13 OCTOBER 1998: It is the season’s first day of coffee harvest in the region La Secreta, eastern Colombia. The mountains are dotted with people reaping the bright red beans. Around four o’clock in the afternoon, Silver Polo’s father returns home, tired after a day’s work. He lights the hearth and takes a brief rest, while waiting together with his son for the coffee to boil.
Suddenly, they hear the sound of screams coming from the mountains; sign of a faraway conflict they never expected would reach them. A group of at least 80 paramilitary enter the village and walk from door to door with a list of names, searching for the women and men to be seized. Silver Polo and his father hide inside their house; they cannot see what is going on outside. The son does not leave his father’s side, and they hear screams of pain across the mountains of La Secreta.
Close to 20 people are retained against their will. Women grouped on one side, men on the other. At night men and women are tortured and murdered. Some bodies are left in such a state they cannot be recognised. The next day, 90 people are forced to abandon their homes. For Silver Polo, the immediate future looks dark, and for the sake of their own safety, they leave the land.
The persecution, the intimidation, and the selective killings to control the population continue to this day. In 1998, violence in the region displaced 1,010 people, according to the official registry. In the backlands of La Secreta, the coffee trees was removed and replaced by coca shrubs.
30 OCTOBER 2015: Silver Polo drives with escort for an hour down a narrow unpaved route. Behind the greenery visible from the road, sparse red dots of coffee reveal the land’s past. When he reaches La Secreta, Polo stops the bulletproof vehicle.
More than 25 people have gathered, waiting for him, their representative and leader. “After the paramilitary demobilisation that took place between 2005 and 2006, most of the population started to go back to their lands by their own free will and without any assistance,” says Polo. The villagers seem calm and silent while welcoming him. They find their seat, and when the meeting begins, they start talking.
“We are in the middle of nowhere,” says Juan Alberto Olivarez Perez, Vice-President of La Secreta. “In the middle of the mountains,” he continues. “We were a thousand, but many have left and fled,” says one of the villagers, Estela Crespo. “This is our land, our family, for the love of god,” adds Hostensia Carrasquilla, another villager.
In 2005, La Secreta started the process of liberating itself from violence. The coca crops planted in the neighbouring hamlets were eradicated and substituted with maize, coriander, yucca, plantain and coffee. Most of the settlers came back to their farms. “The infestation of the coca plantations disappeared, there were no more illicit crops and the positive leadership of Silver Polo started to transform our situation,” says villager Euto Castro de la Cruz.
The victims’ law
According to Amnesty International, at least eight million hectares of land – some 14 per cent of Colombia’s territory – are abandoned or forcibly appropriated as a result of the conflict. Some of those forced to flee were in the wrong place at the wrong time, while others have been targeted as part of a deliberate policy to remove people from areas that are rich in natural resources. Through the historic approbation of the Victims’ Law in 2011, the government aimed at settling issues considering formalisation of land ownership, land restitution, and reparation for the victims of the conflict. After years of mistrust among the inhabitants of La Secreta, they started talking to each other again.
To reclaim our lands, we had to stay together; that was the strategy that would make us successful
SILVER POLO, villager
“The mistrust was eating us from the inside; we did not believe in the laws or in the government, and we felt alone for decades,” says Polo, referring to the start of the land restitution process. “To reclaim our lands, we had to stay together; that was the strategy that would make us successful,” he declares. Silver Polo’s thorough study of the Victims’ Law, in addition to his patience and dedication to gather the inhabitants of La Secreta, defined the future of the people of the village. “In a sense, Polo’s leadership was more important than the Victims’ Law,” says Juan Perez. “It is the leadership, the unity, and the enthusiasm of the community that really has transformed us,” adds villager Estela Crespo. “As we no longer have coca shrubs in our lands, we are rid of a plant that affects our community negatively; all of us work with coffee and we are not forced by armed groups,” declares Perez.
By the same
La Secreta turned into an emblematic case of restitution. The Castillo triplets, whose parents were murdered in the massacre 13 October 1998, were the first minors in the country to be given back their land in 2013. Although it has been nearly four years since the process began under the Victims’ and Land Restitution Laws, only a small proportion of the lands in Colombia have been returned to their rightful occupants.
Nonetheless, as of today, Perez declares that the peace and calm of the inhabitants of La Secreta has come at a high price for the community leaders. Silver Polo is one of the country’s 450 displaced leaders who have been threatened. The armed struggle for land continues to be the main cause of displacement in Colombia, and displaced people remain affected. "Communities decided to return and eradicate coca crops in their lands. People changed illicit crops for coffee saplings. That is one of the reasons why armed groups see us as a stone in their shoes, they do not want our process to prosper,” says Perez.
Colombian authorities have determined that more than 400 claimants and threatened leaders are in a situation of "extraordinary risk", because of their endeavours with land restitution. During 2014 and 2015, Polo has received more than 12 death threats; one of the latest threats has been against him and his entire community.
The price
Supporting land restitution processes and protecting the lives of leaders such as Silver Polo are among several important steps on the road toward peace in Colombia. “I hope that the deaths of our friends and relatives end now and forever, our land must be safe,” says Polo.
I hope that the deaths of our friends and relatives end now and forever, our land must be safe.
SILVER POLO, villager
His Father, also named Silver Polo, is a humble man with a strong personality. Back in the 1980s, the guerrilla forced village men and their sons to join their armed forces. “At that moment, I had to take a tough decision: I had to take Silver out of the hamlet to prevent that he was forcibly recruited. That was when he was first displaced,” tells Polo’s father.
“Fulfilling my father’s dream of liberty in a place where violence is to be expected is not easy,” says Polo, casting a glance at his security escort standing 20 metres away. In the last 18 months, threats from armed groups have become frequent. The inhabitants say that for each property that is given back, armed groups demand a 500 dollar fee. “We know they are staying in the area around the hamlet. These people want to illegally charge us a million pesos (350 US dollars) when we barely have enough to feed ourselves,” says villager Euto Catro. The current situation reminds people of the days prior to the massacre of 1998, and some inhabitants do not sleep very well.
Violence and threats
So dire is this situation that Silver Polo had to flee from his land a third time, after receiving constant threats through his landline, or through text messages and flyers. His son’s house was attacked by armed men. Now he, who planned to be a free man in his village, is forced to live a nomadic life, and is always surrounded by security guards to protect him. “That is the price paid by village leaders in this country: make a change, advocate legally recognised rights of victims, and live under continuous threats,” says Polo.
That is the price paid by village leaders in this country: make a change, advocate legally recognised rights of victims, and live under continuous threats.
SILVER POLO, villager
Even though La Secreta represents a successful case, the continuous threats against land restitution leaders such as Silver Polo (and other land restitution leaders in the country), might be detrimental, not only for the implementation of the Victims’ Law, but also for all displaced people that are waiting to return to their lands. “The threats that occur during the restitution process in La Secreta, and new forms of intimidation and violence, is a serious threat to peace”, says Perez. La Secreta, and all the other cases of villagers returning to their lands, illustrate the demand of the Colombian civil society to halt the relentless armed violence. The villagers have no more time to wait. The obligations of the Colombian government to keep diverse communities together must be effective. “When people talk of leadership, usually, there is a tendency to believe that leaders are those who fit the ideal of a person with only positive traits, but I’m not perfect,” says Silver Polo. “My only secret is that I have kept the community organised in order to face the conflict and its consequences, for only together will we achieve peace,” he concludes, standing next to his father by a coffee tree, smiling.