In the long shadows of Sri Lanka’s civil war, some stories still echo with unbearable pain. Among them is the haunting case of the “Missing 11”—eleven young Tamil men who vanished between 2008 and 2009, right in the heart of Colombo. They were sons, brothers, and students with dreams ahead of them. But they never came home. Their lives were stolen, and their parents were condemned to a lifetime of waiting.
The Night They Were Taken
These young men were not soldiers on the front lines. They were ordinary boys from families who wanted nothing more than to see them grow, learn, and live. Abducted in the final stages of the war, they were secretly transported to the Trincomalee Naval Base.
There, behind barbed wire and silence, their voices were silenced forever. No trial, no proof, no return. Only an empty chair at the family table, and the unbearable sound of unanswered questions. The eleven who went missing are remembered as: Ragihar Manoharan, T. Sathurshan, T. Kapilan, D. Johnnathan, J. Poongulalon, P. Prasanna, S. Rajeswaran, R. Kajan, K. Gokulan, V. Thinesh, and M. Diluxan
Each name carries the weight of a life cut short, a story unfinished, and a future denied.
Who Holds the Responsibility?
Every disappearance is not just a statistic; it is a crime against life itself. Senior figures within the Sri Lankan Navy have long been implicated, accused of turning their positions of trust into tools of fear and destruction. Some accounts even suggest that ransom money was demanded, reducing human lives to bargaining chips in a dark game of greed and impunity.
But the greater tragedy is that justice has been withheld. Year after year, courtrooms stall, politicians intervene, and truth is buried under layers of silence. Those who know what happened remain shielded, while parents are left to carry their grief like an unending weight.
The Value of a Life
What is the worth of a human life? For the mothers and fathers of these eleven boys, life was everything; every heartbeat of their children was a blessing. Each of them carried stories, talents, laughter, and love. Their lives mattered, and they were sacred.
War often strips people of their humanity, but the loss of the Navy 11 reminds us that every life, no matter what side of a conflict one stands on, is priceless. To rob a family of their child is to wound humanity itself.
The Parents’ Endless Vigil
Today, more than fifteen years later, the parents of the missing Navy 11 still wait. They hold faded photographs pressed against their hearts, whispering prayers that one day the truth will be spoken. They march in protests, not out of anger alone, but out of love for the boys who were denied the chance to live.
Their suffering is immeasurable, yet their resilience is extraordinary. In their grief, they teach us the deepest lesson: life is fragile, sacred, and irreplaceable.
A Plea for Remembrance
The missing Navy 11 are not forgotten. Their names, though unspoken in official circles, live in the hearts of their families and in the conscience of all who value justice. This story is not just about war or politics—it is about life itself, about the irreplaceable loss that comes when violence is allowed to erase sons and daughters from the world.
Let us honor their memory, not only by telling their story, but by standing with the parents who continue to bear their absence. To appreciate the value of life is to demand that no family should ever endure such silence again.