Daily Mirror (Sri Lanka)

‘DON’T LET LOVE DISAPPEAR’

- By Kalani Kumarasing­he

W.P. Ariyasena was last seen on the evening of December 12, 1989. Caught between the violence of two forces of the Government and rebels, Ariyasena was one among hundreds who never returned home during the reign of terror. “He left for the town, during the curfew, to bring home a bag of rice. He only wanted to feed our children. That was the last time I saw my husband” his wife, Charlotte Mangalika from Hambantota, recalled.

Four months pregnant at the time, Mangalika received the message that her husband was ‘taken’. “I was helpless, I couldn’t do anything,” she said adding that she feels no different even today. Thirty years later, Mangalika was joined by the Families of the Disappeare­d, in Colombo, to celebrate Missing Lovers Day at the Dutch Hospital on the eve of February 14, the day designated for love and affection.

As countless loving couples strolled about the cobbleston­e precinct, lost in conversati­on, S.H. Nandaseeli, also from Hambantota, gazed at them dotingly. Sitting at a table decorated with a posy of white roses and strings of light, she said that days like this are evocative of both warm and nd violent memories. “Soldiers took my husband away in

1990. They dragged him away alleging that he was involved in JVP activity. Our house was doused in fire. Friends became foes. I was left with three traumatise­d children. I searched for my husband far and wide, in every Army camp and police station,” Nandaseeli i recollecte­d, her eyes welled d with tears. “But on days like e this, I remember how fond we were of each other. We too oo had a loving family life with ith our children. He disappeare­d red without a trace. But they can’t n’t make my love for him disappear,” ar,” she charged.

Social media ia campaign

The Missing Lovers Day y 2019, organised by the Families of the Disappeare­d was an evening of observance, reminiscen­ce and hope. Weeks ahead of Valentine’s Day, an attractive social media campaign invited lovers, old and new, to join these families awaiting their loved ones. As aggrieved families shared their cherished memories, brutal truths and overwhelmi­ng feelings of love and hope, the evening progressed into an important and empowering discussion of justice and accountabi­lity.

Clutching a framed photograph of her long lost lover, 56-year-old Chandralat­ha recalls how worrying it was to raise their children following the disappeara­nce of her husband. “If not for my family, I wouldn’t have been able to take care of my children. I had an aunt who was willing to look after my children while I worked. But my son didn’t continue with his education beyond the Ordinary Level Examinatio­n,” she said, adding that her son was a bright student in school. “He asked me one day, if I can afford to pay for university education. I had no answer. Now he is a fisherman, and takes on various odd jobs to provide for his sister and me,” Chandralat­ha revealed.

Since the abduction of her spouse, 61-year-old Wimalawath­i from Devundara has worked as a casual labourer for over thirty years. “I wasn’t employed when they took my husband away. I searched high and low for my husband Nandapala. We were married for eight years, but I didn’t know how to manage on my own,” she said. Since the abduction in 1989, Wimalawath­i has relied on various means of income, including drying fish, domestic labour as well as various odd jobs such as assisting masons at constructi­ons sites. “I did everything I could think of to keep my children alive. But I couldn’t educate all of them,” she said regretfull­y. The youngest three of her seven children were more fortunate as they sat for the O/L Examinatio­n. The others were unable to follow educationa­l pursuits and couldn’t even complete their elementary schooling.

“My children couldn’t receive the education they deserved. Now they’re stuck in the same rut as the rest of us, because they depend on a day’s wage working as casual labourers,” Wimalawath­i lamented.

The economic difficulti­es expressed by these families of missing persons have deep roots in a variety of factors including the loss of the breadwinne­r and in most cases, the loss of property. These are the concerns they expressed in addition to the expenses related to the search of their loved ones.

Veena still has belief

While a majority of the participan­ts at the event were from the South of Sri La Lanka, families from the North search searching for their loved ones, shared their e experience­s, not too different from their t counterpar­ts of the South. Veena Yogendran from Batticaloa took t the stage as attentive crowds began to gather around slowly. “Vale “Valentines was always a special day for fo us as my husband would take m me sightseein­g, it was to a new place e every year,” recalled Veena with tears streaming down her cheeks. As she recollecte­d memories of her marri marriage of five years, in a strong and determined tone, Veena said tha that she still believes that her lo lover is alive. “Where ever you a are, I love you!’ she asserted to a moved audience. “I cannot utter anymore words other than my love for you, because I’m overcome with grief,” she m moaned. “I would never wish th this pain on anyone,” she added befo before she left the stage. Neeta Abeydeera Abe took the stage next and re recalled the difficulty of raising her children without a father’s love, she requested the young members of the audience to protect their loved ones. “Don’t make love disappear” she appealed.

As prominent activists including wife of disappeare­d journalist Prageeth Ekneligoda, Sandya Ekneligoda and President of the Families of the Disappeare­d organisati­on’s Brito Fernando looked on, young groups of musicians soothed the crowds with their renditions of popular romantic tunes. Observing the evening’s proceeding­s in a corner, with a toddler in tow, is the sister of Balasumbra­maniam Nageswaran from Chenkalady, Batticaloa. Balasubram­aniam, only 19 years old at the time, was last seen in 1996, while working in the family field. He disappeare­d without a trace, leaving his sister and mother in charge of the family’s dairy cows. Balasubram­aniam was the breadwinne­r of the family and his disappeara­nce left the family not only in dire straits, but also in complete shock. “Unable to cope with my brother’s disappeara­nce, our mother suffered repeated strokes and is now bedridden,” Balasubram­aniam’s sister who was accompanie­d by an aunt,said.

The disappeara­nces of these young men, during the dark days of unrest, has left distraught and disrupted families headed by females. While poverty is widespread among these families, they highlight a lack of support and systematic initiative­s to ensure that the family is sustained. Having searched for answers together, wives, mothers and children later that evening, shared their bitterswee­t stories with audience members, gifted couples in the audience a red rose, with the humble request, ‘protect your love. Don’t let love disappear’

PIX BY KUSHAN PATHIRAJA

The Missing Lovers Day 2019 was an evening of observance, reminiscen­ce and hope

The economic difficulti­es expressed by these families of missing persons have deep roots

While poverty is widespread among these families, they highlight a lack of support

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