The generous rains in the first six months of the year create splendorous landscapes in the natural fields and lakes of the Maranhão Lowlands. Through the giant water mirrors, the canoes guided by the Cruupoohré, Rokrã, and Rop Prupru Indians tear through the vegetation over the majestic Lake Aquiri, until we reach the place where a mutilated and persevering man lives.
Pan Akroá Gamella, 42 years old, born Aldeli de Jesus Ribeiro, has scars all over his body, the result of gun wounds, stab wounds, kicks, and blows suffered in the Gamella Massacre, a violent attack carried out on April 30, 2017 against the Indians of Viana, a municipality with 52,649 inhabitants in the Baixada Maranhense, 214 kilometers from São Luís.
Five years later, between tears and the signs of a bruised body, Aldeli displays the nobility of a warrior. "I am one of the heroes of my people. I have lived again," he announces, remembering the day he was shot in the back, had his wrists and left leg cut off, and suffered two deep cuts in his head—one of them opening a deep fissure in his forehead—in addition to a laceration in his mouth that caused the loss of five teeth.
On the banks of the exuberant Lake Aquiri, in the village Centro dos Antero, in her beautiful wooden house painted in tropical tones, surrounded by ornamental plants and fruit trees, Aldeli Ribeiro celebrates her rebirth, noticeable in the ethnic name chosen for her indigenous identity—"pan"—which means "seed" in the language of the Gamella.
"The order was to kill everyone, even the children," recalls another victim of the massacre. José Ribamar Mendes Akroá Gamella, known as Zé Canário, 55, had his right hand and left leg cut off and received a cut on his face. He never forgets that day: "It was about two o'clock in the afternoon and we went out to do a ritual. There were men, women and children and everything, in Lagoa das Flores, when we were attacked. There were a lot of people and they started shooting at us. They surrounded me and cut off my arm with the terçado knife used to cut juquira. They were going to cut my neck," he recalls.
After long stays in various hospitals and several surgeries, the two Gamela bear many physical and psychological similarities. Their hands and legs were fixed with platinum pieces. Aldeli Ribeiro still manages to sweep the yard around her house and takes care of the farm with the help of relatives. Zé Canário laments. "My life is over," he says, showing his stiff right hand and wrist, unable to make basic movements, and his weak leg. He receives a minimum wage pension, has eight children, and counts on his wife's solidarity for the daily work in the field, personal hygiene, and household care.
Hunting, fishing, and farming—the indigenous people's main sources of survival—are no longer part of their daily lives. Pan Akroá Gamella has seven children from various marriages and receives an accident allowance of R$600.00. With this money, she juggles to maintain the house, help her dependents, and buy medicine to alleviate permanent pain and other sequelae. The attempt to get a full disability retirement always comes up against the bureaucracy of the Social Security system.