Vavuniya, 1 June 2009:
‘They are refusing to give him work because he does not have the correct papers’.
Don’t worry amma, we will see what we can do...Yes, please wait in line, we will come to you...No, I am afraid; we will need some more proof...’
He makes his way through the overwhelming crowd with practiced ease, reassuring some, being firm when required and never once losing his calm. In the sweltering noon day heat in Vavuniya, Mohammed Ziyath gives people their identities.
Ziyath, 34, joined UNDP in March 2008 as part of the Equal Access to Justice Project. ‘I work as a District project officer’. He explains further, ‘We support the Government in their efforts to help vulnerable groups, including IDPs, returnees, and resettled communities. We also raise awareness among people by informing them of the correct procedure and even guiding them through the process.’
Ziyath explains that as a result of the conflict, migration to India became very common, especially in the 1990’s. There were about 107 welfare camps in Tamil Nadu where these communities sought shelter, waiting for a more peaceful time to return to their homeland. After the ceasefire in 2002, these families thought it safe to come back to Sri Lanka in order to resume their lives. Although happy to be back home the returnees faced a number of problems, not least of which was establishing Sri Lankan identities for their children born in India. ‘We needed to convert their Indian birth certificates to Sri Lankan certificates and thereafter apply for Sri Lankan citizenship. ‘At the end of last year we conducted mobile documentation clinics in Vavuniya and Mannar and received 400 applications just for citizenship certificates. We managed to deliver within two months’, he concludes proudly.
Ziyath remembers some of the people he helped. He tells me the story of Bala Saraswathi, a 17 year old born in a welfare centre in India. Saraswathi, named after the Hindu goddess of learning, was denied permission to sit for her school exams as she did not have the correct documents. UNDP helped Saraswathi through the process and finally, she received her Sri Lankan citizenship and her National Identity Card and was allowed to write her exams. ‘I could not believe how happy she was at the thought of being able to continue her education’, he says.
I had asked Ziyath earlier how he could bear to leave his wife and son in Trincomalee and spend his days in isolation in the North. After hearing Saraswathi’s story I could begin to understand some of the reasons.  ‘Yes, it’s difficult, I admit, but it’s not as if I don’t see them at all. I go home every two weeks to spend time with them’.
 It was purely by accident that Ziyath found himself in Vavuniya doing this work. After completing his B.A at Peradeniya University, he trained to be a lawyer at the Law Faculty in Colombo following which he joined the Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC) as a legal advisor. ‘I went to Vavuniya simply because some of my friends were working with NRC and they urged me to come’.  It was only after a couple of months in Vavuniya that Ziyath realised that this is what he wanted to do. ‘I appeared in a court case on behalf of the IDPs and returnees and realised the tremendous challenges that they go through because of the lack of documentation-finding jobs, educational opportunities even movement is restricted’.
After a little over two years with NRC, Ziyath decided to move to UNDP because he felt that at UNDP he would have new opportunities to make a difference to people’s lives because of the organization’s close partnership with the local government. Of course, there are difficulties as well. There is only one person working for the Access to Justice project in Vavuniya. ‘This sometimes creates a considerable demand on me since there are so many issues that need to be looked into.’ But Ziyath is used to challenges. ‘I wouldn’t be working here if I didn’t feel challenged’, he grins.