I Am Venezuelan
And that is more than a nationality.
It is an open wound.
It is memory.
It is grief.
It is exile.
I am Venezuelan, and for more than 25 years, my country has lived under a system that took everything from us—first democracy, then security, then food… and finally, our people.
Since 1999, with the rise of Hugo Chávez, and later Nicolás Maduro, Venezuela stopped being a free republic and became a place where dissent costs you your life, your freedom, or your exile.
And the world saw it.
For years.
Mostly in silence.
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The World Has Opinions—But They Do Not Live What We live
In recent days, I have seen protests outside U.S. embassies.
Heated opinions.
Debates about sovereignty.
Many voices speaking about Venezuela without being Venezuelan.
People who watched from afar as my country was looted.
As its resources ended up in foreign hands.
As fear became official government policy.
People who are outraged today,
but who stayed silent when young Venezuelans were murdered for protesting.
I do not speak from theory.
I speak from names.
The brother of my friend Juan Francisco, Miguel Castillo, was murdered.
An innocent young man.
A family shattered by unbearable loss.
No justice. No consequences. No country to protect him.
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Exile Is Not a Choice
I have welcomed friends into my home in Panama who escaped by boat.
Days without food.
Days without bathing.
Fleeing simply for having been present at protests against the regime.
I have seen marriages torn apart.
Parents saying goodbye to their children without knowing when—or if—they would see them again.
Because staying in Venezuela often means prison, torture, or death,
even without committing a single crime.
More than 8 million Venezuelans have been forced to leave the country.
Not because we wanted to.
But because we had to.
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I Am a Journalist
And in Venezuela, press freedom does not exist.
Reporting is an act of courage.
Telling the truth is a risk.
Many colleagues have been censored, persecuted, imprisoned, or forced into exile.
Silence is not neutral.
Silence also kills.
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The Election That Gave Us a Legitimate President
On July 28, 2024, Venezuela held presidential elections.
Opposition candidate Edmundo González Urrutia, backed by María Corina Machado, represented hope for millions.
According to publicly available tallies, he won the election with at least 7,303,480 votes (67.08%),
while Nicolás Maduro obtained 3,316,142 votes (30.43%).
The results can be verified at ganovzla.com.
But power was not handed over.
Because in a dictatorship, ballots do not rule.
And the world knows this too.
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My Grief Is Also Venezuela
My husband was Canadian.
He died without ever knowing Venezuela.
We never fulfilled the dream of walking together through my country—
of showing him where I grew up,
introducing him to my people,
my history,
my roots.
My three children are Panamanian and are now growing up in Canada.
Because as much as I wanted to return,
when my husband died, going back to Venezuela was not an option.
They do not know the childhood of streets filled with laughter,
human warmth,
and spontaneous solidarity.
Today I live in a safe country, yes…
but a cold one.
Not only because of the weather,
but because of emotional distance.
And with a grieving heart,
sometimes all I long for is the Venezuelan embrace
that exile can never replace.
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This Is Not Politics. This Is Humanity
When some say that other countries “should not interfere,”
I answer from pain:
This is not ideology.
This is not left versus right.
This is a country destroyed.
This is a humanitarian emergency.
Maduro is not a legitimate president.
He is the face of a murderous narco-regime
that has destroyed entire generations.
And while the world debates sovereignty
and worries about our oil,
Venezuelans celebrate
that on January 3, 2026,
he was taken into custody to finally face justice.
The truth is simple: for more than 25 years, Venezuelans have never benefited from our own oil.
We hold the largest proven oil reserves in the world,
yet corruption and political control destroyed the industry.
Our oil was pledged, prepaid,
or handed over to allies
like Cuba, Russia, and China,
while Venezuelans endured shortages,
blackouts, and poverty.
The claim that our oil is now being “taken”
ignores a painful reality: it was already taken —
just not for the benefit of the Venezuelan people.
We know the United States will not act for free,
and we are willing to pay that price
if it means reclaiming our freedom from the narco-regime.
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I Dream of Showing My Children the Venezuela I Grew Up In
Of being able to take them.
Without fear.
So they can see how beautiful Venezuela is.
Understand why it hurts so much.
Feel the warmth of its people.
Venezuela is desert, jungle, snow, and sea.
It is dignity.
It is resistance.
It is love.
And I share this because
I am Venezuelan. 🇻🇪
