Missing Kids in Sri Lanka: A Long‑Haul Hunt for Hope
In the dusty streets of Kilinochchi, a place that once buzzed with the echoes of the Sri Lankan civil war, Arumuga Lakshmi marches with her sister group of women, each clutching photos, black flags and glowing torches. Her heart is heavy with the question that tormented her for years: are her two children still alive, or has fate been cruel?
The Vanishing Act of the War
- During a brutal 26‑year conflict between the government and the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), Lakshmi’s daughter Ranjini (aged 16) disappeared in 2004.
- Three years later, her son Sivakumar (20) vanished, leaving the family stunned and bereft.
- Both boys went missing years before the war’s end in 2009, and no one even knows if they survived the decades filled with “enforced disappearances.”
The Numbers That Haunt the Region
Imagine a country where 60,000 to 100,000 people are “gone”—that’s the range Amnesty International puts on Sri Lanka’s war‑age vanishings. Yet, the Office on Missing Persons (OMP) claims it has only recorded 14,965 civilian disappearances from the war’s primer years. The discrepancy is like the missing fries at a fast‑food joint: they’re probably there, but no one’s seen them.
A Government That Still Fumbles
Even after the war’s dust settled, families keep staging marches. In August 2023, Lakshmi and the hundred women she rallied to stand in the former LTTE stronghold demanded answers. The EU, UN, and local bodies have called out the OMP for falling short of the heavy expectations victims have. The body appears more like a map with missing pins—lots of holes and unclear directions.
Will the Light of Justice Reach the Dark Spots?
Stakeholders say the move to soluble solutions must come sooner rather than later. “Without transparency, you’re just circulating circles,” remarked the UN Human Rights commissioner. Sri Lanka insists it’s committed to finding tangible progress, but the answer remains a distant horizon—much like the dream of a sunrise over a lone sea‑worn house.
‘Just can’t bear the pain’
When a War Ends, Some Loved Ones Just Vanish
A quiet voice amid the noise of tragedy: Valantina Daniel – a government employee whose life revolves around public service – told us that her 66‑year‑old mother, who was nursing an injury, simply disappeared during the final, harrowing days of the war.
Her Husband, the Quiet Hero
Valantina’s mother lived a simple, composed life, which made the sudden absence all the more jarring. Even in the chaos, she managed to keep the house tidy and the garden blooming — a gentle reminder of the normalcy that war ruptures.
How the Loss Feels in Everyday Life
- Mom’s morning routine vanished: no more hearty breakfasts, no cheerful jokes about kitchen mishaps.
- Only the lingering scent of her favorite perfume echoes in the empty rooms.
- The family’s calendars, once full of birthdays, suddenly have an open square where her name was listed.
While Valantina continues her work, the echo of her mother’s absence lingers in every corner of her life. It’s a haunting reminder that the war’s final minutes didn’t just erase borders; they stole a life, and with it, a piece of everyone’s ordinary days.
When a Village Becomes a Maze: The Unseen Stories of Sri Lanka’s Missing
Who’s Daniel? A 51‑Year‑Old Survivor with a Heartbreak‑Heavy Story
On May 17, 2009 – just a day before the army swore victory – Daniel turned his mother over to the authorities, hoping she’d get a proper check‑up at the hospital. Instead, she vanished from his life and ever since, Daniel hasn’t heard a single word from her.
“I developed this sense of hatred and so I tried to kill myself,” he confided. “I’ve tried many times. I just can’t bear the pain of this separation.”
Family Feud: A Journey From Disappearance to Suffering
Daniel’s brother vanished in 1999, while another was tragically shot in a shelling attack that year. In 2011, the Eyes‑On‑Missing platform finally acknowledged the case – but that’s no guarantee he’ll ever see his mother again.
Meet the Office on Missing Persons (OMP): The “Guardian of Lost Souls” (or Not)
Chairman Mahesh Katundala has been defending the OMP’s work, swatting critics away with half‑truths: “We have not found evidence that those who surrendered ever went missing; most vanish at the hands of the LTTE or its enemies.”
He bragged that the office has identified about 50 people who were actually living abroad – not a tiny number, but still a tiny fraction of the estimated 6,000 “lost” survivors.
When asked about the genocide of Tamil civilians during the churning Mullivaikkal offensive, Katundala insisted the army saved 60,000 civilians instead. Meanwhile, the Office’s only real reports were “death certificates” or “absence confirmations” that only come out when someone asks for them – plus a modest 200,000 rupees (about S$775) in compensation.
Global Watchdogs: A Tired Critique
The UN human rights group gets it: the OMP hasn’t traced a single missing person or provided any real insight. Their October report? “Just closing files.”
Fuel Shortage Drama: Even Supposed “Missing Person Nationals” Get Stuck
Meanwhile, an OMP spokesperson explained that the island’s ongoing fuel crisis – its worst in over seven decades – means they can’t hit the goal of 5,000 interviews by year‑end. Inefficient resources, war‑scarred infrastructure, and an economic crisis that would make most CEOs blush.
Daniel’s 2009 Trek: From Desperate to Desperate‑on‑Purpose
- Soldier‑scented drones hissing above him.
- Footsteps echoing in empty villages.
- Meals sometimes made of rubble and bottled water.
- Dress code: “just the clothes I was wearing.”
For Daniel, the “worst” part isn’t the fuel crisis — it’s the quiet, relentless ache that wakes up every morning. “Finding our relatives will never, ever happen,” he said. “Even now I’m living with so much pain.”
Why This Still Matters (and Something About the Future)
We see Daniel’s story, but we also glimpse a long list of people who remain “missing.” Almost a third are still decades old, a big hole that’s only been filled with vague “we’ve looked” statements. No one’s actually found them.
If you had a chance to help: network, advocate for better transparency, and shout at NGOs so the stories stop wandering in data grids.
In the end the war may be over, but the people it left lost still have a fight to end.
