The Island Editorial

Alice in Wonderland – II

11 October 2016

 

Last Sunday, Alice Akka was ambling to her vegetable plot when she fell into a rabbit hole. She went hurtling down a dark void and, a few moments later, landed on her back with a thud. She found herself in Wonderland.

A deposed king with his family was seated on a sidewalk. They were apparently planning to regain the kingdom which, they had once thought, was their grandma’s estate. Street lights were on and Alice Akka saw a posh nightclub over yonder. All of a sudden, several Defenders appeared from nowhere, thundered past her and screeched to a halt near that place.

The reigning king’s son got off, surrounded by many palace guards armed to the teeth. When the king was away the prince was at play, someone muttered to himself. The swashbuckling skolly was showing off his gym toned muscles maintained with public funds and sought to force himself into the club only to be stopped by some bouncers blocking the entrance. An argument ensued and then the armed guards pounced on the security personnel. It was like a scene from a Hollywood blockbuster. One of the bouncers was rushed to hospital.

What Alice Akka saw next was retchingly disgusting. Some police bigwigs were doing their damndest to save the prince. Police spokesman was ordered to make himself unavailable to the media. He went missing. The victims who received knuckle sandwiches from the king’s guards were forced to withdraw their statements and the perpetrators were let off the hook. The media chose to play it safe as they knew the victims would be frightened into submission. They opted for self-censorship.

Disappointed with what she saw Alice Akka retraced her steps in disgust, found the rabbit hole and clambered up its rugged slope to the surface. She felt immensely relieved that she was back. She was elated to see a vibrant press exposing wrongdoers and naming and shaming them intrepidly. Many a Disgusted, Tunbridge Wells fearlessly gave vent to his pent up anger through opinion columns. Political leaders’ sons were observing sil; they would not harm even an ant let alone assault bouncers at nightclubs. They were leading simple lives without wasting public funds.

The President was waxing eloquent on good governance and morality. He was threatening to whip any woman who threw bras at musical shows. He was waving a stingray tail or madu walige by way of a dire warning. Alice Akka wondered how tough he would get with anyone who dared get involved in drunken brawls over women in nightclubs and smashed up those dens of vice.

The Prime Minister was at the office of ethics and morality, pontificating on the virtues of good governance and stressing the need for people to meet and disperse peacefully like Licchavis even at nightclubs. He was explaining the government plans to strengthen the rule of law and ensure that everybody was equal before the law.

The IGP was urging the police to carry out their duties and functions without fear or favour and threatening to sack errant cops. The Media Minister was flaunting the new Right to Information Act. Media rights groups were holding a rally to celebrate the newfound media freedom under the present dispensation and Alice Akka, amped and hyper, shouted: "Long live the Sri Lankan media!" Civil society organisations remained Argus-eyed and ready to take on the government at the drop of a hat. She was happy that democracy was blooming with good health.

Alice Akka felt disgusted with the rulers, the media personnel and the guardians of law in Wonderland she had just been to. She wondered how on earth any land could become so bad with the rulers and their progeny being above the law and a self-castrated Fourth Estate looking the other way. She could not understand why Wonderland could not emulate her beloved country, where good governance was overflowing like the turgid waters of Mahaweli Ganga during torrential rains. She felt proud to be a citizen of Sri Lanka––a land like no other.