Join Our Email List
Your Email Address:
 
Send Page To a Friend

Julieta and Tami: All That and a Bucket of Tortillas
To Rescue a Girl and Catch a Kidnapper

>Video Interview with Doņa Julieta

"He even bought my entire bucket of tortillas." That's how doña Julieta,* a resident of an impoverished neighborhood on the outskirts of Tegucigalpa, explains the way lawyer who works for the Association for a More Just Society's Honduran partner organization, ASJ, went above and beyond the call of duty in rescuing and defending her teenage granddaughter from a kidnapper.

Let me explain.

Doña Julieta makes and sells tortillas for a living. She rises early each morning to mix ground corn and water into masa, pat out balls of this dough into tortillas, and cook them on a griddle over a wood fire. She makes hundreds.

When she has filled a bushel-bucket full of tortillas, she or her granddaughters, who she raised herself almost since they were born, walk around the neighborhood selling them. Over the years they have established a regular routes and clients who await hot-off-the-griddle tortillas delivered to their doors each day.

One day not long ago, while Julieta's granddaughters were out on the daily tortilla route, an older man who was a regular client grabbed the oldest granddaughter, Tami, pushed her into a taxi, and sped off with her.

In days previous, this man had taken an unhealthy interest in Tami. Her sisters were wild with fear, and when, sobbing, they told doña Julieta what had happened, she was too.

For two days Julieta was paralyzed with helplessness. Tami did not reappear, and Julieta did not know who to turn to. It was one of her daughters who asked her why she didn't try her luck at a legal office just a few blocks from her home. Like in North America, lawyers
in Honduras charge a lot—and doña Julieta didn't have an extra cent. So she was skeptical.

But she went to the legal office anyways. It was the right decision.

The office was one of ASJ's Gideon Centers, and as soon as the paralegal volunteers there heard doña Julieta's story, they set out with her to report Tami's kidnapping to the police and other appropriate authorities

On her own, Julieta would likely have gotten lost in the maze of Honduran bureaucracy in trying to report Tami's kidnapping. In fact, she would not have been able to afford the bus and taxi fares needed to visit all police stations, court buildings, and other government offices necessary.

But the ASJ paralegals' knowledge of Honduras' police and court systems—and their
willingness not only to help Julieta for free but moreover to pay her bus far everywhere they needed to go—resulted in the police swiftly organizing a raid on the home where Tami was being held, resulting in her rescue and the kidnapper's arrest.

Tami was safe back at home, but being kidnapped and abused had left her emotionally traumatized. ASJ's psychologist began weekly therapy sessions to help her begin healing.

Now here's where that bucket of tortillas comes in. On the day doña Julieta was set to testify in court against the man who had kidnapped and abused her granddaughter, Luís, the ASJ lawyer who was representing she and Tami in court, drove up to their poor mountainside neighborhood to bring them to court. But when he pulled up to the corner where Julieta had set up shop, she had sold only a few of the hundreds of tortillas she had made early that
morning.

Fresh tortillas don't keep—if Julieta waited until she got back from court to sell all that remained in her bucket, they would go bad. But she had to get to court to give testimony that would keep Tami's kidnapper in prison and out of her life.

So that day Luís bought an entire bucket of tortillas.

That's the kind of dedication ASJ has to bringing about justice for the poor.

And this story is just one of hundreds of stories of fear, oppression, and injustice being replaced with justice and hope—thanks to your support of the Association for a More Just Society.

Learn more about the Gideon Project.

*Names changed for privacy and security.

>Video Interview with Doña Julieta

More Success Stories

Breaking the Cycle of Violence: Putting an End to Vigilantism
Thanks to the intervention of the AJS-supported Peace & Justice project, a band of vigilantes who brutally murdered teenage boys suspected of being involved with gangs in a poor neighborhood in Honduras was recently convicted.

While the mothers of these boys will never get their sons back, they at least can be satisfied that the men
who took their sons from them have been brought to justice, and that they will not be able to harm any more boys from poor neighborhoods. read more

Laura's Story: From Trauma to Hope
Early in the morning as she did errands for her mother, then-13-year-old Laura was accosted by three young men who beat her, raped her, and before leaving her sobbing in an alley, threatened to kill her if she told anyone what had happened. Rape and gang rape occur with disturbing frequency in Honduras' poor urban neighborhoods, but nearly all such crimes go unpunished—often because victims are too ashamed, to frightened of reprisals, and have too little trust in the police to report them.

But Laura did report the crime committed against her, and thanks to her bravery, and to the AJS-supported Peace & Justice Project, all three of her attackers have been arrested and are awaiting trial. read more

Historic Conviction in Juvenile Inmates Torture Case
One October day in 2004, four staff members of a government institution whose goal is supposedly to rehabilitate troubled youths beat several juvenile inmates with wooden clubs. They beat them so severely that one inmate, who was struck on the hands, subsequently lost all his fingernails, and another suffered fractures in his hands and one of his arms. If the AJS-supported Peace & Justice Project had not intervened, this horrible beating would have gone unpunished. read more
Increasing Security in a Precarious Place
Gerson [pronounced "Hair-son"]'s house is built on one of the few relatively flat pieces of ground in the steep, maze-like neighborhood of Villa Cristina in Tegucigalpa. But until recently, living there was in some ways just as precarious as living in nearby houses that keep an unsteady grip on sheer cliff faces.

The reason: Gerson had no legal title to the lot his home is built on. read more | watch video

"María"
María (name changed for privacy) is just 13. By all rights she should be spending her days chatting with friends, enjoying classes and perhaps playing a prank our two with her classmates—in short, having a normal adolescence. Instead, since late November she spends most days locked in her house, scared and ashamed of what the gossipers in her small rural town will say about her: “raped.” read more

Tomasa Turcios and other Security Guards
In the five years Tomasa worked as a private security guard, her employers routinely forced her to work unpaid overtime (24-hour shifts were the norm) and illegally deducted the costs of uniforms and other equipment from Tomasa's pittance of a salary (only about $130 a month). They also withheld government-mandated bonuses. Once a manager confiscated Tomasa's gun, then accused Tomasa of stealing it and told her she would have to pay more than a month's salary to replace it...read more | watch video (Tomasa) | watch video (Betanco)

Bienvenida Carías
Getting a property title changed Bienvenida Carías' life. When Bienvenida moved to what is now the neighborhood of Flor del Campo, in Tegucigalpa, the only thing there was tall grass—and snakes. There were few neighbors and no electricity, telephone service, storm sewers, or running water. Almost the only thing Bienvenida and her six daughters did have was a dream—a dream of owning a small piece of land for themselves...read more

Yazmin Zuniga
The income Yazmin earned as a cashier at Popeye's Chicken wasn't much, but it helped her pay for classes and materials at the university, contribute part of her three younger brothers' tuition and school supplies, and supplement the meager income her mother earned working at a bakery in the lower-class neighborhood where they lived.

Things were fine for the first year and a half, but when a new manager took over Yazmin's job turned into a nightmare... read more

Felipa Mejia
Felipa is a single mother from Flores de Oriente, one of the poorest neighborhoods in Tegucigalpa. When she came to an AJS-supported Gideon Counseling Centers she suffered from anxiety about her son, who had fallen into crime and drug use.

Felipa's anxiety was so bad that she had stopped eating, and was in danger of starving herself to death. Thankfully, a friend stepped in and helped her get help at the Gideon counseling center in Nueva Suyapa...read more

Eufemia Cruz
Eufemia is one of 27 fast-food employees fired under illegal circumstances and denied legally mandated severance pay in early 2004. Some have since settled out of court for less than they are legally owed. But others, including Eufemia, have stuck with the case AJS is handling.

Eufemia is every bit as persistent as the woman in Jesus' Parable of the Persistent Widow...read more

The Association for a More Just Society (AJS) oversees and funds initiatives carried out by Honduran partner organization la Asociación para una Sociedad más Justa (ASJ). AJS is a US-registered 501(c)(3) nonprofit, so all donations to AJS are tax-deductible for US taxpayers.

home about AJS donate contact us justice club
current cases success stories about Honduras why Honduras?