-By Geo Politics correspondent
(Lanka-e-News -08.April.2025, 11.30 PM) New Delhi, April 8 – In a stunning display of amnesia mixed with bravado, Namal Rajapaksa — the dashing son of former President Mahinda Rajapaksa and proud heir to Sri Lanka’s most dramatic political soap opera — stood in front of an Indian audience and declared that “political delays in development projects” led to Sri Lanka’s economic collapse.
Yes, you read that right.
Not the uncontrolled borrowing, not the phantom highways, not the white elephant airports, or the palace-sized cricket stadiums with no spectators. No, no. According to Namal, Sri Lanka’s spectacular nosedive into economic ruin was all because people said “wait a minute” to a few questionable projects.
Speaking at the ‘Rising Bharat’ Summit (which ironically invited someone from a sinking Sri Lanka), Namal took the stage under the theme “South Asian Platter: Menu for Growth”.
Some might say it was poetic. Others would say it was a buffet of baloney.
“We must implement and execute what has to be done at that given time,” Namal told a politely confused Indian audience, possibly wondering, “Isn’t this the guy whose uncle fled the country during the worst financial crisis in Lankan history?”
Let’s jog the memory: when the Sri Lankan economy collapsed in 2022, gas stations turned into campgrounds, ATMs displayed more error messages than money, and people stood in queues longer than Namal’s legal case files.
And in the middle of it all, the Rajapaksas vanished, like a bad investment.
According to Namal, projects like Sampur power plant and the Uma Oya hydro project were delayed “for political reasons.” He makes it sound like someone threw a tantrum and unplugged Sri Lanka’s power grid.
But let’s pause and ask — who was in power during those delays?
Spoiler alert: The Rajapaksas!
If projects were delayed, it was either:
Because no one could figure out which Rajapaksa was in charge of what, or
The project funds were mysteriously harder to trace than Namal’s law degree results.
It’s rich — no, imported-dark-chocolate-luxury-rich — for someone from a family accused of siphoning state funds, shoving relatives into every state post, and building airports that only serve crows, to now lecture others on how to get development done.
Just when you thought it couldn’t get more entertaining, Namal also waded into US tariff policies — because why not?
One must ask: What exactly are Namal’s qualifications to comment on U.S. trade tariffs? A YouTube crash course? A forwarded WhatsApp from Basil Rajapaksa titled “How Tariffs Work in 2 Minutes”?
Given that Namal’s own economic policies peaked with sponsoring a rugby tournament, his sudden interest in macro-trade dynamics is like asking a tuk-tuk driver to explain quantum physics. With all due respect to tuk-tuk drivers — at least they show up for work.
The Sri Lankan public isn’t just confused by Namal’s economic commentary — they’re also curious about how a Member of Parliament, with no visible business empire, managed to:
Study in the UK (hello, Cardiff!),
Drive luxury vehicles,
Maintain a lifestyle that screams “Gold Class” in an economy that was begging for lentils.
With legal charges and corruption investigations trailing him like a Wi-Fi signal in Fort, Namal is yet to convincingly answer:
How did you fund your studies abroad?
What does your declared asset list say?
Did someone mistake the Treasury for a family trust fund?
Perhaps instead of speaking at summits, Namal could host one titled:
“Offshore Accounts and Other Fairy Tales: A Masterclass in Political Inheritance.”
Let’s not forget the climax of the Rajapaksa era: mass protests, millions marching to Galle Face Green, people jumping palace fences like it was Sinhala and Tamil New Year Parkour Championships — all to say one thing: Enough of this dynasty!
And when the going got tough? The Rajapaksas got going. Literally.
Mahinda disappeared into the shadows.
Gotabaya took the next flight out like he booked an economy apocalypse package.
Basil tried to leave through the VIP lounge while pretending not to hear angry citizens shouting “Where’s our money?”
And yet, Namal Rajapaksa now resurfaces, dressed in his best statesman suit, ready to narrate a history where he is the warning voice, the misunderstood visionary, the wise youth who tried to save the country from, well… his own family’s rule.
One can only assume India invited Namal for entertainment value. Between serious sessions on digital infrastructure and regional trade, they needed comic relief.
And boy, did they get it.
Maybe next time, India could also invite:
A magician, to explain where Sri Lanka’s money disappeared,
A therapist, to unpack the Rajapaksa family complex,
Or a forensic accountant, to finally get to the bottom of the 2022 financial implosion.
Namal’s speech in India proves one thing: The Rajapaksas may have lost power, but they haven’t lost their talent for rewriting history.
They were at the helm when Sri Lanka hit an iceberg, yet Namal now stands on the shore yelling, “The compass was broken! I told everyone to row faster!”
If Sri Lanka is to rebuild, it cannot afford another round of political cosplay disguised as policy insight. What it needs is transparency, humility, and fewer microphones in the hands of those who already had their shot and blew it—spectacularly.
So dear Namal, maybe next time skip the summit. Stay home.
Study your law books, file your asset declarations, and leave the economy to those who didn’t bankrupt it.
-By Geo Politics correspondent
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by (2025-04-08 20:30:00)
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