Latest news with #MervinYamarte
Malay Mail
2 days ago
- Politics
- Malay Mail
‘Welcome to hell': Freed migrants tell of horrors in Salvadoran jail
MARACAIBO, July 28 — Mervin Yamarte left Venezuela with his younger brother, hoping for a better life. But after a perilous jungle march, US detention, and long months in a Salvadoran jail surviving riots, beatings and fear, he has returned home a wounded and changed man. On entering the sweltering Caribbean port of Maracaibo, the first thing Yamarte did after hugging his mother and six-year-old daughter was to burn the baggy white prison shorts he wore during four months of 'hell.' 'The suffering is over now,' said the 29-year-old, enjoying a longed-for moment of catharsis. Yamarte was one of 252 Venezuelans detained in US President Donald Trump's March immigration crackdown, accused without evidence of gang activity, and deported to El Salvador's notorious Terrorism Confinement Centre, known as CECOT. Yarelis Herrera awaits the arrival of her son, Edwuar Hernandez, who was repatriated from a jail in El Salvador, at their home in Maracaibo, Venezuela, July 22, 2025. — AFP pic According to four ex-detainees interviewed by AFP, the months were marked by abuse, violence, spoiled food and legal limbo. 'You are going to die here!' heavily armed guards taunted them on arrival to the maximum security facility east of the capital San Salvador. 'Welcome to hell!' The men had their heads shaved and were issued with prison clothes: a T-shirt, shorts, socks, and white plastic clogs. Yamarte said a small tuft of hair was left at the nape of his neck, which the guards tugged at. The Venezuelans were held separately from the local prison population in 'Pavilion 8' — a building with 32 cells, each measuring about 100 square meters (1,076 square feet). Each cell — roughly the size of an average two-bedroom apartment — was designed to hold 80 prisoners. Mervin Yamarte, a Venezuelan migrant repatriated from a prison in El Salvador, is welcomed by his mother, Mercedes Yamarte, upon arrival at his home in Maracaibo, Venezuela, July 22, 2025. — AFP pic 'Carried out unconscious' Salvadoran President Nayib Bukele built the prison to house the country's most dangerous gang members in deliberately brutal conditions, drawing constant criticism from rights groups. Trump's administration paid Bukele $6 million to keep the Venezuelans behind bars. AFP has unsuccessfully requested a tour of the facility and interviews with CECOT authorities. Another prisoner, 37-year-old Maikel Olivera, recounted there were 'beatings 24 hours a day' and sadistic guards who warned, 'You are going to rot here, you're going to be in jail for 300 years.' 'I thought I would never return to Venezuela,' he said. For four months, the prisoners had no access to the internet, phone calls, visits from loved ones, or even lawyers. At least one said he was sexually abused. The men said they slept mostly on metal cots, with no mattresses to provide comfort. A tattoo on the arm of Mervin Yamarte, a Venezuelan migrant repatriated from a prison in El Salvador, is pictured during an interview with AFP at Los Pescadores neighbourhood in Maracaibo, Venezuela, July 23, 2025. — AFP pic There were several small, poorly-ventilated cells where prisoners would be locked up for 24 hours at a time for transgressions — real or imagined. 'There were fellow detainees who couldn't endure even two hours and were carried out unconscious,' Yamarte recounted. The men never saw sunlight and were allowed one shower a day at 4:00 am. If they showered out of turn, they were beaten. Andy Perozo, 30, told AFP of guards firing rubber bullets and tear gas into the cells. For a week after one of two riots that were brutally suppressed, 'they shot me every morning. It was hell for me. Every time I went to the doctor, they beat me,' he said. Edwuar Hernandez, 23, also told of being beaten at the infirmary. 'They would kick you... kicks everywhere,' he said. 'Look at the marks; I have marks, I'm all marked.' The detainees killed time playing games with dice made from bits of tortilla dough. They counted the passing days with notches on a bar of soap. Mervin Yamarte, a Venezuelan migrant repatriated from a prison in El Salvador, cries during a Christian evangelical service in Los Pescadores neighbourhood in Maracaibo, Venezuela, July 23, 2025. — AFP pic 'Out of hell' An estimated eight million Venezuelans have fled the political and economic chaos of their homeland to try to find a job in the United States that would allow them to send money home. Yamarte left in September 2023, making the weeks-long journey on foot through the Darien Gap that separates Colombia from Panama. It is unforgiving terrain that has claimed the lives of countless migrants who must brave predatory criminal gangs and wild animals. Yamarte was arrested in Dallas in March and deported three days later, without a court hearing. All 252 detainees were suddenly, and unexpectedly, freed on July 18 in a prisoner exchange deal between Caracas and Washington. Now, many are contemplating legal action. Many of the men believe they were arrested in the United States simply for sporting tattoos wrongly interpreted as proof of association with the feared Tren de Aragua gang. Yamarte has one that reads: 'Strong like Mom.' 'I am clean. I can prove it to anyone,' he said indignantly, hurt at being falsely accused of being a criminal. 'We went... to seek a better future for our families; we didn't go there to steal or kill.' (From left) Mervin Yamarte, Ringo Rincon and Edwuar Hernandez, Venezuelan migrants repatriated from a prison in El Salvador, attend a Christian evangelicals service in Los Pescadores neighbourhood in Maracaibo, Venezuela, July 23, 2025. — AFP pic Yamarte, Perozo, and Hernandez are from the same poor neighborhood of Maracaibo, where their loved ones decorated homes with balloons and banners once news broke of their release. Yamarte's mom, 46-year-old Mercedes, had prepared a special lunch of steak, mashed potatoes, and fried green plantain. At her house on Tuesday, the phone rang shortly after Yamarte's arrival. It was his brother Juan, who works in the United States without papers and moves from place to place to evade Trump's migrant dragnet. Juan told AFP he just wants to stay long enough to earn the $1,700 he needs to pay off the house he had bought for his wife and child in Venezuela. 'Every day we thought of you, every day,' Juan told his brother. 'I always had you in my mind, always, always.' 'The suffering is over now,' replied Mervin. 'We've come out of hell.' — AFP
News.com.au
3 days ago
- Politics
- News.com.au
'Welcome to hell': Freed migrants tell of horrors in Salvadoran jail
Mervin Yamarte left Venezuela with his younger brother, hoping for a better life. But after a perilous jungle march, US detention, and long months in a Salvadoran jail surviving riots, beatings and fear, he has returned home a wounded and changed man. On entering the sweltering Caribbean port of Maracaibo, the first thing Yamarte did after hugging his mother and six-year-old daughter was to burn the baggy white prison shorts he wore during four months of "hell." "The suffering is over now," said the 29-year-old, enjoying a longed-for moment of catharsis. Yamarte was one of 252 Venezuelans detained in US President Donald Trump's March immigration crackdown, accused without evidence of gang activity, and deported to El Salvador's notorious Terrorism Confinement Center, known as CECOT. According to four ex-detainees interviewed by AFP, the months were marked by abuse, violence, spoiled food and legal limbo. "You are going to die here!" heavily armed guards taunted them on arrival to the maximum security facility east of the capital San Salvador. "Welcome to hell!" The men had their heads shaved and were issued with prison clothes: a T-shirt, shorts, socks, and white plastic clogs. Yamarte said a small tuft of hair was left at the nape of his neck, which the guards tugged at. The Venezuelans were held separately from the local prison population in "Pavilion 8" -- a building with 32 cells, each measuring about 100 square meters (1,076 square feet). Each cell -- roughly the size of an average two-bedroom apartment -- was designed to hold 80 prisoners. - 'Carried out unconscious' - Salvadoran President Nayib Bukele built the prison to house the country's most dangerous gang members in deliberately brutal conditions, drawing constant criticism from rights groups. Trump's administration paid Bukele $6 million to keep the Venezuelans behind bars. AFP has unsuccessfully requested a tour of the facility and interviews with CECOT authorities. Another prisoner, 37-year-old Maikel Olivera, recounted there were "beatings 24 hours a day" and sadistic guards who warned, "You are going to rot here, you're going to be in jail for 300 years." "I thought I would never return to Venezuela," he said. For four months, the prisoners had no access to the internet, phone calls, visits from loved ones, or even lawyers. At least one said he was sexually abused. The men said they slept mostly on metal cots, with no mattresses to provide comfort. There were several small, poorly-ventilated cells where prisoners would be locked up for 24 hours at a time for transgressions -- real or imagined. "There were fellow detainees who couldn't endure even two hours and were carried out unconscious," Yamarte recounted. The men never saw sunlight and were allowed one shower a day at 4:00 am. If they showered out of turn, they were beaten. Andy Perozo, 30, told AFP of guards firing rubber bullets and tear gas into the cells. For a week after one of two riots that were brutally suppressed, "they shot me every morning. It was hell for me. Every time I went to the doctor, they beat me," he said. Edwuar Hernandez, 23, also told of being beaten at the infirmary. "They would kick you... kicks everywhere," he said. "Look at the marks; I have marks, I'm all marked." The detainees killed time playing games with dice made from bits of tortilla dough. They counted the passing days with notches on a bar of soap. - 'Out of hell' - An estimated eight million Venezuelans have fled the political and economic chaos of their homeland to try to find a job in the United States that would allow them to send money home. Yamarte left in September 2023, making the weeks-long journey on foot through the Darien Gap that separates Colombia from Panama. It is unforgiving terrain that has claimed the lives of countless migrants who must brave predatory criminal gangs and wild animals. Yamarte was arrested in Dallas in March and deported three days later, without a court hearing. All 252 detainees were suddenly, and unexpectedly, freed on July 18 in a prisoner exchange deal between Caracas and Washington. Now, many are contemplating legal action. Many of the men believe they were arrested in the United States simply for sporting tattoos wrongly interpreted as proof of association with the feared Tren de Aragua gang. Yamarte has one that reads: "Strong like Mom." "I am clean. I can prove it to anyone," he said indignantly, hurt at being falsely accused of being a criminal. "We went... to seek a better future for our families; we didn't go there to steal or kill." Yamarte, Perozo, and Hernandez are from the same poor neighborhood of Maracaibo, where their loved ones decorated homes with balloons and banners once news broke of their release. Yamarte's mom, 46-year-old Mercedes, had prepared a special lunch of steak, mashed potatoes, and fried green plantain. At her house on Tuesday, the phone rang shortly after Yamarte's arrival. It was his brother Juan, who works in the United States without papers and moves from place to place to evade Trump's migrant dragnet. Juan told AFP he just wants to stay long enough to earn the $1,700 he needs to pay off the house he had bought for his wife and child in Venezuela. "Every day we thought of you, every day," Juan told his brother. "I always had you in my mind, always, always." "The suffering is over now," replied Mervin. "We've come out of hell."
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Politics
- Yahoo
'Welcome to hell': Freed migrants tell of horrors in Salvadoran jail
Mervin Yamarte left Venezuela with his younger brother, hoping for a better life. But after a perilous jungle march, US detention, and long months in a Salvadoran jail surviving riots, beatings and fear, he has returned home a wounded and changed man. On entering the sweltering Caribbean port of Maracaibo, the first thing Yamarte did after hugging his mother and six-year-old daughter was to burn the baggy white prison shorts he wore during four months of "hell." "The suffering is over now," said the 29-year-old, enjoying a longed-for moment of catharsis. Yamarte was one of 252 Venezuelans detained in US President Donald Trump's March immigration crackdown, accused without evidence of gang activity, and deported to El Salvador's notorious Terrorism Confinement Center, known as CECOT. According to four ex-detainees interviewed by AFP, the months were marked by abuse, violence, spoiled food and legal limbo. "You are going to die here!" heavily armed guards taunted them on arrival to the maximum security facility east of the capital San Salvador. "Welcome to hell!" The men had their heads shaved and were issued with prison clothes: a T-shirt, shorts, socks, and white plastic clogs. Yamarte said a small tuft of hair was left at the nape of his neck, which the guards tugged at. The Venezuelans were held separately from the local prison population in "Pavilion 8" -- a building with 32 cells, each measuring about 100 square meters (1,076 square feet). Each cell -- roughly the size of an average two-bedroom apartment -- was designed to hold 80 prisoners. - 'Carried out unconscious' - Salvadoran President Nayib Bukele built the prison to house the country's most dangerous gang members in deliberately brutal conditions, drawing constant criticism from rights groups. Trump's administration paid Bukele $6 million to keep the Venezuelans behind bars. AFP has unsuccessfully requested a tour of the facility and interviews with CECOT authorities. Another prisoner, 37-year-old Maikel Olivera, recounted there were "beatings 24 hours a day" and sadistic guards who warned, "You are going to rot here, you're going to be in jail for 300 years." "I thought I would never return to Venezuela," he said. For four months, the prisoners had no access to the internet, phone calls, visits from loved ones, or even lawyers. At least one said he was sexually abused. The men said they slept mostly on metal cots, with no mattresses to provide comfort. There were several small, poorly-ventilated cells where prisoners would be locked up for 24 hours at a time for transgressions -- real or imagined. "There were fellow detainees who couldn't endure even two hours and were carried out unconscious," Yamarte recounted. The men never saw sunlight and were allowed one shower a day at 4:00 am. If they showered out of turn, they were beaten. Andy Perozo, 30, told AFP of guards firing rubber bullets and tear gas into the cells. For a week after one of two riots that were brutally suppressed, "they shot me every morning. It was hell for me. Every time I went to the doctor, they beat me," he said. Edwuar Hernandez, 23, also told of being beaten at the infirmary. "They would kick you... kicks everywhere," he said. "Look at the marks; I have marks, I'm all marked." The detainees killed time playing games with dice made from bits of tortilla dough. They counted the passing days with notches on a bar of soap. - 'Out of hell' - An estimated eight million Venezuelans have fled the political and economic chaos of their homeland to try to find a job in the United States that would allow them to send money home. Yamarte left in September 2023, making the weeks-long journey on foot through the Darien Gap that separates Colombia from Panama. It is unforgiving terrain that has claimed the lives of countless migrants who must brave predatory criminal gangs and wild animals. Yamarte was arrested in Dallas in March and deported three days later, without a court hearing. All 252 detainees were suddenly, and unexpectedly, freed on July 18 in a prisoner exchange deal between Caracas and Washington. Now, many are contemplating legal action. Many of the men believe they were arrested in the United States simply for sporting tattoos wrongly interpreted as proof of association with the feared Tren de Aragua gang. Yamarte has one that reads: "Strong like Mom." "I am clean. I can prove it to anyone," he said indignantly, hurt at being falsely accused of being a criminal. "We went... to seek a better future for our families; we didn't go there to steal or kill." Yamarte, Perozo, and Hernandez are from the same poor neighborhood of Maracaibo, where their loved ones decorated homes with balloons and banners once news broke of their release. Yamarte's mom, 46-year-old Mercedes, had prepared a special lunch of steak, mashed potatoes, and fried green plantain. At her house on Tuesday, the phone rang shortly after Yamarte's arrival. It was his brother Juan, who works in the United States without papers and moves from place to place to evade Trump's migrant dragnet. Juan told AFP he just wants to stay long enough to earn the $1,700 he needs to pay off the house he had bought for his wife and child in Venezuela. "Every day we thought of you, every day," Juan told his brother. "I always had you in my mind, always, always." "The suffering is over now," replied Mervin. "We've come out of hell." mbj-mav-jt/mlr/arb/sst
Int'l Business Times
3 days ago
- Politics
- Int'l Business Times
'Welcome To Hell': Freed Migrants Tell Of Horrors In Salvadoran Jail
Mervin Yamarte left Venezuela with his younger brother, hoping for a better life. But after a perilous jungle march, US detention, and long months in a Salvadoran jail surviving riots, beatings and fear, he has returned home a wounded and changed man. On entering the sweltering Caribbean port of Maracaibo, the first thing Yamarte did after hugging his mother and six-year-old daughter was to burn the baggy white prison shorts he wore during four months of "hell." "The suffering is over now," said the 29-year-old, enjoying a longed-for moment of catharsis. Yamarte was one of 252 Venezuelans detained in US President Donald Trump's March immigration crackdown, accused without evidence of gang activity, and deported to El Salvador's notorious Terrorism Confinement Center, known as CECOT. According to four ex-detainees interviewed by AFP, the months were marked by abuse, violence, spoiled food and legal limbo. "You are going to die here!" heavily armed guards taunted them on arrival to the maximum security facility east of the capital San Salvador. "Welcome to hell!" The men had their heads shaved and were issued with prison clothes: a T-shirt, shorts, socks, and white plastic clogs. Yamarte said a small tuft of hair was left at the nape of his neck, which the guards tugged at. The Venezuelans were held separately from the local prison population in "Pavilion 8" -- a building with 32 cells, each measuring about 100 square meters (1,076 square feet). Each cell -- roughly the size of an average two-bedroom apartment -- was designed to hold 80 prisoners. Salvadoran President Nayib Bukele built the prison to house the country's most dangerous gang members in deliberately brutal conditions, drawing constant criticism from rights groups. Trump's administration paid Bukele $6 million to keep the Venezuelans behind bars. AFP has unsuccessfully requested a tour of the facility and interviews with CECOT authorities. Another prisoner, 37-year-old Maikel Olivera, recounted there were "beatings 24 hours a day" and sadistic guards who warned, "You are going to rot here, you're going to be in jail for 300 years." "I thought I would never return to Venezuela," he said. For four months, the prisoners had no access to the internet, phone calls, visits from loved ones, or even lawyers. At least one said he was sexually abused. The men said they slept mostly on metal cots, with no mattresses to provide comfort. There were several small, poorly-ventilated cells where prisoners would be locked up for 24 hours at a time for transgressions -- real or imagined. "There were fellow detainees who couldn't endure even two hours and were carried out unconscious," Yamarte recounted. The men never saw sunlight and were allowed one shower a day at 4:00 am. If they showered out of turn, they were beaten. Andy Perozo, 30, told AFP of guards firing rubber bullets and tear gas into the cells. For a week after one of two riots that were brutally suppressed, "they shot me every morning. It was hell for me. Every time I went to the doctor, they beat me," he said. Edwuar Hernandez, 23, also told of being beaten at the infirmary. "They would kick you... kicks everywhere," he said. "Look at the marks; I have marks, I'm all marked." The detainees killed time playing games with dice made from bits of tortilla dough. They counted the passing days with notches on a bar of soap. An estimated eight million Venezuelans have fled the political and economic chaos of their homeland to try to find a job in the United States that would allow them to send money home. Yamarte left in September 2023, making the weeks-long journey on foot through the Darien Gap that separates Colombia from Panama. It is unforgiving terrain that has claimed the lives of countless migrants who must brave predatory criminal gangs and wild animals. Yamarte was arrested in Dallas in March and deported three days later, without a court hearing. All 252 detainees were suddenly, and unexpectedly, freed on July 18 in a prisoner exchange deal between Caracas and Washington. Now, many are contemplating legal action. Many of the men believe they were arrested in the United States simply for sporting tattoos wrongly interpreted as proof of association with the feared Tren de Aragua gang. Yamarte has one that reads: "Strong like Mom." "I am clean. I can prove it to anyone," he said indignantly, hurt at being falsely accused of being a criminal. "We went... to seek a better future for our families; we didn't go there to steal or kill." Yamarte, Perozo, and Hernandez are from the same poor neighborhood of Maracaibo, where their loved ones decorated homes with balloons and banners once news broke of their release. Yamarte's mom, 46-year-old Mercedes, had prepared a special lunch of steak, mashed potatoes, and fried green plantain. At her house on Tuesday, the phone rang shortly after Yamarte's arrival. It was his brother Juan, who works in the United States without papers and moves from place to place to evade Trump's migrant dragnet. Juan told AFP he just wants to stay long enough to earn the $1,700 he needs to pay off the house he had bought for his wife and child in Venezuela. "Every day we thought of you, every day," Juan told his brother. "I always had you in my mind, always, always." "The suffering is over now," replied Mervin. "We've come out of hell." Mercedes Yamarte (C), mother of Mervin Yamarte, a Venezuelan migrant repatriated from a prison in El Salvador, reacts upon his arrival while holding Mervin's daughter in her arms AFP El Salvador's President Nayib Bukele (L) built the maximum security prison known as CECOT to house the country's most dangerous gang members in deliberately brutal conditions, drawing criticism from rights groups AFP In this handout picture released by El Salvador's presidency, a Venezuelan migrant who was jailed in El Salvador gestures as he boards a plane bound for Venezuela AFP Mervin Yamarte (R), a Venezuelan migrant repatriated from a prison in El Salvador, is welcomed by his mother, Mercedes Yamarte, upon arrival at his home in Maracaibo, Venezuela AFP Edwuar Hernandez (R), a Venezuelan migrant repatriated from a prison in El Salvador, is welcomed by his family upon arrival at his home in Maracaibo, Venezuela AFP
BBC News
4 days ago
- Politics
- BBC News
'We lived through hell,' say Venezuelans released from mega-prison in El Salvador
"We lived through hell," says 29-year-old Mervin Yamarte as he steps into his mother's home, wiping away the tears and sweat drenching his face. He is one of four men from the neighbourhood of Los Pescadores in the city of Maracaibo, Venezuela, who were deported from the US to the Center for the Confinement of Terrorism (Cecot), a maximum-security jail in El returning to the White House in January, US President Donald Trump has attempted to ramp up deportations of migrants. Many of them have been sent to Cecot, on allegations of criminality, under an agreement with El Yamarte and his friends - Edwuar Hernández Herrera, Andy Perozo and Ringo Rincón - spent four months in the notorious mega-prison before being released in a prisoner exchange last four have told BBC News Mundo that during their months in captivity they were subjected to beatings and treated "like animals", including being made to eat with their BBC has approached the Salvadorean government for a response to the allegations, but has not yet received a response. Its president, Nayib Bukele, has previously denied such allegations, which have been used by the Venezuelan government to attack him amid an ongoing exchange of accusations. Venezuela is currently facing an investigation by the International Criminal Court (ICC) over allegations similar to those it is levelling at El Salvador. Migrants tortured in El Salvador, Venezuela says As part of the prisoner deal that was struck by the governments of the US, Venezuela and El Salvador, a total of 252 Venezuelans were flown from Cecot to the Venezuelan capital, Venezuelans released from Cecot in El Salvador last week were originally deported from the US under the 1798 Alien Enemies Act - a law that was written to allow the removal of individuals who are not US citizens in times of war or act was controversially invoked earlier this year by Trump as part of a sweeping effort to deport alleged gang US authorities accused the deported individuals of being members of the Venezuelan Tren de Aragua criminal gang, and argued that they were "conducting irregular warfare" in the the four deportees who spoke to BBC News Mundo in Los Pescadores have denied any links with the Tren de said they were arrested in Texas for alleged immigration offenses after mistakenly being identified as gang members because of their tattoos. In their hometown, following their incarceration in Cecot, the return of the four men was celebrated with joyous abandon. When they finally arrived at 16:15 local time on Tuesday, after a 15-hour bus journey from the capital, a noisy caravan of motorbikes sounded their horns to welcome them. "Volver a Casa" (Returning Home), a song which has become an anthem for returning Venezuelan migrants, was also blasting at full Yamarte, who worked in a tortilla factory in Texas when he was detained, was welcomed by his family at his mother's relatives had decorated the place with balloons in the yellow, blue and red of the Venezuelan flag and had bought him an array of presents - including a watch, a couple of bottles of aftershave and chocolates. But as Mr Yamarte entered the home, carrying his six-year-old daughter in his arms, he recalled the physical and psychological abuses he says he suffered at Cecot. "The prison director told us that whoever entered [the prison] would never come out," he Yamarte said the guards forced inmates to eat "like animals", using their hands while sitting on the added that they were hit "frequently" and not given anything to clean themselves Monday, Venezuela's Attorney-General, Tarek William Saab, denounced the use of "systemic torture" at Cecot, which he said included sexual abuse, daily beatings and giving inmates rotten announced Venezuela would investigate President Bukele, as well as Justice Minister Gustavo Villatoro and Head of Prisons Osiris Luna Meza, over the alleged replied on X, writing that "the Maduro regime was satisfied with the prisoner exchange, that's why they accepted it".Referring to the fact that the prisoner exchange included the release of all the US nationals held in Venezuela, Bukele added that "now they shout and are indignant, not because they disagree with the [prisoners'] treatment, but because they realise they are left without any hostages from the most powerful country in the world". Since it was opened in 2023, Cecot has come under repeated and heavy criticism by rights groups over its treatment of inmates, in particular the high number of prisoners per cell and the harsh conditions they are subjected to. Prison officials insist it meets international standards. But that is not the experience Andy Perozo said he had. "Beatings were part of the daily routine," he told BBC News Mundo at his parents' house in Los 30-year-old said he was hit by a rubber bullet near his left eye during his time at Cecot. He alleged that the prison authorities would only feed and clothe the inmates well in the immediate run-up to visits by Red Cross delegates, and in order to "take photos" that would let the prison appear in a good light. Inside El Salvador's secretive mega-prison Mr Hernández Herrera, at 23 the youngest of the four detainees from Los Pescadores, was welcomed home by his mother, Yarelis. She said she spotted her son getting off the plane at Maiquetía airport, outside Caracas, on Friday. About a dozen neighbours had gathered in front of the TV to watch the broadcast of the arrival of the two planes from El Salvador. "It was as if we were watching a football match what with all the crying and shouting," she recalled. "You'd have to be made of stone not to cry."Next to the entrance of her home, hung a poster with Mr Hernández Herrera's photo and the words "Welcome home, my love!".Below the photo, a message for him: "You know, your mother never gave up on you, nor did your family." Inside, sipping a beer, Mr Hernández Herrera said he, too, suffered "torture" inside Cecot, adding that he was "shot at" with rubber bullets four times. "The beds were metal, I didn't know if it was better to sleep or stay awake," he said, adding, "we never saw a lawyer or a judge."Mr Rincón, 39, speaking to BBC Mundo sitting with his mother and children, also said he was the victim of abuse, which he alleged started as soon as they arrived in El Salvador. "They beat us until we bled. We were hit as we were dragged off the plane, made to walk hunched over, tied up with up to five shackles."He told the BBC that he plans to lodge an official complaint about his treatment inside Cecot through the Venezuelan Attorney-General's office. Another Venezuelan man is already taking action against the US government for sending him to his own description of conditions inside the prison, Andy Perozo told BBC Mundo that the Venezuelan inmates rioted twice after finding out that one of their own had been seriously blamed one particular guard, a man the inmates dubbed "Satan", for the majority of the abuse. But when the topic of conversation turned to his children, Andy Perozo smiled. He hugged them as he posed for a group photo. "I hardly recognise them, they're so big now," he jokes. Asked about his plans for the future he said: "Not leave the country again and work."
