(Caracas) “People are going to find themselves facing ferocious wolves,” says Katiusca Camargo, a local figure in Petaré, a vast shantytown in eastern Caracas, fearing a violent crackdown on the eve of the large rally called by the opposition to denounce the re-election of Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro.
Twelve people, 11 civilians and one soldier, have already lost their lives in Venezuela, due to the repression of spontaneous demonstrations against this re-election, particularly in Caracas, where many of the protesters came from this immense district of 650,000 inhabitants, with its inextricable tangle of small brick or wooden houses, clinging to the hillsides.
A local figure in the San-Blas de Petaré sector, a member of NGOs and a well-known opponent of Maduro, Katiusca Camargo believes that the government wants to dissuade the population from taking to the streets before the large rally on Saturday called for by opposition leader Maria Corina Machado.
“We have dead people, wounded people, detainees, missing people… People know it. They are afraid. They know they are going to find themselves facing armed people. […] “fierce wolves,” she says. On her right forearm, she has “Resilience” tattooed.
Mme Camargo refers to the “colectivos”, pro-government paramilitaries who support the president, heir to the socialist and Bolivarian leader Hugo Chavez, and act in small commandos, without taking official orders. With a strategy aimed at sowing terror.
Fear in the city
Colectivos have set up shop in the Gloria al Pueblo Bravo (Glory to the Valiant People) market in Petaré, several witnesses say. On Tuesday, after returning from the demonstrations called for by Mr.me Machado and candidate Edmundo Gonzalez Urrutia were waiting for opposition supporters.
“They attacked those who wore white or Venezuelan jerseys, they stole motorcycles and kidnapped some people,” who were later handed over to the police, says Josumary Gomez, 32. “You think, ‘If I go out, I’m not coming back,'” she says of the upcoming protests.
But the colectivos also carried out nighttime raids on Petaré, attacking passers-by or stealing motorcycles.
They then generated a “cyber terror,” Katiusca explains. “You can’t imagine the number of messages and videos we received, saying: ‘They are here or there,’ ‘They are entering a house here.’ They were everywhere, but in fact, there was nothing. They did go to a few places, but they couldn’t be in all 2,000 sectors of Petare at once. This is psychoterrorism,” Katiusca analyses.
Under cover of anonymity, a resident of the José Félix Ribas sub-neighborhood, known to be one of the most dangerous, recounts: “They (the colectivos) put the pressure on at night. Strange guys with hoods. Not bandits from here, I know the ones from here, they were the colectivos. They intimidated people, scared them, beat them, stole motorcycles. I heard gunshots. A lot.”
The colectivos have achieved their objective: fear now reigns over the city, in Petaré.
The same resident admits: “I will not go out to demonstrate. I have a bad experience in the past. I have seen people die. It is a war, a civil war.”
“We’re going to kill so-and-so”
Protests in 2017, in particular, left around a hundred dead, triggering an investigation by the International Criminal Court (ICC).
“I participated in those protests, but when I saw that there was no solution, that there were many deaths, I decided to leave the country,” explains Miguel Becerra, a 35-year-old photographer who, like 7 million Venezuelans, emigrated to Ecuador. “I came back (in 2020) because I had hope that there would be change.”
A hope that was quickly dashed… He is already thinking about emigrating again and has not gone out since Monday and the violence: “I no longer work because the fear of going out is great. The fear of going out and suddenly coming across a group of colectivos, of being kidnapped, of being killed, of disappearing…”
A shopkeeper, also frightened, refuses to “speak: If you say one thing, one side comes, if you say another, it’s the other side that comes. There are always reprisals. The best thing? It’s to keep your mouth shut,” he assures, miming a zipper over his mouth.
After three days of business closures, life is just getting back to normal on Thursday in Petare, which until a decade ago was still considered the “most dangerous neighborhood in the world.”
“Before, it was fire here. They would tell you ‘move from there, we’re going to kill so-and-so’. They would kill you for a cap or a pair of shoes. It was worse than Pakistan, with automatic weapons and kids who could recognize different weapons by ear,” explains Alexander Camargo, 50, emphasizing that those days are not so long ago.
He jokes with friends, one of whom says she doesn’t want to go to prison for her political ideas: “The food there is not good.” As night falls on Petare, Katiusca and friends have organized a prayer at a crossroads and called a pastor.
Jhoana Padilla, 40, cries as she prays “to ask the Lord to pour out his blessings on this nation, this people and Petare. And that the vote be respected. I voted for my children, for a better future. For our daily lives.” Still emotional, she says: “These are very difficult times. I know there is fear, but there are times when that fear gives you strength to move forward.”