COLOMBO, Sri Lanka – Hundreds of people are marching in a makeshift protest camp built outside the presidential mansion the morning after it was stormed by largely peaceful protesters.
Some people wave Sri Lankan flags, others hold children’s hands. They greet each other with a smile. The exuberant atmosphere makes it feel like a national holiday.
“What did we do when they didn’t give us fuel?” a man yells through a megaphone, “We walked to Colombo, didn’t we?”
“Yes!” the crowd responds.
“Did they prevent us from coming to Colombo?”
“No!”
Hours after protesters took control of the British colonial-era building, it has effectively become a free museum. People pour in as army guards quietly patrol the corridors. They admire the fine artwork, the chandeliers and the lavishly painted ceilings.
They also recline on sofas in the main hall, sit around the large dining table and peek into kitchen cupboards and teak cabinets. A man cooks rice in a large wok. Apart from some graffiti urging the president, Gotabaya Rajapaksa, to resign, some plastic bottle scraps and a few paintings that were a bit crooked, the space is tidy.
Mr Rajapaksa, who fled the residence before the protesters arrived, has agreed to resign, according to an ally. But the president has remained silent and has not appeared or spoken in public since Sunday afternoon.
Back at the mansion, in a spacious bedroom, a group of young men are stretched out across the bed. People scour the closets for clothes worth taking and examine the bathroom facilities. The damage seems minimal; people seem especially interested in photographing themselves where the president lived.
But the building has had too many visitors and the air has become stuffy. So some people cool off in the president’s pool.
Nearby, in the anteroom of the Secretariat, a separate building that houses the President’s office, people wander around studying piles of used books and political pamphlets. A black banner on the door frame announces that the space has been converted into a ‘people’s library’.
The other entrances to the ornate colonnaded building, where Sri Lankan flags protrude from windows shattered during Saturday’s takeover, are protected by army guards in camouflage uniforms.
“Large building with full arm guard for what?” said Izuru Rajakaruna, 33, a hotel manager who quit his job three weeks ago to join the protest. “We have to use this building. Today there are no schools. So that the kids can come here to learn something.”