After the Storm

(5 of 6)

As the helicopter flies, the Weather Coast, on Guadalcanal's south, is a mere 50 km from Honiara. But the region is not accessible by road. Forget radio communications - life is as isolated as it comes in these parts, known for climatic anarchy and wild-eyed lunatic Harold Keke, who is now in custody, accused of several atrocities during the tensions. At Vunusa, a treacherous jungle walk or short river wade (your choice) from the Isuna police post, community chief Philip Limaihado is briskly leading visitors through vegetable gardens, past a thatched shed that is a church, and into a small settlement that has changed little in centuries. For the 400 people who live in this group of five villages, getting beyond subsistence is a struggle. It's all but impossible to sell produce; they can't even get it to market. Rain often brings floods, washing away houses and gardens. Emergency assistance - whether money or food - is unreliable. A more immediate issue for the community is a Peace Councilsponsored reconciliation with a nearby village. "The guns are still out there," says council head Tovua. "We continue to receive threats. The followers of Keke, for instance, think he's going to be home by Christmas. I would hope to see the military come back for an exercise to give a clear message to those with weapons that ramsi means business."

Even in the capital, many are waiting to experience better times. The town's few cars crawl crab-like around potholes the size of plunge pools on the main drag. Honiara has electricity and telephones, but both systems are prone to mid-afternoon heart attacks. The ramsi economy - blow-in consultants, home security, cafs, hotels, vehicles and the like - does have some trickle-down effect. But for father of five Peter Loea, 36, a fisherman, "the jobs aren't there" and finding money to school his children - the government has promised to make primary education free from 2006 - is proving to be difficult. Much of the fish he and his brothers take to market near their home in east Honiara's Vaivila remains unsold or fetches a poor price; plans to replace their wooden boats with fiberglass ones or expand the business into wholesaling are on ice. Loea used to work as a supervisor at the Gold Ridge gold mine, which closed down in 2000. One of ramsi's economic priorities is to revive the lucrative mine; another dormant project, a palm oil plantation, is closer to reality after a deal with a Papua New Guinean company. So tiny are the country's export industries that even these two mid-sized ventures will make a huge difference.

Although business confidence has improved because of ramsi's presence, "the underlying economic situation is fragile," says bank governor Hou. "We had a narrow-based economy to start with, and the ethnic tensions only made things worse." Also of concern, he adds, is that "many items of expenditure have been taken over by foreign governments - Australia has taken over rural health, New Zealand is paying for education. There's also police, speed boats and vehicles, which cost a lot of money. What happens when this is withdrawn?" Down the track, Hou worries about output matching the population growth rate. At around 3% a year, it's one of the most rapid in the world, and has resulted in a youth bulge, with half the population aged under 20. Tied to this is the lack of job opportunities for those leaving school at grade 6, which means 70% of the population. "We're creating a large number of energetic people that have nothing to do," Hou says. "It's dangerous not to have them engaged."