{“title”:”Weaving a Silent Search: The Case of Arturo in Chiclana”}

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No luggage, no clothes. Isn’t there any goodbye? Without warning. The person known as Arturo is Artem Rachkovskyy, a Ukrainian man whose nickname in Chiclana is Artu. His mother, Clara, explains the Spanish version of the name. Artu, also called ‘Arturito,’ left his home in Chiclana de la Frontera in Cádiz. May 13, 2022. As Clara notes, that number still scares her: “13… is a number I’m really afraid of anyway. My son disappeared on that fateful day, and I don’t know what happened.” [Source: CASO ABIERTO]

After months without a sign, Clara turns to CASO ABIERTO, the incident and investigation portal run by Prensa Ibérica. Days pass and she keeps moving, keeping busy to mask the ache: “I work hard, I’d rather be busy…,” she says. The relationship with Arturo was close, and the mother clings to that memory: “We were very connected. I don’t know what to think anymore.” Clara has lived for a long time with her son missing, his absence unannounced. The search for him has stretched since that day in May. [Source: CASO ABIERTO]

Artu in a photo he gave to CASO Abierto remains a symbol of the unresolved case. OPEN STATE

“We’ll meet at six o’clock”

Clara recalls the day vividly. She was headed to work when Arturo, then in his room, would not have predicted that farewell. The routine was ordinary: wake up, go to the gym, face another typical day. There were no signs that the goodbye would be final. Arturo had been going through changes after a breakup and was not feeling well, but the thought of disappearing never crossed his mind. Exercise offered relief, filling his days. Clara, a constant pillar, encouraged him to keep moving forward. “Artu has faced hardships, but he is strong and has fought through everything.” [Source: CASO ABIERTO]

Before leaving, Arturo’s aunt from Ukraine had arrived in Spain to care for an elder, and she anticipated Arturo would be home around six to pick him up at the bus station. He nodded in agreement, but did not appear. The mother began calling at six in the evening; the phone remained off. Clara collected her sister-in-law from the bus stop, but Arturo was not there. The remaining belongings suggested his prior presence, yet his disappearance left a calm, almost unsettling stillness. [Source: CASO ABIERTO]

“The last message Artu wrote is from Portugal,” Clara reveals. Restlessness sits atop a weary calm as she searches for explanations. Perhaps he had gone out with a friend or found a new job, something he had recently started doing in repairs as a bricklayer. Online activity showed a post at 10 p.m. that carried themes of strength and rebirth. At 21:00, a call from Arturo reassured his mother: “I won’t be around for a few days, don’t worry. I love you, mom.” A day, then a week passed, and the absence grew heavier. Clara’s worry intensified as the months wore on. [Source: CASO ABIERTO]

A police report later listed Artem Rachkovskyy, 33, from Chiclana de la Frontera, Cadiz. A slim figure with green eyes and brown hair, dressed in black athletic pants, a green T-shirt, a hat, and white Nike sneakers. The investigation opened with no clues; authorities noted a lack of signals and no contact from the missing man. [Source: CASO ABIERTO]

Call forwarding: still active

The lines remained unanswered. Arturo’s phone was almost always offline, and messages went unheard. The shared phone plan with Clara showed new activity on a different line, but the new number returned a voice message whenever called. The last Portugal-based message remains a focal point of the case. [Source: CASO ABIERTO]

‘In prison’, ‘they killed’

The search gained momentum with posters and public warnings. Rumors circulated in the close-knit town of Chiclana, shaping impossible scenarios that confused and haunted the family. Claims of drugs, crime, or even a drowning circulated, complicating a search already painful for a mother who feared every possibility. The National Police contacted Portuguese counterparts; there was no record Arturo had been in a prison or police station in Portugal or in Morocco. Authorities ruled out enforced disappearance and signs of foul play. The prevailing hypothesis remained voluntary departure, with Clara hoping for his safety and a future reunion, even as time stretched on. “We hope he is alive and well,” she says, “but there is surprise that there has been no word.” [Source: CASO ABIERTO]

Before she disappeared, she and her mother tried to collect medicines to send to her homeland, Ukraine, to help war victims.

Arturo came to Spain at nine and vanished at 33. Police continue to pursue leads, though the trail has grown cold. Investigators noted that Interpol was alerted. Clara wonders if a Portugal trip could explain a missing person’s movement and whether he would have carried something essential on such a journey. The daily routine has given way to waiting, a long, heavy wait. [Source: CASO ABIERTO]

Clara emphasizes Arturo’s work ethic. He took on roles as a bricklayer, a cake maker, and a carpenter, always finding something to do. He was nervous at times, but he did not stay idle for long. [Source: CASO ABIERTO]

One of Artu’s last social posts shows a quiet, open window to his world. For more than a year and a half, there was no contact, no responses on social networks, and no WhatsApp messages. Clara recounts asking again and again, “Where are you, son?” The family kept vigil while the networks remained dormant. In May, a new feature of Phoenix appeared in the public eye, bringing a visual reminder of the ongoing concern. In recent months, Clara and Artu’s relatives gathered medicines for Ukraine, underscoring the urgency and humanity of their lives. Clara reflects on Artu’s character: a good-hearted child who faced life with resilience. A photo shared in April carried the caption “Like at home, nowhere.” The family waits, hoping Arturo will be found. [Source: CASO ABIERTO]

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