After hours of walking through the middle of a minefield in complete darkness, David (not his real name) found his way to freedom. This was the only way to escape the armed group he was forced to join. He achieved this feat with the utmost secrecy. Then he raised his arms in the air: this was the signal that would warn the Colombian military that he was the young man the ombudsman's office had warned about hours earlier – the sign that would save him from being shot.
The news reached the Ombudsman's Office thanks to Ana (not her real name), an indigenous leader. David's family had contacted her and asked for help. Her son had managed to warn her about his escape. Ana's participation was crucial: she knew exactly who to contact. She has been helping the families of children forcibly recruited in Colombia's Cauca Valley region for nearly half a decade.
David's story has become part of the landscape of the region's north, one of Colombia's most disputed areas. According to the Association of Indigenous Councils of Northern Cauca (ACIN) – the main indigenous organization in the region – more than 300 minorities have been forcibly recruited into armed groups in the last two years. The human rights team explains that recruitment changed radically after the peace agreement was signed between the government and the FARC in 2016. As the conflict escalates again, this tragedy is increasing. Ana has counted 117 complaints so far in 2023… and she assures EL PAÍS that the underreporting is huge.
The ombudsman's office has pointed out the risk. According to the company, officials have reported 344 cases of recruitment of minors in the country since 2021. At least 48% of these are from 2023. Most complaints come from the Cauca Valley, followed by the Nariño, Arauca and Putumayo regions. “A very worrying situation remains: recruitment [largely takes place among the] “Indigenous population, where 75% of cases are concentrated,” explains Carlos Camargo Assis, Colombia’s ombudsman, in a public statement.
Behind these numbers there are other features that make the already tragic situation even worse. Andrea (not her real name) – who belongs to one of the civil society organizations active in the Cauca Valley – claims that after the withdrawal of the Western Joint Command of the now-extinct FARC, new and numerous illegally armed groups were gradually created. Over the years they have grown. According to Andrea, there are now over 1,000 insurgents in the region from around 60 members.
The Jaime Martínez Column – part of the umbrella of FARC dissidents known as the Central General Staff – is the armed structure that holds the greatest power in the northern part of the Cauca Valley. It is the company most often accused of forcibly recruiting minors into its ranks. The United Nations reiterated this warning in 2022 when Colombia appeared again in its annual report on children and armed conflict.
The second largest recruiter of children in Colombia is the National Liberation Army (ELN), which has a long-running dispute with columnist Jaime Martínez. Then there are the groups that are part of the other major federation of dissidents: the Second Marquetalia, led by former FARC leader Iván Márquez. They intervened in this regional dispute, without much success.
Andrea explains that when recruitment resumed in the north of the Cauca Valley – a subregion officially made up of 13 municipalities – the minors recruited were usually sons, nephews or cousins of indigenous authorities or older youths who were indigenous guards. The armed groups valued boys who were in good physical shape, had some political training, and were part of the region's social fabric. Between 2018 and 2019, the age range of those recruited was between 14 and 17 years old.
The dynamics have deteriorated since then. In 2020, the ACIN began registering complaints about the recruitment of children as young as 11 years old. And it is now more common for the victims to be minors in extreme poverty or minors who have been exposed to domestic violence. They are promised food, clothing or financial compensation. Likewise, massive recruitment raids, in which gunmen kidnap groups of boys and girls outside of schools, became more common after 2020. The most notorious cases occurred in March this year. One happened in an educational institution in the city of Caloto. Another incident occurred the same week on San Pedro Street in the same community when some children were on their way to a local school.
Faced with these risks, the region's indigenous communities have responded with internal measures to control and monitor children. In this way they managed to recover two kidnapped minors. They have set up alarm systems: if the presence of unknown or armed men is detected near a school, the indigenous guard quickly arrives to protect the children. An effective protocol, but one that has made them staunch enemies of illegal armed groups.
Ana's cell phone is always on. She knows that a person's life often depends on her answering a phone call. Not only do indigenous families come to her, but also the young people themselves. She remembers a call in which she was informed about a group of young people who were on their way to a meeting with a recruiter. She activated the protocol, mobilized the indigenous guard and managed to stop the vehicle in which the insurgent was traveling. It turned out that the informant was one of the boys who refused to let his friends go to war.
That was an extraordinary result. Andrea explains that armed groups have set up illegal recruitment mafias – they sometimes delegate the recruitment of their peers to young people. On other occasions, they hire third parties who are responsible for identifying the children or young people, following them, convincing them, kidnapping them and taking them to the camps. These third parties are paid according to the number of children recruited.
The complexity of human trafficking for purposes of armed conflict has resulted in a local problem becoming increasingly widespread. NGOs in the region noted that children enrolled in the northern part of the Cauca Valley were eventually transferred to the south of Cauca or to nearby towns such as Tumaco and Buenaventura, where violence is prevalent.
Ana fights against the recruitment of children in the Cauca Valley.Nastassia Kantorowicz Torres
Fight against the tide
“As long as the children need me, I won’t give up,” explains Ana. She no longer has much peace of mind: thanks to the many cases she has handled, she has become the number one reference in the region. In the remote villages – where she goes to receive reports from the families of missing children – she has been profiled by insurgents. She has learned to move in a dangerous environment.
Ana has no bodyguards and receives no compensation for this work. Therefore, she always had to have a job to pay her bills while forging alliances to combat forced conscription and ensure her safety. It was'nt easy. The obstacles she encounters every day are increasing. It must contend with negligent officials, a precarious relationship between local and national institutions, and the high economic costs of moving entire families from one place to another for safety reasons.
Their tasks are varied and painful. The majority of minorities who have fled or are extradited by the militants (the Office of the Ombudsman or the International Red Cross sometimes intervenes in a surrender) return to the indigenous community due to physical health problems, such as injuries from explosives, or psychological problems back suffered from sexual violence.
If they turn up dead, it becomes even more difficult. According to Andrea and Ana, this is becoming more and more common. “You give them a weapon and send them into battle,” complains Andrea. Just a few months ago, 40 bodies were found in the town of Silvia in rural Cauca. Some of them were recruited minors. Fearing reprisals, the families discreetly claimed the bodies. And at night, without witnesses, they buried her.
The impact of this violence on Indigenous peoples is profound and irreparable. “They are uprooting our seeds,” Andrea reflects. Edwin Capaz – the former senior councilor of the Regional Indigenous Council of Cauca – agrees. “The war cuts us apart, it cuts off the importance of the indigenous peoples. [The violence has] These generations of children, teenagers and young people are our most vulnerable side,” he emphasizes. Both Andrea and Edwin agree that the measures taken by the Colombian state are not enough to combat a phenomenon that is growing inexorably.
Despite the social and human impact, the issue has not been discussed in the dialogue that the government has initiated with the ELN or the Central General Staff. So far, forced recruitment has failed to achieve the public attention that the kidnapping epidemic has garnered. “[Forced recruitment] “It must be an urgent point because it means not only for the indigenous peoples, but for the population in general,” emphasizes Councilor Capaz. While this is happening, Ana, her community and the organizations she works with are not about to give up. They continue to trade with whatever they can muster.
Ana is driven by the strength she finds in her own story of fighting violence. After her interview with EL PAÍS, she will prepare to hear another complaint from a family.
A young woman who voluntarily came to accompany her a few weeks ago is a silent witness to the interview, taking notes and listening attentively.
“How do you do so much, Doña Ana? “I don't understand.”
“Because everything is done with love. “It is in our hands to save lives.”
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