What a night

When the expectation is for the dam to burst, washing away everything, you wait with apprehension. Waiting for the flood to hit you, everyone and everything around you. It was with that unease that we waited on the night of the 26th, after polling closed.

We had based ourselves in Matara and another group in Vavuniya. The night was calm, the streets were empty, people were at their homes, no one wanted to step out. We were doing the usual ordinary files on how many voted, incidents, voter profiles, the run of the mill stuff.

The only real exciting thing for that day was covering President Mahinda Rajapaksa vote at the D A Rajapaksa school in Madamulene, Hambantota. For someone who was facing a tough election, Rajapaksa was extremely calm. He came with his wife and the two eldest sons Namal and Yoshita. A small but enthusiastic crowd waited for him. He spoke with them, mingled around while photographers and cameramen shoved each other, swore and cursed to a get the shot. Rajapaksa even gave the victory sign, and he had to do so for more than one occasion when a foreign photographer kept requesting him to hold the pose. It was unusual to get so close to him, given the security dragnet that travels with him like a bubble.

He was upbeat, “it is going to be a spectacular victory,” he said. Only the diehard supporters would have believed it then, but a day later, it sounded almost prophetic.

We had set up colleagues to cover his rival Sarath Fonseka cast his vote and were told that it would be sometime in the afternoon. Afternoon came and went but there was no Fonseka. Then the story broke that he may not get a chance to vote. We checked with an aide and was told that he had been a postal voter till retirement and his name was not on the list. He never got to vote at the end. The television stations went to town with it – one lot arguing that Fonseka should be barred from standing while another saying he was a legitimate candidate. It took the intervention of Elections Commissioner Dayananda Dissanayake to put an end to the cacophony.

The night was giving all the signs of turning in to a dead silent one where one could probably hear a pin drop. We decided to get some rest and everyone was dosing off in their rooms when the first call came in – ‘machang…there is something going on in Colombo, there are troops all over the place”. That was it and the lot all converged in one room.

Everyone had jumped out their slumber and that was on the story. Soon it became clear that the Cinnamon Lakeside was surrounded by armed troops and Fonseka was inside with key supporters. Government authorities did not want to speak on anything happening outside Cinnamon Lakeside. There were armed troops positioned outside the MTV office at Union Place as well. Even one wire service reported that they had been provided with Army protection. Things had hit light speed in a matter of minutes, the lap tops were beaming, phones were working and everyone was chasing after what was going on.

Colleagues were spread all over the country, most in the north. Some were returning overnight and one found it uncomfortably eerie that Colombo was besieged with troops and she was driving through Madavachchiya without as much as a glare.

Following the story in Colombo from 160 km out was difficult to say the least. But colleagues working in Colombo kept every one of us informed of what was going on, as much as they could get information.

Along with those calls, came the ones from everyone and anyone who happened to know you and who had your number. The country was starved of information, people were desperate to figure out what the hell was going on.

By about 1.00 am in the morning, as results started rolling in, Rajapaksa was establishing a lead that he maintained till the end. One by one, we started dozing off again. Too tired, and wanting some rest before what we knew was going to be a rough day. On beds laptops were switched on and kept beeping almost continuously. And every 10 minutes or so someone would get a call or an email or something. Half closed sleepy eyes would be staring at the recipient and his body language attentively.

The dam had burst, but not in the manner we had anticipated.

We had already planned to do interviews in the south on the reactions to the initial results the next day. Even by 7.00 am there were people out on the streets, not lots, but there were. They were already celebrating the Mahinda Rajapaksa victory. The overriding sense was that he will make it, and make it easy.

By then we had already heard that journalists were getting into the Cinnamon Lakeside. People we knew were already inside and relaying information as to what was going on. The decision was made to try to make it to the hotel and cover the victory celebration story on the way. It soon became one mad rush.

We were getting so much information but there was no way to get it out initially. We had started a Twitter feed only a few days back. It was in fact the idea of one of the newbies . It soon became clear that Twitter would be the best way to keep getting information out on the go. We were being fed information by those who were close to where the story was happening, it was left to the mad dashers to check, double check and send it out.

This was journalism at its purest. None of us were gaining anything from the Twitter feed, we all had our main outlets that we filed for and could have hung back. But for us what became more important was to get the information out and out fast, it was the same urgency that was conveyed to us by colleagues inside the hotel. We knew that rumours were flooding the nation and verified information, in however small packets, would be welcome.

The sense of calm on the Galle Road lasted until we drove through Slave Island and to the Cinnamon Lakeside round about, and it ended there. There were troops all over the place. There was severe checking going on vehicles going in and out, and two of us decided to make it to the hotel on foot.

The military was stern, but polite. Our credentials were checked and we were told not shoot. It was a rather awkward statement considering who held the guns. We negotiated our way to the gate and got call from within that said that the press conference by now almost 4 hr late was about to begin. We ran, through the lobby, down the stairs and passing stunned hotel patrons. On the way we passed a wedding party, rather they parted to make for two lunatics running down with cameras flying on their sides. They all looked shocked and nervous. The women were dressed at their best, their hair made and lovely sarees and jewels. But who could forget those wide eyes, a heap of those staring at you as you ran through narrow passage way.

All the running and driving for us and the waiting for others who had come to the Cinnamon Lakeside in the morning turned into absolute disappointment when Fonseka did not turn up. It was UNP’s Karu Jayasuriya and JVP’s Anura Kumara Dissnayaka who did so instead.

Fonseka did make an appearance after the election commissioner had announced the results. Wednesday night was filled with writing copy, one after the other. Sri Lanka was on the top tier of world attention and the demand for news was tremendous.

After the final edits were done and stories passed….the body all of sudden felt too heavy, the bones creaked and the eyes blurred. We had been running on adrenalin for five days and it was time to take a break.