War, memory and healing

How the conflict began

After independence in 1948, tensions grew between the Sinhala majority and the Tamil minority over language, education, land and political power. Laws such as the 1956 Official Language Act left many Tamils feeling shut out. Over time, peaceful protest gave way to armed groups, the largest being the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE).

In July 1983, anti-Tamil riots in Colombo and elsewhere killed hundreds of people and destroyed thousands of homes and businesses. Many mark “Black July” as the start of the full war, which lasted until May 2009.

Every community suffered

Tamil civilians in the North and East lived through shelling, displacement, disappearances and checkpoints for decades. Sinhala civilians were killed in bombings and attacks on villages, buses and public places, and young soldiers on all sides died. Tamil-speaking Muslims were forced out of the North in 1990 and also lost lives in the East. Southern Sinhala communities had already lived through the violent JVP uprisings of 1971 and 1987–89.

Naming this pain is not about choosing a side. It is about honouring every person who grieved.

The final months, 2009

In the last months of the war, hundreds of thousands of civilians were trapped in a shrinking strip of land in the Vanni. A United Nations Panel of Experts (2011) found credible allegations of serious violations by both the government forces and the LTTE, and reported that a number of sources estimated as many as 40,000 civilian deaths. A later UN investigation (OHCHR, 2015) reached similar conclusions. Exact numbers are still debated, and many families still do not know what happened to loved ones who went missing.

Coming to Canada

From the mid-1980s, tens of thousands of Tamils fled to Canada, many as refugees. Today the Greater Toronto Area is home to one of the largest Tamil communities outside South Asia. Many arrived having lost homes, family members and years of schooling — then had to start over in a new language, often working long hours in jobs far below their training.

How war lives on in the mind and body

Researchers who have worked with Tamil communities in Sri Lanka and Toronto describe high levels of trauma, grief and depression — and also “collective trauma”, where whole families and villages lose trust, routines and a sense of safety. Studies of Tamil refugees in Toronto found that many had experienced war-related trauma, yet few sought mental health care, often because of stigma, language barriers or not knowing help existed.

Trauma can also pass quietly to children. A review of refugee families found that parents’ trauma is often linked to children’s anxiety, depression and family stress — not because anyone did wrong, but because pain that is never spoken still shapes a home.

• Nightmares, startling easily, or avoiding news and reminders
• Body pain, headaches, poor sleep or a “heavy heart” with no clear cause
• Anger, numbness, or not being able to talk about the past
• Grief that never ended, especially for the missing

Healing is possible

Trauma-focused therapy, community support, faith, and simply being heard all help. You do not have to retell everything to get better. If these memories are weighing on you, try the “Carrying hard memories” check-in, or reach out to a Tamil-speaking counsellor.