A presidential frontrunner gunned down in the capital, a major city rattled by rebel pipe bombs, and vast swathes of territory deemed too dangerous for campaigning: Colombia’s road to the 2026 elections is being paved with blood.

According to the Electoral Observation Mission, at least 61 political leaders have been killed ahead of legislative and presidential polls, reviving memories of the country’s darkest democratic chapters. Observers say candidates now face threats in about a third of Colombia’s municipalities, underscoring how fragile the state’s authority remains outside major urban centers.

Nowhere is that fragility more visible than in the southwestern department of Cauca. Here, an armored silver SUV snakes along a mountain track under the watchful eyes of rifle‑toting guerrillas. Inside sits Esneyder Gomez, a 46‑year‑old Indigenous Nasa candidate seeking a seat in Congress, fully aware that every bend in the road could be an ambush.

Gomez has lived under threat for a decade. Months ago, his vehicle was riddled with bullets after a political event. Nearby, Indigenous legislator Aida Quilcue was recently kidnapped and released only after frantic negotiations. Yet Gomez continues trudging from village to village along muddy roads, appealing to communities that have long felt abandoned by Bogotá.

The son of a Nasa guerrilla and an Afro‑Colombian police officer, Gomez moves with a protection detail unlike any other: some 30 young Indigenous Guards, many barely out of their teens and armed only with ceremonial batons. Their strategy is dialogue, not firepower, a stark contrast to the heavily armed dissident factions that dominate the region.

“The risk is constant,” Gomez says, arguing that the so‑called post‑conflict era has proved “harsher than the conflict itself.” While the 2016 peace accord led the main FARC faction to disarm, powerful splinter groups stayed in the field, tightening their grip on lucrative cocaine routes.

UN data show cocaine exports exceeding 1,700 tonnes, a record high. In Cauca’s mist‑shrouded mountains, emerald coca fields climb the slopes, feeding an economy that bankrolls warlords like Nestor Gregorio Vera Fernández, known as Ivan Mordisco, accused of crimes against humanity and the ethnocide of the Nasa people.

Posters along the road boast of “61 years of struggle” as armed rebels man checkpoints and warn off cameras. For local leaders such as Luz Dary Muñoz, the stakes of the coming vote are existential. “We have been a forgotten territory,” she says. “This election will show whether our lives matter to the rest of Colombia.”