Evaristo Mena from ACVC (right) demanding the freedom of his companions in 2008.

Rob Hawke, volunteer from Great Britain (2009)

ACVC member Miguel Huepa was jailed for 16 months, accused of rebellion. During his imprisonment, his son was the victim of an alleged extrajudicial killing.

I am next to Miguel on the riverboat. He is telling me about the river’s whims, depths, shallows, rapids and eddies. His delight is evident as he interrupts his story to effusively greet another local boarding a boat or to point out a turtle hidden along the shore. With satisfaction, he contemplates the green pastures and red ravines of the Cimitarra River Valley. After being jailed 16 months ago, he was recently released and now returns to his land for the first time.  

We are on our way to Puerto Nuevo Ité, where his family lives and where Miguel was detained under charges of rebellion on 20 January 2008. On 20 May 2009, he was acquitted by judicial authorities. It is the end of an immense and painful circle in the history of Miguel Ángel González Huepa and the Peasant Farmers’ Association of the Cimitarra River Valley (ACVC), of which he is a founding member. Evaristo Mena is also on the riverboat. He is another ACVC human rights defender who was jailed with Miguel for several months in cellblock no. 4 of the Modelo Prison in Bucaramanga. Reunited, they are now resuming the training workshops, which had been interrupted by their imprisonment.

The first time I saw Miguel was at one of the hearings for his case at the Public Prosecutor’s Office in Barrancabermeja. He was sitting handcuffed, surrounded by police, while the witness rendered his testimony. I was impressed by Miguel’s temperament. He handled the problems with a good disposition, despite the worried and nervous faces of his family and colleagues. Now, in Puerto Nuevo Ité, Miguel tells the community about that time in more detail.

«The UT [the prison in Barrancabermeja] is worse than a jail. People are put in the same cellblock that cannot live together. We didn’t have any water, ventilation, bathrooms, like dirty swine.  Many people arrive –doped, lit up, high- and walk around with knives».

For Miguel, life in a high-security prison meant fear and insecurity. There, «one lived expecting anything, be it a stabbing, beating, maltreatment or otherwise». Chilling stories circulated: that cyanide was put in the coffee, that a prisoner was doused with gasoline and set on fire.    

In October 2008, Miguel was transferred from the Modelo Prison to the Palo Gordo Prison in Girón, after some disturbances between prison guards and some prisoners. «Gas prices fell, got cheap, and there was plenty for everybody. No one was ready for this. It was difficult, a very hard situation. Cells were destroyed, practically everything, to the point where they had to cover the cells in paper».

Nonetheless, the situation did not improve at Palo Gordo, where there was «a mixture of paramilitaries, thieves, all kinds of drug addicts, guerrilla members and people from organisations who had nothing to do with those problems». After disturbances took place, they forced him to strip in order to conduct body-cavity searches. Sharing this with his community, Miguel described the situation as «an indignity for people such as us».

He not only had to confront fear, but also loneliness. «When you are locked up, you suffer a lot of consequences, remembering your community and family. You think about a lot of things, which doesn’t make you feel good».

The hardest thing was the news he received just one week after his arrest. His son, Miguel Ángel González Gutiérrez, also a human rights defender, was allegedly murdered by the Calibío Battalion of the XIV Brigade and later presented as a guerrilla member killed in combat. The incident occurred within the context of the 16 extrajudicial killings of farmers in the Cimitarra River Valley documented by the ACVC from 2002 to 2008, which were presented to the United Nations Special Rapporteur in July 2009. Up to the present, no one has been convicted for these crimes. According to the ACVC, these extrajudicial killings –as well as the baseless prosecutions against their leaders- are a strategy to weaken and discredit their work 1.  Miguel Jr. was also from Puerto Nuevo Ité. 

 During the accompaniment, the community held a memorial for him. Miguel Sr. tells the community:  «Just being detained, with nothing to do, is torture. It was torture on top of other acts of torture». «You have to see how you can settle yourself mentally to face these situations. Fortunately, as a person, what I did was think that even though I was physically imprisoned, I was not deprived of my ideas, thoughts, dreams and songs». It is worth mentioning the importance of songs for Miguel. Those who know him are always expecting some verse to come out of his mouth. Poetic songs of hope and solidarity. He concluded the memorial leading an emotional version of Un Millón de Amigos (A Million Friends) by Roberto Carlos.  

I want to believe in a future peace 

I want to have a safe home.

I want my son to walk firm,

Singing high, smiling freely.

I want to have a million friends 

To be able to sing even stronger.

Solidarity, both within and outside of the prison, was a source of great inspiration for the imprisoned ACVC members. «You have to remember all of the work done nationally and internationally. We have to feel good because we are not alone. We have a lot of support».

His deep conviction in his work also gave him the strength to continue forward. «They can investigate all up and down the Magdalena Medio about who I have been –someone who has fought for community action in pursuit of the development of the communities. If they thought prison would hurt me, well it failed because I left with even more drive to work. I saw what we were doing was just, so I don’t have to fear anyone».

With the solidarity of other political prisoners, things have been improving. «I was there studying quietly. We began to set up workshops to teach people about life in the countryside, about what we did as an organisation and to look at what we would do to support the communities when we were released».  

Miguel reflects that prison served as a school. «There you learn to value communities, value yourself, and value the need to work more every day for progress in the region».   

Now he is newly involved in this work, which inspires him. He is free to carry out ACVC projects and to try to guarantee a dignified life for the small farmer population and for future generations. But right now he is enjoying his freedom and his return to his beloved countryside.  

«Leaving prison, hopping around here, it’s very good, of course! It’s everything good in this world».

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1    «Miguel Ángel González Gutiérrez», Colombia Nunca Más, www.movimientodevictimas.org