As the spotlight shines on Mexico, set to host four World Cup matches next year, a city beset by construction chaos grapples with an even greater crisis: a staggering number of disappearances. Guadalajara, once a beacon of vibrant culture and life, is now a capital scarred by the country's highest number of missing persons – over 16,000 in Jalisco alone.
Behind each face plastered on posters across town, countless families are left to mourn their loved ones, never knowing what happened to them. Elda Adriana Valdez Montoya, 32, last seen in August 2020; Jordy Alejandro Cardenas Flores, 19, taken by agents from the state prosecutor's office in May 2022; Cristofer Aaron Leobardo Ramirez Camarena, 16, vanished in April 2024 – their stories are just a few among many of those etched on the city's crumbling infrastructure.
Critics say Mexico's astronomical disappearance rates can't be attributed solely to violent cartels. Rather, they point fingers at the government itself, which has been complicit in perpetuating impunity and safeguarding an environment where such crimes thrive. The 'war on drugs', launched in 2006, not only failed to resolve the issue but also set the stage for over 460,000 homicides.
The scale of the problem is staggering, with mass clandestine graves and bags containing human remains being unearthed in recent years near Guadalajara's football stadium. But with the World Cup fast approaching, local officials are determined to sanitise the city's image – including removing portraits and signs from the 'roundabout of the disappeared', thus erasing the very memories that fuel resistance.
"We've seen absolutely nothing change," Maribel Cedeno, a representative of Guerreros Buscadores de Jalisco, an organisation searching for missing persons in Jalisco, said. "The government's response to our case is non-existent." She demanded: "Where is our security? Where are we supposed to find justice?"
As the driver from eastern Jalisco put it, the massive influx of World Cup money into Mexico only serves as a stark contrast to the lives lost and families torn apart by the state's inaction. While authorities focus on providing security for foreign spectators, Cedeno's community remains searching for answers – their voices drowned out by the roar of football fans.
For now, Guadalajara's image is being painted with a veneer of cleanliness as construction workers tirelessly build stadiums and infrastructure. Yet beneath this façade lies a city grappling with an existential crisis – one that refuses to be silenced or disappeared altogether.
Behind each face plastered on posters across town, countless families are left to mourn their loved ones, never knowing what happened to them. Elda Adriana Valdez Montoya, 32, last seen in August 2020; Jordy Alejandro Cardenas Flores, 19, taken by agents from the state prosecutor's office in May 2022; Cristofer Aaron Leobardo Ramirez Camarena, 16, vanished in April 2024 – their stories are just a few among many of those etched on the city's crumbling infrastructure.
Critics say Mexico's astronomical disappearance rates can't be attributed solely to violent cartels. Rather, they point fingers at the government itself, which has been complicit in perpetuating impunity and safeguarding an environment where such crimes thrive. The 'war on drugs', launched in 2006, not only failed to resolve the issue but also set the stage for over 460,000 homicides.
The scale of the problem is staggering, with mass clandestine graves and bags containing human remains being unearthed in recent years near Guadalajara's football stadium. But with the World Cup fast approaching, local officials are determined to sanitise the city's image – including removing portraits and signs from the 'roundabout of the disappeared', thus erasing the very memories that fuel resistance.
"We've seen absolutely nothing change," Maribel Cedeno, a representative of Guerreros Buscadores de Jalisco, an organisation searching for missing persons in Jalisco, said. "The government's response to our case is non-existent." She demanded: "Where is our security? Where are we supposed to find justice?"
As the driver from eastern Jalisco put it, the massive influx of World Cup money into Mexico only serves as a stark contrast to the lives lost and families torn apart by the state's inaction. While authorities focus on providing security for foreign spectators, Cedeno's community remains searching for answers – their voices drowned out by the roar of football fans.
For now, Guadalajara's image is being painted with a veneer of cleanliness as construction workers tirelessly build stadiums and infrastructure. Yet beneath this façade lies a city grappling with an existential crisis – one that refuses to be silenced or disappeared altogether.