-By LeN Investigative Correspondent
(Lanka-e-News -05.April.2025, 10.40 PM) When Sri Lanka set its eyes on modernizing the Bandaranaike International Airport (BIA), Phase II Stage 2 was hailed as a beacon of hope. A gleaming terminal stretching 180,000 square meters. A 210,000-square-meter apron. Roads, viaducts, world-class facilities, and—ironically—a spectacular nose-dive into questionable consultancy practices.
The government’s intention was clear: expand the country's only international airport to match booming post-war tourism and economic growth. But somewhere between a yen loan and the final inspection letter, the dream of seamless international aviation quietly transformed into an overpriced, mismanaged, bureaucratic circus.
At the center of the turbulence? Japan Airport Consultants, Inc.—yes, them again—riding the project like a chartered flight with no brakes.
Back in February 2014, the Government of Sri Lanka, with the backing of the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA), announced the BIA expansion plan. JICA approved a yen loan and tapped Japan Airport Consultants Inc. (JAC) and Nippon Koei for what should’ve been a model infrastructure project.
On paper, the scope was impressive: technical services, basic and detailed design work, bidding assistance, construction management, maintenance operations, and even environmental and social considerations. The runway to glory was laid.
But this wasn't just about blueprints and asphalt—it was about navigating the high-stakes world of international travel, ground operations, and aircraft maintenance. Which, you would think, would involve coordination with, say… the national airline?
Apparently not.
As revealed in Parliament’s COPE (Committee on Public Enterprises) hearings, JAC’s work was plagued with communication breakdowns, starting with a breathtakingly avoidable blunder: they didn’t consult SriLankan Airlines, the flag carrier and primary ground handler, during the design of the terminal’s operational layout.
The result?
Flight parking slots that looked more like a game of aircraft Tetris than a strategic airport layout. Parking spaces so tight that aircraft wings nearly brushed against each other—like trying to dock a Boeing 777 in a tuk-tuk bay.
SriLankan Airlines had submitted their requirements to JAC in good faith. Those documents, however, seemed to vanish into the consultant’s bureaucratic Bermuda Triangle. The designs, finalized without incorporating key operational inputs, now pose a logistical nightmare for ground operations—fueling, cargo offloading, aircraft maintenance, and more.
An aviation consultant interviewed anonymously commented:
“It’s like designing car parking spots based on motorcycle dimensions and wondering why there’s a traffic jam.”
According to Project Management Unit (PMU) records, the construction was completed by January 2022. Yet, the official project completion letter was only issued in September 2023—a full 20 months later. Why? Defective works. A term so vague, it's practically a contractor’s favorite euphemism.
But that’s not the scandal. The scandal is that the PMU still signed off, despite glaring operational and structural issues. Industry insiders are raising serious concerns about the PMU’s inspection competence. Were inspections simply rubber-stamped? Were officials underqualified, over-influenced, or just blissfully unaware?
Or—whisper it—was someone in the know ensuring JAC’s smooth getaway?
This isn’t JAC’s first rodeo, and Sri Lanka isn’t their only client. As a Japanese firm heavily involved in Asian infrastructure projects, JAC has a polished portfolio. But critics argue their BIA engagement reflects a worrying trend: consultancy without consequence.
They were paid to deliver expert design and management. Instead, they delivered bottlenecked bays, awkward aprons, and terminal design choices that have left ground operators fuming—and planes idling.
One COPE member was reportedly overheard asking:
“Did they design this based on Google Earth images? Because even satellite photos would've shown we needed wider parking slots.”
The project scope touted a holistic approach—environmental sustainability and social integration. But ask the airport's frontline staff, and you'll hear grumbles about inadequate facilities, poor access roads, and bottlenecks that make Colombo’s morning traffic seem like a meditation retreat.
What happened to the social considerations? Were they buried under glossy PowerPoint decks and executive luncheons?
To call this project a “gravy train” might be unkind—to actual trains. The JAC and Nippon Koei joint venture raked in substantial consultancy fees, supported by Sri Lankan taxpayers via JICA’s soft loan. The kind of sweet gig where you're paid to design an apron and forget about the aircraft.
They handled everything—from technical design to bidding assistance—effectively becoming both the architect and the referee. And with minimal accountability.
And here’s the kicker: no clear punitive clauses were ever enforced. No disqualification. No public blacklisting. No clawback of fees. Just gentle murmurs of “lessons learned” as planes navigate tight turns and ground crews juggle fuel hoses like circus performers.
The Sri Lankan public, meanwhile, foots the bill. Yen loans are not grants. They come with obligations. We’ll be repaying this money for decades, while JAC’s designers are presumably back in Tokyo, designing another terminal in another country, hopefully with wider parking slots this time.
This isn’t a condemnation of Japanese aid—Japan remains one of Sri Lanka’s most consistent development partners. But when aid is administered through opaque consultancies and loosely monitored projects, it turns into exploitation dressed as generosity.
Activists and aviation experts are calling for a forensic audit of the BIA Phase II Stage 2 project. Not just a surface-level review, but a detailed, independent inquiry into:
How consultancy contracts were awarded
Why airline input was disregarded
Who approved the final designs
How defects were inspected and approved
What contractual remedies exist for operational failures
And most importantly: Who benefited?
As passengers stream through BIA’s shiny new terminal, few are aware that behind the glass walls and tiled floors lies a cautionary tale of governance gone rogue, accountability lost in translation, and consultants cashing cheques on the backs of poor planning.
Sri Lanka deserved a world-class airport. Instead, it got a fancy façade with the operational backbone of a budget airstrip.
So next time your flight is delayed at BIA due to apron congestion, remember: it’s not always the airline’s fault. Sometimes, it's the fault of someone who designed your airport like a Sudoku puzzle—without consulting the pilots.
And while we can’t turn back time, we can still demand answers. The Japanese may have brought the loan, but someone in Sri Lanka opened the door—and it's time we found out who gave JAC a first-class ticket on our national wallet.
-By LeN Investigative Correspondent
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by (2025-04-05 17:14:48)
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