From ‘Send Report’ to ‘Send Help’: My Rotaract Journey

Joining Rotaract was pure coincidence—like walking into the wrong room and realizing it’s exactly where you were meant to be. There was no grand plan, no long-term vision. I just wanted to write something for the editorial. That’s it. Then somehow, I found myself compering an event, and from there, things snowballed. One post turned into two, then ten, and before I knew it, I was completely immersed—designing posters, helping out with projects, and genuinely enjoying every moment of it. My Canva skills, which were once limited to dragging text boxes around in confusion, skyrocketed. And when the board positions opened up, something inside me said, “Why not?” Maybe it was ambition, or maybe it was just sleep deprivation (definitely (I can never spell this word) so), but I figured it was time to step out of the safety of my little comfort zone. So when someone asked if I’d be willing to take up the secretary post, said yes. And that one yes? It changed everything. The rest, as cliché as it sounds, really is history.

Did I enjoy the position? In some weird, twisted way—yes. I actually grew to enjoy writing reports. Yes, reports. The same ones that came with a million deadlines, and a ticking clock that never stopped, like a social experiment subject it did condition me to believe that every 10th of a month is a project deadline, I still scare myself. But somehow, I always got them done. They grounded me in a way nothing else had before. Of everything Rotaract taught me, the biggest lesson was how to keep up—with people, with tasks, with life. Balancing academics, a job, project documentation, and the very human side of working with others? Not exactly a walk in the park. But I learned. Slowly, steadily, through trial, error, and a lot of late-night edits.

Now, I won’t pretend I was the best secretary out there. That’s not me being modest—it’s just the truth. There were definitely reports I could’ve done better, moments I wish I had handled with more clarity and grace. And yes, there were times I was ready to give up—completely overwhelmed, questioning whether I could keep going. But I held on. I pushed through, one deadline at a time. And in the end, it was all worth it. Because one thing I can say with certainty is that I gave it my best shot. Through exams, personal stress, and pure exhaustion, I never missed a single deadline. That taught me something I hadn’t learned before: some responsibilities just can’t wait—and showing up for them, especially when it’s hard, is where growth really begins.

Enough about me being absolutely narcissistic about my deadlines— None of this would’ve been possible without Senara. We made a great team—her quiet encouragement, her unwavering sense of responsibility, and her ability to stay calm when I was ready to throw my laptop out the window made all the difference. Because at the end of the day, it’s never about one person. It’s about a team working towards something they believe in. With Vibhavee’s guidance, we finally made it onto the list of good standing clubs. The citations? Handled beautifully by our powerhouse avenue directors. The finances? Managed with surgical precision by Senali. Yes, we had our differences—moments of silence, stress, and

passive-aggressive texts—but we made it through. We stuck it out, and that, I believe, is our biggest achievement. We didn’t just survive—we built something strong, and we passed on a club we’re proud of.

Rotaract gave me more than just opportunities. It gave me people. People who tolerated us through late-night meetings, last-minute panics, and spontaneous plot twists that would terrify even the best event planners. The juniors were resilient, patient, and full of heart, and working with them made everything feel lighter, even in the most chaotic of moments. But more than the events or positions, Rotaract taught me the irreplaceable value of relationships. It’s Senali and me, knee-deep in reports, exhausted and ranting—yet showing up, again and again. She wasn’t just a hype woman; she truly listened. When I was spiraling, overwhelmed by deadlines and doubt, she was the steady voice that reminded me to breathe and refocus. She wasn’t afraid to tell me when I was wrong, not out of criticism but out of care, always pushing me to be better. Senali didn’t sugarcoat the truth, but she never let me face the hard days alone, we checked out each other, and it worked over and over again. She was the friend who guided me when I couldn’t find my own way, the quiet strength behind every late-night hustle. She is the reason why Rotaract wasn’t just a club to me, but a place where every effort felt meaningful, a journey that was 100 percent worth it—and then some.

Jana and I—our friendship bloomed in the midst of the mess. Early mornings turned into comfort rituals, our little breakfast club where stress gave way to laughter. She became part of my rhythm, a steady presence I could count on. Then there’s Sarah. What do I even say about her? I love her—unapologetically. She was the one I dropped unfiltered 2 a.m. rants to, the one who never judged, only listened and stood by me, stood for me, even in the lowest, most confusing parts of my life. Her energy was wild and soft at the same time, and it kept me grounded more than she’ll ever know. And Safiyah and Binu—sunshine in human form. They were the ones who lit up every room, whose hugs and laughter had the power to fix the worst days. The ones who welcomed me back after long, soul-draining hours with warmth like home. And of course, the chaotic, loveable English department gang—who never failed to make me feel seen. They were there with hugs, with chaotic group chats, with the kind of presence that says, “You’re not alone.” They reminded me, constantly, that I wasn’t just a secretary or a to-do list—I was still me.

But above all, it was the juniors who gave this journey real meaning. The ones who trusted me, who came to me with questions and ideas, who looked up to me even when I didn’t feel particularly put-together. Some of them I bonded with in quiet, unexpected ways. With others, I saw the change—we worked together, and I watched them grow. Knowing that I was able to make even a small difference in their path is something I’ll carry with me always. Because being looked up to is not just an honour—it’s a responsibility. And I hope, in some way, I lived up to it.

And none of this— I MEAN NONE OF IT — would’ve been possible without the incredible board. These are the people who stayed back late into the night, juggling looming assignments, exams, and their own personal struggles, yet somehow still found the energy

and passion to pour their hearts into this club. They were the backbone of every success, the silent force behind every event. From organizing Healing Hearts, which brought hope and comfort to so many, to the unforgettable energy of Baila Night, to our biggest effort yet, Touchdown ‘24 each project was a testament to their commitment and creativity.

They endured chaotic meetings where plans changed at the last minute, navigated through moments of stress and uncertainty, and faced countless challenges that would have made anyone else give up. Yet, they showed up. Their resilience and dedication never wavered. The pride we all felt when we signed the twin club agreement wasn’t just about the document; it was the culmination of of hard work, trust, and shared vision. Our PR duo who kept the club’s spirit alive and kicking, making sure every achievement, every event, every moment was shared with the world. Our Instagram account? It has honestly never looked prettier.

They invested their time, and their hearts to make this club more than just a group—it became a community of change. Even on the hard days, when tensions ran high and things didn’t go as planned, they stood firm. They held the vision alongside the exco, and at the end of the day, there were the true heroes of this game.

So, here’s what I want to say: if, during this journey—whether while chasing down reports or just navigating the day-to-day chaos—I ever broke any of your hearts, I’m truly sorry. Rotaract is a wild, beautiful ride, and sometimes things get messy. But for everyone reading this, now or years down the line, please remember this: people will have differences. Expectations won’t always be met exactly the way you imagined. And that’s okay. What matters is understanding, patience, and offering advice with kindness. Never forget—these people aren’t just your board members; they’re your friends.

Make Rotaract fun. Don’t let it become a chore or a box to tick. This isn’t just a club; it’s a movement—a chance to do good, to grow, to connect, and to create change in the world around you. Hold your people close. Laugh loudly. Get a little crazy. Because that’s where the magic really happens.

And I can’t end without sharing what Baagya akki told me when I first stepped into this role: “It’ll be hard, but you’ll be glad you did it.” And she hit the nail on the head. There were moments I wanted to give up, moments I questioned if I was cut out for this, but now, looking back, I’m proud—so proud—of the person I’ve become. Stronger, wiser, more compassionate, and more grateful than I ever thought possible.

This journey shaped me in ways I didn’t expect, and for that, I’ll always be thankful. So to anyone stepping into this world—brace yourself for the hard days, lean on your people, and hold tight to the joy in the journey. Because in the end, it’s all worth it.

Signing off,

Your professional yapper, A tad bit crazy,

Secretary 2024-25, Barani Elwaththa.

Viva La Rotaract.