The savannas of the Meta department, in the Colombian Orinoquía region, are known for their rivers, which are home to more than 700 species of fish. This abundance is recognized by the Sikuani indigenous people, ancient inhabitants of the gallery forests, long corridors of trees that grow along rivers and wetlands.
Santiago, an indigenous member of this community who asked that his real identity be protected for security reasons, recalls that the Muco River in the municipality of Puerto Gaitán was once teeming with fish: «We used to catch payara, pavón, bocona, guabina, and torito. Today there are no fish.“ Santiago blames the Aliar-Fazenda company for the deterioration: ”The manure damaged all those moricheras [wetlands] and streams where we used to fish.»
Aliar-Fazenda is a pioneer in growing soybeans and corn in the Orinoquía region to produce animal feed for pigs in mega farms. The company began operations in 2007, 300 kilometers from Bogotá, in Puerto Gaitán (Meta), and by 2018 had transformed 40,000 hectares of land into a pantry that fed 134,000 pigs. By 2025, it claims to have 880,000 pigs and to produce 100 million kilos of meat per year.
A river contaminated withEscherichia coli
There used to be some beautiful lagoons, and they are still there today, but no one bathes there anymore because the water is murky. The water no longer flows, says Santiago.
He also points out that since Aliar-Fazenda arrived, pollution has prevented people from enjoying the area, in addition to losing their subsistence economy by not being able to fish.
For this report, a sample was taken from the waters where Santiago used to drink and feed his animals to test for pollution.
The results showed severe contamination: 313,000 fecal coliform bacteria per 100 milliliters of water. The Colombian standard sets the maximum level of fecal coliforms at 200 for recreational use, but the Muco River exceeds the legal limit by more than 1,500 times, making it dangerous for irrigation or human contact.
Physical and chemical analysis shows that, even with treatment plants in place, the system is insufficient for the amount of fecal matter entering the Muco River. Joanna Zapata, environmental editor at El Turbión, explains that receiving more than 300,000 total coliforms in organic discharges causes gastrointestinal and dermatological diseases in nearby communities, especially among children. She warns of possible sedimentation due to the tons of feces that reach the lagoons every day, which can cause overflows.
Aliar-Fazenda refused to provide information on wastewater management and treatment plants requested for this report.
Morichales as landfills?
Waters of the Barrulia community contaminated by monocultures and the manure of thousands of pigs – Photo: Andrés Gómez
Santiago, who lives in the Sikuani reserve of Wacoyo, is not only a neighbor of Aliar-Fazenda, but has also worked for the pork company, and he affirms that there is no water treatment.
The worker there washes with water and that runs into a pipe, enters a septic tank […] From there, they take it out with a pump to spread it […] they don’t dump it on the lots, but in a mountainous area.
Raúl, another former worker, who also asked to keep his true identity confidential, does not know Santiago but agrees that he did not observe any treatment either.
Where they keep the pigs, there is a large space where the manure and urine can go, and when it is washed, it goes into a pond, then they send it through a pipe to some ‘earflaps’ that they make near a morichera.
The reports of spills coincide with the results of water contamination and the odors described by the inhabitants.
Santiago’s wife says she no longer collects water from the Muco River: she collects rainwater and buys water when it doesn’t rain.
We have constant headaches, colds, and sometimes it’s not even a cold, but more like a sneezing fit, something that doesn’t produce mucus or anything. […] And we say it’s because of that awful smell we smell.
The people of Wacoyo are not the only ones affected.
Barrulia, 29 kilometers from Wacoyo, is a Sikuani community displaced by Mennonite land grabbers that also suffered from vomiting, rashes, and diarrhea, to the point that Axel Gaitán Chipiaje, a minor, died on May 12, 2024. There are no public medical reports confirming the cause, but the community attributes the case to contamination. Aliar-Fazenda also had pig farms nearby, and for this reason Miguel, another indigenous person who asked to remain anonymous, displaced from Barrulia and a relative of the minor, blames the company for the death:
Where we were in Barrulia, more towards the east, there are about 20 sheds and that leaks [feces].
Raúl worked in the maintenance of the pig farms, but he is more shocked by the handling of the dead newborn pigs than by the pollution itself. “They made a hole where they throw dead pigs. It’s near a morichera. Thirty to fifty pigs die there every day [in only one mega farm]. And they don’t let anyone check when environmentalists and government officials come,” he denounces.
He adds that it is not only the small pigs that die:
The larger ones lived in crowded conditions and mistreated each other, biting each other. When they don’t have food, they kill each other. That’s why they get sick and die.
In the pork industry, it is common for 10 to 20% of newborns to die, and for those destined for fattening to die from respiratory diseases, but the workers’ allegations must be corroborated, as dumping carcasses without proper composting or treating fecal matter goes from animal abuse to environmental crime.
For this report, a right to petition was sent to the Ministry of the Environment, but this entity forwarded the questions to the public entity responsible for protecting and managing natural resources in Meta: Cormacarena, clarifying that it does not have the authority to monitor, control, or sanction dumping, which is the responsibility of regional autonomous corporations.
Cormacarena did not respond to the request for copies, and it is noteworthy that its geoportal does not contain any evidence of control or monitoring of the bodies of water adjacent to Aliar-Fazenda.
Aliar-Fazenda is growing, life in Meta is fading
Deserts of soybean, corn, and bean crops with water channels have replaced the savanna forests — Photo: Andrés Gómez
In 2025, Forbes magazine stated that thanks to the company, Meta is a powerhouse: “Puerto Gaitán, the epicenter of this revolution, accounts for the largest production of corn and soybeans in the country. In 2024 alone, the high plains planted 87% of Colombia’s soybeans and 47% of its technified yellow corn.”
This growth is linked to the dispossession and environmental crimes that condemn the Sikuani people. After surviving the indigenous hunt from 1930 to 1970, when settlers “killed, dismembered, and poisoned the indigenous people,” paramilitary commander Víctor Carranza arrived and, beginning in 1978, began to violently seize thousands of hectares of their territories. Of those lands, María Blanca Carranza, the paramilitary’s first cousin and wife, sold the 16,000 hectares with which Aliar-Fazenda began.
Today, the company owns 50,000 hectares, lands where Sikuani indigenous people no longer live, nor are honey bears, opossums, foxes, or birds such as road ducks or royal turpials seen.
“Since Aliar and the Mennonites appeared, the animals have gone to Vichada,” said Camilo, another person who asked to remain anonymous, in the Ibitsulibo reserve, referring to the migratory birds that should be crossing the sky in September.
Apparently, the disappearance of birds and mammals is due to the destruction of the savanna. Mechanized monoculture flattens forests, including morichales, which exacerbates the threat to the 491 endangered species of fauna and flora in the Orinoquía, 23% of the national total. But the destruction of morichales and floodplains has not only affected fauna and flora, it also exacerbates global warming.
In the gallery forests of the Orinoquía, wetlands that do not dry out “have enormous potential to help or hinder global efforts to address climate change,” says Scott Winton, a professor at UC Santa Cruz, who discovered that “the average carbon density per area in peatlands is four to ten times greater than in the Amazon rainforest.”
Winton and his team found peat in 51 of the more than 100 wetlands they visited, indicating that several of the morichales and floodplains destroyed by Aliar-Fazenda may have released the carbon they stored and are no longer capturing it.
Aliar-Fazenda’s expansion not only transformed the savannas into soybean and corn deserts, it also broke the ancestral balance between the Sikuani and their territory. Where once there were savannas and morichales with birds, today there are nearly 900 000 mistreated pigs, polluted waters, the smell of manure, and sick communities, situations that prolong the old war against the very existence of the Sikuani people in their forests.
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* This story is part of an investigation by El Turbión, carried out with the support of Global Exchange and Brighter Green’s Animals and Biodiversity Reporting Fund, and is part of a series that documents how violence, land concentration, and ecocide threaten the physical and cultural survival of the Sikuani people.
In recognition of El Turbión’s commitment to integrity and excellence in journalism, the outlet has obtained the Certification of the Journalism Trust Initiative, promoted by Reporters Without Borders under the international standard CEN CWA 17493:2019.
