in Embera language, “chami” translated “mountains” and “embera‘ means people. That is, the Embera Chamí are “people of the mountain range”. But Rivaleison, a one-year-old Embera baby, has lived more in the camel beeches of Bogotá National Park than in the mountains of Chocó, where his displaced family came from. He even spent a few weeks in the care of the Colombian Institute for Family Welfare (ICBF) because he was malnourished. Later, when the thousands of indigenous people who settled in the park reached an agreement with the government, he returned to his community, which had already been relocated to La Rioja, an integral conservation unit of the district of central Bogotá.
After spending a few weeks in this center, her family decided to return to Bagadó (Chocó), their ancestral territory. There they discovered that Rivaleison had contracted tuberculosis from the outbreak in La Rioja. Although the district had to do the paperwork for the Bagadó Minister of Health to bring the medicine to the minor, it took a long time and his health deteriorated. His father, Ribaldo, alerted the indigenous authorities that a few days ago there had been renewed threats against his community. They still don’t know if they have to return to Bogotá.
This case is just one example of what happened to the indigenous people in the national park. Most are still housed in various Comprehensive Protection Units (UPI) in Bogotá, which have become a hotbed of disease due to overcrowding. 700 people live in La Rioja alone, including around 400 minors. Its rooms, some of which are less than 5 x 5 meters, sleep more than 30 people; several directly on the floor because they have no beds, mats or even blankets. Access to drinking water and energy is sporadic, leaving several children bathing in standing water from the nearby environmental center memorial.
La Rioja, one of the Comprehensive Protection Units in Bogotá, on June 7, 2022. Daniela Díaz
These conditions sparked the tuberculosis outbreak, a disease that can be fatal if left untreated and has spread to other UPIs. According to the Indigenous Authorities in Bakatá (AIB), an organization that collects 16 indigenous peoples in Bogotá, there are already 40 infections, 30 of them in children under the age of five. They add that the medicines, which have to be provided by the Ministry of Health, do not arrive on time and sometimes they cannot use the concentrated oxygen machines to relieve the lung infection due to power problems.
The Secretariat has a much lower infection record and confirms that attention to the sick has been full: “All cases diagnosed with tuberculosis and who are in shelters or nursing homes are being treated, eliminating the risk of transmission of the disease. ‘ he detailed in a press release.
Laura García, who works for the AIB’s technical support, explains that the difference in registration is due to the fact that the secretariat counts only those who are directly present and not other cases that end in hospitalization. “The Secretariat is not conducting any early detection of the outbreak through screening or investigation. Late detection has serious consequences. This negligence is leading to ethnocide in the capital,” he assured El País.
No return or lifetime guarantee
Though the health impact is the epitome of the humanitarian crisis, the odyssey of these communities extends beyond Bogotá because, while many families yearn to return to their lands, there are no guarantees. In fact, several people who have returned to their reservations have again been threatened by illegal armed groups. With the intensification of the conflict in the country, the risk of new mass expulsions to the capital is growing.
Like last Wednesday morning when a group of 40 indigenous people, mostly children and women, arrived in La Rioja. They came expelled from Bagadó. They spent more than 12 hours without food and waiting outdoors for the government secretary and the Supreme District Council for Victims to allow them to enter the UPI, even though it was temporary where they could meet with their relatives. For now, this place is his only option to avoid sleeping on the street.
700 people live in La Rioja, including around 400 minors Diana Díaz
These latest displacements exacerbate an already tragic scenario. Well, these new groups need to be settled in new centers so as not to exacerbate the overcrowding of the UPIs, and with them new lines of rights restoration need to be established. All this has been taken into account in the commitments made with the district administration. Based on this example, an indigenous public district policy should be built together with the communities themselves, which would result in clear ways of paying attention to the displaced populations. However, with no significant progress on commitments due to budget deficits, according to county authorities, the new victims of evictions arriving in the city remain in limbo.
A web of violence
The revictimization against these communities has not arrived there. Violence has been used by the same institutions, such as when some officers make racist comments or physically harm them. The latest case came last week when a Pijao woman denounced that the police blackmailed and beat her for not paying them a fee to allow her to sell her handicrafts on the street, the only activity allowed they have found to cover basic needs.
Also, state support does not always have an ethnic focus that avoids practical problems or cultural conflicts and violence. For example, many do not speak Spanish and do not have access to services provided only in that language, are not allowed to practice their traditional healing practices, or are fed food that is incompatible with their culture.
Some of the rooms in La Rioja, which are less than 5 x 5 meters, sleep more than 30 people. Juan Carlos Zapata
“The institutions note that progress is being made, but nothing has materialized in the life of the indigenous communities. The reality today is that diseases continue to spread, hunger. We call on the control and monitoring authorities to meet their responsibilities in complying with the agreements.”
In the face of this panorama, the indigenous authorities assure that they will continue to resist and, if necessary, take de facto steps to demand the fulfillment of the 12 points agreed with the government more than three months ago. Meanwhile, they began a fundraising day to provide the basics, along with their own harmonization rituals, to keep their ancestral customs alive amid a city they find racist and hostile. They hope to lead the dignified lives they demand within the framework of Gustavo Petro’s government and the indigenous power that has given way to it.
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