Mom, if I disappear, where will I go?
I don't know, son.
I only know that if you disappear, I would look for you everywhere on earth and below the earth.
I would knock on every door of every house.
Asking every single person who I find along my way.
I would insist, every single day, at every moment, that I was obligated to look for you until I found you.
And I would want you not to be afraid, because I am looking for you.
And if they didn't listen to me, my son,
My voice would grow stronger and I would shout your name in the streets.
I would break glass and tear down doors to search for you.
I would burn buildings so everyone would know how much I love you and how much I want you back.
I would paint walls with your name and I wouldn't let anyone forget you.
I would look for others who are also searching for their children, so that together we could find you and them.
And my son, I would want you not to be afraid, because we would be looking for you.
If you didn't disappear, my son--oh, I want that you not!--I would shout the names of those who have disappeared.
I would write their names on walls.
I would hug, even from a distance, all of the mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers who are searching for their disappeared.
I would walk arm in arm with them in the streets.
I would not allow their names to be forgotten.
I would want, my son, for none of them to be afraid--because we would be looking for them.
--Marcela Ibarra Mateos (ixca cienfuegos)
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MamĆ”, si desaparezco, ¿adĆ³nde voy?
No lo sƩ, hijo.
Solo sĆ© que si desaparecieras te buscarĆa entre la tierra y debajo de ella.
TocarĆa en cada puerta de cada casa.
PreguntarĆa a todas y a cada una de las personas que encontrara en mi camino.
ExigirĆa, todos y cada uno de los dĆas, a cada instancia obligada a buscarte que lo hiciera hasta encontrarte.
Y querrĆa, hijo, que no tuvieras miedo, porque te estoy buscando.
Y si no me escucharan, hijo;
la voz se me harĆa fuerte y gritarĆa tu nombre por las calles.
RomperĆa vidrios y tirarĆa puertas para buscarte.
IncendiarĆa edificios para que todos supieran cuĆ”nto te quiero y cuĆ”nto quiero que regreses.
PintarĆa muros con tu nombre y no querrĆa que nadie te olvidara.
BuscarĆa a otros y a otras que tambiĆ©n buscan a sus hijos para que juntos te encontrĆ”ramos a ti y a ellos.
Y querrĆa, hijo, que no tuvieras miedo, porque muchos te buscamos.
Si no desaparecieras, hijo, como asĆ deseo y quiero.
GritarĆa los nombres de todos aquellos que sĆ han desaparecido.
EscribirĆa sus nombres en los muros.
AbrazarĆa en la distancia y en la cercanĆa a todos aquellos padres y madres; hermanas y hermanos que buscan a sus desaparecidos.
CaminarĆa del brazo de ellos por las calles.
Y no permitirĆa que sus nombres fueran olvidados.
Y querrĆa, hijo, que todos ellos no tuvieran miedo, porque todos los buscamos.
Marcela Ibarra Mateos (ixca cienfuegos)