SQUATTING under an umbrella bearing an EU logo, a woman in a faded sari dips into her blue UNICEF bag and pulls out two towels, some toothbrushes and toothpaste, sanitary napkins and a small bottle of disinfectant.
She is soon ringed by hagglers wanting her paltry wares for even less than the pittance she asks.
Another woman clambers from a bus lugging a sack of flour donated by the World Food Programme. She jostles for space among the throngs of internally displaced Tamils peddling their rations near the hospital in Vavuniya in the north of
Just months ago, many of them were treated here for injuries sustained as the Sri Lankan army defeated Tamil Tiger rebels.
After the rout of the Tigers in May, nearly 300,000 Tamils who fled the fighting were fenced inside sprawling camps near Vavuniya. After concerted foreign pressure the government opened the camps on December 1st. It was also swayed by the need for Tamil votes in the hotly contested presidential election to be held on January 26th.
Almost at once dozens of displaced civilians started taking their staple dry rations to town. They sell lentils, wheat-flour, parboiled rice, curry powders, chickpeas and toiletries. There are mosquito nets and cloth nappies, tea, slippers and even a vegetable grater. Traders are arriving from other parts of the country.
Prices are at wholesale levels or below, and one says she had heard she could get things cheap for her grocery shop. Some of the poorer camp inmates make money from occasional odd jobs and manual labour. But there is too little work to go around.
So selling the rations seems the natural thing to do—not, one adds earnestly, that they are given too much. Rather, it is the only way to earn money to pay for other needs.
Vavuniya may soon lose its pavement hawkers, however. President Mahinda Rajapaksa has promised to resettle all displaced civilians in their home villages by January 31st. His main electoral challenger is his former army commander, Sarath Fonseka. They will split the vote of the Sinhalese majority. So both need to court minorities, notably the Tamils.
U.L.M. Haldeen, of the Ministry of Resettlement, says hundreds of families have already been taken back to their villages and given tin roofing sheets, a cash grant and cooking utensils to help them rebuild their lives. He says only 101,113 of the 300,000 remain in camps, and denies allegations that the displaced are being quietly moved into other temporary housing, as the government flounders around in search of a coherent resettlement plan.
Many of the displaced show no interest in the election. One says he will vote, but only because it means he can visit his village. Another stares back blankly when asked if she knows the candidates. No idea, she says, distracted by a uniformed policeman who wants to buy a mosquito net. His small change matters more than the would-be presidents’ promises.
