St. Benedicts College, Colombo, Sri Lanka
IT Society - Articles - News Categories - Discussion Forum - Web Links - Tell A Benedictine
Main Menu
Last Seen Users
lishantha 2 days
YOHAN FSC 6 days
Sydney Xavier 1 week
GlenJoseph 5 weeks
PrasannaSilva63 weeks
Dennis Chand...88 weeks
Admin90 weeks
Robert De Rose93 weeks
Harindu Goon...110 weeks
Santha Perera156 weeks
Valentine170 weeks
Nilesh Tavar...177 weeks
dougjay181 weeks
cassian193 weeks
Geethanath H...194 weeks
Dilshan de S...227 weeks
chamara Dhar...227 weeks
bertusvanhoff235 weeks
Members only
My mentor was killed!
OBU, ColomboHe was not a mere journalist, but a visionary. Pen was his sword, a fighter belonging to a league of his own. Four years have lapsed, his words have come true; ‘Then they came for me, and there was no one left to speak out for me’.

I met him first when I was 12 during an Old boys meeting at St. Benedict’s College, Colombo when my father said, “Son, I want you to meet one of my favourite classmates. He is Lasantha Wickrematunge and he owns the pen that is feared the most in the country”. Dreamt of being a pilot, but over the next seven years I didn’t miss his column, he inspired me to take up journalism. That fateful morning on the 8th of January 2009, arguably the most courageous journalist the island has produced was murdered in cold blood, silencing not only him, but the entire profession.

Four years ago at his funeral procession crowded by hundreds of thousands, the ferocious voices of the opposition parliamentarians, civil leaders and journalism activists swore upon Lasantha’s dead body to lay their lives to continue his fight and to fast to death until his murderers were brought to book. Opportunists! Today none of them could be bothered to wake up half an hour early and attend his memorial mass which only saw the participation of his close family, four parliamentarians, few staff members of The Sunday Leader, a handful of Benedictines and barely any journalists.

Entering through the gate to the Borella cemetery an empty, gloomy and morbid drive-way awaited us (My dad and I), instead of an expected gathering of thousands. We squinted in the morning sunlight as we looked out for Lasantha’s grave for there was no sign of a memorial mass of a great human being. A five hundred metre walk through the long rows of head-boards denoting the trenches where our dead are buried, got us to the destination where hardly fifty had gathered.

My dad then explained the stark reality of life while at the quiet, windswept cemetery, ‘No matter how great, once gone, you are forgotten unless the living still could benefit from you’.

Sunesh Rodrigo

Please copy and past the following link on your web browser to view the full version.
 Posted by DARREL LUDOWYKE on January 08 2013 05:01:57 · 0 Comments · 771 Reads Print
No Comments have been Posted.
Post Comment
Please Login to Post a Comment.
Rating is available to Members only.

Please login or register to vote.

No Ratings have been Posted.


Forgotten your password?
Request a new one here.
Forum Threads
Newest Threads
Any OBU chapter in I...
St Lucia's Cathedral...
Is anyone here from ...
College Big Match
Old Bens UK – Annual...
Hottest Threads
College Big Match [15]
Big Match [6]
Web site for A/L ... [5]
Season's greetings [5]
Membershp for OBU [5]