Bajo Chiquito, the First Town where Migrants Arrive after Crossing the Colombian Border, is Closing
There was silence in the jungle as the sun had barely risen over the dense Darien jungle. In Bajo Chiquito, a small hamlet that had become the first refuge for thousands of migrants, news was heard as loud as a church bell: the shelter would soon close its doors. The confirmation came from the voice of the Minister of Public Security, Frank Ábrego, who announced the beginning of the “gradual” dismantling of these spaces that, for years, have witnessed the human drama of those who cross the border between Colombia and Panama. In the Emberá community where Bajo Chiquito is located, the announcement did not surprise many. This year, the number of migrants has fallen dramatically.
Juan Cansarí, an indigenous person from the area, knows this well. From his canoe, which used to transport up to 12 people per trip for 25 dollars each, he now only watches the calm waters of the river. “Before, about 60 canoes used to pass through the river every day, but not anymore,” he says with the resignation of someone who has seen his reality change in just a few months. Figures from the National Migration Service confirm what the inhabitants of Darién have felt in their economy. In January and February of this year, 2,637 migrants crossed the jungle, a tiny number compared to the 37,166 who made the same journey in the same period in 2024. The decrease is evident: in the last 72 hours, only 13 people have arrived in Panamanian territory from Colombia.
The Closure of the Shelters
With fewer migrants, the reason for the existence of shelters disappears. Lajas Blancas will be another one of those that will close, leaving only the one in San Vicente in Metetí, Darién province, operating, although with the uncertainty of how much longer it will remain open. The measures are clear: anyone who crosses illegally will be immediately deported to their country of origin or to the point where they entered. Minister Ábrego’s warning resonates like a final bolt on the Darién route. For years, Darien has been a route of hope and danger. Its paths, which have seen thousands of men, women and children pass through in search of a new life, are now gradually emptying out. But while the numbers are falling, the dilemma remains: has migration really stopped or has it only changed in form, seeking new, even more dangerous paths?
The Bishop of Darien Pablo Hernandez, refers to the transformation of the migratory flow. Since the arrival of President Jose Raul Mulino, the number of people in transit has dropped dramatically: from 300 or 400 a day in 2024 to just 14 in February 2025. However, the bishop insists that, behind the figures, there are human stories that cannot be ignored. “They are human beings who are looking for meaning in life, and we must welcome them, ensuring their integrity,” says Hernández. For him, migration is not just a statistical phenomenon or a security issue. It is, above all, a reflection of inequality and desperation. He warns of the risk of idealizing the United States as the “promised land” and reminds us that human dignity must be protected in any context.
In the Emberá region, where for years migrants were part of the daily landscape, the silence is now strange. The local economy, which in some way depended on the transit of foreigners, has felt the impact. However, what worries the inhabitants most is not the absence of income, but the feeling that this is not a real end, but only a pause before the tide rises again, as has happened in previous years. Darien, silent witness to so many stories, seems to hold its breath. Its trails have been the scene of tragedies and unfulfilled dreams, with the death of more than 500 migrants in the last ten years. Now, as shelters empty and measures become stricter, the question persists in the humid and suffocating air of the jungle: is this the end of a humanitarian crisis or just the beginning of a search for new, more clandestine and dangerous routes?
