The Commission for Human Rights and Citizenship (Codehciu) compiled the stories of three families that have in common the disappearance of a loved one. A father, a mother and a wife who share the same feeling of uncertainty
—How do you feel about the disappearance of your son?
“I feel helpless, it’s like having your hands tied,” says the father of one of the disappeared.
People continue to go missing without any information on the reported cases. Some people think that there are no missing persons in the Orinoco Mining Arc. Others would assure that fear has translated into silence and absence. Getting to the truth of these stories can be dangerous, and not everyone is willing to run the risk.
Ernesto gave an interview to the Commission for Human Rights and Citizenship (Codehciu) to talk about the disappearance of his son. A native of the western Venezuelan state of Táchira, Ernesto has lived in Bolívar state for a long time. He is the father of three children, including Sebastián, a 22-year-old man who has been missing since October 2022.
Ernesto’s son was training to become a bodyguard. One of his dreams was to “set up a bodyguard academy.” Someone suggested he go work at the mines of El Callao until he saved enough money to make his dream come true. Thinking it was a good option, he left home on September 28, 2022. The last time he spoke with his parents, Sebastián had been in the south of Bolívar state for less than a week.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry,” he told them.
Almost three weeks and many unanswered calls later, Ernesto reported the disappearance of his son on October 20, 2022. He went to the Bureau for Scientific, Criminal and Forensic Investigations (CICPC) to file a complaint. However, the authorities have not found his whereabouts. “They are supposed to be investigating, but have been unable to do anything about [my son’s case]”. Ernesto has been offered help from different support groups, churches and organizations, but nothing has managed to bring his son back.
Just as many others think, going to the mines is not an option for Sebastián’s father, who does not want to run the risk of showing up there, inquiring, asking the wrong questions to the wrong people and reducing his chances of seeing his son alive again. He is pretty sure his son has been kidnapped and is now held “working like a slave”. He feels his hands are tied. He can only pray for him.
“We are always in prayer, praying for God to do his work and return my son safe and sound and to have mercy on the people who keep him captive,” Sebastian’s father explains.
Christmas, New Year and birthdays are the most difficult times for Sebastian’s relatives. They cannot stop life from going on, but the memory of Sebastián and the hope that he will return home is still present; it is a hope that does not fade but finds very little to feed on, only love and the unwavering desire to keep it alive.
Carolina Rodríguez, a psychologist at Codehciu, highlights the importance of psychosocial support for the relatives of disappeared persons as a form of “emotional support and to provide psychosocial strategies that will allow them to mitigate the symptoms they may be presenting.” Rodríguez affirms that family members “should have access to psychological support to reduce the levels of stress, anxiety and depression that they usually present after the disappearance and during the search for their loved ones.”
An overwhelming pain in moments of uncertainty
The disappearance of Isabel, 29, and Gerardo, 40, was reported in 2020. The couple had left Puerto Ordaz for El Dorado to carry out a sale. They decided to return two days later but their car broke down.
According to media reports, Isabel told her mother-in-law that they were waiting for another vehicle to reach her destination. That was the last time she heard from them.
Three years later, Codehciu contacted Gerardo’s mother through a phone call. The woman named Cristina answered the call with a lump in her throat caused by the sadness she feels for having gone so long without hearing from her son and her daughter-in-law. The incident hurts her a lot and visibly breaks her.
“I thank the organization for their interest, but I don’t want to answer your questions. I have nothing to add. I left that in God’s hands,” Cristina laments. The family has searched through morgues, cemeteries and hospitals in the hope of putting an end to the uncertainty.
Rodríguez explains that “being unable to bury the body of your loved one (…) has a significant impact on the process of coping with the loss, risking a complicated or prolonged mourning characterized by a state of intense apprehension or extreme feelings of longing for the disappeared person, in addition to deep emotional suffering, which creates important difficulties for everyday life.”
Families are left hurt, decomposed by pain and the lack of information, and exhausted from having no answer or institutional support. The consequences of suspended grief have broken them since enforced disappearances not only affect the individual but also the subsystems of important relationships with their spouses, parents, siblings, and other relatives; their consequences can shake the foundations of a home and disturb and afflict the community and society in general.
Migrating to the mines to survive a deep economic crisis
There is always a first time for everything. Juan Andrés’ first time at a mine was around March 2017 in Santa Elena de Uairén. He worked for six months as a miner. In all that time he experienced unpleasant things, things that no human being should experience.
Liz, his wife at the time, used to hold regular phone calls with Juan Andrés, who called at least twice a week to talk to her and her children.
“Once he told me that a person was being chopped alive in front of them because he concealed a few grams of gold,” Liz recalls.
“Another thing he told me was that the “unions” offered gold to men and women to perform sexual acts in front of everyone (…) It was like a pornographic movie but live, in front of everyone,” she added.
According to a 2022 study by the University of Zulia (2022), some of the “disciplinary” measures exercised by the leaders of mining areas include beatings, mutilation of limbs and even death by dismemberment, in clear violation of Article 3 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which establishes that “everyone has the right to life, liberty and security of person.”
At the end of the six months, Juan Andrés returned to his home in Nueva Esparta. “He came back almost in hiding and as a runaway because a friend at the mine told him that (…) they were looking for him to punish him for having rejected a woman…” his wife specified. His friends helped him escape. After the incident, he spent four months with his family and children in Nueva Esparta, until he decided to set out again in January 2018 to Santa Elena de Uairén.
Francisco, a family friend who helped raise Juan Andrés, says that: “I loved him very much, almost like a son.” Before leaving for the second time, he asked him not to go to the mines, but he packed his things and headed for Santa Elena with the aim of providing for his family. It’s been almost five years since they last spoke. His three children and wife continue to miss him.
“He never appeared again,” Francisco laments.
Liz remembers that the last time she heard his voice was the first week of December 2018. Juan Andrés had been in the mine for almost 12 months. During that call, Liz perceived something was off.
“He wanted to come. He told me that he was taking a lot of work,” she says.
Juan Andrés had promised to send his wife his account number the following day so he had enough money to buy a ticket to return home. He wanted to return to his hometown with his family and kids. However, he didn’t call again and his relatives have not heard of him since then.
His wife reported the incident to the CICPC but the officers refused to take the complaint.
“There is nothing we can do. He must have found another woman,” the officials alleged.
“If something has happened to him, we recommend you not look for him because the “union” may retaliate against you,” some people told the woman.
Liz did not sit idly by. She tried to contact the CICPC in Bolívar through Instagram, Facebook and Telegram. She received no response. She sent a message to a journalist and even though an article was published, no one contacted her with information on the whereabouts of Juan Andrés.
The Special Victims Unit of the CICPC is the security body responsible for investigating cases of disappeared persons and searching for the victims.
The principles that guide the search for disappeared persons establish that “the authorities have the duty to ensure that the victims, including their relatives, are not subject to stigmatization and other moral mistreatment or defamation that damages their dignity, reputation or good name as people, as well as those of their missing loved one.”
Several years have gone by and the anguish of his family, children and friends has not ceased.
“Not knowing about him hurts us all”. Juan Andrés’ wife remembers him as a good person and friend; “he was cheerful, resilient and smart”.
“There are very few people like him,” she confesses.
Although his children are sad because they want to see their dad again or hear from him, they have not lost hope.
“We do not lose hope that he will return and tell us Hello! How are you?” she says.
The Codehciu psychologist specialized in children and adolescents considers that the impact of the disappearance of a parental figure on a boy or girl is quite significant and can trigger “moderate to severe depressive disorders, high-risk behavior (consumption of psychoactive substances, suicidal ideation), among others.
Who is to blame?
The 2022 report on the Detailed findings of the independent international fact-finding mission on the Bolívarian Republic of Venezuela: The human rights situation in the Arco Minero del Orinoco region and other areas of the Bolívar state, recognizes that an enforced disappearance occurs when three elements are combined, including the deprivation of liberty against the will of the person or persons, and the involvement of agents of the State or of persons or groups of persons acting with the authorization, support or acquiescence of the State.
According to international standards, “as soon as the authorities in charge of the search become aware by any means or have indications that a person has been subjected to the disappearance, they must initiate search actions immediately, without any delay or and expeditiously.”
According to the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, the enforced disappearance of persons will be considered a crime against humanity when it is committed as part of a widespread attack directed against any civilian population and with knowledge of the attack.
Codehciu urges the Venezuelan State to comply with its obligation to search for a disappeared person without delay and continue this search until the fate and/or whereabouts of the disappeared person are determined with certainty.
In the same way, the Commission urges the Venezuelan State to recognize the particular vulnerability and risk faced by people who move to the mines of Bolívar state in search of better living conditions for themselves and their families; to guarantee their lives, safety, and personal integrity, and to guarantee a family’s right to know the truth about the circumstances of the disappearance of their loved ones and the right to protection and assistance.
*NOTE: The identity of the interviewees was changed for security.
Translated by José Rafael Medina
