Corruption Reunion 2025: When Crooks Cry

If irony could be bottled, we’d have enough exports to pay off the IMF in coconuts.

In a stunning display of unity, hypocrisy, and unintentional comedy, a grand reunion of Sri Lanka’s most allegedly corrupt politicians took place this week under the noble banner of “Democracy is Dying (Because We’re Getting Arrested).” The unexpected arrest of former President and “Mr. Foreign Trip 2023,” Ranil Wickremesinghe, has thrown the usual suspects into full panic mode so much so that they’ve forgotten who betrayed whom, who promised to jail whom, and who danced for whom.

Let’s start with Mahinda Rajapaksa, the seasoned orator who once thundered at campaign rallies, “Mama Ranilta Andanawa Jumpare!” (I will jail Ranil!). Fast forward to today, and he’s now sending fruit baskets and heartfelt wishes to the man he once promised to throw behind bars. Apparently, Mahinda’s memory is now shorter than Sri Lanka’s power cuts in 2022.

And then there’s Namal “TikTok Tango” Rajapaksa, son of the lion, but with the political depth of a shampoo ad. Last seen kaawadi dancing in a street protest against the arrest of the very man his father called a national traitor, Namal now appears to be testing a new career in interpretive dance therapy. His protest moves were so fluid that some mistook it for a launch event of his new fitness brand, “Bond Busters Bootcamp.”

Let us not forget Maithripala Sirisena, the backdoor specialist and self-declared Mr. Clean. This is the same man who, in 2018, handed the Prime Minister’s chair to Mahinda through a constitutional backflip so bold, Olympic judges are still reviewing the scorecards. Today, he’s on the streets yelling about democracy as if he didn’t try to hijack it with a three-wheeler and a forged letter.

Meanwhile, the real queen of spicy quotes, putty mouth Hirunika Premachandra, once swore she would cut off one of her ears if Ranil ever saw the inside of a jail cell. Well… where’s the ear, Hirunika? We’re waiting. Or was that just another dramatic monologue for your future Derena docuseries, “Politics and Plastic Promises”?

And now, enter Dilith Jayaweera, Sri Lanka’s very own motivational meme, who challenged the government to arrest him “even for one hour” if the system has really changed. Be careful what you wish for, Dilith. The CID is taking notes, and the remand cell has just been deep-cleaned. Now we heard they are investigating an inside trading scam lately.

But wait, enter stage left, Sajith Premadasa, the eternal “Opposition Leader-in-Residence,” and son of a president, who once broke away from the UNP in dramatic fashion because Daddy Ranil wouldn’t give him the leadership badge. For years, Sajith made a hobby out of screaming from his lungs that AKD and Ranil were secretly playing political pillow talk. Fast forward to 2025, and Sajith is now sobbing on live TV, demanding Ranil’s release like a jilted ex at a political soap opera reunion.

We’re also hearing whispers, more like loud political gossip, about an investigation into Sajith’s time with the Cultural Affairs Fund, which may have had more vanishing acts than a Colombo magician. So if things keep heading this way, Sajith might soon be performing at the next cultural event… from a remand cell near you.

And perhaps the most comical part of all, after their tear-soaked, righteousness-drenched press conference, they refused to take any questions from the media. Not one.
Can’t blame them, really.
How can they answer questions when every answer leads back to a missing file, a fake invoice, or a cousin in Dubai?

But here’s the question every Sri Lankan is asking:

Where was this sudden union of saints when the country was collapsing into bankruptcy?
Were they holding hands then? Dancing on the street? Demanding accountability?

No. They were hiding, in London, in Dubai, on yachts, pigeon island or holding press conferences about why it wasn’t their fault. When people stood in queues for fuel, gas, and baby formula, these very same people were counting their offshore accounts and importing more Prado jeeps.

And where was this loud choir of conscience when the Easter Bomb attacks happened in 2019?
Not a peep. Not a march. Not even a candlelight vigil that didn’t have cameras. Instead, we got cover-ups, missing phone calls, and a president “forgetting” national security briefings while chasing bees in Polonnaruwa.

Let’s call it what it is: mass diarrhea.
Not the metaphorical kind. The real, pants-wetting fear of people who’ve spent decades thinking they were untouchable, suddenly realizing the jail bars are made of actual metal and not metaphorical shame.

These folks aren’t protesting against injustice.
They’re protesting because, for the first time in recent history, justice doesn’t seem to care about their last names, fake titles, or media stunts. They’re in full panic because Ranil, the OG master of survival, six-time PM, veteran of 23 foreign trips, and the guy who probably has more diplomatic ties than shoes, has finally tripped over his own taxpayer-funded briefcase.

And guess what?
The public isn’t buying the crocodile tears this time. These politicians, who once laughed off accusations while sipping imported whiskey and signing unsolicited MOUs, are now frantically tweeting about “witch hunts” from their lawyer’s waiting rooms.

If this government keeps arresting the “untouchables,” we might need to build a whole new Parliament… next to the prison.

Final Thought:
This is not the union of heroes.
This is the last supper of crooks, caught in their own web, trying to play victim while the nation finally dares to ask:
“Where the hell were you when we actually needed you?”