How Do These Factories Keep Running So Long?
Another week, another shock discovery — this time in the heart of Hambantota. What looked like just another quiet apartment complex turned out to be a crystal methamphetamine (ICE) lab. The Kalutara Crimes Investigations Division raided the site and walked out with 14 cans holding 52 litres of chemical brews, a stack of suspicious apparatus, and even a getaway vehicle parked neatly outside.
A 20-year-old youth — no stranger to the underworld — was nabbed on the spot. His alleged links trace back to Wellawaya’s “Suranga,” a name whispered in both police circles and night-time gossip networks.
But the question on everyone’s lips is not just who got caught. It’s how these operations survive so long without being noticed.
Location, location, location: From Kandana to Nuwara Eliya, the labs pop up in unassuming apartments and farmhouses. Who would think a sleepy tea town or a coastal flat is cooking ICE instead of dinner?
Weak surveillance: Police stumble upon these factories often after overseas arrests, as in Indonesia. By then, operations may have run for months or even years.
Underworld links: Small-time players are often just pawns in bigger networks that stretch beyond Sri Lanka’s borders. These gangs know how to bribe, threaten, and blend in.
Neighbours in silence: Equipment comes in quietly, and chemical smells are masked. Residents may suspect but rarely report. Fear of reprisal keeps lips sealed.
This is not the first raid, nor will it be the last. Each lab busted seems to raise new questions: Are the authorities always one step behind? Or is someone, somewhere, choosing to look the other way?
For now, Hambantota joins the growing map of Sri Lanka’s “ICE belt” — a chilling reminder that paradise can be a convenient cover for dangerous trades.