We depart our hotel at 8.15am, longest lie-in we’ve had so far.
The political block, patio six, of the Buen Pastor women’s prison holds women who are awaiting trial as well as those convicted. Inmates include trade unionists, student leaders and community leaders along with members of the para-military and guerrilla groups. Children under three are allowed to stay with their mothers in the prison or they can stay with relatives if the relatives are willing to look after them. The alternative is that the state looks after them, but the mothers are to tell us of their fears of abuse against the children in such a situation.
Security is extremely tight. There are four different security gates to go through and we receive a stamp on our wrists at each one as well as body searching. Eventually we enter patio seis. Grimness doesn’t describe the scene we encounter. Although it is a warm day, it feels cold inside. We sit down in a circle and hear the women’s tales. Everyone is charged, or being investigated for the same crime, "rebellion". In Colombia trade union activism is considered rebellion. We tell the women that if going on a march, waving a flag or organising workers to defend their rights is rebellion then we are rebels too. They laugh and clap. Many relate their tales, here’s one.
A woman who appeared to be in her 40’s told us that she was a member of ANTOC, the health union whose headquarters we visited the other day. She told us that she had been arrested and accused of rebellion for taking part in a demonstration and for fighting for workers rights. If that was rebellion, she said, she was guilty. Her entire family, husband, brothers, sister and wider family had all either been murdered or arrested and accused of rebellion. Quite frankly, she said, she would rather be in here because the alternative outside was death.
Another women with a six-month old child in her arms and visible bullet wounds on her right arm told how she was a member of the guerrilla group FARC. She had been captured by the army during a FARC operation and as she had been the only one captured she had been charged with every action committed by the FARC in the previous two years. She has been sentenced to thirty-six years imprisonment.
Towards the end of our meeting a spokeswomen for the prisoners thanks us for coming to see them and begs us to take their stories to the outer world. We are each given an envelope bearing the inscription “a small gift for big people”. Inside is an e-mail address for keeping in touch with them (presumably censored by the authorities) and a bracelet made by the women themselves in the Colombian national colours and bearing the word “libertad”, freedom.
Once outside we stand around in silent contemplation of what we had just seen and heard. It reminded me of coming out from a funeral and not knowing what to say or do to comfort the bereaved.
In the afternoon we have a meeting at the headquarters of the secret police, the Administrative Security Department, known as DAS. The head of DAS is a newly sworn in woman whose name I didn’t catch. Her predecessor, had been the Deputy Minister of Defence who was appointed some thirty months ago after the previous head had been arrested for alleged links with para-military groups. He is still in prison.
We are assured that a thorough investigation had been carried into the organisation and that they had only found four or five other people with links to the para-militaries and all had been dismissed. Further questioning elicited the information that the investigation had been conducted by themselves, which hardly inspired confidence in the outcomes. We are assured that the secret police do not keep files on trade union activists or leaders and, despite what our trade union contacts had told us, there was no collusion between DAS and either the para-militaries or the army in relation to trade unions or their activities.
In the evening we have dinner with family members of kidnap victims being held by the FARC and who wish to discuss with us proposals for a humanitarian exchange of hostages/prisoners between the government and the FARC. One woman is the wife of a high-ranking right wing Senator whose husband has been held hostage since 2001. She has had no contact with him whatsoever since then but knows he is still alive because of reported sightings from others who had been released.
Another is the mother of former presidential candidate Ingrid Betancourt who was captured by the FARC during her presidential campaign in 2002. There are other family members of hostages and as you can imagine their emotional pleas for help in securing the release of their loved ones was very powerful indeed. We promise to add our voice to the call for a humanitarian exchange.
