The damned normality in Sinaloa

It’s Monday, near the end of June. Juan Ignacio wakes up and the first thing he does is grab his phone, check his notifications, and then go to WhatsApp. But before he can answer the pending message his mother left, he goes to the Communities section. He’s in five different ones: the one from his favorite real-time news site, the one from the Ministry of Public Security, and three others that emerged in September as citizen chat groups, although after nine months, he knows they’re nothing more than propaganda for criminal groups. That’s why he’s in three different ones: the one he knows is from Los Chapitos because they have a pizza as a logo; another one that he thinks is from Los Mayitos because they feature a sombrero; and one more that, he thinks, could be somewhere in between, although it’s the fourth or fifth one after all this time, since the others have been shut down by their administrators after receiving threats.

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