Saaratha Iruthayanathar was just three years old when she last saw her father leave to buy groceries during the Sri Lankan civil war. To this day, she remains uncertain about his fate. In November 1990, while traveling by boat to the Jaffna mainland with a group of 12, her father was arrested by the Sri Lankan Navy. "The grief of not knowing what happened to him is beyond words," Ms. Iruthayanathar said. Her father disappeared during the conflict between the Sri Lankan government and the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam, known as the Tamil Tigers, who sought an independent state in the north and east of the country until their defeat in 2009.

The navy informed her family that her father was alive when they returned his belongings shortly after his arrest. "They told us that the people whose belongings were sent back to their families were alive," she recalled. Among the items returned were two pomegranates, some oil cans, and dried roses from their garden. Despite this, Ms. Iruthayanathar's mother found no evidence that her husband was still alive. She spent 16 years searching for answers, filing complaints with various organizations, including the Office of the Presidential Commission of Sri Lanka and the Red Cross, but received no responses.

The United Nations reports that Sri Lanka has the second-highest number of enforced disappearances globally. Amnesty International estimates that there have been at least 60,000 cases, with some estimates reaching as high as 100,000 since the 1980s. Since the civil war ended, 20 mass graves have been discovered across the country, but investigations have rarely provided meaningful answers, leaving families in a state of uncertainty.

When Ms. Iruthayanathar learned about a recent mass grave discovery in Sri Lanka, she could not bear to look at the photos. "Sometimes people forget that these were real people … someone's mother, father, child or friend," she said. Archaeologists have been excavating a site in Chemmani, near Jaffna, for the past four months, uncovering 240 human skeletons, including those of neonates and children. The excavation serves as a stark reminder of the unaccounted victims and has reignited calls for international investigations into enforced disappearances in Sri Lanka.

United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, Volker Türk, visited the Chemmani site in June and emphasized the need for "decisive action," warning Sri Lanka against falling into another "impunity trap."

For Sri Lankan Tamils, the discovery of mass graves highlights a history of failed accountability and unresolved tragedies. Ranitha Gnanarajah, a lawyer overseeing the excavations and representing over 250 families of the missing, has urged the government to establish standard procedures for investigating mass graves and to implement a DNA database for victim identification. "Currently, there is no DNA system in place to identify the victims and return them to their loved ones," she stated.

Ambika Satkunanathan, a human rights lawyer and former commissioner of the National Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka, noted that the country lacks the forensic resources and legal frameworks necessary for proper investigations. She called for international assistance and expertise in forensic anthropology, drawing parallels with mass grave excavations in Guatemala and Argentina.

Leeladevi Nadarajah, president of the Mothers and Fathers of Enforced Disappearances in Kilinochchi, has protested outside the Office of Missing Persons for over 3,000 days since her son went missing in 2009. She described her experience with authorities as one where she was treated like a suspect rather than a victim's family member. Despite a change in government last year, Gnanarajah reported that families of the missing continue to face intimidation from the Criminal Investigation Department.

"Families of the missing are harassed, surveilled, and intimidated to prevent them from speaking out and participating in the investigation process," she said. Satkunanathan emphasized that the investigation process would fail if victims are not consulted and do not trust the authorities. She also highlighted the need for urgent reforms to the Office of Missing Persons, which has faced criticism for being biased and state-controlled.

The new president, Anura Kumara Dissanayake, has promised to address Tamil grievances and ensure a transparent investigation into the Chemmani site. However, Gnanarajah expressed skepticism about the progress of reforms and accountability for war crimes. "Rulers change but practices stay the same," she said.

Victims' families and human rights organizations have repeatedly called for international mechanisms to monitor Sri Lanka's accountability efforts, but the government has consistently rejected these requests. The Dissanayake administration claims it will address human rights challenges through domestic means.

Sri Lankan Tamils in Australia are advocating for stronger action, urging the Australian government to support international investigations into mass graves and impose travel bans on military officers implicated in war crimes. Meenakshi Ganguly, Human Rights Watch's deputy Asia director, stated that Australia could leverage its relationship with Sri Lanka to push for international monitoring.

In a statement, a spokesperson for the Australian Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade affirmed the government's commitment to justice and accountability for victims of human rights violations during Sri Lanka's civil war.

Back in Melbourne, Saaratha Iruthayanathar remains hopeful that the global attention on Chemmani will lead to closure for families like hers. Her father will turn 77 this year, and she continues to hold out hope that he is alive. "Until I see that my Appa [father] is dead, I will continue to say he is missing no matter how old he is," she said.