Tag: Venezuela

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'My cousin is dying'

As soon as I walk through the gate of her home in Cabimas, I get a hug that doesn't seem to stop. These have been difficult days for her. Last week, she received her first cancer treatment. She was lucky; the drugs needed for treatment were crowdfunded by her daughter who lives in Europe. The cost for 10 treatments? Converted to 820 monthly wages. A week earlier, one of my team members brought the drugs from Caracas to Cabimas, 700 km away.

Lying in her hammock, she recounts the events of the past few weeks, how she dropped a few eggs earlier today and could well cry, and especially how she was shocked afterwards that she has to cry over something as simple as broken eggs - due to hyperinflation, a box of eggs now costs one month's salary.

My cousin is dying

Something extraordinary happened. I posted on facebook a picture of the bizarrely high bill for her medication, 2.1 billion. Another facebook friend responded. Lilia: 'My cousin is dying, no medicine, a tumor in his head'. I contact Lilia a learn that her cousin Julian (24) is in a public hospital in Caracas. We decide to look for him.

Julian's grandmother lives in a suburb of Caracas. With tears in her eyes, she recounts Julian's childhood. 'He was a serious boy, didn't smoke, rarely drank,' even after the diagnosis, he remained strong, no one understands where he got his zest for life and energy all this time.

Several years ago, his health deteriorated. At first the family had money to have him admitted to a private clinic, but as the country's inflation was rapidly increasing, the money ran out "all the money went to medicine and food." On top of that, the family lost money as it ended up in the pocket of a specialist, who ended up disappearing abroad with the money without providing treatment.

Julian ends up in El Llanito, one of the largest state hospitals in Caracas. The family goes to the government to apply for support, eventually it would take two years to actually receive the first support.

Medications are resold

The medical world in Venezuela is going through a huge crisis. Medicines are almost impossible to get and imported medicines are unaffordable. Cancer, AIDS and dialysis treatments have been stopped. Many hospitals have closed or are nearly non-functioning; many doctors have fled. A few weeks earlier, I stood in front of a Barquisimeto hospital talking to a group of medical students; none of them planned to stay in Venezuela after completing their studies. With a monthly salary of less than 12 euros converted, the doctors who have remained can hardly make ends meet themselves. Medications meant for patients are not administered but resold privately, with hand money you get priority and better treatment.

Pilot, teacher or chef after all

As a child, Julian wanted to be anything and everything. Pilot one day, teacher the next, Julian's mother let me know in one of our conversations. A treasure, he learned hard. Before he got sick, there was a moment when he decided to become a chef and sold shoarma at the garage of his house. Unfortunately, his hands were not fast enough (anymore), but he tried anyway. On weekends, he spent a lot of time with his grandmother and grandfather. The latter was like a father to him. In general, he was a good boy. Except for normal things like cleaning up the laundry, he never made trouble or argued. His life consisted mostly of studying, eating and sleeping. And even now during his illness he talks about continuing his studies at university and starting his own business.

Monitored by government agencies

Julian's grandmother invites me to visit the hospital. 'They don't have anything in the hospital. I have to bring everything food, medicine, cleaning products, they don't even have water there,' the grandmother informs me on the way. The Llanito hospital is guarded by government agencies; at the entrance to the hospital is a checkpoint of the Guardia Nacional, and members of the Guardia also walk through the hospital. Outsiders and certainly journalists are not welcome here, but the grandmother manages to sneak me past the checkpoints.

Deplorable conditions

Most of the lights are not working, but one of the four elevators in the hospital (not maintained for years) is functioning. It's filthy, it stinks. I am carrying the bag of food when we walk into Julian's room; it turns out he is not there, but is in the intensive care unit. We seek him out, something that will prove more difficult than previously thought, as we are initially denied access. Only later would I notice how wretched the conditions of intensive care where, due to lack of cleaning and disinfectants, your death sentence is almost certainly signed. 'I visit him every day, if I can't take the car or the subway I'll walk,' the grandmother tells me as we walk away from the ward. A nurse calls after us 'don't forget to buy soap and diapers'.

Downhill

After a long diagnosis, Julian is told that he has a brain tumor that is not treatable (ed: in Venezuela), from there it goes downhill. Necessary antibiotics cannot be found, for other medications the family also has to search by themselves, and even the catheter and IV bags are no longer in stock at the hospital.

Julian's situation worsens, he can now communicate only with his eyes and is incontinent. He contracts meningitis. According to Julian's Mother, he contracted it in the hospital. At home, they have taken precautions, such as keeping sick people away from Julian.

A few days after my visit with Julian, a nurse comes to tell the mother that she needs to visit her son because it is believed that he will not make it through the morning. She sees that Julian is no longer "with it" by then and that he can no longer breathe on his own, "he no longer responded to touch." I then asked God to deliver Julian from this suffering. 5 Minutes later, mother is called back and learns that her son has fallen into a coma, 5 minutes later Julian dies at the age of 24.

Burial costs 60 monthly wages

Julian's family is lucky, the funeral can be paid for because Julian's grandfather used to work at a university. They contributed, and the mother's employer also contributed 20 million. The total cost of the funeral was 300 million (ed: converted 60 monthly salaries plus bonuses). The coffin had to be rented. The mother let me know she was lucky to have a large family to help, "family members did everything they could. Cousins, for example, helped look for medicine on the Internet'. Others do not have this and are on their own.

Sometimes the family could not stay at the mortuary because of the smell of corpses. There are too many dead and "some people don't have money for the funeral and leave the body there.

For his funeral, mother bought white roses to hand out to loved ones. One of the people who received such a rose told that Julian had once given her one of those as well. 'When he was little he brought it to my work. Everyone loved him. He was very innocent, different from others. I cannot accept that a person of his character should die this way'.

Government's fault.

Mother feels Julian's death is the government's fault, she worked as a teacher for 15 years and insurance has not helped her now. "It's the government's fault.". "Maduro should send people to see what is happening in the hospitals. I can't understand that he doesn't know, if he sends people he can see the suffering and need of the people."

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Opinion: the Netherlands fatally irresponsible

While all of Venezuela's neighbors are doing everything they can to control the flow of refugees and increase pressure on Maduro's dictatorial regime, refugees must be deported from the Dutch Kingdom at any cost, with all the consequences that entails. Even making deals with internationally wanted criminals is not avoided. In the past few months, I was researching this humanitarian crisis and the dubious role of the Netherlands in all of this in both Venezuela and Curaçao. Given the acute importance, here is a brief account. 

Fleeing for survival

Millions of Venezuelans are fleeing their dictatorship in search of a better life. Hundreds of thousands are fleeing simply because there is no food or need medical attention. Others are fleeing, fearing arrest or worse. Thousands cross the borders of Brazil and Colombia every day, some taking the risk of reaching the islands of the Dutch Kingdom in rickety boats. Those who are lucky can live there in the shadow of the tourists in illegality with the daily fear of being arrested, those who are less lucky are arrested even before arrival, imprisoned in inhumane conditions, only to be sent back to the dictatorship they fled with all the risks that entails.

 

A humanitarian crisis

Venezuela's neighbors, the EU, the United Nations, Amnesty, UNHCR, everyone but the dictatorship itself recognizes that a humanitarian crisis is underway, one of the biggest known to our generation. The regime of "President" Nicolás Maduro blames an economic war allegedly being waged against the country. He calls the refugee figures implausible. Meanwhile, millions of Venezuelans have fled because survival has simply become impossible; the flow of refugees is only expected to increase. What little food there is left is unaffordable, most of the hospitals have closed and medicines are virtually unobtainable. Cancer, AIDS and dialysis patients are doomed.  

The vast majority flee to their largest neighbors, Brazil and Colombia, where they are recognized as refugees; relaxed visa requirements and special status give them a measure of protection. Many travel on, sometimes even on foot, to Ecuador and Peru. Pressure on the border areas is intense, and international aid has only recently begun to arrive.

Flights to Curaçao

Others choose to reach the Kingdom's islands from northern Venezuela on increasingly rickety boats. Whereas last year I could go along for 12 euros, today demand has increased so much that the price has risen to $300. One or more boats depart daily at night. Between fifteen and thirty refugees are sailed to just off the coastline of Curaçao where they have to reach the island while swimming. Recently I spoke in Puerto Cumarebo with some Venezuelans who were about to leave and asked them what they expected. They talked about their last chance. The seventy-kilometer crossing can be a dangerous one; several times bodies have washed up on Curaçao.

Directly deported

Sometimes the boats are intercepted by the Coast Guard even before the coast. These people are immediately arrested and detained in prison, from where they are deported (sometimes after only a few days) back to the humanitarian crisis they fled. Prison conditions are degrading. Several witness statements and a recent Amnesty report confirm the picture of belittling, mistreatment and the inability to claim rights. Children are separated from parents and denied medical care. Both Amnesty and UNHCR have called on the Kingdom to stop this degrading treatment.

Illegally undocumented

Most of the refugees do manage to reach the islands without being intercepted. However, the kingdom does not recognize these people as refugees but refers to them as illegal undocumented migrants. These people, estimated at between 10 and 15 thousand, live illegally on the island. Many of them live underground, afraid of being arrested and deported, with no chance of claiming medical care or any rights. Many women end up in prostitution, estimated at around two thousand. The police regularly conduct searches around the island, sometimes arresting dozens of refugees at a time.

Curaçao says it has no capacity and financial resources to receive the Venezuelans. Several times 'The Hague' has been asked for help, but there the leaders point to the islands' own responsibility. The Netherlands has promised help with knowledge of the immigration and naturalization service and has pledged one hundred thousand euros for renovations to the prison. Last week, another pledge of almost 150,000 euros was made to realize a closed shelter for women.

Block's dark deal

in April this year Minister Blok appeared out of nowhere on Venezuelan television, where he had just managed to secretly make a deal during an unannounced visit that resulted in the lifting of the long-standing border blockade between Venezuela and the Dutch islands. Among others, he was accompanied by the American wanted drug lord Tareck El Aissami. We later learn that Stef Blok had been working behind the scenes to prepare this deal and used the state visit to Colombia to finalize it.

Full prisons

Later, Blok's intention in a interview with René Zwart become clear: , "I was able to observe the effects of the blockade for myself during my visit. The islands really suffered a lot. They depend on imports from Venezuela for foodstuffs, especially fruits and vegetables. There is also the problem of people from Venezuela coming to the Caribbean parts of the Kingdom in search of a better life. The islands have no room for that. It threatened to become such large numbers that it would become disruptive. So it is of utmost importance that migrants who come to the islands for economic reasons can be returned. For me, therefore, the core was to get the blockade lifted, and knowing how crucial it is for the islands, that is what I worked for."

Aruba's controversial consul

The reason for the blockade was initially said to be smuggling. However, at play behind the scenes was that the Netherlands was blocking the appointment of Aruba's new consul, Carlos Mata Figueroa. The Netherlands threatened to block the appointment not only because this ex-military man has no diplomatic experience whatsoever, but also because he is known to have ties to the Kartel de los Soles and is also suspected of being responsible for ordering murder. He came into disrepute after, when he was governor, he ordered Tupamaros to attack associates of his opposing candidate. During Blok and Aissami's press conference, it became clear that the Netherlands would no longer block the appointment, and the day after the deal, Carlos Mata Figueroa was appointed consul of Aruba.

Maikel Moreno

Several countries including the Netherlands (through the EU) have placed most of the regime's leaders on the sanctions list. Including Maikel Moreno, who appears with a total of 42 countries on the sanctions list. Maikel Moreno is the president of the new higher court established by Maduro and, in addition to being jointly responsible for violating human rights, is also suspected of murdering a teenager, for which in 1989 he was arrested became. Weeks after signing the deal with Minister Blok, the Dutch-sanctioned Moreno appears at the international criminal court in The Hague. Answers to parliamentary questions reveal that the Netherlands had to make special efforts to get sanctions out of the way to make this visit possible.

Summary executions

Several organizations note human rights violations. Hundreds of people died during protests, thousands were arrested. Recently, Amnesty released a report finding that over eight thousand Venezuelans have been summary executed in recent years.

Immediately after the deal was signed, the Kingdom continued to deport Venezuelan refugees. The fruit boats, which Blok said were a major reason for the deal, have been waiting for months and have (temporarily) lost their permanent place on Curaçao's wharf.

My thoughts

During my latest, three-month research, I went in search of Venezuelans recently deported by the Kingdom. A few had decided to flee to another neighboring country, others were about to make another attempt to reach the islands, but the trace of several after deportation is obscure. The families I spoke to are distraught and fear they may never see their child again. In a broadcast at" Real John!" of last week, I too express my anguish about the fate of the missing deported refugees. It also becomes clear during my research that an asylum procedure does exist on Curaçao, but is inaccessible. In a hidden camera action, it becomes clear how people are sent from pillar to post and are eventually never offered the possibility of an asylum procedure.

Knowingly complicit

The recommendations in Amnesty's report - including a temporary halt to the deportation of refugees - were ignored by Curaçao last week. Curaçao and also the Netherlands continue to label the refugees as illegal undocumented migrants who come to the island for an economic reason. I see it differently: they are not economic refugees, but there are economic reasons not to see them as refugees. And with that thought, knowing what is going on in Venezuela, knowing about opinions and reports from various organizations, knowing that political opposition and criticism against Maduro's regime can lead to imprisonment or summary execution, knowing that people are dying on a large scale due to shortages of food and medicine. Knowing all this, yet simply sending people back without any procedure of this kind makes you complicit in their fate.

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How one of the richest countries in the world can be poor - Part 1

Yesterday in Venezuela, following an investigation into "illegal exchange rates," 86 people were arrested, 112 arrest warrants issued, 596 raids conducted and 1133 bank accounts frozen. Maduro calls it the outcome of one of the largest criminal investigations in history. But really, it is nothing more than a distraction from the real problem.

No exchange offices

Unlike many other countries, there are no official exchange offices for foreign currency in Venezuela. Exchange can only be done at the government, but they no longer have money. Exchanging foreign currency such as Dollars is therefore prohibited. However, the black market trade is gróót, and the price has skyrocketed. In 2014, it was 80 bolivars per dollar. Today more than 550,000 bolivars.

The food trade

In contrast, the government kept the rate of the Dollar artificially low for decades. 1 Dollar was 10 bolivars, but only obtainable by companies that were friends of the government. Since 85% of products are imported into Venezuela -and there was almost no production in its own country- the government managed to keep power over the food trade this way. In recent years, the government did move somewhat away from the one rate policy. Now they operate several. All still far from the black market rate.

Don't unhook yet. If you want to understand how one of the richest countries in the world can be poor, let's go through this. Foreign reserves, 9.8 billion left. To paint a picture. The budget of the Netherlands (2018) is 277 billion. Back to Venezuela. 95% of Venezuela's income comes from oil exports. The country's oil production has halved in recent years (refinery failures, etc). The price of oil has seen better times, but is still higher than when Chavez came to power.

The debts

come from the country comes from oil. Production has been cut in half. Now a word about the debts. To keep paying for everything, the regime has borrowed a lot of money (from China). Their weapons they buy with loans (from Russia). Those loans they pay back with oil. In total, more than 2/3 of oil exports go to paying back loans.

So oil production goes down, what does come out of the refineries goes into debt and the import-dependent country runs out of foreign currency. Airlines can no longer be paid and stop flying into the country. Food can no longer be imported; a scarcity occurs. Medicines can no longer be imported; people die.

The food shortages
Food shortages combined with government-regulated prices on some products stopped the last bit of food production in the country. Queues grew in front of state supermarkets. A black market for food emerged with rapidly rising prices.
People still need to eat, medicines are desperately needed. The government says there is no humanitarian crisis in the country, so international aid is not allowed either. People have to get their food and medicine from neighboring countries. No one accepts their currency, the Bolivar. The government has no Dollars, a black market in Dollars is developing.

Wage of 2 Dollars per month
Meanwhile, the minimum wage is falling rapidly. With today's average black market rate less than $2 a month. People are selling their possessions, getting into crime or whoring themselves out. Corruption was on the rise. Hundreds of thousands of people fled the country in recent months.

Back to where I started. The government is calling yesterday's arrests an outcome of one of the largest criminal investigations in Venezuela's history. And as Bart Schut also points out, the country has bigger problems. And this example is just the tip of the iceberg. Meanwhile, Brazil is considering closing its border, it is harder to flee to Colombia, Chile is making stricter visa requirements, and we are sending Venezuelan refugees back.

Distraction

Maduro will continue to do everything but distract from the real problems (including corruption). Meanwhile, hundreds of thousands will die from shortages of medicine, food and from rising crime.

We will not see much of this. Many journalists are stuck, have fled the country, and communication to the outside world will become increasingly difficult. People will give up hope for international help. That's about it for today. Had to get out. Thank you for your time. Don't forget this country, you are hereby warned.

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Oscar Perez. Public enemy No. 1, or an invention of Maduro?

After a seven-month manhunt, a standoff took place yesterday in a suburb of Caracas (El Junquito) between security forces and several people from Oscar Perez's group. This standoff could be followed minutely via social media until 16:11, the moment when another part of his group indicated they had lost communication with him. In his latest Instagram video a few minutes before, Oscar Perez shouts with a bloodied face "We have wounded, we have wounded, and they keep shooting at us. We're going to surrender! Stop shooting!".

The story begins June 27, 2017, when former CICPC agent Oscar Perez appeared over Caracas in a stolen police helicopter and launched an apparent attack on President Maduro's government.

Who is Oscar Perez. 

Oscar Alberto Pérez (36) was born on 07-05-1981, was an inspector of the CICPC (investigative police) for the past 15 years, also a member of the Special Actions Brigade (BAE) and Chief of Air Operations. Oscar Perez is also known as an actor in an action film called Muerte Suspendida (Suspended Death) . Oscar Perez was a father and describes himself as  'I am a man who goes out without knowing if he is going back home'. He was very active on Instagram in which he displayed his knowledge of weapons in cinamatic videos.

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He gained notoriety in Venezuela when, on June 27, 2017, he stole a helicopter from the CIPC and carried out attacks over downtown Caracas. This occurred at a time when many Venezuelans had been taking to the streets for months to demonstrate against Maduro's government. During this demonstration, over 100 protesters were killed.

Perez hung from the helicopter a banner reading "Article 350, Freedom" a slogan used by protesters who oppose the ruling party.

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Article 350 of the Constitution of Venezuela "The people of Venezuela ... shall renounce any regime, legislation or authority that violates democratic values, principles and guarantees or violates human rights."

During his flight on June 27, Oscar Perez threw two grenades from the helicopter at the headquarters of the Superior Court, 15 shots were reportedly fired in addition. No one was injured. Shortly thereafter, the Guardia National stormed the national parliament, injuring several parliamentarians, and detaining journalists and attendees.

Oscar Perez's action came during an eventful few days. Earlier, President Maduro evoked much outrage with the statement "we will never give up, and what cannot be done with votes, we can do with weapons, we will liberate the homeland with weapons. And as the demonstrations continued in the streets, Attorney General Luisa Ortega Díaz (a formerly staunch ally of the government) was expelled. She eventually fled the country.

Maduro described Perez's action as an act of terrorism, Oscar Perez instantly became public enemy number one, and the same day government forces reportedly went to Perez's home to arrest him. Oscar Perez released a video on the Internet later that day explaining his action earlier that day and his plan for the future of Venezuela. He indicated that he supports the protesters and the people of Venezuela, that he is not alone and that he wants to fight for a free Venezuela.

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Click on the image above for the video of his statement.

Óscar Pérez has been the center of doubt, criticism and inspiration from both government dissidents and protesters and the government itself over the past six months. Some believe Oscar Perez is an invention of Maduro's ruling party to distract people, but others consider him a hero.

The following months 

A day later, the helicopter used by Oscar Perez will be recovered in Vargas. Only a few days later, on July 4, we hear from Perez again through a series of Instagram videos. He indicates having made an emergency landing, being in good health "we will be there to defend our people.

After a lull, Perez appeared in public again for the first time on July 13. This was during a demonstration in Plaza Altamira (downtown Caracas). After a brief statement accompanied by several masked men, Perez quickly disappeared on ready motorcycles. In the months that followed, Perez appeared only in some exclusive interviews and through posts on his Instagram and Twitter account.

Under the name Operation Genesis, Perez appears in a video on Dec. 18. He indicates having taken control of a National Guard post near San Pedro de Los Altos. It would later be revealed that, among other things, 26 machine guns were taken during this action. On Dec. 30, Perez's former home is set on fire; family members are injured. In a message, Perez condemned the action, indicating he would not give in.

Jan. 15, 2018

Early in the morning on Monday, January 15, 2018, reports arrived that a large-scale police operation was underway in a suburb of Caracas, El Junquito. Rather quickly, Oscar Perez published his first of eventually 14 videos of the day. He reports being surrounded by police and negotiating.

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A post shared by Oscar Perez (@equilibriogv) at

We don't see you as enemies! We didn't do this for ourselves. We did this for you, for your children, for your families....

Oscar Perez: We are here on the new highway in El Junquito. We are negotiating. We don't want to fight these officers, in fact, we know some of them. We are patriots, we are nationalists who fight with conviction. To those of you who doubted: here we are, fighting. They opened fire on us and we are taking cover, but now we are negotiating with the officers [incomprehensible] and the officials and the press. Venezuela, don't lose hope. We continue in your name. May Almighty God and Jesus Christ accompany us in this mission.

Man with gun: The God of Israel is with us. People of Venezuela ...

In the videos that follow (see Instagram) Perez and his men reiterate having done it not for their own gain but for the people of Venezuela. He indicates that civilians are also present in the house and that they are being shot at.

In the seventh video, an Oscar Perez appears with a bloodied face.

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A post shared by Oscar Perez (@equilibriogv) at

Oscar Perez: They shoot at us with RPGs, grenades-grenade launchers. A man is yelling at the authorities: we have families and we want to see them again! There are civilians here! We told them we wanted to surrender, but they don't want to. They want to kill us!

Several images that later appeared on social media show a grenade launcher being used.

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In the videos' that follow, Perez and his men repeatedly report being shot at and not shooting back. 'They don't want us to surrender. They literally want to kill us. They just told us that. Be strong. In his latest Instagram video, Oscar Perez shouts: 'We are wounded. We're wounded and they're still shooting at us. [Shouting] We're going to surrender! Stop shooting!" after that, there is silence both in the Caracas suburb and on Instagram. On Perez's Twitter account, a moment later, a message appears.

The account is managed by direct colleagues of Oscar Perez. 'We don't know anything about the current situation, they have already reported for several minutes'.

In the hours that follow, much remains unclear about the situation of Oscar Perez and his men. Until CNN reports that a senior member of the Venezuelan government, who asked to remain anonymous, confirmed that Oscar Perez would have been killed. In a speech later that day, Maduro indicated that 5 people were arrested, 2 police officers died and 5 police officers were injured during the actions. There is no word on the number of wounded and casualties among Oscar Perez's group. At the time of writing this post, it has not been officially announced that Oscar Perez would have died.

The photo below was allegedly leaked to various media outlets by a government employee. You would see the lifeless body of Oscar Perez.

Update 3:28 p.m.. National police confirm the death of Oscar Perez.

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An ordinary day in a bankrupt Venezuela

Our fixer Cheo runs back and forth to the gate of the prison while Joris and I sit just down the street waiting anxiously on the hood of our car. A daily market develops on the street outside the prison; it is a coming and going of visitors and vendors at the gate of Venezuela's most notorious prison.

Yesterday, When we visited the prison, not everything went as planned. It was not the first time we visited the Tocoron prison. While we were convinced that everyone was properly bribed before we entered the prison, all of our equipment was confiscated by the national guards guarding the outside of the prison. When we left the prison, we did not get our equipment back. Later that evening, after some conversations between our fixer and some prisoners, we were told that the inmates' boss had taken our things from the Guardia National and that we could get them back at the prison gate.

Tocoron, a prison for 750 inmates was built in 1982. Today it holds 7,500 prisoners. Guards and government personnel are not welcome in this prison run by prisoners. Chief among them is inmate Hector Guerrero Flores aka Niño Guerrero (The Warrior Child). The ruthless leader has two faces. While he runs his prison and his criminal empire with an iron fist, he is otherwise known as a benefactor. He lifts families out of poverty and gives wheelchairs and medicine to those in need. Niño Guerrero not only runs the Tocoron prison, but his former residential neighborhood of 28,000 residents is completely under the control of Niño and his men. Many others tell us that his power goes even much further in Venezuela.

In recent years, Niño has transformed his prison into a small town where nothing is missing. As we walked through the prison, we saw a swimming pool, a zoo and a disco. On the main street are restaurants, stores and amenities such as a bank, a television provider and gambling houses. Niño and his armed friends ride around the crowded prison on motorcycles undisturbed.

After an hour and a half of waiting in front of the prison, there is rescue. One of Niño's henchmen walks out of the front gate of the prison with our shoulder bag. When we open it, we see that all our equipment is still in it and wonder how much this prank has cost us? Nothing, courtesy of Niño .

Relieved, we continue on our way to Venezuela's capital, Caracas . A mass demonstration is planned there today. For years there has been unrest in the corrupt country ravaged by an economic crisis. In previous demonstrations we visited in recent weeks, there were clashes between protesters and authorities. So far, 43 protesters have been killed in these clashes.

When we arrived in Caracas, we exchanged our car for motorcycles. Because of the protests, there was almost no other way to get through the congested streets of the capital. Once we arrived at one of the highways serving as the route for today's demonstration, we saw that the first protesters were already preparing for what was to come. Logs are being dragged across the road, fences and anything else they can find are being used for the first barricades. In the distance, we see the first clouds of smoke from tear gas coming our way. In the hours that follow, a battle erupts between the authorities and the protesters, and the protesters are gradually forced to move into the center of the city.

While there is no money to import food into Venezuela, there is no shortage of tear gas canisters, which are sometimes shot at protesters by the dozens. As night begins to fall, the mood grows grimmer. As Joris and I make our way to our car, we witness the first car fires, stores and offices being looted. As the protesters continue their struggle, a new demonstration is announced on social media for the next day. Joris and I continue toward our next stop, the city of Maracay.

Axel (23) holds open a refrigerator to show its contents. He lives with his brother Billy (27) and mother Glenda (55) and father Rosvelt (60) in a middle-class neighborhood of Maracay. At the kitchen table, the family talks about the effects of the crisis.

Glenda worked as a bioanalyst at the hospital for 20 years. Since yesterday, her minimum wage has more than doubled to 105,000 bolivares. That is equal to $18. Until yesterday, her full-time job earned her less than $9 a month. The father of the family has been a merchant all his life, a job that today, with the complete collapse of imports, is almost impossible: "Nowadays the only merchant in the country is the government, but I trade in clothes. There is no trade for me now."

The family has lived together for 22 years in a safe middle-class neighborhood in Maracay. The father explains to us that the neighborhood has changed in recent years. "People with money used to live here. When the crisis got worse, many of our neighbors left. The government expropriated many of the houses in this neighborhood and gave them to "government-related people," people with almost no income, sometimes no job, no education. They don't maintain their belongings, don't care about the neighborhood and have no respect." "We used to be able to talk to our friends and family about politics in Venezuela, that subject is too sensitive now."

"We don't have money for the car or the house anymore. All the money we have, we spend on food and medicine, it's too expensive." From his closet, Rosvelt pulls out a strip of medicine. "Take this for example. This strip of 14 pills, enough for a week, costs 25,000 bolivares in Venezuela." In his other hand, he holds a box. "This box, with 300 of the same pills...., and enough for five months, costs me 55,000 bolivars in Colombia."

"I suffer daily when I work in the hospital. It is terrible not being able to give people the help they need because of the shortages of medicine and medical equipment. The government watches but does nothing to change the situation," continued an emotional Glenda. "Every day people die unnecessarily, people stay sick unnecessarily. The government is more concerned about their image. All hospital employees are required to participate in pro-government demonstrations and the government spends a lot of money on propaganda materials.

"A shortage of food and rising inflation have forced people to queue for hours at the supermarket every day in the hope of getting basic items like bread, rice and milk. Food prices are rising daily, and for a simple lunch on the side of the road you easily pay 7,000 bolivares. With luck, you can find a pack of pasta for 4500 bolivares, which is more than a day's wage.

Before yesterday's 60% pay raise, Glenda, the sole breadwinner of the house, earned 48,000 bolivars a month. How can you live with that? "Little by little, any money that comes in goes to food or medicine," she said. Does yesterday's wage increase help the family? "No, in fact it makes the situation even more difficult. Every time wages go up, prices go up twice as much," Rosvelt replied.

"Almost all the teachers have left my university, I think 80% is gone," Axel says. "The oldest students have taken it up and are now teaching." Axel worries. "You can study, but who am I going to work for in Venezuela? There's no one to give me a job. If you're realistic, I have to say it's unrealistic to think that studying here in Venezuela is worth anything."

"Many young Venezuelans have left the country," he said. "My family also offered me to leave Venezuela, but I wanted to finish my studies, I would like to call myself a professional. But I also have ambitions. My dream would be to move to Canada, but that is not realistic, I would go anywhere possible at the moment."

"Yes, leaving Venezuela leaves the country without professionals, but we have to think of ourselves, of our family. The government gives us no choice but to leave. Personally, I am not protesting, several students have already died in demonstrations and death is not part of my future plans."

Later in the evening, over a beer from the cost of almost a day's wages, Joris and I talk about the day. It remains incomprehensible what has happened to one of the most oil-rich countries in the world. We wonder what tomorrow will bring, because every day in Venezuela seems to consist of unthinkable and unpredictable developments.

[This article was previously published on VICE.com under the title: Así se ve la Venezuela que no aguanta más la crisis]

By: Michel Baljet Photos: Joris van Gennip

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Opinion: Venezuela, a dictatorship headed for civil war.

Those who still had doubts about democracy in Venezuela need fret no longer. The last little bit of democracy was thrown overboard the sinking ship yesterday. While the world watches and slaps Maduro's regime around with sanctions and requests for dialogue, Venezuelans are fleeing the country en masse. Those who remain behind are getting ready for an increasingly violent struggle.

Maduro's regime had called an election for last Sunday whose results were known in advance. Yesterday Venezuelans were allowed to go to the polls to elect the 545 members for a "Constituent Assembly. The 5,500 candidate members were all affiliated with Maduro's party. The goal of the new parliament is to rewrite the constitution, with Maduro taking even more power to himself. The opposition, which has held two-thirds of parliamentary seats since 2015, denounced the elections from day one and boycotted them. In a self-organized plebiscite earlier this month, it called for new presidential elections.

It was not only the opposition in Venezuela that went head-to-head. Countries like America and Colombia saw nothing in this "sham" election. Colombia indicated it would not recognize the result and America announced it would come up with new sanctions. The European Union also had an opinion and called on Venezuela to reach a solution through "dialogue, political will and courage.

Meanwhile, violence in the streets is increasing. For months, members of the opposition have been taking to the streets to call attention to the humanitarian crisis in the ravaged country and to protest Maduro's policies. The atmosphere is getting grimmer by the day. Whereas when I was there last month I was still shocked to see the Guardia National gas canisters firing directly at protesters and the press, today my Whatsapp floods with images of large explosions and soldiers armed to the teeth.

But anyone who is honest sees that there has actually been a dictatorship in Venezuela for a long time. Maduro has ruled by decree for years. The parliament where the opposition has held the majority since 2015 has been out of power since day one. Opposition members are usually locked up and elections that should have already been held have not taken place. Government employees have been pressured for years to support government policies. If not, you lose your job, house or both; that threat was no different in last Sunday's election.

Until recently, the world seemed to look the other way with closed eyes, and comparatively almost no attention was paid to developments in the country. Now the world is watching. Naively and from the sidelines, this while a major humanitarian crisis is unfolding before our eyes.

The opposition's diplomatic paths that were full of holes all turned out to be dead ends. As it stands, the Venezuelan does not have to expect much from the international community either, beyond some sanctions and "well-meaning advice.

The hungry Venezuelan has no choice but to try to stay on his feet and fight for change. Claiming victory in last weekend's election, it is clear that Maduro has no intention of throwing in the towel anytime soon. However, Maduro no longer had very many friends, and there will be even fewer once he will lose total control over the people who keep him in power, his friends armed to the teeth in the Bolivarian National Armed Forces.

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New Revu | The World of Niño Guerrero

While Venezuela is on its hiatus, in prison life goes on as usual. Journalist Michel Baljet and photographer Joris van Gennip are met at the entrance by two armed prisoners, meant to keep guards out. Welcome to Tocoron, one of Venezuela's most notorious prisons.

Next to me walks a young soldier with an oversized machine gun around his shoulder. Joris, the photographer who traveled with me to Venezuela, walks behind me on the right, our fixer on the left. We have been walking for a few hundred meters along an unpaved dirt road, which we feel leads nowhere, when I again ask Joris to be extra vigilant. From the other side comes a motorcycle with two more soldiers.

Forbidden area

Over an hour earlier, Joris and I arrived at Tocoron to do a report on life in one of Venezuela's most notorious prisons. What was supposed to be a routine job did not go as planned. While we thought we had bribed all the soldiers guarding the outside gate of the prison, our belongings - some cameras and other equipment - were taken away by a major. After mutual consultation, he sent us and the young soldier up the deserted road that ran alongside the prison.

The motorcycle carrying the two soldiers comes to a stop and the soldier accompanying us talks to his colleagues. After a few skittish glances our way, it is decided that we should turn around, to walk back to the prison gate. It will never become clear why we had been sent in this direction in the first place.

After that, things moved quickly. At the gate, we didn't get our stuff back, but were allowed to walk through. In my pocket was another phone that we could use to take pictures. We decided to go in without equipment anyway. Walking into the prison, we breathed a sigh of relief, both with the feeling that this might have ended very differently. From here we encountered no guards, no military and no government employees. Indeed, from here on out, it is off-limits to them.

We walk into the world of Niño Guerrero, an inmate who has been running this prison along with his accomplices for years. The authorities gave up controlling the prison years ago and now focus only on guarding the prison's fence. In 2012, Guerrero escaped with several accomplices, a year later he was back and since then he has not stopped for a day to build his empire. Héctor Guerrero Flores, aka Niño Guerrero (The Warrior Child), is a ruthless leader with two faces. Where on the one hand he keeps the prison and his criminal empire running with an iron fist, on the other he is known as a benefactor. Like a modern-day Robin Hood, he lifts families out of poverty and distributes wheelchairs and medicine to those in need. The Warrior Child not only runs the Tocoron prison; his former neighborhood of 28,000 is also completely under the authority of him and his men. If our fixer is to be believed, his power goes much further.

Power grab

Tocoron, built in 1982 for 750 prisoners, today houses more than 7,500. For years, the government has had no say here. In fact, at the entrance leading to the center of the facility, two armed inmates stand to keep guards out. 3 years ago this security was even more extreme, when there were prisoners with machine guns and you could find an armed prisoner on every street corner. Recently, Niño decided to replace these weapons with knives on visiting days. 'For imaging,' I later learn.

Most of the bullet holes are from a conflict that took place a few years ago. In a gunfight that lasted hours, Niño won back his power

This is not the first time Joris and I have been here. Last week we were there as well. Both fascinated by the developments inside this prison, we decided to go back today. The first time I visited this wonderful world was in 2014. I even volunteered there for a few days to understand what is going on here.

Walking through the gate of the prison, you come to a main road leading to the center of the prison. To its left are the two buildings that once formed the original prison. Inmates are doing restoration work on the flat; they are about halfway there. Under the newly applied exterior coating, bullet holes are still clearly visible. Most of these bullet holes are from a conflict that took place a few years ago. A prisoner was of the opinion that not one person should be in charge within the walls of Tocoron. Niño disagreed. In a firefight that lasted for hours, Niño won back his power. Dozens of people did not survive the power grab. The official death toll stands at 16. Videos taken by prisoners, however, show us a much higher death toll.

Subordinate

Right after the entrance, we find a square on the main street with a basketball court. A stage is ready and the boxes for a performance later in the day are set up. Next to the plaza is the newly renovated swimming pool with a playground for the youngest visitors.

Walking down the main street for a while, we come to the center of the prison. While there is a major food crisis in Venezuela right now, it does not seem to exist here. Several stores and restaurants offer all kinds of food and necessities. Here, unlike in the outside world, customers do not have to stand in line for hours before making a purchase.

Nor is a swimming pool lacking at Tocoron Prison, which is doing better economically than outside its gates.

While developments in Venezuela have stalled in recent years due to a shortage of building materials, developments in Tocoron have continued apace. For example, several buildings that were plywood when I visited 3 years ago are now concrete.

The small, autonomous city offers numerous amenities for those who can afford them. For example, you can get a television connection for 100,000 bolivar a week (a monthly wage). Residents of Tocoron pay an allowance to stay in prison; if you can't pay that, you become a subordinate, recognizable by a tie. You must then work for Niño to pay for your place inside the prison. Subordinates are allowed to walk around and stay in a locked part of the prison only with permission. Subordinates help visitors lift luggage, do maintenance work and drag large buckets of water through the prison. Every day they receive a government-paid meal. We see a long line of skinny men waiting in the afternoon as food is distributed from large pots.

Banco de Tokyo

Tocoron is structured in sectors. The closer you are to the center, the better the amenities. So you have cabins with or without air conditioning, and with or without TV. If you do very well, you can have a store on the main street, with an adjoining bedroom.

There is a bank: the Banco de Tokyo. Prisoners who want to transfer money can have it done to one of the many accounts of Niño's henchmen. After deducting a 10 percent commission, you can collect your money. Borrowing money is also possible, at interest rates between 10 and 20 percent. But oh woe if you pay back late.

Joris and I had decided that it was not smart to walk into prison with large piles of money. Due to the massive inflation in Venezuela, 100 dollars is worth 430,000 bolivars today (now even 600,000). Recently there have been new banknotes up to and including a value of 20,000 bolivar; however, these are nowhere to be had. The largest bill available has a value of 100 bolivar. Instead of putting over 4,000 bills in a backpack, we decided to bring dollars. As we had been told, we had these exchanged in no time at a good rate within the walls of Tocoron.

Together with our fixers, we do a tour of the prison. One of the fixers has been stuck here and knows many people inside the walls. With every turn we make, I see photographer Joris' amazement increase. Besides the pool, playground equipment and shopping, Tocoron has plenty of other amenities. For example, there are bars and Tocoron has the most famous disco in the region: Disco Tokyo. Famous artists from home and abroad perform there, and there is even airtime purchased on the radio to announce the next party. Currently, the disco is being renovated; from what I understand, the just-new marble floor is being replaced with a lighted floor.

Corrupt arms deal

A little further on we walk into the zoo. While the inhabitants of the zoo in capital Caracas are starving, here we see the opposite. A wide assortment of animals, including flamingos, monkeys and a panther live in a well-maintained area on the north side of the prison. Food is plentiful, day and night inmates keep busy caring for the animals. A new arena has been built in the zoo for cockfighting, and further along is a stable with competition horses.

Cockfights also regularly break out in Tocoron.

Through the pigsties, we walk past the baseball field to one of the prison's quarters. It is a coming and going of motorcycles, a mode of transportation available only to Niño Guerrero's henchmen. Small houses made of plywood form a kind of slum here. This is still the better part of the prison. Entering one of the houses, we enter a small room with a double bed. White A4s make up the wallpaper, the roof is neatly sealed with a system ceiling. It is cool, the air conditioning is on, a music program is on television.

With the weapons and grenades on hand, Niño and his crew can win a small war

Back downtown, Joris and I, over a beer, talk about what we've seen. "I actually feel safer inside the prison walls than outside," Joris says. Indeed, at first glance, it seems that the gigantic crisis currently plaguing Venezuela is passing Tocoron by. Developments continue apace. Food is plentiful and everything functions. You would almost forget that you are not in a resort, but in one of the country's most notorious prisons. Hundreds of people die there every year. In fact, a day after our visit, three bodies are found at the gate of the prison. And a week later another one.

Empire

To maintain order, Niño Guerrero's henchmen are armed with modern, sometimes automatic weapons. In a corrupt arms deal with the government in 2014, more than 1,400 weapons were turned in. For that, at least as many more modern ones were returned through the back door. With the weapons and grenades on hand, Niño and his crew can win a small war. In addition, Niño has a court in his prison, of which he is the judge. While Venezuela does not have the death penalty, in the court of The Warrior Child, that is different. We are shown gruesome pictures of lifeless people from various prisoners, some mutilated before they were murdered.

Niño and his men live a safe distance away at the edge of the prison. His home appears to be fully equipped and is guarded 24/7. Niño's revenue comes not only from cell rental fees, but also from a commission on restaurant and bar sales, gambling revenue, his bank, extortion, drug trafficking and theft. According to officials, 90 percent of crime in the region has a link to the prison. It even goes so far that a carjacking victim will get a call from Tocoron a few hours after his car is stolen with the amount of the ransom to get the car back. The victim may then come and pay this off inside the gates of the prison, after which he or she will get back the location of the car as well as the key. The price to get your stolen car back is between one and seven monthly wages, depending on how new it is.

It is difficult to estimate how much Niño Geurerro's empire is worth. A rough calculation tells us that at the current rate he is bringing in around 200 million bolivars with the rent payments alone, or nearly 2,000 regular monthly wages. The rent payments are just the tip of the iceberg.

Greetings from The Warrior Child

After talking to some people and walking around a bit, we decide it's a good time to go. On going out, the major who took our belongings does not want to give them back. A plea from our fixer does not help. Even offering money, something that is the order of the day in Venezuela, offers no relief.

A prison with a zoo, anything is possible in Tocoron.

To still try to get our cameras and other belongings back, we try to get in touch with the Guardia National outside the gate. A phone call to inmates inside Tocoron offers relief after a few hours. In the evening, when we are back in Maracay, the redeeming call comes: 'Your stuff is no longer with the major but in the prison.' The next morning we can come and pick it up.

Early the next morning, we drive back to Tocoron. And lo and behold, after an hour of waiting, an accomplice of Niño Guerrero walks out of the gate of the prison with our shoulder bag. Everything is still in it. What that cost us? Nothing, courtesy of The Warrior Child.

 

PHOTOGRAPHY JORIS VAN GENNIP AND MICHEL BALJET

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From unemployed hipster to UN Security Council member

Maria Gabriela Chavéz, the daughter of Hugo Chavéz, was recently appointed to the 15-member UN Security Council. This is the first job in Maria's life. How did Maria go from party girl, to member of the UN?

Maria Gabriela Chavéz (34), born March 12, 1980, is one of the five children of former President of Venezuela Hugo Chavéz. In the years before Chavéz's death from cancer, Maria was considered a "First Lady. She had a leading role in Chavéz's life. Maria, who dropped out of her first degree program for unknown reasons, then finished studying journalism. She spent the rest of her 34-year existence living her Paris Hilton-like hipster lifestyle with world travel and partying. As of Jan. 1, she is part of the UN Security Council -as one of 15 members- and will spend the next two years co-deciding on issues such as Ukraine, ISIS and terrorism.

The rice queen

Uncontroversial Maria is not. Most recently, she was linked to import corruption from Argentina, earning her the nickname "the rice queen. By keeping the price of imported rice artificially extremely high, she is said to have made millions while Venezuela's food shortages mount. There are voices saying that one of the reasons for her appointment to UN is the additional diplomatic immunity she gains from her position.

Her home, the palace

Image: Instagram

Unlike Jacqueline Kennedy (wife of assassinated President J.F. Kennedy), who left the White House within two weeks of the assassination (without having an alternate home address), Maria has continued to live in the presidential palace "La Carsona. As a result, current President Maduro lives in the vice president's house on an army base.

While Venezuela is burdened by huge deficits, hyperinflation and growing crime, the palace where Maria is staying has a swimming pool, cinema, gym, dance hall and bowling alley. Maintenance costs are around $300,000 a month. She has been living there for more than 15 months. Several complaints have already been filed by neighbors due to noise pollution from parties held at the palace. In addition, a number of delivery services no longer want to deliver food due to unpaid bills.

Maria's sister, Rosa Chavéz, coincidentally the wife of the current vice president of Venezuela, also lives in the palace "La Carsona.

Jetset

In addition to using the palace, Maria still uses the president's private plane and the presidential security force, which numbers 5,000.

The UN Security Council consists of 15 members. 5 permanent members and 10 non-permanent members appointed for 2 years. To get on the Security Council, Venezuela has needed the support of many of the South American countries. Her seat on the Security Council will most likely be next to that of Venezuela 's arch-rival America. As recently as 2006, Chavéz made then-President Bush out to be the devil. When it became known that Chavéz was suffering from cancer, it was alleged that America gave it to him.

The power of Cuba

With close ties to Cuba, much of Maria's input is expected to come directly from the Castro family. The international studies department at the University of Venezuela recently publicly rejected Maria's appointment. In addition, many critics question whether she is the right person in the right place.

Other rumors circulating are that Maria's appointment may be a promotional ladder, as Maduro's popularity is declining considerably, to around 30 percent. Once Hugo Chavéz expressed in an interview on national television that someone from his bloodline will become the new leader of Venezuela.

Social media rock star

Maria is a rock star on Twitter and Instagram. With nearly one million followers on Twitter and large numbers of followers on Instagram, she played a big role when her father was president. Many of her tweets include selfies with celebrities, parties, pets and, of course, those with her father Hugo Chavéz. Time will tell if she is cut from the right cloth for her first job. 

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Voluntarily incarcerated in Tocoron, Venezuela's most notorious prison

Tocoron is Venezuela's most notorious prison. There are hundreds of deaths every year and really anything can be had there. Weapons, cocktails and even a crocodile can be found within the walls. I willingly allowed myself to be locked up there.

Normally, the access road to the prison that overlooks an open field is deserted. This morning, however, when I arrive with my motorcycle at 7 a.m., the road has been transformed into a veritable boulevard. I park at a sort of secure stall built up for the day and leave my helmet, phone and other belongings with the same people.

It is still early and the gate of the Tocoron prison will not open for at least another hour. Me and my fixer decide to have coffee at one of the temporarily erected restaurants.

7500 prisoners

My fixer is a Venezuelan guy around my age. He has been detained "inside" for a year a relative convicted of armed robbery. Soon he will be my guide, when I will have myself locked inside the walls of Tocoron.

Tocoron is notorious. Hundreds of people a year die there because of violence. Originally the prison was built for 900 prisoners, but today it holds more than 7,500 prisoners, spread over several areas.

To avoid hours of queuing and checking for cash, we decide to bribe the Guardia Nacional (who guards the outside of the prison). Soon, after handing over our ID, we are inside without a check. This will be the last time I see a guard today, because from this point on, guards and authorities are no longer welcome. They will even be shot if they do try to enter.

El Niño Guerrero

Tocoron is led by captives with El Niño Guerrero, or "the Pran," in charge. The feared leader has been keeping the strings tight within the walls of his city for the past several years. He is respected and even considered an icon by many.

El Niño Guerrero and the Pran are nicknames of Héctor Gabriel Guerrero Flores. On Aug. 30, 2012, he and 14 of his accomplices escaped from Tocoron. Later, he was arrested again. However, because he used a fake ID during his arrest, it took three weeks for authorities to figure out that they had already detained the country's most wanted criminal. Upon his return to Tocoron, his iconic status meant he was welcomed with open arms.

As I walk in after the Guardia checkpoint, I enter a boulevard of sorts. I pass a square with live music and a DJ, a swimming pool under construction and several restaurants, stores, bars and a dentist. In front of me, an electrical company made up of prisoners is working on an electrical pole.

Nothing in prison happens against the will of El Niño Guerrero. Therefore, should I do something stupid, it is a problem for my contact inside the walls. Therefore, I am kept under close watch and photographs are taken for me.

Pistols and machine guns

Everything you can think of is available within its walls. From food to electronics and from drugs to weapons. The latter are carried openly within the walls of Tocoron, from small pistols to large machine guns. Every now and then you will see the Pran or his brother riding by on the motorcycles imported exclusively for them.

Tocoron is considered one of the most violent prisons in Venezuela and perhaps on the continent. It soon becomes apparent, then, that the Venezuelan government's claim that all of the country's prisons are disarmed is false. Official figures of the number of deaths per year are not known, but in 2012, according to leaked figures, it would be a good 600.

Crocodile

El Niño Guerrero loves animals, so as we walk further into the prison grounds, we pass a zoo with dozens of types of animals in cages-including a crocodile-and a horse run with about six adult and two younger horses. My contact likes horses so we hang out there for a while.

Slums

The prison consists of different parts. You have the flats at the beginning of the compound, then a giant slum and finally a tent camp. Your status within the walls determines where you end up. The tent camp is actually a small prison within the prison; there is even a fence around it.

My contact lives in the slum, which doesn't really live up to its name because it is one of the better places to live. Hundreds of structures covered in plywood and corrugated iron form streets and neighborhoods. The thin wooden storage boxes in which new Bera engines are transported make up 80% of the building materials.

Three by three

As we walk through the alleys we are closely watched by the armed boys in the checkpoints. My contact's "house" is about three by three meters and is shared with another person. Besides a bed and a clothes rack, he has the luxury of a small air conditioner and a TV. In the corner of the room is a bucket that serves as a toilet, the place is damp and teeming with vermin. This will be my room for the next few nights.

The place is damp and teeming with vermin

We walk around some more and my contact introduces me to some people, shows me their baseball field and we eat something at one of the dozens of primitive restaurants. What strikes me is that even things that are hard to get outside these walls because of the crisis in Venezuela, such as shampoo, oil and bread, are sold here in abundance.

Discotheque Tokyo

Later that evening we meet up with some people I met earlier that day. We meet at Tocoron's nightclub called "Tokyo. Over some cocktails, we talk about their lives inside the walls. Some have been here for years, others are just there. Behind us, the DJ plays music, and standing inside like this, this disco is indistinguishable from a disco outside the walls.

When we go to sleep I share my bed with another while two more prisoners lie on the floor next to me. Before I fall asleep I hear some gunshots nearby. I ask myself what happened again.

Banco Nacional de Tokyo

In the morning I decide to go out before the others. In the alley I sit down among the mud on a small plastic chair. I look around and think about how dangerous it is here. What if there's a fire and what if you get really sick.

Around seven o'clock we walk again. Over breakfast, my contact tells me about the dentist, the prison bank "Banco Nacional de Tokio" and the other businesses that have sprung up on the property over the years. Within its walls, Tocoron is a self-contained city including garbage collection services, a remodeling company and an electrical maintenance company.

The brother's house

Near the entrance to the compound are two large apartment buildings. In the walls of these buildings are hundreds but hundreds of bullet holes, on the buildings armed prisoners stand guard. Most of the bullet holes occurred after a battle a few years ago between El Niño Guerrero and a rival who believed that power should be divided. In an eight-hour battle with pistols, machine guns and grenades, that rival was then eliminated.

Today the apartment is the home of El Niño Guerrero's brother. When I walk into the apartment, it begins to feel like a prison. It is dark, chilly, and the fences make it real. We are watched intently downstairs by the two inmates with machine guns who make up the first checkpoint. The more stairs we climb, the greater the scrutiny becomes. The brother lives on the top floor in a kind of cell-connected multi-room apartment. It is not the nicest place to sit in Tocoron, but then he sits there for the statement, "Only one is in charge.

Amusement Park

I am invited to a barbecue, and we walk along the promenade toward the other side of Tocoron. The promenade, meanwhile, looks more like an amusement park. Prisoners dressed as jesters, sometimes on stilts, are walking around, and balloons and other things are being sold to visitors. Behind us is a dental office, and in front of us the prisoner-run electrical company is working on wiring. A poster from the "Banco Nacional de Tocoron" explains how inmates can transfer money from outside the prison.

During the barbecue, I talk with El Niño Guerrero's father and his sons. He is proud of them. Within the walls, they garner respect and they clearly hold the power. Food and alcohol abound, there is a lot of laughter above all, business is good for El Niño.

Two days after my visit, I read in the newspaper that another person has been killed in Tocoron. Two weeks later, El Niño's brother is released.

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Photo report: Coloctive vs. CICPC (police) - The next day

On Oct. 7, a "shootout" ensued between members of a colectivo and the CICPC (police) in Caracas. This is remarkable because the colectivos never actually have a problem with the police. But that day was different. Some media did not even mention the incident others spoke of 3 or 5 dead, including the leader of the colectivos in Caracas (Odreman), who was a close friend of the politician (Serra) who died last week. Odreman predicted in a statement less than 30 minutes before his assassination what would happen that day. Residents of the apartment guarded by the colectivo speak of being robbed by the police. Reason for me to travel to Caracas yesterday to see what had really happened.

The headquarters of the colectivo is a basement of a 28-story apartment. The colectivo guards this flat; residents pay a 400 bolivar security fee per month for this purpose. The flat is a few blocks from the center of Caracas. When we arrive, the door is closed.

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Across the street the police are ready waiting for what is to come (or not)

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On the sidewalk of the bullet-hole-filled front door is still blood from the day before.

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Let's see if we can get inside to take a look behind the door.

Residents of the apartment speak of the police having robbed them of money, equipment and food during their shootout. Adults and children were allegedly beaten. They take me to show the damage. That means 28 floors by stairs because the elevator doesn't work.

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Statement of robbery :

They find a key for me to open one of the two parts of the basement. The part where some of the colectivos lived. It is indicated that here has already been partially cleaned yesterday. Still, I overtly find traces of yesterday's firefight.

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The kind of Human Rights Watch arrives. Together with this delegation, a representative of the residents, police and a colleague from Venezuelan media, we take a look behind the shot-up front door.

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Residents speak of at least 8 dead. I have not (yet) been able to get a response from the colectivo's. My gut says that this story is not over yet and that after the deceased are carried to the grave, we can expect a reaction of what happened on October 7. Why the police have changed their course of action and are targeting colectivo's like this for the first time in years remains a mystery at this point.