The narrow victory of the No in the plebiscite called by the president of Colombia, Juan Manuel Santos, to endorse the peace agreement reached by FARC in Havana, Cuba, represents a stop along the way, perhaps the last stop, before the internal conflict ceases. With the imminent conversations that ELN will also initiate in Quito, the relatives of the persons disappeared in the state of Barinas wonder if their relatives, alive or dead, remain in the hands of FARC.
Barinas.- Most kidnapped by FARC in Venezuela lived in Barinas, the home state of the leader of the self-styled Bolivarian revolution, Hugo Chávez.
In that province of the western plains the disappearances of young people without apparent reason increased in 2009. In that year, it was learned of the abduction of two infants. The small Ben Jing Shoung Cano, of three years of age, son of the well-known merchant of Chinese origin Leo Shoung —rescued safe and sound after remaining several days in the power of a group of Colombian and Venezuelan bandits— was perhaps the most relevant because it generated a 24-hour protest, which included the closure of stores run by Chinese and Arabs, who usually turn their backs on this kind of demonstrations when they are called by political parties.
It was a milestone in the recent history of the region. Dozens of people stood with banners in the well-known traffic circle of Cada (the old supermarket already disappeared) to demand the release of the minors. Suddenly, the community was aware of what was happening. Many young people disappeared and no one ever heard from them again. Week after week, people learnt about new cases. News came about dead youngsters. It was the same pattern.
The news was so recurrent that it stopped having an impact for some, but not for Oscar Pineda, a retiree who was then 60 years old. Over the months, Pineda would be put in charge of an NGO called Peace and Life Committee for Human Rights. He sensed something in the environment. Some would call him crazy when they saw him with his brown briefcase full of newspaper clippings and the list of each disappearance reported in the media of the region.
Pineda found that the disappearances could not only be attributed to the action of the mafia construction trade unions or to individuals who acted outside the law taking advantage of their links with the local government. Many of those disappeared ended up in the ranks of the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), who then found in the spillway of Venezuela the tranquility they did not have in their country. With the help of the United States of America, the government of President Álvaro Uribe Vélez (2002-2010) began an all-out war against the guerrillas that decimated its troops and reduced its area of ??influence.
In 2015, Pineda, always with his brown briefcase, even wanted to raise the case of the disappeared in Barinas to the Colombian ex-senator Piedad Córdova. On March 23 of that year, the leader of Movimiento Poder Ciudadano Siglo XXI, the one with the permanent turban, known for her close friendship with Hugo Chávez, was on the same plane that Pineda would board that afternoon.
There she was surrounded by glances on the way to her seat. Pineda recognized her immediately. Trying to get close to Piedad Córdova seemed easy until escorts went through. "What do you want?" They asked him. "I want to talk to the Senator about the cases of kidnappings in Barinas." When she heard, Córdova said, "Let’s talk in Caracas." She never received him.
Maybe Pineda would have shown her the photo that circulated in the newspaper De Frente (pro-government and currently out of circulation), in Barinas. It was fate that information about FARC was illustrated with an image of the AFP agency file, and that the editor at that time chose the picture. There was the lost son of a humble woman.
Wilfredo Valero Díaz was kidnapped on April 6, 2009, at age 19. It was a Monday, at 12:36 PM, when the young man was in a hairdresser near his home. Four armed men descended from a truck to take him by force. Nobody could do anything.
"We saw the picture on the newspaper and my son appeared in a military suit. I went to the Police Headquarter and spoke with Commander Cacioppo, with Governor Adán Chávez, with Mayor Abundio Sánchez. I delivered a letter to President Chávez in his hands and to date, I never had an answer about my son," recalls Zaida.
This woman received a call from a stranger telling her not to lose hope of seeing her son. She recalls that she paid Bs. 40 million (Bs. 40,000 after the monetary redenomination) for the rescue.
Seven years have passed, though the sadness remains the same. The story of her drama is moving. A few months after the disappearance of her son, depression attacked her to the point of completely losing her hair. She endured the peeling of the skin and not being able to sleep. "It was two years without being able to work. As long as I do not see him dead, to me he is alive."
The long-awaited peace agreement between the Colombian government and the FARC guerrillas is also a relief for many Venezuelan families. "I am calling on President Santos to please have peace, so we can have our relatives back. In 2009, it was not only my son. Many other mothers also experienced the pain of the disappearance of their sons. I also ask President Maduro to help us. There were many missing here and none of us have an answer."
The day after that famous picture, several radio programs mentioned this news, which removed the entrails of a city. Oscar Pineda approached the broadcaster in the state at that time, Radio Sensacional 94.7 FM (the National Telecommunications Commission would suspend it in August 2014) and offered details of what was happening in Barinas.
But Wilfredo Valero was not the only one. Many cases were reported, the list grew every week and also the suspicions that some disappeared could be in the hands of the Colombian guerrillas.
as proof of life. Alfonso Alejandro Briceño Piña was kidnapped on January 29,
He was then 20 years old and was in the third semester of Tax Administration. He is the eldest son of Rosa Gisela Piña. She has had to cope with widowhood in the absence of Alfonso, her pillar.
"They told us to look for him by ourselves, to call the auto repair shop to declare, but we have not heard anything," she recalled. Alfonso was taken from an auto body shop very close to the Barinas Airport. Four men threatened him with a gun in front of the owner of the repair shop. That afternoon, he coincided in the business with an official from the Venezuelan Investigative and Criminal Police Corps (CICPC), who was having his car repaired.
Alfonso, very fond of showing off his little "chimonera", where chimó is prepared, a tobacco-based product, commonly used in the Andean and states and the plains) did not seem to be a potential victim of kidnapping. "Maybe they thought we had money," speculates Rosa.
Three days after, they began receiving calls daily. They described how she was dressed. They left Alfonzo's shoes at the entrance of the house. They had passwords of a debit card and they knew the day of their son's high school graduation.
That Holy Week, she gave 300 thousand bolivars, but "Alfonsito" did not appear. "They told me to leave, they asked me to go around and around via Barrancas, near La Yuca river, and to throw the money from the bridge over the highway to San José Obrero."
Seven months later, she received a call at 10:00 PM. "Mother, mother!" a voice said on the other side of the phone. Only Alfonso used to call her like that. The number showed the area code of the state of Delta Amacuro (easternmost province of Venezuela). Then, Rosa found out that the phone belonged to an inmate and had passed through several hands before she heard her son's voice.
On June 9, 2009, occurred the kidnapping of Luis José Barrios Silva, aged 19. The case was reported by his mother Livia Silva before the NGO, Peace and Life Committee for Human Rights. The incident occurred on a well-known avenue in the Municipality of Barinas, as in the case of Wilfredo, in front of the city's airport. That day, he was with his friend Adrián Arturo Moreno Rodríguez, of the same age.
they had been arrested by motorized National Guard, who asked for their IDs.
—according to Livia's story— the officials called by phone. After a while, two SUVs appeared. Around six people dressed in civilian clothes came out and talked to the youngsters. Adrián was forced into one of the vehicles and Luis was taken on the back of a motorcycle. The only witness who was at work that afternoon witnessed when they were taken away. "We do not know if they were actual officials or not."
This happened on a Tuesday. "On Friday," says Livia, "they called me at 5:00 PM. A man with Colombian accent told me that if I wanted to know about my son, we had to meet; that they had been taken by a lieutenant and four other officials. He was in a farm in San Silvestre. I had to pay," explains this woman, recalling that day when everything changed for her.
She could not communicate with that man never again, and she lost the only trace. A person of her trust went to Arauca, state of Apure (border with Colombia), and was informed that the young man had been sold to an irregular group.
Days after, she received another call with a Táchira state code and was informed that her son was going to be sold to FARC because she had not paid.
Livia talks about her visions. As a Christian woman, she has asked for revelations, some indication. "I watched a helicopter when they threw those boys in a mountainous area where there was a refrigerated truck. They put them in there."
After the publication of Wilfredo Valero’s picture, they tried to communicate with "Voces del Secuestro " (Voices of Kidnapping), the very tuned program of Herbin Hoyos that the captives listen to in the Colombian jungle. "Months after the events, I sent messages to my son, to FARC and to Noticiero de Colombia." To this day, neither the Venezuelan judicial police nor the Anti-Extortion and Kidnapping Group (GAES) have given her any news about his whereabouts.
Miletza Sosa, sister of Rodolfo Antonio Meléndez Sosa, who disappeared when he was 32 years old, on September 20, 2008, who has assumed the search from the beginning. Her messages on the social media Facebook are always a reminder of the years that go by, of the birthdays and absences of Rodolfo.
On the day of his abduction, they went to a farm thy own when they were intercepted by some officials, presumably from the Cicpc (criminal investigation police), who where in a mobile check point. Rodolfo, an uncle and his wife, his brother's girlfriend and four girls were in the car. The women were released at 11 PM and the uncle, two days later. They were all taken to a house. One of the individuals had a bracelet on one of his arms with the acronym of Front 10, which contained a rifle with a cross-flag.
"I requested a certificate of life and they never gave it to me."
The men were kept for two days on a farm in San Silvestre, municipality of Barinas. Then, they were taken out of the country through the state of Apure. Only Rodolfo remains in the hands of that group. But when they were in San Silvestre, the uncle could observe the place where they were when he had a chance to remove the bandage. Many black long boots, a nice house, with lots of logistics. A young man who was in the place told them to behave well, that nothing would happen to them, that he was also a captive. Pictures of all of them were taken.
"One month after, a man that they called "commander" got on the phone to ask for 500 million bolivars. I requested a certificate of life and they never gave it to me," explains Miletza.
There are so many cases. Andrés Eloy Blanco Fernández, 26, kidnapped on December 1, 2009, in the town of La Luz, Municipality of Bishops. The ransom was paid, but he never reached home. His parents have made unsuccessful efforts.
According to an urban legend widespread in the area during those years, he had been thrown to Pepito, the caiman, a pet of one of the powerful construction unions at that time. A protected witness gave a statement at the time, but then he retracted when he was threatened and blackmailed, and never again spoke of what happened. When he was interviewed for the first time, he even said –newspaper clipping in hand- that the young man had been murdered. But there have never been signs.
But some kidnappings extend over time, like Pedro Antonio Zambrano’s, which occurred on September 9, 2006, when he was 42 years old, a producer, originally from the town of the Municipality of Pedraza. As a certificate of life, they sent the mother a finger and then a video showing the missing tip.
Nelson Alí Sánchez, who disappeared on December 25, 2009, was 38 years old. He was engaged in the sale of fish. Six hooded men with short weapons broke into his home and took him away without saying a single word. He screamed not to take him away, that he had not done anything. The men arrived in a four-door truck, double cab, and small car.
His father, Jacinto González, would come that day to talk with the neighbors and determine if there was something strange. "Both they and I were surprised. Why did that happen to him if he was a quiet man, coming from the river with the fish?"
They never called Jacinto. The authorities remained silent. "Our hope is that the security forces bring my son alive or dead, even his bones. That’s my hope."
A couple of years ago, Oscar Pineda said in an interview with the press that the Colombian guerrillas would have at least five hostages who lived in Barinas when they were kidnapped. Today, he reiterates it and asks to write down the case of a young nurse from Táchira who had been in the hands of the guerrillas for several years. "I only remember that her name is María and her case has been reported by the state of Tachira media." Meanwhile, the days go by and the peace agreement, with its setbacks, is the flavor of the month in Colombia. But nobody gives answers to those families.
Adrián Perdomo Mata has just entered the list of sanctioned entities of the US Department of the Treasury, as president of Minerven, the state company in charge of exploring, exporting and processing precious metals, particularly gold from the Guayana mines. His arrival in office coincided with the boom in exports of Venezuelan gold to new destinations, like Turkey, to finance food imports. Behind these secretive operations is the shadow of Alex Saab and Álvaro Pulido, the main beneficiaries of the sales of food for the Local Supply and Production Committee (Clap). Perdomo worked with them before Nicolás Maduro placed him in charge of the Venezuelan gold.
Gassan Salama, a Palestinian-cause activist, born in Colombia and naturalized Panamanian, frequently posts messages supporting the Cuban and Bolivarian revolutions on his social media accounts. But that leaning is not the main sign to doubt his impartiality as an observer of the elections in Venezuela, a role he played in the contested elections whereby Nicolás Maduro ratified himself as president. In fact, Salama, an entrepreneur and politician who has carried out controversial searches for submarine wrecks in Caribbean waters, found his true treasure in the main social aid and control program of Chavismo, the Clap, for which he receives millions of euros.
While the key role of Colombian entrepreneurs Alex Saab Morán and Álvaro Pulido Vargas in the import scheme of Nicolás Maduro’s Government program has come to light, almost nothing has been said about the participation of the traders who act as suppliers from Mexico. These are economic groups that, even before doing business with Venezuela, were not alien to public controversy.
Even though there are new brands, a new physical-chemical analysis requested by Armando.Info to UCV researchers shows that the milk powder currently distributed through the Venezuelan Government's food aid program, still has poor nutritional performance that jeopardizes the health of those who consume it. In the meantime, a mysterious supplier manages to monopolize the increasing imports and sales from Mexico to Venezuela.
Turkey and the coastal emirates of the Arabian Peninsula are now the homes of companies that supply the main social -and clientelist- program of the Government of Venezuela. Although the move from Mexico and Hong Kong, seems geographically epic, the companies has not changed hands. They are still owned by Colombian entrepreneurs Alex Nain Saab Morán and Álvaro Pulido Vargas, who control since 2016 a good part of the Import of food financed with public funds. Around the world for a business.
Since the borders to Colombia and Brazil are packed and there is minimal access to foreign currency to reach other desirable destinations, crossing to Trinidad and Tobago is one of the most accessible routes for those in distress seeking to flee Venezuela. Relocating them is the business of the 'coyotes' who are based in the states of Sucre or Delta Amacuro, while cheating them is that of the boatmen, fishermen, smugglers and security forces that haunt them.
They lose their freedom as soon as they set foot on any Trinidadian beach, and their “original sin” is an alleged debt that these women can only pay by becoming sexual merchandise. They are tamed through a prior process of torture, rotation and terror, until they lose the urge to escape. The growth of these human trafficking networks is so evident that regional and parliamentary reports admit that the complicity of the island’s justice system in this machinery of deceit and violence multiplies the number of victims.
In front of the curtain of collapse of the major financial group in Portugal, José Trinidad Márquez, a native of Caracas, offered the stellar performance to his lifetime career of fraud. After swindling the high management of the bank, he’s taken refuge presumably in some part of Spain, where the press baptized him as “the golden middleman” or “the man with thousand faces”. With his well trained routine of a petroleum expert, who offers himself to try and arrange business connections with PDVSA, perfected over the course of more than two decades, he’s earned himself millions of dollars, as well as criminal accusations in various countries.
Nicolas Maduro’s main contractor was arrested last Friday, right after landing at the international airport of Cape Verde, an archipelago in the Atlantic, on the gates of Africa. It may be his penultimate trip, if he is finally deported or extradited to the United States, as U.S. authorities expect. It would be the worst of all endings after many years travelling and earning miles but, above all, millions of dollars thanks to opaque corporate structures, whereby he managed preferential currencies, public works, food supplies for the CLAPs, contracts with PDVSA, and even the trade of Venezuelan gold and coal since 2013.
A small bank in Antigua and Barbuda, but controlled by Venezuelans, is at the center of some of the financial operations of Nicolas Maduro’s regime. Created in 2008 and with a diffuse trace for years, North International Bank began to take off in 2016 when it was authorized to operate in Caracas. Since then, it has been channeling millions of dollars to and from the coffers of the revolutionary ‘nomenklatura.’
For some months now, parliament members of different opposition political parties have been offering to make informal proceedings on request before agencies like the Colombian Attorney General's Office and the United States Department of the Treasury. They issue letters of good conduct to those responsible for negotiations on the imports for CLAP combos, so that such agencies absolve or stop investigating entrepreneurs like Carlos Lizcano, a subordinate of the already sanctioned Alex Saab and Alvaro Pulido. The fact that the most active defense of the main social program and focus of corruption of the government of Nicolas Maduro comes from the heart of the National Assembly 'in contempt' is just one of the ironies of this story.
The former chavista governor of the State of Bolívar from 2004 to 2017 changed overnight from excessive media exhibitionism to low profile. His departure to Mexico completed the circle of the retirement plan he had been preparing while on civil service. He was now staying in the same country where the businesses of his daughter's husband flourished, which he had significantly fostered from his positions in Guayana. Now, with financial sanctions imposed on him by Canada and the United States, Francisco José Rangel Gómez prefers to stay under the radar.