Fish Stew and a Lament: Mahinda Down the Southern Express

Sri Lanka’s political theatre has found its latest act in Giruwapattuwa — with former President Mahinda Rajapaksa back in his home village, a steaming pot of fish stew on the table and a fire in his words.

Booted out of his plush official residence under the brand-new Presidents’ Entitlements (Repeal) Act, No. 18 of 2025, Rajapaksa staged his comeback not in Colombo’s corridors of power but in the familiar dust and greenery of the South. The same Southern Expressway he once championed now carried him, not as the untouchable head of state but as a retired leader stripped of perks, back to “where it all began.”

“Now I can enjoy a sour fish stew in the village,” he posted on Facebook — equal parts homely nostalgia and political symbolism. The fish stew became the metaphor of the day: simple, sharp, village-rooted, but tinged with bitterness.

Yet behind the rustic imagery was a lament — and a warning. Rajapaksa blasted what he called “political terrorism” fueled by revenge, incompetence, and lack of discipline. He dismissed media chatter demanding he leave Wijerama earlier, saying he owed nothing to political opponents scrambling to hide their own failures.

Then came the flash of defiance that has marked his brand for decades:

“As long as I live, under the shelter of the lion flag, I will rise up—no matter the suffering—against anyone who betrays this unitary motherland. On that day, the Maha Sangha and the people will stand ready to make any sacrifice.”

It was part village lament, part battle cry — equal doses of homespun storytelling and hard political muscle. Even a shocking claim — that someone publicly said he deserved to be hanged — was brushed aside as “direct targeting” not worth his response.

Rajapaksa also reached back to his Geneva days, recalling how he once spoke for the disappeared at the UN Human Rights Council, framing himself as both victim of repression and defender of the voiceless.

But in Giruwapattuwa, the headline wasn’t Geneva. It was the stew, the road, and the return: Mahinda, stripped of perks, serving a familiar dish with a dash of bitterness — reminding the nation that the old warhorse hasn’t stopped growling.