 Muslim Aid's Peace Village Brings Harmony in Eastern Sri LankaFor 25 years, Sri Lanka has been a country torn apart by civil strife. Fighting between separatist Tamil rebels and Government security forces in the country's northern and eastern areas have left 70,000 dead and countless more injured. Some 325,000 people remain refugees in their own land, according to UNHCR figures. The conflict has ruptured the fabric of society; ethnically different communities who lived together harmoniously for generations were suddenly enemies, fleeing from their neighbours into safety among those of their own kind. Such separation has led to even more distrust and suspicion. Sri Lanka's eastern Batticaloa district is a mix of the three main communities - Sinhalese, Tamils and Muslims, with Muslims making up the majority followed by Tamils. Many of the Sinhalese have left for the south. Muslims and Tamils on the outskirts of Batticaloa town have been continually displaced by the fighting, caught in the middle of the conflict, reduced to moving from one refugee camp to the other. Even those who managed to resettle either in their original homes or in new ones faced further disaster when the tsunami of December 2004 swept through the east, destroying even the meagre shelters they had managed to scavenge for themselves. Although Wijesinghe Jayasinghe, 34, is a Tamil Hindu, he has a Sinhalese name mysteriously passed down by his father, also a Tamil Hindu. Jayasinghe has lived all his life in Ollikulam with his Muslim neighbours with little trouble. The war changed all that and gradually distrust and suspicion built up until, in 1999, alarmed by escalating violence, he sought a more peaceful place some miles away. He lived there with his parents and three brothers and sisters, camped out in a temporary shelter in a field and surviving on money earned by chopping and selling firewood. It was a hard life for his elderly parents and siblings, who also had families of small children to support. After two years, Jayasinghe returned to Ollikulam and set up home in a plot belonging to his father's friend in another thatch-roofed temporary shelter. For three years, they eked out a living, barely able to get by. By this time Jayasinghe was married with an infant of his own, working as a labourer in the town. When he left for work that December morning in 2004, Jayasinghe had little idea that even his few possessions would be swept away by a giant wave, which mercifully spared his family. Once again a refugee, Jayasinghe and his family lived for two years in a school, waiting for Government assistance that never came. Finally, in 2006, Jayasinghe heard that Muslim Aid Sri Lanka was building houses for tsunami victims and he was allocated one. "It has been a great help that Muslim Aid has given 20 Tamil families these houses," he said. Like Jayasinghe, A.L.M. Rahmatullah, a Muslim, has lived in Ollikulam all his life. It was a peaceful place that remained peaceful even after the first Tamil refugees started arriving in 1984 when the ethnic war began escalating. Unlike most of his neighbours who were unskilled and uneducated, Rahmatullah was Public Health Inspector. In 1990, the rebels attacked a mosque killing scores of worshippers at prayer. That incident persuaded Rahmatullah and another 194 families that they would be safer living among other Muslims so he moved to Kathankudy, a Muslim village just a few miles from Ollikulam. Life was uncomfortable with all the families crammed into a school. Rising land prices in the area, one of the most densely populated in Asia, prohibited the new refugees from settling down in a central location. Instead, they bought land close to the sea, building temporary shelters and managing to barely survive. When even these dwellings were washed away by the tsunami, the Ollikulam Muslims found themselves once more crowded into tents that leaked during the heavy monsoon rains and baked in the searing April sun. By this time, Rahmatullah had a family of three children to care for; a tent was no home for children. Then Rahmatullah heard the MASL was giving houses to 80 tsunami affected Muslim families and claimed one as his own. "Finally having a house has helped us a lot and we are very grateful to Muslim Aid," said Rahmatullah. MASL's assistance to the tsunami victims has gone beyond merely providing houses. In a bid to ease tensions between the two communities, kept apart by the war for many years, MASL facilitated discussions and meetings between community and religious leaders aimed at working together to solve common problems and rebuild trust and harmony. "Muslim Aid helped us to bring together people of both communities for talks. As a religious leader, I acted as a liaison between Tamils and Muslims," said Vairamuthu Valikuram, the local Hindu priest who has served the people of Ollikulam for 32 years. "Although we were away from Ollikulam for 15 years, the Tamils welcomed us back and helped us to settle in again. We encourage our children to play together - children have no hatred or prejudice. In this way, we are teaching them to live together in peace," said Rahmatullah. "We have no problems with Muslim people. Our children play together and we attend each other's festivals and have parties together,” said Jayasinghe.
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