By Nadia Posada, Marketing Consultant 

After a year away, returning to Colombia felt like coming home. The familiar sights, sounds, and scents enveloped me, instantly grounding me in this place I know so well. With each passing day, I felt a growing urge to do something meaningful, to fill the void I’d been feeling. A year earlier, I had wanted to volunteer at a refugee shelter on the Venezuelan border but work commitments had gotten in the way. Now, with no plans tying me down, it felt like the perfect time to take on this challenge. The prospect of diving into such an intense environment left me anxious, yet determined.

From the moment I set foot in Pamplona, I was struck by the raw humanity of the situation. Families—young men, women, mothers, fathers, grandparents carrying their entire lives on their backs—each bore the weight of their own heartbreaking stories. Their resilience in the face of adversity was nothing short of inspirational. Fighting against seemingly insurmountable odds, they pushed forward, driven by the hope of a better life. While my own challenges paled in comparison, witnessing their determination ignited something within me. It’s all too easy to dwell in your own hardship, but these incredible individuals served as a powerful reminder of the strength we all possess, even when hope seems lost.

What affected me most profoundly, however, were the children. Despite having walked for hours, cold and hungry, they could still lose themselves in the simple joy of colored paper and a few toys. Their ability to slip back into carefree childhood moments, even in such dire circumstances, was deeply moving. Growing up in a middle-class area in the UK, I rarely encountered kids who looked like me. There was diversity, certainly, but I never saw Latina girls with whom I could truly identify. In their faces, I saw reflections of my younger self—reminders of the universal nature of childhood innocence.

A Moment with Edison

Among the many faces that left an indelible mark on my heart, Edison’s stands out vividly. This two-year-old boy, with his cinnamon skin and mischievous smile, stirred echoes of my own childhood. As I swung him in my arms, his laughter cut through the heaviness of our surroundings, momentarily lifting the veil of harsh realities.

Edison’s eyes sparkled as he pointed towards the twinkling lights dotting the hilltops—a view that had become familiar to him over the past four weeks of his family’s journey to Medellín, the city I now live in. 

Now, whenever I look towards those same twinkling lights, I can’t help but think of Edison. I wonder about his journey, about the challenges he and his parents faced in those final steps toward their goal. Did they find the opportunities they hoped for? 

Reconnecting with Adriana

Then there was Adriana, a five-year-old whose request for a princess drawing led to a touching connection. As I sketched Princess Peach, her eyes lit up with joy. I learnt that she and her family were embarking on a 12-day walk to Ecuador—a journey almost unimaginable for her four siblings, including 11-month-old Anne—filled me with concern.


Our time together was cut short by dinner, but the unfinished drawing became a poignant symbol of the interrupted childhoods I witnessed daily. Adriana’s hesitation to take the half-colored picture with her spoke volumes about the uncertainty these children face, never knowing if they’ll have the chance to complete what they’ve started.

Fate offered a surprising twist when I encountered Adriana and Anne again the next day at the next shelter. Thanks to the organization’s transportation, they were spared the nine-hour walk in harsh conditions. As we waited for their father to arrive, I watched Adriana’s growing anxiety, her eyes constantly scanning the room. The wait was a stark reminder of the precariousness of these journeys—many men and women go missing or fall too ill to continue. When her father finally appeared, exhausted but smiling, the relief and joy on Adriana’s face was uncontrollable. Their reunion made me recognise the love and strength that sustains these families through unimaginable hardships.

Reflections on Resilience

My time in Pamplona was transformative, opening my eyes to the incredible resilience of those facing unimaginable challenges. The connections I formed, especially with the children, filled me with a sense of purpose and served as a powerful reminder of the importance of hope, creativity, and joy—even in the darkest of times.

Each story, each smile, and each fleeting moment of happiness I witnessed amidst the struggle reinforced the beauty of the human spirit. These experiences not only allowed me to help others but also led me to discover my own reservoirs of strength.
The faces of those I met in Pamplona will forever serve as a reminder of the strength we can find in connection. Their stories have become a part of my own, shaping my perspective and reinforcing my commitment to making a difference, however small, in the lives of those who need it most.