Life after A.F. Jones, marriage and separation

(Excerpted from the autobiography of Merrill. J. Fernando)

Having severed my connections with AF Jones, I gave myself a respite from an intense work life, literally a dawn to dusk grind, which I had sustained almost on a daily basis, over several years. In view of the nature of my disengagement from AFJ, I also took the precaution of advising all our customers around the world that I had dealt with, of the circumstances that led to my departure. Many responded to me, expressing their dissatisfaction with the manner in which they were being serviced after my exit.

There were also requests for me to return to AFJ with the assurance that I would be permitted to operate without any interference. However I did not consider that even for a moment,

During this rather troubled period, I was administered another shock, by a letter from the Inland Revenue Department, enclosing a punitive assessment for Rs. 50,000 in additional taxes coupled with a directive impounding my passport.

A close friend investigated the matter on my behalf and advised that the department had been sent a set of documents, relating to a personal investment of 600 pounds in shares in the UK; hence the assessment. I immediately realized how the file had got into the hands of the Inland Revenue.

A lady secretary at the American Embassy was the tenant of my ground floor flat and paid me a dollar rent, which I credited to a UK bank account.

From these funds I had invested in Ceylon tea estate company shares in the UK Stock Exchange. Joe Silva, a communist agitator who had created many problems at AFJ, had apparently, on the instructions of Nadesan, my supposed friend, sent an anonymous letter to the Exchange Controller, alleging that I had overseas investments. When the Exchange Controller requested me to submit details of such investment, I showed the documents to Nadesan, who drafted a reply on my behalf. He also kept in his custody the related file of documents – for safekeeping, he said – and it was that file which had found its way to the Inland Revenue.

However, Mr. Mithrasena, the Inland Revenue official who inquired into the matter, was quite satisfied with my explanation regarding the overseas account. He also assisted me in obtaining my statutory dues from the company, by ordering the company to immediately remit the relevant funds to the Inland Revenue, which he released to me soon thereafter.

During this period I had a couple of offers from companies overseas, including one in the United States of America, the latter through a friend of mine, to join his company as a partner. However, I was still passionate about the tea industry in Ceylon and, despite the disappointment with AFJ, I was determined to continue with the tea export business.

Another beginning – Merrill J. Fernando & Co. Ltd.

S_ I. Jafferjee of Jafferjee Brothers, an old and well-established family tea export company, was my good friend and had been very supportive at me during my disputes with the AFJ Board. No sooner I severed my active connection with AFJ, he invited me to join him in his business. I was grateful to him for his offer, but instead, in 1962, I launched a small company of my own, ‘Ceylon Tea Exports,’ operating out of the Jafferjee Brothers’ offices and also using their tea facilities.

The business grew steadily until a major strike by the workers of Jafferjee Brothers disrupted my operations as well. My personal appeals to the strike leaders failed to resolve the issues in contention, even though I went to the extent of visiting their homes to discuss the matter.

Finally, after discussion with “SI,” I moved out of the Jafferjee premises and set up my office at 188, Vauxhall Street, Colombo. At the same time, I also rented warehousing from S. H. Moosajee & Co, at Rs. 15 a square foot. That location is today Park Street Mews, home to a few upscale restaurants. The business of Ceylon Tea Exports was transferred to Merrill J. Fernando Company, which I had set up in 1962.

The beneficial impact of Mr. Gash’s (of National and Grindlays Bank) interventions in my business life were such that I always considered him to have been sent by God! He financed all my operations with the utmost confidence, even when business circumstances were unfavourable. In one instance, during a strike period which held up tea shipments, causing cash flows to dwindle, I visited the bank to seek temporary bridging finance, over and above the normal operational funding. However, his two assistants dissuaded me from going to Gash with my request as they were of the view that he would be placed in a difficult situation.

Seeking an alternative, I walked across to Eastern Bank — today Standard Chartered Bank — and submitted my request to its Head, Peter Bolander who, at our frequent social meetings, would solicit business from me. He asked for time to look up his rule book and then agreed to give me a substantial overdraft facility. When Gash’s assistants heard about my discussions with Bolander, they asked me not to mention my new relationship with the Eastern Bank as that would upset Gash!

Subsequently, I was compelled to take my business away from Grindlays, as its Head Office in Calcutta had taken up the position that I was over-trading and, hence, constituted a risk to the bank. Though Gash and his senior managers explained to their supervisors in Calcutta that I carried out a very efficient operation, in which the product was converted to cash much faster than in any other similar operation, the Calcutta office refused to change its view. By the time I reluctantly moved my business out of Grindlays Mr. Gash had also retired.

Messrs. Gunatilleke and Kularatne at People’s Bank solicited my business, even offering to finance the settling of my old debts, apparently a concession which they normally did not extend to other businessmen. However, I had to decline their kind offer as Grindlays arranged with Hatton National Bank to take over my account and its then Head, Mr. Dharmarajah, offered me the same generous terms extended to me by Grindlays. At Hatton National I dealt with L. S. D. “Bill” Peiris, a very sensible and fair-minded banker, with whom I enjoyed an excellent business relationship.

At that time most banks employed a cumbersome system to lend funds against export orders. This did not suit my operational style and I proposed to the bank a different system which also provided adequate protection to the bank, in the case of non-performance on my part. I gave Bill Peiris a weekly statement of confirmed orders with the corresponding funding requirements and that was accepted by him.

However, whilst I diligently honoured all my commitments to the bank, I had serious disagreements with one executive, the late Gaston Gunawardene, who was in actual fact an administrator and not a banker. His criticism of and intrusion into my operations were so frequent and vexing that I finally moved out of Hatton National, despite Dharmarajah’s appeals for me to stay on. I had to explain to him that I found it impossible to work with Gunawardene.

This depressing reliance on institutional funding for one’s operations taught me another useful lesson, very early in my life as a single entrepreneur – to build a strong cash base which would minimize dependence on loan and overdraft assistance which, even at their most beneficial, are still exploitative. I became frugal in my expenditure, saved as much as possible, and exercised great selectivity in my investments.

As a result of prudent cash and investment management, within a couple of decades I was able to build up substantial savings. The latter, invested in gilt-edged securities, provided me the stability to view funding assistance for my operations as a matter of choice and gave me the ability to fund any new business initiative from the revenue generated by my own operations.

Marriage and family

In 1964, I married Devika Jayawickrema, who came from a politically-prominent southern family. Her father, Major Montague Jayawickrema, was a proprietary planter and land-owner in the south. He had also been an active politician since 1936 and had represented the Weligama electorate on several occasions, between 1952 and 1987. He had been the Minister of Transport and Public Works from 1952-1956 and, later, from 1977-1987, the Minister of Public Administration, Home Affairs, and Plantation Industries.

Devika had been raised in a family environment in which the main preoccupations were politics and public service. As a result, the deeply-entrenched family cohesiveness and religiosity, which were both the defining features and overarching influences of my upbringing, were absent from her persona. Her outlook and worldview had been fashioned in a family ambience in which interpersonal relationships, attachments, and obligations were not as deep as in mine. These sharply-contradictory features in our respective personalities and value systems had their impact later on in our relationship.

At the time of my marriage I was living in a comfortable apartment on Turret Road and I planned to continue to live there. However, my new father-in-law was very insistent that I move into a fully-furnished home he had built for his daughter. In fact, he went to the extent of sending a few of my friends, including Bennet Medonza, to persuade me to move into this house, which was located between his house and that of Kishani, his second daughter. Finally I conceded to his appeals and moved in, but surprisingly found that instead of the fully-furnished home I was told to expect, it had only a refrigerator. I furnished it very satisfactorily on my own though.

Children arrive

Our eldest, Malik, was born on February 6, 1966, followed by Dilhan on May 29, 1968. Very early on I found out that Devika’s concept of parenting was quite different from mine, the latter fashioned within a strict Catholic upbringing, a composite of dedicated parental care on the one hand and the equally compelling response by the child on the other. The dictates of the religion that they were born to governed every aspect of my parents’ lives, even in the home. Other distractions, whether social or professional and however attractive or demanding, were not permitted to affect those responsibilities.

Thus, I evaluated Devika’s handling of our two children against the backdrop of my personal childhood experiences. During this period I was also deeply involved in my growing business, which, despite my commitment in both time and effort, was still beset by a number of operational problems. Given those circumstances, perhaps I expected a greater contribution from Devika in regard to the children, to offset any possible limitations on my part on account of the demands of my business. In short, I expected our two sons to be brought up in the same way I was raised in my parents’ home.

Eventually, my decision to end the relationship was made on the basis that the raising of my children, according to my perceptions of what was best for them, was not possible within the context of my marriage.

Separation

I purchased a comfortable and modern two-storeyed house at 61, Jawatte Road, soon after which I made a quick business trip to Europe. I was quite surprised when Devika followed me to London, possibly at the urging of her parents with advice to mend fences. However, regretfully, I advised her that my mind was made up and that she needed to chart her own course for the future.

On my return to Sri Lanka I refurbished the new home and soon settled into it, accompanied by the two children, together with their two carers, personal furniture, and the ever-faithful Alice, the best chef I have ever known apart from my mother. Thus began a completely new existence which, with very few changes, continues to this day. When Devika and I separated, Malik was four and Dilhan two.

I was both surprised and grateful that the many friends I made during my marriage continued to be my friends even afterwards. They extended to me the same love and affection as before and were also extremely helpful to me in various ways. They gave me much-needed moral support at a difficult time and still remain my close friends.

Whilst there were many such, without detracting from their caring in any way, I must make special mention of Nordeen and Shirin Esufally, who were by my side on every step of a difficult journey and were my dear, lifelong friends until their departure from this world. They opened their hearts to me, providing me exceptional love and care, sent me meals frequently, and gave me unrestricted access to their home and staff. Nordeen was my tennis partner for many years. Their children continue to be equally close to me to this day.

On conclusion of the divorce proceedings, I was granted custody of our two sons with access for the mother once a fortnight. From what I gathered, that too was not a satisfactory experience for them, but did not pursue it or try to change it, apprehensive of the impact it would have on them.

A few months later I was fortunate in being able to purchase a beautiful home in Gower Street, an old-fashioned house set in a sprawling garden with large trees and flowering plants. Both Malik and Dilhan loved its spaciousness; within, they had separate bedrooms with attached baths, toilets and a playroom and outside, the extensive shaded space where they were able to play various games with friends. Every weekend the house was full of my sons’ friends.

I recall that Malik preferred to read books in his room rather than play. Whilst playing cricket, Dilhan would display his resentment at being dismissed whilst batting, sometimes breaking his wicket, a demonstration of temperament he fortunately outgrew!