Pastor Efrén Antonio Vílchez López is one of hundreds of independent voices the Nicaraguan government is desperate to silence

On 15 May 2022 Protestant Christian Pastor Efrén Antonio Vílchez López was beaten and detained as he was leaving the funeral home where he worked in San Rafael del Sur, a town and municipality 50km south-west of the Nicaraguan capital Managua.  

He was not told on what charges he was being arrested, and his family were kept unaware of his whereabouts for three days. He was held at the San Rafael del Sur National Police Station for over two weeks, and then transferred to the notorious Jorge Navarro National Penitentiary System known as ‘La Modelo’. 

While he was in detention the authorities did not provide Pastor Vílchez López, who is diabetic and hypertensive, with his required daily insulin, which ultimately proved life-threatening and resulted in him being sent to a clinic for urgent medical treatment.  

Continue reading “Pastor Efrén Antonio Vílchez López is one of hundreds of independent voices the Nicaraguan government is desperate to silence”

Where are they? Carmen María Sáenz Martínez and Lesbia del Socorro Gutiérrez Poveda are prisoners of a regime solely interested in its own survival

At 6am on 10 August 2024, fifteen police officers wearing ski masks and carrying AK-47s arrested 49-year-old Carmen María Sáenz Martínez at her home in Lomas de Santo Tomas in Matagalpa City, Nicaragua.

Two hours later police in two patrol cars detained Carmen’s colleague Lesbia del Socorro Gutiérrez Poveda, age 58, at the Guadalupana Farm in Samulali in the San Ramón Municipality.

Both women worked with the Roman Catholic Diocese of Matagalpa, formerly led by the now exiled Bishop Rolando José Álvarez Lagos, who spent nearly a year and a half in prison before he was expelled to the Vatican in January 2024. Lesbia had worked with the diocese’s rural and urban credit project since 2006, and Carmen as a justice promoter in marriage annulment cases since 2018.

Their families have not heard from them since.

Continue reading “Where are they? Carmen María Sáenz Martínez and Lesbia del Socorro Gutiérrez Poveda are prisoners of a regime solely interested in its own survival”

‘We go into the streets with fear’: After the murders of two pastors, Christians in northern Colombia no longer feel safe

Many Christians in the north-central part of Colombia encompassing the neighbouring regions of Magdalena and Cesar are on edge after the targeted assassinations of two church leaders in the space of two weeks. On 29 December, an entire family of four – Pastor Marlon Lora, his wife Yurlay, and adult children Ángela and Santiago – was shot to death following a Sunday morning service at the service at the Missionary Bible Church in the Villa Paraguay neighbourhood of Aguachica, Cesar Department.

On the evening of 8 January, Iván García, a 28-year-old church leader and husband of a pastor, died after being shot six times, after leaving a religious service. In both cases, the killings were carried out by masked hitmen on motorcycles.

Mr García was followed by the hitmen as he was walking home along a dark, rural road with his 14-year-old stepdaughter and six other individuals following a spiritual celebration at the People of God Christian Vision Church, where his wife, Pastor Karen Nierles, had been invited to lead a Bible study. Pastor Nierles leads the New Rebirth in Christ Church in the village of Garital, in the Banana Cultivation Zone, in Magdalena. According to the witnesses, after being shot the young preacher fell to his knees and raised his hands in thanks to God. The hitmen left the scene without speaking.

Continue reading “‘We go into the streets with fear’: After the murders of two pastors, Christians in northern Colombia no longer feel safe”

Why don’t they just come here legally?

They are called illegals, migrants, aliens, refugees, immigrants, asylum seekers, invaders, displaced – each word carrying with it a subtext of who they are, what they want, and where they fit. They have been accused of bringing disease, ‘poisoning the blood’ of a nation, participating in a massive invasion that aims to bring about violent anarchy, and even eating people’s beloved pets. In this discourse each of ‘them’ rarely has a face, a name, and much less their own story (unless they do something terrible that pushes their name and face into the headlines).

The question ‘Why don’t they just come here legally?’ is asked over and over. Again, there is a subtext to that question – an implication that if ‘they’ were good people, they would seek out and follow the rules. The question also assumes that there are legal, and presumably safe, channels for those in genuine distress to request and receive asylum in a safe country, as allowed for under international law, primarily under the UN Refugee Convention. However, the reality is that even those countries that recognise and uphold the Refugee Convention, (and there are many which do not), maintain byzantine systems, set up to make it as difficult as possible for someone, especially an asylum seeker, to petition for and be granted the right to start a new life in a safe country.

The vast majority of those ‘safe’ countries require visas for individuals traveling there from much of the world. The quickest way to ensure that a visa is denied, is to respond truthfully – that the motive for travelling is to request asylum upon arrival – and when a visa is denied on those grounds, the individual is almost always put on a blacklist for future requests.

Continue reading “Why don’t they just come here legally?”

Every Sunday…

Every Sunday, between 12:30pm and 1pm, Berta Soler Fernández prepares herself.  She and her husband, Ángel Moya Acosta step outside their home, a square, two story building painted red, with a light green porch. They have every intention of making their way to a Roman Catholic Church in the Miramar section of Havana, Cuba. The church is named for Saint Rita of Cascia, the patron saint of abuse, loss, peace, desperate cases and lost causes. They will attend Mass and offer up prayers.  

Berta is dressed all in white. 

Every Sunday, between 12:30pm and 1pm, Berta and Ángel open the door of their home and are met by National Revolutionary Police (NRP) officers and Department of State Security (DSS) agents. Mobs of paramilitary members, some holding signs with offensive and insulting messages, hold up mobile phones as they record the couple’s movements. The two are forced into DSS cars with private license plates and, instead of going to Mass, they are taken to an NRP station. They are ordered to undergo an intrusive medical examination. They refuse because they have not asked for an examination and know that they will not be provided with the results anyway. Those will go to the DSS. Berta and Ángel are then sent to semi-dark prison cells where they will be held until the following morning. They will be taken by car and dropped off near their home, which also serves as the national headquarters for the Ladies in White, a dissident group that has been holding peaceful protests in support of political prisoners since 2003. 

Continue reading “Every Sunday…”