CHENNAI: Thilakavathy and her three children were lucky to survive the December 26, 2004, tsunami, but some events that followed the catastrophe made her contemplate suicide several times.

The 29-year-old widow was finding it difficult to make ends meet when her daughter attained puberty last year. That is when the community pressures parents to have the girl married. It was then that Prakash, a friendly visitor to the tsunami shelters at Ernavur near Chennai, promised Thilakavathy Rs1 lakh in exchange for one of her kidneys.

But when Thilakavathy had her kidney removed at a hospital in Madurai, she received only Rs40,000. Most of that amount, she said, was spent to treat her recurrent back pains. "Ever since my husband died, I have been bringing up my children by selling fish," Thilakavathy said. "After the surgery, I am unable to lift weights and can work only a couple of days a week."

Thilakavathy lives in a temporary shelter in Tsunami Nagar, 25km from Chennai. She is one of the 35 or so women, among the 1,745 families that live in the tsunami shelters, who have sold their kidneys in the past couple of years.

Muthamma (34), another resident of Tsunami Nagar, had to spend 21 days in hospital as she developed fits and inflammation of the joints after the removal of a kidney. "The broker said he would be able to pay only Rs40,000 since the rest of the promised money had to be spent on managing the post-surgery complications," Muthamma said.

DNA has learnt that at least 10 more women in Tsunami Nagar are planning to sell their kidneys next month. Although the kidney brokers have targeted women in the 25-35 age group younger women are also fair prey.

The money a broker paid to Kalpana, a 19-year-old mother of two, was pocketed by her fisherman husband, who no longer goes to the sea. Since the tsunami, he spends the day drinking.

Women often volunteer to give their kidneys because they want their men to remain ‘healthy’ to go to sea. 

"Many of these women never got even a paisa," said Mariaselvam, the local leader of the fisherfolk in Ernavur. "And they have to endure their drunkard husbands, who spend the money on nothing but booze."

The men, many of whom work as coolies on mechanised boats, said they have stopped going to the sea, despite help from NGOs and the government, because fishing is no longer lucrative.

"We have been shifted away from the seaside and have to spend Rs30 on autorickshaws to reach the seaside by 1:30am before the boats leave," said a fisherman, who reeked of liquor at noon.  "Sometimes we get a measly Rs500 after spending a whole week on the sea."