“For two long years, she has endured real suffering. She waits for news, for a call that never comes. Anyone who claims to know something about him or that his captors have been found offers a spark of hope, but hope fades when the phone stays silent.” Toñi, the mother of Yurian Cabrera, has lived with this ache since May 2020 in the Canaries. “I know they tortured him, they killed him, and he disappeared”—her words linger, a quiet insistence that she has not left his memory for a moment.
On the night everything changed, Yurian was turning 35. He was at home in Las Palmas’ Isleta district, blowing out the candles, then took a walk. It was eight in the evening. He did not say where he was going or who he was with. He never returned.
“I’ll never forget May 12, 2020”, his mother recalls. “He didn’t like to celebrate his birthday, even though we sang to him. That was the last time Yurian was seen at home. He left behind what he was wearing, he had no cell phone or documents. They came for him, they killed him, and he disappeared.”
“Throws It Over The Bridge”
The urgent alarm faded after a few days. Yurian was taking medication and was undergoing treatment for substance use, with a reported 66 percent mental impairment. That afternoon Toñi told him to be careful about his actions. He grew briefly irked when she warned him, and it took time for her to recover from the shock. “I thought he’d calm down and recover his balance soon”, she says, but the worry did not fade.
Toñi searched relentlessly. She visited many places, asked around in his circles, and probed his networks. There was nothing that pointed to his whereabouts. A boy told her Yurian had been seen on May 20 in Jinámar, Las Palmas. She checked that lead, then filed a report when nothing could be confirmed.
“My son is not visible”, she told the police. A formal investigation began, and Toñi became part of the process, spreading his image and shouting his name. Someone who knew him eventually told her that Yurian had been taken, killed, and disappeared. That version was new to her ears, heard for the first time.
The police collected the information but treated it cautiously. The informant, who also had a disability, offered a more specific claim: Yurian had been thrown from a bridge in Silva, Las Palmas. The police searched the area but found nothing, and the inquiry stalled.
They tied their hands and feet
Alerts went out in every direction. Initially, the police did not rule out the possibility of a voluntary escape. “It felt strange; it should have been possible for him to contact me by then.” Yurian had access to medications, and his mother warned that he could obtain them whenever needed. “That’s impossible”, she insists, referring to her medical records as proof.
“He was brought on a boat in Tenerife for Tomás Gimeno, the murderer of Anna and Olivia, but nothing happened to my son”, the mother complains
Days passed without updates or progress. An anonymous message arrived with a chilling start: “Don’t say anything to the police.” The sender claimed to speak for those who cared about Yurian and provided details of the disappearance. The note described a troubling sequence of events, including alleged torture and killing, and suggested that Yurian was buried briefly before being cast overboard with weights to ensure he would not surface. His hands and feet were said to be bound.
The letter prompted a direct report to investigators. The author described a form of torture that Toñi cannot bear to repeat, and the claim prompted a renewed search, though no body or crime scene was found. Yurian Cabrera remained missing.
“This is a crime; he was tortured with premeditation. What happened to him is powerful”, his mother asserts. The investigation continues, but progress remains slow. “We know the names of those who did this, but proving it remains impossible”, she says. Police progress is scant, with no body found, and the authorities urge patience while she wrestles with the possibility that her son may never be recovered. “I can’t move forward because there is no body to mourn.”
Toñi often repeats a bitter refrain from those days: “I can’t because there is no body to bury.”
Yurian, the young man who went out to celebrate his birthday that afternoon, remains missing. A music lover who admired Real Madrid and UD Las Palmas, he enjoyed songs by Maná and Amaral. He loved deeply, and those who knew him describe a generous, kind-spirited person. Yet his absence has left a hollow place that time has not filled. “If only he had called from another island, even just once more, I would have believed he was still alive”, Toñi says, voice breaking with the weight of years that refuse to ease. The police response, the statements she has received, and the long passage of time push her toward the belief that her son is gone, even as she clings to a stubborn thread of hope.
Marta del Castillo, Yeremi Vargas
Toñi fights against the elements, begging for help. “My son was not thoroughly searched by dogs or across the sea. The case of Tomás Gimeno, the man accused in Tenerife of murdering Anna and Olivia, is brought up often—but nothing has helped my son. I need the police to keep digging. He used to experiment with drugs, yes, but he was human, and I’m a mother who deserves answers.”
Before the last photograph of her son, she offers a final plea: “We cannot let murderers walk free, as in Marta del Castillo and Yeremi Vargas. Something must be done now. Do something.”