Guinea-Bissau Rambles on, Despite Coup Campaign banners from an election that was violently interrupted still hang in the main thoroughfare of this steamy capital, a reminder that a stable government is far from the country's grasp. Guinea-Bissau was just weeks away from holding a presidential runoff election when soldiers attacked the front-runner's home in April and arrested him along with the country's interim president. To the 1.5 million residents of this tiny, coastal nation, it spelled yet another upheaval in a history full of them. It comes perhaps as no surprise then that people here are complacent about the latest move by the junta. While the international community has loudly condemned the latest power grab, Bissau-Guineans have had little time to mourn yet another aborted attempt at establishing democracy, worried instead by how to make ends meet during their country's latest political spasm. A lone sign hangs from a pedestrian overpass in downtown Bissau urging: "Mobilize yourselves! Demonstrate! We are a Democracy! Most, though, are simply doing their best just to walk across that bridge to make a living each day. Public workers didn't receive their salaries last month on payday, just after the coup. It's still unclear whether anyone will receive their salaries for May, and the hardship compounds life for those who depend on others getting paid. Cadidjoto Seide, 28, supports her three children by selling a local milk dish along the roadside. In the months before the coup, she could sometimes make up to 5,000 francs ($10) a day, though much of that would go toward her transport costs. Since the coup, she's lucky to make 1,500 ($3), she says. "It's really difficult at the moment just to survive," she says, watching commuter buses whirl by her stand in the main market downtown. The April coup began on a Friday afternoon, just 17 days before the country's runoff election. The first round of voting had largely been described as free and fair, and former Prime Minister Carlos Gomes Jr. was leading by a wide margin, making his victory all but sure. By the night of April 12, the military had blocked off the roads to the candidate's house, and were lobbing grenades at his villa. Now Gomes has fled the country, and it appears less likely each day that he will ever return. The country's chances of ridding itself of military intervention are slim, given a booming cocaine trade that has turned Guinea-Bissau into a narcostate, fueled by trans-Atlantic drug shipments bound for Europe. Key members of the military have been named as complicit in the trade, including several army and navy chiefs who are now on the United States' "drug kingpin" list. The infusion of illicit cash has emboldened an already bloated army. Drugs, observers say, played a role in the recent coup. "All the intelligence Portugal possesses clearly indicates that one of the factors behind the coup was drug-trafficking," Portuguese Foreign Minister Paulo Portas told reporters in Lisbon after meeting with Gomes, who exiled himself there. "Either Guinea-Bissau becomes a state based on the rule of law, or it will be held ransom by a certain military clique that is open to the drug trade," said Portas.