By Dinithi Gunasekera
“We have been stuck inside from 22 October till today (1 December). That is 40 days. Following the curfew, they imposed a lockdown on the 8th,” said Methsanda Sevana (Block B) President Ramesh Kumara, of the apartment complex on Henamulla Road, Modara, speaking to The Sunday Morning Brunch.
“I speak not from preference, but from our need for rights and necessities. The residents of our complex are currently undergoing severe anguish, as they are helpless. We are not allowed to step out any further than our doorstep.”
[caption id="attachment_107741" align="alignleft" width="300"]
"The communities in concern have never been a burden to the system up until now, as their daily-wage earnings would suffice. The minute you cut that off, they are left totally vulnerable…their days of resilience are short-lived if they can't go to work" Colombo Urban Regeneration Project Researcher Iromi Perera [/caption]
According to Kumara, three leaders per floor of each complex are in charge of the disposal of household garbage and going to the shops for essentials, appointed by the Police.
“We are, however, provided with two relief food packs by the Government, each costing Rs. 5,000 and Rs. 10,000, respectively. They consist of dry rations and essentials such as chickpea, mung beans, cowpea, rice, soya meat, flour, milk powder, and so on. We are grateful to the Government for these packs. We are fully aware that it is beyond the Government’s capacity to consider each and every individual’s best interest, given the current situation, and we do not expect that from them,” expressed Kumara.
Colombo Municipal Council (CMC) Media Secretary Viraj Tharaka, speaking to The Sunday Morning Brunch, shared that the Modara area will continue to be kept under isolation for days to come. When asked if there was talk of any amendments towards relaxing the current lockdown status in the area, he commented that no such plan is in discussion as of yet, due to the foreseeably worsening conditions in the area, in terms of the virus.
The Modara Police Division Officer-in-Charge (OIC) confirmed that only the Sathsiru Sevana and Methsanda Sevana flats in Modara, Colombo North, are currently under isolation. Including Modara, 13 police divisions are in isolation, such as that of Bloemendhal and Kotahena.
Trapped on a sinking ship
Being confined in their homes for 40 days, the residents of Methsanda Sevana and other apartment complexes within the North of Colombo – mostly daily wage earners – have no income.
“There is no method of supplying gas for everyone. They arranged a mechanism for us to access the shops in Block C through the appointed officials, but we no longer have the money to purchase basic goods such as vegetables, fish or meat, medicine, and sanitary products for women at our own shops,” explained Kumara.
Almost none of them have a six-figure saving and own no expensive properties under their names, pointed out Kumara. “They earn to eat and drink well. Presently, the nutrition of children is a major concern.”
“I myself am a businessman who handles tenders, and even I transferred Rs. 8,000 last week to only have Rs. 20 in hand today. If there’s a necessity, I cannot afford it – and that is the story of most, if not all of our residents.
“When we asked for financial support, we were told to co-ordinate among ourselves with relatively able residents. But if I do not have money at this point, what about daily-wage earners?
“A tender has been shifted to someone else, as I have not supplied in over a month. At the end of all this, we'll be destitute and helpless. There are politicians who ask how we manage to spend as much as Rs. 5,000 in a week. Do you think they really understand our situation?”
Criminalised by Covid
“We made a verbal appeal to the OIC of the Modara Police, with the bare minimum expectation of consoling our residents with considerate words. Our people are now at a level of frustration to head out to the streets. The message they have understood is that only aggressive protests could get them the due attention from authorities,” explained Kumara.
“As President of the complex, they expect leadership for these demonstrations to come from me, but as responsible figures, we can’t allow people to step out onto the streets against the authorities.
“I’m being called ‘spineless’ as I resist these rallies. At this point, even I see some truth in their way of thinking. We were expecting at least a humane consolation from the Police, or at least the opportunity for our people to individually visit the shops at our own complex, but we were met with threats instead.”
Kumara repetitively stressed that the psychosocial impact is the biggest factor plaguing their community, explaining that they were made prisoners in the situation – although even prisoners have the opportunity to step out of their cells for a due period.
“We are imprisoned in order to protect everyone from corona, but the end result would be the creation of a cluster of individuals with severe mental and psychological problems.”
The criminalisation of Covid-19 patients adds fodder to the fire, according to University of Colombo (UoC) Faculty of Arts Department of Sociology Academic Member Avanka Fernando, who conversed with The Sunday Morning Brunch.
“The sensationalist reporting of Covid-19 in the media was pivotal in this regard, directly labelling people and creating anxiety, rather than focusing on health and safety measures and treatment. The antagonistic scapegoating of certain communities has further reinforced their vulnerability,” noted Fernando.
Fernando, who is conducting her doctoral research on urban communities resettled in high-rise buildings in Colombo city, recalled how the names of specific housing complexes were splashed all over the media. She recalls how one memorable image, of the terrified face of a 13-year-old girl she was acquainted with, was displayed in the media, and noted that the criminalisation of Covid-19 patients strained relationships among communities within such high-rise complexes.
The high-rise lifestyle: A curse?
Ramesh Kumara explained that their houses occupy no more than 450 square feet, debunking the claims of 550 square feet of space per residence, which is only accurate if the corridor area is included. There are 927 houses and 870-880 occupied residences, while some households comprise seven to eight residents, or sometimes even more.
“They are almost in each other’s faces,” related Fernando, drawing from her experience. “The limited space for children to play, or to hang one’s clothes on the balcony, and the sound from neighbouring houses, or the ‘kotanawa’ (pounding) from houses above – all these become causes for conflict in this compact space.
“I have been living in these housing complexes since 2019, as part of my research, and I realise how challenging it is. You’re catapulted into their social gatherings, their extended family, their religious observances, and also their conflicts, including situations of violence. Reflecting on this, I realise that I too underwent change during my stay, having occasional emotional outbursts due to the tension.”
While high-rise buildings are seen as symbols of modernity, rationalisation, and “a solution to the problem of poverty”, they have created a fresh set of challenges, as noted by Fernando.
She further stated that high-rise complexes are identified as a hotbed for Covid-19, and are within the high-risk category due to the sheer population density. However, at certain times, attempts to curtail movement within flats have involved measures such as shutting down some elevators, resulting in the overcrowding of those that remain functional.
Fazila, a resident of Methsanda Sevana, a housewife and mother of three, describes her “flat life”, especially in 2020, as a curse.
“The troubles are never-ending. There is an uncle in our complex who walks to and from a room to his doorstep and back. I asked him if he was measuring the road, and he said it was the only thing left for him to do, to keep his mind off the frustration.”
“There is a hardworking family with a very bright boy doing his Advanced Levels; he had run out of internet cards to join his Zoom classes. Yesterday, my child also had to stop lessons halfway, as the data card was drained, and there was no more internet. The flat is not the only thing under lockdown; education, happiness, childhood – all of these things are also under lockdown,” expressed Fazila.
Kumara defended his fellow residents, claiming that the spread of the virus was far from their doing. “When you mention the name ‘Methsanda Sevana’ anywhere now, they regard us as inhuman and treat us inhumanely. The proposal to confine 900 households with 3,400 residents within just one acre of land was not ours.”
Stereotyping essential service providers
Priya is a very keen prospective Ordinary Level (O/L) student. Her father, who worked at the Peliyagoda Fish Market, was directed to a quarantine centre, and several days later, so was the entire family. Priya used to do her schoolwork late at night, for which her father would give her permission to use his phone.
Due to repeated problems, the father had to pawn his phone – now Priya’s education is severely affected. Repeated shocks, both external and internal, left her marginalised within the education system on multiple levels.
Many structural inequalities are also involved. Despite the pretext of an elevated status through high-rise homes, their lives remain the same.
“It is sad because those who worked at the Peliyagoda Fish Market, although performing essential services, are stereotyped,” expressed Fernando.
“Their lifestyles and the precarious nature of the trades they engage in – not only in terms of Covid-19 – means their lives are based on risk and uncertainty. They are often marginalised from mainstream services. For example, as they do not possess title deeds to a house, they are marginalised from normal banking loans, and opt to borrow from informal moneylenders under exploitative interest rates.”
In an exchange with researcher and activist Iromi Perera, who has been working on the Colombo Urban Regeneration Project since 2013, she expressed that the severity of the situation could not be put into words.
“It's criminal, what's happening right now. Relocating into high-rises, disciplining people, and forcing them to live in a different way, while making them give up care networks, their community, and the ways of life they have been building over time, is in itself tedious,” expressed Perera.
“I understand that the current Covid situation is bad, but you can't keep them under lockdown indefinitely. There has to be proper mass testing and also better support. More than supplies, what they need now is cash. Food is one thing, but people have to buy gas, top-up phones, and pay utility bills. I can't even begin to understand how most of the kids are managing to participate in online schooling.”
Perera noted that the problem in Colombo has always been that the Government, the UDA (Urban Development Authority), and policymakers have neither understood, nor bothered to understand, the city’s working-class poor. “They think upward mobility would come by dictating how to live. They don't know what their needs are; they would assume this sort of blanket lockdown is going to help.”
She noted that despite never having engaged in field action as a researcher, due to the current situation, she is collecting money privately to be distributed among these vulnerable residents.
“Other than private help, there's no systematic way of doing it. The numbers are rather large too: We're looking at about 50,000 families. When you do the math, we need money that we can't raise on our own. At most, we have sent 300-400 food packs and sanitary napkins.
“The communities in concern have never been a burden to the system up until now, as their daily-wage earnings would suffice. The minute you cut that off, they are left totally vulnerable. It’s not like they have money saved up, so their days of resilience are short-lived if they can't go to work,” concluded Perera.
The need for people-centric resettlement moving forward
Noting that this was not an effort to romanticise wattas, the local slums that are often flooded and face numerous hygienic concerns, Fernando also highlighted the need to look at people-centric resettlement methodologies based on participatory methods, and the ample research available on the subject.
“People-centric approaches to urban development have been proposed by many academic researchers and activists, and are available under several resettlement guidelines, such as the National Involuntary Resettlement Policies by the Asian Development Bank (ADB) and World Bank, but have often not been considered in implementation.”
She further stated that high-rise dwellings have manifested problems globally, which should be considered.
“Recreational space is something to look into. The youths of these communities are stereotyped as drug addicts, but there is no alternative for them. Sports facilities and entertainment are restricted. There is containment and control, with very little outlet to express themselves. With all the talk of climate change and sustainability, we are building concrete jungles with little to no greenery.”
Additionally, a multi-pronged approach should be undertaken that concentrates not only on the aspects of Covid-19 and national security. Mental health issues are at their peak, as per the suicide rates owing to the pandemic. There needs to be multidisciplinary teams to address diverse needs during the pandemic. Law enforcement authorities and administrative officers cannot achieve everything, as they too are put under tremendous pressure by the demands of the pandemic.
“There are certain roles that need to be filled, as police officers and grama sevakas can't be expected to do everything,” explained Fernando. “For example, there is a crying need for social workers in these communities who can take up some of these issues. We must also mobilise charity and religious organisations and community-based resources to address this.
“We need to bridge the gap between policy and practice, create a collaborative process with all stakeholders and authorities, and address the needs of the most vulnerable groups in our society more effectively.”
"The communities in concern have never been a burden to the system up until now, as their daily-wage earnings would suffice. The minute you cut that off, they are left totally vulnerable…their days of resilience are short-lived if they can't go to work" Colombo Urban Regeneration Project Researcher Iromi Perera [/caption]
According to Kumara, three leaders per floor of each complex are in charge of the disposal of household garbage and going to the shops for essentials, appointed by the Police.
“We are, however, provided with two relief food packs by the Government, each costing Rs. 5,000 and Rs. 10,000, respectively. They consist of dry rations and essentials such as chickpea, mung beans, cowpea, rice, soya meat, flour, milk powder, and so on. We are grateful to the Government for these packs. We are fully aware that it is beyond the Government’s capacity to consider each and every individual’s best interest, given the current situation, and we do not expect that from them,” expressed Kumara.
Colombo Municipal Council (CMC) Media Secretary Viraj Tharaka, speaking to The Sunday Morning Brunch, shared that the Modara area will continue to be kept under isolation for days to come. When asked if there was talk of any amendments towards relaxing the current lockdown status in the area, he commented that no such plan is in discussion as of yet, due to the foreseeably worsening conditions in the area, in terms of the virus.
The Modara Police Division Officer-in-Charge (OIC) confirmed that only the Sathsiru Sevana and Methsanda Sevana flats in Modara, Colombo North, are currently under isolation. Including Modara, 13 police divisions are in isolation, such as that of Bloemendhal and Kotahena.
Trapped on a sinking ship
Being confined in their homes for 40 days, the residents of Methsanda Sevana and other apartment complexes within the North of Colombo – mostly daily wage earners – have no income.
“There is no method of supplying gas for everyone. They arranged a mechanism for us to access the shops in Block C through the appointed officials, but we no longer have the money to purchase basic goods such as vegetables, fish or meat, medicine, and sanitary products for women at our own shops,” explained Kumara.
Almost none of them have a six-figure saving and own no expensive properties under their names, pointed out Kumara. “They earn to eat and drink well. Presently, the nutrition of children is a major concern.”
“I myself am a businessman who handles tenders, and even I transferred Rs. 8,000 last week to only have Rs. 20 in hand today. If there’s a necessity, I cannot afford it – and that is the story of most, if not all of our residents.
“When we asked for financial support, we were told to co-ordinate among ourselves with relatively able residents. But if I do not have money at this point, what about daily-wage earners?
“A tender has been shifted to someone else, as I have not supplied in over a month. At the end of all this, we'll be destitute and helpless. There are politicians who ask how we manage to spend as much as Rs. 5,000 in a week. Do you think they really understand our situation?”
Criminalised by Covid
“We made a verbal appeal to the OIC of the Modara Police, with the bare minimum expectation of consoling our residents with considerate words. Our people are now at a level of frustration to head out to the streets. The message they have understood is that only aggressive protests could get them the due attention from authorities,” explained Kumara.
“As President of the complex, they expect leadership for these demonstrations to come from me, but as responsible figures, we can’t allow people to step out onto the streets against the authorities.
“I’m being called ‘spineless’ as I resist these rallies. At this point, even I see some truth in their way of thinking. We were expecting at least a humane consolation from the Police, or at least the opportunity for our people to individually visit the shops at our own complex, but we were met with threats instead.”
Kumara repetitively stressed that the psychosocial impact is the biggest factor plaguing their community, explaining that they were made prisoners in the situation – although even prisoners have the opportunity to step out of their cells for a due period.
“We are imprisoned in order to protect everyone from corona, but the end result would be the creation of a cluster of individuals with severe mental and psychological problems.”
The criminalisation of Covid-19 patients adds fodder to the fire, according to University of Colombo (UoC) Faculty of Arts Department of Sociology Academic Member Avanka Fernando, who conversed with The Sunday Morning Brunch.
“The sensationalist reporting of Covid-19 in the media was pivotal in this regard, directly labelling people and creating anxiety, rather than focusing on health and safety measures and treatment. The antagonistic scapegoating of certain communities has further reinforced their vulnerability,” noted Fernando.
Fernando, who is conducting her doctoral research on urban communities resettled in high-rise buildings in Colombo city, recalled how the names of specific housing complexes were splashed all over the media. She recalls how one memorable image, of the terrified face of a 13-year-old girl she was acquainted with, was displayed in the media, and noted that the criminalisation of Covid-19 patients strained relationships among communities within such high-rise complexes.
The high-rise lifestyle: A curse?
Ramesh Kumara explained that their houses occupy no more than 450 square feet, debunking the claims of 550 square feet of space per residence, which is only accurate if the corridor area is included. There are 927 houses and 870-880 occupied residences, while some households comprise seven to eight residents, or sometimes even more.
“They are almost in each other’s faces,” related Fernando, drawing from her experience. “The limited space for children to play, or to hang one’s clothes on the balcony, and the sound from neighbouring houses, or the ‘kotanawa’ (pounding) from houses above – all these become causes for conflict in this compact space.
“I have been living in these housing complexes since 2019, as part of my research, and I realise how challenging it is. You’re catapulted into their social gatherings, their extended family, their religious observances, and also their conflicts, including situations of violence. Reflecting on this, I realise that I too underwent change during my stay, having occasional emotional outbursts due to the tension.”
While high-rise buildings are seen as symbols of modernity, rationalisation, and “a solution to the problem of poverty”, they have created a fresh set of challenges, as noted by Fernando.
She further stated that high-rise complexes are identified as a hotbed for Covid-19, and are within the high-risk category due to the sheer population density. However, at certain times, attempts to curtail movement within flats have involved measures such as shutting down some elevators, resulting in the overcrowding of those that remain functional.
Fazila, a resident of Methsanda Sevana, a housewife and mother of three, describes her “flat life”, especially in 2020, as a curse.
“The troubles are never-ending. There is an uncle in our complex who walks to and from a room to his doorstep and back. I asked him if he was measuring the road, and he said it was the only thing left for him to do, to keep his mind off the frustration.”
“There is a hardworking family with a very bright boy doing his Advanced Levels; he had run out of internet cards to join his Zoom classes. Yesterday, my child also had to stop lessons halfway, as the data card was drained, and there was no more internet. The flat is not the only thing under lockdown; education, happiness, childhood – all of these things are also under lockdown,” expressed Fazila.
Kumara defended his fellow residents, claiming that the spread of the virus was far from their doing. “When you mention the name ‘Methsanda Sevana’ anywhere now, they regard us as inhuman and treat us inhumanely. The proposal to confine 900 households with 3,400 residents within just one acre of land was not ours.”
Stereotyping essential service providers
Priya is a very keen prospective Ordinary Level (O/L) student. Her father, who worked at the Peliyagoda Fish Market, was directed to a quarantine centre, and several days later, so was the entire family. Priya used to do her schoolwork late at night, for which her father would give her permission to use his phone.
Due to repeated problems, the father had to pawn his phone – now Priya’s education is severely affected. Repeated shocks, both external and internal, left her marginalised within the education system on multiple levels.
Many structural inequalities are also involved. Despite the pretext of an elevated status through high-rise homes, their lives remain the same.
“It is sad because those who worked at the Peliyagoda Fish Market, although performing essential services, are stereotyped,” expressed Fernando.
“Their lifestyles and the precarious nature of the trades they engage in – not only in terms of Covid-19 – means their lives are based on risk and uncertainty. They are often marginalised from mainstream services. For example, as they do not possess title deeds to a house, they are marginalised from normal banking loans, and opt to borrow from informal moneylenders under exploitative interest rates.”
In an exchange with researcher and activist Iromi Perera, who has been working on the Colombo Urban Regeneration Project since 2013, she expressed that the severity of the situation could not be put into words.
“It's criminal, what's happening right now. Relocating into high-rises, disciplining people, and forcing them to live in a different way, while making them give up care networks, their community, and the ways of life they have been building over time, is in itself tedious,” expressed Perera.
“I understand that the current Covid situation is bad, but you can't keep them under lockdown indefinitely. There has to be proper mass testing and also better support. More than supplies, what they need now is cash. Food is one thing, but people have to buy gas, top-up phones, and pay utility bills. I can't even begin to understand how most of the kids are managing to participate in online schooling.”
Perera noted that the problem in Colombo has always been that the Government, the UDA (Urban Development Authority), and policymakers have neither understood, nor bothered to understand, the city’s working-class poor. “They think upward mobility would come by dictating how to live. They don't know what their needs are; they would assume this sort of blanket lockdown is going to help.”
She noted that despite never having engaged in field action as a researcher, due to the current situation, she is collecting money privately to be distributed among these vulnerable residents.
“Other than private help, there's no systematic way of doing it. The numbers are rather large too: We're looking at about 50,000 families. When you do the math, we need money that we can't raise on our own. At most, we have sent 300-400 food packs and sanitary napkins.
“The communities in concern have never been a burden to the system up until now, as their daily-wage earnings would suffice. The minute you cut that off, they are left totally vulnerable. It’s not like they have money saved up, so their days of resilience are short-lived if they can't go to work,” concluded Perera.
The need for people-centric resettlement moving forward
Noting that this was not an effort to romanticise wattas, the local slums that are often flooded and face numerous hygienic concerns, Fernando also highlighted the need to look at people-centric resettlement methodologies based on participatory methods, and the ample research available on the subject.
“People-centric approaches to urban development have been proposed by many academic researchers and activists, and are available under several resettlement guidelines, such as the National Involuntary Resettlement Policies by the Asian Development Bank (ADB) and World Bank, but have often not been considered in implementation.”
She further stated that high-rise dwellings have manifested problems globally, which should be considered.
“Recreational space is something to look into. The youths of these communities are stereotyped as drug addicts, but there is no alternative for them. Sports facilities and entertainment are restricted. There is containment and control, with very little outlet to express themselves. With all the talk of climate change and sustainability, we are building concrete jungles with little to no greenery.”
Additionally, a multi-pronged approach should be undertaken that concentrates not only on the aspects of Covid-19 and national security. Mental health issues are at their peak, as per the suicide rates owing to the pandemic. There needs to be multidisciplinary teams to address diverse needs during the pandemic. Law enforcement authorities and administrative officers cannot achieve everything, as they too are put under tremendous pressure by the demands of the pandemic.
“There are certain roles that need to be filled, as police officers and grama sevakas can't be expected to do everything,” explained Fernando. “For example, there is a crying need for social workers in these communities who can take up some of these issues. We must also mobilise charity and religious organisations and community-based resources to address this.
“We need to bridge the gap between policy and practice, create a collaborative process with all stakeholders and authorities, and address the needs of the most vulnerable groups in our society more effectively.”