“Yesterday They Killed Me”, Letter In Memory Of Argentine Travelers Murdered In Ecuador

A few months ago,  social networks around the world and especially in South America were focused on finding two young Argentine travelers who had disappeared while they were carrying out a well-planned backpack in a beautiful country, Ecuador.

Marina Menegazzo and María José Coni had been brutally murdered by two demons. Their family and friends wondered why they stayed in a precarious home on the Ecuadorian coast on the night of February 22nd.

Alberto Mina Ponce and Aurelio Eduardo Rodríguez train its executors. They didn’t want to let themselves be touched, they didn’t want to submit and they ended their lives. They didn’t respect their decision, they didn’t respect their integrity, they didn’t respect their lives. Now, the whole world oozes hatred for them, a hatred that will stalk these two murderers for the rest of their lives.

However, as we said, unfortunately social networks began to ask themselves inexplicable questions such as: what were they doing traveling alone? How were they dressed? Why did you go to this house with these two men? What did you expect?

We answer: alone? Who else should they travel with? What does it matter how they were dressed? Are they to blame for your murder? Why do people ask that at these times? The proper question is what are they going to do with these two killers and how are we going to get rid of the virus that plagues this very sick society.

The emotional and sad letter that was written by them

The author of this open letter is Guadalupe Acosta, who with her invites the whole world to put themselves in these women’s shoes and to raise their voice against machismo, gender violence and the injustice of questions about these murders.

Yesterday they killed me.

I refused to be touched and with a stick they blew my skull. They stuck a knife in me and let me bleed to death.

As garbage they stuffed me into a black polyethylene bag, tied with wrapping tape, and I was thrown onto a beach, where hours later they found me.

But worse than death was the humiliation that followed.

Since the moment they had my body inert, no one had asked where was the son of a bitch who ended my dreams, my hopes, my life.

No, actually they started asking me useless questions. To me, imagine? A dead woman who cannot speak, who cannot defend herself.

What clothes did you wear?

Why was she walking alone?

How is a woman going to travel without a companion?

You have entered 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 certainly drugged and we were looking for this trouble, that we did something, that they should have controlled us more.

And only dead did I understand that no, that for the world I’m not like a man. That dying was my fault, that it always will be. If the incumbent said that those who had been killed were two young travelers, the people would be commenting on their condolences, while with their false and hypocritical speech of double morals they would ask for a greater penalty for the murderers.

But being a woman, everything is minimized. It becomes less serious, because of course, I looked for this trap. Doing what I wanted I found what I deserved for not being submissive, for not wanting to stay at home, for investing my own money in my dreams. For this and much more, they condemned me.

And I’m grieved because I’m no longer here. But you are. And it’s a woman. And you have to endure that they keep rubbing the same speech of “making yourself respected”, that it’s your fault that they scream at you, that they want to touch/lick/suck some of your genitals on the street for walking in shorts with 40 degrees heat , that if you travel alone you are a “crazy” and if something has happened to you, if your rights were trampled on, you have looked for it.

I ask you that for me and for all the women who were silenced, silenced, had their lives and dreams destroyed, you raise your voice. Let’s fight, me by your side, in spirit, and I promise you that one day we will be so many that there won’t be enough bags to shut us all up.