Appreciation of Kumarini Wickramasuriya

Multi-faceted Kumi Wickramasuriya who touched the lives of so many with me, my mother-in-law Y.N. Perera and Dharmin Perera at the event of re-naming the Deshmanya N.U. Jayawardena Road at Tangalla some time back

By Jennifer Moragoda

So many words of appreciation have been written about the incomparable and multi-faceted Kumi Wickramasuriya who touched the lives of so many. She is an inspiration to many people on so many different fronts. I count myself as one of the fortunate people who came to be part of her life and universe. 

She was the closest friend of my mother-in-law, Neiliya Perera, and besides his parents, the person who has known my husband, Milinda, the longest. She was there for his mother’s confinement to help her out with her firstborn. The rare and special friendship of my mother-in-law and Kumi radiated its love and influence to all around them and made us all the stronger for it. I have long cherished and admired Kumi who has meant so much to all of us in our family.

It is hard to remember Kumi without thinking of her husband, Sena Wickramasuriya, Renaissance man, doctor, and deep sea diver, who chose to live in Tangalle rather than Colombo. Sena was equally at ease with fisherfolk as with his peers and was a much revered figure in Tangalle. He helped build the Tangalle fisheries harbour to the extent of carrying rocks and diving to inspect the site when he served as Chairman of the Harbours Corporation in the early 1970s. Though Kumi carried many deep traditions and ties to her De Mel and Moratuwa heritage, after her marriage Tangalle gradually became the new core of her life and purpose.

Milinda and I spent part of our honeymoon in Tangalle with Kumi and Sena. I still remember how Kumi had prepared an oil lamp for us to light and how charmed I was with their oasis in Tangalle replete with exotic fish aquariums everywhere, diving equipment, warm company, scintillating conversations, gourmet food and classical music, surrounded by Kumi’s exquisite garden and the aromas from her famous kitchen floating in the air. She also created a special cake for us on our first wedding anniversary which she donned the Mimosa. At that time Kumi was commuting between Tangalle and Colombo as a consultant to the Maliban Top Shelf bakery, putting her culinary skills to good use. Kumi was talented in all she touched and brought so much beauty and genuine joy to life in everything she did.

After Sena’s untimely death, Kumi’s world fell apart. Now alone, a woman in a remote village far away from her closest family and friends in Colombo, she took the brave decision to remain in Tangalle. In Sena’s memory she embarked upon a venture that they had often spoken of starting. The organisation which she founded, aptly named Navajeevana, created a new life not only for those it served but also for Kumi. I still recall the difficult early days of Navajeevana as Kumi struggled to cope with the recent loss of her life partner, with her teenage son Arun to support through school and university, and to adjust to her new status as a widow, founding a new enterprise with uncertain funding and little experience. I recall and witnessed how she built up Navajeevana piece by piece. Like her many friends and family members, and others she had inspired, we all supported her in various ways in this long road.

Disability at that time was a taboo subject in the village even though Hambantota was the worst afflicted area due to high levels of malnourishment and the lack of resources and facilities. The fact that someone of Kumi’s stature was involved and her hands-on approach helped to gradually remove the stigma and bring disability out into the open.

In the early days of Navajeevana, Kumi herself made field trips to remote areas of Tangalle to visit the homes of the disabled. Some of these homes lay beyond paved roads and bus routes so that part of the distance could only be reached by foot. She hired and trained college graduates from the area providing them with hard to find jobs and a purpose. Kumi in her double cab was a common sight in remote areas of the Hambantota District and created quite a stir. She continued her work at the height of the troubles in the late 1980s, at a time when many NGOs fled Tangalle. Hers was the only one permitted to operate undisturbed.

Kumi always had a strong sense of service to others and a strong belief and faith in God that sustained her throughout her life, and a great generosity of spirit. Even in the most difficult times, she had an unwavering religious faith. She often serenely remarked in wonder that someone above was looking after her. Strangely enough, small miracles seemed to occur from nowhere when she most needed help.

It is entirely due to Kumi that Navajeevana became an indispensable community focal point and resource centre, as well as a source of pride for the community. When the tsunami struck, Navajeevana was the obvious choice as the logistical base of operations for much of the aid work in Tangalle as the organisation had strong ties to the surrounding communities and the necessary logistical competence and experience. Many better funded and well-paying international NGOs marvelled at what she was able to achieve on a shoe-string budget with her highly motivated and trained team.

Ironically, Navajeevana had been struggling to obtain enough funds to finance its ongoing programmes (such as her preschools, weekly clinics, eye camps, training of volunteers, prosthetics workshop, etc.) and widening network of clients as foreign donors began to make drastic cuts on programme funding. However, after the tsunami, with the increasing awareness and appreciation of its activities, everyone wanted to be a part of the inspiring story of Navajeevana and there was an influx of funds that helped tide over the organisation for some time and provided Kumi with the ability to implement programmes she had envisioned. She never sit back, but kept on devising new ways to expand Navajeevana’s reach.

It gave much joy to Kumi when Navajeevana was asked to design and build a disability-friendly housing scheme for fisherfolk whose houses had been destroyed in the tsunami. Her talented architect niece, Amila de Mel, assisted Kumi in this venture. The housing scheme was held up as a model project by many local and international agencies. Always keen to encourage and empower the disabled and to find ways to bring about more public integration and awareness of disability issues, Kumi was thrilled when USAID approved of a project to set up a gift shop with local products made by the disabled as well as a tourist cafe fully manned by the disabled at Navajeevana headquarters.

After the end of the war, Navajeevana was drawn upon by the government to help train social workers from the North and the East. It brought her great happiness and pride to see the hard-built knowledge and experience of Navajeevana reach beyond regional borders and the people she had trained over the years develop in competence to this high level. For many founders, it is hard to divorce yourself from your creation. However, Kumi was always balanced and responsible, knowing when to lead from the front and when to do so from behind. She let others take the credit.

Kumi was always full of new ideas and plans and had a big heart. Though it saddens me that she is no longer with us, I can only smile when I think of her, for she lived a full, meaningful and contented life, and was widely loved. One of Kumi’s greatest joys was to be able to take her granddaughter Ananya to spend time in Tangalle this past Christmas. Kumi’s legacy lives on in all her loved ones, her son Arun, his wife Kishani, her granddaughter Ananya, family members Ranjini, Amila, Hiran, Suresh and Aro, as well as her other family, friends and those many others whose lives she has touched.