did make me feel protected as I walked toward my unknown fate.
I entered the courtroom handcuffed, next to my attorney and followed by my guard, with a clear conscience, because I had nothing to hide. Olyslager came in with his attorney, the state’s public prosecutor, and two other men. I had no idea why there were so many people there, carrying suitcases full of papers, while I had nothing but my scribbled notes on the copy of Olyslager’s accusation against me, and an attorney who was a stranger I had just briefly met the day before, holding a couple of folders in his hands. The day I was apprehended, my family was forced to find a lawyer as quickly as possible to try to mend the unforeseen circumstances I was suddenly facing. Arturo Miranda was recommended by one of our acquaintances and was immediately hired. I could only pray that Miranda had prepared sufficiently and was good at his job.
The room was small, but it managed to hold the judge’s bench, a young man seated next to the judge working on a computer, and two other desks facing the judge: one for my attorney and me, the other for the opposing team. As I sat there observing my surroundings, the judge finally walked in and we all stood up. While we waited for the judge’s instructions, I asked my guard to loosen my cuffs because they were hurting me.
I now knew that this day had been in the works for over a year, because Olyslager´s statements against me at the Attorney General’s Office were dated October 15, 2014. This indicates how long it had taken for a judge to sign an arrest warrant against me, and the time it had taken the accusers to execute the master plan to include me as the third person necessary to make this a criminal case. They could have chosen my husband’s assistant, or maybe a junior accountant, but they had chosen me. They had had over a year to reconsider, to realize that there was no evidence against me, that I was already a victim, that I had two small children. But they obviously did not care. I was not human to them. I was simply a dispensable object they were going to use to get to my husband.
The legal proceeding that followed is a bit murky in my mind because I frankly did not understand much of what was happening; I was completely overwhelmed by the circumstances. I do remember that one of the first things Olyslager’s attorney did was ask the judge to recuse herself. Why? Because the attorney represented the law firm of Hector and Frank Trujillo, and they were the judge’s first cousins. I couldn’t believe my ears. If the judge recused herself due to this conflict, I would have to spend the entire weekend in the courthouse’s holding cell until another judge could hear my case on Monday or Tuesday. To my dismay, the judge agreed; however, she clarified that she would recuse herself from this case only after she had heard my first declaration, as it was my right to be heard by a judge within twenty-four hours of my apprehension. And so, I survived the first blow of many still to come.
It was now my turn, time to give my statement, which was basically a response to Olyslager’s accusatory testimony against me. I looked him straight in the eye and stated that I did not know him, that I had never spoken to him, that I had never asked him for money, that I had never accepted or received money from him, nor had I ever managed his money. I said I considered it an act of cowardice to attack me in response to the hatred he held for my husband, and that I considered his accusations violence against my integrity, my reputation, my emotional state, and my financial well-being. I continued with my statement, explaining that I had only become aware of my husband’s financial troubles on July 29, 2014, and had been fortunate to have been hired as fundraising and public relations coordinator for AYUVI shortly thereafter. Furthermore, I made it clear that that job had allowed me to put food on the table, and today, because of these false accusations, I had lost that precious employment.
I spoke about the Entrepreneur Organization (EO), where Olyslager claimed he had met my husband, and where he claimed he had met me. I explained that I had never been a member of that organization, and that if I had assisted, it had been on very few occasions when the organization hosted family activities. I was sure they could contact the organization and learn exactly how many events I had ever attended.
Then I went one step further: I asked them to present any e-mails, messages, times, places, dates, or any other form of communication between Olyslager and myself. I was sure not a single one existed and they would come up empty-handed. I then added that I had tried to save my marriage during the ten months after I had become aware of my husband’s dire financial situation, but that I had not succeeded. I told them that my husband and I had been separated for the past five months, and divorce was now inevitable.
I also made sure to remind the court that I am a dual US-Guatemalan citizen. I was born in Miami and I pay US taxes. I told them that my finances are an open book and that my bank accounts speak for themselves, yet no one had asked me to disclose them. Finally, I told the judge that I needed to go home to my children.
I am sure there was more, but this is all I remember. Maybe one day I will be able to read the court transcripts or hear the audio.
Then came the questions. I was interrogated by Olyslager’s attorney, the attorneys representing Global Forest Partners, and the public prosecutor, and I responded as best I could. My accusers were ruthless and made horrifying statements, accusing me of awful things as they presented piles of documents for the judge to review. They claimed it was evidence, but there was no way any human could go through all that paperwork in the short time we had before us. According to them, all the evidence was against my husband, but I had been instrumental in getting investors to invest. They claimed that when my husband received the money, he transferred it to my accounts, where I managed it further. Where was the evidence of these transactions? I was flabbergasted. I had to sit there, handcuffed and silent, while they went on and on about me with accusations that they had to know were false, with no regard for the damage they were causing an innocent person, and all before a judge who did not know me, but held my future in her hands. After my accusers finished destroying my name with unsubstantiated lies, the judge had to come to a decision, without having time to even flip through the piles of documents, simply going on what was stated thus far in court that day.
To my surprise, she concluded that since there was no report from IVE (Intendencia de Verificación Especial, also known internationally as Unidad de Análisis Financiero or UAF, a special department created in 2001 aimed to prevent money laundering and the financing of terrorism in Guatemala), the money laundering accusation should be thrown out. She then said she didn’t understand why there were attorneys representing Global Forest Partners (GFP) present during a hearing where Olyslager was the claimant, to which GFP’s attorneys from the law firm of Mayora & Mayora revealed that they were joint plaintiffs.
Finally, the judge asked all parties what they were requesting from the court. The public prosecutor, who was there on behalf of the state, alleging that a law had been broken, and the two attorneys from Mayora & Mayora representing GFP requested preventive detention, claiming that since I am a US citizen, as well as a Guatemalan citizen, and had means, I was a flight risk and could flee the country as the other two accused already had. Up until the day before, my husband and his accountant weren’t officially fleeing; however, when a warrant for their arrest was issued and they were nowhere to be found, they officially became fugitives of the law.
When the judge asked Olyslager’s attorney what they were asking for, Olyslager leaned over to his attorney and whispered something in his ear. Startled, the attorney stared back at him speechless and Olyslager simply said, “Will you say it, or should I?” The attorney reluctantly proceeded, “My client, Mr. Olyslager, wants the court to know that he will soon be a father and he does not request the court to send the accused to prison.”
The last one to speak was my attorney, Arturo Miranda. Up until that moment, I had no idea if my attorney was any good, but as soon as he began, nobody in that courtroom could take their eyes off him. It was as if the lion had woken up and everyone present was wishing to one day be like him. Unlike the insignificant attorney representing Olyslager, attorney Juan Ignacio Gómez-Cuevas from Mayora & Mayora representing GFP, and the attorney general’s public prosecutor, Miranda was not only well prepared
