Colombia can pride itself on having an unprecedented editorial boom: that of books by kidnapping victims who, either by escape or rescue, have regained their freedom. Already this year, three such books of remarkable tales on the experience of being kidnapped have been published: “Mi fuga hacia la libertad,” (“My Escape to Freedom”) from the police officer John Frank Pinchao; “Siete años secuestrado por las Farc,” (“Seven Years Kidnapped by the FARC”) by the former congressman Luis Eladio Pérez; and “El trapecista,” (“The Trapeze Artist”) by the former minister of foreign affairs, Fernando Araújo.
But two new books, about this same saga, have an additional ingredient: that of the difficulties faced when the former hostage returns home, but the love for one’s partner has been left buried in the jungle. That is what happened to former congressman Jorge Eduardo Géchem. After 24 years of being married to his wife Lucy, six of them while kidnapped, he decided to leave his wife when he returned home.
That is not uncommon. The drama of kidnapping leaves profound scars on relationships, like what happened to Fernando Araújo and his wife Mónica Yamuhre (she left years before he escaped from the Farc, because she feared she would never see him again).
But in the case of the Géchems, what could have been resolved quietly within the family, now, because of the reception this type of story receives in the marketplace, it has jumped to the bookstores.
Lucy titled her book “Amores que el secuestro mata,” (“Loves that Kidnapping Kills”) and in it she retells the details of the 70 days that she lived with her husband after he gained freedom on February 28th. “On May 10th, Mother’s Day, I received the worst possible gift. Jorge Eduardo had left home without any explanation. He abandoned us,” writes Lucy.
The tone of a wounded heart of a woman who for six years suffered that other side of kidnapping, that of the waiting, continues on practically in all of its pages. She makes that clear from the book’s beginning as she cites an epigraph of Victor Frankl, the Austrian psychiatrist who became famous with his book in which he told of his experience in Nazi concentration camps: “Woe to him, when the day of his dreams finally came, found it to be so different from all that he had longed for!"
At times Lucy Artunduaga’s book follows a narrative thread between that difficult tragedy of waiting for six years, told as if she were sitting in your living room, and a certain dose of romantic complaints and intimate details worthy of a song by the Argentinean duo Pimpinela. “One of the big complaints Jorge Eduardo makes now, as he enjoys his freedom once again, is that of poor economic management, the term he used was ‘wide sleeves.’ Nevertheless, what I did was maintain what we had (almost everything), pay some big debts that he left and live. How does he expect that I should live, with my two sons, when I didn’t have any work and his salary stopped coming?”
Lucy not only tells in detail how dozens of unscrupulous people who promised her news of her kidnapped husband and stole 30 million pesos ($13,000 USD), but also presents intimate accounts of her financial situation. “When the kidnapping occurred, in 2002, our debts were increasing to 869 million pesos (about $375,000 USD), and when he returned in 2008, the amount was 150 million pesos (about $65,000 USD), with the exception of some commitments that we still have with the DIAN (tax authority).”
“All I have to say to you is that I would have preferred a thousand times over not having assets to account for, nor to have received money in your absence to save our modest estate that with a lot of effort we were able to build and find what I always longed for: happiness,” she notes in a letter dated last October 15th that is published in the book.
Although Géchem’s book, “¡Desviaron el vuelo!” (“The Flight has been Diverted!”) concentrates on the tale of his kidnapping, he nonetheless devotes a very few lines to the topic, which could be understood as a response: “I don’t have commitments with anyone. I will not gamble my heart- paraphrasing ‘La Vorágine,’ (“The Whirlpool” by Jose Eustasio Rivera) – but will be open to happiness, if I find a sincere love.”
The back and forth between the two goes further than the books’ content. Last Friday, while Jorge Eduardo’s book was launched at the Casa de Nariño, Lucy’s was ready to be published in the coming days. While the prologue of Jorge Eduardo’s book is written by President Álvaro Uribe, Lucy has asked the First Lady to write hers.
In any case, beyond the episodes of falling out of love and of pain, the two new books add to the story of what has been a painful chapter of kidnapping in Colombia.
In his book, Géchem reveals details of his scramble through the Algeciras mountains in the middle of crossfire, his frustrated escape attempt with a FARC chief who asked him for “a piece of land in Boyacá (department) or in the Llanos (eastern plains),” of passing through the Guacamayas town in the Caguán demilitarized zone, where his parents married and where he had visited when he was seven years old, and the unforgettable day when the hostages were each given a sack of oranges. He also makes reflections on how both the FARC and the country are perceived from the jungle.
This, without doubt, has been the year of freedom in Colombia. The rescues, escapes and liberations have alleviated in good part the conflict that the country is experiencing. These two books, beyond the personal details, are a testimony of that story.