“I felt like I was in a movie. It was one of imminent death……” It happened during the National Strike of 2021. Massive, like few others. Even the most archaic of its vestiges resonates far from oblivion. It must be so.
By Cristian Gasca and Óscar Durán.
Around 9:00 p.m. on the night of May 4 of the same year, the Immediate Attention Command (CAI) of Metrovivienda, in the city of Bogota, was in flames. The demonstrations resulting from the social outbreak were increasing, those that deviated from the course of the peaceful protest insisted on taking on a relevance of calamitous precedents. At the police facility, located in the southwestern locality of Bosa, there were several uniformed officers.
Among them was Deputy Superintendent Jenifer Adriana Ramirez. The entourage that took him in that night is still alive.
At the time, Jenifer had more than a decade of experience in the ranks of the National Police. Her present affiliation was with the Carabineros and Environmental Protection Directorate (DICAR). Since her childhood she discovered a fervent fascination for nature. He was passionate about animals and plants. She had even contemplated becoming a professional biologist, so she found her job at DICAR, which was especially concerned with the integral defense of parks and nature reserves, extremely rewarding. She worked in a veterinary service clinic, so she used to attend surgeries and recovery processes provided to the animals that were referred there. Jenifer had previous training as an agricultural business administrator. She was quickly relating to the vocational field that always had to please her.
Although during her adolescence she was not genuinely interested in going into public service work, she was finally convinced, given the persuasive insistence of her family. Her father served as an agent until the day of his pension, due to health reasons. It was he who constantly suggested to Jénifer to opt for a similar path within the National Police. She agreed in an almost blasé manner, enrolled in the corresponding calls for applications once she finished her technological career. It was then that, after a while and to her surprise, she was chosen from a select group of applicants. Jenifer’s father did not hide his joy, which was later matched by the joy of some other relatives who had also served in uniform. Uncles and cousins, among them. Theirs was cause for celebration.
Jenifer’s preparation began promptly. She was notified of her selection after one December, and by January she should be in training. She acquired all the necessary equipment and set about, now fully prepared, to obtain her new training qualification. He did just that. He did not notice any inconvenience during that stage, which had to stimulate one of the most innate qualities he had always had in his personal range: the desire to learn. His distinguished taste for biology was coupled early on with that desire, so purely human, to enrich one’s own knowledge. A pillar of educational ability. Jenifer was captivated by academia, especially that of the science of life that had attracted her since she was a child. As the days went by, she would reach the incredible milestone of intertwining the paths of her passion and the consummate predilection of her peers.
La preparación de Jenifer dio inicio con prontitud. Se le notificó de su selección al cabo de un diciembre, y en enero habría de encontrarse ya cursando. Adquirió todo el equipamiento necesario y se dispuso, ahora en completa tesitura, a llevar a cabo la obtención de su nuevo título formativo. Así lo hizo. No advirtió inconveniente alguno durante aquella etapa, que hubo de estimular una de las más innatas cualidades con la que siempre contó en su aflorado abanico personal: la de aprender. Su distinguido gusto por la biología se acopló tempranamente a ese deseo, tan puramente humano, de enriquecer el propio conocimiento. Pilar de la capacidad educativa. A Jenifer le cautivaba la academia, en especial, la de aquella ciencia de la vida que desde pequeña le atrajo. Con el paso de los días conseguiría alcanzar el increíble hito de entrelazar laboralmente los rumbos de su pasión y de la consumada predilección de sus congéneres.
“People could come from all sides, from each of the four corners. The park is very big. I didn’t know the place, and now I know it even less. The thought of going back to that area of town literally terrifies me.”.
Immediately after the end of this period, she was assigned to Bogotá. Four years passed. She also completed a brief occupational cycle in the city of Barranquilla and then returned to the capital. The apex of time is often evaded. Of months and decades. All in all, Jenifer would end up demonstrating her great performance as a police officer without any problems. She then joined the DICAR to begin to live her well-remembered period of great complacency. It was in the Directorate where she found the greatest joy of her career. The opportunity to simultaneously devote herself both to the reminiscences of the vocation she always longed for and to the family yearnings that surrounded her brought her, quite simply, happiness.
During the same period of service, Jenifer gave birth to her daughter. She was twenty-six years old at the time, to which we can now add the twelve years that the little girl, who lives today in her father’s care due to the mental sequelae that to this day afflict Jenifer’s health, has successfully completed her twelfth birthday. She was not experiencing any prelude at the time. Unfortunately, she would later. Her little girl never ceased to be a reason to overcome, an inspiring cause and the ultimate architect of the struggle she has been carrying on, with ever more vigor, since that dim and remote night in 2021. A Tuesday in May. The reason why several members of DICAR were supporting the security perimeters of the roads during the protest was due to the magnitude of the protest. At the same time, there were large crowds all over the country. The Police opted to deploy additional units to reinforce the already planned public security operations. The popular demand to the authorities was forceful, and whoever did not clearly demonstrate it during those days was not aware of it: respect the constitutional right to peaceful demonstration.
Both the heated ideological debates among the country’s leading political figures and the related news bulletins became a secondary focus of attention once the first acts of violence began to take hold in the streets.
The unilateral call to mobilization was conceived just 6 days before, on April 128. The scope of such a task would not soon cease; on the contrary, it would take possession of an extraordinary ode of durability typical of the great social deeds. The one that was now taking place was already an observable reality and in its reminiscence the identity of its victims began to be outlined, those who have more prominent names than political affiliations. In this order, both data are written in their records. If there were any discourse in the republican debate that proposed the exchange of such importance, it would have to be interpreted as the most personal of judgments. Zero collectivity. But it does not exist, and, if it does, it is not validated. Rightly so.
Jenifer and some of her companions were then directed to the Metrovivienda CAI to reinforce the police presence at the facility, whose strategic location is still questioned because of the size of the El Recreo Metropolitan Park, a public space where the base was located. A central location. Almost in an exposed condition. Mishaps like the one that night were not to be prevented during the course of architectural planning. “People could come from all sides, from each of the four corners. The park is very big. I didn’t know the place, and now I know it even less. The idea of returning to that area of the city literally terrifies me,” says Jenifer, as she recreates the scene.
He remembers noticing the arrival of a crowd of mostly young people. It was growing progressively. A troop of the then Mobile Anti-Riot Squad (ESMAD) was already positioned in the area. The consequent tension in the face of the possibility of a direct confrontation became a collective feeling that was finally unleashed after an unsuccessful attempt at mediation between the chiefs in charge of the station and some of the people present. The lack of clarification of the facts is common among actors and witnesses. The priority, in the face of such a contingency, was to act in the midst of the confusion. “At that moment they began to throw balls at us like ping pong balls. The ESMAD started with stun bombs and gas. Everything was smoke,” recalls Jenifer. Chaos took over a preferential place.
“Calm down; because, if you don’t, you’re going to drown. The gas is obviously for them, but it spreads throughout the atmosphere in which we are concentrated. Calm down. It’s a burn,” one of her companions responded to Jenifer’s express statement regarding the inevitable difficulty in breathing due to partial inhalation of the compound. Both were waiting in close proximity at the scene. The squad’s ammunition was running low. The impact of describing the sequence as if it were a warlike conflict deserves every kind of reaction, except the indifferent one. The non-lethality of the weapons used was one of the few distinctions that separated that reality from a vividly fictional fact. As if to contemplate such a reflection at that moment.
The uniformed support personnel did not have the same equipment provisions as the others. Hence their role. At the instant it was deemed necessary, each and every one of them was informed of the sudden need to withdraw. As soon as the Squadron’s supplies began to run low, the decision was made. It was imminent. Jenifer fortified her vital integrity with the protective equipment she had: the usual uniform, a sturdy vest provided by her husband, her shield and a portly helmet. She also had a tonfa with her; however, she needed to flee, not attack.
The anarchic proscenium stretched the length of Metropolitan Park. The agents ran; Jenifer did the same. The implausible panorama conditioned the attention of those who were there. The accuracy of the senses was limited to the efforts of the latter in their own exclusive subsistence. It was not a choice. The alternative was unique. As she moved forward, Jenifer felt a sharp blow to her arm. With the impact, a simultaneous sensation of heat. She plummeted to the ground.
Before he could gain any acceptance, he gathered all the forces at his disposal with the imperative purpose of vigorously holding the pieces of his armor. His shield, in primordial order; by logical order. He managed to rejoin, making use of the same buckler as a ground support. It was possible for her to take a few more steps; however, after more than a few of these, she was hit again by another shock. She received it in her leg. It must have generated the same thermal perception as the previous one. She did not manage to recover on that second occasion.
Jenifer had no more compunction than to adopt a continuous fetal position before the arrival and subsequent outrage by the hooded people who immediately swarmed around her. “I was screaming for help. They started hitting me with my own tonfa and broke the shield. They were kicking me all over my body. It was very strong,” he recapitulates. The experience brings together all the vertices of martyrdom. In his memory there is also a frantic taste of blood that invaded his throat and the unmistakable roar of tear gas bombs lying in the distance. He assumed that these were the same devices used in another riot zone. Not in his own. There were none left.
It was incalculable how much time elapsed in resistance. Seconds or minutes. Jenifer’s judgment is evaded by the temporal notion of the ordeal. What she remembers is the way it continued. She spotted a green garment, then insisted again on her call for help. The one who carried the garment took her with force, pulled on her integrity and made it easier for her to get up. They resumed their escape. Jenifer turned her gaze to the rear. “I saw a group of those hooded men and they stood watching us… I keep that image, it was a lot of people. It’s very clear to me that it was both men and women. At that point I just took off running,” she recalls.
The adrenaline rush she was still experiencing did not stop Jenifer from wondering about the identity of the mysterious figure who had come to her aid. It was obvious that he was a police officer because of his now clear clothing, but she did not recognize him. He could tell from her voice that it was a woman. “Run, run. We can’t be overtaken,” she implored Jenifer, who, even as she detailed the vocal tone, continued to be unable to identify her. With unmistakable certainty she knew the degree of importance that this matter had among her priorities; nevertheless, it did not cease to attract her attention.
Exhausted, both agents struggled to keep up with their companions, who had previously traveled the route they were now fleeing. Jenifer opted to exhaust all seemingly considerable alternatives, seeking refuge in some of the nearby houses, where several residents were timidly peeking out to satisfy their curiosity about what was happening. They had no clarity on the matter. While Jenifer made them aware of her request, they refused. They pointed out that the women, even if pursued, could pose serious security risks to their homes if the pursuers found them there.
A bus driver’s response to the same request was similar. Fearful, he refused to offer the interior of his transport as an asylum for Jenifer and her companion. His fears were the same: the possibility of being attacked, his own safety or that of the vehicle. Similar cases were reported for weeks during the mobilizations. The longed-for protection of the duo would only come in the form of the assistance of a police motorized team that came to the scene in response to an excellent radio call. Hopes were not fading. Neither did Jenifer. Because of her exacerbating injuries, she was given priority by the rescuers. She managed to board one of the motorcycles with difficulty as it started up.
Jenifer’s body was still overcome by the incessant secretion of adrenaline. She remembers exactly experiencing, temporarily, a strange sensation of immunity to pain that, under other circumstances, would have caused her serious aggravation as a result of the attack. Little by little, the frenetic effect of that anatomical state began to fade. Every minute that passed gave room for the perceptive increase of the damage. The situation not only implied an exorbitant demand of a physical nature, but also the composure was becoming difficult to maintain. Jenifer gave free rein to the choleric episode in the midst of emotional shocks that would end up increasing her weariness. It was not for less, the crusade she had just executed in defense of her life was prodigious.
The main population centers and similar epicenters in other cities were facing the same fate. The night of May 4, 2021 was a premonitory night of what the national integrity was about to face. But not only was the future anticipated, but it was already being lived in a very real way. In Bogota, the consequent chaos was erupting. The Transmilenio system, the main engine of city mobility, collapsed. Portals and stations. Américas, Suba, Caracas, Eje Ambiental, Calle 26. The maelstrom covered south and north.
Each and every concentration point added to the already chaotic panorama. Even the most remote road closure. The passages of the capital city, which in their totality are characterized for awaiting recognized scenarios of gothic style at the end of the nights, looked little less than unrecognizable. The apotheosic chain of sonorous onslaughts now reigned and the usual blackness of the nocturnal twilight was cruelly diminished by the roar of the flames. Wherever they glowed, they seemed to multiply.
The paralyzing demise of public normality was comparable to that experienced inside homes. In those where pots and pans were being banged and in those where they were not. Both were proof. In the metropolitan area surrounding the urbanization of Bosa, where Jenifer was located, there were innumerable transitory blockades. Even for a law enforcement vehicle, it was impossible and extremely risky to try to leave the locality. Entering it, for the units that were outside, was just as risky.
The alternative for Jenifer and many others in uniform was to meet at the Bosa Station, the main facility in the area. There they would be momentarily reinstated. She was waiting for her husband, who did not hesitate to undertake an extensive journey of a utopian nature in order to reach the facility. Once there, he would accompany Jenifer until she received the timely medical assistance she urgently required.
The transfer in question led to the corresponding intervention. Jenifer’s protective clothing was removed from her equipment. The wounds were becoming clearer. She was promptly examined by electromagnetic radiation to assess the extent of the fractures. The last thing she had to wait for during this medical procedure was for Jorge Luis Vargas, then director of the National Police, to appear on the scene a few moments later. The mood of the circumstances was such.
Jenifer, in short, from the bodily affections and the attenuated psychological condition she suffered, was almost incapable of showing any considerable reaction. However, she did not falter in the attempt. “I was interviewed. There were many officers around me. My General Vargas was telling me they were going to investigate what had happened,” she reveals. It was thought that, through cameras located in the vicinity of the CAI of Metrovivienda, it would be possible to observe in detail the moment in which Jenifer was pushed to the ground during the riots and, later, hit forcefully with her own tonfa. The hierarchs present there were made aware of it.
“Take this coin, because you are a heroine,” Vargas told Jenifer as he placed the object in her hand as a symbolic judgment of meritocratic retribution. She, still not forgetting the woman who saved her minutes before and her enigmatic identity, asked the director for another coin. He nodded: “Find out who it is, and give it to her. Tell her it’s from me,” he replied.
Jenifer’s general recovery naturally went along with the intensive care of the first few days after that Tuesday. She was assisted by the nanny who was caring for her daughter. Her husband did the same. “I was immobilized, they had to help me bathe, comb my hair and brush my hair. It was very painful. I lasted a while like that until my muscles began to regain their strength,” she continues. It was during the same stage that she began to experience complications in her sleep cycle, the episodes were accompanied by nightmares of frequent permanence. The psychologist in charge of following her process noticed what was happening, so she informed Jenifer about the need to visit the psychiatric specialty.
Initially, she replied in the negative. She intended to return to work promptly. She did so for a couple of days. The contingency that was growing in every corner of the country continued. There was no incentive for her to be depleted, and Jenifer was aware of this. However, her state of health was the reason for an express order issued by the Directorate of Health with the purpose of assisting her and getting her to go to the professional inspection whose competence was required of her. She ended up accepting it.
That first referral dictated a preventive stay of twenty days in the facilities of the Clínica La Inmaculada, located in the eastern neighborhood of Nueva Granada. Jenifer was quickly medicated because of her condition, and after several days, her doses were gradually reduced as she was discharged. However, she was still wary of the need to take the prescribed medications. Her individual perception made her doubt the suitability of the latter. The problem alternated between personal and specialized care. In Jenifer’s words, it was a “vicious circle” that eventually led to recurrent hospitalizations over the next two years. The decisive diagnosis pointed to the development of a mixed depressive-anxiety disorder, as well as post-traumatic stress symptoms.
“I was transferred several times. I was already an inconvenience for the police. I began to have a lot of problems with the psychiatrists, I fought with them. There were very few professionals with whom I was able to establish that connection… That empathy. It was too hard at the time,” Jenifer reflects. Both she and her family had to contemplate the impact of that daily routine on her daughter’s well-being. Since then, the child has been in the care of her guardian. These were stages of such difficulty and magnitude that, only once they were overcome, did they allow the magnitude of what they really meant to be assimilated. They were further compounded by the fact that, just the previous December, Jenifer had lost her father and, even more recently, a valued friend she considered part of her lineage. Still, she continued.
In addition to her already difficult clinical evolution, she was forced to undertake a legal process. She was dismissed because, according to the institutional opinion, she did not have the strength required to perform her usual duties. However, and as it is hardly evident, it was not a fortuitous event for which she was responsible. This is the reason why he went into the search for professional support to accompany his launching. He hired the services of three lawyers, the last of whom managed to take the case to the Military and Police Medical Labor Review Tribunal. The judgment ruled in her favor. Jenifer’s right to work as an officer in the manner to which she was accustomed, with certain restrictions due to the pharmacological effects of the prescribed potions, was ordered to be guaranteed.
The resolution was not immediate, of course. It was disclosed in August 2023. Jenifer was able to return to work the following year. One of the most reassuring adjustments was the authorization she received to wear a blue uniform. The knowledge of the catastrophic event led her to become estranged from the institution’s traditional green garment. Typical of post-traumatic stress. There was great specificity. She involuntarily related the attire to the damage of the experience, which triggered the alteration of her emotional state. The chromatic exchange was no less than ideal.
Thanks to the following verdict of the medical board, Jenifer was also directed to a personalized treatment offered by the Directorate of Veterans and Inclusive Rehabilitation (DIVRI). Since then, she has been able to complete her course by achieving valuable goals that have meant for her the rebirth of her life. Genesis in her concept. She wrote, produced and directed the short film Manos de Ángel, a film product compiling her story. With the piece, Jenifer participated in the first edition of the International Festival of Inclusive Cinema, held in the city of Manizales. She reached the semifinal stage.
It was there that she joined Héroes por Vocación, Dios y Patria, an interdependent assistance program for military and police officers with disabilities. Jenifer’s great merit in joining the project was not only to contribute the knowledge resulting from her experience, but also to redefine the role she now takes on. In essence, to transform herself. “I realized that I had to change the discourse. I had to stop being just the victim. To accept reality and be that brave woman, capable of speaking out and telling my story with my head held high. It is a kind of self-improvement for which I began to characterize myself. Every day gave me the opportunity to improve myself by having healthy conversations and finding help in the wonderful people that life put in my way”, she assures.
As a means of family sustenance, Jenifer and her daughter are now moving forward with a venture of the same name as their short film. The reference to the celestial line is precise. They both design religious art using various techniques and accessories. They have over five hundred pieces to date, many of which they have given to loved ones. Of course, they would never forget to make a similar shipment with the General Vargas coin, which was destined to end up in the possession of the miraculous woman who had saved Jenifer’s life. “It took me several days to find out who she was. It was a deputy superintendent in support of the planning office. I finally got through to her and got the item to her. I asked her why she had taken such a risk to sacrifice herself to help me in that place,” says Jenifer. Such bravery is hard to take in.
It turns out just as he expressed it. It can be said louder, but not more clearly. The little more than three years that have passed since that Tuesday, May 4, 2021 have meant for Jenifer a constant resurgence of monumental proportions that she could not have calculated with equal accuracy before. It is not a linear progress. In the field of mental disorders, such an improvement rarely occurs. Instead, they usually occur as in her case: going back one step and advancing two.
With nearly four decades under her belt, no one would be wrong to say that Jenifer is winning the battle. A withering crusade for her future and that of her family. Nor would the woman who came to her aid on that distant night be mistaken.
“To the question about the reason for his set he answered clearly: In my unit we have a motto: We all go out and we all come in.” He certainly lived up to it
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