Melanie is sitting on the sofa. Her legs are crossed. She’s holding her hands together. She expresses herself in fluent Italian. She studied it in Paris, where she went to university. “I was always holding onto the hope of re-embracing my mother one day, but now I feel there is also something else more important to do. It’s a delicate time.” The young daughter of Ingrid has clear ideas, and her analysis is not outside politics, her declarations don’t save anyone. “President Alvaro Uribe, controls everything, and sometimes pretends to open-up humanitarian agreements. He knows that public opinion in Colombia is strongly convinced that there is a need for these accords. And it’s for this that he says that he agrees with them. But he’s lying. In reality he does nothing for those that have been kidnapped. All of those that have looked for mediation between the parties haven’t achieved even a drop in the ocean, because the government has always pretended to have agreements, and then behaves nervously and throws everything up in the air, filling everything with improbable excuses. Even blabbing to the mass media about sensitive news and failing negotiations or is obstinate about giving absurd logistical details. Talking and talking about the preliminaries; endlessly discussing minor details that now are the norm in these pseudo-negotiations. They don’t realise that while they are chatting, thousands of people’s lives are hanging on a thread. The government and the rebels in their endless discussions seem to have all the time in the world. But my mother doesn’t. And the three thousand that have been kidnapped don’t.”

 

Waiting for a miracle. In facing this argument Melanie’s expression is severe. With every point that she makes she moves her right hand pointedly almost as if to fix and focus the concept. “The Presidential election is close. And it’s because of this concrete international pressure is important. It would give a decisive push. Next year there are the elections and often politicians are forced to do things that are populist to get votes. Now more than ever we need solidarity from everyone. It’s our only hope. There is already strong international pressure from France and other European countries, but now we need all the states, that recognise the war in Colombia and that believe that it can’t be ignored anymore, to unite and make their voices heard. It can’t carry on like this. Colombia can’t go on like this.”

 

The last card. And it’s for this reason that Melanie has chosen to put her cards on the table and go around Europe to tell her story, to talk about her mother and her country. “We don’t have any other choice. What can a family do? Uribe’s government doesn’t want an agreement and FARC doesn’t realise that if they liberate the hostages then it would be seen as such a great humanitarian gesture that every doubt about them would disappear. Finally the world would give up categorising them as terrorists and would see them as fighters, fighting a war. But they have been in the jungle for forty years and I am convinced that they don’t understand a lot of things. It’s as if they are outside of this world. And what can we do in the middle of these two sides? Use this time well, talk and sensitise the people. If it works well I think that we will be able to embrace my mother and all the others. We don’t have another card to play.”

 

Without support. The Betancourt family is alone against everyone in Colombia. There is no support from the ruling class, for whom this young woman has cutting words, spoken calmly and coldly. “When they kidnapped her, the traditional political class was happy. My mother was difficult for them because she dug around the corrupt and the corrupters. And they had said unthinkable things about her. They said all kinds of things. Terrible things. Then, afterwards she was on video and she appeared so strong, so determined and altruistic, and they silenced her. She never spoke about herself only Colombia and in its future which meant they had to change the way they behaved. And the Colombian people have never abandoned her, they are worried about her, and will pray for her until she is freed.”

 

Who can you rely on. “The upper class is blind. Yet they are well off, they are fortunate because they are educated, and with this they have the means of having a global vision of the world, and they could do something to help Colombia to bring an end to this war. Poor Colombians have other things to worry about that are urgent that are pressing. Even if they are in the rich areas were they don’t fight the war is there, a few steps away. How can they ignore it? The international community can open the eyes of these Colombians that don’t know what to do. You can’t expect anything from the government.”

 

The war. “When I am able to detach myself a little bit from this whirlwind that engulfs me, I ask myself how I can face up to what is happening, the deaths, the displaced, how can one carry on living peacefully as if nothing is happening without doing nothing. Why isn’t Colombia talked about? Why has the world forgotten her? Colombia is at war. A war that has its roots in deep social injustice, violence, and in terrible corruption. And it’s corruption that my mother was concerned with. This is the key to everything. It’s from this that everything comes.” Now she is restless and angry. “The displaced are a tragic problem,” says Melanie, “and the government is doing nothing for them either. They are there in absolute poverty. These people live in terror, pushed from all the sides fighting. If FARC asks them only for a hot meal or some food, straight after the militia arrive accusing them of sympathising with them and kill them all. They are not free. They are like those that have been kidnapped. The entire Colombian people is like this.”

 

Outside of forgetfulness. “I know that we aren’t fighting for anything. I know that what we are doing helps my mother and all those kidnapped. And it helps all of Colombia to get away from this forgetfulness that condemns it into staying a bloody and oppressive country.”