Sri Lanka’s energy sector is now mired in a scandal so blatant that it has stripped away any remaining pretence of clean governance. The importation and continued use of substandard coal at the Norochcholai power plant has exposed not only a grave abuse of public funds but also a deeper moral failure at the highest level of government. At the centre of this unfolding crisis stands Energy Minister Kumara Jayakody, whose continued occupation of office has provoked widespread outrage and sharpened calls for his immediate resignation—or removal—if even a trace of conscience remains.
The allegations are neither new nor ambiguous. On August 21, Opposition MP D.V. Chanaka first revealed in Parliament that coal had been imported for Norochcholai by bypassing accepted procurement procedures. The coal, according to these disclosures, failed to meet required standards, raising serious concerns about plant safety, environmental damage, and massive financial loss to the state. Samagi Jana Balawegaya MP Ajith Perera warned at the time that if the allegations were true, the scandal amounted to corruption exceeding a billion dollars. He argued that such a transaction could not have occurred without ministerial responsibility and demanded full disclosure to Parliament.
MP Chanaka later tabled the relevant gazette notification approving the coal imports and stated that investigations had already begun. The chairman of the state institution involved resigned, reportedly admitting that the transaction could not be justified. Yet accountability stopped there. The political leadership remained untouched, and the scandal was quietly pushed aside as the country headed toward parliamentary elections.
Those elections, held in November, brought the JVP/Malima alliance to power with an overwhelming two-thirds majority. The victory was built on soaring promises of a corruption-free, transparent, and accountable government. President Anura Kumara Dissanayake assured the nation that no one in his camp was tainted by corruption. That declaration rang hollow almost immediately when he appointed his close associate, Kumara Jayakody, as Minister of Energy—a figure already burdened by a troubling past.
Jayakody had lost his position at the Sri Lanka Fertilizer Corporation in 2015 over a corrupt transaction involving more than Rs. 8 million. He later entered Parliament through the National List. In recent months, reports have indicated that the Commission to Investigate Allegations of Bribery or Corruption is preparing to file a case against him over that very scandal. Despite this, he was entrusted with one of the most sensitive portfolios in government, responsible for billions in public expenditure and critical national infrastructure.
Under Jayakody’s watch, the importation of the disputed coal resumed after being delayed during the election period. More than a year after the new government took office, the scandal returned to Parliament with renewed force. On January 8, MP D.V. Chanaka again presented evidence that enormous sums had been wasted on substandard coal and warned that burning it posed serious environmental and health risks to the people living around Norochcholai.
What the government initially dismissed as opposition rhetoric soon became impossible to deny. The Ministry of Environment itself admitted that the use of substandard coal had caused environmental damage in the Norochcholai area. Deputy Minister Anton Jayakody publicly acknowledged concerns about the coal’s sulfur content and confirmed that environmental harm had occurred. His statements effectively validated what critics had been saying for months: the damage is real, ongoing, and preventable.
Yet despite this admission, the coal continues to be used. The power plant continues to burn fuel that damages machinery, pollutes the environment, and endangers public health. The government speaks vaguely of “future action,” while the losses mount daily. This is not indecision; it is wilful negligence.
Parliamentary scrutiny has also exposed a disturbing lack of seriousness. On February 3, Energy Minister Jayakody told Parliament that if coal shipments did not meet standards, the government would abandon the supplier and seek Cabinet approval for emergency purchases. He did not explain who would bear the loss of rejected coal, what would happen to unusable stock, or how quality standards could be enforced under emergency procurement procedures that bypass tenders altogether. Opposition MPs, astonishingly unprepared, failed to press him on these critical points.
The emphasis on emergency purchases is particularly alarming. Such mechanisms allow the state to buy goods at open-market prices without competitive bidding, a process historically associated with abuse and inflated costs. By normalising emergency procurement, the minister is effectively arguing for a system where public money can be spent at any price, with minimal scrutiny and no clear accountability. It is a license for exploitation, not governance.
Environmentalists warn that as long as the substandard coal remains in use, the damage will continue—to the power plant, to air quality, to water sources, and to the health of surrounding communities. Residents fear long-term consequences that cannot be reversed by token compensation or bureaucratic assurances. The government’s track record offers little comfort; past victims of environmental disasters have often received empty promises rather than meaningful redress.
Responsibility for this catastrophe cannot be diffused across institutions or buried under technical language. Political accountability begins with the minister in charge. Kumara Jayakody and senior officials who authorised and executed the coal imports must be held fully responsible for the billions of rupees wasted, the environmental harm caused, and the compensation owed to affected citizens. Recovering public funds from those responsible is not vindictive; it is the bare minimum required to restore credibility.
There is little expectation that Jayakody will resign voluntarily. Sri Lankan politics has long been marked by a shameless refusal to accept responsibility, even in the face of overwhelming evidence. Ministers accused of corruption routinely cling to office, exploiting state power to delay investigations and exhaust public outrage. This case appears no different.
That is why the burden now falls on the President, Parliament, and society at large. If the President is serious about clean governance, he must remove the Energy Minister immediately. If Parliament is serious about oversight, it must demand accountability rather than debate prices and procedures. And if citizens are serious about protecting their environment and public resources, they must apply sustained pressure beyond party lines.
The Norochcholai coal scandal is no longer just about fuel quality or procurement rules. It is about whether Sri Lanka will continue to tolerate leaders who waste public money, damage the environment, and refuse to step aside out of basic decency. A minister with conscience would have resigned already. The fact that this has not happened tells its own story.
