In Sri Lanka, humans and elephants are locked in a deadly standoff

Clad in his khaki wildlife officer’s uniform, Dewagiri Mudiyanselage Thilakaratne Bandara, 48, leaves home for the short trip to repair the electric fence — the only thing standing between his village and some 100 wild elephants in the nearby forest reserve.

    The fence runs alongside the Siyambalangamuwa tank, a reservoir that elephants, corralled into an ever-shrinking patch of habitat, try to swim across to reach villages in search of food.

    The roughly 2,000 families here are on the front line of one of the worst human-elephant conflicts in the world. 

    Sri Lanka records the highest number of elephant deaths annually and the second-highest number of human deaths from the conflict.

    Since 2019, an average of 370 elephants and 125 people have been killed each year. In 2025, the country recorded a record 397 wild elephant deaths, according to Department of Wildlife Conservation data. Of those, 71 were shot, 56 were electrocuted by poorly maintained fences and power lines, and 46 were killed in train collisions.

    It’s a complicated relationship. Sri Lankans have deep cultural ties to elephants, parading them in colorful temple festivals. The animals are a mainstay of the island’s $4 billion tourism industry, and owning one remains a status symbol.

    Bandara grew up living alongside elephants. He knows firsthand how devastating an encounter can be.

    Last December, an elephant wandered into his backyard to eat mangoes and attacked him, breaking his leg in three places and dislocating his shoulder.

    His wife, Rathnayake Mudiyanselage Shirani Ratnayake, 48, rushed to help and was also trampled. Her right leg had to be amputated. She is now wheelchair-bound.

    “Our lives are now completely different from before the elephant attack. My wife and I used to do everything together. We used to farm together. But all of those activities have been disrupted. Now we must look after her and the mental strain of that is something we both feel,” Bandara said, standing outside his half-built home.

    They wake at 4 a.m. to cook together and get their two sons ready for school. Bandara then joins his team of a dozen others to repair the 14 km (8.9 miles) electric fence.

    Like him, hundreds of families have had to adapt their lives around elephants. The local school starts 30 minutes after the national start time of 7:30 a.m. and ends later. 

    Villagers avoid leaving for work early in the morning when elephants are most active. Weddings and funerals end early so people can get home safely.

    Bandara and his neighbours share updates on elephant movements in a WhatsApp group. When an elephant appears, they gather to chase it away by shouting and lighting firecrackers, and help take the injured to the nearest hospital. But there is no end in sight.

    “Twenty years ago, we didn’t have this situation because across from the tank there were large forests, but they were eventually cleared and then the elephants started moving closer and that’s how this village started being affected,” Bandara said.

    “When we were little, we had to go to a corner of the tank to see elephants. Now at night, the elephants come to see us.”

    Bandara wants to see an end to forest clearing, often done for farming, and better reforestation programs, but little is happening at scale. Sri Lanka’s forest cover has plummeted from about 70% in the 1920s to around 16% today.

    As much as 70% of Sri Lanka’s estimated 7,451 wild elephants now live outside protected areas. The population is also growing, up 27% from a decade ago, according to the latest census.

    All of it has pushed people and elephants closer together, with drastic consequences for both.

    “I do not feel any hatred towards the animal. He was hungry because of the activities of us humans. I understand that the animals are fighting because of human behaviour,” Bandara said.

    “I see this situation more as karma that my wife and I must endure. What will I get by hating that animal? It is innocent.”

(Camera: Channa Kumara, Thilina Kaluthotage; Editing & Production: Waruna Karunatilake, Adib Satikin; Editing, Production & Writing: Daniel Lim; Writing: Uditha Jayasinghe)