Venezuelan Detainees Recount El Salvador Prison Hell
“Cemetery of the Living Dead” Held 252 Amidst US Deportation Surge
Scores of Venezuelans, ensnared in a harsh anti-immigrant policy, endured brutal conditions in El Salvador’s notorious Cecot facility. Freed through a recent prisoner exchange, survivors are now detailing harrowing experiences of abuse and despair.
A Nightmare of Captivity
Reggaeton artist Arturo Suárez, known as SuarezVzla, struggled to identify the worst moment of his 125-day ordeal in the prison that guards reportedly called “a cemetery of the living dead.” He recounted inmates threatening suicide over guard brutality and a “blood strike” where prisoners used broken pipes to scrawl “SOS” messages in their own blood.
Suárez, who marked his 34th birthday within the prison walls, was one of 252 Venezuelans deported to the Central American nation. He described the dire conditions as pushing detainees to the brink, stating, “My daughter’s really little and she needs me. But we’d made up our minds. We decided to put an end to this nightmare.”
The prisoners ultimately refrained from self-harm.
Another freed detainee, 27-year-old barber Neiyerver Rengel, shared his terror after guards falsely claimed he would spend 90 years incarcerated. “I felt shattered, destroyed,”
he said, having been deported after his arrest in Irving, Texas.
Targeted and Dehumanized
Trump administration officials allegedly labeled the Venezuelans, many without criminal records, as “heinous monsters” and “terrorists.” Reports suggest many were targeted simply for their nationality and tattoos, with insufficient evidence presented.
Norman Eisen, chair of the Democracy Defenders Fund, which is supporting a lawsuit against the U.S. government on behalf of Rengel, condemned the Venezuelan deportations. “It is shocking and shameful and every patriotic American should be disgusted by it,”
Eisen commented, anticipating further legal action from other freed individuals.
A Twisted Journey to Cecot
Suárez‘s plight began in Chile, where he had relocated from Venezuela. He recalled watching a viral video of Cecot by influencer Luisito Comunica and humorously joking with his wife about a “package tour” to the prison, unaware of his impending detention.
After entering the U.S. in September 2024, Suárez worked odd jobs in North Carolina. In February, he was detained by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). In mid-March, he was placed on a deportation flight without a disclosed destination.
Upon arrival, passengers were instructed to keep blinds closed. Suárez noted that the realization of their location hit when one detainee spotted the Salvadoran flag. “That’s when we understood … where we were heading – to Cecot,”
he recounted.
“Welcome to Hell”
The arrival at Cecot was met with verbal abuse and beatings, with prisoners herded onto buses to cell block eight. The warden allegedly welcomed them with, “Welcome to hell! Welcome to the cemetery of the living dead! You’ll leave here dead!”
Suárez recounted asking a guard for help with his falling spectacles, only to be punched and have his glasses broken. “What am I doing in Cecot?”
he pondered. “I’m not a terrorist. I’ve never killed anyone. I make music.”
Rengel echoed these sentiments, recalling guards’ threats of death and lengthy imprisonment in El Salvador.

Noah Bullock, director of the human rights group Cristosal, noted that such abusive tactics appear systematic within El Salvador’s prison system, suggesting a top-down directive. “There’s clearly a culture coming from the leadership of the prison system to inculcate the guards into operating this way, [into] using dehumanising and physical abuse in a systematic way,”
he stated.
Finding Solace in Song
For 16 weeks, the Venezuelans endured early mornings, crowded cells, and relentless abuse. “There’s no life in there,”
Suárez said, crediting Bibles distributed to them for preventing suicides. “The only good thing they did for us was give us a Bible. We sought solace in God and that’s why nobody took their own life.”
Suárez composed songs, including “Cell 31,” to uplift spirits. The song became an anthem, sung by inmates in March when U.S. Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem visited Cecot.

During Noem’s visit, the prisoners shouted pleas for help, which were ignored. Rengel described a point where “we had no motivation, no strength left.”
A glimmer of hope appeared in mid-June when prisoners received basic hygiene items and new clothes, indicating preparation for release.
Truth Must Be Heard
Freed in July, Suárez is determined to share his story. “The truth must be … heard all over the world. Otherwise what they did to us will be ignored,”
he asserted. He expressed disillusionment with his former admiration for President Bukele’s campaigns, stating, “Now I realise it’s just a complete farce because how can you negotiate with human lives? How can you use human beings as bargaining chips?”
El Salvador’s government and the U.S. Department of Homeland Security did not immediately comment on the allegations. A spokesperson for the U.S. agency dismissed prisoner claims as “false sob stories.”
Suárez hopes never to return to El Salvador or the U.S. He offered forgiveness to his captors, adding, “And I hope they can forgive themselves. And realise that while they might escape the justice of man they will never be able to escape divine justice.”