Never to Be Forgotten—On the Passing of Amanda Aguilar

Muchos han oído estos gritos del Cuá
gemidos de la Patria como de parto . . .
Ernesto Cardenal, “Las campesinas del Cuá”

Voy a hablarles, compañeros,
de las mujeres del Cuá,
que bajaron de los cerros,
por orden del general.
De la María Venancia
y de la Amanda Aguilar,
dos hijas de las montañas
que no quisieron hablar.
Carlos Mejía Godoy, “Las mujeres del Cuá”

If you would not be forgotten as soon as you are dead, either write something worth reading or do things worth writing.
Benjamin Franklin


Her heroism, as well as her sacrifices, inspired “Las campesinas del Cuá,”one of Ernesto Cardenal’s best loved poems. In turn, these verses, by Nicaragua’s most famous living poet, moved Carlos Mejía Godoy—the country’s best known composer—to write “Las mujeres del Cuá,” a heart wrenching song from the era when the Nicaraguan people banded together to overthrow a nearly fifty-year old dynasty.

Petrona Hernández—a campesina from the mountains of Matagalpa who adopted “Amanda Aguilar” as her revolutionary code-name—died this past Valentine’s Day, at the age of 116. Along with her mother, María Venancia Aguilar, Amanda joined Augusto César Sandino’s struggle against the US Marines, back in the 1930s. Both women worked as cooks in the guerrillero’s headquarters, in the mountains of Jinotega.

After Sandino was assassinated, Amanda and her mother left Jinotega and returned to their hometown of El Bijagüe Norte, in the highlands of Matagalpa. And for the next three decades Amanda waited patiently for an opportunity to join the struggle against the Somoza regime—which she considered an extension of the Marine occupation.

In the early 1960s, Amanda didn’t balk when members of a newly formed revolutionary group calling itself the Frente Sandinista de Liberación Nacional (FSLN) asked her to join them in bringing down the Somozas. At a time when Nicaraguans believed that anyone who took a stand against the US-supported dictatorship was either insane or had a death wish, Amanda Aguilar and her mother fed, gave refuge, and acted as messengers for the first Sandinistas, including Carlos Fonseca Amador, founder of the movement. What’s more, Amanda helped organize a campesino network that supported the fledgling guerrilla effort by way of providing reconnaissance and food supplies.

Her commitment to the Sandinista cause, though, came with a heavy price tag. In 1968, the Guardia Nacional—which was essentially Somoza’s personal army—embarked on a military offensive designed to wipe the FSLN off the face of the earth. In the mountains of Matagalpa, the soldiers encircled the revolutionaries and their collaborators. Although Amanda and the other women of the network initially managed to elude the noose, they were soon captured and taken to a Guardia Nacional command center in the village of El Cuá. There, Amanda and her mother, now 90 years old, were beaten and tortured. Amanda’s two daughters, who had also been captured, were repeatedly raped. Two of her brothers were killed, one of them thrown from a helicopter. Yet in spite of torture, the irreparable losses, and the constant death threats, not one of the women uttered a word about the Sandinistas’ support network.

After being held for six months, the women were released and placed under surveillance. But their sacrifices did not end there. In 1975, Amanda lost a son, Jacinto Hernández, who joined the Sandinistas and had risen to the rank of Comandante, the first campesino to do so.

After the Sandinista triumph, in July of 1979, the revolutionary government awarded Amanda with a large plot of farmland, far from El Bijagüe Norte. Friends say that she traveled there, took one look at the place, then turned around and said, “It’s too far away. I’m going back home.” Amanda never second-guessed her decision.

She lived the remainder of her life quietly, in her beloved town of El Bijagüe Norte, never asking anyone for anything.

Amanda Aguilar exemplifies what was—ideologically, at least—most noble and pure about the Sandinista movement. She lived a life of courage and commitment to others. But neither the trappings of power nor the temptation to seek personal gain held sway over her. She simply wanted to make Nicaragua a better, more just nation. Amanda Aguilar's nobility and sacrifice deserves to stand the test of time. She deserves never to be forgotten.