Mani Velupillai

Early June 1987 a bevy of ladies, in fine array, stepped into Galle Detention Camp and stood in a row behind the barbed-wire fence that divided the head and the body of the camp. They appeared to be scrutinizing the inmates through the fence as though the inmates were all typical terrorists. Under scrutiny were over 2,000 men, including the writer, shipped in from Vadamaradchy in the wake of Operation Liberation (May 26 to 31, 1987).

I was intrigued by their presence. Leisure? Curiosity? Condescension? I was not sure. It was obvious, however, that they all belonged to the elite. I scanned the ladies arrayed behind the fence. My heart began to throb as my eyes fell on Srimani Athulathmudali (who passed away recently). I recognized her at a glance. Her pictures, including her memorable wedding picture from Geneva where she got married to the late Lalith Athulathmudali, had appeared in newspapers. She was conspicuous, looked sophisticated and displayed an affable attitude. I felt a sudden urge to talk to her. Within seconds I found myself talking to her through the fence.

“Madam” I said. “They dropped leaflets from the air asking us to take refuge in temples. They specified 16 temples across Vadamaradchy. We obeyed. But they arrested, chained, beat up and shipped us here. While arresting us they told our wailing relatives that we would be released after an inquiry in one hour. But it’s days since our arrest…”

“O.K. Why did they bring you all here then?” she asked.

“We don’t know why, Madam. We don’t care why we’re here. But our relatives must be informed that we’re alive and that we’re here. 

She nodded her head and added “You’re right.” Her colleagues too looked at us with approval. She suggested that we submit her a list containing the name and address of each of the inmates so that she might advise our relatives of our whereabouts. 

Srimani was horrified to hear from us that there were only six (6) toilets attached to the camp, that most of us had been controlling calls of nature for hours, and that none of us had bathed or changed for weeks. Her revulsion at our wretchedness emboldened us to demand baths, clothing and additional toilets. She said she would meet our demands in one week. We pointed out to her that most of us were GCE students awaiting examinations shortly, and that many of us, like the writer, were over 40 and married. Having spent nearly an hour talking to us Srimani and her colleagues left the camp in disarray. If they had entered the camp under the illusion that we were all terrorists from Vadamaradchy, then they must have been disillusioned on their way out. 

Signs of her own disillusionment were evident on her second visit to the camp exactly a week later. A guard walked me up to the head of the camp where Srimani was seated. She smiled at me. We greeted each other and shook hands.

“You have been an official translator, haven’t you?” she asked me.

“Yes, I have, Madam.”

“In that case you’ll interpret my remarks”.

“With pleasure, Madam”.

I interpreted into a megaphone in Tamil what she said in English: “We belong to the Seva Vanitha Sanga of the Ministry of National Security. We understand your grievances. We’re doing our best to help you all. We’re interested in your well-being. We checked with the authorities about your presence here. We hear your matters will be processed quickly. The order of priority will be: GCE students, the married, over 40...” Srimani was interrupted by a tumultuous applause from the body of the camp. She continued: “We’ll have 50 more toilets put up for you..” She was interrupted again by another round of applause. She pleaded “Please avoid interrupting me. We’re running out of time. But, you’ll have baths attached to your camp in 2 days. This drew a prolonged ovation. We’have brought you clothing too…” Applause again. “And finally, we’ve already informed your relatives that you boys are all here... For this piece of information Srimani received a standing ovation to the chagrin of the jailers. 

In conclusion she shook hands with me again and gave me a set of clothing: a sarong, a T-shirt and a towel. Every inmate received a similar set. Srimani left the camp as everybody was singing her praise. The following day a Muslim guard showed me a copy of The Virakesari with the headline: MGR outraged at Operation Liberation & demands immediate action against Colombo”. He told me his peers were visibly shaken by MGR’s reaction. Srimani, however, kept all her promises. Within days we had 50 toilets and baths attached to the camp. Most of the GCE students, the married, and those more than 40 years old were released in that order within weeks. All the inmates except for about 200 were freed in one month. Only a few remained after the Indo-Lankan Accord was signed on July 29, 1987. No doubt MGR’s intervention bulldozed Colombo into action. 

When I returned home after my release on June 19, 1987 I saw the letter mailed by Srimani in Tamil informing my family of my whereabouts. They told me the letter brought them back to life. The first thing I did on my return to Vadamaradchy was to write a letter to Srimani expressing my profound gratitude. 

I sent her, from Canada, a copy of An Encounter With Lalith Athulathmudali, a contribution of mine to Lanka Guardian (1993): And I sent her a letter when she lost her husband whom I had met in the same camp previously. She replied to my letters. My encounters with both Lalith and Srimani Athulathmudali at Galle Detention Camp have always been fresh in my mind. More than 2,000 sons of Vadamaradchy who were confined to Galle Detention Camp in the wake of Operation Liberation  share her relatives’ grief over their irreparable loss. 

Mani Velupillai 
manivelupillai@hotmail.com 
2004/12/19