-You made us worry. I thought I’d find you dead.

These were the words of Miguel*’s mother when they spoke on the phone, minutes after he left the Strategic and Tactical Action Directorate (DAET) of the Bolivarian National Police.

I understand that DAET used to be the headquarters of FAES (Special Forces), they just changed the name. The only thing I know is that I was in that place for less than a day and I don’t want to set foot there again.

Foro Penal reported at least 429 people arrested as of July 31 during demonstrations in recent days.

Miguel was arrested on July 29 during one of the protests that took place in Caracas. He, like many people, took to the streets of Venezuela, rejecting the results announced by the National Electoral Council (CNE). No one trusts the figures provided by the electoral body.

The electoral body, without showing disaggregated election results, announced the winner Nicolás Maduro with 51.2% of the vote. A result that is rejected by the opposition leadership and questioned by the international community. The Carter Center, an international observer invited by the CNE, has assured that the elections in Venezuela cannot be considered democratic.

the same feeling

“I couldn’t buy a motorcycle or even the shoes I needed, I worked a lot and I only had one day off a week,” he lamented on Sunday, the day of the presidential election.

Miguel did not hide his fatigue due to the socio-economic conditions he has to face every day. “On the 28th I went to vote for a change of government. Many people told me they were sure the opposition would win, so I believed. “I stayed home late into the night, and when I heard the results on TV, people in my alley were very upset.”

In the community, people were crying and screaming. From afar, some could be heard shouting slogans in favor of the ruling party. He turned off the television. The messages on his phone and his WhatsApp statuses all echoed the same sentiment: anger, frustration, helplessness.

The next day, almost nothing was heard. Only a neighbor with music in the house, but otherwise the area was like January 1st.

“And so it was until midday, when the pots came back. On WhatsApp, my contacts posted videos of people protesting in different places, and I didn’t know if it was true, but since there were pots and pans clanking in my house, I joined in.

Later, around 2 p.m., his cousin texts him: “Go to YouTube to see the protests.” His thoughts returned to what Venezuela experienced in 2017.

“I didn’t go anywhere because I wasn’t allowed, but I saw children defending themselves from the guards and I remember it well.”

From silence to the noise of motorcycles, pots and pans

From his home he saw people leaving Petare and other places in protest. A friend knocked on his door.

-Let’s go on a motorcycle to the center, which is there.

He quickly got dressed and went out to his first protest.

“It was like a movie: we were riding a motorcycle down the street and saw other motorcyclists blowing their horns. The businesses were closed, and we shared addresses with people on other motorcycles,” he recalls.

They reached El Silencio, between the center and west of Caracas. There were many people on the road towards Catia and Miraflores.

“The passage was closed and the people who were there did not want to leave. “Some covered their faces, while others remained to watch what was happening.”

Moments later, Miguel recalls, the Bolivarian National Guard (GNB) and the police arrived. Also, some motorcyclists associated with the government, dressed in black.

“It was like one of those protests you see on YouTube. People throwing things, the military responding. Suddenly there were shots, my friend and I started the motorcycle and rode not that far.

One protester advised them to leave the motorcycle nearby but continue to help “because it was a common fight.”

“It got out of hand, the shots kept coming and we retreated further, but when the shooting stopped we returned to the point. They grabbed one of the hooded men. “The riots continued, they lit a fire and set up a barricade.”

Miguel’s friend revved up his motorcycle to make some noise. He got out and tried to gather things for the barricade. The place remained in this state until nightfall.

“More police and buses were arriving. “Security guards were standing in riot gear and throwing tear gas.”

He recalled that there was a moment when all the protesters ran. They were shooting at them and throwing tear gas. He was far from his friend in the crowd and did not realize that he had lost sight of him.

I tried to hide, but some hooded men grabbed me. I thought they were going to kidnap me or kill me right there. They put me in a van. There was nothing visible from the outside, and I didn’t say anything because of fear. After a while, they took me down.

You must pay to avoid being held liable.

When I arrived at the place, I already knew where it was. The command where he was taken is located in the area where he often goes.

“One of the officials looks at me and says I don’t have the face of a ‘guarimbero’, but they caught me there, so I knew I was ‘in big trouble’.”

He tried to defend himself and explain that he had not attacked anyone.

“He told me he was breaking the rules anyway. I asked him if I could call someone and he said yes, but only if I cooperated with them.

He was a little more precise and told him: you have to “get off the mule”, that is, pay something. He immediately threatened: if you do not do this, you will be held accountable for terrorism and incitement to hatred.

“How much do I owe? As for the corduroy, I have little money,” he said.

The price for freedom was $2,000 because the official was “doing well.”

“He also told me they wanted hamburgers. “They lent me a cell phone and I called my dad.”

The phone was on speaker, and he told his father everything. He asked how long it would take him to hand over the money. It was a lot. “Take care of the hamburgers first,” they said.

“I must say that during all this time they did not offend me. I was scared until my uncle brought food. “They let me have a hamburger.”

They had to deliver the money by noon on Tuesday the 30th, and they did.

The man who spoke to me on the team, I assume he is the boss there, told me not to interfere in these protests anymore, “because the stupidest people always pay.”

After his release, Miguel felt more relief, but he was afraid that they would start looking for him again. At that moment, he just wanted to rest, call his mother and think about how he would pay the $2,000.

*The reviewer’s real name has been changed to protect his or her identity.

* Author: “How to eat digital”