Kandy shows how climate change, human error combined to create Sri Lanka’s deadliest disaster

Sri Lanka’s scenic Kandy district — home to the last royal capital of the island’s pre-colonial era — now stands at the centre of the devastation unleashed by Cyclone Ditwah, the worst natural disaster the nation has faced in years. The cyclone-triggered floods and landslides have claimed at least 618 lives across the country, with Kandy alone accounting for a staggering 232 confirmed deaths as of Saturday night. The district also leads the national tally of disappearances, with 91 people still untraced, and has recorded the destruction of nearly 1,800 homes.

For a region steeped in history and nestled within three protective mountain ranges, the scale of the destruction has been unprecedented. Kandy city itself escaped the worst of the cyclone’s fury, but its surrounding rural heartland — home to thousands of families in hillside settlements — suffered catastrophic damage. Entire villages were cut off from the main roads, uprooted trees lay tangled in the ruins of homes, and rescue teams continued to struggle to reach remote pockets even a week after the storm hit.

Experts have warned that the tragedy was compounded by years of unregulated and haphazard construction across vulnerable slopes, where settlements expanded without proper geological assessment or disaster preparedness. One of the worst-hit sites was Nelummala, a village in the Minipe administrative division, located around 75 miles east of Kandy city. On the evening of November 27, as residents prepared for nightfall, massive boulders broke loose from a nearby mountain range and thundered down onto the cluster of homes below. Within moments, all 21 houses in the village were buried under earth and rock. Among the first responders was 34-year-old Buddhist monk Rev. Palletanne Chandrananda, who ran a small school in the area. Speaking to PTI by phone, he recounted the horror of that evening. “I managed to save six of them,” he said. He believes that more than 30 residents may have perished, although search teams are still clearing the debris. What was once a serene village surrounded by paddy fields has now transformed into a landscape of rubble, with almost no sign of its former life.

One survivor, a woman who did not wish to be identified, said she owed her life to the monk. But she described the overwhelming uncertainty that now grips the village’s displaced families. “We don’t know how to begin again,” she said. “Our clothes, our children’s books — everything is gone.”

President Anura Kumara Dissanayake visited Kandy district on Saturday and made a pointed observation: the disaster was not only the result of natural forces but also of human negligence. He criticised the unauthorised construction of homes and commercial buildings in high-risk areas and vowed that such practices would no longer be tolerated. The President announced a compensation plan offering SLR 5 million for rebuilding houses destroyed entirely, along with another SLR 5 million for land acquisition for families who must relocate. However, local experts argue that piecemeal financial relief will not address the structural issues that made the disaster so deadly. Kalum Samarasena, a university lecturer based in Kandy, said that Ditwah’s aftermath must be treated as a serious warning on climate change and the vulnerabilities it amplifies. “This cannot be solved by simply giving cash,” he said. “People will return to the same unsafe locations if left to rebuild on their own. The government needs a long-term, planned approach to resettlement on safer state lands, with appropriate infrastructure to withstand future disasters.”

Cyclone Ditwah has also exposed the limits of Sri Lanka’s disaster-response capacity. As search and relief operations continue, international assistance has poured in. India was the first to respond to Colombo’s appeal, extending support under Operation Sagar Bandhu as the island began the monumental task of rehabilitation. For now, as Kandy’s ancient city stands shaken but intact, its surrounding villages bear silent testimony to the sheer force of nature — and to the human vulnerabilities that made this tragedy far worse than it needed to be.