If this is a ‘concentration camp’, then it is certainly a great place to be, considering the conditions of such facilities elsewhere in the world and throughout history. If the Government was truly unconcerned and was determined to let these people rot in ‘abysmal’ conditions, there would be no doctors, no medicine, no toilets, no proper water supply system, no reunification programme, no education and no visits allowed. There would be instead torture chambers, hundreds of troops within these zones, and harassment at every turn

By Malinda Seneviratne
Last week I went to a ‘concentration camp’. Yes, right here in Sri Lanka. I went to a place where conditions for the inmates were ‘abysmal’. The horror stories I had read in the foreign press and in local commentaries (for example, Rohini Hensman’s in her piece ‘Why are the Vanni civilians still being held hostage?’) convinced me that I would come across torture chambers. I was haunted by the images of people in Darfur, in the Ethiopia of the eighties, Abu Ghraib, Guantanamo and of course in present day Pakistan and Afghanistan.

Last week I went to Cheddikulam and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Nothing I had heard prepared me for what I saw. In a ‘relief village’ called Sumathipuram, Rukmani Devi, a 37-year-old woman, told me that her husband, Murugesu Rajendran, had lost both legs during the last phase of the war to eradicate terrorism. That was a mere triviality, it turned out. The couple had been brought to Sumathipuram from an IDP facility in Vavuniya. Rukmani Devi had accompanied her wounded husband to the Vavuniya camp, leaving behind their five children with a relative. It has been over two months since she last saw her four daughters and son. She had found out that they were all located in Zone 4, an IDP facility located a few miles from Veerapuram.
I asked her if the authorities had been informed. The go-between was a Christian missionary, an IDP himself, who was fluent in both Sinhala and Tamil. Apparently, this David was playing favourites when it came to passing messages from fellow IDPs to those who were in charge of running things. Only one word came to my mind: unacceptable.

A Third World country

There were other stories, of people unable to locate loved ones, of tragedies lived through, hardships endured and depravations experienced in the here and now. Naturally so, because a total close to 300,000 in a few square miles in a Third World country does not make for euphoria. Could things be better? I believe they could. Are things getting worse? I don’t think so. Have things got better? A lot people said ‘yes’. It is never enough, I know. Ask anyone living outside these ‘concentration camps’ whether they are happy with their lot? Few would say ‘yes’. Ask Harry Jayawardena, Lalith Kotelawala or any person belonging to that minority called ‘bourgeoisie’ or its close relative, ‘politicians’, and they would be as unhappy or more.

There are a few things that one should understand about IDPs, I learnt. First, most people who the LTTE dragged with them when pushed by the security forces, suffered unimaginable deprivations. In the last few weeks of the battle, they didn’t have access to medicine, had hardly any water and survived on one glass of kenda (kunji) over and above the fact that they faced death any moment thanks to the fact that they constituted the LTTE’s ‘human shield’ and knew they would be shot at if they attempted to flee. Now that is as close to hell-on-earth as one can get, I believe.

Today, in Cheddikulam, people get three full meals a day. No, it is not exactly a la carte meals, but basic nutritional requirements are met. The children don’t go to ‘Royal College, Cheddikulam’, but they have resumed education activities, in temporary buildings, tents or under trees. There are medical centres in every zone, more than enough medicine and doctors in attendance. Pregnant mothers have access to midwives. They are taken to Vavuniya hospital for delivery, along with other patients who require medical assistance as such the zone medical facilities cannot provide.

Sufficient amenities

There is more than enough water for each person to bathe. There is drinking water and enough toilets. Not those stylish up-market fittings one sees in advertisements of course, but they work. Whereas they had to depend on cooked meals (sometimes stale, unpalatable or unvaried) at the beginning, they now get meals cooked in community kitchens and very soon will be able to cook their own meals. There are Lak Sathosa outlets, banks, postal services and televisions. There are playgrounds for toddlers, volleyball courts and places and equipment for young boys to play cricket. There are pre-school centres. There will be telephones soon. Cargills and Keells outlets are to open shortly. The garbage is regularly collected and disposed.

They are not ‘penniless’, these people. Many are public servants who receive salaries. There are many pensioners as well. Some get money from relatives abroad, depositing in their bank accounts. Some are visited by relatives who give them money. And of course, there are others who do not have what it takes to purchase what they believe are essentials. We have to throw into the equation the largesse of numerous organisations, INGOs, NGOs, businesses, ordinary people and UN agencies. We have to add the hundreds of Christian missionaries, some belonging to unheard of denominations, who are swarming all over these facilities. Regardless of their true intentions, they too ‘provide’ material benefits to these people.

I know people living in what were then called threatened villages and those living far away from the conflict who have far less by way of physical comforts and access to proper education, health services and other amenities such as drinking water and sanitation.

Rukmani Devi has a problem. It is a problem that is common to a lot of people living in these conditions. It is a problem that state agencies have taken head on. The relevant regional and village-level officials, with the support of the police and the IDPs themselves are doing their utmost to reunify families and to make sure that relatives and friends outside have access to the IDPs. It is also true that the Government is sparing no pains to allow those over 60 years of age to go live with people who are prepared to look after them. Both these are programmes of the ‘on-going’ kind. More than 9,000 persons over 60 years of age have not left these ‘relief villages’. Those who do not have someone to take care of them have the option of going to homes for the elderly run by the Social Services Department.

I do believe that if the policy has it that those above 60 are considered ‘safe’ in terms of security-related issues they should be given the choice to go where they wish to, if they want to leave. It is possible that such people might end up on the streets and the BBC, timesonline and the Rohini Hensmans of this world to turn around and berate the Government for ‘not looking after the elderly’, but the Government can then take all such old men and women as can be located and bring them to Hensman’s house.
Doctors in “concentration camps?”

If this is a ‘concentration camp’, then it is certainly a great place to be, considering the conditions of such facilities elsewhere in the world and throughout history. If the Government was truly unconcerned and was determined to let these people rot in ‘abysmal’ conditions, there would be no doctors, no medicine, no toilets, no proper water supply system, no reunification programme, no education and no visits allowed. There would be instead torture chambers, hundreds of troops within these zones, and harassment at every turn.

The conditions have been getting better. Soon the IDPs will be moved to zones that make for better management, smaller in size, with better housing facilities. The reunification work will be over soon. All those over 60 who wished to leave would have done so. Relatives and friends will know where exactly their loved ones are located and will be able to communicate with them. Time makes for improvement, and so there will be a more streamlined operation in place in the weeks and months to come.

Freedom of movement

All things taken into account, I believe, only the issue of ‘freedom of movement’ remains unaddressed, or at least ‘unknown’. I understand the prerogatives that come from security concerns. Considering that LTTE cadres continue to be identified in these facilities, it is reasonable to expect any Government to err on the side of caution. ‘Screening’ takes time. It is not a ‘one-day’ affair as Rohini Hensman thinks it can be. There will always be those who will not surrender and it is unfair to demand people to hand over LTTE suspects. They have more things to worry about, even if they were anti-LTTE (which is also something that can be assumed only at risk).

Handling the affairs of close to 300,000 people is no joke and only the naïve and downright stupid would advocate such things.
A 70-year-old woman in a ‘welfare village’ Cheddikulam was reunited with her son-in-law a few days ago. She was suffering from Parkinson’s Disease. She had to be helped into the Commanding Officer of the camp. As she was formally handed over to her son-in-law, the woman struggled to get on her knees to worship the Army Officer. The officer stopped her and said ‘ammata vandinna one mamai’ (it is I who should be worshipping you, mother). He had tears in his eyes.

That was not an uncommon embrace, I realised, after walking through all welfare villages in the area. The concern and humanity of officers working in these facilities, the cooperation of the IDPs themselves, especially public servants such as teachers, principals and grama niladharis to make the best out of less than comfortable circumstances was heartening.

Doing their best

Are all these officers saints? No, they are not. No one is, in fact. They are all doing their best. They are all working round the clock. Many of them have not seen their own children in months. There is a chain of authority, there is a system and there is a strictness that is very visible. I tried to visualise conditions where these things were absent. Having seen what there is to be seen, I am convinced that this other ‘reality’ is not an option.

At the same time, as a citizen, I do not want any fellow-citizen to remain in these conditions indefinitely. The speedy return to their homes, however, depends on everyone cooperating, everyone doing their bit and more than all this, to be responsible in their description. It is one thing to alert authorities to problems and to suggest pragmatic correctives to apparent flaws, and quite another to give a free run to a wild imagination.

Rukmani Devi’s aspirations are the aspiration of any mother. She belongs to a community in whose name an aspiration called Eelam was demanded. Those who demanded have reduced Rukmani Devi to a situation where she has to beg to see her children. That is the length and breadth of her Eelam today. No one should suffer such indignities. No 70 plus woman should be in a situation where she feels obliged to genuflect in appreciation to a younger man. That is an indignity to the entire nation.

Not Hiltons in Vanni

The ‘relief villages’ in Cheddikulam are not the Vanni versions of the Hilton. They are certainly not concentration camps either. Those who say conditions are ‘abysmal’ have probably lived very sheltered lives. All things considered, I believe there is enough reason to hope.
Malinda Seneviratne is a freelance writer who can be reached at malinsene@gmail.com.

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