I saw and heard him innumerable times become indignant in the face of injustice and fight against it, dedicate countless hours defending the dispossessed and spend his life trying to find a way to denounce what was going on in the country. I was always there: ecstatically seeing him live his life intensely. We were at war.

In 1981 he was assassinated. I was 10 years old. Terror took hold of my family. The questions of a girl who wanted to know what happened were met with interminable silence.

At 13 I decided that there had been enough unanswered questions. For months I searched for news of those times. I found them in my father’s writings, which he had left with an old friend of his.

I said to myself, “I’m going to tell your story, Guillermo Monzon. You will continue to live through me.” His example thrust me into the profession about which I feel passionate and which allows me to have my voice be heard.

Years later I got to know the mountain areas; the life of the indigenous peoples; their needs; the way they are marginalized and I decided to tell their stories.

Today I have two children: a girl and a boy. In them I see every day the clearest reason for why Guatemala must change.

Stephanie and Jan have been my companions and have suffered harassment and persecution with me. Of course we have felt fear, have had doubts and have been hurt. On more than one occasion we have had to leave the country for safety reasons.

One afternoon, after armed men broke into my house, Jan, who was then nine, asked me: “Is this what they do to people who work for peace?” I was speechless. He took my hand and said: “It doesn’t matter, I believe in you.”

In the seven years I have been a journalist I have been threatened, harassed, and intimidated. I have been followed and they were able to close down my two radio programs. The destruction of my car with machine gun fire confirmed that they had never left. That the dinosaurs continue to exist.

The structures of repression are present in Guatemala, but so is the courage and determination of the victims and their families. The courage of the survivors of torture and massacre. The voices of the dead and the disappeared are present shouting with us as one: never again, Guatemala.

And I am here to say to those who want to silence us, hide our history and bury us in terror that we are not afraid. Because of your courage, Guillermo Monzon, and the courage of other Guatemalans who never stopped fighting, I’m here today.

Thank you so much.