Fuelled by the consequences of Sri Lanka’s economic crisis (and lack of fuel), thousands of Lankans have taken to the streets to protest against the current Government, calling for greater accountability, transparency, and new governance. With numerous protests taking place all over the island, arguably the largest gathering has been the peaceful ‘Occupy Colombo’ gathering taking place at Galle face Green at what has now been dubbed ‘GotaGoGama’
The ‘Occupy Colombo’ movement has been thriving since the first embers of the struggle officially began on 9 April, when Sri Lankans gathered en masse before the old Parliament building to chant ‘Go home Gota,’ demanding that all who belong to the Rajapaksa family must resign from their positions of power.
Since then, Sri Lanka, primarily Colombo and its suburbs have transformed, with the roads filled with vehicle horns sounding protest calls and smaller protests calling attention to a myriad of issues the people face.
At the centre of it all is ‘GotaGoGama’ (or GGG) and the quiet ecosystem that has emerged amidst all of the chaos. ‘GotaGoGama’ or GGG has become an interesting phenomenon that has sparked the interest of many. Amid speculation of ‘who is your leader!?’ and accusations of ‘is it a carnival, or beach party?’ everyone is intrigued by GGG.
Brunch explored GGG to understand what makes it tick, and how thousands of people from Colombo and from all corners of the island have come together to coexist in this finite space and call for change.
From dusk till dawn
Those who have visited GGG may have noticed several ‘factions’ within what is now called the protest village. There are the hardcore chanters at the barricades near the Parliament, those in the tents in front of the Galle Face pavement, and of course those in the tents placed on the patch of grass which was once, in jest, called the ‘Agitation Zone’ – a dedicated space for protestors – and has now been entirely taken over by tents housing thousands of campers occupying Galle Face.
Speaking to the protestors who witness the mechanics of GGG day in and day out, Brunch learned that not everyone occupies a tent in the Agitation Zone. While many do head on over to this space, it is primarily to access the portable toilets set up there, the collection points that distribute food, and the medical tents courtesy of the Red Cross and St. John’s Ambulance Service.
Those who chant at the barricades often sleep for a few hours right on the streets and those in the tents join the protests sporadically but carry out their own forms of protest – by conducting teach-outs, workshops, poetry readings, dramas, music sessions, etc.
Nuwan Madushanka of tent 27 said that about 20 to 25 people sleep in his tent (the earlier tents appear to have numbers on them which function as addresses for those within the occupation to share information and other necessities, though this number system has long since been abandoned with the growing number of ever-changing occupants).
“There is really no such thing as it being our tent or it belonging to this site; since we get acquainted with each other, we all just share each other’s spaces,” Nuwan said. He is learning sign language and conducts sessions at GGG to both educate the public and also to assist persons with hearing disabilities attending the protest. He shared that all of his tent-mates were complete strangers prior to 9 April but now they had spent consecutive nights together.
Notably, Nuwan shared that he had learned a lot from this experience – most importantly how to stage a protest. “The way that we all protest is different. Now in my case, I learn sign language and tomorrow I am conducting a workshop on that because there are those using sign language participating. I also have another group of people who do martial arts and our team will come and participate,” he said. “There are those who come exclusively to chant loudly at the barricade and there are those who come only to carry out silent protests with signboards. Then there are those with paintings, songs, and puppet shows. At the GGG library, they are having conversations about how the current crisis came to be and what can make things better. We are all protesting in our own ways.”
Speaking on how long some protestors demonstrate at a stretch, Nuwan said: “We go to sleep at around 4 a.m. when we get tired, but as you may understand, 20 people cannot sleep in this at once so we take turns. When we feel rested we give the opportunity to the others and sit outside the tent and have conversations.”
For the activism
Prashan Wickramasinghe, who has been at GGG since 9 April, shared that while his personal programme may vary slightly from that of the others, he and many others also follow a similar pattern of sleeping around 3 a.m. to 4 a.m. After just a couple of hours of sleep they go straight back to their day’s activities. “Some will walk over to the barricade to add to the voices; others will take stock around the campsite. We will walk around and contribute to the community here. We go to help the tents that are conducting the distributions and during the daytime, when the sun is hot, we spend time in the library.”
He added: “If someone believes that protesting is just one thing of stepping onto the streets and chanting, then they are sorely mistaken. There is a lot more to it. Here, what we know is that we do not like the current system, there is a need to educate oneself and here in our community we encourage this learning. We are a ’90s generation; we may not have experienced the worst of struggles but we have access to the past and we are driven to know. When we first came here I had no idea who was staying in the tent next to me, but now we accept food from strangers and have learned to share it with more strangers. We engage in conversation all fuelled by the one goal we all share and we will continue to grow stronger as long as we keep that one goal in mind.”
What about women at GGG?
Thisuri Amaya, one of GGG’s female protestors, said: “It is a challenging task for me as a woman staying here; it is difficult. To get washed up even, there is no polythene covering at the very least to provide a shield from the public, but we are not here looking for comforts.”
As she dried her dripping wet hair having returned from a fresh shower, Thisuri said: “Right now I just washed on the side of the street from an open pipe under a tree. We are ready to overlook all such obstacles because we are here for a clear and certain purpose and we will achieve that before we succumb to minor inconveniences.”
She also shared that the protestors had received great support from the homes in the surrounding areas, especially those in the Keselwatte area, with people there allowing them free access to their bathrooms and to even take occasional rests. “It is very expensive to pay for taxis for us to travel back and forth, so we try our best to get everything sorted here. But this community we have inspired has our backs,” she said, noting especially that even in the campsite they had no need to stand in line for food or go looking for water because the people were well taken care of, all fuelled by a common goal.
The nuts and bolts at GGG
Despite the growing crowds, GGG is pretty well organised and much of the coordination is done via WhatsApp groups, said Buwanaka Perera, who has been at GGG from the beginning, as he scrolled down what appeared to be an endless slew of WhatsApp groups counting up to some 16 groups – each dedicated to different parts of the machine that runs GGG.
He shared that they had a group for the toilets because they were rented and someone had to pay for them daily and then they had groups for food distribution because the GotaGoGama ‘gabadawa’ or the storage was at the ‘power to the people’ tent and earlier on in the protest the resources they released were not getting evenly distributed. As a result they have since set up a system to distribute incoming stocks to be shared amongst different clusters.
There’s also power at GGG courtesy of a solar-powered food truck owned by Yasantha Jayasuriya who has taken a break from his health food business to come and provide for the protestors at GGG. The solar panels have been joined by more sustainable energy sources and generators for occupants to charge their mobile phones and other electronics. Then there is a newly-set-up shower courtesy of Nalaka Narammala, a popular character at the site who has been instrumental in much of the technical setups at GGG.
A well-oiled machine
All of these facilities, including the semi-permanent structures like the library with its ever-expanding collection of books, the legal aid tent, and the GGG open air theatre, represent the cogs of what appears to be a well-oiled machine that has come to be organically fuelled almost entirely by a burning passion and a shared objective.
The scale of GGG is unprecedented and not just in the context of people protesting for change, but in the sheer scale of public assembly and the organic growth of all the different elements that it takes to sustain such a large group of people in one place for an extended period. It is an interesting study of how, even at the most basic level, infrastructure can and does grow around communities coming together for a common purpose.
