Prof. Kolitha Harischandra Sellahewa: Clinician, Teacher, Leader, and Humanist
Prof. Kolitha Harischandra Sellahewa entered my life during my final-year professorial appointment in Medicine at the Neville Fernando Teaching Hospital between 2015 and 2016. At SAITM, everyone spoke about him in a tone that was equal parts awe and fear. He was known as a strict disciplinarian uncompromising when it came to patient care. Even fellow consultants who had trained under him were cautious around him. Mistakes in clinical management received no mercy. This reputation alone was intimidating enough… but I never expected that he would leave such a lasting influence on my life and career.
I remember the grand ward rounds vividly, especially the day he questioned me about every single case in the ward. Dengue, diabetes, hypertension, rheumatoid arthritis, meningitis, stroke — he fired questions at me non-stop, turning the round into what felt like a one-on-one boxing match with Mike Tyson. I barely survived. His questions were never obscure theory; they were grounded in bedside skills, sharp observation, and simple clinical reasoning — skills I often failed to demonstrate at the time. With a single glance or one precise question, he would unravel the entire diagnosis that interns, registrars, and even consultants had overlooked. When complicated dengue cases left everyone clueless, the moment would come when someone whispered, “We need Prof. Sellahewa.”
To this day, every time I speak to a patient, examine them, or teach a medical student, I feel like he is standing beside me — watching, observing with those piercing eyes that missed nothing. From checking a pulse to examining a joint, auscultating the lungs to assessing cranial nerves I still follow “the Sellahewa technique.” His influence has become part of my everyday practice.
I recall the day he delivered an oration on snakebite management at the Cinnamon Grand, during the Annual Academic Sessions of the Ceylon College of Physicians in 2017. He held the audience in absolute silence for an entire hour — eloquent, precise, mesmerizing. That was his secret: meticulous preparation. He could spend days or even months preparing for a single lecture, ensuring every word mattered.
His organizational skills were unmatched. As a demonstrator in the Department of Medicine, I witnessed how he transformed symposiums, examinations, and hospital events into seamless professional productions. During the dengue and snakebite symposium at NFTH, he personally inspected everything — the schedule, hospitality, even the decorations. Once, he arranged an entire floral display himself using flowers from a garden nearby — far outperforming those who tried to help.
Prof. Sellahewa valued tradition, culture, and Buddhism deeply. I remember traveling with him and my colleague Dr. Tharindu Ruwanpathiranage now a Registrar in Internal Medicine in the UK to meet one of the last Veddah elders who once knew Dr. R. L. Spittel. Our vehicle got stuck in the mud on that trip, but sir calmly maneuvered us out like a master driver. He enjoyed humble, healthy Sri Lankan food kurakkan thalapa, boiled manioc, and a simple cup of plain tea. I still remember how delighted he was when a batch of final-year students organized a party featuring only traditional food. He talked about it for days!
Meditation and Buddhism were not merely philosophical interests for him, they were practical principles he lived by. As a devoted member and Vice President of the “Servants of the Buddha,” he organized almsgivings and charity with genuine passion. He marked his birthday or any significant milestone by serving others especially the poor.
Of course, there were also hilarious moments although they were terrifying at the time. If you failed to perform well, he would shout, “Disappear! You should be sent to the moon or Mars!” The stare he gave, eyes wide, jaw clenched was enough to haunt our dreams. Today, we laugh about it… but it made us sharper, more responsible, and more resilient.
He fiercely defended his students, especially us SAITM students whenever we were ridiculed or dismissed by outsiders. He stood up for us with fearless conviction. Nobody dared argue with him, because he always spoke the truth boldly and without hesitation.
Clinically, he was a giant and a pioneer in snakebite management and dengue care in Sri Lanka. He trusted his senses more than investigations. His innovative approach to using IVIG in snake envenomation and fresh frozen plasma in certain cases sparked new conversations in clinical management. He challenged norms and led breakthroughs with confidence and intellect.
He was also a man of unique ideas. When he served as President of the Ceylon College of Physicians (CCP) in 2000, he banned alcohol at the inauguration and served fresh fruit juice instead. It caused a ripple of shock yet the saved funds were donated to soldiers at the frontlines. That was who he was, courageous, principled, and compassionate.
We later learned he is a formidable cricketer — having captained the Avissawella Hospital team and the CCP team to multiple victories as an outstanding all-rounder.
Today, thousands of doctors across Sri Lanka and around the world owe part of their skills to both state and private graduates, including nearly 80 from SAITM now pursuing postgraduate training. We are his legacy.
As for me, I stand where I am today because of his discipline, his teachings, and his belief in us even when we doubted ourselves. One day, I hope I can reach even a fraction of the excellence he inspired in us continuing his tradition of compassionate, meticulous, human-centered medicine.
Thank you, sir.
For shaping not only the doctor I am, but the human being I strive to become.
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