Nine mothers of the Pemón indigenous community in Gran Sabana had to travel for almost two days to get to Caracas and learn the whereabouts of their children, 13 young people arbitrarily detained and disappeared for days, under the accusation of having participated in the assault on the Mariano Montilla Jungle Infantry Brigade, located in Luepa, Gran Sabana municipality, Bolívar state. The women and their families can not understand how their lives took such an abrupt and dark turn in the blink of an eye, taking their loved ones from their ancestral territories to a prison cell in Caracas, over 500 miles away.
Felicia Pérez, a descendant of the indigenous people of Roraima and Gran Sabana, is one of the mothers who desperately traveled by bus in December 2019, and the only one who remains in Caracas; the others had to leave due to the economic and logistical difficulties of staying in the capital city. Felicia’s three children, Amilcan, Óscar, and Pantaleón Pérez, are among the arrested. She is the one in charge of bringing food to the detainees on behalf of the rest of the mothers. She is also the one seeking help, meeting with lawyers, and knocking on any door when necessary.
A little over a year has passed and Felicia still can not realize how a celebration in the Kumarakapay community, near San Francisco de Yuruaní, ended that way. The group gathered to celebrate the end of the campaign of a candidate running for the Captaincy when the young men decided to go to Arapan, located 9 miles away. Once on the road, they decided to hitchhike and were picked up by a truck. Later, they were told to get out of the vehicle and ordered to put on military uniforms at gunpoint. At that point, the night had started to fall. Once dressed, they were taken to a weapons warehouse and directed to load the guns on the truck. On their way, a soldier shot at the truck and wounded two of the young Pemon men who were taken to a primary care hospital and later detained. It was because of them that the Kumarakapay community learned what had happened. The others were abandoned further afield and disappeared for days. “From that moment, we started to wonder where our boys could be; we did not know if they were alive because no one told us anything, not even the police in our community,” recounts Felicia.
The women finally managed to learn the whereabouts of the 13 missing young men: The headquarters of the General Directorate of Military Counterintelligence (DGCIM) in Boleíta, Caracas. As with all the people arrested for political reasons in Venezuela, the young men saw their right to due process violated. They were arbitrarily detained without evidence or an arrest warrant, forcibly disappeared – one of them for 59 days – and transferred without a judicial warrant. Their relatives and the lawyers provided by the non-governmental organization Foro Penal have also denounced that the detainees were victims of cruel and inhuman treatment and torture with methods of mechanical suffocation, beatings, and deprivation of water and food, among others. They were forced to declare under torture.
We spent many days without seeing them, that was torture for us
Felicia Pérez
The suspension of courts due to the COVID-19 pandemic affected the judicial process. Between February and October 2020, there were no procedural acts in this case, and the health of the detainees deteriorated after they were arbitrarily transferred – without an order or notification to their relatives – to Rodeo II Prison, in Guatire, mainly due to the lack of drinking water and food, besides the diseases affecting the prison population in the country. On November 27, the court formally presented the charges. The young men were accused of conspiracy to commit a crime, terrorism, conspiracy against the political form, and theft of firearms or protected ammunition.
“They have not shown evidence, they have no evidence, nothing. Our boys are not terrorists. I am 52 years old, I know who my children are, they grew up with me and they are not terrorists at all. They are innocent, all of them. Some are athletes, others are musicians or craftsmen, most of us rely on farming”, says Felicia amid tears. Thanks to the support of religious organizations linked to the Catholic Church, this kind mother has been able to stay in Caracas to bring food and whatever she can collect from donations to the 13 young men, who became 12 after Salvador Franco’s death on January 3.
“The guards told us that we could bring in food for our children every day, but how are we going to do that? It is very difficult for us, they give them very little food or nothing at all. We reported this to the lawyers, and the director of the prison called us to say that if we complain again he would not allow us to visit them anymore, to which I replied: ‘Sir, your boys told us that we could bring food every day, but how can we do that? This is the reality. The problem has been transportation, we would bring food every day if it was possible, but we are far from the prison and the lack of fuel makes it difficult to get there. We cook enough food so that the 12 boys can eat for a few days”.
At times it is difficult for Felicia to recount the events without crying. She recently saw Salvador Franco die, while her three children remain behind bars in precarious conditions with other 9 people who depend on her for food and communication with the outside world. Anguish weighs on her: “They are not well, especially my oldest son, who always tells me that they are not taken out in the sun, they are not fed, some have lost a lot of weight, they are very sad and desperate. Their change is noticeable, they are no longer who they used to be. Shortly after arriving at the Rodeo II prison, they began to get sick. Five of the young indigenous men fell ill with the flu and severe stomach problems because they do not have access to drinking water and hardly any water to bathe. They are afraid of falling into malnutrition and getting sick just as Salvador did… Salvador was abandoned and forgotten by the authorities, he did not have access to medical treatment, he fell ill in June and requested a transfer to a safer place and a medical check-up to no avail. He died of pulmonary tuberculosis and malnutrition; the last few times we saw him, the other boys had to carry him… His hands were frozen, we could see that he was very ill ”.
“Despite many obstacles, we keep fighting so that the world knows that our Venezuelan brothers and sisters are suffering. I don’t want to return home empty-handed. I want to go back to the Gran Sabana with my 12 boys and reunite with our families. That is my wish and I ask you to help me spread my word because we are not well, we are suffering. I ask as a mother and on behalf of the 12 boys to free our children and allow us to return to our territory. I also elevate the petition for all political prisoners in the country and their families, they must be set free. That is my plea: justice and freedom. And that Salvador’s death does not go unpunished, just as the death of our kamarakoto brother Charly Peñaloza, from the Canaima community, who was killed in November 2018 by soldiers who posed as tourists. There must also be justice for our brothers in Santa Elena who were massacred in unknown numbers. There must be justice, all this has caused us much pain, sadness, and fear”.
Translated by José Rafael Medina
