I have always spent Easter Sunday with family sitting in my comfortable suburban home, enjoying a lamb roast. This year I found myself sitting with 700 or so members of the Australian Tamil community outside Kirribilli House. It was a protest against the Sri Lankan government's ongoing attacks on Tamil civilians in northern Sri Lanka.
I was attending a conference in Sydney when the word went out that the Sri Lankan government had commenced an attack on the so called civilian 'safety zones' in Sri Lanka — areas that the government has designated as safe for civilians, refugees in their own country.
Despite the complexities of the Sri Lankan crisis, I could empathise with innocent civilians being attacked in their own land. So I headed down to Kirribilli House in solidarity with the Tamil people.
Sitting in the crowd, I witnessed whole families, groups of teenagers and single women and men all pleading for the same outcome, as they chanted 'Australia save the Tamils'. Not wanting to wake nearby sleeping Sydney-siders the protesters kept their voices down. But the message was clear: 'We want freedom'.
Tensions between the Sri Lankan Sinhalese government and the minority Tamil people are not new. According to Dr Brian Senewiratne, a physician from the Sinhalese ethnic majority and activist for Tamil rights, policies have been implemented for decades that make it more difficult for Tamils to access education, jobs and other essentials of existence.
Dr Senewiratne, speaking at the protest, referred to the Tamil people as 'my people', reflecting a common humanity that defies ethnic and religious origins.
In recent months the crisis has escalated to a catastrophic level. According to Amnesty International statistics, 200,000 people are trapped in the midst of heavy fighting, resulting in hundreds if not thousands of civilian deaths.
The Sri Lankan government state they are fighting against the LTTE (Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam, or Tamil Tigers), which they consider a terrorist unit. They believe their cause is worth the countless civilian casualties, whom they consider collateral damage.
To some the Tamil Tigers are the people's only defence against a brutal and genocidal regime. To others they are a terrorist organisation in the vein of Al Qaeda.
In the current world climate, the existence of alleged terrorist organisations or governments has been the impetus or the excuse required to start wars, invade countries and kill countless innocent human lives. The Australian Government has thrown its backing behind these wars, supporting the United States in Afghanistan and Iraq.
As justification for its involvement, the Australian Government points to the suffering of the people in these countries. Why then has the suffering of the Tamil people been met with a deafening 'no comment'? As hundreds of Tamils braced the night outside Kirribilli House, and three men undertook a hunger strike in a plea to be heard by Kevin Rudd, no acknowledgement of the suffering of these people was forthcoming.
With journalists prohibited from Sri Lanka and aid agencies expelled, the truth of what is occurring can seem intangible. What is clear is that aid, medicine and food are not available to refugees. Also, that Sri Lanka's lucrative port access to the Indian Ocean is an issue influencing how countries such as India address the crisis.
Christian churches, Hindu kovils and Muslim mosques are routinely targeted. Dr Mayuran Suthersan, a member of the Australian Tamil Youth and a doctor practicing in Sydney, said at the protest, 'we receive word that our brother, sister or mother has died and these words come too often ... the Tamil people are being annihilated'.
'Please listen to us', he pleaded. 'If you don't listen to us our people back at home won't be there to talk.'
Earlier in the day I had heard of an orphanage that had been bombed under the pretence that the children living there were potential terrorists. Sitting in the crowd I met a teenage boy the same age of some of those now dead children. I asked him if he had family in Sri Lanka. His answer, 'not directly', seemed to encapsulate the feeling of the crowd, that the people suffering in Sri Lanka were family whether they were related or not.
It was a fitting sentiment on the day when Christians in Australia were sitting in their living rooms reflecting on the suffering of their leader, who had stood up for the oppressed and marginalised, and for whom all people were as family.
Natalie Francis is a social worker, an activist with the Australia-Venezuela Solididarity Network, and a member of a post church faith community. She has an an Arts degree with a major in Cultural Theory and English Literature.