As a boy in El Salvador, Abrego García feared gangs, avoided recruitment
It was a prime age for gang recruitment. A Salvadoran boy who was old enough to speak into a cellphone was old enough to work for a gang. Before their voices had even changed, the students knew who among them had joined.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
an hour ago
- Yahoo
Venezuelan men deported to notorious CECOT prison say they were raped and beaten by guards
Three Venezuelan men sent to the notorious prison in El Salvador by the Trump administration have alleged that they were tortured, with one claiming he was sexually assaulted, according to NBC News. The men spent four months at the Terrorism Confinement Center, known as CECOT, allegedly being subjected to beatings, leaving bruises and cuts. They also reportedly experienced psychological abuse and were denied things like food and access to bathrooms. In March, the Trump administration sent roughly 250 Venezuelan men deported from the U.S. to CECOT amid accusations that they were members of the Tren de Aragua gang, which has been rejected by many of the men as well as their families and attorneys. A prisoner swap recently saw most of the Venezuelans being held at CECOT freed. The three men who spoke to NBC News were released and taken to Venezuela on July 18 as part of a prisoner swap with the U.S. Andry Hernandez Romero, 32, is a gay asylum-seeker from Venezuela. He told the network that during his time at CECOT, he was taken to solitary confinement, where staff members 'made me kneel, perform oral sex on one person, while the others groped me and touched my private parts' and 'stroked me with their batons.' He added that the guards wore masks and the room didn't have artificial light in the room, with light only coming in via a hole in the ceiling. 'I didn't want to eat. I didn't want to do absolutely anything,' he told NBC News. 'The only thing I did was stay laying down, look at the toilet, remember my family, asking myself a million questions.' Hernandez noted that if detainees attempted to complain about abuse, they would often end up being beaten by guards. The Salvadoran government has previously said it follows safety and order standards, while the CECOT director told CNN that 'the whole operation is based on strict respect for human rights.' The U.S. Department of Homeland Security pointed to the Salvadoran government for comment, telling NBC News the men were 'not U.S. citizens or under U.S. jurisdiction.' Homeland Security Assistant Secretary Tricia McLaughlin told NBC News when asked whether the U.S. would continue to send people to CECOT that 'whether it is CECOT, Alligator Alcatraz, Guantanamo Bay or another detention facility, these dangerous criminals will not be allowed to terrorize U.S. citizens.' President Donald Trump and Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem 'are using every tool available to get criminal illegal aliens off our streets and out of our country,' McLaughlin said. 'Our message is clear: Criminals are not welcome in the United States.' Last week, Neiyerver Adrian Leon Rengel was arrested outside his Texas apartment on the day he turned 27. He was deported to CECOT just two days later. He filed a complaint with DHS alleging that he 'endured physical, verbal and psychological abuse,' such as routine beatings by guards using their fists and batons. It's the first legal action against the Trump administration following the prisoner swap that saw the release of more than 250 Venezuelans from the prison. Rengel is seeking $1.3 million in damages, including allegations of wrongful detention and personal injury. The claim is the initial step towards a lawsuit. His allegations were echoed by the men who recently spoke to NBC. 'Our daily bread there as Venezuelans were beatings, threats. For whatever circumstance,' Hernandez told NBC News. 'If you answer an official, they hit you. ... If you talk, they hit you.' 'Every time they went to hit a large group outside, they would put us in the required position so we couldn't see,' he added. 'And to hear the moans, to hear how they were hitting the people was also very heavy.' Andry Blanco Bonilla, 40, said he and other Venezuelans were verbally, psychologically and physically abused from the first day at CECOT. 'There were so many moments of anguish and terror,' he told NBC News in Spanish. 'I feared for my life.' He added that when they arrived at the megaprison, they were shackled tightly at the ankles, leading to cuts and bruises from walking. Punishments included being denied food and being prevented bathroom access. Blanco Bonilla, an asylum seeker, said a prison official told the detainees, 'Welcome to CECOT. Welcome to hell.' 'You will not be leaving here. Your days are over,' the official added, according to the former detainee. 'They tried to avoid hitting our faces. They kicked us in the back or ribs,' he told NBC News. 'When they made us get on our knees, they would step on our toes with their boots. They hit us with batons, they hit us on the head.' He said he was seen by a prison doctor who asked him why he had been hitting himself. Jerce Reyes, 36, told the network that one guard urged detainees to 'commit suicide.' 'This is how your whole nightmare ends,' the guard said. 'I did think about committing suicide at some point. But I thought about my two daughters, I thought about my family,' said Reyes.
Yahoo
5 hours ago
- Yahoo
Three Venezuelan men who the Trump administration sent to a notorious prison in El Salvador said they experienced physical and psychological torture.
Three Venezuelan men told NBC News they experienced physical and psychological torture, including one man's allegation that he was sexually assaulted, after the Trump administration sent them to a notorious prison in El Salvador. The men were held for four months in the Terrorism Confinement Center, or CECOT, a Salvadoran megaprison known for its harsh conditions and reported abuse. The allegations included beatings that left bruises and cuts, psychological abuse and the denial of necessities such as food or bathroom access. The Trump administration sent about 250 Venezuelan men to CECOT in March and has accused them of being members of the Tren de Aragua gang. Many of the men and some of their families and attorneys have denied the claim. The men were released and flown to Venezuela on July 18 as part of a prisoner swap with the United States. Andry Hernandez Romero, a 32-year-old gay asylum-seeker from Venezuela, told NBC News that one day during his imprisonment he was taken to solitary confinement, where prison staff 'made me kneel, perform oral sex on one person, while the others groped me and touched my private parts' and 'stroked me with their batons.' He said he could not identify the guards because their faces were covered and the room did not have a lightbulb, with only a small amount of light coming in through a hole in the ceiling. Hernandez said the incident left him devastated. 'I didn't want to eat. I didn't want to do absolutely anything,' Hernandez said. 'The only thing I did was stay laying down, look at the toilet, remember my family, asking myself a million questions.' Another detainee who spoke to NBC News, Jerce Reyes, said Hernandez told him after they were released that he was sexually abused by CECOT staff. Hernandez also said on Venezuelan state media that he was sexually abused while in CECOT. 'He told us that when we arrived in Venezuela, that he suffered abuse at the hands of guards there in El Salvador,' said Reyes, referring to Hernandez's account of sexual abuse. Hernandez said he was unaware of any formal system at CECOT through which he could report the alleged abuse and that if detainees tried to complain to superiors at the prison, they would often be subjected to beatings by guards. The Salvadoran government did not immediately respond to a request for comment on Hernandez's sexual assault allegations and claims from other Venezuelan men that they were physically and psychologically abused in the prison. The government has previously said it observes safety and order standards, and the director of CECOT told CNN that 'the whole operation is based on strict respect for human rights.' In a statement, the U.S. Department of Homeland Security referred NBC News to the Salvadoran government for comment because the Venezuelan men were 'not U.S. citizens or under U.S. jurisdiction.' When asked whether the U.S. government would continue to send people to CECOT, Assistant Secretary Tricia McLaughlin said in a statement, 'whether it is CECOT, Alligator Alcatraz, Guantanamo Bay or another detention facility, these dangerous criminals will not be allowed to terrorize U.S. citizens.' The statement said that President Donald Trump and Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem 'are using every tool available to get criminal illegal aliens off our streets and out of our country. Our message is clear: Criminals are not welcome in the United States.' 'You will not be leaving here' Hernandez and others said they were repeatedly beaten by prison officials. 'Our daily bread there as Venezuelans were beatings, threats. For whatever circumstance,' Hernandez said. 'If you answer an official, they hit you. ... If you talk, they hit you.' 'Every time they went to hit a large group outside, they would put us in the required position so we couldn't see. And to hear the moans, to hear how they were hitting the people was also very heavy.' Another detainee, Andry Blanco Bonilla, 40, said he and the other Venezuelans faced verbal, psychological and physical abuse from the day they entered CECOT. 'There were so many moments of anguish and terror,' he said in Spanish. 'I feared for my life.' Blanco Bonilla said that when they first arrived at CECOT, the men were shackled so tightly at the ankles that walking 'would give us cuts and bruises.' He said the guards denied them food and access to bathrooms or showers as punishment. Blanco Bonilla, who had gone to the U.S. to seek asylum, said he would never forget the words of a prison official who told the detainees, 'Welcome to CECOT. Welcome to hell.' 'You will not be leaving here. Your days are over,' the official said, according to Blanco Bonilla. The detainees would suffer beatings as the guards saw fit, he said. 'They tried to avoid hitting our faces. They kicked us in the back or ribs,' he said. 'When they made us get on our knees, they would step on our toes with their boots. They hit us with batons, they hit us on the head.' After a beating, Blanco Bonilla said he would be brought by guards to a prison doctor, who would say to him, 'You hit yourself. How did you hit yourself?' When he tried to tell the doctor that he was beaten by prison staff, a guard would hit him with a baton in the back, Blanco Bonilla said. The doctor would then ask him again, 'How did you hit yourself?' 'I realized that if I didn't tell them what they wanted, they would keep hitting me,' he said, adding that the doctor would then make a false report about the incident. 'We are only migrants' Reyes, 36, said one of hardest moments for him was when a prison official 'encouraged us to commit suicide' and told him 'this is how your whole nightmare ends.' 'I did think about committing suicide at some point. But I thought about my two daughters, I thought about my family,' he said about his two children, ages 3 and 6. Reyes said there were days when 'we woke up and all said to ourselves, 'We aren't getting out of here.'' He said he witnessed and experienced physical aggression from CECOT guards. Reyes said he was thankful that he and other men were able to share copies of the Bible inside and motivate each other. The detainees who spoke to NBC News said they had no contact with the outside world or access to U.S. officials during the four months they were held in CECOT. Reyes did recall seeing Noem walk by when she toured CECOT in March, shortly after he and the others were sent there. She went past several cells that Salvadoran officials assured her held hardened criminals and gang members. Reyes says he wasn't told Noem was coming but remembers that day as the only day the detainees had gotten something cold to drink. He said he and others pressed their faces to the bars and saw her. 'We began screaming, 'Freedom, freedom, freedom. We are not criminals. We are only migrants,'' Reyes said. The men were sent to CECOT after Trump invoked the Alien Enemies Act in March, declaring the Venezuelan gang Tren de Aragua an invading force. Immigration officials have since used that act to deport hundreds of people without immigration hearings, alleging that they were gang members. The men who spoke to NBC News, as well as the families of former detainees and their attorneys, have strongly denied any ties to gangs and said they were unfairly targeted because of tattoos that may be popular in Venezuela and are unrelated to Tren de Aragua. They have also said some migrants were denied due process and a chance to defend themselves from the accusations against them. Experts have said tattoos are not closely connected with affiliation to Tren de Aragua. An official with Immigration and Customs Enforcement previously said the administration did not solely rely on tattoos to identify the men sent to CECOT as gang members. A New York Times investigation, which relied on interviews with prosecutors and law enforcement officials as well as court documents and media reports in multiple countries, found that most of the men sent to CECOT did not have criminal records in the United States or in the region. It found at least 32 of the more than 200 men faced serious criminal accusations or convictions in the United States or abroad. Very few of them appeared to have any documented evidence connecting them to Tren de Aragua. The men said their strong faith in God, love for their families and a belief that one day they would get justice helped them keep going during their most desperate moments. 'Reuniting again with my parents and children was a moment of such happiness,' Blanco Bonilla said. While the men resume life back in Venezuela, the question of whether they would ever return to the U.S. remains. During a status hearing Thursday tied to the government's use of the Alien Enemies Act, the Department of Justice said it would bring any of the men back for immigration or habeas proceedings if a 'lawful order' were issued. 'Venezuela has made assurances they'll allow us to do that,' DOJ attorney Tiberius Davis told the court. Now that they are back home with their families, the men have said they are demanding justice from Trump and Salvadoran President Nayib Bukele. On Thursday, former detainee Neiyerver Adrián Leon Rengel filed a complaint, reviewed by NBC News, against the Department of Homeland Security under the Federal Tort Claims Act, claiming he was removed from the United States unlawfully and without due process. The complaint was filed on behalf Rengel by the League of United Latin American Citizens (LULAC) and the Democracy Defenders Fund, which describes itself as a nonpartisan group that defends democratic institutions and opposes autocrats. LULAC told NBC News that it also planned to file a lawsuit and expected more lawsuits to come after that. Rengel alleged that he suffered physical, verbal and psychological abuse in CECOT and that the U.S. government could have and should have secured his release, according to the complaint. The Department of Homeland Security declined to comment on the complaint. 'We were mistreated, our rights were violated, crimes against humanity were committed,' Blanco Bonilla said. Hernandez said he and others are still working through the psychological effects of their time in CECOT. 'All 252 [of the men] are doing poorly, mentally.' 'Even though we are free, even though we are now with our families, happy and content,' he said, 'there is still a big mental block, a block that particularly I have not been able to find a way to deal with.' But despite their ongoing struggles, Hernandez said the shared experience has created a lasting sense of community among the men. 'We entered [CECOT] as 252 strangers, 252 Venezuelans, but 252 brothers came out,' Hernandez said. 'We all supported each other; we were all there in the constant fight.' If you or someone you know is in crisis, call or text 988, or go to to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. You can also call the network, previously known as the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, at 800-273-8255, or visit This article was originally published on
Yahoo
10 hours ago
- Yahoo
They were freed from a ‘torture prison' in El Salvador. This is their life now
Dozens of Venezuelan men, locked up in immigration detention centers in the United States, were abruptly flown to El Salvador in the middle of the night, shackled and gang-walked to a brutal maximum-security prison, heads shaved, and stuffed into jail cells where they lived for more than five months. They weren't allowed to speak with families or lawyers. They never stepped foot outside. Now, after finally being returned last week to Venezuela by Donald Trump's administration, they reveal traumatizing ordeals and adjust to the whiplash of arriving back in a country where many still face significant threats. In a remarkable change in the US position, Trump officials have 'obtained assurances' from Venezuela that the men will be returned to the US to continue their immigration proceedings — marking a chaotic full circle that could land them right back in the American detention centers from where they were deported. Last week's prisoner exchange appeared to mark the end of a months-long legal battle, challenging the president's use of the Alien Enemies Act to summarily deport dozens of alleged members of Venezuela's notorious Tren de Aragua gang. Trump officials had labelled these men 'worst of the worst' criminals, and 'alien enemies', who committed 'warfare' on U.S. soil. Yet the swap has set them free in Venezuela, where President Nicolas Maduro's regime is threatening to expose conditions inside El Salvador's notorious jail. And the Trump administration could be forced to return many of those men to the U.S., with Venezuela's help. The Department of Justice declined to comment. The administration is still seeking to use the Alien Enemies Act as a tool to rapidly deport immigrants as part of the president's anti-immigration agenda. It will likely be up to the U.S. Supreme Court to decide if Trump can, or if the dozens of Venezuelan deportees will get their day in court. On Monday, the Venezuelan attorney general's office said it has opened an investigation into Salvadoran president Nayib Bukele for alleged mistreatment and human rights violations against Venezuelans detained in his prison. Video produced by the Venezuelan government includes testimony of men claiming they were shot with pellet guns, beaten, deprived of food, and under constant threat of violence inside CECOT. In his proclamation invoking the Alien Enemies Act in March, Trump stated that 'all Venezuelan citizens 14 years of age or older who are members of [Tren de Aragua], are within the United States, and are not actually naturalized or lawful permanent residents of the United States are liable to be apprehended, restrained, secured, and removed as Alien Enemies.' But government officials later admitted that 'many' of those men did not have criminal records, and many were in the country with legal permission and scheduled to appear in court on their asylum claims. A top judge in Washington D.C. had ordered the Trump administration to turn planes around on March 15 after learning in an emergency lawsuit that officials were flying men to El Salvador. The administration resisted, provoking an extraordinary legal battle in which Trump himself demanded the judge's impeachment. Now, after releasing those men back to Venezuela, administration officials have told federal courts handling Alien Enemies Act cases that they are prepared to return them. Last month, District Judge James Boasberg compared their ordeal to a Kafka-esque nightmare. 'Significant evidence has come to light indicating that many of those currently entombed in CECOT have no connection to the gang and thus languish in a foreign prison on flimsy, even frivolous, accusations,' Boasberg wrote. Among them was Andry Hernandez Romero, a gay makeup artist who sought asylum in the U.S. before he was arrested, placed in an Immigration and Customs Enforcement facility, and accused of being a member of Tren de Aragua. He fled Venezuela for California in 2024, fearing persecution under Maduro's regime. He has no criminal history or gang ties, according to his family and attorneys. Romero lawfully entered California with an appointment through the CBP One app – a Joe Biden-era programme that allowed immigrants to make immigration appointments before reaching the U.S. – but was swiftly transferred to ICE custody, where officials labeled him a security risk because of his tattoos. A photojournalist captured some of the first images of deportees inside CECOT and witnessed a man identified as Romero crying out for help. In the months that followed, immigrant advocacy groups feared the worst. He is now in Venezuela. 'We have been fighting to free Andry, our other clients, and all the men from CECOT for more than four months,' according to Lindsay Toczylowski, president of Immigrant Defenders Law Center, which provided legal representation to his family. 'We are incredibly relieved that it appears most of them have been freed from the torture prison the U.S. government sent them to, and potentially may be reunited with family soon,' she said. 'But as an American, and as a lawyer who believes deeply in the rule of law and due process, my heart remains heavy.' Jerce Reyes Barrios, described by his attorneys as a professional soccer player and a youth soccer coach, fled Venezuela for the U.S. after he was arrested and 'tortured' by 'electric shocks and suffocation' for marching in demonstrations protesting Maduro, according to court documents. He registered with the CBP One app in Mexico for an appointment with an immigration officer last year, but was taken into ICE custody in San Diego, where he was accused of being a member of Tren de Aragua, largely based on his tattoos — which include a crown on a soccer ball, a tribute to his favorite club Real Madrid, according to a sworn statement from his attorney. Barrios is also expected to be among the Venezuelans freed from CECOT. Neri Alvarado was told by ICE officers that he was arrested in February for his tattoos — one of which is a rainbow-colored autism awareness ribbon with the name of his brother, who is autistic. His relatives watched him walk off a plane in Venezuela after his release from CECOT. An emotional video shows Ysqueibel Yonaiquer Penaloza Chirinos, another Venezuelan immigrant who entered the United States legally with the CBP One app, returning to his family after his release. 'We spent four months without any contact with the outside world,' Arturo Suarez told Venezuelan broadcaster teleSUR following his release. 'We were kidnapped … We got a beating for breakfast. We got a beating for lunch. We got a beating for dinner.' Court hearings in the coming weeks are expected to revisit those legal challenges now that the men are no longer in CECOT. In another Alien Enemies Act case, the Trump administration says it has 'obtained assurances' from Maduro's government that it will cooperate with court orders for Venezuelan citizens to return to the United States, if required. 'The Maduro regime will not impose obstacles to the individual's travel,' ICE official Mellissa Harper said in a sworn statement to Maryland District Judge Stephanie Gallagher on July 18. In that case, a wrongfully deported Venezuelan man identified in court documents as 'Cristian' will be returned to the United States to continue his immigration proceedings, 'should he wish to return.' The statement is a remarkable change in the government's position. In April, Gallagher ordered the government to 'facilitate' his release from El Salvador. But when ordered to cough up a status report about his condition, government attorneys essentially only told the court 'we haven't done anything and don't intend to,' Gallagher wrote in court documents. What happens next in potentially dozens of cases depends on dozens of individual and overlapping decisions after months of chaos. Some Venezuelans will file individual lawsuits or seek relief through the current legal cases winding their way through the courts, while 'others may have no desire or pathway to return to the United States, yet may still seek to pursue litigation to hold the Trump administration accountable for what they did,' according to American Immigration Council senior fellow Aaron Reichlin-Melnick. Others may fear reprisals from Maduro's regime. 'While the ultimate outcome of these cases is unknown, at least the men are free for now,' according to Reichlin-Melnick. 'As their stories of what happened in El Salvador become public, pressure will hopefully build for international accountability.' Solve the daily Crossword
