• SL women and the silent crisis in their homes

Sri Lankan women have long been celebrated for their resilience, compassion, and unwavering ability to hold families together, even in the worst of circumstances. Yet, behind this quiet strength lies a deep and largely unspoken crisis — one that affects millions of midlife and older women who shoulder the combined weight of care-giving, household responsibilities, emotional labour, and professional pressure. This crisis came sharply into focus during the recent devastation caused by cyclone Ditwah, when severe floods, displacement, and infrastructural breakdown exposed not only the fragility of our communities but also the invisible burden borne by women in every home.

For women in their 40s, 50s, and 60s, life in Sri Lanka has increasingly become a delicate balancing act. Many belong to the sandwich generation, responsible for ageing parents on one side and young or struggling adult children on the other. Sri Lanka’s demographic shift means that this pressure is only intensifying: by 2040, nearly a quarter of the population will be over 60, placing the bulk of elder-care firmly in households. Feeding, bathing, transporting to clinics, managing medications, coordinating care-giving arrangements, and providing emotional support fall overwhelmingly on daughters and daughters-in-law, even when these women have full-time professional roles of their own. The exhaustion that results is rarely acknowledged, because society has normalised female care-giving as an unquestioned duty.

At the same time, midlife mothers continue to guide children through competitive examinations, relationship struggles, and economic uncertainty. Young adults increasingly depend on parental support longer than previous generations due to job scarcity and high stress. For many mothers, this means absorbing their children’s anxieties while managing their own complex midlife transitions. Added to this, perimenopause and menopause — natural yet poorly understood phases — introduce a host of symptoms including fatigue, insomnia, palpitations, mood shifts, poor concentration, joint pains, and weight changes. Without structured menopause clinics or well-defined midlife health programmes in Sri Lanka, many women endure this stage silently, often attributing their symptoms to stress or overwork. By the time they seek medical attention, many already have established chronic illnesses such as hypertension, diabetes, hyperlipidaemia, osteoporosis, or depression.

The recent flooding caused by Ditwah magnified all of these pressures. As waters rose and homes submerged, it was women who immediately swung into action — gathering children, protecting elderly parents, securing documents, preparing emergency food, packing medicines, and ensuring the safety of neighbours. When families fled to higher ground, women continued to care for infants, support anxious elders, organise shared spaces in evacuation centres, and manage the emotional turmoil around them. Once the floodwater receded, the real work began: hours spent cleaning mud-clogged floors, washing drenched clothes, drying soaked bedding, disinfecting contaminated furniture, sorting salvageable items, and restoring order in homes that had been turned upside down.

Floods also bring water-borne illnesses, and this season was no exception. Contaminated water sources and poor sanitation triggered spikes in gastroenteritis, causing vomiting, diarrhoea, dehydration, and severe fatigue. Women were disproportionately affected — not only because they too became ill, but because they continued to care for sick family members despite their own symptoms. Many cleaned homes while feverish or experiencing diarrhoea, risking weakness, dehydration, and collapse. The physical strain of these tasks, combined with disrupted sleep and heightened anxiety, placed a heavy toll on midlife women already navigating hormonal and emotional change.

Amid these hardships, economic vulnerability also grew. Many women, especially those managing home-based income streams such as cooking, tailoring, day-care services, or room rentals, lost their earnings overnight. Rebuilding requires time, money, and emotional strength — all of which are often stretched thin in midlife. Yet, despite the magnitude of their roles, women’s labour remains largely invisible. They are the first to wake, the last to rest, and the ones who carry households through normal days and natural disasters alike.

It is here that a profound truth must be spoken with tenderness and clarity:

Support from the men in our families and communities is cherished, yet, we must not forget the gentler force that keeps the rhythm of daily life intact. Behind every child who learns and every man who earns, stands a woman whose work is unpaid, unrecorded, and often unseen. She labours without leave, applause, and pause — stitching together the quiet fabric of the home so that others may step forward with strength. This silent devotion is not weakness but a profound form of courage, and it deserves not only recognition, but deep respect and gratitude.

As we recognise these silent burdens, it is equally important to remind women that caring for others begins with caring for themselves. Older and midlife women can protect their health by prioritising regular screenings for blood pressure, diabetes, cholesterol, thyroid function, breast health and bone density, which help detect disease before it causes harm. Good nutrition — rich in fruits, vegetables, adequate protein, whole grains, and calcium — supports strength and energy, while proper hydration is essential especially in the periods during and after flooding or illness. Staying physically active through walking, stretching, yoga, or simple home exercises helps maintain mobility, balance and a healthy weight. Medication compliance is also crucial, particularly for chronic illnesses that silently worsen when tablets are missed. Equally vital is emotional well-being: nurturing friendships, engaging in hobbies, allowing time for rest, seeking help for anxiety or low mood, and learning to say ‘no’ when overwhelmed. Looking after their bodies and minds is not self-indulgence — it is the foundation that enables women to continue giving strength to the families that they hold together.

These words are not about blame. They are a gentle reminder that women’s unpaid care work is a critical, stabilising force in the Sri Lankan society. Without the daily labour of women, households would collapse: meals would not appear on time, elderly parents would go unmanaged, schoolchildren would falter, and even professional men would struggle to function. The entire economic engine of the country rests quietly on this invisible foundation.

Sri Lanka now has a critical opportunity to reshape how it supports midlife women. Preventive health must be strengthened, community elder-care expanded, menopause care structured, and disaster planning made more gender-responsive. Above all, society must learn to honour women’s labour with sincere appreciation — not as a favour, but as fair acknowledgement.

Ditwah revealed the fragility of our environment, but, it also revealed something beautiful: women standing strong, waist-deep in floodwater, holding families together with determination, tenderness, and strength. It is time that we recognise their quiet heroism. When women are supported, respected, and empowered, families flourish, communities heal, and the nation grows stronger. The silent crisis of Sri Lankan women must no longer remain silent.

The writer is a Consultant Physician and Specialist in Internal Medicine, and the former Vice President of the Sri Lanka Medical Association 2023, and the Editor of the Sri Lanka Association of Geriatric Medicine

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The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect those of this publication