to give way to a British planter. The pukka sahib yelled out. ''You are in the middle of my bloody toad,'' to which the native replied, ''And you in the middle of my blody country!''

The essentially Burgher flavour comes upon as with his Burgher grandma's many Dutch dishes. This is not a book you can skin because the reader will find that it drips with a rare sent of nectar. We are told of his uncles. Bertie and Dunstan and suddenly the flashbulb pops. Yes, Dunstan served in the Ceylon Engineers. Yes, Dunstan was stationed in Trincomalee. And yes, Dunstan was discharged...because Dunstan was Dunstan. Whence comth such another? A human skeleton is found when digging trenches at Trinco. Dunstan tells the sergeant that the bones are that of an Irishman. How could he know? ''There is a potato stuck up its rear,'' Dunstan says. He's the same uncle Dunny who, tanked to the gills, shelters under a tall tree outside the Kanatte cementery and swears later that he saw several pigs fly over the cemetery gates!

Malcolm's memories of Colombo bring us face to face with Sooty Banda ''who gave us Oo la la Jutehesian Jimmy Van Getri dofthepest and Gerd Secondhandgerman.'' There's the Lion House crowd of fag-bummers and Luke, who carried a part of a human skull in his knapsack because one never knew, there could be some use for it. There was also Paiva's Corner House sign of a thin man going in and a fat man coming out; the Majestic theatre, Green Cabin, Pasgorasa and the Cosmopolitan which, ''For some unknown reason, had an illuminated revolving barber's shop pole mounted on the wall behind where the cashier sat. That man was as bald as a coot!''

It is hard to give you a really first-hand peek into the bubbling cauldron of memory this book is; and that, after all, is not the purpose of a review...For many of the now generation it should hold but some interest except,I suppose, the jucier bits of life in the forties and fifties when the years did a sort of hula hoop movement, quite whacky, serious in patches, and the funny side always there to split the stoutest ribs. What one finds is the difference! And this can be quite anguished. What has happened to the Ceylon of yesteryear? What has happened to those airy, free-wheeling days when Malcolm, as a scout, camped in the jungles of Pedro, hiked at Moon Plains...when boys could catch guppies in the canal, canoe to the Wellawatte reef...when barbers plumped for French chalk when they ran out of talcum powder. What happened to Gala Yata Billa, the old codger who lived under a rock on the beach and sold colourful little sea fish to children.

Tell me if you can, because we have seen change so drastic, so unnerving, that nothing could be worse and nobody has the time, patience or application to consider again those glorious, simple, uncluttered years. Many of our writers have gone back, treading memory lane each in his or her own way. Maureen Seneviratne has written much about such days, so has Jean Arasanayagam. There is Grace Mackie with her 'Of Jasmines and Jumboos', a book I enjoyed. There is Shyam Selvadurai and Michael Ondatjie, Goolbhai Gunasekera, Kirthie Abayesekera. What is special about 'Sinhala ' Burgher' is that Malcolm has not skipped. This is why, perhaps, his most compelling chapter deals with his return to Sri Lanka.

'For me, it was a period of rediscovery...Progress was inevitable but some of what I saw the country could have done without. Mass tourism had given some of the locals an inferiority complex. A Colombo taxi driver told me that his previous fare was a German bus driver, he could not understand how a person in that sort of employment could afford to take a vacation so far from his homeland, when he was struggling to exist.

'Traditional hospitality by all means, but not if that means a nation selling its soul for a fistful of hard currency. Wise guys in the tourist business I found in plenty. One of them said that his dream was to convert Colombo into another Hong Kong ' perish the thought. At that time I noticed that locals were given second class treatment where tourists gathered. One of the men who owned a watering hole popular with tourists and who was not at all keen on having locals, was himself active in combating racism when he lived in England. When I mentioned this to him he sheepishly said that locals did not know how to behave. I thought they were far more well behaved than the rowdy beer-swigging foreigners.

'Most of the friends who I hoped to see were missing. Some were pushing up the weeds at Kanatte and other cemeteries...Among those I tracked down was Douglas Robert and his pal Eggerton Tucker, the handsome, tough ex-railway engine driver. Douggie still showed his muscles, Eggie could still sing cowboy songs. He took me to Mount Mary. The old railway dwellings and famous running shed were there, most of the Burgher railroad folk were not...the magic that was the Ceylon Government Railway had gone...

'In the Pettah...I walked from one end of Main Street to the other and took a peep at some of the narrow streets that ran off it...The pavements had been taken over by hawkers who turned nasty if someone accidentally trod on their wares. The once well-kept Municipal market was in a state of decay with rotten vegetables lying outside and mangy cats prowling about the fish stalls.'

What a way to switch off. Perhaps it's the best way, when all that lies at the end of memory's road is the present disillusionment, the tinsel, the greed, the drugs, the terrorism, the wheelers and dealers, the corruption, the sleaziness of a country in the grip of a force it cannot really understand. Call it modernity and damn it roundly. Then read of the sunlit days of old, the happy spacious days, days of freedom, of fairplay, of family and friends, of people bold and people gold, of Sinhala-Burgher and no one to point a bigoted finger. This is why Malcolm's book positively sings, and he sings too as a man of this country, a man who still has his fantasies and who has given us in his recollections, more to dream of ' a fantasia, actually of those sweet, sincere days of yore.

(I believe that Sharm de Alwis of 82/1, Kandy Road, Kiribathgoda, can get readers copies of 'Sinhala Burgher'. Please contact him.)


Why the dog really is man's best friend

Dogs may be dismissed as "dumb animals" by some, but they apparently helped Homo sapiens survive while Neanderthals, who formed no relationship with them, died out.

According to a radical theory to be announced this week, the companionship of wolves, the dog's ancestor, relieved Homo sapiens of the need for an exquisite sense of smell. That, in turn, allowed our predecessors to evolve facial features capable of a much more sophisticated ability: speech.

But Neanderthals, a rival race of early humans, retained facial features which made speech far more difficult ' and words are how we survive and organise ourselves.

The claim follows growing evidence from DNA genetic fingerprinting that the domestic dog has been associated with human beings for far longer than scientists previously imagined and that three-quarters of modern dog species could be traced to a single she-wolf which lived more than 100,000 years ago.

By pushing back the origins of the domesticated dog so far, the DNA evidence has prompted a wave of new thinking about how humans and dogs co-evolved.

Dr. David Paxton, an Australian veterinary scientist based in New Guinea, claims that far from being a "master-slave" relationship, the two formed a symbiosis that benefited both hugely.

According to Dr. Paxton, the 100,000-year-old relationship started when wild wolves discovered that human settlements were a ready source of food.

"Domestic dogs evolved because human beings created home bases", said Dr. Paxton. "In evolutionary terms, it would have been a much better niche than being out there with all the other predators chasing game that is fast and difficult to kill".

Although wolves may have adopted humans ' rather than the other way round ' Dr. Paxton claims that human beings soon benefited from having wolves to help with hunting and to act as guards.

Dr. Paxton believes that by giving us speech and so many other advantages, our early relationship with wolves may solve the mystery of why we survived, but Neanderthals did not.

Dr. Paxton's theory, which will be publicly unveiled on Channel 4 on Tuesday, is already causing a stir in scientific circles. "At one seminar I gave, one professor actually thought it was a hoax", said Dr. Paxton.

He has found support for his claims from other experts, but his suggestion that we must thank dogs for giving us speech has yet to convince many other scientists. Professor Clive Gamble, an expert on human evolution at Southampton University, said: "The idea that there were links between the evolution of the human and dogs is plausible, and it is true that Neanderthals don't seem to have had close relationships with dogs, but the consensus now is that they did develop speech".

Even so, Dr. Paxton believes that his theory will give many dog-owners a new appreciation of their pet: "People don't realise that they have an interdependence with the dog ' it's much deeper than an ownership relationship".


Banks and Banking
By Joe Segera

Sri Lankans have gone a long way since the colonial days when they had to do their banking with the Chettiars of Sea Street. Those were the days when foreign banks, mainly the British banks and the others which called themselves Indian, but were controlled and managed by Britishers practised a form of Apartheid against Sri Lankan businessmen and wealthy Sri Lankans who owned expansive tea, rubber and coconut plantations. They were in short, denied banking facilities. These banks, in the main, provided facilities only to the wealthy Whites who ran the Agency Houses, the planters and the big company bosses. As for the Sri Lankans the normal treatment meted out by the snobbish managers and agents was to show them the door.

But there was an exception, the foreign banks provided huge loans and overdrafts to the Indian Chettiars of Sea Street who were recommended by Chief Cashiers or Shroffs who were mainly Tamils. The monies so released were lent to Sri Lankans by the Chettiars at interest rates much higher than the foreign banks. And the Shroffs collected their commission from bank managements and the Chettiars.

That was the background against which a much loved member of the State Council and a Minister, George E. de Silva moved a motion for the establishment of a bank which would serve the needs of Sri Lankans mainly businessmen suffering under a colonial banking system and the weight of the Shylocks of Sea Street. The motion was debated in the state council and passed. And the direct result of the motion was the appointment of the Banking Commission in the year, 1934. The Commission which was appointed by the Governor was chaired by a leading Indian Banker. Its secretary was a Sri Lankan, Mr. N. U. Jayawardena, the doyen of Sri Lankan banking who to this day is the country's leading authority on banking, finance and economics.

It was this commission which recommended the establishment of the Bank of Ceylon. The bank was opened in the year, 1939 by the then Minister of Labour Industry and Commerce, Sir Claude Corea. It was housed in a section of the Chamber of Commerce Building in Bristol Street. And today the Bank of Ceylon functions there as its Bristol Street Branch. The Bank of Ceylon's first General Manager was not a Sri Lankan, but a Britisher, J. J. Mortlock.

Now entering its sixtieth year, our pioneer Sri Lankan Bank which is the largest today has an interesting history behind it. The bank's first Sri Lankan General Manager was Mr. C. Loganathan during whose period the Bank of Ceylon really made its presence felt superceding all foreign banks in the realm of its business and financial clout. In those days it was staged that all Sri Lankans who did business with the Bank of Ceylon were not very happy during the Loganathan era. Many old-timers of that period relate stories which border on a communal stance taken in regard to Sinhala people who sought assistance or accommodation from the Bank. Many Sinhala businessmen felt they were being discriminated against.

One of this country's finest newspaper Editors, the late Denzil Peiris of the "Observer" gave candid expression to the situation prevailing in that era in an article in the "Sunday Observer" under the very prominent headline in the paper's OP-ED or Editorial Page, "The Chettiar Of York Street." The reference was to then General Manager of the Bank of Ceylon, Mr. C. Loganathan. There are also stories about some of our frontline politicians carrying bundles of documents, including property deeds waiting patiently outside Mr. Loganathan's office while the clock outside continued to tick. Those were happenings when the country was on the brink of a General Election and finances were badly needed for the oncoming battles and while on the subject that is banks and banking there is also a fascinating side to this business. In the colonial days the most sought after officer in a bank was its shroff or the chief cashier. He is the man who conducts the most important business in the bank, loans and overdrafts. It is the all-powerful shroff who has to recommend them. This was most rewarding and lucrative job which made the shroff the wealthiest officer in the bank. The bigger the loan he guarantees, the bigger the Commission. One of the most influential and colourful personalities who functioned as a Shroff in a leading British bank was a banker from the bustling Colombo North suburb of Kotahena. He was so much part of this bank that he had the clout and the influence to do things that even the management could not do. This powerful officer was not a Britisher or an Indian, but a member of the Colombo Chetty community whose members are prominent in Colombo North Peliyagoda and Hendala. This Shroff, a God-fearing Roman Catholic stretched his hand out to help all members of his community to the extent that young men from the Colombo Chetty community were given first preference in the matter of jobs. As time went on there were so many Colombo Chetties in this British Bank that people called it the "Colombo Chetty bank".

Then on the other side of the road in the Fort there was another big British Bank with its roots in Hongkong which had as its Shroff a man who was surprisingly not one with a rupees-and-cents background, but a medical and legal background. This Shroff was a London qualified Medical Doctor and a Barrister-at-law. An immensely wealthy man he had a son-in-law who was a senior Civil Servant doing the top job at the Treasury. His son was a senior staffer at the World Bank.

The story would not complete without mention of yet another Bank Shroff who used to own almost three quarters of Cinnamon Gardens and was also a Municipal Councillor.


Birth in an artificial womb may be possible in 25 years
by Victoria Macdonald
Health Correspondent

Infertile couples - or those who are too busy for conventional parenthood - will be able to grow babies in an artificial womb within the next 25 years, a leading fertility expert predicts.

Their sperm and egg will be fertilised in a test-tube and the resulting emryo implanted in an artificial womb for the nine months until birth.

The Brave New World scenario would mean women no longer needed to carry a baby from conception to birth.

But while it would help couples who are having difficulty conceiving, it has enormous ethical implications.

Dr. Robert Forman, medical director of the Centre for Reproductive Medicine in Harley Street, London said that if research was concentrated in this direction, ectogenesis - in which a baby is conceived and developed outside the womb - would be available within 25 years.

Research is already underway. A team of Japanese and British scientists has developed an artificial womb for embryonic goats. The scientists predict that the technology would be available for humans in 10 years but it is likely it would be for babies born prematurely rather than for the entire gestation.

Kim Cotton, Britain's first surrogate mother, said: "For those women born without a womb ectogenesis is the answer."

In mysteries with Carol Vorderman, to be screened this Wednesday on BBCI at 8. p.m. actors play the part of a couple desperate to have a baby but who have been unable to conceive for five years.'

The programme raises the possibility of the couple visiting the artificial womb, sitting close to it, and talking to the developing baby inside. The would-be parents are encouraged to talk into a tape machine, which can be played to the baby when they are not there, along with its mother's and father's favourite music.

While the baby is being "born" the couple wait in a hospital room, appearing to suffer the same anxieties of any prospective parents, but without the pain of childbirth.

A healthy 81b boy is delivered into the exultant mother's arms.

Critics of such a development, however, warn that a mother might have problems bonding with her baby.

Yehudi Gordon, a consultant gynaecologist and obstetrician at St. John and St. Elizabeth Hospital in north London, said that he was extremely concerned about the development of an artificial womb. "The baby might have great difficulty bonding with the mother and this would then extend and spread to the baby's ability to bond with everybody else."

But Mrs. Cotton dismisses this. "There is no worry about bonding. When a parent adopts a child, as soon as it is placed with the mother all the maternal insticts come in."
It is likely that the use of an artificial womb would be in three stages. A preferred egg and sperm would be selected under a microscope for fertilisation to take place.

Five days later embyro would be implanted into the artificial womb, which would be the most difficult part. As in the human process, this is the time when the embyro is most at risk of miscarrying.

It would take three days before it was known whether the embyro had attached itself to the artificial uterine wall. Throughout gestation it would receive oxygen and nurtrition through pipes feeding into the plastic womb.


A nostalgic reflection
by R. A. Goonewardene

Nearly a quarter century has gone by since I retired as a skilled worker in a government department, unrivalled for its efficiency, and an exemplar among departments at that time. Let me call it Department X, going back to my elementary school days where an unknown whose value had to be determined was denoted by the letter X. Known as a 'closed' department in the sense that having joined it after leaving school or university, one remained there till retirement or death which ever came earlier. Deaths in service were rare, as rare as day of uninterrupted power supply in Nugegoda. Its members were notoriousÉ for their longevity.

With a long history dating back to 1800, and well entrenched healthy traditions, it was the oldest prestigious government department. Pictures of its former heads, some in plumed helmets and ceremonial white tunics, others in less militarized kit right up to the lounge suit of more recent times hang on the walls of the conference room. I would rather say 'adorn' but pointless debate has to be avoided. From their lofty perch they seem to guard and guide the department. Many of us who had an abiding interest in the department and its traditions were happy and proud to show visitors around the office and end up in the conference room. A few nuts who had infiltrated the department, fancying themselves messiahs of the post-colonial era and who would scoff at anything beyond their reach or understanding, considered them disposable relics, and have even shown their pettiness and vulgarity by recklessly damaging them. Far from surprising, for have not vandals ruined even the priceless Sigiriya frescoes? And are not patriots in local bodies replacing street names, easy to remember and locate, with jaw-breaking names and titles of distinguished dead men who would have disdained such immortalization in their life time.

For us, these pictures symbolized the saga of a department ' individuals did not matter ' but for whose pioneering members that laboured under hostile conditions in virgin country, roads would not have been traced, railways never laid, tanks never restored, development never possible except on paper.

This reflection, that contemporaries would share, refers to the post independence era, that is, post 1948.

The last of the British administrators were set to leave, and sons of the soil were on their marks ready to take over. Rigorously trained, they had mastered, step by step, the functioning of a huge department with a multiplicity of disciplines, not so visible to the untrained eye. The workforce exceeded 10,000. They set about their task with utmost zeal, efficiency and confidence ' a lasting credit to them and an inspiration to the future ' maintaining norms of work in every discipline with its ambit, transparently fair in appointments and promotions, brooking no political interference but meticulously implementing the policies of government, ensuring discipline at all levels, establishing healthy relations with trade unions but not allowing the tail to wag the dog (In the 1970s there were 21 trade unions in this department). There were, as always the oddballs, the upstarts, the chameleons, in a few unions ready to change colour with the party in power, and ceaselessly striving to obstruct, accuse and besmirch the the high reputation of the department ' explicable only as a sadistic delight of warped minds.

The tragedy of the public service is not these destructive elements for they sparsely populated the departments as mere noisy bullies and cowards who had the ear of lower grade politicians, devoid of principles and understanding, ever ready to accommodate those of like quality over the heads of departments. The real tragedy has been analysed exhaustively at seminars, in public lectures, newspaper articles and innumerable letters to the editors by concerned citizens ' politicisation of the public service. It is now in ruins like our ancient civilisation, irremediably damaged, beyond the competence of any administrative archaeologist to restore it to its pristine glory.

A few incidents buried deep in the recesses of memory obtrude sometimes: Two labourers' trade unions had wanted an interview with the minister. They would settle for nothing less to discuss as they said 'outstanding issues'. The deputy minister was nominated, and a conference was arranged at the ministry to which the head of the department was also summoned, as were a few bureaucrats of the ministry.

The conference opened with a grinning Deputy Minister calling for tea all round from the canteen. The unions pounced on this opening to deplore that in their department the canteen was closed during office hours causing much hardship to the staff. The hardship was imaginary. The Deputy Minister in a jolly mood, drawing deep on his cigarette, emitting weird noises from his catarrhal nasal region, about to project a blob of mucus, and without even seeking an opinion from the Head who was there, blurted out, 'Fancy that! now if our canteen had been closed we would all have been without tea'. Brilliant and unanswerable. There were titters of approval from the unions' bosses, almost mild applause for our man. The Head who was no worm responded immediately and appropriately. 'If you go to your canteen, and now is not tea time, you can see the numbers in there when they should be at their desks. Then you can go to the office and see for yourself the piles of files on their tables awaiting action. In our department at tea time, tea is served at their desks'.

The Deputy Minister whose knowledge of administration, management of staff, importance of discipline and norms of work, was limited to running a bicycle repair shop before entering parliament, and who had learned nothing since, was unmoved by the Head's remarks and most rairily ordered that the canteen should remain open all the time. I am not sure that the Head took any notice of that order. Knowing him, it is doubtful that he did.

Over the decades there have been others of the calibre of this minister: dropouts from schools, workshops, those with similar or worse backgrounds, and close friends of the underworld, wending their way to parliament and then to ministries. It follows as night the day that their contribution to public life and to society in general has been nil, that is when they have not intensely damaged the national ethos as typified by rowdy behaviour, senseless inane utterances, and brash ill-conceived interference even with the rule of law. It is equally well known that there has been fierce competition to equality in commission, and kickbacks, claiming it as a fundamental right.

To get back to the conference at which we were: The next demand of the unions was that their presidents and secretaries should be made JPs of Colombo District. These two potentates were craving to add another feather to their caps alone. Even before the Deputy Minister opened his mouth to spill more gems of wisdom, the departmental head, the chief worker in the department, made a pre-emptive strike. With his raspish sense of humour, he proposed that ALL office bearers of unions (numbering about 15 in each) should be appointed 'All Island JPs'. I do not know that what happened to the proposal and counter proposal. But the unions' Kathakarayas had been left speechless, and had forgotten the rest of the agenda.

Let me leave the conference at this stage.

Not all ministers were asinine or low grade. There were several men and women of sterling qualities: educated, reasonable, humane, efficient and above reproach. One of the them, rich in his own right, gave away all his houses in Colombo 7 to his long-time tenants for a mere song even before the law came on ceiling of houses into force. Some tenants of the same quality did not accept the offer at such a low figure, but its owner could not be persuaded to accept more. So they left.

I can remember vividly a conversation I had with a Commissioner of Motor Traffic at that time. He narrated the incident to me himself. Therein lies its credibility. In his anxiety to curry favour with his minister or merely following the accepted form, he went to Mr. Leslie Goonewardene with a list of selectees, as motor car examiners. The minister with his well known politeness had requested him to point out the rule that required the minister's approval. There was none and the CMT had sheepishly withdrawn the list. Then the minister had very benignly told the errant CMT, 'Go and sin no more'.

Decline and fall of the Public Service
A public service with an excellent enviable record at the time of independence in 1948 gradually and steadily declined, and during the past 25 years or so made a precipitous descent. Inefficiency and apathy at all
levels became its hallmarks; particularly incompetent and stooging at the higher levels. So much so that there is a daily spate of complaints aired in the newspapers, at bus stands, railway stations, at the market place and wherever people gather, not least in their homes. There are no more public servants paid by their masters, the people. The former 'public servants' are today's masters who treat the people as slaves. Go to any government office and see for yourself the attitude of clerks and other potentates, that is if they can be found in their seats during office hours. (Even Grama Sevakas have become Grama Niladaris). The cries and wailings of the common man are ignored despite a massive allocation of the budget expended annually on a staff, often in wanto excess of the needs of departments, by the grace of the common man. Perhaps the worm will turn one day.

To whom else can the people complain except to the national newspapers at least to record their travails for the benefit of posterity. Ministerial secretaries and even ministers have no ears to hear. They have been amply plugged against the cries of the common man who is created like a damned nuisance except at election time when, with joined plams and ingratiating smile, they tap at every door.

At times I wonder why I should not become a professional politician. A voice within me whispers, 'You are not a patriot'. A pity that! else, the dollars would roll in, and I would emerge triumphantly from my present penury.

Foreign experts or commissions are not required to diagnose this debilitating virus galloping away during the last few decades. Everyone knows the root cause ' nurtured and promoted by every government in power ' lies in the direct intervention of politicians in administration (appointments, promotions, transfers, etc.) and their demand that all government departments should work for them and their party supporters, no matter at what cost ' bend or break the rules and to hell with principles. In short, the public service had been geared by them to gather votes at the next election.

It is time, in the national interest to clear the stables, and to develop a stable, a political civil administration that can function smoothly irrespective of turbulence and rivalry in politics. That calls for honest and selfless leaders of all parties to issue a firm consensual reminder to the entire public service, and to heads of departments in particular, that their prime duty is to serve the people and to implement the policies of government with efficiency, honesty and fidelity, no matter which party is in power. It would be ideal if a warning could also be nailed on the foreheads of politicians that the public service is not their private property.

Compulsory retirement
It is sad that even once exemplary departments, like Dept X have sensed the ominous shadows of political monsters hovering over them. The high standards maintained in the past are in peril now.

About three decades ago, there were bad eggs in that department too, but the administration was such the they were easily identified. Remedies prescribed in the rules of the public service to correct, punish and finally to weed them out were applied effectively. As result of continuous monitoring despite the large numbers involved, a workforce of numerous grades, cadres and disciplines, had been built up over the years. They were competent, dedicated and efficient.

I can remember that once a year the sluice gates were opened and the rubbish was released: a few workers were retired compulsorily for inefficiency.

It would be in the public interest for the Public Service Commission to publish a list of all the departments and the numbers compulsorily retired from, say, 1990 onwards. It would give the people who are maintaining this service an idea of its efficiency. Going on those statistics, where in many departments not one worker has been found wanting, we would inevitably conclude that we are blessed with an efficient service where every worker is pulling his weight. But the evidence before our very eyes is to the contrary, a most inefficient, callous, corrupt and parasitic outfit. A fair share of the blame must also be attributed to the chief workers, the heads, who are not above board.

Heads of most departments, other than the 'closed departments' come and go, moving sideways or upwards depending on their buoyancy. Their attitude is: why bother to check on inefficiency, corruption and malpractices when they can ignore and depart in due course, their popularity unimpaired and their sins of omission and commission forgotten. They are also not averse to giving 'excellent' reports even to scoundrels.

Compulsory retirement of a worker at any level is not an arbitrary and capricious decision of the head of a department or ministry. There are rules to be followed: a shirker or delinquent has to be alerted to his shortcomings, followed by warnings, stoppage and deferment of increments, before the final grave step of compulsory retirement is taken. It means cutting short a worker's career, entitling him to a reduced pension for his period of service. It is a simple and just principle being applied: if you do not work, you shall not eat at the expense of the people. Government should not be thought of as a heritable institution. Sometimes, compulsory retirement is euphemistically referred to as a merciful alternative to dismissal. In the present state of the service, mercy would be misplaced.

Motivation is the concept that is popularly used to increase productivity. Sermonising is another concept. In the present context of a crippled, unproductive public service, these two concepts might take many decades to bear fruit. The best remedy is a combination of these two concepts with easily applicable punishments of sufficient severity, justly and uniformly administered at all levels, to drive home the message: Work or depart.


Against Eternity

Well known poet Anne Ranasinghe has been selected as the 2nd Place Winner in the International Open Amateur Poetry Competition conducted by the International Library of Poetry for her competition entry 'Against Eternity' as published in 'A Quiet Storm.'

Under the sparse grass
Deep in the soil I have built a chamber.
It is cemented two feet by two,
And is eternally in darkness.

Your ashes entombed in a terracotta urn,
Its mouth sealed fast against seepage of rain,
Rest here, and one shrivelled spring of bougainvillia.
You cherished the young plant, a gift from your son.

This land has been sold to me in perpetuity.
It is your home now, in perpetuity,
This lonely vault. I sealed it
And heaped the earth.

Yet still my days are geared
Towards the evening's sharing.
But then I lie alone
And know your final absence.

The sun ' glorious sun
Gives song to the morning.
I bring you flowers from our garden
Against eternity and darkness.

Anne Ranasinghe


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