Venezuelans deported to prison in Salvador, “caught in a nightmare”

The lack of tangible information about her son Oscar-one from 238 Venezuells, deported from the United States to a prison with maximum security in El Salvador-Nakara Gertrudis Pnededa to despair and leave her on the brink of a collapse.

She bursts into tears the moment we start talking about an Oscar.

“My son just went to look for the American dream and now he’s trapped in a nightmare,” she sobs.

Oscar lived in Dallas, Texas. Gertrudis explains that he has put carpets in living apartments: “He helped me by sending money for the family and buying medicines for his father who has diabetes.”

Gertrudis is 1800 km from Oscar, talking to me from the suffocating heat of Zulia, in the Western Venezuela.

The mother and the son are divided by six borders and the impenetrable walls of Cecot, the notorious “Center for the Retention of El Salvador’s terrorism”-prison with maximum security built to accommodate violent members of the MS-13 and 18th Street band.

The US government accuses the Venezuela de detained in Cecot for being members of the Tren de Aragua gang.

The Trump administration removed them from the US soil under the Enemy Enemy Enemies Act of 1798, without a proper process, putting the US Department of Justice in conflict with a federal judge who ordered the aircraft to carry migrants to turn.

Gertrudis knew that her son had been harvested by ICE Customs (ICE) agents, but realized she was in Texas and most likely on the way to Venezuela.

She realized that she was taken to Salvadoran’s prison when her other son, who lives in Colombia, saw her name on a list shown on television.

Shortly thereafter, images of 238 Venezuelans, who turn their heads, were broadcast as they were processed upon arrival at Cecot with maximum security.

Gertrudis could have made his son from a rose tattoo he has on his forearm.

“There are so many innocent boys there,” Gertrudis says.

“They did nothing wrong, but they treat them like animals. Where are their human rights?” She begs.

The White House insists that the deported to Cecot were properly checked. Trump administration officials say they are all dangerous members of the band – although they have admitted in court documents that many do not have criminal records in the United States.

While Cecot has been declared a solution to the problem with the gang of President of El Salvador, the most bouquet and his supporters, he has long been described by activists as a “black hole in human rights”.

Gertrudis discovers that this is also a black hole of information.

She did not have a word about her son’s well -being. The last time she saw him, he had a shaved head, chained and dressed in a white prison T -shirt and shorts.

She does not know if he is stored under the same conditions as the prisoners in Salvadoran, who receive “no ray of sunlight”, as President Boukele said it, when it first revealed the controversial facility with its hassle -free cells and corridors.

The criticism of the Venezuela deportation in Supermax is increasing not only in the US and their homeland, but also in El Salvador.

Salvadorant Immigration Expert Napoleon Campos believes that this move is unconstitutional and that the Supreme Court of the El Salvador Constitutional Chamber “must act”.

“He must declare that bringing these people to Salvador, without committing any crime in that country, exceeding our constitutional boundaries.”

He says that “anecdotal evidence” is arranged that a significant part of 238 did not have criminal files “not in Venezuela, nor in the United States and much less in El Salvador.”

Campos believes that the idea of ​​a black hole in El Salvador’s rights is applied beyond Cecot – to the nation as a whole.

“El Salvador today is a deep black hole of illegality, of violations of fundamental freedoms and freedoms, under our constitution and under the Inter-American Convention on Human Rights,” Mr Campos insists. “There is no other way to say it.”

Work on the negotiation of the legal system of the country in the name of the deprived of the liberty Venezuelli fell to Jaime Ortega, who says he was hired by Vice President of Venezuela to ensure their release.

“This case is very sad and unheard of in us,” he explains.

“We only saw this in times of slavery when people were moved between a place and a place for money. This is unprecedented.”

He remains confident that he can ensure the release of the Venezuelans, given the lack of clarity on the conditions under which they were brought to the Central American nation: “There seems to be some form of agreement between Salvador and the United States, the documents we cannot find and do not.”

He states how if El Salvador is declared a “safe third country” for immigration purposes, he and others who challenge deportation can work on this clear legal definition. However, this is not the case.

He believes that the few men should be accommodated at some immigration center before a possible return to Venezuela, not to the Supermax facility, designed for hardened members of the Salvadorant gang.

Meanwhile, President Naib Boukele has rejected all criticism of both Cecot and his wider repression against bands in El Salvador.

Instead, he indicates the changes that his measures have introduced into Salvadoran society.

It was three years ago this week that he declared a “state of exception” in the country, where certain constitutional norms and rights were suspended.

The measure, originally imposed for a month, has already been extended 35 times by a loyalistic congress and has no sign of an end.

The repression continues to enjoy enormous support among Salvadorants, who re -elected the extremely popular landslide president last year.

In part, the reason can be found in San Salvador neighborhoods as 10 de Okstra.

Former MS-13-controlled MS-13 band, it was a fortress of one of El Salvador-Elmer’s most powerful criminals, Rivera, also known as the Crook, which is now in prison in the United States.

Simply entering the winding rear collection at the base of the jungle was impossible without the approval of the gang.

Even with theirs forward, it would be an unreasonable move. The blackmail, violence and intimidation were full in this community, whose members were in constant fear for their children, their lives and livelihood.

The contrast with the quiet tranquility of an ordinary neighborhood could not be old.

Many walls and even trees are painted bright pink and green, covering the threatening graffiti of the MS-13, and three soldiers stand in the shade holding automatic weapons, a sign of the bouquet security strategy in action.

“We have opened this store after (the state of exception comes into force),” explains Roxana, who runs a small store selling soda, food and cheap clothes from her front room.

“Things have changed a lot. We feel more relaxed to have a business and we can stay open late.” The constant demands of the members of the gang for blackmail payments have also dried up, she says.

Still, it remains a comprehensive culture of silence in the former band neighborhoods.

Few residents were ready to give more than one -thoughtful answers to life under the bands, and Roxana did not want to give her a surname or take her picture.

“Many innocent people were also rounded,” she says of President Bouke’s repression. “We know about a lot of cases from here. There are still people in prison that we know should not be there. It’s unfair.”

In Cecot, thousands of prisoners have been held for years, many without court. Only 13 days have passed for Oscar, but for his mother Gertrudis can also be a decade.

She takes care of his eight -year -old son in Venezuela while his father falls into Salvador.

She says she is identified with Salvadorani’s mothers who are closed in Cecot, although they have some noticeable gang relationships, a situation she was not aware of before her own son was detained there without obvious previous relationships with the Tren de Aragu band, which he was accused of working.

“My son is Venezuelan, not Salvadoran. So, what this president has done is to abduct our children,” says Gertrudis between growing sobs.

“If they have committed crimes, then they must answer them here in Venezuela.

“They should send them home.”