By Feizal Samath
LABUNORUWA, Sri Lanka, Aug 1 2000 (IPS)

The dusty mud track in this remote hamlet in north-central Sri Lanka is like any another village path in the country’s dry zone. Except for the road marker.

The freshly painted, cement and brick signpost, carries stark black letters stating: ‘Ranaviru (war hero) Ranjith Jayaweera Avenue’. It is not the only one. Labunoruwa has several paths named in honour of men slain in the Indian Ocean island nation’s ethnic conflict.

For the past 17 years, Tamil Tiger rebels have been carrying out a violent campaign to demand a separate home for Sri Lanka’s minority Tamil people in the country’s north and east.

Labunoruwa, with more than 200 families whose main vocation is farming, has lost fathers, husbands, sons and brothers in the conflict. All laid down their lives after joining government forces battling the separatist Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE).

While the village honours these men, residents complain that the government has forgotten the dead soldiers and their kin.

“Our young are just dying away in the war,” laments rice farmer Heen Appuhamy, who himself lost a son in the war.

Says 24-year-old Ajantha Weeraratne, who lost her soldier husband last year: “The promises have not been fulfilled. We have become destitute.” Neither she nor her children have been paid any compensation.

A military spokesperson in Colombo told IPS that the next of kin of military personnel who die in battle are entitled to a compensation of 100,000 rupees (1,300 U.S. dollars).

The slain soldier is also given a promotion in rank and his family gets the salary he would have got till the day of his retirement, plus a pension.

“The compensation should be paid to the next of kin between three to six months after the death of a combatant while salary payments should continue immediately after death. There are rarely delays in processing unless the documents of the next of kin need checking,” he said.

According to the spokesperson, complications arise when a soldier has listed his parents, instead of the wife, as the next of kin.

However, many civil society groups have complained in past years about the lack of a support system for the dependents of slain and disabled soldiers.

A government scheme, begun in May this year to help war widows, the war disabled and their families has been criticised as coming too late. Opposition parties have run this down as a move that aims more to help the ruling alliance’s chances in the forthcoming parliament polls.

President Chandrika Kumaratunga has asked her officials and ruling alliance lawmakers to prepare a list of war widows, war-wounded and their families. The government has promised houses and other benefits to these people in addition to finding jobs for the disabled.

However, the people of Labunoruwa and other neighbouring villages are still to hear of this. Weeraratne’s husband, Lalith Kumara Samarasekera, was killed by the rebels on Oct. 15, 1999, when she was four months’ pregnant. He never got to see the newborn twins.

Weeratne lives in a tiny hut made of sticks with a thatch roof along with her four small children. The hut is bare except for three broken cane chairs and a tattered mat.

“Life was harsh, but there was always hope,” she says, recalling how she worked on their tiny farm plot while Samarasekera sent enough money from the battle front to buy food and other essentials for the family.

The couple hoped to build a small brick house and had even bought the bricks, sand and stones. But she had to sell the building materials after his death, to feed her family. “When the twins came I was forced to sell Samarasekera’s bicycle,” she says.

She has filled numerous forms at the nearby army office in the hope of getting the promised compensation. But the officials only asked her more and more questions and wanted papers she did not have.

“How many more times must I do this before I get justice,” she says, breaking down in tears. “My husband sacrificed his life for the country, so why should we have to go and plead with the authorities for what is rightfully ours?” she asks.

According to Sheela Ratnayake, who works with a non- governmental organisation in the area, most war widows in villages in the north- central region have been unable to get their dues processed quickly.

“The bureaucracy is very slow and widows have to suffer in silence,” she says.

Most recruits to Sri Lanka’s armed forces come from villages like Labunoruwa, who were once eager to join.

However, things are changing. “The youngsters are not too eager to join up now, knowing that they would be sent to the frontline and face death after a few months of training,” says a village elder. Parents are also reluctant to send their children to the military, he adds.

In another part of Labunoruwa, 23-year old Ranjani Pushpachandra weeps because she could not have a child before her soldier husband was killed.

“My chest is burning,” she cries while recalling the day, about three years ago, when she was told her husband had been killed in battle, just three months after their marriage.

She gets her husband’s salary, but has not got the other compensation. “Do we have to plead with officials for our rightful dues?” she asks.

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