Brutal Treatment Revealed: Three Venezuelan Men Share Their Harrowing Experience of Torture in El Salvador’s Notorious Prison

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Brutal Treatment Revealed: Three Venezuelan Men Share Their Harrowing Experience of Torture in El Salvador’s Notorious Prison

Three Venezuelan men shared their harrowing experiences with NBC News, detailing the physical and psychological torture they endured after being sent to the Terrorism Confinement Center (CECOT) in El Salvador by the Trump administration. The men claimed they faced severe abuse, including beatings and sexual assault.

Held for four months, these Venezuelans were accused of having ties to the Tren de Aragua gang—an allegation they and their families vigorously deny. They were flown back to Venezuela on July 18 as part of a prisoner swap. The story of Andry Hernandez Romero, a 32-year-old gay asylum seeker, is particularly troubling. He described being taken to solitary confinement, where guards forced him to perform sexual acts while others assaulted him. The lack of light and the guards’ hidden identities made it impossible for him to seek help.

Hernandez expressed deep emotional scars from his time in CECOT, saying, “I didn’t want to eat. I just lay there, trapped in my thoughts.” Another detainee, Jerce Reyes, echoed Hernandez’s accounts of abuse, confessing that the trauma weighed heavily on him. “This is how your whole nightmare ends,” a prison official allegedly told Reyes, even suggesting suicide.

In addition to physical violence, the detainees faced systemic neglect, including denial of food and bathroom access. Andry Blanco Bonilla, another detainee, recounted how guards disciplined them with brutal physicality. “Our daily bread there was beatings,” he said. The psychological toll was immense; Reyes reflected on days filled with hopelessness, where he and others believed they would never escape.

When Reyes saw U.S. officials pass by during a prison tour, he didn’t hold back. “We’re not criminals. We’re only migrants,” he shouted, expressing desperation as they sought recognition as individuals seeking safety, not as gang members. This sentiment is echoed by many, as experts pointed out that their tattoos—often viewed as gang identifiers—are not reliable indicators of criminal affiliations.

A recent investigation revealed that a majority of men sent to CECOT had no criminal records, contradicting the claims against them. A mere 32 out of over 200 faced serious allegations, and even those lacked strong evidence linking them to the gang. The reliance on dubious identifiers has sparked outrage and concern for due process.

Now that they are back in Venezuela, the struggle continues. Many are grappling with the aftermath of their experiences, marked by trauma and emotional scars. “Even though we are free, there’s still a big mental block,” Hernandez noted. The men are not just seeking justice for themselves; they also share a newfound bond. “We entered as strangers, but we came out as brothers,” he shared, highlighting the unexpected camaraderie formed in darkness.

As they demand answers from both the U.S. and Salvadoran governments, the implications of their stories extend beyond personal grievances. They reflect deeper systemic issues regarding migration policies, human rights, and the treatment of refugees. It’s a crucial conversation to foster, as similar stories can resonate across various nations experiencing migration crises.

For those struggling with mental health issues, resources are available. If you or someone you know needs help, contact the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988 or visit 988lifeline.org.



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