Bucaramanga, Colombia – The streets here have seen far too many fall. Yet, the violence does not end. It spreads like a slow fire, creeping into every corner of this once vibrant city, turning joy into fear.
It’s a war, not of ideals or nations, but of power and survival—fought by men who live in shadows. The bullets fly not in battlefields but on street corners, in alleyways, and near the homes where children play. And today, that fear has a name. It is Oscar Camargo, the man known to many simply as Pichi.
The Man Behind the Curtain
Pichi—his name murmured in low whispers, a name that sends chills down the spine of those who know it. Twenty years ago, he was a mere street vendor of drugs, another figure lost in the haze of desperation. But power grows where violence roots itself deeply. Over the years, he planted his flag and built his empire, orchestrating a symphony of fear, pain, and death in Bucaramanga’s underworld.
He stands, now a free man, at the center of a storm. The judge’s gavel may have granted him freedom, but the city remains shackled by his legacy. His release has stirred anxiety in the hearts of the people, and the air carries the weight of uncertainty.
“Why was Pichi set free?” they ask. Was it a mistake? An error in justice? The truth remains cloaked in silence, but the streets whisper a different story.
The Gangs at War: Los del Sur and Los de San Rafa
In Bucaramanga, two names rise above the others. Los del Sur and Los de San Rafa—rival gangs that battle for dominance in a city already on its knees. Their feud, ignited by the drug trade, has turned communities into battlegrounds. Their war, ruthless and unrelenting, leaves a trail of broken lives and shattered dreams.
And at the heart of it all, Pichi, the mastermind who wields the kind of power no prison could ever strip away. He commands Los de San Rafa like a puppeteer, while Poporro, his rival, leads Los del Sur with an iron fist. The two men, locked in a deadly dance, have made the city their chessboard, and the citizens, mere pawns.
“How many more will fall?” ask the mothers, the fathers, the children. For in this war, no one is safe.
A City on Edge: The Return of Fear
General Henry Bello, who now stands as the face of law and order in Bucaramanga, speaks with a heavy heart. He knows well the weight of the task before him. “Pichi’s freedom,” he explains, “was granted through a revocation. The decision was not ours, but we are watching closely now. Especially in San Rafael, where we are focusing our efforts to stop the trafficking of weapons and drugs.”
But there is a deep, bitter irony in his words. For as the authorities work tirelessly to combat the violence, the capo at the heart of it walks free.
Jaime Andrés Beltrán, the city’s mayor, speaks plainly about his fears. The largest drug bust of the year, valued at over 100 million pesos, is a victory, but he knows it is not enough. “Pichi is still out there,” he says, his voice tinged with frustration. “And while we battle his soldiers, the real war cannot be won with him walking free.”
His words ring true. For every Coto, another of Pichi’s loyal men, taken off the streets, another rises to take his place. And for every shipment seized, there is another, hidden in the shadows, waiting to find its way into the hands of those who seek to destroy.
The Shadow of Pichi: His Legacy of Fear
To those who have lived through the violence, Pichi is not just a man, but a symbol. He is Bucaramanga’s Pablo Escobar, a figure whose name has come to represent the very worst of what this city has endured. His rise to power, marked by cunning escapes and bloody battles, is the stuff of legend. But to the families of his victims, there is no legend, only loss.
His story began two decades ago, a young man on the streets, selling poison to the desperate. But soon, he rose above the others, establishing Los de San Rafa, the gang that would come to control much of the drug trade in the city. His power grew unchecked, even from behind bars. From La Tramacúa, one of Colombia’s most notorious prisons, Pichi continued to rule.
Even after his arrest in 2015, even after his dramatic escape—leaping from a second-story window like something out of a dark fairy tale—he remained a force. In 2018, he was captured again, but the system failed once more. By 2019, he was out on house arrest, and the killings continued.
The City Cries for Peace
There are no easy answers for Bucaramanga. The city has become a place where fear walks hand in hand with hope, where the light of day is stained by the shadows that creep in after dark. And while the police work tirelessly to capture men like Coto, those closest to Pichi, the battle feels never-ending.
It is a fight not just for control, but for the very soul of this city.
A Glimmer of Hope
But there is always hope. It lives in the hearts of the people, in the strength of those who fight not with bullets, but with courage. And though the city has been scarred by the likes of Pichi, the people of Bucaramanga are resilient. They rise every day, ready to reclaim their streets, their homes, their lives.
The question remains: Will justice come for Pichi, or will the shadows continue to rule? The answer, perhaps, lies not in the hands of those who wield power, but in the hearts of the people who dare to stand against it.
