“We already lost everything”
Looking Back: In 1997 and 1998, 38 families were forced to leave the vereda (settlement) of Promisión, which is a three to four hour walk from the municipality of Angelópolis in the southeast part of Antioquia Province. Th
ese families share an experience with the millions of Colombians who have been forced to displace due to the violence carried out by illegal armed groups across the country. In this case, the armed entities are said to have been paramilitaries, who were systematically causing fear in the population, depopulating the region and gaining control of what was believed to have been guerrilla territory. The civilian population faced death threats and were ordered to evacuate their homes with no hope of ever returning. Without any form of protection from the State or any means to safely demand their right to live in peace, the 38 families painfully left behind their property and the majority of their belongings. What had been their home for years - the place they had invested so much work in order to have profitable coffee trees, sugarcane crops, and fish tanks – suddenly was snatched from them.
The families faced much hardship after they fled. They had to start from scratch and did not have any resources or government support to facilitate the process of finding new homes and lives. They describe finding a place to settle with their bare minimum belongings as a living nightmare. The majority of the families displaced to Medellin, Colombia’s second-largest city and a three-hour bus-ride away. Those who had relatives in other places were forced to seek support with their families whose living situations were also limited in space and resources. Those who settled in Medellin found themselves living in barrios populares (shantytowns) where they faced other forms of violence and risks associated with poverty, as well as high levels of desperation due to unsafe and dangerous conditions. After being displaced and misplaced, suffering became inevitable. Those families with small children explain the awful ordeal of coping with illness, especially given that the adults were unemployed and there was no way to make ends meet or to obtain appropriate medication. “When Alejandro* was sick I had to stay in the hospital all day with him without food or water, then return home in the evenings and repeat the process for weeks until he was released. I couldn’t work and I had no money,” explained Ana Maria*. The harsh living situations they encountered exacerbated by new urban violence left little room for joy and tranquility. These conditions, along with the stress of having to adapt to a lifestyle that was foreign to the campesino way of life made a situation of desperation into a crisis with no hint of a solution.
These families were both physically and psychologically far from a place they could even begin to call “home”. As Mrs. Valdes* described, “The thought of returning back to our fincas was the only thing that offered me any kind of solace.” In 1999, some families decided that they could not continue to live under such conditions and that they would return to their beloved Promisión. With the support of the ACA (Peasant Association of Antioquia) and the International Red Cross, these families returned to their homes for the first time since they had left. Nonetheless, they were forced to displace again after only two months because of the assassination by paramilitaries of four campesinos.
Returning home: Eight years later, during the second half of 2006, 15 out of 38 families that fled decided that returning to Promisión was long overdue. They wanted to return with the support of the local government officials, including the Mayor of Angelópolis, Jaime Gomez, and in a way that
would guarantee their rights as displaced people. The ACA has been supporting this process and making sure that Colombian legal requirements are implemented and respected. Thus far, the community has met several times with what is known as a Local Attention Committee for the Displaced Population (CLAIPD). Some of the relevant bodies that take part in these meetings include: Acción Social (provides state-funded food, supplies, and transportation), Mayor Gomez, Representatives of the National Police and IV Army Brigade, along with other government entities. These meetings are meant to provide a space where they can collectively assess and reach consensus about what is needed and required in order for displaced communities to return to their lands. This, of course, results in a complicated and bureaucratic process that takes a lot of time, patience, and will. Given the fact that the families were forced to leave their homes almost ten years ago and have since endured hardship, the process has reached a boiling point for many.
On September 7, FOR accompanied the ACA and 17 adults with their children to visit Promisión. For the vast majority of these adults, it was the first time since they displaced about ten years ago. They had been planning and organizing this visit since early this year, lining up food, supplies, and appropriate security measures. Finally on Friday morning, packed and ready to head towards their longed for fincas, the families arrived at the ACA eager to begin the day’s journey. Their goal was to be able to personally observe and assess the current condition of their houses and fields, and scope out the work that will need to be invested to improve those conditions. They also wanted to analyze the security situation and speak to residents in Angelópolis who could offer them information about risks associated with returning to Promisión.
We arrived in Angelópolis on Friday afternoon and every face glowed with the joy and excitement of finally finding themselves so close to their homes. The adults were eager and somewhat anxious to get on the next vehicle that could take them to the top of the mountain, only an hour and half walk from their fincas. However, they first had to speak to Mayor Goméz to ensure that he was aware of their presence and to officially let him know that they were going to visit their homes, despite the fact that they received an ominous letter from him the previous evening stating that the “The municipal administration did not commit itself to offering the minimal security measures” for them, and discouraging the return visit. The Mayor was nowhere to be found. So instead they went to the National Police station to officially introduce themselves and explain the reason for their visit. The commander in charge told the community that he found no reason why they couldn’t visit their homes, as there was no knowledge of any illegal armed groups in the region. With that said, the community got on the next vehicle wearing smiles that stretched from ear to ear.
After a long hike that combined up and downhills, mud, banana trees, and streams, we arrived at the finca where we would stay for the next six days. The house had two and a half bedrooms that were decorated with cobwebs, bats, old rusty tools, broken pieces of plastic, and lots and lots of dust. It was one of the few houses in a good enough condition for us to sleep and cook in. Everyone was so excited to be there that it did not matter that everyone would sleep on the floor with 12 blankets for 21 adults and eight children, that there was no electricity, that there were very limited amounts of rice and beans, and that there were many hungry mosquitoes ready have a feast.
That evening an important conversation took place. They all shared their joy and then moved on to another topic. They had previously been informed that there were some families who had settled on their property during the time the community was displaced. Colombia’s displaced populations are found all over the place, and while some flee to the barrios populares, others settle in vacant rural areas with hopes of starting again with the fertile land’s natural resources. This is exactly what some of these returning families found to be the case with their property: the home and land they left behind years ago was now inhabited by another family who had been cultivating crops there and now depended on it for a living. These new settlers, however, are also poor peasants who were forced to flee their own communities some years back by the same mechanisms of violence.
This added to the complexity of their situation. They not only have to worry about getting back to their lands legally and with the necessary support from the state, but they also feel the families who settled in their property need to be acknowledged and not forced to displace as it would only perpetuate the cycle of internal displacement of peasant communities in Colombia.
Beyond today: There are many questions circulating among community members. How long will it be before all the paperwork and funding gets processed? When will they be able to finally return home? Although in the last CLAID meeting on September 14 Acción Social committed itself to providing food for the returning families and funds for the reconstruction of their homes, there is still a long list of pending bureaucratic demands.
There is also the worry that the community might face threats or violence upon their return. But as Mrs. Goméz* said, “I already lost it all once and now there is nothing to be afraid of. We deserve to be back in our home and work our land. Fear is not something that is going to stop me”.
