Punish them!

The brilliant white, statuesque Old Town Hall building in Colombo surrounded by a desolate expanse of flood water instead of the usual vast, rippling carpet of greenery, symbolized, perhaps, the inner paralysis gripping our elected representatives in the face of the recent ravaging flood waters.

The helplessly watching so-called City Fathers, as the torrential rains heaped misery upon misery on the public, were only one segment of those class of persons who are considered elected representatives of the people, charged with dispensing important duties towards them.

The number of such “representatives of the people” today runs into the thousands in Sri Lanka. Yet they seem to have been struck with palsy or been petrified into inaction when the flood waters struck and drove tens of thousands of Sri Lanka’s citizens into abject misery.

Where are these servants of the public at this the hour of the country’s need? Why are they hibernating in some safe, cosy hole, while hundreds of those who elected them to office are languishing in makeshift shelters?

We say, punish them. We say, punish these persons who have been propelled to position on the people’s vote but who have, obviously, been doing almost nothing to ensure the people’s welfare.

If they had been doing what was entrusted to them by the public, the floods would not have unleashed mayhem and misery over the length and breadth of the country, so easily.

Today, Sri Lankans are believed to be the beneficiaries of a governance structure which is multi-tiered. Besides the Executive and the central legislature, we possess Provincial Councils, Municipal and Urban Councils and a multitude of Pradeshiya Sabhas.

Therefore, every segment of Lankan society has its representatives and law-makers; those entrusted with ensuring that the people’s interests would always be safeguarded.

Yet, over the past few days of rain-wrought destruction and agony, no such “representatives” were in sight. It seemed as if they had fled into hiding.

Besides, triggering a sea of chaos, the floods exposed and exploded a carefully nurtured myth: that is, the continuously repeated fib that our “representatives” have been engaged in sound “public service” from the time of their assuming office.

These “representatives of the people” stood exposed by the sharp wind and rain which heaped hardships on the people.

The swirling flood-waters proved that no safeguards against nature’s unpredictable and harsh outbursts were in place to protect the people against such onslaughts.

If local government bodies, for instance, had installed the necessary infrastructure and mechanisms to channel rain water out of urban centres, some of the destruction could have been avoided.

If buildings are not permitted to sprout randomly in town centres, some of the flooding could have been prevented.

If land-grabbing is not allowed, marsh land which act as sponges of excess water, would have been preserved and much of the rain water diverted to them.

If our drainage systems are continuously maintained by the local authorities concerned, they could have been prevented from being clogged with refuse and other matter which prevent the easy flow of water.

Likewise, if our roads and highways are scrupulously maintained, crators would not suddenly open out in some of them, imperilling hundreds and thousands of lives.

What all this boils down to is that our “representatives” need to be held stringently accountable for dereliction of duty. For failing the people they should be punished.