Sri Lanka Bombings Leave Dozens Blind

Nayantara Gunasekera, whose first name means “star of the eye” in her native Sinhala language, has been sightless since the Central Bank was bombed four years ago.

The former lawyer who now settles neighborhood spats by phone is one of a growing number of blind Sri Lankans, wounded by flying shrapnel or glass from bombings blamed on the Tamil Tiger rebels.

Those who have lost their limbs during the 17-year civil war have received the most attention. Blindness from bomb explosions was a subject little discussed in this island nation of 18.6 million people, which has limited counseling, training or rehabilitation services.

The problem received more attention since President Chandrika Kumaratunga escaped a rebel assassination attempt but was blinded in her right eye by a suicide bomber at a campaign rally last December. She has periodically sought treatment outside Sri Lanka in an attempt to restore her vision.

Fifteen major bombings in the capital, Colombo, in the last five years have killed about 375 people.

There are 35 recorded cases of people being blinded in those explosions. But scores of others may have been partially blinded or developed eye ailments at later stages, situations that would not have been reported to the state-run medical centers.

The Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam, fighting for a homeland for the country’s 3.2 million minority Tamils, set off bombs to kill political leaders or cause economic harm to the government.

Gunasekera, now 41, was in her office at the Central Bank on Jan. 31, 1996, when the rebels drove a truck full of explosives into the building in the heart of Colombo’s commercial district. A series of explosions set off fires in neighboring high-rise buildings, and tons of falling rubble crushed hundreds of people, killing 91.

“I was nursing a headache and trying to write a summary of notes about my appearance in court that day, when the whole place exploded,” Gunasekera recalled. She woke up in the hospital, blind in both eyes.

“I was in terrible pain, but I was also determined to get as well as I possibly could,” she said. “I try not to relive that moment every day.”

Dull scars fan out from her eyes toward her forehead and disappear into her hair, where glass tore through her flesh.

During the last four years surgeons in Sri Lanka and India have extracted bits of glass from her eyes, giving her negligible improvement, the ability to differentiate hazy outlines of light and darkness. She has taught herself to dust, sweep and chop vegetables and spends most of her time at home with her son, Shaluka, 21, who attends daily computer classes.

Gunasekera is one of seven people totally blinded in the bank bombing, while another six suffered eye injuries.

Psychological Trauma Often Goes Untreated

The Blind People’s Services Board trains the blind to use a cane and to read Braille. Two other organizations provide training for children. But counseling and lessons in skills such as household chores are not freely available.

Sri Lanka has only 35 psychiatrists and eight psychologists available to help bomb victims deal with the trauma and the problems of facing life with a serious impairment.

Gunasekera relied on her friends and son. “My friends helped me so much to come to terms with blindness, and my son, who is my driver, attendant, my everything,” she said. She also practices meditation three times a week at a neighborhood Buddhist temple.

Charith Fonseka, one of Sri Lanka’s most respected eye surgeons, is called in on most of the bomb-blindness cases and was one of the first to treat Gunasekera.

“People instinctively look toward the light that flashes before an explosion,” he said. “Many are blinded by shrapnel and glass that fly out at high speed as a bomb explodes.”

He said, “A piece of glass or shrapnel lodged in the eye could also lead to infection and eventually blindness.”

If the shrapnel is not lodged too deeply, it can be extracted and some vision may be restored over time.

“A lot of the trauma, however, can come from both the injury and also adjusting to blindness,” Fonseka said.

Gunasekera finds her way around her single-story house by touch. There is little furniture, and pictures are placed in corners or on the floor. Small, breakable objects are few, except for photographs that she can no longer see. Shaluka reads the newspapers to her.

She is often called upon to mediate neighborhood disputes, and she gives legal advice to the area lawyer’s association, which she once served as secretary.

“I have started to attempt cooking, with my son’s help,” she said. Shaluka lights the stove and stands by to make sure she doesn’t get too near the flames. He helps her gather the ingredients, and she cuts vegetables by touch.

“I have cooked some good meals,” she said.

After four years of trying hard to come to terms with her blindness, Gunasekera says, “I haven’t given up trying to have at least some part of my sight restored.”