
Manitoba's lack of effective police oversight sidesteps scrutiny of law enforcement, say advocates for change
Within hours of DeBungee's body being pulled from the McIntyre River, the Thunder Bay Police Service had publicly stated his death appeared non-suspicious. There was no autopsy, no formal witness statements, no real investigation completed. A police officer suggested to his brother, Brad DeBungee, that Stacy had perhaps passed out, rolled into the river and drowned.
In response, Brad and the then-chief of his community of Rainy River First Nations filed a complaint against the northwestern Ontario police service, requesting a systemic review of its investigative practices. Their complaint led to an investigation into the service's handling of the deaths and disappearances of Indigenous people and the release of a damning report that found systemic racism within the force. The 2018 report recommended that at least nine sudden deaths of Indigenous people be re-investigated due to substandard initial investigations.
'The failure to conduct adequate investigations and the premature conclusions drawn in these cases is, at least in part, attributable to racist attitudes and racial stereotyping.'–Gerry McNeilly, author of the Broken Trust report
Yet in Manitoba, there isn't a dedicated avenue to make this kind of complaint. Of the province's police oversight agencies, none are empowered to investigate what are known as 'systemic complaints' — complaints that go beyond a single incident to allege patterns of behaviour from a police service around a particular issue. This is in contrast to Ontario, as well as British Columbia, and, as of later this year, Alberta, which have such avenues. The Civilian Review and Complaints Commission for the RCMP, an independent agency separate from the national force, also has the power to initiate systemic investigations.
There is a group trying to change that. In an October 2024 letter, the Coalition of Families Affected by Police Violence wrote to Premier Wab Kinew and Justice Minister Matt Wiebe, calling for the creation of a public complaint body with the power to investigate systemic complaints. The group would want to submit such a complaint alleging the presence of systemic racism in the Winnipeg Police Service, and in particular, in the context of the number of Indigenous people who've been fatally shot or otherwise died in an altercation with members of the service.
And they're not the only group to raise the concern. In a 2021 survey by the Southern Chiefs Organization, 88 per cent of the roughly 750 First Nation respondents said they agreed with the statement that racism is a problem in policing in Manitoba. In March, meanwhile, the National Family and Survivors Circle, which was formed to guide action around the recommendations of the National Inquiry into MMIWG, called for an inquiry into how systemic racism may have shaped the Winnipeg Police Service's response to cases involving missing and murdered Indigenous women, girls and Two-Spirit people.
In a statement, Winnipeg police Chief Gene Bowers, who was sworn in earlier this year, said he wants the service to be a 'leader in reconciliation.' He cited several steps he's taking towards that goal, including: having discussions with Indigenous leaders and some family members impacted by the service's decision not to proceed with a landfill search for the bodies of women slain by a then suspected serial killer, as well as creating an Indigenous Advisory Circle and hiring a consultant on Indigenous relations and communications.
Stacy DeBungee's death came at a tense time in Thunder Bay. A long-awaited inquest had just begun into the deaths of seven Indigenous youth, who had come to Thunder Bay from remote First Nations to attend high school. Like DeBungee, most of the students' bodies had been found in the city's waterways.
After the discovery of DeBungee's body, on Oct. 19, 2015, his brother and their community's then-chief filed their complaint with what was then called the Office of the Independent Police Review Director. It culminated in the report, Broken Trust: Indigenous People and the Thunder Bay Police Service, under the leadership of then OIPRD director Gerry McNeilly.
'I said loudly what the Indigenous community in Thunder Bay and other areas have been saying for decades,' recalled McNeilly, a longtime lawyer who served as the OIPRD's inaugural director from 2008-19 and had previously been the executive director of Legal Aid Manitoba.
FRED LUM / THE GLOBE AND MAIL FILES
Gerry McNeilly, who oversaw a damning review of the Thunder Bay Police Service, says a mechanism that allows for systemic reviews is needed in Manitoba, given its demographic makeup.
FRED LUM / THE GLOBE AND MAIL FILES
Gerry McNeilly, who oversaw a damning review of the Thunder Bay Police Service, says a mechanism that allows for systemic reviews is needed in Manitoba, given its demographic makeup.
In addition to his probe of the Thunder Bay Police Service, McNeilly also conducted systemic reviews of other issues and services, including into the use of strip searches by police across Ontario; into the broad canvassing of DNA samples from migrant workers by the Ontario Provincial Police; and into the response of police to the G20 protests in Toronto in 2010.
Reflecting on this work, McNeilly encouraged Premier Kinew to make legislative changes to create an avenue for systemic reviews to be undertaken around policing in Manitoba.
'Manitoba could, in fact, be a leader,' he said. 'I highly recommend and encourage them to pursue setting up a systemic review complaint process.'
He said the province could take the legislation behind Ontario's Law Enforcement Complaints Agency (LECA, formerly OIPRD) and the newly formed Inspectorate of Policing to augment Manitoba's own Law Enforcement Review Agency (LERA) — and 'give it some teeth.'
'It's needed in a place like Manitoba, given the makeup of the population, it's absolutely needed to make the police more effective and efficient,' McNeilly said.
McNeilly said the ability to conduct systemic reviews is something every province and territory should have the ability to do. Having a police commission — 'that doesn't do much or rubber stamp(s) things' — does not erase the need for a systemic review process, he said.
Julian Falconer, a lawyer in Ontario who represented Brad DeBungee and Rainy River First Nations in the complaint process and has long worked on cases surrounding police accountability, including the Seven Youth inquest, recalled giving a speech earlier this year at training day for LECA's employees.
'I had the Broken Trust report sitting on the table,' Falconer said. 'I told them that their single most important tool in attempting to create credibility and confidence in any investigations they did for Indigenous people is that Broken Trust report.'
He added: 'In my view, what Broken Trust represents is a very damning finding of systemic racism in respect of an entire police service, and it represents the first such finding in Canadian history that I'm familiar with — and I've been at this for 34 years.'
The 'level of embracing' of the final report and of McNeilly by Indigenous people in Thunder Bay remains embedded in his mind, he said. But seven years later, the report's harsh criticism of the police remains relevant.
'Time has completely stood still since December 2018,' Falconer said. 'The Thunder Bay police have literally stumbled, stuttered and utterly dodged accountability — and it is an exercise in what I would call the 'war of attrition,' where they simply seek to outlast their critics.'
In 2024, Falconer worked with the families of Corey Belesky and Jenna Ostberg to file complaints against the Thunder Bay police with Ontario's Inspectorate of Policing, which was created that year, alleging failures to properly investigate their deaths.
Falconer said systemic complaints are a tool for telling the truth.
'If you're unable to access any tool whatsoever for dealing with systemic issues, then obviously you've doomed these police interactions with Indigenous people to keep repeating themselves,' he said. 'You have an Indigenous premier in the province of Manitoba. I mean, isn't this the time to expect an actual sense of response? If Ontario can do it, why can't Manitoba?'
The Coalition of Families Affected by Police Violence — and its call for change — came out of the death of James Wood, a 35-year-old man from O-Pipon-Na-Piwin Cree Nation in early 2024, following an interaction with members of the Winnipeg Police Service. The Independent Investigation Unit of Manitoba is still investigating the incident.
After Wood's death, his family began building the coalition and reached out to the Public Interest Law Centre seeking opinions on how to address what they saw as systemic racism in the Winnipeg Police Service. The law centre, which is a division of Manitoba Legal Aid, in turn, hired Meaghan Daniel, a Montreal-based lawyer who focuses on police accountability and inquests.
ANDREJ IVANOV / FREE PRESS FILES
Lawyer Meaghan Daniel says the oversight structure in Manitoba focuses solely on the actions of individuals and avoids broader scrutiny.
ANDREJ IVANOV / FREE PRESS FILES
Lawyer Meaghan Daniel says the oversight structure in Manitoba focuses solely on the actions of individuals and avoids broader scrutiny.
In researching possible legal strategies, Manitoba's lack of an avenue for filing a systemic complaint quickly caught her attention.
Daniel, who worked as an associate with Falconer's law firm on the complaint against Thunder Bay police, knew that in this case, a systemic complaint is exactly what she'd want to suggest as a course of action. She cited two reasons: without a systemic scope complaint, the remedy will also fail to be systemic. And second, systemic complaints are a way to amass information about the functioning of a police service, leading to the ability to make extremely tailored, detailed recommendations.
'The state's tactic to individualize things allows them to scapegoat a particular person and avoid the systemic scrutiny — the scrutiny of the policies and the procedures and the ways in which these structures are set up to benefit some of us and not others,' Daniel said.
Last fall, members of the coalition met with the province to flesh out the requests made in their letter, which, in addition to creating a new oversight body, also asked the province to review legislation that determines how inquests function.
The Free Press asked the province if the creation of a systemic complaints body is a policy option being considered.
In a statement, Justice Minister Matt Wiebe did not answer that question but provided detail on other work his department is undertaking, including launching a strategy that will involve making police training more consistent across Manitoba and developing provincial standards for police services around certain operational matters, such as arrests, use of force and criminal investigations. He said he expects these new standards to be in place in the coming months and that compliance will be monitored by the Manitoba Police Commission.
Ontario's Inspectorate of Policing, which launched in 2024, could serve as a model for Manitoba.
With the inspectorate, the goal was to create an agency that would take a holistic look at the province's policing system — to ensure effective and transparent policing. And for its oversight to be proactive, not just reactive, once a critical incident has already happened.
PHIL HOSSACK / FREE PRESS FILES
There is a growing call for the creation of an oversight body with the power to conduct systemic reviews of Manitoba police forces.
PHIL HOSSACK / FREE PRESS FILES
There is a growing call for the creation of an oversight body with the power to conduct systemic reviews of Manitoba police forces.
In an interview, Ryan Teschner, a lawyer serving as the inaugural Inspector General of Policing, who previously served as the executor director of the Toronto Police Service Board, explained that the body's mandate is to ensure police services, police service boards and special constable employers operate in compliance with the province's policing laws and regulations. The inspectorate independently monitors and assesses those entities and is empowered to provide both advice and support on governance and operational matters, he added.
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If the body finds a service or board isn't in compliance with Ontario's laws, Teschner noted, they are empowered to do something about it, whether it's issuing recommendations or directions, the latter of which carry a requirement to act. In extreme cases, if change still isn't made, steps such as the suspension of a police chief or a member of a police board, or even disbanding an entire service, are available.
The body has the mandate examine issues that are specific to an entire service or that are thematic, cutting across the province. While the inspectorate accepts certain complaints from the public, its goal is also to identify issues proactively, including through a centre for data intelligence that focuses on collecting information from police services and boards, as well as from researchers studying emerging issues.
Teschner said one of the inspectorate's unique features is this ability to pinpoint systems-based issues, looking at the 'entire landscape.' He added that 'the whole purpose' is to work towards minimizing individual cases coming up in the future.
'As we look at themes, we may realize that something going on in one corner of the province may well be going on in another quarter,' Teschner said. 'The ability to tie all of that together through our inspections (and) being able to make recommendations, or if necessary, directions that apply to the system as a whole — that improves the strength of Ontario's policing system.'
marsha.mcleod@freepress.mb.ca
Independent Investigation Unit of Manitoba (IIU)
What: The IIU is mandated to investigate 'serious incidents' involving police officers in Manitoba, whether on- or off-duty. This means the agency investigates whenever a police officer has caused — or may have caused — a death or serious injury, or is alleged to have broken a law. The agency decides whether charges should follow. It has jurisdiction over all police services in the province, including the RCMP. The agency does not receive complaints from the public and instead, begins investigations after being notified by the relevant police service.
Who: It is currently being led by acting civilian director Bruce Sychuk, who was previously a senior supervising attorney in the Crown prosecutions domestic violence unit.
The results: Since the IIU's creation in 2015, it has completed 24 investigations into cases where police have fatally shot someone. Of those cases, one has led to criminal charges.
Law Enforcement Review Agency (LERA)
What: LERA accepts complaints from the public about municipal police officers in Manitoba. (It does not have authority over RCMP officers). The agency looks into what are known as conduct complaints, such as an officer abusing their authority or making a false statement. It does not look into complaints that are criminal in nature. The majority of complaints to the agency involve Winnipeg police officers.
Like the IIU, LERA does not have a mandate to conduct systemic reviews.
Who: The current commissioner, Harmen Wouda, is a former Winnipeg police detective, which as CBC News reported last year, made Manitoba the only province to hire a former police officer in such a role. Wouda was appointed in 2024 by the current NDP government, drawing criticism from the Assembly of Manitoba Chiefs. In an email, Wouda noted he retired from his role with the service more than six years ago.
The results: According to LERA's latest annual report, which is for 2023, 97 per cent of complaints dealt with that year were either dismissed by the commissioner or abandoned/withdrawn by the complainant. Two per cent were resolved informally and one per cent — representing a single complaint — went before a judge at a public hearing. Disciplinary action can be meted out through a public hearing, or, if an officer willingly admits to a disciplinary default.
Four public hearings or judicial reviews were held in 2024, Wouda said in his email.
Manitoba Police Commission (MPC)
What: The mission of the MPC, which was created in 2010, is to 'ensure effective civilian oversight and a high standard of policing in Manitoba,' according to its website. Its duties are to provide advice to the province's director of policing on law enforcement standards; consulting with the public; and developing policy and arranging trainings for police boards. In an email, its executive director, Andrew Minor, noted: 'The duties of the MPC are very concise and do not involve any direct link, responsibility or involvement with respect to the operations of the police officer conduct oversight system per se.'The MPC does not receive complaints from the public.
Who: According to its website, the commission has seven commissioners. Lawyer David Asper is the chair.
The results: The body has not published a report since 2019 and also has not issued a news release in six years.
Asked about the commission's work over the past six years, Minor cited consultations around public safety and community wellbeing done in 2020, as well as development of the terms of reference for the Independent Review of the Manitoba Police Services Act, completed the same year. He said the commission has since assisted Manitoba Justice in implementing changes recommended by that report, in addition to its regular legislated duties.
Professional Standards Units (PSUs)
What: PSUs are a form of oversight that operates within a particular police service. In Manitoba, they investigate complaints that don't involve potential criminal wrongdoing. These types of bodies accept complaints from the public, as well as those that originate from within the service itself.
results: According to City of Winnipeg regulations, disciplinary hearings for members of the Winnipeg Police Service must be held in camera, meaning that both the hearings — as well as the results — are not public. This is in contrast to practice in Ontario, where hearings are typically open to the public, as well as within the RCMP and the Edmonton Police Service.
Civilian Review and Complaints Commission for the RCMP (CRCC)
What: The CRCC is an independent agency of the federal government — separate from the RCMP. It accepts complaints from the public, most of which are referred to the RCMP. It also reviews the handling of complaints that were initially dealt with by the service itself.
Who: The CRCC's chairperson position is currently vacant.
The results: The CRCC is able to conduct systemic reviews of RCMP activities. These reviews can be initiated by the commission itself, or at the request of the federal minister of public safety or a provincial minister responsible for policing. This has included an ongoing systemic review of the RCMP's controversial Community-Industry Response Group or C-IRG, known for its policing of resource extraction protests in B.C., as well as a review of the RCMP's handling of the complaint process in Nunavut.
Police service boards
Police boards in Manitoba don't handle complaints and cannot be involved in the discipline of individual members of a police service. They do, however, act as an oversight mechanism of a service's police chief, among other duties.
Court inquests
In Manitoba, deaths that come as a result of a police officer's actions are subject to a mandatory inquest, held before a provincial court judge. Inquests cannot lay blame or dispense any disciplinary measures. A judge can issue recommendations, but according to Free Press reporting, over the past two decades, in inquests involving a fatal shooting by police, judges have often opted not to do so.
Manitoba Human Rights Commission
The commission accepts complaints pertaining to discrimination under Manitoba's Human Rights Code, which includes both individual and systemic instances. Unlike some other provinces, it doesn't have the power to convene a public inquiry, which would include, for instance, the power to compel documents.
Manitoba Ombudsman
Municipal police services are covered under the mandate of the provincial ombudsman. An individual can make a complaint to the body under the Ombudsman Act if they feel an administrative policy, law or bylaw was not adhered to. The body also has the ability to conduct systemic investigations.
Justice Minister
Under the Police Services Act, if the justice minister determines that a police service has failed to provide 'adequate and effective' policing, they have substantial powers available, including suspending the service, in whole or in part; removing the police chief; or arranging for the RCMP to take over, if remediation is unsuccessful.
Marsha McLeodInvestigative reporter
Marsha is an investigative reporter. She joined the Free Press in 2023.
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Toronto Star
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Takeaways from AP's reporting on armed groups recruiting children in Colombia
CALDONO, Colombia (AP) — When the armed groups that operate in Colombia's drug trade need new recruits, they are increasingly turning to the children of the regions where they are active. Confronting the problem often falls to Indigenous groups, who blame the government for doing too little to stop it. In Cauca, an impoverished department in southwest Colombia, a coalition of Indigenous groups has documented more than 900 cases of Indigenous youth recruited since 2016, including some as young as 9. And the groups say the pace of recruiting has quickened as armed groups have expanded crops like the coca that is used to make cocaine.


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CALDONO, Colombia (AP) — When Patricia Elago Zetty's 13-year-old son went missing in Colombia's conflict-ridden southwest, she didn't hesitate. Elago and five fellow members of the Indigenous Guard trekked across mountainous terrain to confront the guerrillas they suspected of taking her son and another teenager to bolster their ranks. When the unarmed Guard members reached the guerrillas' camp, about 30 fighters stopped them at gunpoint. After a tense wait, a tall commander stepped out from a gate, and Elago said she had come for her son. The commander said he would 'verify' whether the boy was there. After about an hour of negotiations and radio calls, five more guerrillas arrived with her son Stiven and the other boy. When she saw Stiven, Elago said, it felt like her soul returned to her body. 'He hugged me and said, 'Mom, I never thought you'd risk so much,'' she said in an interview with The Associated Press. 'It was a victory.' Rescue missions like Elago's have intensified for the Indigenous Guard of the Nasa people, which formed in 2001 to protect Indigenous territories from armed groups and environmental destruction such as deforestation and illegal mining. Since 2020, as armed groups tightened their control of Nasa territory to expand illicit crops like marijuana and coca, those guerrillas have ramped up their recruitment of the region's children by dangling offers of cash and protection. Over eight days reporting in the Cauca region, the AP spoke to more than 20 young people affected by the recruitment as well as several families grappling with the same threat. Some youths had escaped, others were rescued, and a few chose to remain with the groups. Guns versus a sa cred staff Colombia has endured more than half a century of internal conflict fueled by inequality, land disputes and the drug trade. Leftist guerrillas, right-wing paramilitaries and criminal groups have fought for control of territory — with rural, Indigenous and Afro-Colombian communities caught in the crossfire. A 2016 peace deal ended the war with the country's largest rebel group, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, or FARC, but violence never fully stopped. Since the accord, child recruitment has been driven mainly by FARC dissident groups who rejected the peace process. The ELN, a Marxist guerrilla force active since the 1960s, and the Clan del Golfo, Colombia's largest drug-trafficking gang, also forcibly recruit minors. Violence hangs heavy over the region. During AP's visit, two former FARC combatants who laid down arms under the peace deal were gunned down near Caldono. At the same time, families reported the disappearance of several youths — believed to have been recruited. This is the climate in which the Guard, known as Kiwe Thegnas in the Nasa Yuwe language, now works. For the Nasa, coca holds deep cultural, spiritual, and medicinal significance. Its exploitation to produce cocaine is seen by many as a distortion of a sacred plant — one that fuels violence and environmental destruction. Members of the Guard carry 'bastones de autoridad' — sacred staffs symbolizing moral leadership and collective responsibility. The staffs are often adorned with the traditional Guard colors of red and green — which represent blood and earth — and emblems. Elago, 39, had a small photo of her son on hers. Steeped in spirituality, the staff is believed to offer protection from harm, giving Guard members the courage to confront armed groups. Yet more than 40 Guard members have been slain since the peace deal, according to Colombia's Indigenous Council of Cauca (CRIC), a longstanding organization representing Nasa and other Indigenous communities. 'They carry guns — we carry staffs. The staff represents our life, our courage,' Elago said. 'They've aimed their rifles at us … pressed them to our chests, to our heads.' Elago said the rebels her group confronted three years ago expressed respect for the Guard but claimed the boys had joined voluntarily, which infuriated her. She said Stiven had left home the day he went missing to collect wages he was owed for farm work near a coca-growing area controlled by FARC dissidents. She said she challenged them: 'You talk about respecting Indigenous people, but you're killing our youth. What respect is that?' One rebel told her he'd never seen a mother speak so boldly. But another warned: 'Take care, mamma. You already smell like formaldehyde,' a chemical used to preserve dead bodies. Not all rescues are successful. Eduwin Calambas Fernandez, coordinator of Kiwe Thegnas in Canoas, an Indigenous reserve in northern Cauca, described leading a 2023 attempt to bring back two teenagers recruited through Facebook. They met with commanders, only to find the 15- and 16-year-old boys did not want to return and were considered by the armed groups to be old enough to decide for themselves. Calambas said that the main armed faction in his area has declared it will no longer return recruits 14 or older to their families. Children are lured with promises of cash, cosmetic treatments, or food for their families, according to Indigenous Councils Association of Northern Cauca, or ACIN. Once inside the camps, many suffer physical abuse, political indoctrination and sexual violence — especially girls. 'Once in, it is very difficult to leave,' said Scott Campbell, the United Nations human rights chief in Colombia. ACIN has documented 915 cases of Indigenous youth recruited there since 2016, some as young as 9. ACIN has warned of a sharp increase lately, with at least 79 children recruited between January and June. Colombia's Ombudsman's Office confirmed 409 cases of child recruitment during 2024, up from 342 the year before, with over 300 cases alone in Cauca, one of Colombia's poorest departments. Campbell called the Colombian government's response 'ineffective and untimely,' noting a lack of consistent state presence and failure to partner with Indigenous authorities on prevention. ACIN said the government has left armed groups to fill the void by providing roads, food and other basic services in remote and neglected areas. Colombia's Family Welfare Institute, or ICBF — the main agency protecting children — told AP it funds community programs and Indigenous‑led initiatives that have contributed to 251 children leaving armed groups in the first half of 2025. The ICBF insists it is working with Indigenous authorities and pressing armed groups to uphold a ban on recruiting minors. Armed groups 'breathing down our necks' From her classroom high in the mountains, Luz Adriana Diaz watches children arrive each morning under the shadow of a conflict they're too young to fully grasp. Her small school in the village of Manuelico — reachable only by a winding road from Caldono — is surrounded by dense forest and coca fields planted and patrolled by armed groups. Banners promoting the Dagoberto Ramos front of the FARC — one of the most violent factions in Cauca — hang along the roadside. 'Since 2020, it's been very sad — threats, recruitment, killings … living in the middle of violence,' Diaz said. Diaz has spent 14 years teaching across the Caldono municipality, but says only in this village, surrounded by coca, has the presence of armed groups felt so constant. Teachers 'work with them breathing down our necks,' she said. The Indigenous Guard has stepped up patrols outside the school to discourage recruiting. Diaz says the armed group members have come to the school to buy food, borrow chairs and interact casually with staff. 'We can't say no,' she said. 'I've had to be very careful.' Several former students, some as young as 11, are now in armed groups, she said. Some left quietly. Others were taken. One young woman who recently fled FARC dissidents, speaking on condition of anonymity for fear of retaliation, said she joined the armed group at 16 not because she was forced but to escape family problems. She said she mainly cooked, organized supplies and cleaned weapons. She was afraid at first but was not mistreated. She eventually fled after a change in commanders left her fearing harsher treatment or being moved to a faraway region with an increased threat of combat. Now she works with a local initiative that supports families trying to prevent their children from being recruited. She warns teens about the risks of joining armed groups. As for the parents, she said: 'I tell families they need to build trust with their children.' A mother, once a recruit herself, fears the same for her children Fernández, a woman in her mid-30s who asked to be identified only by her last name for fear of reprisals, was 12 when armed men came looking for her in her rural Cauca community. Terrified, and with no clear way to say no, she joined the ranks of the FARC. In the years that followed, she said she endured rape, psychological abuse and starvation and saw brutal punishments against those who tried to escape. Wednesdays What's next in arts, life and pop culture. Her escape, three years after being taken, came by chance. One night, a commander sent her to charge a cell phone. Instead of returning, she hid for days in a nearby home, protected by civilians who risked their lives to shelter her, before fleeing the region. Now, raising three children in a village near Caldono, she watches and worries about her eldest son, now 12. 'Young people are so easily fooled … they're shown a bit of money or a cell phone, and they think that's just how life works,' she said. 'Then they're sent into combat zones where so many children die.' ___ The Associated Press' climate and environmental coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP's standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at


Winnipeg Free Press
2 hours ago
- Winnipeg Free Press
Takeaways from AP's reporting on armed groups recruiting children in Colombia
CALDONO, Colombia (AP) — When the armed groups that operate in Colombia's drug trade need new recruits, they are increasingly turning to the children of the regions where they are active. Confronting the problem often falls to Indigenous groups, who blame the government for doing too little to stop it. In Cauca, an impoverished department in southwest Colombia, a coalition of Indigenous groups has documented more than 900 cases of Indigenous youth recruited since 2016, including some as young as 9. And the groups say the pace of recruiting has quickened as armed groups have expanded crops like the coca that is used to make cocaine. Here are takeaways from The Associated Press' reporting on the child recruitment: Colombia's violent past is not past Colombia has endured more than half a century of internal conflict that continues today. Leftist guerrillas, right-wing paramilitaries and criminal groups have fought for control of territory. A 2016 peace deal ended the war with the country's largest rebel group, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, or FARC, but violence never fully stopped. FARC dissident groups rejected the peace process. The ELN, a Marxist guerrilla force active since the 1960s, and the Clan del Golfo, Colombia's largest drug-trafficking gang, are also active. All the groups recruit children. Where the dissidents are active, residents complain that they control everything. A schoolteacher at a village near Caldono, surrounded by dense forest and coca fields planted and patrolled by armed groups, said their presence in and around the school is constant. She described several former students, some as young as 11, now in the groups. One group confronting the recruiting The Indigenous Guard of the Nasa people formed in 2001 to protect Indigenous territories from armed groups and environmental destruction such as deforestation and illegal mining. Since 2020, they've seen armed groups amp up their recruiting of children to coincide with the guerrillas' expanded operations in growing drugs like coca. Guard members have stepped up patrols at schools like the one near Caldono to try to discourage recruiting. But they have also undertaken rescue missions to bring back children. One Guard member, 39-year-old Patricia Elago Zetty, told the AP of trekking across mountainous terrain when her own 13-year-old son went missing three years ago to confront the guerrillas suspected of taking her boy and another teenager. She said she and her unarmed comrades were stopped at gunpoint and spent tense moments before the boys were returned to them. But not all such missions are successful, with some groups refusing to return recruits above a certain age. What is the government doing? Scott Campbell, the United Nations human rights chief in Colombia, said the government's response has been 'ineffective and untimely.' He noted a lack of consistent state presence and failure to partner with Indigenous authorities on prevention. The Indigenous Councils Association of Northern Cauca, or ACIN, said the government has left armed groups to fill the void by providing roads, food and other basic services in remote and neglected areas. Colombia's Family Welfare Institute, or ICBF — the main agency protecting children — said it funds community programs and Indigenous‑led initiatives that have contributed to 251 children leaving armed groups in the first half of 2025. The ICBF insists it is working with Indigenous authorities and pressing armed groups to uphold a ban on recruiting minors. A recruit who fled and now tries to stop others from going One young woman who recently fled FARC dissidents, speaking on condition of anonymity for fear of retaliation, said she joined the armed group at 16 not because she was forced but to escape family problems. She said she mainly cooked, organized supplies and cleaned weapons. She was afraid at first but was not mistreated. She eventually fled after a change in commanders left her fearing harsher treatment, or being moved to a faraway region with an increased threat of combat. Now she works with a local initiative that supports families trying to prevent their children from being recruited. She warns teens about the risks of joining armed groups. As for the parents, she said: 'I tell families they need to build trust with their children.' ___ The Associated Press' climate and environmental coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP's standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at