1 day Ago By Thilina Walpola
With heavy hearts, we share the passing of our dear neighbor, mentor, and cherished friend, Raja Uncle — known formally as Mr. Rajapaksha — who passed away peacefully on April 1, 2025, at the age of 89. For over 50 he was a constant and beloved presence in our community — someone whose actions spoke louder than words, and whose kindness left a mark on every life he touched.
Gentle in spirit, firm in values, and endlessly thoughtful, he helped shape the heart of Bogahawatta with his humility, quiet strength, and unwavering dedication. He carried himself with grace and dignity — slim, well-groomed, and strikingly handsome, with a calm confidence that made people feel at ease. He never tried to be a person who gave orders — instead, he led through respect, active listening, and thoughtful action.
His leadership was never loud — it was steady, consistent, and deeply human. A founding member of the Bogahawatta Welfare Society, Raja Uncle gave more than 40 years of devoted service to the betterment of the Bogahawatta community. In the 1980s, as the area grew and safety became a concern, he established the neighborhood watch, restoring trust and unity in a time of change.
He organized road cleaning and repair efforts, worked alongside neighbors, and played a vital role in the construction of the Bogahawatta Welfare Society headquarters, which stands today as a symbol of unity and progress. He also cared deeply for everyday needs. For nearly 20 years, before running water was available, the community well was a lifeline.
When it fell into disrepair, Raja Uncle would quietly take the responsibility to clean and maintain it, asking for no recognition. I had the honor of helping him at times, and I saw the pride and purpose behind every quiet act. When I served as president of the local youth society, he became my mentor.
With his help, we organized a talent show, community art exhibition, built a mini library, and gave young people opportunities to lead. His daughter Tharanga, the society’s secretary, worked beside him — a reflection of the values he passed on. He also shaped my personal journey.
He introduced me to a temple, and gently guided me toward a spiritual life I still hold close today. He was our protector. If a stranger walked down our lane, he would calmly and respectfully inquire about their purpose, ensuring the safety of every home and child.
During a heated argument in my youth, he stood nearby for over an hour, silently watching until it ended, and then walked me home. He didn’t lecture. He didn’t judge.
He simply cared. Every April, without fail, he was the Master of Ceremonies at the Sinhala and Tamil New Year festival. His voice, his presence, and his joyful warmth brought the entire community together in celebration year after year.
In times of sorrow, he led with compassion. He would gather neighbors to visit grieving families, sometimes traveling great distances, and delivered eloquent eulogies that offered comfort and honored lives with dignity. What truly set Raja Uncle apart was his love — especially the remarkable bond he shared with his wife.
Their marriage was the most loving I have ever witnessed. They were the love of each other’s lives — gentle, respectful, and unwavering. He never raised his voice.
They never let conflict come between them. Their partnership was built on trust, affection, and shared values. In July 1980, as public servants, the two of them stood together in protest against unjust government layoffs.
They both lost their jobs, but they stood by their beliefs. They started a business together, overcame hardship side by side, and were eventually reinstated. In time, Mrs.
Rajapaksha rose to a top-level position in Sri Lanka’s Department of Immigration and Emigration — a testament to her brilliance and their shared resilience. They raised their children in a home of dignity and purpose. In a country where less than five percent were admitted to university at the time, all three — Tharanga, Lahiru, and Lasitha — were accepted.
A rare and proud achievement rooted in hard work and love. His family grew across the world — Lasitha became a British citizen, and Lahiru a citizen of Australia. Raja Uncle visited them often, maintaining the same closeness and warmth across any distance.
And perhaps the most remarkable of all: he helped lead a place that was once a quiet, forested area in the 1970s into a thriving, respected neighborhood — one so valued that even a Defense Secretary of Sri Lanka chose to make it his home. This was not the work of ambition, but of vision and service — built slowly, over decades, through trust and integrity. To me, as his next-door neighbor, he was one of the most steady and trusted influences in my life.
He showed me that a meaningful life isn’t defined by what we achieve — but by how we treat others, what we give, and how we listen. I shaped my life after him. Although I haven’t been as closely associated with him since leaving Sri Lanka in 2000 and becoming a citizen of the United States, his memory has remained with me every step of the way.
These are just a few of the memories I carry — as much as I can recall. I still wish, from the bottom of my heart, that he could be my neighbor forever — to guide me, to listen, to share his quiet vision. He touched so many lives, across generations.
There are countless stories, small and great, that live on in the hearts of those who knew him. His presence will be remembered not only through words, but in the community he shaped, the values he carried, and the lives he quietly uplifted over these 50+ years. May his soul rest in peace, and may we carry forward the spirit he lived by — humility, strength, compassion, and quiet dedication — just as Raja Uncle did, every single day of his extraordinary life.
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