Colombia violence: Kidnapped boy, 11, released after 18 days
Police said that the kidnappers were part of the Frente Jaime Martínez, an off-shoot of the Farc rebel group that continued fighting after Farc agreed a 2016 peace deal.The boy's mother described his release as "a miracle", adding that the weeks he had been in captivity had been "horrible, a nightmare".Many dissident rebel groups such as the Frente Jaime Martínez finance themselves through extortion and kidnappings for ransom, as well as drug trafficking. The commander of the regional police force, Brigadier General Carlos Oviedo, said the boy's stepfather had been the real target of the kidnappers, but that they had seized the boy when they found that the stepfather was not at home.The stepfather, a local merchant, told local media that he was not involved in any illicit business and said he did not know why he had been targeted.It is not clear if a ransom was paid for the boy's release.His stepfather said the boy had told the family that he had been shackled for the first four days of his captivity but was in good health. His mother said that her son appeared anxious and that he had bitten his fingernails down. He was taken to the local hospital for examination. The mayor of Jamundí, the town where the family lives, thanked the local community "for not giving up" and for holding rallies demanding the boy's release. Colombia's vice-president, Francia Márquez, had also demanded that the boy be freed. "Ife is sacred and the freedom of any human being is non-negotiable, less so when it's that of a child," she wrote in a statement.
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'It is one of the most dangerous dives I have ever done and one of the most intense searches I have ever undertaken,' says Albarracín, who searched a 20-metre radius surrounding each designated point of interest. In parallel, another team ventured on to the marshy low-tide terrain, where the piangüeras – renowned for their skill in navigating the mud-bound mangroves while harvesting molluscs – combed through seven designated search corridors in the mud. There, the UBPD team quickly realised that their standard kit was useless, as the muddy terrain made heavy equipment redundant and rendered investigators and anthropologists unfamiliar with the landscape virtually immobile. Rodríguez says: 'There was no other element that we could use in this field other than the piangüeras' hands. This knowledge that isn't in textbooks, and that we ourselves don't have, allowed us to minimise errors.' Before the searches began, religious leaders carried out a spiritual reconciliation ceremony to ask the estuary for forgiveness – a symbolic act to acknowledge the pain it had absorbed as a site of body disposal. An altar was built at the UBPD's office in Buenaventura, where religious leaders remained throughout the mission, reading messages and interpreting signs, including changes in the weather, believed to be communications from their gods. Before venturing into the waters, the teams were harmonised – the UBPD scientists as well as community members who would be entering the estuary. Each received a small protective bracelet, meant to accompany them throughout their fieldwork. The waters surrounding Buenaventura are murky and dark, subject to strong currents and shifting tides. They are also heavily contaminated by the city's busy port as well as by the surrounding stilt communities, which often use the waterways to dispose of waste. 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