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Zulima Buitrago |
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November 4, 1997
Dear Judge,
My name is Zulima Buitrago, and I was sentenced in your court in 1991. I was born in Cali Colombia, but I've lived in the United States since I was 4 years old, and am considered a U.S. citizen. Upon my arrest, I was living in Houston, Texas. I was charged and convicted for "Conspiracy to distribute cocaine", even though there were no drugs or money taken from me. I was a single mother trying to support my two children, Alberto who was 8, and Karina, aged 4, at the time of my arrest. My co-defendant's husband asked me if he could use my garage to fix his truck that he had just bought. It had a broken tail-light lens. I told him he could use my garage, then me and my children went to the movies. Unknowingly to me, he conducted a drug deal there in my garage. When he got into trouble with the law, he turned into an informant in order to receive a lower sentence because he was facing a life sentence. I was the ticket for his lower sentence. He told law enforcement agents that I was present at the meeting. (To receive a lower sentence under federal law, if a person can aid in the arrest of another person and obtain a conviction for the feds - then a reduced sentence is given to the "snitch".) I was the "snitch's" ticket for his lower sentence - he said I was present at the drug deal where supposedly 350 kilos of cocaine had been involved. Even though I never saw this cocaine, nor did the investigation reflect any money in my accounts - I was still held accountable under the conspiracy law.
You sentenced me to a 24 year sentence with a 5 year supervised release for my first conviction. I believe my nationality attributed to my lengthy prison sentence, plus the unfairness of the Sentencing Guidelines. Before my arrest, I was studying real estate and waiting for the permit in order to take my exam. My father was helping me out until I could get back on my feet. Now I have lost everything, just for loaning the use of my garage to someone who told me they were going to repair their truck. The hardest thing for me is being separated from my children and family. My sixty-two year old mother is keeping my children in Colombia. I have not spent a Christmas with them in 6 years. What tears my heart out is not getting to see them grow up . . . not being there when they need me . . . and when they ask me again at Christmas, "Mommy are you coming home this year?"
All I can say is, "Just trust in God."
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