Today, exactly 2 years, 7 months and 5 days ago, the double crime of the two young Argentine travelers Marina Menegazzo and María José Coni was committed.
A murder that keeps filling me with rage, impotence and sadness because two heartless decided to turn off forever their radiant smile to these innocent angels.
Two human waste that after offering them shelter in their house, drugging them and trying to sexually abuse them, in the face of their refusal, they decided to break the skull and the femur with blows of stick to one of them and stab in the nape of the neck (cutting their spinal cord ) and let him bleed to the other.
A backpacking trip that took place in one of its sections through Ecuador, hitch-hiking, without planning, letting theirselves be carried away by dreams to fulfill, full of anecdotes, experiences to share, experiences to tell, hopes to pursue, mutual trust and a noble deposit of faith in the people.
And two dark shadows engulfed and extinguished forever their warm and bright lights.
Wrapping them in dark seal pack and putting them in black garbage bags to later throw their bodies on one of the Ruta del Sol beaches, very visited by foreign tourists.
Their bodies were found almost 1 week after the killings and the state of decomposition was such that the medical examiner said he could not determine the sex of the corpses.
Do you know what is one of the saddest things? That both the opinion of the society of the country and the government itself, made it clear through statements in social networks and various public media, which was postulated in favor of all this had been their fault, for trusting people, for going alone, for dressing provocatively (according to them), for giving rise to thinking of the murderers who could have sex that night, etc....
How, I think, can be someone so brainless and insensitive to sentence like that a crime of this magnitude, and not only not try to alleviate the pain of the parents of these girls but also delve into it, drilling even deeper into that pit of pain that will never be dry.
And not only that, since in addition, these statements, said mentality, continue to try to subjugate the female gender, encouraging machismo in society and promoting that you can think that even said murderers are not as guilty as in reality they are, terrible and inexcusable facts that they committed.
I share with you a fragment of the letter whose title also gives title to this publication and which the original author Guadalupe Acosta wrote, both to remember them and to raise their voices against machismo, gender violence and injustices at this level.
They killed me yesterday.
I refused to be touched and with a stick they burst my skull. They slashed me and let me die bled.
Like a waste they put me in a black polyethylene bag, rolled up with packing tape and I was thrown to a beach, where hours later they found me.
But worse than death, it was the humiliation that came after.
From the moment they had my body inert, nobody asked where was the son of a bitch that ended my dreams, my hopes, my life.
No, they started asking me useless questions. To me; can you imagine? A dead woman, who can not speak, who can not defend herself.
What clothes did you wear?
Why were you alone?
How a woman can travel without company?
You got into a dangerous neighborhood, what did you expect?
They questioned my parents, for giving me wings, for letting me be independent, like any human being. They were told that we were high and we were looking for it, that we did something, that they should have kept an eye on us.
And only dead I understood that no, that for the world I am not equal to a man. That dying was my fault; that it will always be. Whereas if the headline said that those who were killed were two young travelers, people would be commenting on their condolences while with their false and hypocritical double moral discourse they would ask for greater punishment for the murderers.
But being a woman, it is minimized. It becomes less serious, because of course, I looked for it. Doing what I wanted, I found my due for not being submissive, for not wanting to stay at home, for investing my own money in my dreams. For that and much more, they condemned me.
And I was sorry, because I'm not here anymore. But you are. And you are a woman and you have to keep hearing the same discourse of "make you respect", that it is your fault that they shout you want to touch/lick/suck some of your genitals in the street by wearing a short with 40 degrees, that if you travel alone you are a "crazy person" and very surely if something happened to you, if they trampled on your rights, you asked for it.
I ask you that for me and for all the women to whom they silenced us, they screwed up our lives and dreams, raise your voice. We are going to fight, I am by your side, in spirit, and I promise you that one day we will be so many, that there will not be enough black bags to silence us all.
It is for all this, for this injustice and for keeping your memory alive that I write this in your name Marina and María José.
Because some of us do not forget neither of you nor of the terrible acts committed.
In your memory, Marina and María José, and because wherever you are, no one will remove your radiant smile again.
Rest In Peace.