Isn’t it heartbreaking to consider the stories etched into the very fabric of this city? This is the Franca Jarach Plaque a memorial to a life tragically cut short. We pause here to remember Franca Jarach.
Franca Jarach was more than just a name. She was a bright light extinguished too soon. Franca was a talented student a poet a musician and an artist. She was known for her creativity. She excelled academically. Franca was the gold medalist and flag bearer of the Colegio Nacional de Buenos Aires.
But Franca Jarach was also a militant activist. She fought for her beliefs. She was involved with the UES and JTP. Franca became a delegate of the student center. Later, she served as a delegate of the JTP of the graphics union.
In 1976, at the young age of eighteen Franca Jarach was kidnapped. A death flight took her. The ESMA a notorious detention center was her prison. Imagine her last thoughts. A poem written in her mind during torture.
Franca Jarach wondered how to grow from the remains of bones. Bones that seek other bones. Bones howling for their names. In anonymous massive graves.
She thought of the mothers with crickets in their feet and hands. What about their steps and caresses? What about the mouths of those born to these mothers? Mothers with gags.
Franca Jarach questioned the fate of the children. Orphans of murdered mothers. Children of impossible mothers. Mothers of a future redeemed homeland. A homeland she would not see. Nor would she have children.
She thought of her grandfather’s blinded eyes. Eyes that saw swastikas in Autzwichtz. Eyes that now see swastikas again. On damp walls of excrement and blood.
Franca Jarach felt the faith could not move this mountain. This mountain of pain and dispossession. Torn clothes with skin. Shattered glasses with heads. Gunshots. Slippers with severed feet. Feet of those who tried to escape.
Franca Jarach was running on broken glass. The broken glass of the word comrade. Her heart was torn from her. A pearl set in the collective destiny. Fibers of living flesh palpitated. Seeking their diadem.
Franca Jarach was a dying star fading light years away. Traveling erratically through the genocidal constellation. With the last of her humanity. To leave her last heartbeat.
She wished to leave her last heartbeat at the school. At the Colegio de la Patria. To the beat of the drums. Of that spring of Aragon. In the central cloister.
Franca Jarach defended the ideals of glorious students. She proudly carried the flag. A flag that Belgrano entrusted to them. With heroic disobedience.
Franca Jarach made equality her dogma. She followed the firm steps of Moreno. The first of a long list of patriots. Patriots thrown into the sea.
In oceanic rituals sacrifices are incessant. Gallows with wings take off from these dungeons. So much water is needed to put out so much fire.
Was Franca Jarach just a burning fish? In the shipwreck of all that was dreamed? Or an anchor with history and a name? Amid the Luciferian waves of oblivion?
Profaned Justice had fallen beside her. Without scales without sword without blindfold. And drowned with her.
The Franca Jarach Plaque stands as a stark reminder of the horrors of the dictatorship. It is a testament to the courage and ideals of a young woman. A woman who even in her darkest hour clung to hope. A hope for a better future.
Vera Vigevani de Jarach, Franca’s mother, became a founding member of Mothers of Plaza de Mayo. She relentlessly searched for her daughter. Vera transformed into a leading figure in the fight for human rights.
Let us honor Franca’s memory by continuing to fight for justice. Let’s fight for truth and never forget the lessons of the past. The Franca Jarach Plaque is a place of remembrance a place of reflection. It is a place to ensure that Franca’s story and the stories of all those disappeared are never forgotten.