Ten Years On, a Trail of Phone Calls, Political Shadows, and Unanswered Questions - Will Justice Finally Be Served?
(Lanka-e-News -30.April.2025, 11.20 PM) On a humid morning in May 2012, the charred remains of a young rugby player with a movie-star smile were found in a burned-out car near the Shalika Grounds in Colombo. The victim was 28-year-old Wasim Thajudeen, a former Sri Lankan national rugby union star, beloved by fans and feared by opponents. Police ruled it an accident. But nothing in Sri Lanka is ever that simple.
More than a decade later, the case has grown into one of the most politically sensitive murder investigations in the island nation’s post-war history — a case that reaches, some believe, into the highest corridors of power, possibly as far as the Presidential residence at Temple Trees, and into the shadowy operations of the Rajapaksa family itself.
This week marked the tenth anniversary of Thajudeen’s death. A solemn commemoration was held at the #GotaGoGama protest camp in Galle Face, the symbolic heart of Sri Lanka’s 2022 uprising against the Rajapaksas. Yet the murder — or more precisely, the cover-up of the murder — remains unsolved, and one question continues to echo: will justice ever be served?
17 May 2012: The official police version was simple and convenient. Thajudeen, it was claimed, had been driving under the influence when he lost control of his car and crashed. The vehicle had caught fire. A tragedy, yes — but an accident. Judicial Medical Officer (JMO) Prof. Ananda Samarasekera, a man later accused of tampering with forensic reports, quickly signed off on the story. Alcohol in the blood. Carbon monoxide poisoning. Case closed.
But anyone who knew Wasim — a disciplined athlete and teetotaller — found the story implausible.
And they were right.
It took three years and a change of government before the truth began to emerge.
27 July 2015: The CID, under pressure from the new administration of President Maithripala Sirisena and Prime Minister Ranil Wickremesinghe, finally informed court that Thajudeen’s death was not an accident.
10 August 2015: His body was exhumed. A new team of forensic experts — Dr Ajith Tennakoon, Dr Jean Perera, and Dr S.G.A. Hewage — found overwhelming evidence of foul play. Multiple blunt force injuries to the legs, chest, and neck. Burns inconsistent with a post-crash fire. Thajudeen had been tortured. He had been murdered.
The judicial process now had a new mandate: not to discover what happened, but who was responsible.
As investigators peeled back the layers of deceit, what emerged was not only a brutal killing, but a brazen and systematic cover-up — possibly orchestrated by powerful figures within the police and political elite.
25 February 2016: A Colombo court finally ruled the death to be a murder and directed the CID to arrest suspects.
20 April 2016: The first domino fell — the former Officer-in-Charge (OIC) of the Narahenpita Crimes Division was arrested for withholding key evidence.
23 May 2016: The CID arrested former Deputy Inspector General (DIG) Anura Senanayake, one of the highest-ranking police officers in the country, for his alleged role in covering up the murder.
The telephone records painted a chilling picture. Calls had been made to the Narahenpita police from a number registered to the Presidential Secretariat on the night of the murder. A former member of the Presidential Security Division (PSD) had been tracked to the crime scene. The OIC of the Narahenpita Traffic Police had received direct instructions.
Then came perhaps the most damning revelation.
20 September 2018: The CID told the court that a Defender jeep, bearing registration WP KA 0642, had been used to abduct Thajudeen. The vehicle, it turns out, was registered under the Siriliya Saviya Foundation — a charitable organisation founded by Shiranthi Rajapaksa, the former First Lady and wife of then-President Mahinda Rajapaksa.
The jeep had originally been donated to the Sri Lanka Red Cross Society by the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), and was later "loaned" to the First Lady’s charity. Yet somehow, on the night of May 17, 2012, it had allegedly been used in the abduction of a national rugby star who had reportedly fallen out with members of the ruling family.
The CID wanted answers. But Shiranthi Rajapaksa was never questioned. Not even once.
Speculation about motive swirls around a set of persistent rumours. Thajudeen, it was said, had been romantically linked with a young woman close to the Rajapaksa family. Others claim he had refused to "cooperate" with powerful political figures regarding sports sponsorships and land deals. Some allege that the fatal incident was a message — a warning not just to Thajudeen, but to anyone thinking of crossing the dynasty that ruled Sri Lanka with an iron fist.
The whispers grew louder after 2015, when former President Mahinda Rajapaksa was ousted. At election rallies, opposition leaders openly referenced Thajudeen’s death, using it as an example of the Rajapaksas’ impunity. His name became both symbol and slogan — shorthand for the many sins swept under the national carpet.
Yet despite the public outrage, arrests were limited to those involved in the cover-up. The masterminds, many believe, continue to walk free.
As time passed, so did the key figures.
16 July 2020: JMO Ananda Samarasekera, accused of fabricating the first autopsy, died without ever standing trial.
26 February 2021: Former DIG Anura Senanayake, also implicated, passed away while on bail.
Meanwhile, the legal machinery ground forward at a glacial pace.
28 February 2019: The Attorney General finally announced indictments against three individuals — OIC Sumith Perera, DIG Senanayake, and Prof. Samarasekera — all for their role in the cover-up. Not the murder.
Notably, no one from the Rajapaksa inner circle has been arrested. The PSD officials reportedly at the crime scene were never interrogated. And Shiranthi Rajapaksa, despite the damning jeep connection, remains untouched by investigators.
Ten years on, the protesters at Galle Face — the spiritual epicentre of Sri Lanka’s anti-Rajapaksa revolt in 2022 — gathered to honour Thajudeen’s memory. His face, along with those of other victims of political violence, adorned the protest signs. For many young Sri Lankans, Thajudeen's case represents everything that is wrong with their country: a corrupt elite shielded by power, a pliant police force, and a broken justice system.
They chanted for justice. But chants are not subpoenas. Banners are not indictments.
The fate of the Wasim Thajudeen case now rests with the same state apparatus that failed him in life and betrayed him in death. His family, steadfast and dignified, continue to call for accountability. So do activists, civil society groups, and the Sri Lankan diaspora abroad.
But time is the great enemy. Witnesses forget. Files go missing. Key players die. Political winds shift. And the ghosts of Temple Trees remain comfortably ensconced behind bulletproof glass.
Wasim Thajudeen’s legacy lives on not merely because of the tragedy of his death, but because of the courage with which his case has been pursued. Journalists, CID officers, and whistleblowers who defied pressure to bury the truth deserve recognition.
Yet ultimately, only a full reckoning will honour the young man whose only crime, it seems, was to get too close to the wrong people.
Until then, the burning car on Park Road will remain an eternal symbol of Sri Lanka’s darkest truths — and its most elusive justice.
-By A Staff Writter
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by (2025-04-30 18:52:47)
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