Looking back on a meaningful journey
On the early morning of Friday, August 1, after long weeks of planning, we finally set off from Colombo on the long awaited journey to Mullaitivu for the Youth Awareness Project on Gender Based Violence (YAP on GBV).
Children being placed into teams with T-shirts provided by YAP
Last year, rather than working in the hustle and bustle of Colombo’s corporate world, my brother chose instead to construct houses in war ravaged Mullaitivu, to gain his work experience right after his O’ Levels. When we went around the area, there was hardly a house in a habitable state, most were without roofs. All walls were peppered with bullet holes, and the paint and mortar were peeling off. It was a truly devastating sight.
It was a huge contrast to what we saw now. The abandoned houses were now fully repaired and had become homes once again – with their rightful owners back in occupation. The debris of war that had littered the land had been mostly cleared. As we drove past, a small catchment of water – now almost dry, and a mud hole at best – brimming with lotuses, with storks and egrets picking their way, one meditative step at a time, caught my eye. The languid beauty of this sight was in sharp contrast to the very different surroundings. Despite nearly eight months of drought, the abundant vegetation in the area was, in its own way, beautiful too.
When my brother returned from Mullaitivu last year, he recounted his experience and observations; the quiet strength of the women, struggling to survive in a harsh society where a woman without a man, be it father or husband is marginalised. Yet, their resoluteness had been hard to miss. He came back convinced of the need to speak up, if not for them, at least for their children. That was when my brother and I decided to start the BSSI trust, which was set up with the funds raised from the RMDA Concert. Funding for the Youth Awareness Project on Gender Based Violence (YAP on GBV) would come from here.
The night we arrived, military officers hosted us to dinner on the beach, under millions of stars, a sight rarely seen in our urban jungle. There we were joined by two delightful young girls from the area, who told us of some hardships they faced during the war.
Their happiness about the end of the war was still visible, even after around five years of peace. They were very keen to get to know us, and we, them. We talked and danced on the beach, just a bunch of carefree youth, bound by mutual feelings of hope and excitement, of what our futures may hold for us.
The next day was the first of the long awaited YAP on GBV workshops. As we walked into the Pudukuthiyyiruppu District Secretariat hall, we were greeted by many fresh, young smiling faces of the youth- all between the ages of 13 and 18- of Mullaitivu. The programme began with an extremely effective, interactive play staged by the Act 4 Theatre group, followed by lunch, and thereafter, an hour of essay writing and creative drawing.
It was encouraging seeing how enthusiastically engaged the kids became during the interactive part of the play. It was also a telling revelation that a few of the boys in the audience found the sections where violence against women was perpetrated, to be very amusing. As disturbing as it was to observe the desensitisation of some to violence, we understood even better the significance of our quest, to change the attitudes of youth towards violence. Somehow. Someday.
The next day was all about sports. As expected, there was some resistance initially to the inclusion of girls into sports such as cricket and football. But as the excitement of the games took over, gender differences evaporated. Could it be possible that maybe we had planted a seed of thought at least in a few young minds?
When I look back on it as I often do, Mullaitivu and its people symbolise the lotuses, surviving, no, THRIVING in the harsh drought.