THE GREAT LEVELLER JILLIAN RAY reports on the long process of reconstruction in Seenigama, Sri Lanka
THE TSUNAMI HIT the village of Seenigama without discrimination on 26 December 2004. It did not distinguish between wooden beach shack and solid brick home, between man and woman, fisherman and teacher. Everything in the path of the wave was destroyed.
The stretch of coastal villages nearby is as bad as I have seen on the south coast of Sri Lanka.Yet Seenigama is in a unique situation compared to its neighbors. The village is the ancestral home of philanthropist Kushil Gunasekera, who took it upon himself five years ago to improve the plight of his village. Kushil built the ‘Foundation of Goodness’, which comprised a community centre attached to his holiday home. He also happens to be manager of Sri Lanka’s superstar spin bowler Muttiah Muralitharan.
The Foundation of Goodness has now taken the lead role in rebuilding Seenigama. Just hours after the event, Kushil was organising relief to the area, after saving himself in the waves and hitchhiking to Colombo by night. Three months later, the charity has undertaken a huge number of programs and even built its first new home.
Reconstruction decisions invariably cause tempers to flare. The community is stricken with grief, terrified and living in conditions totally foreign to them. On a weekly basis a panicked mass of people runs inland as a false tsunami alarm is raised.Moreover, the complex social structure that has existed for generations further complicates matters.
Take the example of the De Silva* family. The De Silvas are friendly, warm people that I got to know whilst in Seenigama. They were clearly wealthy by village standards – they had a brick home, decent jobs and were able to educate their children to a high standard. However, like so many other families they have now lost their home, all possessions and, tragically, several family members.
I was initially shocked by a conversation I had with my friend – a member of this family – a few days after the tsunami. She appealed to me to help her.Yet she didn’t ask for water, food or medical attention – she was most deeply concerned with the loss of her gold, her saris and her handbags: “Now I have nothing,” she cried.
My immediate reaction was standoffish. I couldn’t believe she was worried about these trivial items when her village was lying in rubble around her and she had even lost family members. It wasn’t until I thought about my own actions after the tsunami that my friend’s response made sense.
Around lunchtime on December 27th I was collected by an Australian High Commission vehicle after spending only one night in a camp.My safety and comfort were immediately ensured, and over the next few weeks I spent spare moments shopping for clothes, shoes and jewellery to replace what I had lost. I got my insurance payout and all was well in my privileged little world.
I felt guilty for questioning and judging my friend’s ‘needs’. I realised we are all a product of our place in the world, each seeing our needs through our own unique prism.
The Foundation of Goodness answers to a representative body of the Seenigama people, not vice versa. However, it is interesting that in early February this body agreed to give the first rebuilt home to one of the poorest women in Seenigama.
Nandanwathi, the recipient, was widowed only three weeks before the tsunami, and previously lived in a tiny, dark, wooden hut. She has four children who will share her new home.When I spoke with her it was clear how overjoyed she was with a place far more comfortable than her previous dwelling.
It makes you wonder. Before the horrors of last December Seenigama was a beautiful, happy place to live. But as for Nandanwathi, perhaps it is possible that the tsunami could actually be a gift – the opportunity to make Seenigama better than ever.
*Name changed for privacy reasons.
Jillian Ray is the Australian Youth Ambassador for Development at the Foundation of Goodness, Seenigama, Sri Lanka
