1 de agosto 2024
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Outside there are ten patrol cars full of police officers. They shout, break in by force, and take me away crying. My family, not understanding what I did, watches in despair. But no, it’s not real. It’s just the terrible nightmare that has repeated itself for almost three years since I had to leave Nicaragua and go into exile to prevent the nightmare from becoming a reality.
But I still dream. I still fear. I still worry about those I left behind. And I still must deal with this racing heartbeat every time journalists or those who once practiced journalism are persecuted, expelled, or imprisoned in Nicaragua.
“I did the right thing by leaving,” I tell myself each time.
Living in exile is a challenge. And continuing to report on what is happening in Nicaragua, from outside, is an even greater challenge. But it is the reality in which the entire CONFIDENCIAL team works. Doing everything possible to contact sources inside and outside Nicaragua who can provide reliable, first-hand information, even under fear. To continue doing independent journalism while we seek ways to sustain ourselves as a media outlet in exile.
As the month of July ends, I can’t help but feel close to the latest persecution by the regime. Because three years ago, I also felt close to the reality that many are experiencing now. And in months like this, I involuntarily relive that July 7th. And I go through the day when a “policeman” came to “ask about me” at my door again. And I feel the same fear once more. And I ask myself again: “What did I do?” I simply dreamed of seeing my name printed alongside a report written by me. I just wanted to have a profession that filled me with pride. I just wanted to be a journalist. And for being a journalist, I am the “enemy.”
“Enemies of Humanity”
I didn’t even have the most notable “name.” And there weren’t many “headlines” or “great reports” that I signed. But today, three years after I left my country and stepped into nothingness, VP Rosario Murillo repeats the routine of the “month of the Revolution”. It starts with threatening speeches and ends with more journalists expelled, imprisoned, or disappeared. And it is not enough for her. July 2024 also ends with more priests persecuted, more NGOs canceled, and more State workers from the Judiciary, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Municipalities, and even some high-ranking military officers imprisoned or “purged.”
For the regime, journalists are “enemies of humanity.” “Among those enemies of humanity are the traitors and cowards, those who failed their people (….) those who sold out their homeland,” Murillo said in her noontime speech on July 18, 2024. And she is not only referring to journalists. That is how Rosario Murillo sees all of us who went into exile, escaping her persecution or trying to continue telling the truth.
But “hope is the last thing to be lost,” I tell myself. Or it is the last thing we should lose. Because even though that recurring nightmare in which the police imprison me for being a journalist returns to me, I also strive to hold on to the dream of returning someday. And although that dream of returning becomes more distant as long as the dictatorship exists, I trust that the time will come to see democracy reborn in Nicaragua.
I know that to see a Nicaragua without a dictatorship again, we must continue to report the arbitrariness, crimes, and state of terror that the Ortega-Murillo regime has imposed. That is why I continue working at Confidencial, even in exile. And that is why I try to make whoever I can see how important our readers’ contributions are. They are now one of the few ways left for independent journalism to continue existing.
This article was published in Spanish in Confidencial and translated by Havana Times. To get the most relevant news from our English coverage delivered straight to your inbox, subscribe to The Dispatch.
