In the northwestern region of Sri Lanka, the escalating conflict between humans and wild elephants continues to have a deadly impact on local communities and wildlife alike. At the center of this ongoing struggle is the area around the Siyambalangamuwa tank, a reservoir protected by a 14-kilometer electric fence designed to prevent wild elephants from entering nearby villages.

Galgamuwa, located along the reservoir’s edge, has become a hotspot in one of the world’s most severe human-elephant conflicts. Since 2019, an average of 138 people have died annually from encounters with elephants in Sri Lanka, the second-highest toll globally. At the same time, elephant fatalities, driven by shrinking habitat and increasing interactions with humans, have reached an unprecedented average of 402 deaths per year—the highest worldwide.

Wildlife officer Dewagiri Mudiyanselage Thilakaratne Bandara, who works to maintain the protective fence, explains that habitat loss is a root cause of the conflict. He recalled that two decades ago, expansive forests once separated the reservoir from the villages. As these forests were cleared, elephants increasingly moved closer to human settlements in search of food. “When we were little, we had to go to a corner of the tank to see elephants. Now, in the nights, the elephants come to see us,” Bandara noted.

Sri Lankan society holds a deep reverence for elephants, which play significant cultural roles in religious pageants and are considered status symbols. The animals also contribute substantially to the island’s $4 billion tourism industry. However, the rise in elephant deaths reflects the severe consequences of intensified human-animal encounters. The Department of Wildlife Conservation reported a record 488 elephant deaths in 2023, caused by shootings during village encroachments, poisoning, electrocution, train collisions, and accidents such as falls into wells.

Bandara’s own family has been directly affected by the conflict. Last December, an elephant that entered their backyard attacked Bandara and his wife, Rathnayake Mudiyanselage Shirani Rathnayake. Bandara sustained serious injuries, including a broken leg and dislocated shoulder, while Rathnayake was trampled, resulting in the amputation of her right leg. She now relies on a wheelchair, and the couple’s daily lives have been profoundly disrupted.

To mitigate risks, villagers have adapted their routines by altering school start times, finishing work earlier, and organizing social events to avoid elephant encounters. Community members also use a WhatsApp group to monitor elephant movements and collaborate to ward off the animals when needed.

Bandara advocates for halting further deforestation and emphasizes reforestation efforts to restore elephant habitats. Sri Lanka’s forest cover has declined drastically, from about 70% in the 1920s to approximately 34% today. Adding to the complexity, an estimated 70% of the country’s 7,451 wild elephants live outside designated protected areas, with the population growing by 27% over the past decade.

Despite the hardships, Bandara does not harbor resentment toward the elephants. “He was hungry because of the activities of us humans,” Bandara said. He acknowledged the situation as an unfortunate consequence of human actions, referring to it as karma that he and his wife must endure. “What will I get by hating that animal? He is innocent,” he said, expressing a perspective of coexistence amid the conflict.