TLDR: Colombian singer Yeison Jiménez died in a plane crash on January 10, 2026, in Paipa, Colombia. The 34-year-old star and five others were killed when their Piper Navajo aircraft failed to gain altitude after takeoff and crashed into a field, bursting into flames.
What makes this tragedy even more haunting is that just two weeks before, Jiménez appeared on a TV show revealing he had dreamed three times about dying in a plane crash. Hours before boarding the fatal flight, he posted what now reads like a final farewell on Instagram.
The crash is under investigation, but witnesses say the plane appeared to struggle during takeoff from the high-altitude airport.
On Saturday afternoon, January 10, 2026, one of Colombia’s biggest music stars died in a plane crash that he had literally predicted weeks earlier. Yeison Jiménez, a 34-year-old singer who had risen from selling avocados in a Bogotá market to filling stadiums across Latin America, was killed along with five members of his team when their small plane went down moments after takeoff.
The crash itself is tragic enough. But what’s making this story impossible for fans to process is that Jiménez saw it coming.
He dreamed about dying in a plane crash three separate times. He talked about those dreams on national TV just two weeks before the accident.
And hours before boarding that final flight, he posted a message to Instagram that now reads like a goodbye.
Here’s what happened, the eerie premonitions that preceded it, and the remarkable life of the man Colombia is now mourning.
The Crash Happened Minutes After Takeoff
Yeison Jiménez was traveling from Paipa to Medellín on Saturday afternoon. He had just performed in the Boyacá region and was heading to a scheduled concert in Marinilla, Antioquia that evening. He was using private aviation to make the trip, which is common for artists with tight schedules in Colombia.
The plane was a Piper PA-31-325 Navajo, a twin-engine aircraft registered in the United States as N325FA. It was built in 1982, making it 44 years old, though age alone doesn’t mean an aircraft is unsafe if properly maintained. The plane departed from Juan José Rondón Airport in Paipa sometime between 3:00 and 4:00 PM local time.
Paipa’s airport sits at about 8,200 feet above sea level. That’s really high, and it creates serious challenges for planes. The air is thinner, which means engines produce less power and wings generate less lift. Planes need more speed to take off and struggle more to climb.
Video footage that circulated on social media shows the plane during takeoff. Witnesses immediately noticed something was wrong. The aircraft appeared to be “struggling” to gain altitude. In a normal takeoff, a plane should lift off and establish a clear climb well before the end of the runway. This one didn’t.
The plane failed to gain significant height. It reached the end of the runway without achieving a safe climb. Then it descended into a field in an area called “La Romita,” located between the towns of Paipa and Duitama. Upon impact, the aircraft burst into flames.
The fire was intense and immediate, suggesting the plane had a full fuel load (which makes sense for a flight to Medellín). The National Police, airport rescue teams, and local emergency services responded quickly, but the fire was too severe. Colonel Álvaro Bello from Civil Aeronautics confirmed shortly after that there were no survivors.
All six people on board died. Yeison Jiménez, pilot Hernando Torres, co-pilot Juan Manuel Rodríguez, manager Jefferson Osorio, personal assistant Oscar Marín, and photographer Weisman Mora.
He Dreamed About This Three Times
Here’s where this gets absolutely chilling. Two weeks before the crash, Yeison Jiménez appeared on a Colombian TV show called Se Dice de Mí (a biographical documentary program). During the interview, he revealed something that has now become impossible to ignore.
He had dreamed about dying in a plane crash. Not once. Three separate times.
In the dream, he would warn the pilot that something was wrong with the plane. The pilot would reassure him, saying “Boss, it’s a good thing you told me because something failed, but I already solved it. Get on.” Then the plane would crash, and Jiménez would see news coverage of his own death on television.
He told the interviewer, “I dreamed that we had killed each other, and that we were on the news. God gave me three signals and I didn’t understand them.”
The technical details in his dreams are even more disturbing. He described seeing instruments showing “Bad Left” or “Bad Right” (indicating engine problems). He remembered a cameraman pointing out water or fluid leaking from an engine. These aren’t vague nightmares. These are specific, mechanical failures.
Experts investigating the crash are now looking at the possibility of engine failure during takeoff. Witnesses said the plane was struggling. If one of the twin engines failed at that critical moment, especially at high altitude with thin air, the plane would have been in serious trouble.
The Dreams Were Based on a Real Scare
Jiménez wasn’t just having random anxiety dreams. Months before the crash, he had survived a terrifying in-flight emergency departing from Medellín.
He was on a plane that experienced engine trouble right after takeoff. He described hearing “puff, puff” sounds from the engine. The pilot had to fly at extremely low altitude, weaving between buildings, to execute an emergency landing back at the airport.
This incident happened just 10 days before the birth of his son. The fear of dying and leaving his children without a father hit him hard. He later revealed he had sought therapy for depression and anxiety related to travel. The recurring dreams about plane crashes were likely his mind processing that trauma.
Psychologists would probably call this PTSD, not premonition. But when someone dreams about the exact way they’re going to die, and then it happens, people aren’t thinking about psychology. They’re thinking about fate.
His Final Instagram Post Feels Like a Goodbye
On the day of the crash, hours before boarding the plane, Jiménez posted a video to Instagram. The caption read: “Recuerden… si la carreta suena es porque va vacía.”
In English, that translates to “Remember… if the cart makes noise, it’s because it’s empty.” It’s a traditional Colombian saying about humility. The idea is that people who make the most noise often have the least substance.
But in the context of what happened hours later, fans have read it differently. The “cart” that makes noise versus the silence of death. The cart that carried him from the markets of Bogotá to the biggest stages in Latin America, now empty.
Whether he knew what was coming or not, that post has become his final message to the world.
The Photographer Documented Everything Until the End
One of the six people killed was Weisman Mora, Jiménez’s photographer and content creator. Mora was doing his job right up until the crash. He posted an Instagram story from the front passenger seat as the plane was taxiing for takeoff.
That Instagram story is now the last visual record of the group alive. A mundane moment, probably excited about the trip, completely unaware of what was about to happen.
Also killed were Jefferson Osorio (Jiménez’s manager and the architect of his career), Oscar Marín (his personal assistant and right-hand man), and the two pilots, Hernando Torres and Juan Manuel Rodríguez. The crash didn’t just kill one person. It wiped out the entire core team that made Yeison Jiménez’s career function.
He Rose From Selling Avocados to Filling Stadiums
To understand why Colombia is in mourning, you need to understand who Yeison Jiménez was and where he came from.
He was born July 26, 1991, in Manzanares, Caldas, a small town in Colombia. His early life was marked by poverty. He moved to Bogotá and found work at Corabastos, the massive central wholesale market that feeds the capital city.
Jiménez worked as a “cotero,” a market porter. He carried heavy loads. He sold avocados. He woke up before dawn and worked in the chaos and noise of one of Latin America’s biggest markets.
But he never hid that past. He celebrated it. He was the “voice of the people” because he had literally lived their life. While working in the market, he started writing songs. The genre he worked in, “Música Popular,” is all about heartbreak, drinking, hard work, and resilience. The market workers were his first audience.
His rise was gradual but relentless. He built a following through the authenticity of his lyrics and the power of his voice. By 2024, he was selling out the Movistar Arena in Bogotá three times in a row. In 2025, he sold out El Campín Stadium, a 40,000-seat venue that usually only hosts global superstars like Shakira or Coldplay.
He went from carrying avocados to headlining stadiums. That’s the Colombian dream, and he lived it.
His Song “Aventurero” Became His Epitaph
Jiménez’s biggest hit was a song called “Aventurero” (Adventurer). The lyrics include a line that has now become unbearably poignant: “Yo no quiero honores ni llanto ni flores, quiero descansar.”
“I want no honors, tears, or flowers. I want to rest.”
That song celebrated living life fully, honestly, maybe a little recklessly. It was about being an adventurer, pushing boundaries, experiencing everything. After the crash, those lyrics became the anthem of his funeral. Fans have been playing it at vigils across Colombia.
He also had a deep love for horses and frequently shared that passion on social media. In his songs, he requested that when he died, his horses should be the ones to carry him to his final resting place. That specific, personal detail about wanting his horses involved in his funeral shows how much thought he had given to his own death.
Colombia Is in Mourning
The reaction to Jiménez’s death has been massive and visceral. President Gustavo Petro issued a statement of condolence. The Governor of Boyacá, Carlos Amaya, declared “Departmental Mourning” since the crash happened on Boyacá soil.
In cities across Colombia (Bogotá, Medellín, Manzanares), fans gathered for candlelight vigils. These “velatones” were organized spontaneously through social media, with thousands showing up to honor the “Aventurero.”
A video that went viral in the days after his death shows Jiménez’s character perfectly. He and influencer Camilo Cifuentes surprise a young female fan singing on the street. Jiménez joins her in the song, and she breaks down crying, completely overwhelmed. This video has become the defining image of who he was: approachable, kind, and genuinely connected to his fans.
Other artists have expressed devastation. Silvestre Dangond, a Vallenato superstar, noted the recurring tragedy of Colombian artists dying young. Collaborators like J Balvin and Maluma posted tributes calling him a “guerrero” (warrior) of the industry.
Streaming platforms like Spotify and YouTube reported massive spikes in people listening to his music. It’s a sad but predictable phenomenon when an artist dies. Everyone rushes to hear their voice one more time.
What Caused the Crash?
The investigation is being conducted by Aerocivil, Colombia’s civil aviation authority. Based on the evidence from the first 48 hours, they’re looking at several possibilities.
The most likely scenario involves engine failure combined with the high-altitude conditions. The plane was taking off from 8,200 feet above sea level, where the thin air makes everything harder. The aircraft was a 44-year-old twin-engine Piper Navajo with turbocharged engines designed to handle high altitude.
But if one of those engines failed during takeoff, especially with a full load of passengers, luggage, and fuel, the plane would have been in immediate trouble. Witnesses said it was “struggling” to gain altitude. That suggests a loss of power.
In twin-engine planes, if one engine quits at low speed, the plane will yaw and roll toward the dead engine. If the pilot can’t maintain enough speed, the rudder becomes ineffective and the plane can enter an uncontrollable roll. That matches what witnesses described: struggling, failing to climb, then descending into the field.
Investigators will also look at whether the plane was overweight for the conditions, whether there was fuel contamination, and whether maintenance records show any red flags.
The plane was owned through a trust (TVPX Aircraft Solutions Inc. Trustee), which is how non-U.S. citizens can register aircraft in the United States. The ultimate owner was likely Jiménez’s own company or a charter service he regularly used.
The Tour That Will Never Happen
Jiménez had a packed 2026 schedule. He was supposed to play a second date at El Campín Stadium on March 28, 2026. That show is now cancelled, along with the rest of his tour. The economic impact is in the millions, but that’s secondary to the human loss.
He left behind a wife and children, including the son whose birth happened just days after that scary emergency landing. He feared leaving them without a father. And then it happened anyway.
Was It Premonition or Just Trauma?
The question everyone is asking: Did Yeison Jiménez actually see the future, or was he just processing trauma from a previous incident?
From a psychological standpoint, his recurring dreams make complete sense. He survived a terrifying in-flight emergency. He had young children. He was constantly flying in small planes for work. Of course his brain was going to process that fear through nightmares.
But when someone has that specific of a dream, talks about it publicly, and then dies exactly that way weeks later, it doesn’t matter what the psychological explanation is. To the people who loved him, it feels like he knew.
“God gave me three signals and I didn’t understand them,” he said on TV. Looking back, maybe the signals weren’t meant for him to avoid the crash. Maybe they were meant to prepare him. And to prepare the people who would mourn him.
Yeison Jiménez lived as an adventurer. He pushed past poverty, past genre barriers, past every limitation. He sang about wanting no honors or flowers, just rest. On January 10, 2026, on a runway in Boyacá, the adventure ended. But the impact of his journey, from the markets of Bogotá to the stages of Latin America, will echo for generations.
The cart is silent now. But the noise he made while he was here changed everything.
