Dr Nihal D Amerasekera, in The Island, 6 July 2025, …where the title reads “Going through Colombo Medical School” ... with highlighting emphasis imposed y ThE Editor, Thuppahi
Some real-life experiences: I am looking at the events of the 20th century with 21st century spectacles. Hence there are no hard feelings or anger except a fervent hope the situation has changed for the better.
My first introduction to the Medical Faculty was on registration day. It started with virtual ‘road blocks’ by seniors to round up the freshers. This was the beginning of the rag to usher in the new recruits and introduce them to a new brand of nastiness, a tradition that has prevailed since the very beginning of the institution.
Photo here This infamous ritual has become more outrageous with time. This kind of harassment went on for a further fortnight after we joined. What an introduction to a supposed sanctuary of like-minded scholars!! I look back at this behaviour — a set of practices was accepted by many of the staff in the Faculty andeven encouraged by some of them.
It is the responsibility of the Vice Chancellor to stamp out ragging unless he too condoned it. Ragging has caused the death of students at Peradeniya University. I hope it is not a part of the faculty calendar anymore. I admire the stance taken by a student, Buddhadasa Bodhinayake, who stood up to those bullies and took no part in this pointless ritual.
We should move to a system available in most British universities where there is a freshers’ week. During this time there is an organized period of induction by the management and the senior students to help the newcomers to settle in.
Anatomy was taught and the dissections were done in a building that was euphemistically called the ‘Block’. Although I loved the study of anatomy, life in the Block was a nightmare. There was this need to learn the subject in such great detail which when we look back now was totally and utterly pointless. Thankfully, Dr Leicester Jayawardene was kind and reasonable.
The rest persisted in making the weekly signatures a stressful ordeal. Some tutors even enjoyed the humiliation they caused the hapless students who sat in a circle. We were surrounded by our peers waiting to grab any pearls of wisdom or to laugh at their mistakes. There was much giggling at the sarcastic comments by the tutors. That was indeed the circle of death.
Physiology and Biochemistry were taught and administered well. Prof Koch, Prof Hoover and Carlo Fonseka helped to bring some sanity onto an otherwise manic two years.
As we moved on to the third and fourth years, we gained confidence. The third year without examinations was a shelter from the turmoil and strife around me. During our holidays Nalin Nanayakkara and I went on a motorcycle journey to the central hills on his impressive red Moto Guzzi. It was a most memorable journey that will remain with me forever.
After the Block the subjects we studied seem more relevant. Prof GH Cooray, Prof HVJ Fernando, Prof Kottegoda, Prof. Chapman, Prof Abhayaratne and Prof Dissanayake were great teachers who treated the students with kindness. I admire them greatly and remember them with much affection.
Anatomy Block
In the third year we started clinical work with the stethoscopes round our necks. Whether we needed them or not it never left our collar. My first clinical appointment was with Dr Thanabalasunderam. He was a superb teacher and one of the best. He made us work hard and taught us well. His fine approach to clinical problems and their solutions has remained with me ever since.
I am ever so grateful to the Visiting Physicians of the Ragama section of the GHC for teaching me medicine. Dr Wijenaike, Dr Medonza, Dr DJ Attygalle and Dr Ernie Peiris were excellent teachers. Despite their busy schedule of ward rounds, clinics and private practice they found time to teach us clinical methods. They took great trouble to find ‘interesting patients’ with multiple clinical problems. Their efforts bore fruit as many of their students went on to be consultants in various fields of medicine with great distinction, both at home and abroad.
The surgeons who constantly deal with blood and guts had a macho image. Of the surgeons, one who will remain nameless, commanded and demanded respect. Once he was most annoyed, I didn’t stand up when he walked past me near the operating theatre. I really thought he would assault me as he raised me up by my shirt collar with my feet dangling in the air. Need I say more about such behaviour. Despite this he was a good teacher.
Dr Anthonis showed great kindness to his patients and taught his students well. Dr Niles was kind to us all and a fine tutor. His clinical classes were full of humour. He had this great ability to see the funny side of day-to-day clinical problems. It was like being at a comedy show. Darrell Weinman, the neurosurgeon, was a superb teacher. He had a special room for his ward classes which was always full to capacity. He was a showman ‘par excellence’ and taught us the whole process from history taking to examination, diagnosis and treatment with great aplomb. He was a kind man. I will not forget the concern he had for his patients.
Our clinical professors were good clinicians. They were committed to making certain that we learnt our trade well before being released to the general public. Some of their teaching methods were archaic and depended on creating an aura of fear. In the process they humiliated students and at times reduced them to tears. This was totally and utterly repulsive and unacceptable.
The total of four months I clerked with two of the professors of important subjects may have reduced my life span by a good few years. The verbal abuse and insults were relentless and damaging. Some say they would never have studied without this strict regime – now that is what I call “nonsense”. Prof Navaratne, was a notable exception. He was a kind person and never showed anger to his students. We were never terrorized or intimidated by him or his department. Didn’t we study surgery and pass the exams??
All through the five years in medical school there was this aura of fear that pervaded the corridors, wards and lecture theatres. Such an atmosphere of terror was created by a small minority of teaching staff. It amounts to bullying and psychological vandalism. This should not be tolerated in any institution. I do not think this goes on now in medical education in Sri Lanka.
Those who were bullied had no one to turn to. They were unable to complain about their ordeal. We felt nothing would be done about it even if we complained. There was always the distinct possibility of victimisation. In their fields, both professors were extremely clever and able doctors. Bullying in Universities is a recognised problem worldwide and it requires the Institution to take necessary action.
To me personally, at times, the stress that prevailed was unbearable and took its toll. Bullying destroys morale. I was at my wits end not knowing how to cope with this constant battering on a daily basis. I seldom spoke about my inner feelings. It wasn’t something I could discuss with my friends or even my parents. The result was anxiety, distress and the loss of confidence in my own ability which lasted all through my years in medical school.
I was reticent while presenting ‘clinical cases’ in the ward and at examinations where I performed poorly. It wasn’t until I emigrated to the UK that I regained my confidence. My bosses treated me with kindness and respect. They appreciated my hard work. Thankfully I enjoyed success at examinations and had a rewarding career in Radiology.
The nightmare that began as I started in the Block ended the day I passed the finals in June 1967. The relief was almost palpable. I still look back on those years with trepidation but harbour no grudges. I sincerely hope things have changed for the better.
I lament that in real life, unlike in fairy tales, stories do not always have happy endings. Thankfully, I have not been scarred for life for those traumatic five years in medical school. We were all in it together. Some withstood the pressures much better than others. What stood me in good stead was the camaraderie that existed and the friendships that I made during those gruelling years. So much time has now passed that I can maintain an emotional distance from the turmoil of the past.
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All was fine for a while. The Ceylon free education system was the envy of South Asia. But FREE is a benefit of limited life.
I remember the Ashva Vidyalaya. Thousands of undergrads housed in the Racecourse grandstands. And these SWABASHA graduates had no job prospects. When FREE education to University became possible for the ‘Rurals’ after ’56, the numbers became unmanageable and out of balance with the economy’s needs. All worked well when the system was geared primarily in favour of the English educated elites.