Reaping dividends of peace in the East

The precursor to business in the North

Encouraging tales of entrepreneurship are being reaped and stitched in the east

By Uditha Jayasinghe

A few of the cattle that survived the war at the CIC farm

Bullet holes always tell a story. Peppered along the wall of P. Thiruchelvam’s home are bullet holes that tell a horrific tale. On Friday August 4, 1990, LTTE terrorists opened fire and killed 103 Muslims and injured 70 others, while they were praying at the Meera Jumma Mosque in Kattankudy. The retaliatory attacks carried out one bleak night, killed five of Thiruchelvam’s siblings. His father was abducted by an unknown party, strongly suspected to be the LTTE, and no word has been heard of him ever since. To this day just as one can see the bullet holes in Kattankudy mosque, so can one see the same symbol of human degradation in Thiruchelvam’s home.

Despite being only left with one sibling and one parent, Thiruchelvam had the courage to rebuild his life. He grew up and learned to keep cattle as a way to feed his family, which by this time had grown to include a wife and children. Then came the release of the LTTE from the Eastern Province and subsequently the end of the war. Now sitting in his half-built house, he looks to a brighter future provided for by the strength of his hands and the sweat of his brow. What does he have in common with M.S Saburdeen?
The Rideethanne village is the last Muslim village to be settled under the Mahaweli B programme. In 1985 there were communal riots which resulted in Saburdeen relocating his family to Rideethanne in December of 1989. Currently its population is around 337, and being one of the “border villages” that divided eastern Batticaloa from the North Central Province, Saburdeen describes how the LTTE used to move through their villages frequently. “We lived in constant fear. There were many days when we hid out in the jungle. It was the same scenario in the nearby Sinhala villages too. It made no difference. Everyone was terrified,” he recalls adding that for them the only focus was survival.
When the LTTE was effectively driven out of the East over two years ago, normalcy did not arrive overnight. Private enterprise was one of the many casualties of the conflict, the east that had earlier boasted of a strong dairy industry had seen it decimated over 25 years of war. Everything had to be re-built from scratch. Even though the people had unwavering determination, they could not do it alone. Moreover, the entire process took time and desperately needed fresh investment. It was at this juncture that CIC stepped in by establishing two farms in Punani.
“Earlier these people literally used to regard their cattle as a bank on legs. They were simply allowed to roam free, and when someone in the family fell ill or there was some other expense, one of the animals or sometimes even the entire herd was sold to get cash. There was little or no knowledge on how to treat them for diseases or what kind of food to give them, or how to elongate their milk giving terms. The industry had descended to complete dereliction,” said CIC Assistant General Manager (Dairy) Chandana Jayaratne.

Training centre at Brandix, Punani

The milk of human kindness
November saw CIC demarcating two farms in the extensive scrubland in Punani; Siddhapura farm (2800 acres) for goats and cattle and Muthuwella (1200 acres) for buffalo. Their aim is to eventually increase milk production to around
25,000 litres a day within the next four years, and introduce a host of value added products ranging from curd to fruit farming. However Jayaratne warns that the going will be slow, as it takes at least a decade to breed good dairy stock, especially since a perfect combination of the animal takes at least three generations to formulate. Mother Nature takes her own time about these things, but human ingenuity can speed up the process, as Jayaratne explained by getting the many dairy farmers in the area to develop their herds with a helping hand from CIC of course. To this end CIC has imported three bulls including an imposing Friesian who are reputed worldwide for their high milk yields. Farmers are encouraged to cross breed their cows with these stud bulls to re-produce better stock.
“The dairy industry had its heyday in the east from the 1940’s onwards till the start of the war. However when the war hit, it crippled not just the people but the animals as well. When we took over this area, the mortality rate of the cattle was very high. During the war people were too afraid to even roundup their cows properly, and many were just left to wander about. There was no scientific structure at all. Recently we started a vet clinic and took a selection of farmers from these villages to see how a proper dairy should be run. They were fascinated.”
At present CIC has 300 farmers supplying them and collect about 1,000 litres a day. The ultimate goal is to increase this to 4,000 farmers with a sizable stock of cattle who will give around 15 litres a day. To this end the company has earmarked investments of Rs.600 million during the next five years, and has already infused around Rs.250 million. Indeed Saburdeeen echoed the gratitude of many farmers. He pointed out that identifying diseases or even finding proper grassland for the cattle to feed on was a challenge. Since most of the fertile areas are crisscrossed with diagrams of paddy, the cows often stray into fields for a snack or accidentally break the bunds of the canals that irrigate the fields. This causes much ire between the paddy and cattle farmers. These rifts within the community would be significantly reduced if grazing land is allocated by the Mahaweli Authority to the cattle farmers. Yet despite many appeals steps are yet to be taken.

M.S. Saburdeen

Free from a day of debt
Infrastructure development is necessary for long term sustainability of this project. CIC is optimistic of the tourism potential of the Eastern Province and is already preparing for the boom. They hope that once businesses and people start moving into Trincomalee and Batticaloa, they can build a supply chain within the east and tap directly into a market thanks to their close proximity. USAID is currently partnering with CIC to bring together farmers from different communities to link with the programme, and since the company too is very keen on promoting communal harmony it has been a perfect match.
J.A Premasiri is a cattle farmer with around 14 cows. For him the greatest release that CIC has given is a chance to live without debt. “Earlier once the rice harvest is in, we would sell it at nominal prices to a private trader because government officials arrived about a month later. If we kept the harvest that long, our debtors would come and harass us. To save ourselves from this we used to just repay them the moment we had money in our hands. Afterwards we had to go hat in hand for another loan to make it through the next season. However now we can depend on our income from the cattle. If we can have a steady income that is independent of loan-mongers, then we have the chance to have a better life and even save,” he explained.
With no community level organisation to lobby for them, the farmers in Punani were at the mercy of insensitive policy makers and politicians. Now they have a voice, at least one that will be heard partially. CIC plans to educate farmers in three stages. They have already made them realise that fewer cows mean more productivity, feeding techniques such as straw has already been introduced and the third stage will address entrepreneurship. This recipe will be all the more result-reaping if the government distinguishes between paddy and cattle farmers, and gives due consideration to the special needs of each industry rather than lumping them together in one category.
Building bonds
“I stopped going to school after my Ordinary Levels. There was nothing near our village, so I started working at a garment factory in Polonnaruwa. But there were many problems because of the distance and lack of training. Finally after six months I left because it was just too problematic. I never expected to stay at home for long, but it was four years later that I found this job,” said Thanuja Lakmali, a 24 year old mother.
What makes her story so exceptional is that Thanuja is one of 600 women who has lived in the midst of war most of her life, but is now slowly re-focussing her future in a brighter light. Having lived in a Sinhala village that bordered the Eastern and North Central Province, long years were spent fighting to get away from the bullets and grinding poverty that seemed her birthright. Denied of education, training and opportunity, she seemed doomed to languish in unrealised potential forever.
If misery loves company, then Thanuja had plenty of that. The Tamil and Muslim villages that sit adjacent to her village in the outskirts of Punani in eastern Batticaloa, are filled with similar stories. Poverty knows no boundaries to race, religion, language or political sympathies. It was an ironic bond that connected Thanuja with Krishnani, 26 who is the sole breadwinner in a family of eight. Her father farms and keeps a few goats and cattle. The extent of their wealth could be measured by a ramshackle house and a few acres of shrub land. Sinhala and Tamil had found a common ground, but few believed that this was to be the beginning of a success story.
When Brandix came to the east in the latter part of 2008, they found a barren land steeped in potential. These were the times when camps for the Internally Displaced People (IDP) sprinkled the road right up to Batticaloa, and wrapped the town breathing desolation. Thousands of people had lost their homes, and had virtually nothing to return to. Labour was cheap and readily available, but the deep ethnic divide cautioned many companies into a stumbling halt. How were they to function as a bridge? Would they be making things worse by getting involved? How could they manage the risk? Was it worth the hard work and investment that was evidently needed? Almost a year down the line Brandix had answered in a resounding “yes”.
The plan was simple as it was effective. Brandix partnered with aid agent USAID to integrate all three communities into a positive force for development. The Brandix staff scoured villages and even IDP camps spreading the word and the response was rapid. Women in their twenties flocked to the temporary “office” that was hastily refurbished from a bullet ridden school building. Very soon the recruits were to see a similar transformation.
Interestingly, despite the close proximity of different people from all three communities living side by side for decades, they had little interaction with each other. “Every village has its own school and market. So we don’t really have the chance to meet with Tamil and Muslim people, even though they are separated only by a few kilometers. When we started working together, we were divided up into teams, and everything had to be done as a team. It didn’t matter that we couldn’t talk each others’ language, we still managed to communicate, because the team was more important that individuals,” reminisced Thanuja.
Unique
This unique Brandix strategy was carefully formulated to ensure that different communities would understand how much they have in common, rather than surface differences. For Thanuja it was the chance to meet and become friends with people who had shared the same hardships and challenges as her, who were reaching out for a better future and the opportunity of learning a trade. The training course provided by Brandix, has the dual purpose of equipping workers for there company in eastern Batticaloa, as well as providing them with a certified qualification that would be useful, should they desire to apply for any other factory in another part of the country. Given that Brandix was well recognised for their excellence in training, this gave the participants the chance to think of a wider career path. The training was facilitated by a US$ 100,000 grant from USAID, which was supplemented by Brandix who thoughtfully provided even meals. “We had to play team sports and even form a queue when we were having our meals. Everything was done together, and if any of us stepped out of line it would adversely impact the entire team.
So we were very careful to be diligent,” says Thanuja echoing the sentiment that they would use this chance to convert the Punani factory to eventually become the best in the country.
Among these women are former combatants who took up a gun simply because they had no other options. Now those same talents are being used for a more constructive end. Despite interest in interviewing one of these former combatants, the idea was strongly discouraged by the management who rightly felt that bygones should be allowed to rest in peace. “We don’t want any of the employees to feel that they are being singled out in any way. They are here as equals, no matter what their backgrounds. That is a policy we are very keen to maintain. Whatever problems that arise, must be resolved through discussion,” said plant Manager Thushara Jayawardene, adding that they promote reconciliation among the trainees more for personal reasons than business ones.
Newly whitewashed buildings hemmed in by neat hedges greet the entrants, and it is easy to see the enthusiasm and hope that has sprung out of this parched land. The unique management strategies that have been used by a staff well versed in empathy and ably supported by the people has had palpable results. But the path is still far from smooth.
“Recently we had a shooting that killed several people just up the road. Regular transport for the workers used to be a problem, but a new CTB bus has solved the issue to some extent. The uncertainty cannot be dispelled overnight, and it will take several years of careful policy implementation at both private and public level to ensure sustainable security,” admitted one of the overseers, pointing out a row of rooms that were being constructed to house the management, who are mostly from Colombo, in case of an emergency. The safety measures were being built in the background of rows of machines happily whirring away, and just across the small courtyard stood the training rooms. It was clear that whatever their security misgivings Brandix are here to stay.
Blessing
From a social perspective the arrival of private investors is a blessing for women in particular. As one village woman described to us, the pincer problem of no opportunities coupled with the terrorist threat, resulted in many women getting married at an early age and having children, regardless of being unable to adequately support them.
“These are the fringe villages of the Mahaweli project. When we were resettled here from other parts of the country, we came carrying great expectations in addition to our furniture. We were confident that we could make our lives prosperous. But with the beginning of the war we realised otherwise. Many families left and the others simply focussed on survival. I have worked as a volunteer health worker for many years and sadly witnessed the gradual degradation of our daughters. Because they could not complete their education, and there were no job opportunities in this region, the only avenue open for them was to get married.
The Mahaweli Authority is obligated by law to give an acre to each married couple. So most families marry off their daughters at a very young age, some as early as 13. Then they present the marriage certificate and get their allocation of land,” explained Sumana Gamage.
The cost for this meager ration of land is high. Most of the girls have two or more children by the time they are 18, and return to their parent’s homes sans their husbands. Understandably this gives birth to a host of more complex problems including the fate of innocent children, in perhaps a dysfunctional family system without proper care and security. If they are daughters then the process becomes a vicious cycle. On the other hand marrying off young girls was also a tested deterrent to recruitment by the LTTE, and it is evident that this was enthusiastically practiced for both economical as well as political reasons. Caught in a hapless situation the villages made the best possible compromise.
The arrival of companies such as Brandix is all the more significant, when viewed through this prism. They have not just been given the chance to stand on their own, they have realised that they have the strength to make a difference and direct their lives as they choose. For Thanuja and Krishnani this is more than just the chance to make money: it is an opportunity of a lifetime.