viernes, 19 de enero de 2018

Honduras: Vicky, the Transsexual Who Died 280 Times




This is the first in a series of six chronicles on violence against LGBTI people in Honduras



In Honduras, death risk for LGBTI persons is one of the highest in the world

When an LGBTI person is murdered, his or her murder might never be solved because of the country’s high impunity rates


78% of LGBTI cases in Honduras go unpunished. Only 22% are judicialized and few of the offenders are convicted



Vicky Hernández Castillo, birth name Johnny Hernández (1983-2009).

Her murder was horrible and irrational, committed with unspeakable hate.
It was the night of June 28, 2009, the date of the coup that ousted President Manuel Zelaya, and Vicky Hernández Castillo -birth name Johnny Emilson Hernández- went out to the streets to work in the sex trade, unaware of the curfew imposed by Roberto Micheletti’s de facto government.
Vicky, 26 years old, born in San Pedro Sula, had enemies who lurked in the shadows. The life of sex workers is one of constant danger, but it gets riskier when they are transsexuals.
Her murder was the first in a string of 279 violent deaths from 2009 until December 2017, according to the Observatory of Violent Deaths of LGBTI People of the Cattrachas Lesbian Association.
In eight years, only 60 cases were judicialized and less than half of the offenders in those cases were convicted. Every other offender went unpunished.
From 2008 to date, 41 cases were judicialized and 22 offenders were convicted, the Office of the Public Prosecutor stated.
According to public documents, the Judiciary said that 24 people were sentenced, and six were acquitted.
We will never know how many times Vicky managed to escape death: her life was perhaps a Russian roulette. But on June 28 she ran out of luck. The next day, she was found dead between the Santa Anita and Concepción neighborhoods, one block away from the old building of the San Pedro Sula Gay Community for Integral Health.
Vicky’s murder is important for several reasons: it happened in a stormy political environment, she was transsexual, her murder was vicious, it was an extrajudicial execution and it remains unpunished.
Prejudices in her case border on insanity. Forensic authorities refused to perform the autopsy on Vicky "saying she was HIV-positive," and "they did not want to investigate on the grounds that the victim was a 'different' person who had no rights, which is an instance of discrimination on the grounds of her sexual preference," according to a petition filed on December 23, 2012, by Honduran and foreign organizations, including Cattrachas and Robert F. Kennedy Human Rights.
Honduran authorities argued that they in fact had done the autopsy on Vicky, but never found the official records of the forensic procedure. It is indeed known that she died of several gunshot wounds.
Vicky’s unsolved crime is one among thousands of instances of impunity gnawing like a cancer at the Honduran investigative and judicial system, damaging the way justice is applied in LGBTI cases. "You’ve no idea what impunity really is. There’s impunity not just because nobody investigates; and, when there’s in fact an investigation, they do it with prejudice, homophobia or lesbophobia," says Indyra Mendoza, Cattrachas’ coordinator. Meanwhile, Honduran justice has not captured and much less prosecuted Vicky’s murderers. The Honduran State "is responsible for the unwarranted delay in the investigation of Vicky’s murder," says the petition submitted to the IACHR in 2012, which further claims that there is "discrimination in the access to justice" due to the victim’s gender identity.



Understanding Impunity


Most LBGTI murders in Honduras go unpunished because
LGBTI people are not a priority for the State. 

In order to better understand Vicky’s case, we must delve into the meaning of the word "impunity".
Impunity and corruption are phenomena that are directly related, to the extent that many believe that they are a single phenomenon, says Honduran renowned researcher Leticia Salomón.
There is so much impunity that citizens no longer report crimes because they are sure that nobody will ever solve them, adds Solomon, which stresses the magnitude of criminal activity and the institutional weakness of policemen, prosecutors and judges to capture those involved and apply sanctions.
Although an LGBTI person can be a victim of common criminals, many human rights violations might pass off as common criminal acts.
"Impunity’s magnified in LGBTI murders because LGBTI persons are not a priority for the State, the Government and the institutions, because their families have no political and economic power and because there’s no greater social demand for justice in these cases," says Luis Velásquez, sociologist of the Regional University Center of the Atlantic Coast.
Like many LGBTI victims, Vicky’s origins were humble: she came from the most deprived neighborhoods in San Pedro Sula, and worked to support her family, especially her niece. She lived with her mother and sister, and worked tirelessly. Her wake took place at the Colectivo Color Rosa Organization.
A very important factor to help understand the differences between common crime and LGBTI crime, as in Vicky’s case, is, according to sociologist Luis Velásquez, "that LGBTI people are categorized as 'worthless', so there is no widespread demand, and that cases of people murdered in hate crimes are unsolved".
Velásquez’s analysis brings to the table two visions of LGBTI crimes: first, most of the victims are low-income; second, they suffer from prejudice and constant rejection because of their gender identity, in the case of transgender people, and because of their sexual orientation, in the case of gays, lesbians and bisexuals.
Poverty and sexual preferences outside social norms are key factors to explain why, over the past eight years, the number of violent LGBTI deaths has soared to unthinkable heights.
Honduran society is patriarchal, a condition that fuels the contempt that certain social groups feel towards LGBTI people. In a patriarchal environment, repudiation of these groups creates an ideal breeding ground that multiplies crimes against LGBTI population.



Politics and Crime
In the past eight years, violence against LGBTI people seems to have become more classist and, consequently, more political. Almost all the victims belonging to these groups are poor and therefore do not receive the treatment accorded to Honduran upper classes. They do not have money, so it is easier to kill them with the assurance that no one will punish the perpetrators.
Social groups collided in 2009, explains Erick Martínez, who works for the Center for Human Rights Research and Promotion (Centro de Investigación y Promoción de los Derechos Humanos-CIPRODEH), referring to the increasing political participation of the LGBTI groups due to state violence and criminal activity. "Because of the coup, people knew of the protests conducted by the LGBTI community. This caused visibility".
During the michelettista regime, people became aware of LGBTI groups. "Organized crime, gangs, and other powerful groups found gaps in the system and began to commit selective murders because the community was empowered and gained more visibility," says Martínez. The visibility increased the danger and the impunity.
"A murderer in the Honduran system has a 96% chance to run free," says Ramón Barrios, lawyer and university professor, who delves into the causes of the high impunity rates in Honduras: "It’s big business to be a hitman in Honduras; 96% chance and, in the case of the community, 98% chance. Why? Generally speaking, because of deficient investigation. Crime has taken the place of investigative skill. There’s also a bias. Investigative bodies and the State refer to the LGBTI community as people who ‘get killed because they deserve it, based on what they do’. There’s also a religious prejudice when saying 'they deserve it' because they don’t stick to God’s mandates".
Barrios’ ideas coincide with those of sociologist Luis Velásquez: rejection of sexual preferences outside the norm is one of the main causes of LGBTI crimes.
Rejection turns into hatred. People say we tend to reject what we do not understand. This is one of the roots of prejudice, in particular of the dangerous prejudices against the LGBTI community. A sentence of researcher Javier Acevedo summarizes this attitude: "They´re being classified as undesirable people. As third-class citizens".



Killing for Hate


There is still no justice in the murder of transsexual Vicky Hernández.


While Vicky’s family is still demanding justice, one of her nieces, who is a transsexual and commercial sex worker, says she barely remembers her aunt and, even though she knows the circumstances in which Vicky died, she is afraid but she keeps going on in spite of her fear. "Sometimes, customers don’t want to pay what we’re worth," she complains.
One of the allegations of organized LGBTI groups in Honduras is that the Church’s hate speeches promote rejection of gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgender people.
"The Evangelical Fellowship in Honduras has been charged with inciting hatred, discrimination and rejection against us," says Rihanna Ferrera, transsexual activist and executive director of the Cozumel Trans Association.
Other institutions have joined in the repudiation and indifference. Ferrera believes that, according to the Judiciary and the National Congress, the country does not care for the crimes against the community. "There is no political will. Impunity and corruption are linked. When an LGBTI person is murdered, the crime’s not investigated, and, when it’s investigated, it’s the victim who’s under suspicion, not the murderer".
In the past eight years, approximately 250 LGBTI people have fled to other countries because of insecurity, says Ferrera.
"We live in a patriarchal state toward transsexual women and lesbians. In most cases, transsexual women are killed with firearms, which makes the research more difficult, while gay people are stabbed to death. It is easier to identify the murderer of the gay person because they don't get killed on the streets, but in hotels, at home, and so on, while transsexuals are killed on the streets and at times when working at the sex trade".
Rihanna is a witness to the disastrous results of the unjustified grudge against their community. In 2010, Deborah Kurkova, a transgender sex worker, was killed in a gas station close to the Hotel Honduras Maya, in Tegucigalpa, says Ferrera.
That night, Deborah approached a group of drunkards in a van. The men told her something, she insulted them and, when she walked away, she was shot. "I’m choking," she complained. Her friends asked for help, but the policemen refused to take her to the hospital. "Can´t take you there," they said. "Who knows what kind of diseases you’re carrying."
"Deborah died on the street," says Rihanna. "To date, her crime’s not been solved".
"The murder of trans people goes unpunished because they’re executed on the streets; when lesbians are massacred 2, 3 or 4 at a time, their murders go unpunished as well. We’re massacred and our murders are never related to violence against lesbians; they see us just as any other women," says Indyra Mendoza.
The highest homicide rate among transgender women throughout the hemisphere belongs to Honduras: 9.68 murders per million inhabitants, according to the NGO Transgender Europe.
More than 92% of hate crimes go unpunished because of a discriminatory legal framework, according to the 2012 report of the National Human Rights Commissioner of Honduras.
However, the Church also has a point of view in regard to the violence against LGBTI people. "I don’t think that everything’s linked to hate crimes. Unfortunately, they’ve tried to blame the Church for the things that happen to them, but it’s not necessarily that way," says pastor Alberto Solórzano, a member of the Special Commission in charge of purging the Honduran National Police.
Solórzano does not believe that every crime is a hate crime; he thinks that violence is to be blamed on "their life situations".
He believes that the LGBTI murders are not to be blamed on religious discourse: pastors, he adds, do not tell anyone "to kill a gay person". Solórzano turns around the reasoning of LGBTI groups and points to the Church as a victim. LGBTI groups, according to him, consider the Church "a hindrance, an enemy", and blame if for "all of their suffering and wrongs".



Looking for Solutions
There have been attempts to combat impunity in LGBTI crimes in Honduras. Some of these attempts are promoted from abroad.
In 2010, the Universal Periodic Review made 129 recommendations to the Honduran State, including the establishment of the specialized unit to investigate the violent deaths of LGBTI people and carry out a reform of Article 321 of the Honduran Criminal Code to ensure legal protection against discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity. The reform was revoked in the current amendment to the Code.
In 2011, former President Barack Obama called on the Government of Honduras to "investigate these murders and to hold perpetrators accountable". The US embassy in Honduras worked closely with the Government -under former President Porfirio Lobo- to establish a Special Victims Unit that would investigate and judicialize hate crimes against LGBTI people. US authorities brought a prosecutor and a detective to Honduras to help establish the unit in the Office of the Public Prosecutor.
Obama’s Government brought experts to investigate LGBTI murders. Honduran prosecutors and policemen were trained and the unit worked more or less well in Tegucigalpa.
The Bureau of Access to LGBTI Justice was created, and the High-Impact Crime Unit and the Bureau were taken to San Pedro Sula. Former prosecutor Norma Sobeida Narváez in the northern region of the country did a much better job than what was being done in Tegucigalpa. However, Narváez was separated from the institution in 2014.
Most of the requirements and judicialized cases in Honduras came from San Pedro Sula. "She [Narváez] made the difference; she was fired and that was that. That’s why a lot of cases were judicialized," says Indyra Mendoza.
The main priority of the High-Impact Crime Unit were the murders of LGBTI people and of public officials, prosecutors or judges, says former prosecutor Narváez.
"Agents found it hard to adapt because we live in a male-centered society," says Narváez. "The community was suspicious, but they saw that the agents weren’t bigots, that they were respectful and promoted peace. They were not like other policemen. So people opened up and became accessible."
Narváez and his five agents were trained in El Salvador and in Roswell, United States. Some investigations were not carried out for lack of resources and the embassy supported them with travel allowances and a car.
The unit had difficulties when taking abandoned cases because it was very hard to find evidence. "Before, the crime scene wasn’t taken care of, some items were lost and witnesses were no longer to be found," she adds. In recent cases, according to the former prosecutor, the biggest problem for them was the lack of interest of the prosecutor and the agents.
In Vicky’s case, two of the witnesses to her murder are dead and the State will have to give answers to the IACHR in regard to the case.
Currently in the Office of the Public Prosecutor, several prosecutors can see high-impact cases. In 2017, the general budget of the institution was 1,745,475,158 lempiras. The Special Prosecutor for Crimes against Life is responsible for the Vulnerable Groups Death Unit that addresses LGBTI murders. The budget of the latter in 2017 was 25,502,261 lempiras and has, in the central area, two prosecutors and, in the north-west, the same amount of public servants. Justice operators are assisted by researchers from the Technical Agency for Criminal Research (Agencia Técnica de Investigación Policial-ATIC) and the Investigative Police Bureau (Dirección Policial de Investigaciones-DPI).
The system is criticized because the workload of a prosecutor may be so high that investigations are not carried out nor are cases judicialized. Lack of financial and technical resources is also a problem to be dealt with. In 2017, 33 LGBTI people were murdered in Honduras. The last four deaths occurred in the department of Cortés. In Puerto Cortés, two gay and transgendered people were killed. In San Manuel, another transsexual was murdered by a client. The Bureau of Access to Justice in San Pedro Sula and the Special Unit of the Public Prosecutor judicizlized seven of these 33 cases.
During the last electoral campaign in Honduras, speeches of hatred against lesbian and gay groups intensified. "We recognize the importance of conducting an exhaustive investigation to prevent these crimes to go unpunished," said in a statement the Secretariat of Human Rights, Justice, Interior and Decentralization of Honduras.
One of those cases awaiting solution is Vicky Hernández Castillo’s murder. Over 8 years have passed since she was killed, but some people are not willing to forget her, such as those who filed a petition to the IACHR requiring that the State of Honduras answer for the crime.
Vicky is not alone: 257 LGBTI victims like her are still expecting justice, since only 24 cases have been sentenced, according to the Judiciary. 

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