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 and efficient, but he had the necessary ammunition to counter the attacks. His passion left me in awe. Among other things, he claimed that the only option was to let me go home, since there was not a single piece of evidence hinting at my involvement.
The judge linked me to due process and declared that I could go home during the following three months of investigation. She stated that I should not leave the country without prior authorization, and that I should sign the book at the Attorney General’s Office every fifteen days to prove that I had not fled the country. She did not set bail, deciding that it wasn’t needed. I’d be going home that same afternoon.
We left the courtroom and my loved ones were waiting outside with open arms. We were all relieved, but I knew the nightmare was just beginning; it would continue its course and I had no choice but to let it. I still could not believe it. I had returned to Guatemala and stayed there, knowing that I had done no wrong and naively thinking there was no reason to fear or to hide. How wrong I had been. No wonder most people in this country decide to flee at the first sight of legal trouble, instead of trusting the justice system. In Guatemala’s defense, and notwithstanding my husband’s alleged actions, this legal strategy orchestrated by Olyslager and his attorney, the law firm of Mayora & Mayora representing Global Forest Partners, and an apparently partial public prosecutor, is one of the vilest I have witnessed and experienced in my life. But then again, I am not an attorney and I had never been in legal trouble before.
—
I was sent back to the carceleta to wait as the officers prepared the paperwork for my release. The moment I stepped inside the holding cell, the women asked me how it had gone and if I was to go home that day. I was still in shock and couldn’t allow myself to be happy about the news, because I didn’t feel I could trust the court to efficiently process and guarantee my release that day. That was immediately followed by another thought: how could I show happiness about going home when I was surrounded by so many women who may not have the same privilege that day? So, I quietly answered, “God willing, I should go home today.” And to my utmost surprise, these women, each one dealing with her own personal story, many facing years behind bars far away from their loved ones, and most lacking the support and resources I had, approached me one by one to hug me and wish me well. That pure and humane gesture moved me to the core.
I’m not sure how much time went by, but eventually my name was called and I was asked to step out of the carceleta. I said my goodbyes and wished the women luck, never imagining I would see this place again so soon. I was then taken to sign the exit book, where we waited for some paperwork to come through. Finally, I was led back up the same ramp I had walked down less than thirty-six hours before. Once again, as we passed the men’s holding cell, the male inmates got rowdy while the police officers were gentlemen. Miranda was by my side every step of the way, until he delivered me safely to my family, waiting outside on the street. I gave him a long heartfelt hug and thanked him.
Once I’d got into the car, I spoke to my friends on my cell phone and they asked me if they could come over to my house to see me. I was exhausted, but how could I say no? I warned them I had nothing to offer them at home but that I needed to see them, hug them, share my story with them in the flesh, and simply have the same wonderful and blessed time we always have when we are together.
As I walked through my front door, I was lovingly greeted by my dogs, Sidney and Chelsea, and warmly welcomed with a hug by my housekeeper, Olga. My children were supposed to come home that night, but they were so happy spending time with their cousins at my brother Turi’s home, that my mother decided to let them stay the night. This worked out fine. It would give me time to celebrate with my family and friends, and allow me a desperately needed good night’s sleep in my own bed that night.
I