In Colombia, landmines are still part of everyday life. They lie hidden along footpaths, farms, riverbanks, and forest trails—silent reminders of a war that never fully ended. These devices mark territories shaped by narcotrafficking, guerrilla fronts, paramilitary control, criminal gangs, and the growing pressure of illegal mining driven by the search for gold and other minerals.

 

The conflict here is not only about drugs. After more than fifty years of a so-called war on drugs that has failed, new forms of extractivism continue to fuel violence and displacement. Illegal mining poisons rivers and fragments communities, while legal oil operations leave environmental scars that will last for generations. Landmines remain behind to protect routes, resources, and profit—long after armed groups move on.

 

All of this unfolds in one of the most biodiverse countries in the world. Places of extraordinary beauty coexist with fear and uncertainty. Walking, farming, fishing, or simply crossing a field can become an act of risk. This photo essay looks at how landmines shape daily life, memory, and movement, revealing a conflict that survives quietly—underfoot, in the land, and in the lives of those who remain.

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​​Por la memoria del camino, la fuerza del presente y lo que continúa.