Sri Lanka

Tsunami Gold – But Not For Everyone

By Katey Grusovin

KIRINDA & TRINCOMALEE. Sri Lanka. A young spindly boy with an air of quiet intensity gently tends to his homing pigeons in the backyard of a new caramel colored bungalow on one of the gleaming new modern housing settlements that have sprung up around the tiny Port Town of Kirinda in Hambantota District since the tsunami struck almost two years back.

Kirinda, a predominantly Malaya Muslim fishing village, lies in Sri Lanka’s extreme south eastern corner, about 170 miles from the capital Colombo, in an area famed for its wild elephants, exotic birdlife and the creamy buffalo curd and treacle sold on the sides of the dusty roads that criss-cross the District. It is also an important pilgrimage site for Sri Lankans of all faiths.

Here the waves swept inland savaging residential areas, the civic centre and Kirinda’s picturesque natural harbor. 90 per cent of fishermen lost their livelihoods in a matter of seconds as boats were tossed around like confetti and smashed by the powerful tidal surges that killed 78 people - leaving 16 year old Farouk Mohammad Riaz parentless.

Riaz is a student in grade 11 at Kirinda Muslim High School which was severely damaged on the same day he lost his parents and an older sister. Now he lives with his elder brothers Nawaz, a fisherman aged 22 years, and Niyaz, 18 years and unemployed, in his only surviving sister’s new home. The three brothers have recently been allotted a brand new house of their own on the same estate but as there are no women left to care for them or do the domestic chores, they are reluctant to move into it just yet.

Under the Government’s Fit Person’s Orders, Riaz was legally fostered to his brothers in March of this year. In the aftermath of the tsunami, UNICEF advocated with the Government to utilize the existing legal mechanism for the assessment and issuance of legal fostering, allowing extended family members to become official guardians to children left ‘separated’ (children without parents but with extended family) by the tsunami. This was in order to ensure that children would go to caring and appropriate family environments rather than being institutonalized. Riaz is one of 770 (out of 1,582) children benefiting from this Act. “I am very happy this has happened finally,” he whispers with a shy grin.

In the past, the Malays of Kirinda have fared just above the poverty line but since the tsunami life has taken a dramatic turn for the better in the view of Mr Jalaluddin, the fine featured long standing headmaster of Riaz’s school. “Some here call the tsunami the ‘invisible God’ for the benefits it has brought to the community. For the first time people are living in houses with electricity, water and proper toilets,” he says seated in the crammed, pokey office from where he oversees the schools reconstruction while ensuring that the education of students continues smoothly in the temporary classrooms dotted around the grounds. “Now there are more than double the number of fishing boats which has meant greater employment and a new hospital is being built.”

Mr Jalaluddin is determined to use the tragedy of the tsunami as an opportunity to make lasting changes and improvements to education and the recognition of its value for both girls and boys among the mostly poor backward fisherfolk community. “We have started a School Development Society, which meets every three months, to involve parents in the running of the school and education related issues such as teacher training and children’s security. People’s attitudes to education here have changed a lot in the last few years. In 1989 none of the girls in Kirinda went to school. Now around 85 per cent of the girls attend but I want to see 100 per cent of them in classes. The new school will help make this happen,” says the Principal with a mission.

“When the school is completed it will have spacious classrooms, more play areas, new sanitation facilities and staff quarters to attract the quality teaching staff who would never entertained the prospect of coming here in the past”, says UNICEF’s Head of Education Ita Sheehy. Facilities have been designed to create a child friendly learning environment where interactive teaching and child participation will help children fully develop their potential.

Kajol attends her class in a temporary classroom at the Kirinda Muslim High School, in Hambantota District.

182 schools were either damaged or destroyed by the tsunami. UNICEF and UNOPS is currently supporting the construction and repair of 35 permanent schools - the first two of which were completed in August 2006. Altogether these schools, including both primary and secondary schools, will benefit approximately 25,000 children.

“The tsunami killed my parents and destroyed our home, but now it seems a new life has blossomed from the destruction of the disaster. We have a new house, a new school is being built, my brother has a new boat and there are lots of opportunities in the air. I am looking forward to my new life. I want to study hard and pursue higher education. It seems like it is possible now,” says Riaz on his way to attend an after hours class in computer literacy offered by the school. His future is looking brighter than ever.

For those living at Thamraikulam Camp in Sri Lanka’s troubled North East, it’s a very different story. The promise of new housing, better schools and basic services in the wake of the tsunami has come to a standstill with the outbreak of new fighting which has brought violence and instability.

According to A.C. Nihardeen, camp leader of Thamraikulam, in the first few months locals dubbed their new reality ‘tsunami gold” given the windfall of opportunities and benefits promised to a population battered and bruised by years of insecurity and poor investment. That was then. The lives of the 114 families living here have remained in a holding pattern due to the escalation in hostilities that began in late 2005.

Clutching his baby daughter in his arms, Nihardeen motions towards a large settlement in the distant haze. “That is where our new permanent houses are being built. They were meant to be finished by October this year but they are only 50 per cent complete. NGOs stopped coming here late last year when things started to go bad. All the work stopped. None of them have come back this year because of the lack of security,” he tells.

This new settlement is one of five ‘friendship villages’ being built by the Japanese as a way of fostering peace and harmony between Sri Lanka’s different ethnic groups. When it is complete, there will be 246 permanent houses on this settlement alone: 136 for Tamil families and 110 for Muslim families. “In Vellur Tamil and Muslim people have always lived together happily”, says Nihardeen, “for despite the present situation the majority of us are still friends and want it to stay that way.”

Because of its proximity to a nearby rebel base, Thamraikulam Camp has had to endure constant shelling striking terror into the hearts of the children, frequently interrupting their education as well as the livelihood prospects of a population dependent on fishing and agriculture for income.

“We are caught between both sides. We have not been able to fish since July. There is nothing for us to do. We could leave and move to Kantale but at least here we have some structure and safety although we lack food and have no earning capacity,” says A.C.Nihardeen. Their nearby half completed homes are a bittersweet reminder of what could have been. For now their main concern is ensuring their children are fed and that their basic needs are met. Nevertheless A.C Nihardeen is intensely proud of the house he hopes his family will one day live in. “It is better than anything we had before.”

Nasma, 33 years, lives at Thamraikulam camp with her husband Mutsakin a fisherman, and their three children. A solid, meaty, handsome woman with strong expressive hands – she is eight months pregnant with their fourth child. Her tiny home, constructed of wood and corrugated iron sheeting, is kept meticulously clean.

At the time the tsunami struck Nasma was taking a bath. She managed to grab her youngest son Bahadur, now 4 years old, and run while her mother fled with her two older children. “A moment later we would have died,” she said. While her entire family survived, they lost everything they had including their home. After a brief spell at another temporary camp they came to Thamraikulam and have been here ever since. Like A.C. Nihardeen her family has been allocated a new permanent home in the same settlement. She says she has visited the site only once but cannot bear to go back again for the prospect of doing so would just add to the heartbreak and woes she feels already.

Like all the other men folk, the only fishing her husband can do is cast a net out from the shoreline and hope for slim pickings. With next to no catch the community has had to resort to selling their dwindling possessions and cattle to feed hungry mouths. They were receiving relief from NGOs but “they don’t come anymore,” Nasma sighs. Fish, which was once bountiful, is now way beyond the means of those who live here. Whereas before it was 50-60 Rupees a kilo it now costs up to 350 Rupees a kilo for fish imported from Colombo.

But Nasma’s biggest worry is being pregnant and suffering from low blood pressure. “If there is an emergency I don’t know what will happen.”

Nearly two years down the line, like many fellow partners and organizations UNICEF’s tsunami recovery work has been increasingly thwarted by the growing violence wracking the county. At one point in August of this year, more than 60,000 people were displaced within the District across 50 sites) when fighting erupted over a water sluice gate triggering a massive human emergency. A further 32,000 people left the District for sanctuary elsewhere,

UNICEF had moved from emergency assistance to recovery and reconstruction – revolving around the building and renovation of health facilities and schools, strengthened community based care, nutritional surveillance, the provision of psychosocial support activities in 62 villages through women’s and children’s groups through the district as well as continuing to support the provision of safe water and sanitary latrines at all transitional sites, and the promotion of hygienic behaviour to contain the threat of sickness and disease

Says Yasmin Haque, UNICEF’s Senior Programme Officer “The tragedy here is that many of these people have suffered multiple displacements over the years. Conflict, tsunami, annual monsoons and conflict again. While last year we struggled with the fact that the majority of assistance being provided in Sri Lanka’s North East was targeting tsunami-affected populations where as conflict-affected populations still in great need were often being overlooked - now nearly two years down the line with the resumption of hostilities the reverse is now happening. Agencies have had to abandon their tsunami recovery and long term development projects in order to respond to the pressing needs exacted by the current emergency. Our worry is that the upsurge in violence is keeping tsunami and conflict affected children from attending classes, as well as hampering the delivery of vital programmes in health and nutrition. At the end of the day it is children who pay the highest price.”

Nasma continues with her daily chores while trying to keep an eye on her mischievous son Bahadur. “One of the most important things now is having a proper sleep. You wonder why God created us. Especially us here in the North East. Our fate is in the hands of the Gods. We just have to be flexible.”

A New Life for Tsunami Widowers in Sri Lanka