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A team of researchers from the National Institute of Colonization and Agrarian Reform (Incra) has been threatened in recent days by land grabbers in a large rural area (approximately 1,500 hectares), called Anti de Baixo, in the city of Santo Antônio do Discoberto (GO). 
These professionals assess whether the territory can be defined as quilombola remnant. For the descendants, the place is the “anti -black” community.
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“The stage of the anthropological study (currently in progress) has been marked by strong threats against Incra-DF servers and surroundings,” the agency said in a document sent to Brazil agency.
Incra does not disclose the names of the authors of the threats and how they proceed. Asked, the agency merely wrote that they would depart “of people and groups, including politicians, who have interests in these lands.”
To ensure the safety of the researchers, Incra reported that it sought support from the “institutions of the Justice System and Security Forces to monitor the investigative process through the National Chamber of Agrarian Conciliation”.
Asked about Incra’s complaint, the Goiás State Military Police reported that it acts preventively and ostensible. “Regarding the mentioned fact, it has not received any formal request, but is available to any interested party,” he said. The Secretariat of Public Security did not answer the questions of the report.
For researchers, everything can be important. Tracks, clues, reminiscences, documents, registration, oral information and even cemetery cross. The first step towards recognition as quilombola territory was taken by the community by requesting self -knowledge by the Palmares Cultural Foundation.
Community leadership in Santo Antônio do Discoberto, Professor Railda Oliveira witnesses that the Incra team needed support from the Federal Police to do material collection work. “People were really threatened in the anti community.”
Judicial conflict
The Palmares Foundation document was published on August 1st. Two days earlier, a decision signed by Judge Ailime Virginia Martins determined the eviction of 32 community properties.
The judicial dispute in the region began in the 1940s. The resident Francisco Apolinário Viana asked the land to be regularized in his name. In 1985, three more people (Luiz Soares de Araújo, Raul Alves de Andrade Coelho and Maria Paulina Boss) also went to court. Community leaders claim that the documents would be false. Maria Paulina was the wife of Emival Caiado. With this argument, the descendants of this family asked for possession.
The community complained that the decision did not take into account the request to refer the case to the Federal Court by ignoring the protocol made for the Palmares Foundation. On August 5, Minister Edson Fachin of the Federal Supreme Court had decided to suspend the order of vacancy. The case became the Federal Justice.
But at least 10 houses were destroyed by men in tractors at the service of beneficiaries of the decision. Community members pointed out that a farmer named Murilo Caiado presented himself as the owner of the area and would have given orders to take possession of the properties. The businessman was not located by the report.
Another beneficiary would be his brother, Judge Breno Caiado. THE Brazil agency Nor was it able to contact the magistrate.
They are cousins of the current governor of Goiás, Ronaldo Caiado. Through the communication advisory, the government states that Caiado is not part of the case and that there is no comment on court decision.
Lawyer Francisco Porfírio, 56, who has lived in the region since 2005 and is president of the residents’ association, said the overthrow was traumatic. “It remains to go to court to be compensated,” he said while taking furniture in a pickup truck to a family member.
Quilombolas
The STF’s decision represented a relief to the 58 -year -old driver Jair da Silva Moreira, one of the local quilombola leaders. He is born and raised in the same house, built over 60 years ago, and was a triz to be overthrown in the first week of August. “My family and I have been sleepless. There is no way to be calm. My grandfather Saturnino (already deceased) has always received threats for being quilombola and live here.”
Bathing in Inês stream, enjoying the view of the liduvine hill, running between the sugarcane fields, leathering in the shadow of the grandfather’s hose planted. Each bass -old corner has special meanings for his family – about 400 people.
“We are all unhappy and then a little more relieved. But there are still armed people walking through our community that is our ancestors.” Near house is the cemetery where grandparents and great -grandparents are buried.
Grandfather Saturnino, according to the grandson, had already been threatened by local farmers, according to Jair. “My grandfather already said they would create fake documents to take our land. That was in 1995,” he recalls. This time, in 2025, he saw people again circulating armed and taking pictures of their houses. “The day they would overthrow my house, a man stood at the door and the other was inside,” he said. A longing mark is a hose that he saw his grandfather planting for 50 years.
His cousin, 48 -year -old farmer Gilson Pereira, says the home garden is life for them. “Who tries to get us out of here, want to kill us. I don’t know how to do anything else without planting to live and sell at the city fair.”
In the back of the house are corn, bean, banana and cane plantations. Another family specialty is the production and sale of rapadura. “The candy is a symbol of our resistance as well. It’s our root. We have so much history of our ancestors, and we saw that we were going to lose everything from one minute to the next,” says Gilson.
When he was threatened, the farmer remembered his father Spirit Pereira, who died for over six years, who taught him to plant sugarcane and to make the rapadura. He also thought of two children, an adult, lawyer, and a child. Another quilombola rural producer, Geralda da Silva, 56, witnesses that everyone in the community is still scared. “Even children who didn’t understand what was happening. They cried and now they are quieter.”
For another rural producer, Maria Aparecida da Silva, 58, who says she feels happiness in identifying himself as quilombola, keeping the floor where she was born means keeping the story alive for eight children. “We hear that these farmers may be interested in our area because it is rare land, rich in ores. But our family just wants to plant.”
In front of the Antinha stream, where the elders got used to cooling, men and women in the region were thrilled. “These waters are clean. We can drink. Our children and grandchildren will live here too. We are still very afraid, but now some hope,” says Jair Moreira.
