June 28, 2017

A High-Energy Sri Lankan-Rwandan Play Interspersed with History and Conflict

Written in January 2016

and published here:


After three successful days in Colombo, Ruwanthie and team headed out to India – to perform in Kashmir, New Delhi and Trivandrum. The play, a Sri Lanka- Rwanda collaboration became an instant favourite among the art loving people in Trivandrum when it was presented on the second day of the festival.


The most outstanding feature of the play was its international nature. The play is a dramatic presentation of memories of thirty elders interviewed both in Sri Lanka and Rwanda, and their interpretation of incidents, conflicts and way of life. Presented in three parts, it is a collection of personal journeys and, hence, a subjective elucidation of memoirs of a generation.

The dramatist was able to juxtapose the history of two countries from two different continents, Asia and Africa through the memories of a generation born in the 1930s. This is different from how we have known history, which is usually through the eyes of a historian. The audience is able to take a journey back through several decades as the play unfolds; a journey that displays the richness of a generation; their pain, their regrets about what they did and did not do right; their innocence and simplicity that prevailed in a society that valued extended families and the related customs. By subtly portraying the nuances of seven decades, the play poignantly tries to connect with the new generation to convey a very strong message; that is to avoid the mistakes of an older generation. This is the most important lesson one takes away from this play; a reminder not to repeat history. It is also a reminder to preserve what has been fought for and won, and not to re-ignite parochialism.


Rwanda and Sri Lanka strike a similar chord in recollecting memories of a bloodied past. The elders who were interviewed in two different times and space convey similar pain and loss. The play powerfully portrays how the colonial rulers sowed the seeds of ethnic division among innocent Rwandans in the 1930s by their divide and rule policy. Although the world silently watched the bloodied genocide in Rwanda in the 1990s, it is still debated and researched on, in most post-conflict situations. Needless to say, the audience watched the manipulations of the ‘white man’ with awe, as it struck a chord with their own colonial past.


The play’s subtle humour and symbolism enthralled the satire-loving Keralites. When Lankan independence was referred to as a ‘gift’ in comparison to the prolonged independence struggle that India went through, the applause became deafening. So, it was when the play employed humour in portraying how, a ‘Sinhala only’ language policy excluded the Tamils over time and denied Tamil equal status as an official language. By symbolically placing a bus with drivers who chanted the Sinhala only mantra, the play highlighted one of the most sensitive issues in Sri Lanka’s protracted conflict; how language divided two ethnic communities. One of the quotes by the elders alluded to the fact, how post-independent Sri Lanka could not continue what the British united, in terms of ethnic harmony.

The two youth insurrections in Sri Lanka were witnessed by the audience with utmost silence. The violent portrayal of the disillusionment of a young generation would resonate with any audience, especially Keralites. The burning issue of unemployment is not new to Keralites, where left wing student movements had always been strong although Kerala has not had bloody insurrections like its island neighbour.


The second part of the play that dealt with how the generation in the 1930s viewed love, marriage and sex was greeted with loud applause and hearty laughter. Marriage happened between two families – the parents decided and the young followed. Privacy was unheard of; but the institution never wavered due to the support of families involved and society. Dowry was common; but it never was a social evil.

The third part essentially summed up the bloodbath both countries witnessed; how gradually, but surely, a generation and the society it represented lost their human touch. Violent scenes of truth and haunted memories dominated this concluding section – a rare visual treat.

Ruwanthi, whose writing has always remained socially significant, has once again displayed her acumen. As the saying in Sanskrit goes, Nadakantham Kavithwam, the craft of a dramatist is revealed at the end of a play. ‘Dear Children, Sincerely’, was testimony to this.

A play comes alive through its actors and the ensemble. The unique international nature of actors made all the difference in the play. Art has no barriers; no language; only a common thread of artistry and the ability to evoke emotions. This was well spelt out in this play, loud and clear. The actors conquered the stage and the audience by flaunting the flexibility of their bodies and their measured, energetic movements. They became symbols of history, of a generation, whose value is often forgotten; whose memories are not well documented or archived. This play, now adapted in seven other countries, has attempted to fill this gap, which is to be applauded. The mise-en-scene well fitted the mood and message of the play.

During the question and answer session a few questions became relevant – why the good developments during the seven decades didn’t find a place in the play? Why does Sri Lanka, being a Buddhist country witness so much of bloodshed and violence? “Memories are subjective, we remember what we choose to; and these are recollections of the elders interviewed; this is their memory and hence very subjective” answered Ruwanthie in response to the first question. One of her team members tried to address the second question; “Buddhism is not understood in its true spirit by its followers, and that probably justifies.” As a member of the audience, I could feel this was discussed by people, leaving the theatre, still relishing the outstanding performance of the evening.

My experience and feelings were unique that evening. Born and bred in Trivandrum, after living almost two decades in Colombo, witnessing massive socio-political changes and working in related fields, it was a rare opportunity to watch the dramatic representation of the history of a country, of which I have intrinsically become a part.  

-Anila S.K.


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