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'I went in search of gold and lost my most precious possessions..." 

Heartbreak in Habarana  

When I returned my sons were gone...

A paternal uncle at the spot where the little boys were killed...

An alms giving at home: The final goodbye Photos by Ranee Mohamed

May our sons be well... Ashoka and Wijitha says goodbye

Ashoka Bandara         Nishantha       Asanka Sanjeewa

By Ranee Mohamed in Habarana 

It is Sunday, December 14, and the festive spirit is all over the city of Colombo. But in the matchbox like construction on the main road in Iriyageoya, Habarana there is the greatest sorrow that human beings can ever experience -there is the burning pain that only the loss of a child can bring; and here not one but three.

Patachchara lost two children and almost lost her mind, but had the words of the Buddha to comfort her. Asoka Kumarihamy lost her three children on Uduwap Poya Day, and is still waiting for solace and comfort. Her tears are continuous. She suddenly stops and wipes the tears and says "My sons hated to see me cry, please do not publish pictures of me crying, it will break my sons' hearts.." she begs.

This Sunday was the day to give alms - there were three little baskets with meagre contents - a few bananas, three chocolates and some coloured sweets, there were three towels and three pillows too.

The Buddhists priests were getting ready to leave, the mother and father, still numb with grief, stood, they were poor, but now, without their three little sons, they were poorer.

Less than five people could be inside this little house, but outside, there were many sympathisers - almost every woman was carrying a child and it brought greater sorrow to the heart of the young mother in mourning, Asoka Kumarihamy. Clad in a dirty yellow T-shirt, her hair dishevelled, her heart broken, she walked about touching other people's children, holding her heart and crying out loud.

"Look what happened to me Miss," she cried beating her chest. " I left my children and went to Lebanon on October 1, they telephoned me on December 6 and two days later they were gone," said Asoka, crying uncontrollably.

Search for gold

This poor woman who left her ramshackle house and beautiful sons and went in search of gold to Lebanon, came back and found that she had lost her most precious possessions.

Asoka Kumarihamy was told that her husband was in hospital and was brought back to Sri Lanka. But in Habarana town when the vehicle stopped, she saw a notice with the photographs of her three sons "It was a death notice with my sons' pictures, I wanted to die, what had happened to my babies? Why were they sleeping in little coffins? How did they find the exact size coffins to fit my sons in?" she cried.

"I wore pink because my sons wanted me to look beautiful. But when I came back they were sleeping in three coffins. I hugged them and kissed them and tried to wake them. I even told them that I had brought the three bicycles that they wanted so much. But they did not open their eyes. Usually at the mention of the word 'bicycle'  my sons' eyes lit with happiness, and when they did not open their eyes this time, I knew that my sons had died, for real and then I changed to my only dirty white blouse," cried Asoka Kumarihamy.

Next to her stood a emaciated man, Vijitha Bandara, the father. "She says I should have looked after the children. I did my best for them. I was in the front of the house making a flower pot and I heard a deafening sound. When I ran around the house, I saw my three children lying in three different places," cried Vijitha, still unable to get over his sorrow.

"My eldest son had no leg, my second son's hand had been ripped from his elbow and my little baby - my third son's chest and back of the head were ripped open, but he was conscious. He called out to me "thaththe" and I ran to the road carrying him. But I could not save my child, he died too," said this man who makes flower pots, but found that his life is now laden with wreaths.

There is no love like a mother's love, there is no greater sorrow than that experienced by a mother who has lost her child. Twenty four year old Asoka Kumarihamy had to endure more - she has lost her three sons in one explosion of sadness.

Asoka Bandara, 11, Nishantha Bandara, 10 and Asanka Sanjeewa Bandara 3,died in an explosion on Unduwap Poya Day, Monday, December 8.

"These children are always playing. Most of the time they are hungry, but they are still happy that they can be together," said neighbour K. Gnanawathie.

'Adventure'

Five year old Kasun who had been playing with these children said that the uncle next door had borrowed a mammoty from them. "He told us that he was burying some dangerous things in a balloon, so we decided to dig up the hole when he was gone," said Kasun.

But before Kasun could join in the adventure, the three brothers had dug up the hole and taken out three objects.

"When I heard the sound I thought it was a trap that was laid for the animals around," said Gnanawathie. "When we came running we saw the three children covered in blood, there were body parts all over and blood and smoke," said Gnanawathie in tears.

"The youngest boy used to always talk about his mother, he missed her so much that he used to confide in us that the moment she returned from Lebanon he would put her across the bed and drink her milk. She was feeding him when she had to go to Lebanon," said Gnanawathie.

"I can't bear this anymore. I went to Lebanon bidding my goodbye to my sons and did not know that it was the final goodbye. Of what use is money, without my children? An elephant attacked our house and we had to rebuild it. We had no money and no hope and the only way out was to go overseas, but now I live in regret. Why did I go? It is better  to have  starved here and lived together. I can't bear it anymore," wailed Asoka.

"I really do not know how we are going to live. I do not have the will to do this kind of work anymore. I wish we had enough money to give proper alms in the name of our sons," said Vijitha.

Lifelong alms giving

Asoka Kumarihamy said "If I live I will spend my life giving alms in the memory of my three sons..but I did not have money to feed my children when they were living and I do not have the money to give alms in their memory when they are gone." cried this young mother.

"I want to tell every mother not to leave their children and go overseas. It is not worth it. How much I suffered for my little babies. I used to think of their little hands and their legs when I used to go to asleep. I used to imagine that my little baby was sleeping next to me. I worked so hard and cried myself to sleep thinking of my three children. I wanted to come back to my home and sleep with my children, but now I am back home, but I have no children. When I came back, they had gone.," and the tears and the wailing echoed into the jungle.

The three boys died when they planned to dig out the 'treasure' after the adventure in the jungle. This 'treasure' exploded as the landlord's son, a soldier had brought home three bombs and buried them in his backyard. The three boys who watched it all had returned to the site and dug open the hole after the soldier had left.

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