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Story
Caught in someone else's war
Imagen de archivo NRC en la Costa Pacífica de Colombia
Restrepo's* cell phone keeps ringing. A few days ago, he managed to leave his community on one of the jungle rivers of Colombia's Pacific coast. He arrived in the nearest town in search of water and food for his people. Since January 2023, the conflict between armed groups for control of the territory does not allow them to move from the village to go to their crops, to trade wood, to collect shellfish or fish: they are trapped.
As we talk, he receives several messages that make him anxious. Finally, a phone call makes him stop the interview: only an hour away by river, his community is seeking shelter from bullets and gunfire.
We lived a
war movie
"To hear so many explosions, to see the helicopters firing, and to see how the bullets hit the people because they were close to the village. You ask yourself why here, where we are?" says Restrepo.
Although six years have passed since the peace agreement in Colombia, nearly 22,000 peasants, Afro-Colombians and indigenous people remain trapped in the midst of hunger and fear.
People do not leave their communities for fear of the risk of falling on a landmine, being victims of sexual violence, being wounded in the crossfire, or even disappearing.
Children "have war in their heads" because of the lack of education; they can't go to school to study, "you don't know, a bullet can reach your child playing around," says Restrepo. There is no Internet connection, so virtual learning is not an option.
The community feels that the place they call home is no longer a.
Growing
up in fear
A child is free in its territory, from a young age it begins to defend itself against the bite of a snake or a spider, but you can't tell it what to do when it comes to a bullet." This is how Restrepo grew up, in a once peaceful place in the middle of the jungle that was invaded by violence decades ago. Since then, many members of the community have been threatened, displaced, forcibly recruited, and others killed.
Imagen de archivo NRC en la Costa Pacífica de Colombia
When Restrepo was a teenager, armed men arrived in a boat looking for his father. "He was claiming land rights, so they wanted to kill him," he says. The whole family had to leave their land and flee their lives.
-I left and I never came back (...) How long are we going to live like this?" asks Restrepo, who decided that his four children should also leave their territory to protect them from the conflict.
With them are three generations that grew up and survived the fear.
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Imagen de archivo NRC en la Costa Pacífica de Colombia
In search of change
At this moment, an armed group is settling in the village, and the people have had to move to defend themselves from the danger they face when armed confrontations begin. "The bullets don't discriminate," says Restrepo.
What we are doing is raising our voices to protect our communities," says Restrepo, doing his best to keep his voice steady as he asks us to keep his story anonymous and without photographs, "you fall in love with it [finding solutions for the community], but you have to be willing to die for our collective right."
We are not alone
With support from the European Union, the MIRE Consortium has reached nine displaced and confined communities in the Restrepo area to address the most urgent needs. Despite increasing restrictions, humanitarian principles still allow humanitarian aid from partner organizations such as Action Against Hunger, Alianza por la Solidaridad, Norwegian Refugee Council and Doctors of the World to reach these populations.
We explain to the population how to access their rights as victims of the armed conflict, strengthen the population's behavior to avoid the risks of gender-based violence or landmine accidents, and provide emotional support.
We also deliver hygiene kits, improve infrastructure for access to clean water, and provide cash assistance to give families the autonomy to buy food and meet other needs.
When the MIRE Consortium arrives, "people forget about the conflict for a moment and feel a little freer," says Restrepo, who dreams of the day when his community can live without fear.
* Name changed for protection.
