The New Reality of Life in Culiacán: A City Under Siege

A City on Edge: The Daily Struggle for Safety

Life in Culiacán, the capital of Mexico’s Sinaloa state, has become a daily battle for survival. Once a city of relative calm under the dominance of the Sinaloa drug cartel, Culiacán has descended into chaos over the past six months. A devastating power struggle within the cartel has turned its streets into battlegrounds, forcing residents to adapt to a new and dangerous reality. For many, like the principal of a local elementary school, the day begins before dawn, checking messages for reports of shootouts or violence before deciding whether it’s safe for students to attend classes. This is just one of the many new routines that have become normalized in a city where the sound of gunfire and the sight of cartel checkpoints are now part of everyday life. Children scurry for cover at the slightest loud noise, and families live in constant fear of being caught in the crossfire. The once-thriving city, home to over a million people, now feels like a war zone.

The violence has disrupted every aspect of life in Culiacán. Funeral processions are rushed, with limited hours for burials. Bands that once played at lively parties now perform at street corners for spare change. The city’s residents live on edge, unsure of what each day might bring. For those on the shifting front lines of the cartel war, the fear of death is ever-present. The unwritten agreement that once protected civilians from cartel violence has been shattered, leaving innocent people vulnerable to kidnappings, carjackings, and random attacks. Since September, government data shows over 900 killings, a grim reminder of the escalating conflict.

A Fractured City: The Power Struggle Within the Sinaloa Cartel

The current wave of violence in Culiacán began in September, following a dramatic event involving Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada, the Sinaloa cartel’s oldest and most cunning leader. According to Zambada, he was kidnapped by one of the sons of the late Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán, a former leader of the cartel, and taken to the U.S., where both were arrested. This incident ignited a fierce power struggle between the two main factions of the cartel: one loyal to Zambada’s “Mayos” and the other aligned with Guzmán’s “Chapos.” The resulting violence has split the city, with residents drawing stark lines between the two groups.

The divide is so clear that one resident of Costa Rica, a small town south of Culiacán, could point to the horizon and identify which side belongs to which faction. Like many others, he spoke anonymously, fearing retaliation for speaking out. His community has seen firsthand the brutality of the conflict, with gunmen dumping bodies in the streets and people disappearing without a trace. The disappearance of Julio Héctor Carrillo, a 34-year-old man who vanished after leaving his relative’s house in late January, is just one example of the terrifying reality faced by residents. His family, too afraid to post flyers, turned to social media for help, and a search collective later found a body undergoing DNA testing to confirm if it is Carrillo.

The Human Toll: Disappearances and Fear

The sheer number of disappearances in Culiacán has reached unprecedented levels. Miguel Calderón of the State Public Security Council, a citizen-led organization, notes that in the last 30 to 40 years of recorded crime statistics, there has never been such a high number of missing persons. Some of the disappeared are picked up, interrogated, and released, but others are never seen again. Their photos end up on the wall of faces at Culiacán’s cathedral, a heartbreaking reminder of the crisis. For those who remain, fear has become a constant companion. A 38-year-old small business owner, who now imposes strict safety protocols on his family, summed up the sentiment: “We’re very tired, very tired of being among the bullets.”

Children are not spared from the trauma. The owner’s 7-year-old daughter begins each day with a haunting question: “Dad, am I going to be able to go to school today? Did you already check (Facebook)?” Her innocence is pierced by the harsh reality of living in a war zone. The business owner’s 18-year-old son is no longer allowed to cycle, and his movements are tracked in real time via his cell phone. These measures are a desperate attempt to protect him from the dangers that lurk around every corner.

A Shift in Strategy: The Role of U.S. Pressure

The Mexican government’s response to the violence in Culiacán has shifted dramatically in recent weeks, with many residents attributing the change to pressure from U.S. President Donald Trump. When the violence first erupted, President Andrés Manuel López Obrador, who has historically downplayed cartel violence, was in office. His administration, along with Sinaloa’s governor, Rubén Rocha, seemed reluctant to confront the cartels directly. Rocha’s spokesman, Feliciano Castro, even blamed the U.S. for triggering the violence by arresting Zambada.

But the political landscape changed with Trump’s election victory. Trump has made combating illegal immigration and drug trafficking central to his agenda, even threatening to impose 25% tariffs on Mexican goods. Mexico’s new president, Claudia Sheinbaum, appears more willing to take on the cartels, particularly the Sinaloa cartel, which has become a major player in the lucrative fentanyl trade. The number of security operations and arrests in Sinaloa has surged, with federal authorities now directly overseeing all security actions. Veteran journalist Ismael Bojórquez, who covers organized crime in Sinaloa, described the recent efforts as “overwhelming and daily operations against the cartels,” a stark contrast to López Obrador’s hands-off approach.

Hope Amid the Chaos: A Possible Turning Point

Despite the ongoing violence, some residents of Culiacán see a glimmer of hope. The increased pressure from the U.S. and the Mexican government’s tougher stance on the cartels have weakened both factions of the Sinaloa cartel. Authorities have seized massive quantities of fentanyl, dismantled drug labs, and removed hundreds of cartel surveillance cameras. These actions, while not yet decisive, have shown that the government is capable of challenging the cartels’ grip on the city.

Residents are also beginning to question their long-held perception of the cartel as protectors or heroes. For decades, the cartel’s total control over Culiacán created a false sense of safety, but the recent violence has exposed the illusion. Miguel Calderón believes that the current crisis could mark a turning point, breaking the complicity between citizens and the cartel. “The people are full of a sense of collective anguish, anxiety, and social anger,” he said, hoping that this shared suffering might unite the community and inspire change.

As the city struggles to find its footing amid the chaos, the resilience of its residents offers a beacon of hope. From the principal who decides whether to open his school each day to the families who impose their own safety protocols, the people of Culiacán are finding ways to cope with the uncertainty. They know the road ahead will be long and difficult, but they hold onto the hope that one day, their city will be free from the grip of violence and fear.