Ilka Oliva Corado

Escritora y poetisa. Guatemalteca en Estados Unidos. Inmigrante indocumentada con maestría en discriminación y racismo. cronicasdeunainquilina.com

Xiomara Castro, the rebirth of Honduras

The humiliations suffered by undocumented Central American migrants who try to cross Mexico to reach the United States, seeking safety from the institutional violence of the narco-state, in the case of Guatemala, El Salvador and Honduras, have hurt a lot.…

Guatemala, a country corrupt to the core

Or from the ground up As if it wasn’t enough to live with a narco-state that violates with police and army, by air, sea and land, and imposes curfews and a state of siege on the native populations who fight…

Guatemala: the silence that kills

Generationally we have been told, since post-dictatorship times, that flies cannot enter a closed mouth, which is why we hang ourselves and are so brazen, because it is not a question of fear for what our grandparents lived through in…

The homeland of the undocumented

After the siege, the homeland becomes a perennial longing. The undocumented know this more than anyone else. It becomes that old letter of paper torn by so much folding and unfolding. It is in the memory of rainy days, of…

Carta abierta a Cristina Fernández de Kirchner de Ilka Oliva Corado

El día que estuviste en Arsenal, mientras hablabas a las multitudes, yo conducía por las calles de Chicago, estaba en el trabajo y mi empleadora me había enviado a hacer un mandado, le puse los audífonos al teléfono celular y…

Carta abierta a Cristina Fernández de Kirchner

El día que estuviste en Arsenal, mientras hablabas a las multitudes, yo conducía por las calles de Chicago, estaba en el trabajo y mi empleadora me había enviado a hacer un mandado, le puse los audífonos al teléfono celular y…

Carta abierta a Cristina Fernández de Kirchner

El día que estuviste en Arsenal, mientras hablabas a las multitudes, yo conducía por las calles de Chicago, estaba en el trabajo y mi empleadora me había enviado a hacer un mandado, le puse los audífonos al teléfono celular y…

Cristina, my love

I’m not a feminist, neither red, nor leftist, nor revolutionary. I know very well where I do belong: I am a pariah and Cristina is my love. As well as Mercedes Sosa, Dilma, Evita and Violetona Parra. And as a…

Dilma, unbreakable

“We should have killed her,” her torturers will have repeated hundreds of times to themselves when they saw her becoming Brazil’s first woman president. Or they would have wanted cancer to make her disappear from the political scene, just like…

Guatemala: the forced exodus of young girls and women

Why do girls, adolescents and women migrate? Why would they leave their countries of origin and embark on the misadventure of an undocumented journey with the certainty that they will suffer on the way? And if they do make it,…

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