Without a doubt Narcisa’s mother, doña Nasly Trelles—better known as Lucha—would have loved to have a circle of friends to lean on when she arrived in Quibdó. It was 2004, and she carried, on her own, four children under her wing—soon to be five. It wouldn’t just have been comforting; it would have helped her. She would have had someone to talk to about what she was going through: the hardships in that first house they moved into, the reasons why she had to leave her home in Boca de Bebará, in the Medio Atrato, about an hour away by speedboat from Quibdó, and how she felt in the city—a new place so hostile and so different from the familiar world of her rivers and forest, and about how difficult it was to trade fishing for street vending. And so, newly arrived in their new world, they survived by selling empanadas, cucas, and vikingos—Quibdó-style frozen treats.

Memories from that time, when she was not yet ten years old, return constantly to Narcisa’s mind. They visit her while she crochets, but instead of letting them dim her spirit, she has learned to turn them into fuel. That is why she created the “Afternoons of Weavers”, to offer a space to the many women—single mothers among them—who, like doña Lucha, have arrived in the northern neighborhoods of Quibdó, displaced by violence. In fact, the first time she called them together, in 2024, she could hardly believe the response: more than fifty women showed up. They found in the group a place to clear their minds, to rest, and to devote time to themselves—something that often falls by the wayside when the main concern is simply staying afloat.

But learning to crochet—embracing it as a tool that would later allow her to help others—was not easy for Narcisa. She had to plead again and again with her mother, a rural woman who came home exhausted each night, to give up the little free time she had and teach her. “Mom, teach me, please,” eight-year-old Narcisa would insist over and over, until finally doña Lucha gave in. Years later, the roles would reverse: it would be her mother begging her to stop crocheting and do something else, and Narcisa replying, “Mom, you’ll see—we’re going to make a living from this. Trust me.”

If her mother urged her to stop, it was because her daughter had become obsessed. Crochet became her only escape. She worked stitch after stitch to quiet the anxiety of studying Industrial Engineering, working, and selling goods on the street—all at once. Her dedication ran so deep that when she didn’t have money to buy more thread, she would unravel pieces her mother had made and crochet them again. There was something soothing in making one knot after another with the hook, like laying down stones along the path of Alice in Wonderland—something that connected deeply with her heart and her hands. To her mother, it was nothing more than a waste of time. But Narcisa had a hunch. And in the end, it proved her right: life was quietly placing her exactly where she needed to be.

And yes—it was worth it. She refined her craft enough to create whatever she imagined, bringing to life the pieces of her brand. She realized she could devote herself to what she loved and gradually shape an identity nourished by conversations with others and by the warmth of people’s response. That is how she began turning maps of Chocó into earrings, and creating garments inspired by the landscapes of her beloved region—its rivers, its sunsets—all made in crochet using cotton and synthetic threads.

Today, what was once her obsession—and her remedy—has become a family-run business that, though still young, is steadily growing with a strength rooted in love for the craft. And what joy it brings: not only has Narcisa taught her younger sisters to crochet, she has also been able to provide work for her mother and share with other women the healing power of weaving. As her brand continues to grow, may the Afternoons of Weavers never fade—those gatherings to talk, laugh, vent, and unwind, all while some women learn to crochet under Narcisa’s guidance and others finish their own projects. Together, finding, if only for a while, a little peace.