The sun rises over the Jaffna Peninsula, painting the sky in soft pinks and golds. Out at sea, scattered dots of land break the horizon as Delft (Neduntheevu), Nainathivu (Nagadeepa), Analaithivu, Eluvathivu, Punkuduthivu, Karainagar, Paraithivu, Kachchathivu, and Kayts.
For too many Sri Lankans, these islands are idyllic images of untouched nature with wild horses grazing on Delft’s dusty plains, the ancient Nainathivu Nagapooshani Amman and Nagadeepa Temples standing proudly on Nainathivu, and fishing boats resting on turquoise waters. But, to the people who call these islands home, life is far more complex. Beyond the postcard beauty lies a story of resilience, neglect, and daily struggle, a story too often invisible to the mainland.
Three of the islands – Punkuduthivu, Karainagar, and Kayts – are connected to the Jaffna Peninsula by causeways, providing a semblance of continuity with the mainland. For the others, the sea serves as both a lifeline and barrier. Kachchathivu opens only once a year during the Saint Anthony’s Church festival, attracting thousands of pilgrims who traverse the water to honour centuries-old religious traditions. Paraithivu, in contrast, is primarily used for tourism and fisheries, seeing a fluctuating population dependent on seasonal activities. Delft, Nainathivu, Analaithivu, and Eluvathivu are permanently inhabited, and residents must rely on fragile boat services. From the Kurikattuwan Jetty, wooden and fibre boats carry passengers to Delft and Nainathivu, weather permitting. Analaithivu and Eluvathivu are connected via a jetty called Karamppan, Kayts.
During monsoon rains or high winds, boat services are often suspended without warning. “If a storm blows up, even a visit can be impossible,” said fisherman Ganeshalingam (67), who expressed his concern. “We wait, and worry.” These disruptions affect every aspect of island life. Schoolchildren miss classes, fishermen lose valuable workdays, and families postpone urgent medical care. The very sea that has sustained these communities for generations can, at times, become a source of anxiety and danger.
The islands’ populations vary widely. Delft Island is home to approximately 4,063 residents in 1,398 families. Islands North have 10,943 residents in 3,455 families, while Islands South have 16,993 people in 5,450 families, according to the statistical handbook released by the Jaffna District Secretariat, 2023. Eluvathivu, smaller in size, recorded 675 residents in 190 families while Analaithivu has 1,848 residents in 546 families, according to the above mentioned statistical handbook. Over the years, migration to the mainland, mainly due to the civil war and in later decades due to education and employment, has caused a gradual population decline (1,971-2012 census) in several islands, leaving behind an ageing community and shrinking workforce. “Our children grow up here, but they leave as soon as they can,” said Delft school teacher Annalakshmi. “We can’t blame them, they want a future.” The demographic shift has social consequences as well. With younger generations leaving, there is a growing gap in labour, innovation, and the continuity of traditional skills. At the same time, elders struggle to maintain community cohesion and pass down cultural practices.
Healthcare remains one of the islands’ most pressing challenges. A medical officer who is working at a base hospital said that only one visiting physician serves the entire network of Northern Islands, a workload that is both exhausting and inadequate. Many divisional hospitals lack nursing officers, leaving lone doctors to manage emergencies, routine illnesses, and follow-up care without support. No new cadre positions have been created to alleviate these pressures. The main referral facility, the Base Hospital, Kayts (BH Kayts), is critically under-equipped. It has no operating theatre, surgeon, and obstetrician or gynecologist. Even routine surgeries or complicated childbirths must be referred to the Jaffna Teaching Hospital on the mainland. Most pregnant women are advised to transfer to BH Kayts after 37 weeks, often travelling by regular passenger boats, exposing them to risk during rough sea conditions. Ambulance services are limited, and in emergencies, families must first cross the sea by boat, sometimes at night, before receiving overland transport to the mainland. Delays of even a few hours can mean the difference between life and death. Drug shortages further exacerbate the situation. No pharmacies on the islands carry essential medicines, forcing families to travel to the mainland for vital supplies such as insulin, antibiotics, or even painkillers. “We have to go to Jaffna even for simple medicines,” said a fisherman’s wife in Delft, Selvarasa. “Sometimes, we go without because the sea is too rough or the ferry is cancelled.”
Fishing has traditionally been the backbone of island economies. But, kerosene and fuel shortages, coupled with fluctuating prices, have made livelihoods precarious. Small-scale agriculture and livestock rearing supplement income, but poor soil quality and water scarcity limit productivity. Among self-employment, palmyrah handicrafts, cottage industries like food preparation, beverage and candle production, goat rearing, cattle and poultry farming are famous among the islanders. Seasonal tourism, such as pilgrimages to Nainathivu or visits to Delft’s wild horses, provides limited income opportunities, but weak infrastructure and unreliable transport hamper consistent growth. Economic hardship has also contributed to social challenges. Domestic violence, substance abuse, and high unemployment among youth are increasingly visible. Families often struggle to meet basic needs, creating a cycle of stress and instability. Statistical data (2023) shows a significant increase in unemployment in the age group 16 to 55.
Freshwater scarcity is a daily concern. Wells are often brackish, and ponds depend on seasonal rainfall. Rainwater tanks provide some relief, but prolonged dry periods leave residents with dangerously low supplies. Electricity is intermittent, with diesel generators supplementing the grid during outages. Mobile signals are weak, and internet connectivity is unreliable, isolating the islands both physically and digitally. Schools exist on most inhabited islands, but they often lack qualified teachers, laboratories, and modern materials. Students aspiring to higher education must leave for Jaffna, and many do not return, accelerating depopulation. “I teach science without a proper lab,” said a teacher from Analaithivu. “I tell my students to imagine the experiments. That is not fair to them.” Educational outcomes reflect these challenges. Many students drop out before completing the General Certificate of Education Ordinary or Advanced Level studies, and early marriage remains common in some communities. The absence of educational infrastructure limits social mobility and long-term development. Islanders express both frustration and cautious hope. “People have faith in every Government when they vote. But, whether they keep their promises, only god knows,” laments an elder in Kayts.
Coastal erosion, the sea-level rise, and unpredictable storms threaten the islands’ future. Weak infrastructure, minimal evacuation planning, and scarce emergency resources leave communities highly vulnerable. When jetties are damaged or roads flooded, entire islands can become inaccessible, complicating relief efforts and medical evacuations. Residents and local leaders advocate for tangible improvements: reliable, safe boat services and well-maintained jetties; upgraded causeway roads to ensure year-round connectivity; the recruitment of nursing officers, surgeons, and obstetricians for BH Kayts and divisional hospitals; the establishment of an operating theatre at BH Kayts; regularly stocked pharmacies; improved water security through rainwater harvesting and storage; stronger electricity and telecom networks; and support for fishing, sustainable tourism, and education for youth. These are not extravagant demands and they are basic services already available on the mainland.
Despite these hardships, the islanders remain deeply rooted in their homeland. They celebrate festivals, cast their nets at dawn, and teach their children under modest roofs. The sea, despite its dangers, continues to sustain livelihoods and shape cultural identity. “This is our home. We don’t want to leave. We just want the same chances to live and work as anyone else on the mainland,” said Malar Amma from Nainathivu.
The Northern Islands of Sri Lanka are more than distant dots on a map; they are vibrant communities whose voices deserve recognition. Their struggles underscore the urgent need for equitable development, while their resilience offers a lesson in perseverance, culture, and identity.
(Dr. Basnayake is a Temporary Demonstrator at the Medical Faculty, Jaffna University. Thirunavukarasu is a journalist)
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The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect those of this publication