Amira Flores Velázquez is 20 years old and studies social psychology at the Autonomous University of Puebla. Still fresh in her memory is February 20, 2019, when her father, the 36-year-old Nahua indigenous man, radio broadcaster, organic farmer and defender of the people of Amilcingo, Samir Flores Soberanes, was murdered without risk of punishment.
With her voice cracking with pain and trying to hold back her tears, she recounts: That morning three people went to wake him up. It was around 5:30. The house has no fence or fence; it is in an alley. They came in and talked to my grandmother. They told her they wanted to see him to arrange a spot on the radio. She confidently called my dad. He came out. They pulled him out about two meters away. A few minutes later they heard gunshots. The assassins left a sign.
I was the one to see him lying there. He was shot twice. I am his eldest daughter. There are four of us. The youngest was about to turn two. From that moment on we were left without a father. That day was total chaos. It was such a big blow that we felt unprotected; so painful that it hurt us all. Some celebrated his murder, for the rest of us felt the world fall apart.
Samir took it upon himself to defend our local water. He began the struggle against the thermoelectric plant in Huexca, Morelos. The megaproject was already planned during Calderón’s six-year term.
It began when Peña Nieto took office. It continues to this day. My dad went to meet with several compañeros, to the villages, to many towns, to explain the problems that were coming. Just one day before he was killed, he went to an assembly in Jonacatepec, where the Morelos Integral Project (PIM) was being discussed.
There he verbally clashed with Hugo Eric Flores, lawyer for the Acteal paramilitaries and federal government delegate for Morelos. In the early morning of the following day he was executed (https://shorturl.at/rWUSC).
This struggle has been going on for 12 years. My father was also the founder of a radio station in the community of Amilcingo, and two community radio stations in the surrounding area. The radios were a great asset for the towns that were nearby. They provided information about the thermoelectric plant.
It was a very strong town that kept fighting. But the organized crime got uglier, and the crime got a little bit worse. The narco took over the community. You didn’t see that before.
Now, at 8 o’clock at night there is no one on the street. When my dad was there, at one o’clock the children were still playing, there were stalls and businesses selling.
People are afraid. It’s even normal for them to hear about people killing people. Or hear gunshots. Or see pickup trucks with armed men. Nothing happens. It has become a habit.
Before, thanks to him, it wasn’t so powerful. He wasn’t afraid of anything. He could stand in front of the governor, who at that time was Graco Ramírez, or Peña Nieto and tell them what we the people wanted and what we did not want. What we needed, what we demanded. He was part of the Front for the Defense of Land and Water in Morelos, Puebla and Tlaxcala, and of the National Indigenous Congress (https://shorturl.at/WDZWd).
When he was there, my dad was our protector. Not only for us. He said: I do it for me, for my children and for other people’s children. That’s what he did and I thank him for it. Now, I get threats all the time. They have tried to approach me in an uncomfortable way. My mother as well.
Samir was also part of the Parents’ Committee of the Emiliano Zapata school in the center of Amilcingo, damaged by the earthquake of September 2017. Governor Graco Ramírez, of obscure background, and the ejido representatives, agreed to build new classrooms with resources from the thermoelectric plant. But, the authorities removed the key to the school and took it to another location. Flores, along with his cousin, teacher Jorge Velázquez, 42, a graduate of the Normal Rural de Tenería and with a master’s degree in Humanities from the UPN, fought for the school to remain in the center of Amilcingo. The town won. The school is now called Samir Flores Soberanes. In March of this year, it began to be used and on July 19 it was formally inaugurated. To celebrate, they organized a festival of murals that recall the resistance.
At school,” explains teacher Jorge,” we work to prevent organized crime from stealing our children. They want to take them away from us! We say no! We will continue to train them to be good citizens. We want doctors. Also, from the town and the classrooms, they have kept alive the demand for the living appearance of the normalista José Luis Luna Torres, a native of Amilcingo, one of the 43 from Ayotzinapa.
Partly for that reason they visited the rural teacher training college, despite the obstacles put in their way by the education authorities, who believe it is a den of vandals or worse. They left in two buses on a Friday. When they arrived at Raúl Isidro Burrgos, the children chanted slogans of solidarity. The normalistas were surprised and in admiration.
The Morelos students made it clear that the Ayozis are their allies, their friends and are always welcome. As are, also, the rural normalistas from Panotla, Teteles and Amilcingo. They collaborate in the school with the children.
Original text by Luis Hernández Navarro in La Jornada published on August 20th, 2024.
Translation by Schools for Chiapas.