Abimael Guzmán Silva worked as a personal accountant for a rich man. That position allowed him to climb socially and eventually become a prosperous grocer in the port of Moyendo, Arequipa. His success and comfortable income led him to give in without restraint to his greatest weakness. As a result, he had 14 children, four with his wife and 10 more with different women. One of them was Verenice Reinoso, a 24-year-old woman who lived in a small nearby town where Guzmán had extended part of his commercial network. As a result of this clandestine relationship, a child was born whom he would later agree to register as Manuel Rubén Abimael Guzmán Reinoso, without imagining that years later that child would imprint his name and surname on the darkest and saddest pages of Peru's memory by becoming the greatest genocidal maniac in its history. He was born on December 3, 1934 and lived with his mother, grandmother and two aunts in a humble adobe house located in a small district of 2,500 inhabitants called El Arenal, belonging to the province of Islay, Arequipa. But his arrival into the world was not a cause for celebration. Economic hardship weighed heavily, as did the gossip of a conservative and ruthless town towards an illegitimate son and absent godfather, since during the first years Abimael Guzmán Sr. neglected his responsibilities, then appeared and as compensation hired Verenice to work in one of his businesses near the port of Moyendo. in that place. Some years later, Verení would fall madly in love with the promises of a Palestinian merchant and in 1940 she decided to leave with him and her 6-year-old son to Siquani, a city located southeast of Cuzco. Facing the disapproving gaze of his entire family, who were not wrong. The Palestinian boyfriend never accepted the child, nor the responsibilities of being a stepfather. In less than 2 years I could no longer stand his presence. Then Verenice, overcome by the attention, made a final decision. He traveled for three days by land with his son to Chimbote. She gave it to her paternal grandfather and returned to Siani alone. Abimael was 8 years old when his mother briefly said goodbye to him. His words would never leave his memories. He hugged him and said, "Take care of your mother's son. You're the best person to do it." Then he left and never saw her again. The boy would stay with an older gentleman he did n't know and who had no intention of caring about him. He didn't even bother to enroll him in school 313, the only state primary school in Chimbote back in 1942. Left to his own devices, little Abimael found refuge in the workshop of an old watchmaker who taught him the trade and paid him with tips. He lived there for almost 2 years until a new decision beyond his control would take him away again. One of his mother's brothers, after his insistent request , decided to take care of him and agreed to give him education, shelter and food in exchange for him doing household chores after studying. At the age of 10, Abimael resumed his classes in a small school located in an old hut and was able to finish primary school at the age of 14. His move to secondary school meant another drastic change. He left the calm of his small school to enter the tumult of the large May 2nd school unit, where he encountered much more astute classmates, full of neighborhood codes and different languages, customs foreign to the world that Abimael knew. He was a shy boy; he had a lot of trouble expressing himself and making friends. He was n't afraid of a single one, only of his comrades. At home they didn't talk to him much either, except to give him orders related to his work, such as mopping floors, washing dishes, clothes and other errands. One afternoon, the inhabitants of the house discovered that Abimael had not fulfilled any of his daily tasks. They searched for him and found him in his room drenched in sweat and with abdominal pain that seemed to be killing him. They put him in the taxi and took him to the hospital on Carrión Street. He had suffered from appendicitis which, due to the wait, turned into a fatal case of peritonitis, but surgery saved his life. After that, a paternal aunt, moved by the situation, decided to intercede for him so that his father would accept him into the home and include him among his legitimate children. Then, in February 1949, at the age of 15, Abimael moved again. This time his destiny led him to the city of Arequipa, to the house of that man who had impregnated his mother, given her his name and disappeared completely since then. He arrived at a large house with a wide wooden gate, knocked on the door and a housekeeper invited him to enter. There was his father. undeniably it was. The physical resemblance was evident, and they also seemed to share the same distant personality. His father was a cold and undemonstrative man. Moreover, it was not paternal affection that made him accept it, but the incessant request of his sister and the approval of his wife. A young woman of Chilean origin named Laura Jorquera, who without hesitation embraced Abimael with displays of affection and protection, treated him like another son. His numerous half-siblings also accepted him and made him feel like part of a family for the first time. He was enrolled at La Sayle school in Arequipa, an institution reserved for the children of the city's wealthiest families , where his brothers also studied . There he shared a classroom with boys who grew up among privileges. Now he was one of them too. But Abimael was always different. He was an antisocial, sullen boy, difficult to understand. He never managed to establish deep ties with any of them. He didn't seem interested either. He spent his time reading all kinds of books, especially classic works and novels, stories that took him away from that reality that he still couldn't fully embrace. Until one day, a year after he had arrived, something happened. An event that would awaken a new and uncontrollable feeling within him, one that would never leave him. An uprising shook the city of Arequipa. It all began with a school strike against the dictatorship of General Odría. The military, in brutal repression, did not discriminate based on age. They attacked children, teenagers, and their parents, sparking outrage among university students. Workers and union employees soon joined in, forming a huge demonstration. The civilian population flooded the streets, took over the municipal offices, the prefecture, captured the airport and several radio stations. For a moment they had control, but the regime reacted with military force, unleashing a bloodbath, 29 dead and more than 70 wounded. Abimael observed everything from a distance. He didn't participate, but something inside him ignited. He watched in amazement as an entire people rose up in rebellion for a common cause. This silent epiphany left him dazzled. From that moment on, everything would change for him. Until then he had been a withdrawn boy with little determination, but something awakened. Attracted by the ideological fervor of communism, he decided to approach the Communist Party of Arequipa and knocked on its doors seeking a place among its ranks. He also immersed himself in the texts of Marx and Mut Sung and began to deeply admire Joseph Stalin, that ruthless dictator responsible for millions of deaths from famine, repression, and extermination. Stalin used to sum everything up in one sentence: one death is a tragedy, but a million deaths is just a statistic. The young Abi, as his new family had begun to call him , absorbed all this information in silence, without arousing anyone's suspicions. Hidden behind the covers of thick books, an ideological fanaticism began to take shape in him that decades later would turn the daily life of Peruvians into a bloody nightmare. Nobody noticed it, not his stepmother, nor his brothers, nor his teachers or his schoolmates, who remember him as a shy, laconic boy, but very respectful towards others. In 1952, AI finished high school at the age of 18 and applied to the San Agustín University of Arequipa. He entered the Faculty of Law. Inside, she discovered a new world she had never imagined. Heated debates, conferences, ideological discussions, and political talks pulsed in every corner. It was a space where voices rose without fear and every idea was a conviction, something he had never dared to do. For the first time, he felt free to express what he thought and felt, to unleash that self-esteem that he had begun to rebuild little by little thanks to the kindness and affection of Laura Jorquera. Then that taciturn boy who could never feel like he belonged anywhere seemed to have finally found his place in the world. He took advantage of his early university years to join the Student Federation and soon became a combative leader, always eager for causes to fight for. While fervently reading the texts of Marx, Angel, Lenin, Studying, trying to find answers and direction in them . For the first time, he managed to forge links with some colleagues who shared his ideological concerns and with a professor who would become his mentor, Miguel Ángel Rodríguez Rivas. The professor would introduce him to both the universe of philosophy and the world of alcohol, guiding him in endless discussions with his other disciples. They used to meet at the Cillón Serrano bar, a few blocks from the university. There, amidst glasses and cigars, Rodríguez presented himself as a fervent communist with incendiary ideals of revolution. He used to argue that men were superior to angels, since the latter could only be good, while humans had heaven and hell at their disposal. Years later, Abimael Guzmán would evoke this influence in his memoirs, confessing that it was then that he discovered the very core of the ideology that beats in all actions. Driven by that vision, before completing his law degree, he decided to enroll in parallel in the small faculty of philosophy, whose classrooms housed barely three students. But that was the least of it. What is really important is that this choice would allow him to prolong his stay at the university for almost 9 years, time which he would use to build stone by stone that terrible fanaticism that would mark his life along with that of millions of Peruvians. After completing both degrees, he obtained a modest position in a law firm, but it wouldn't be long before he returned to his beloved San Agustín University. It was all thanks to his mentor, Miguel Ángel Rodríguez, who got him a teaching position at the Faculty of Arts. Once inside, Abimael became actively involved in internal struggles, mainly in a campaign whose objective was to remove certain teachers and incorporate others with a clear Marxist orientation under the argument of improving the quality of teaching. It was a stage he lived with enthusiasm in the early 1960s and in which he adopted for the first time a battle name, comrade Álvaro. However, his belligerent nature brought him influential enemies who soon removed him from his path. Comrade Alvaro lost his job, but he was already convinced that he wanted to continue being a teacher. Then she applied to many other universities until one responded. The San Cristóbal de Huamanga University of Ayacucho offered him a position as a professor of the history of philosophy. A piece of news that pleasantly surprised him and that would unfortunately trigger a terrifying fate for that city. Then, at 27, Abi had to say goodbye to Laura, his adoptive mother, and the only place that had welcomed him with affection to embark on another journey of uprooting, this time to Huamanga, the capital of Ayacucho, a city where he knew no one and would be on trial for a year, but would stay for much longer, since there he found promised land and instantly understood why his resume had been so well received. The university was a hotbed of political tensions because its new rector, Efraín Morote Best, had a plan: to transform the institution into a Marxist stronghold where proselytizing tasks would take precedence over professional training. Their objective was, of course, to create a student mass capable of igniting the spark of a popular revolution destined to destroy the exploitative bourgeois state. Guzmán must have felt like a fish in water in that place. His ideology, so closely aligned with the rector's vision, allowed him to quickly consolidate his position within the university. He was first appointed director of general studies and shortly afterwards promoted to chief of staff, a strategic position that gave him direct influence over the most important core of the plan, the Faculty of Education. There, he focused his efforts; indoctrinating future teachers would be a key move. Who better than them to weave from the ground up an ideological network capable of reaching the most remote corners of the country? Each teacher had to be a multiplying link in charge of sowing the message among children and adolescents who would eventually become convinced soldiers, ready for combat. That would be the real turning point in shaping what they called the revolutionary masses. Then they made sure that these young teachers quickly found work in remote schools. Thus, in 1962, Rector Efraín Morote Vest, with Guzmán at his right hand, began to lay the foundations on which, years later, one of the most barbaric and painful chapters in the history of Peru, called Shining Path, would be built. Borot was a short man with a well-groomed mustache and elegant style. Sociable and charismatic, so much so that he was able to cultivate influential friendships such as those with Jorge Basadre and José María Arguedas, while Abimael Guzmán was very different, he wore wide suits and avoided ties, he had a disheveled presence and was taciturn. He had a lot of trouble socializing. However, these differences did not pose a barrier between them. On the contrary, ideology and radicalism united them deeply. Even his co- workers used to joke that Frín Morote was his father. And in fact, Osmán Morote, one of the rector's sons , would become one of the main founding leaders of Shining Path years later. The plan to train militants within the classrooms soon yielded results. The San Cristóbal de Huamanga University soon ceased to be merely an academic center and became a communist training center focused on attracting young people from impoverished backgrounds, marked by inequality, practically condemned to a life of deprivation. These ideas were reinforced by the professors, who took advantage of their students' vulnerability to plant a powerful idea in them. The revolution was not only an escape, but the only possible path to redemption. They promised them glory and showed them the method to achieve it. They would not only fight for themselves, but for collective liberation, to break the chains of injustice and, if necessary, write a new history in blood where they were the protagonists. With this discourse they sold illusions and hopes, and thus an organization called the Revolutionary Student Front was born within the university, which would later be integrated into the Regional Committee of the Communist Party. Under the leadership of Abimael Guzmán, this organization began to adopt a leadership structure with work plans, schedules, operational cells and zonal visions and a system of promotions that rewarded loyalty and ideological commitment. After a few months, what had been a scattered group of impromptu supporters became a political party with its own machinery and strategic vision. All this happened in 1963, while Fernando Belaú de Terri was assuming the presidency of Peru. His government, despite having detailed reports and clear indications, did very little to stop the germination of these guerrilla hotspots. The alert also gave the United States, which under the leadership of John F. Kennedy had been promoting the creation of an organization called the Peace Corps. Officially, its mission was to promote mutual understanding with developing countries. However, one of its most strategic purposes was to curb the advance of left-wing ideologies, mainly in Latin America, a region that was beginning to lean dangerously towards Soviet influence and the Cuban example. With this intention, the peace corps arrived at the San Cristóbal de Huamanga University, where they were categorized as enemies from the first moment. They were not seen as humanitarian volunteers, but as emissaries of neocolonialism, an instrument of Yankee imperialism that had to be rejected without concessions. There were mobilizations, rallies, and strikes that involved not only the university, but also part of the town of Huamanga. The pressure was so overwhelming that an unprecedented event was achieved anywhere in the world: the complete expulsion of the Peace Corps. This triumph consolidated Abimael Guzmán as a highly influential and respected professor. That year, 1963, was undoubtedly a great year for him, not only because of the expansion and strengthening of his political party, nor because of his growing prominence within the academic community, but also because it was the year in which he would fall madly in love with Augusta de Yanira la Torre Carrasco, who would later be known as Comrade Nora, a key figure in this story. Augusta came from a private school and upon finishing her studies chose to follow in her mother's footsteps and enter the normal school for women to train as a primary school teacher. However, she was soon drawn to the ideological fervor that has her at the National University of San Cristóbal. Convinced that the real changes were taking place there, she decided to follow her intuition and move. At just 18 years old, Augusta already had a very defined political vision. Her father, Carlos la Torre, was a passionate admirer of Lenin and the Russian revolution, so he approved of his daughter's involvement with these circles. Augusta was a beautiful young woman with a sweet smile, but she had a strong, straightforward character and a prickly rebelliousness that longed to find a place to channel her inner thoughts. She was detached from social conventions and the opinions of others. That's why she had no qualms about falling in love with her teacher, who was 11 years older than her. Two details that could cause a scandal in a society as conservative as that of the time, in which Augusta was a minor. That is why he first decided to take him to his house under the pretext of wanting to facilitate a meeting between two great communists, his teacher and his father. It was a clever move. They understood each other instantly. It didn't take long for Abimael Guzmán to gain the trust and sympathy of the entire family. His status as a respected professor, his intellectual prestige, and a fairly respectable salary made him a more than acceptable match. Thus, just a few months after meeting, in February 1964, 19-year-old Augusta and 31-year-old Abimael entered into a civil marriage with the notary permission of their parents and these photographs were taken. Then they succumbed to a bourgeois custom. They went on their honeymoon aboard a bus. They visited Cuzco and Arequipa, and made love for the first time. Upon returning from their honeymoon, they lived at Julia's parents' house. Then they moved nearby, but they always came back there for lunch. Augusta did not perform the roles of a housewife, although she constantly expressed her desire to be a mother. However, life would deny him this privilege. Augusta was not menstruating, she went with her husband to the gynecologist and he finally confirmed a terrible news. She had infantile ovaries, a genetic condition that would prevent her from becoming a mother. She was 20 years old when she received the diagnosis that led her to make a radical decision. If I could never have a child, there was no point in studying to educate others. She abandoned her teacher studies and devoted herself exclusively to political work alongside her husband. Some scholars on the subject claim that had this circumstance not occurred, Abimael would not have had the impulse, the courage, or the necessary companion to found Shining Path and begin his bloody armed struggle. We will understand why later . If you're enjoying the video, I invite you to like and subscribe, but above all, to share it. It's the best way to help the channel and encourage more content like this. Augusta's parents understood her decision and not only accepted it, but wholeheartedly supported their daughter Yerno's political project. So much so that they made available to their cause the family estate called Iribamba, a space that was transformed into a meeting, indoctrination and training center for the first guerrilla cadres, who years later would become key pieces within the terrorist organization. Abimael and Augusta could never have children, so they devoted their entire lives to ruining the dreams of other people's children, mainly peasants condemned to poverty inherited for generations. Ayacucho was the epicenter, but over the years Shining Path spread its shadow over other departments such as Huancavelica, Junín, Pasco, Hánuco, Apurima, Cuzco, especially in the most rural areas of each of them, where the state and education did not reach, where in many cases it still does not. What land could be more fertile to sow so much hatred towards the system than those historically forgotten by it? That was the mission of Shining Path, even before adopting that name; its mission was to reach young people without access to education to begin sowing in them the first seeds of its revolutionary discourse. Many had not finished primary school, others had never set foot in a school, and several did not speak Spanish, only Quechua. They were all between 12 and 25 years old, sons and grandsons of peasants subjected for generations to a system of domination and exploitation by the landowners. Within a country that still retained a semi-feudal agrarian structure, Sendero promised them that they would suffer the same fate, that their chances of social advancement were nil, and that what they were experiencing was not really a life, but an endless period of their mission, and that justice would never come unless they took it together by force. A single spark can set an entire prairie ablaze. Mau Setung maintained this position, and Abimael fanatically followed what he thought. Mausetung, that deranged governor, leader of the Chinese communist party, considered the greatest genocidal maniac in the history of humanity, responsible for more than 60 million deaths, a Marxist-Leninist revolutionary who adapted communism to the reality of his country. Unlike classical Marxism focused on the industrial working class, Mazetun argued that the revolution should emerge from the peasantry, from the deep pain and accumulated rage of the most exploited, and from that resentment build the revolutionary strategy that would begin the people's war in which power should be born from the rifle. In 1965, Abimael Guzmán and Augusta la Torre received great news. They would be part of the delegation sent to China by the Communist Party of Peru. to attend the Chinese Communist Party's top school, one of the most important political-military schools of the Maetung regime, where they were not only indoctrinated, but also trained for war. Those 6 months on Chinese soil would be crucial for what would come later, as they fervently absorbed every lesson, every method, and every tactic. They learned to organize ambushes, to carry out raids on undefended villages, to attack law enforcement with precision. They were also instructed in the use of chemical substances for the manufacture of homemade explosives and demolition devices. “Absolutely everything can be blown up,” they were told. From buildings to people or animals, all that’s needed is creativity and conviction, and they had it. That training awakened in Abimael a deep and twisted interest, known to all, which led him years later to blow up cars, houses, police stations, roads, bridges, power lines, and more. Upon completing their training in China, the couple returned to Peru with their hearts ablaze. There was no longer room for ordinary life, nor time to waste. They didn’t return to Yakucho. Augusta, the tower, would leave for Cajamarca and from there travel through different regions organizing party cadres and reinforcing the ideology in unreached communities, taking advantage of her fluency in Quechua to lead these incursions. Meanwhile, Abimael Guzmán would settle in Lima to dedicate himself exclusively to ideological work. He completely abandoned any formal employment. He never practiced law or teaching again. He lived on the bare minimum, sustained by his remaining savings and the financial support of his party. Meanwhile, he would slowly make his way through Lima. Observing and analyzing the scenario of their ultimate goal. After three years at this pace, they returned to the city of Huamanga and found that the indoctrination they had set in motion years before was still operating efficiently. The number of students at San Cristóbal University had increased, and Abimael resumed his position there, now with a much more concrete idea of ​​what he wanted to convey. And in 1969, an event allowed him to consolidate this progress. It all began with a supreme decree issued by Velasco that sought to suspend free tuition for students who failed their courses. High school students in Ayacucho and their furious parents took to the streets, generating a massive demonstration that gained momentum with each passing day. But despite the widespread outcry, the military government did not yield, and from June 20 to 22, bloody open clashes erupted, leaving 20 officially recorded deaths, although testimonies and accounts claim there were more than 100, many of them minors. age. The bodies were taken to morgues, unleashing the fury of Abimael and Augusta, who decided to lead and decisively support these protests. They fiercely confronted the police and the assigned anti-subversive unit known as the " chis." They forcibly recovered the bodies of the fallen students, an event that the people would not forget, nor would the government. Days later, they were arrested along with dozens of other leaders and flown to Lima to the State Security Division, where they were charged with a long list of crimes: insulting the nation and its symbols, attacking law enforcement, use of weapons, manufacturing explosives, and damaging public and private property. However, this would not be the first or last time. Abimael was arrested five times in total during the years leading up to the official start of his armed struggle in May 1980. The first was in 1964, followed by 1969, 1970, 1972, and 1979. Naturally, no political action filled with The revolts and crimes that took place over 18 years may have been truly clandestine. It was always known that they existed, but no government did anything to stop them—not Velasco Alvarado's, nor Morales Bermúdez's, nor Belaú de Terry's during his two terms. None were capable of doing anything concrete to prevent the terrible outcome of this story. Abimael and Augusta were arrested, interrogated, but always released weeks later, enhancing their image with each of these triumphs. If the most dangerous leaders walked free, what was the worst that could happen to a simple soldier? Impunity became an incentive, as did the ferocity displayed by their leaders. They weren't mere classroom orators, after all. They knew how to translate their speeches into direct action, especially Augusta. She was a seasoned fighter willing to give her life for her ideals. Comrade Nora became a role model for many women. It was because of her that Shining Path ended up being one of the most feminized terrorist organizations in the world. At least 40% of its members were women. Without the imposing figure of Augusta la Torre, this would never have happened. She was respected and admired by many. That's why her strange death in 1988 generated a profound internal conflict within the party. How did Comrade Nora really die? Why was her body hidden? Why so many contradictions in Abimael's accounts ? How was it possible that almost immediately after her death he became romantically involved with his wife Elena y Parraguirre's right-hand woman? I will share all the details of this interesting and perverse story in an exclusive video for all members of this channel, whose contributions make more videos like this possible. I invite you to join this new community and enjoy these short stories that will accompany each new video. Throughout the 1970s, the country was filled with mobilizations, strikes, protests, and clashes with law enforcement. Guzmán and his wife took advantage of this climate of tension to grow politically and consolidate their plans within an autonomous organization that They christened it the Communist Party of Peru along the Shining Path of Mariáegui, or simply the Shining Path. Abimael Guzmán, who was known in the early years as Comrade Álvaro, decided to change his name to Gonzalo in a symbolic act that would mark the founding character of the new party. From this gesture also began the construction of what would later be positioned as Gonzalo Thought, which never actually existed. It was merely part of a well-executed marketing strategy, driven by his wife Augusta, who was responsible for building the myth of a supposedly brilliant thinker, a presumed sage in political and military concepts, something completely far removed from the truth. Guzmán never structured a doctrine, never formulated his own thoughts or analyses, nor did he elaborate or transform anything. His discourse was a mechanical repetition of Maoist manuals, without adaptation or contextual reading. Thus, Gonzalo Thought was nothing more than a myth, a lie repeated with force and conviction, enough to confuse thousands of teenagers and young adults. Critical information. But the truth is that his plan not only lacked sense, but also realism and contrast with a national reality that had already profoundly changed. Velasco's military government had already implemented an agrarian reform, completely transforming the country's rural landscape. It expropriated haciendas, eliminated landowners, and handed the land over to peasants. What was the point of continuing to repeat the Maoist script as if none of this had happened? Maoist theory based all its foundations on a concrete proposal. The revolution had to start from the countryside and move to the city as a natural response to the semi-feudal domination of the agrarian elites over the peasants. The root of Abimael's ideology had already been uprooted. There was no point in continuing to plant it like that. But he never reconsidered anything. He continued to believe that Peru in the 1980s was still the same as it had been in the 1950s. He wasn't a great analyst, nor a sane person, a blind devotee of Mazetung's theories. And when Mazetung died in In 1976, Abimael felt that the torch of destiny was being passed to him in the form of a sword. He began to hallucinate, believing more than ever that his role was inevitable, predestined, that the universal revolutionary lineage had not ended with Marx, Lenin, or Mao, but continued with him. He then proclaimed himself before everyone as the fourth sword of Marxism, the next historical link in humanity. It was during this time that Abimael completely lost his mind, so much so that even the traditional communist parties of Peru began to consider him a deranged fanatic, a traitor. They had been supporting and promoting strikes, workers' causes, and demonstrations, but they had no intention of armed struggle. Neither did the strikers; no one was asking for it or needed it. However, Abimael Guzmán chose to believe, and to make others believe, that he did convene the Central Committee of his organization for a crucial session that would extend from March 17 to 28, 1980. During those days, Guzmán sought to convince them with impassioned speeches and an almost biblical tone, assuring them that it was time to fulfill the prophecy. The armed struggle had to begin. But this wouldn't be as easy as simply giving the order to drag his followers away from their homes and activities, risking their lives and crossing the river of blood. More than a simple call to arms was needed. It was necessary to tap into their emotions, ignite their spirits, and Guzmán had dedicated himself to slowly planting that spark for years, thinking of this moment, the instant when he would have to ignite it, and unfortunately, he succeeded. On the night of May 17, 1980, the small district of Chuschi in Ayacucho was the scene of the first terrorist attack. At that time, the inhabitants didn't even know the meaning of that word. Nor could they imagine that something like this could exist. After that night, they would never forget it, because after that first attack, Shining Path unleashed a wave of violence that would not stop. There were hundreds of attacks of varying magnitude, almost all carried out between Between 1980 and 1982, the massacres claimed the lives of at least 35,000 innocent people, leaving behind the deepest and most painful wound in Peruvian history—a wound that remains open for many and is so difficult to heal. That's why I decided to tell this story, because I believe it's essential to preserve it in our collective memory. It's the best thing we can do to ensure it never happens again. This is a long story, very difficult to tell in a single video. If you'd like to see what happens next on this channel, let me know in the comments. And if you enjoyed this story, I invite you to subscribe because many more are coming. See you next time.