Puebla collective connection in shared grief

When María Luisa Núñez Barojas’ son didn’t return home one night in late April 2017, she became extremely worried. She lives in Tehuiztla, a part of Puebla city that’s so dangerous, people don’t go out at night.

“We imposed curfew,” she said. “After six in the evening, nobody leaves their house and nobody drives on the highways or on the roads because it is very unsafe.”

Her son Juan was with two friends in a Dodge Durango and were still out at 9:30 p.m, already enough reason to make him a possible crime victim where they live.