The Venezuelan poet Lalo Yaha explains with poetry how the Latino immigrant population is blamed for everything
Originally published on Global Voices
The Venezuelan poet and singer-songwriter, Eduardo Olarte, known as Lalo Yaha, has dedicated a moving poem to the Latin immigrant population in the United States. It is a response to the recent action on migration by Donald Trump's administration.
Olarte left his home country in 2016 to escape the economic crisis. He began his new life outside Venezuela by singing on buses in Ecuador, and his perseverance led him to work as an audiovisual producer for the popular Venezuelan singer Nacho. Since then his presence on social media has been growing, at last count reaching two million followers on Instagram. In 2024, he launched his first music project, an EP with five songs under the name “Cartas a Nadie” (Letters to Nobody), and he also published his diary “El camino de mis sueños” (The road to my dreams).
In the piece “Los Migrantes” (The Immigrants), Olarte talks, in an emotional and sarcastic tone, about the difficulties that immigrants in the United States face, and the perseverance with which they tackle this adversity. From the start of his campaign, the current US President Donald Trump advocated for the need for “more severe” public policies concerning migration in a debate loaded with hate and generalizations about the migrant population, and a heavily publicized wave of round-ups and deportations. In his poem, Olarte dismantles the narrative of hate and guilt from which immigrants suffer in the United States, as well as in other regions of the world such as Europe, or even within other countries in Latin America.
Many people reacted positively to this work, leaving in the comments their hopes that they would no longer be judged by their accent and would be able to follow the “Latin American dream.”
Here you can read the poem's text, written in a sarcastic tone, and watch the artist's original video on Instagram.
La culpa es de los migrantes. No importa si somos buenos o malos, adultos o niños, o si ya aprendimos a hablar inglés y pagamos impuestos. Lo único que importa es que no somos de aquí. La culpa es de los migrantes porque no saben cumplir la promesa de que el próximo año estarán de vuelta en casa para celebrar en familia.
La culpa es de los migrantes porque saben mentir muy bien. Mienten cuando les preguntas cómo están y esconden sus jornadas laborales y su poco tiempo de bienestar detrás de un ‘todo bien’.
La culpa es de los migrantes por querer adornar un lugar que no les pertenece, por compartir su música, su alegría, su baile, su fe, con una sonrisa que molesta porque aquí nadie tiene derecho a ser feliz, aquí solo se trabaja.
Porque no saben olvidar el barrio, la calle, el clima, la playa porque sus raíces se quedaron en el lugar de donde los arrancaron porque tienen fuerza para todo, para cruzar en balsa, trepar murallas, pasar el río, esconderse por días para trabajar hasta dormidos, para soportar el frío de la ciudad y de su gente, porque saben soportar el dolor sin romperse. No hay una espalda latina que no duela, no hay talones descansados ni horas de sueño completas.
La culpa es de los migrantes porque con ellos todo sabe igual. Arepas, tamales, pupusas, habichuelas, ceviches, mates, sancochos. Todo sabe a distancia, a dolor, a sudor, a soledad. Porque con ellos todo suena igual. Salsa, merengue, cumbia, corridos, gaitas, boleros, reggaetón. Todo suena a pasión, a lucha, a libertad, a rebeldía.
La culpa es de ellos porque creen en Dios en todas sus formas y colores y lo llevan colgado en el cuello, tatuado en el brazo, colgado en la pared de la casa, o lo visitan los domingos en eso que suelen llamar día de reposo, aunque todos sepamos que en esta tierra ya nadie encuentra descanso.
La culpa también es de los hijos de los migrantes, que no logran ver en sus padres a un ciudadano de aquí, ni ven en el espejo a un ciudadano de allá, que solo reconocen la mezcla y esa mezcla sigue siendo incómoda para algunos.
No importa el nombre que tenga, democracia, dictadura, progresismo, hay leyes nuevas cada día. Los de derecha, los de izquierda y los que dicen ser del centro, los diplomáticos y los armados, los que inventan visas, los que dan las visas y los que las revocan, todos cuidando su lugar en la fábrica de distancias y en el centro todo un continente que debería mirarse como hermanos.
Y no intento defender a los que incendian y destruyen lo que funciona, pero que se juzgue el delito y no la sangre, que se condene la maldad y no el acento, que no incendien los campos tratando de quemar la plaga y terminen llevándose también consigo la buena semilla.
¿Sueño americano? No, sueño latino.
Que se pueda trabajar menos y vivir más. Que no tengamos que ocultar lo que somos. Que se pueda tramitar menos y vivir en paz.
It's the immigrants’ fault. It does not matter if we are good or bad, adults or children, or if we already learned how to speak English and pay our taxes. The only thing that matters is that we are not from here. It's the migrants’ fault because they do not know how to keep the promise that next year they will be back home to celebrate with their family.
It's the immigrants’ fault because they know how to lie really well. They lie when you ask them how they are and hide their work-filled days and the little time they have for well-being behind an “everything's fine.”
It's the immigrants’ fault for wanting to adorn a place that doesn't belong to them, for sharing their music, their joy, their dance, their faith, with a smile that provokes because here no one has the right to be happy, here they only work.
Because they can't forget the neighbourhood, the street, the climate, the beach, because their roots remain in the place from which they were torn because they have strength for everything: to cross on rafts, climb walls, cross rivers, to hide themselves for days to work in their sleep, to withstand the cold of the city and of its people, because they know how to bear pain without breaking. There isn't a Latin back that does not ache, no rested heels nor full hours of sleep.
It's the immigrants’ fault because with them everything tastes the same. Arepas, tamales, pupusas, habichuelas, ceviches, mates, sancochos. Everything tastes of distance, of pain, of sweat, of loneliness. Because with them everything sounds the same. Salsa, merengue, cumbia, corridos, gaitas, boleros, reggaeton. Everything sounds like passion, like struggle, like freedom, like rebellion.
It's their fault because they believe in god in all his forms and colors and they wear him around their necks, tattooed on their arms, hanging on the walls of their houses, or they visit him on Sundays on what is usually called the day of rest, though we all know that on this earth no one finds rest anymore.
It's also the fault of the immigrants’ children, who cannot see their parents as a citizen of here, nor see in the mirror a citizen of there, who only recognise the mixture and this mixture continues to be uncomfortable for some.
No matter what name it has, democracy, dictatorship, progressivism, there are new laws every day. Those on the right, those on the left and those who claim to be in the center, the diplomats and the armed forces, those who invent visas, those who give out visas and those who take them away, all of them looking after their place in the factory of distances and in the center an entire continent that should look at each other as brothers.
And I'm not trying to defend those who burn and destroy what works, but let the crime be judged and not the blood, let the evil be condemned and not the accent, let them not set fire to the fields trying to burn off the plague and end up taking the good seed with it as well.
American dream? No, Latin American dream.
That we might be able to work less and live more. To not have to hide who we are. To do less paperwork and live in peace.
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Hope for Venezuela is seasonal, like spring overseas
Originally published on Global Voices
Illustration by the author Elías Haig, shared with permission.
Having grown up in north-central Venezuela, with our notion of extreme cold is 15 degrees Celsius, suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), or the infamous “seasonal depression,” is one of the strangest experiences I have ever had. As a kid, I never imagined a day ending at 4:27 p.m., let alone believe that reduced daylight hours could make everything look so gray, literally and figuratively. In just a few weeks, the post-Yugoslav landscape of Mostar in Bosnia and Herzegovina changes from a picturesque cream to a more dystopian gray.
One minute, it’s September 15, and you’re happily swimming in the water with your friends, and the next, it’s October 15, and you’re grumbling under three coats. The ease with which weather can change lives never ceases to amaze me, yet this pleases me. After all, despite climate change, certainties are always appreciated. Although I never suffered from SAD growing up in Venezuela, I also had no certainties.
One day, in Venezuela, I was opening Christmas presents, the way it should be, surrounded by 25 relatives attending our family dinner. The next, I called my aunt just before she checked in at Maiquetía International Airport, trying not to cry, knowing I probably wouldn’t see her again for many years. Despite all the uncertainties surrounding me growing up, I never got used to it.
Living without knowing what will happen tomorrow is doable to a certain extent. Living knowing tomorrow is only going to get worse is not. No matter how normal it has become to see the Christmas dinner table getting smaller and smaller or how many friends I have said goodbye to, I don’t think there is any way of getting used to the pain of being Venezuelan. When I moved to Bosnia and Herzegovina in 2023, I thought the wounds would begin to heal.
What a mistake that was.
Bosnia is a country in turmoil. From the windows of my college, the United World College in Mostar, I can see the city’s central square, which has at least 1,000 bullet holes in its walls. The city remains de facto divided between Catholics and Muslims. As an international student, asking about local politics is practically impossible. When there is a soccer match, ethnic conflicts erupt into violent clashes, bringing the city to a complete standstill.
It’s impossible to forget about your own country in turmoil while in another. Swap Catholics and Muslims for chavistas (supporters of late president Hugo Chávez’ ideology) and opponents to understand how my city, Los Teques, works. If you count the number of bullet holes in Mostar city center, multiply it by two, and you will have an idea of the number of tear gas bombs that have landed in the courtyard of the building where I lived most of my life. No matter how much time passes or how much I deny it, Venezuela never leaves me.
January 10, the day set in the Venezuelan constitution as the Inauguration Day for new presidents, was the greatest proof of this. Yes, I may be suffering from SAD, but it certainly wasn’t the wind blowing at my window that kept me awake that night. Trying to explain what happened in Venezuela on January 10 is so simple that it’s hard to explain the insomnia of some thirty million souls worldwide. In literal terms, January 10 was just another day. But in reality, we lost hope. Once again.
On that day, Edmundo González, the rightful winner of the July 28 elections, was to be sworn in as the new president of Venezuela. However, this didn’t happen for a thousand reasons, and the will of more than seven million of us came to nothing. I got no sleep at all that night.
As my Venezuelan identity prevents me from putting my uncertainties and hopes aside, I refreshed X (formerly Twitter), Telegram, and WhatsApp, talked to my family, and debated with my friends. Yes, I admit, I spent the whole day hoping that something would happen and that the fog looming over my country for the last 25 years would suddenly lift. Even though this isn’t the first time we’ve been in a situation where being free was possible, or a legitimate president has been unable to take office, I was hopeful.
It’s a seasonal thing. Every now and then, an infestation of hope ends up spreading. Regardless of how many times I have tried to disengage, uninstalling all means of communication to try and forget that I care about my country, I always end up anxious. From watching planes on FlightRadar24, guessing what each private jet flying over Caracas will carry that day, to organizing outreach events wherever I am, I can’t help but be anxious and get carried away dreaming about a free Venezuela.
It feels almost as inevitable as SAD. Just like I get seasonally depressed in Mostar and can’t do anything about it, Venezuela gives me some hope, then disappoints me every time there is a political event offering some light at the end of the tunnel. I can’t avoid it. It’s a seasonal thing.
And yet, each season feels different. Whenever I get my hopes up for a better Venezuela, it seems more outrageous but necessary. With every event that appears to break the shackles around my country since before I was born, I can’t help but be mindlessly hopeful.
Unlike winter, the season of hope isn’t always the same. Winter is always cold, but hope never comes the same way twice. Sometimes, it comes from proceedings and sometimes from cryptic tweets, promising that a solution will fall from the sky, but it always comes.
While I cannot do anything about it, I go with the flow. No matter how often I am disappointed, I can’t help but believe my country will come to a resolution. It’s too tempting an opportunity to dismiss. If I don’t dismiss it, I can prepare for when I can do something.
Just like I buy vitamins and get my coats ready for winter in Mostar, I can’t help but do what I can to welcome the day our hopes become a reality. I can’t do much to get us there, but I’m doing all I can to be ready for when we are.
I do it because, just as winter passes, I believe our season will also someday come.
]]>Digital activism built an unexpected connection between the two countries in 2024
Originally published on Global Voices
Promotional images for documentary “De Macedonia con amor” from the instagram post by hacha.machete. The first one reads “a land of Mountains, beaches and hackers” while the second “Out with Maduro,” while using images from Macedonian folk festivals and combination of Macedonian Cyrillic letters and other symbols. Collages by Sandra Rodríguez, used with permission.
North Macedonia and Venezuela lie 9,400 kilometers away from each other, have different languages, and have not established diplomatic missions between them (as of January 2025). Yet, they do have tales that began with a soap opera and in more recent turns, politics and alleged hackers. In 2024, the name of one of the two countries became a symbol of digital activism in the other.
A Venezuelan telenovela (soap opera of Latin American origin) called “Kassandra,” was hugely popular in the Balkans back in 1997, during an intermission of the Yugoslav Wars. Over 150 episodes, “Kassandra” tells the story of a young woman switched at birth and raised by a Romani circus, played by Coraima Torres.
“Kassandra” was so popular that streets would empty when local TVs would show it. Quite a few people named their daughters after the main character, who was listed among top ten most popular persons in Macedonia (the other 9 were politicians). The series spawned a merchandise industry and concert tour of the crew across the region. Stickers with the soap opera characters can be found today at the Museum of Yugoslavia in Belgrade as part of exhibition of artifacts donated by ordinary people, depicting everyday lives.
Stickers from “Kassandra” and other telenovelas in the Museum of Yugoslavia in Belgrade, Serbia. The description from the donor says: “Start of brainwashing of broad masses + learning of the first words of Spanish language :).” Photo by Filip Stojanovski, used with permission.
Truth can be stranger than fiction, though. In 2024, North Macedonia popped up in the conversations of many Venezuelans and not because of its previous history.
On July 29, 2024, a day after last July's highly controversial Venezuelan presidential election, the South American country's attorney general, Tarek William Saab, accused “hackers from North Macedonia” of disrupting the local Nacional Electoral Council's (CNE) transmission systems and data, allegedly under orders from opposition leaders (Venezuela uses electronic voting in polling stations). The CNE proclaimed Nicolás Maduro the winner of the vote for the 2025–2031 presidential term.
In this video, Attorney General, Tarek William Saab condemns attack on the CNE by hackers from North Macedonia.
On July 31, Stefan Andonovski, minister of digital transformation of the Republic of North Macedonia, strongly denied Saab's accusation, while the Ministry of Interior announced that they hadn’t received a request for investigation from Venezuela. Andonovski said:
Се надевам дека освен коментарите што излегоа во јавноста и коишто ги забележавме и со внимание ги следиме, од државата, од властите во таа држава ќе има и соодветни докази за наводно вмешување на некои наши граѓани или институции од државата.
I hope that besides the comments which become public and which we noticed and follow with attention, that the state authorities [of Venezuela] would provide appropriate evidence for the alleged interference by some of our citizens or state institutions.
On the same day, Venezuelan authorities announced that they would form a special commission and “ask Russia and China to assess the cyberattack on the country’s electoral system”, but have not made public any further investigation advances on Saab's claims since.
There is no evidence that Venezuela's electoral system was the target of a cyberattack during elections last month, Jennie Lincoln, head of the Carter Center delegation that was invited to monitor the Venezuela election, told AFP on August 7, also confirming figures that give the opposition candidate victory.
Six months later, on January 10, 2025, Nicolás Maduro assumed power for a third term. At the moment of closing this article, the CNE website www.cne.gob.ve that was closed down during the elections is still not operational. Venezuelan government has not explained why CNE website is still down, nor has provided any new information about the case, or evidence that supports Maduro's proclamation.
Birth of a political meme
The alleged hacking attempt inspired the use of the term North Macedonia in three independent initiatives involving Venezuela and its Balkan counterpart: an investigative journalism piece and two citizen websites which all used variations of “hackers from North Macedonia” meme to attract public attention.
In December 2024, the Venezuelan outlet Armando.Info published an investigative article titled “The ‘hacking’ from North Macedonia was aimed at PDVSA and not at the elections,” prepared by journalists from from Venezuela and Investigative Reporting Lab from North Macedonia, joined through the Organized Crime and Corruption Reporting Project.
The investigative article details how a now-defunct bank from North Macedonia, Eurostandard Banka, allegedly received deposits of EUR 110 million from “Venezuelan clients” via “briefcase companies” opened in Skopje (the capital of North Macedonia) by former officials and contractors from Petróleos de Venezuela (PDVSA), the main state-owned oil and gas company in the South American country.
Rise of the activists providing elections data
Two Venezuelans, both residents of Barcelona (in Spain) and supporters of the opposition, Giuseppe Gangi and Luke Quintana, were riled up after the July 2024 presidential elections and the Venezuelan hacking claims. Each of them decided to build a website that presented the election-related data that the Venezuelan government failed to disclose.
Thus MacedoniaDelNorte.com (“North Macedonia dot com” in Spanish) and DeMacedoniaConAmor.com (“From Macedonia with love”) were born.
Screenshots of different parts of the front page of the website MacedoniaDelNorte.com. Fair use.
MacedoniaDelNorte.com is an open data repository independently created by the Venezuelan programmer Giuseppe Gangi to index and publish the election tallies compiled by opposition witnesses on the day of the election. The data is carefully indexed by state, city, and polling station and matched with public announcements of the tally results shown in citizen videos that verify the data uploaded by Gangi.
Screenshot of a MacedoniaDelNorte.com page showing geolocated videos provided by opposition witnesses and citizens. Fair use.
The name of the website DeMacedoniaConAmor.com or “From Macedonia with Love” references the title of the 1963 James Bond movie, “From Russia with Love,” also alluding to the close alliance between Maduro's government and the Kremlin. With a satirical touch, the website tells the story of the protests that rose up right after the election and the repressive response from the government. The website hosts a 30-minute documentary and testimonials released on January 8, 2025, two days before Maduro's inauguration.
“We recounted the key moments of the execution of the electoral fraud and the popular uprising that took place throughout the country,” its coordinator, Luken Quintana, told Global Voices. He is a content creator and coordinator of the team behind the documentary, “Hacha y Machete.”
The film “De Macedonia, con Amor” is on YouTube with English subtitles.
After they published their Macedonia-themed websites, Gangi and Quintana started to collaborate, sharing video and data resources. They are mostly self-financed, though Gangi also managed to get some support through crowdfunding.
Both activists spoke to Global Voices via WhatsApp about their creations and their links with North Macedonia.
Global Voices (GV): Did you know anything about North Macedonia before your initiative? Have you received any contact from there thus far?
Giuseppe Gangi (GG): De verdad, mi conocimiento de Macedonia del Norte antes de la mención de Tarek William Saab era limitado (a su equipo de fútbol y algunos detalles básicos). Ahora, gracias a la investigación que hice tras esa declaración, he aprendido un poco más. Lo que llamó más mi atención fue cómo el nombre del país terminó instrumentalizado en el discurso político del país. No hemos recibido contacto oficial alguno del gobierno de Macedonia o de alguna organización académica o sin fines de lucro hasta ahora.
Luken Quintana (LQ): Sabía sobre la existencia de Macedonia del Norte antes de julio de 2024, pero no he recibido contacto alguno desde el país desde entonces.
Giuseppe Gangi (GG): In truth, my knowledge of North Macedonia before Tarek William Saab's mention was limited. Now, thanks to the research I did following that declaration, I have learned a little more. What caught most of my attention was how the name of the country ended up being instrumentalized in the political discourse of Venezuela. We have not received any official word from the Macedonian government or any academic or non-profit organization so far (from other international organizations about electoral integrity).
Luken Quintana (LQ): I did know about North Macedonia's existence before last July, but no contact has been received from the country so far.
GV: Would you be open to discussing or sharing the experience of your work with Macedonians?
GG: Por supuesto, estoy totalmente dispuesto a conversar y compartir sobre nuestra experiencia con ciudadanos o instituciones de Macedonia del Morte. También creo que es importante compartir con ellos porque el gobierno venezolano los ha atacado directamente, usando su nombre como una excusa, sin una pizca sólida de evidencia. Posteriormente, cuando esa narrativa no funcionó, trataron de pasar al nombre del país por “debajo de la alfombra”. Creo que es necesario construir puentes y aclarar cualquier malentendido que pueda surgir por este ataque injustificado.
LQ: Nos encantaría hablar con instituciones o grupos locales y discutir el documental, si fuera posible. Estamos al tanto que el gobierno macedonio negó cualquier vinculación con el supuesto jaqueo al sistema electoral venezolano.
GG: Of course, I would be completely open to talking and sharing our experience with citizens, organizations or institutions from North Macedonia. I also consider it important to engage with them because the Venezuelan government has attacked them directly, using their name as an excuse, without presenting a single solid piece of evidence. Afterwards, when that narrative did not work, they tried to sweep the name of the country under the carpet. I think it is necessary to build bridges and clear up any misunderstandings arising from this unfounded attack.
LQ: We would love to speak with local institutions or groups and discuss the documentary, if possible. We are aware that the Macedonian government denied any involvement in the alleged hacking of the Venezuelan electoral system.
GV: Do you have any future perspectives you would like to share about your initiatives?
GG: Además de continuar el desarrollo y optimización del portal, estoy trabajando con diferentes organizaciones ciudadanas de otros países que me han contactado para llevar a cabo lo que hicimos en sus contextos. La idea es que los ciudadanos tengan un papel más activo en cada elección y que las herramientas tecnológicas pueden facilitar la supervisión y protección de sus democracias. Sobre mi dominio, quiero renovarlo más allá de 2025. Para mí, MacedoniadelNorte.com no sólo es una respuesta irónica, mi visión es que continúe como un punto de referencia sobre transparencia y lo que podemos lograr con compromiso ciudadano y la tecnología.
LQ: En DeMacedoniaConAmor.com, queremos continuar el uso del documental como una herramienta para difundir la verdad tanto a los venezolanos como a los ciudadanos de los países donde está nuestra diáspora, sobre las violaciones a los derechos humanos que ocurren en Venezuela, fraude electoral y terrorismo de estado, con eventos virtuales y presenciales. También queremos continuar recolectando información sobre lo que ocurrió entre el 28 y el 29 de julio y promover el debate y la memoria histórica desde un punto de vista contracultural.
GG: In addition to continuing to develop and optimize the portal, I am working with different citizen organizations from other countries that have approached me to implement what we did in their contexts. The idea is for citizens to have a more active role in each election and that technological tools facilitate the monitoring and safeguarding of their democracies. As for the domain, I intend to renew it beyond 2025. For me, MacedoniadelNorte.com is no longer just an ironic response; my vision is for it to continue to be a benchmark of transparency and an example of what can be achieved with citizen commitment and technology.
LQ: In DeMacedoniaConAmor.com, we want to keep using the documentary as a tool to disseminate the truth about what happens in Venezuela, not just among Venezuelans but also to the people of the countries our diaspora lives in about human rights violations in the country, electoral fraud and state terrorism, through online and in-person events. We want to also keep collecting information about what happened on July 28 and 29 and promoting debate and historic memory initiatives using a countercultural point of view.
Read more with Global Voices special coverage: Venezuela's fight for democracy
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The Venezuelan artist was murdered while travelling alone in early 2024. Her family seeks recognition of the gendered nature of the crime
Originally published on Global Voices
Julieta Inés Hernández Martínez. Image: Background art with photo from social media. Image Freepik.
This article was written by Dominique Maia and originally published on MigraMundo's website on October 15, 2024. An edited version is republished here on Global Voices under a partnership agreement.
In January 2024, the body of Venezuelan artist Julieta Inés Hernández Martínez was found in the municipality of Presidente Figueiredo, 124 km (77 miles) from Manaus, in Brazil’s northern Amazonas state.
Missing since December 23, 2023, Hernández had been seen for the last time when she told her family that she would spend the night in the city before continuing on to Rorainópolis, in the neighboring state of Roraima.
The disappearance sparked searches and investigations that later led to the arrest of a couple of suspects, subsequently charged by the Amazonas Police. The case shocked Brazil and Venezuela, and had a big impact online and among artistic organizations — Hernández was an active figure in social and cultural groups.
Her death still raises questions about gender violence in the Amazon region, while the struggle for the recognition of the case as femicide continues.
Who was Julieta?
A circus artist and feminist, Hernández arrived in Brazil in 2015 and, over the course of eight years, transformed her life into a real journey of movement and creativity. On social media, she presented herself as a ”nomadic migrant, doll maker, clown, and bicycle traveller.”
She also played the clown Miss Jujuba, traveling to various places in Brazil with the play “The bike journey of a single clown … alone?” Alongside her performing, Hernández also produced handicrafts, made dolls to order, and offered art workshops for children, encouraging creativity and imagination in new generations.
Part of the circus group Red Foot, which brought together artists and bike travellers, Hernández used the bicycle as a means of transport to travel around Brazil and connect with different communities.
The crime
Amazonas State Police began investigations shortly after Hernández's disappearance was reported in early January. From the information about her last known whereabouts, searches were carried out in guesthouses in the region of Presidente Figueiredo, a town of 30,668 people.
On the morning of January 5, police spoke to Thiago Agles da Silva at a shelter in the region; he stated that Hernández had spent the night there before continuing her journey. However, on the same day, a local resident found parts of the missing woman's bicycle, prompting police to question Silva, who then tried to flee.
During questioning, he and his companion, Deliomara dos Anjos Santos, gave contradictory versions of what happened until finally admitting to the crime. According to the official Valdinei Silva, Silva said he had attacked Julieta while she was sleeping to steal her phone. According to the outlet G1, after a physical struggle, the man sexually assaulted her.
During questioning, his partner confessed that she became jealous while witnessing the scene, threw alcohol on them both and set them on fire. Hernández was allegedly strangled and buried in a shallow grave. At the time, police said they suspected she may have been buried alive.
The couple were arrested on January 5. With the help of the Amazonas Military Fire Department and their sniffer dogs, Hernández's body was found in a grave in the shelter's yard, along with some belongings.
Why femicide?
Hernández's family is pushing for Brazil’s courts to recognize the crime as femicide, arguing that the violence suffered by her shows the misogynistic and xenophobic nature of the crime, given that she was a Venezuelan woman and migrant.
These efforts are being carried out in collaboration with the Brazilian Union of Women (UBM), and they highlight problems in the investigation of the case, which Amazonas’ Public Prosecutor’s Office framed as armed robbery, rape, and concealment of a corpse.
During a plenary session in Amazonas State's Legislative Assembly in June, Sophia Hernández, Julieta's sister, said that the case was closed quickly without a thorough investigation, and she questioned its classification as armed robbery resulting in death or serious harm.
She stressed that Julieta's belongings were not stolen or sold but were instead hidden to cover up the crime, which further supported their call for the courts to recognize the misogynistic and xenophobic motives behind the crime.
“Firstly, because when it is armed robbery resulting in death, it carries a lower sentence; secondly, and more importantly, it is because it was a femicide, and we cannot call a gendered crime by any other name. Julieta died as a result of being a woman, a migrant, and living a life in freedom, as we women should live,” Sophia told the outlet Amazônia Real at the time.
Denise Motta Dau, National Secretary for Fighting Violence Against Women, from the Ministry for Women, who also attended the session, said, “This crime had nothing to do with theft, but there was sexual violence, there was torture, there was cruelty, which are very explicit signs of hatred, misogyny, and xenophobia.”
In a note released on June 6, the Ministry for Women expressed support for the family's action. It stated that the ministry “recognizes the concern of Julieta's relatives and lawyers about the absence of due legal treatment of the case as a serious violation of the human rights of women and migrants.”
The ministry also said that “this reinforces the belief of Brazilian institutions that this case and those of all women who come to the justice system should not go unpunished, for [the sake of] their lives and for the right to memory.”
Brazilian law
Lawyer Carlos Nicodemos, who represents the family, also argued that there are elements in the crime that support it being characterized as femicide. “There was evidence there regarding the intention of assaulting, raping, [and] practising misogyny and xenophobia. Under our criminal legislation this is clearly a crime of femicide, which was not effectively presented by the Public Prosecutor's Office, nor accepted by the courts,” he told the media.
Nicodemos also highlighted that the case violated international human rights treaties, such as the Inter-American Convention to Prevent, Punish and Eradicate Violence Against Women, known as the “Convention of Belém do Pará” (1994), of which Brazil is a signatory.
The classification of a crime as femicide is not only a semantic or legal issue; it is about recognizing the specificity of gender violence and the social context in which it occurs.
In Brazil, since 2015, the penal code was amended by a law that defined the crime of femicide. In October of 2024, President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva passed a new law that increased the sentence for such cases to up to 40 years.
In many cases, such as Hernández's, gender violence is shaped by the discrimination and inequality that affect women, while migrants also suffer from xenophobia.
For migrant women, the struggle to have a femicide recognized as such can be even more complex. This is because they are often on the margins of systems of protection, often without access to support networks, and face more difficulties in accessing justice due to their migratory status, language barriers, and a lack of information about their rights.
Recognizing Juliet Hernández Martínez's murder as femicide could set an important precedent for dealing with other similar cases.
]]>‘January days are just special around the Caribbean’
Originally published on Global Voices
Caracas, Venezuela´s capital city, which lies about 60 km away from the Caribbean Sea. The mountain is Cerro Ávila (alternatively, Waraira Repano), a national park. Photo by César Cárdenas, used with permission.
One week into January 2025, Global Voices contributor Estefanía Salazar posted a photo in one of our group chats. Her friend César Cárdenas, a mountaineer and amateur photographer, had taken it: the craggy mountains of Cerro Ávila standing tall between the city of Caracas and the Caribbean Sea to its north. A blazing blue sky dominated the shot, broken up only by puffs of white clouds that looked as if they were in limbo, unsure of whether to stay or go.
Three days later, on January 10, Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro – whom the New York Times has called an “autocrat” – was sworn into office for a third consecutive term following last July's fraught presidential election that resulted in widespread protests and thousands being detained. All this is happening against the backdrop of the country's growing socioeconomic troubles that have spurred mass migration, and dwindling international support for Maduro thanks to sanctions from the United States, the United Kingdom and the European Union.
At the moment Salazar shared the photo, though, the issue of election fraud was not foremost in her mind. Instead, she was struck by the beauty of her homeland, which she wanted to share – maybe in some small part to change the narrative and give people a different view of the Venezuela she loves. “January days in Caracas,” she wrote – and after a Caribbean contributor shared her own photo of a shrub with regal purple flowers, added, “January days are just special around the Caribbean (their light).”
For the Caribbean and Latin America, it's not just the quality of light – it's what the light represents, especially at the start of a new year: A clean slate. Clarity of vision. Renewal. Positivity and unity. Hope, really, in the face of many issues that threaten the region, from the climate crisis to crime.
From Venezuela to the ends of the Caribbean archipelago, photographers and contributors sent in their photographs, capturing slivers of that captivating January light in our region. Perhaps they will contain enough hope and joy to not only sustain us in whatever challenges we face this year but reach some of those in the wider world — Gaza, Ukraine, Sudan — who continue to dig and find that light deep within themselves.
Venezuela
Photo of Parque José María Cartaya by Carlos Novo, used with permission.
This stunning capture of a flock of birds flying freely in the Parque José María Cartaya in eastern Caracas was taken by photographer and environmental activist Carlos Novo, who says that January light is the best for photos. No matter what darkness we face, we know deep down that there will always be a January light to look forward to.
Trinidad and Tobago
Photoset ‘January Light: A Reflection of Hope’ by Akleema Ali, used with permission.
As the year began, it got photographer Akleema Ali thinking about January light shining as a beacon of resilience and renewal, especially in the context of the country's recently imposed state of emergency: “Clouds seen from above remind us of boundless possibilities and the vastness of the world, offering a perspective of hope that rises above the everyday. Ducks by a pond bring a simple joy and the quiet rhythms of life, grounding us in the present.
“A still lake, with its flawless reflection, symbolises clarity and serenity, inviting us to pause and embrace the beauty of stillness. The warm hues of a sunset remind us of endings that give way to new beginnings, casting a glow of hope over the horizon. Through these images, may we find solace and inspiration in nature’s embrace, carrying the promise of light into the days ahead.”
Barbados
Photos of Worthing Beach, Barbados, by Margaret McEvoy, used with permission.
Photographer Margaret McEvoy sent a few gorgeous photos of the Barbadian landscape, all taken from Worthing Beach on the island's south coast. The beach borders the Graeme Hall Nature Sanctuary, Barbados's largest remaining mangrove forest, which is set to reopen this March under new ownership that aims to prioritise ecotourism and conservation.
Barbados Prime Minister Mia Mottley has been one of the Caribbean's most outspoken voices when it comes to global environmental challenges, advocating for mechanisms through which small island developing states (SIDS) can make themselves more resilient against the stark realities of the climate crisis.
Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic
A variety of birds from Spanish-speaking Caribbean territories by photographer Alexia Morales, used with permission.
Clockwise from top left, photographer Alexia Morales captured various bird species in their natural habitats (and in some wonderful light): the Hispaniolan Trogon, Dominican Republic; Stilt Sandpiper, Guayama, Puerto Rico; and Puerto Rican Lizard Cuckoo, Sabana Grande, Puerto Rico.
Each Atlantic hurricane season, Caribbean bird populations are at risk of storm threat. Additionally, shorebird populations have been declining in some regional territories because of hunting. The Caribbean is anything but a monolith, so Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic have very specific challenges, including deforestation, urban sprawl, and mass market tourism.
Adrianne Tossas, president of Birds Caribbean, noted changes in the Puerto Rican government's posture regarding the protection of mangroves, and the International Federation for Human Rights (FIDH) recently led a mission to the Dominican Republic to follow up on serious cases of “pollution and corruption that have been plaguing the country.”
Jamaica
Photos of Whitehouse, Westmoreland, Jamaica, by Heidi Savery, used with permission.
White House, a small settlement in Westmoreland Parish, situated along Jamaica's southwestern coast, is known for its fishing industry, which provides fresh seafood to people across the island.
Jamaica's capital of Kingston is the headquarters for the International Seabed Authority (ISA), which – under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea – has been given a mandate “to ensure the effective protection of the marine environment from harmful effects that may arise from deep-seabed related activities.”
As the threat of deep sea mining hangs over the world's oceans, Jamaican environmental defenders have continued campaigning against it, even as the Caribbean Sea wrestles with the dual threat of climate change and overfishing.
With every challenge, however, comes promise and possibility …
Of this shot, captured in the Green Hills area of Jamaica's stunning Blue Mountains, Savary said, “I’ve been stopped in my tracks by the beautiful winter skies. A most magical time in the tropics.”
Prominent Venezuelan human rights activist went missing on January 7
Originally published on Global Voices
Carlos Correa, prominent human rights defender. Image by Espacio Público via Flickr. CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.
How can we preserve freedom of expression in Venezuela? Thanks to the tireless work of the Venezuelan NGO Espacio Público and its director, Carlos Correa, we have two decades of solid data to answer this question. Correa, a journalist and scholar, has dedicated more than 25 years to defending human rights in Venezuela and the Americas.
However, Correa is, at the time of writing, missing. His whereabouts are completely unknown since about 5 p.m. on January 7, Venezuelan time. “He was intercepted in the center of Caracas by hooded men who claimed to be officials,” according to witnesses quoted in a press release by Espacio Público.
As director of Espacio Público, Correa has participated in over 30 hearings before the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR) and other international bodies to denounce the violations of fundamental rights in Venezuela. He has faced harassment, threats, and physical assaults due to his advocacy work throughout his career.
“We've combed the places we know [Ed: detention centers in Caracas] and have not found him,” said his wife, Mabel Calderín, who is also a well-respected faculty member at the Universidad Católica Andrés Bello in Caracas. “I need to know where he is. Carlos has special health conditions that require permanent treatment (….) and has committed no crime. He has dedicated his life to this: the defense of human rights of everyone, no matter their ideology.”
Calderín spoke to the Venezuelan televised press on January 8:
Local and international NGOs, and even the president of Colombia, Gustavo Petro, denounced Correa's forced disappearance:
Igual que nuestro amigo Enrique Márquez, destacado progresista venezolano, ha sido detenido Carlos Correa, destacado defensor de derechos humanos en Venezuela. Esto, y otros hechos, impide mi asistencia personal al acto de posesión de Nicolás Maduro.
La solicitud de Colombia no… https://t.co/adAA51R8VL
— Gustavo Petro (@petrogustavo) January 8, 2025
Just like our friend Enrique Márquez, a prominent Venezuelan progressive, Carlos Correa, a prominent defender of human rights in Venezuela, has been arrested. This, and other events, prevent my personal attendance at the inauguration of Nicolás Maduro.
Colombia's request was not attended to in the sense of maximum transparency in the last elections when such a possibility was raised in various political meeting spaces to which we were invited. In Europe, Venezuela, and the USA.
The last elections in Venezuela were not free. There are no free elections under blockades. (…)
Social media users are using the #DóndeEstáCarlosCorrea (Where is Carlos Correa?) and #LiberenaCarlosCorrea (Free Carlos Correa) hashtags. There has been no official word from the government about the case so far. Correa's case joins more than 18 political detentions before the presidential inauguration on January 10.
Read more: On January 10, all eyes will be on Venezuela
A personal hero for Global Voices members
Correa supported Venezuelan Global Voices members throughout the years. Luis Carlos Díaz, a journalist and digital activist who was subject to a forced disappearance by Venezuelan security forces in 2019, calls Correa a “personal hero.”
Correa was among the human rights activists who strongly advocated for Díaz's release.
Apresaron a Carlos Correa, un héroe personal, un defensor de derechos humanos que lleva más de 20 años especializado en libertad de expresión. Ha sido director de radio, coordinó Provea y armó luego Espacio Público.
Carlos es un pilar de los DDHH en Venezuela.
Nos da fuerzas. https://t.co/xAPwIPXXdn— Luis Carlos
One Piece (@LuisCarlos) January 8, 2025
Carlos Correa, a personal hero, was arrested. He is a human rights defender who has been specializing in freedom of expression for more than 20 years. He has been a radio director, coordinated Provea and later created Espacio Público.
Carlos is a pillar of human rights in Venezuela.
He gives us strength.
Marianne Díaz Hernández is a lawyer who specializes in digital rights. She calls Correa a “reference” for her work of 15 years in human rights and, also, a friend.
She carries his advice close to her heart:
Siempre que me dan ganas de tirar la toalla, recuerdo las palabras de Carlos, que siempre me dice: ejercitamos el músculo democrático para que no se atrofie, para el día en que podamos usarlo de nuevo. Y sigo adelante, porque hay que recordar cómo se hace la democracia.
]]>Whenever I want to quit, I remember Carlos's words, he always told me: we exercise our democratic muscle so it that it does not atrophy, so that we can use it again when we need it. And I keep going, because we must remember how democracy is built.
Venezuelans anticipate large protests this week
Originally published on Global Voices
Image by Global Voices. On the left: Opposition candidate Edmundo González Urrutia (image credit: Wikimedia Commons/European Union CC BY 4.0). On the right: President-Elect Nicolás Maduro (image credit: Wikimedia Commons/Kremlin CC BY 4.0)
January 10 is much more than a simple calendar day in 2025 for Venezuela, as the date laid out in the constitution for the inauguration of new presidential terms. This year, the stakes are even higher, as the candidates who ran in July's highly contested presidential elections are preparing to make the day their own. Both President-elect Nicolás Maduro and opposition leaders María Corina Machado and Edmundo González Urrutia have called for nationwide mobilizations for that day, and the day before.
How did it come to this?
The National Electoral Council (CNE), Venezuela's highest office on electoral affairs, proclaimed current president Nicolás Maduro as the winner for a third consecutive term (2025–2031). Presidential periods in Venezuela have no legal reelection limits. This sparked a wave of protests and authoritarian backlash — today, more than 1700 people remain imprisoned in Venezuela after being detained for political reasons, including post-electoral protests.
No voter tallies have been shown since the election day on their website — which is still inactive — and the government has released promotional content centered on the slogan #YoJuroporMaduro (I Swear by Maduro), calling Maduro's followers to support his inauguration. The ceremony will be held in Caracas, the country's capital.
View this post on Instagram
United! With our fist
raised high, on #10Ene we swear with our hearts, for the trust and love we have for the Homeland. The date is scheduled to defend the vote!
The opposition claims that the rightful winner of the July elections is their candidate, Edmundo González Urrutia, who is currently touring the Americas after receiving political asylum in Spain last September. They base their claims on the voter tallies collected by volunteer witnesses on election day, which have been compiled in open data initiatives such as resultadosconvzla.com and macedoniadelnorte.com. At the time of publication, opposition leader María Corina Machado remains in hiding, in an undisclosed location. She called Venezuelans to the streets on January 9, a day before the inauguration.
View this post on Instagram
This is the cue. This is the day!
The day we unite our flag in a single cry for FREEDOM!
Venezuela needs you.
All of you, TOGETHER. ALL OF US!I will go with you.
This January 9, EVERYONE in to the streets, in Venezuela and around the world.GLORY TO THE VALIANT PEOPLE!
The world has not turned a blind eye to the upcoming events. Only a handful of countries have recognized Maduro as the winner of the presidential elections, including Russia, China, Nicaragua, and Cuba. Brazil, Colombia, and Mexico — whose presidents were once poised to help mediate the electoral crisis by meeting with Maduro — will send high-level government representatives to the inauguration ceremony. On the other hand, the United States and the European parliament openly recognize González as president-elect.
Uncertainty could sum up the feeling of most Venezuelans. Caracas Chronicles, a Global Voices content partner, says it like this in their opinion piece “Something is Going to Happen in This Town”:
]]>There is a shared feeling amongst all Venezuelans that something will happen in the coming weeks. Be it driven by the government’s military paranoia or by the opposition’s hopeful speech. Let’s just hope that someone with their head and heart in the right place actually does have a plan.
Latin America between power outages and internet blockages
Originally published on Global Voices
Screenshot of a browser error message when unable to access the internet. Fair use.
In 2024, Latin America faced internet blockages, power outages, and disruptions linked to politics, climate change, and access to energy.
Countries such as Ecuador and Cuba suffered prolonged blackouts that severely affected connectivity, while, in Brazil, floods interrupted internet traffic in the south and judicial measures limited access to X (formerly Twitter). Elections and presidential inaugurations aggravated website blocking in Venezuela and El Salvador.
Social organizations denounced blocks ordered outside of legal processes and without complying with principles of necessity and proportionality, as in Colombia and other countries in the region.
Ecuador
On April 16, 2024, Ecuador faced internet service interruptions in several of its provinces due to power outages, as reported by internet providers. These indicated that the outages were the result of prolonged and recurring electricity rationing, which lasted more than eight hours a day, a situation that stabilized in May.
In mid-September, there were new power outages of up to 14 hours a day, which had an impact on connectivity and telecommunications services. In October, Ecuador's Minister of Energy and Mines Inés Manzano described the situation as a serious and unprecedented energy crisis.
As shown in this case, an energy crisis can affect the electricity supply that is necessary for the operation and functioning of telecommunication infrastructures, thus limiting access to information and the ability to communicate by these means.
Read more: Ecuador grapples with 14-hour blackouts, climate change, and alleged corruption
Colombia
At the beginning of June 2024, the website and social network reddit.com was included on the list of websites related to illegal betting in Colombia by the authority of gaming and betting (Coljuegos). Reddit was not accessible by at least two internet providers (six days in Claro and four days in Tigo), according to the Internet Blocks Observatory. The Open Observatory of Network Interference also confirmed the block.
The Colombian organization Fundación Karisma, which is dedicated to the defense and promotion of human rights, considers that the criteria and legal requirements for this type of block are not defined Colombia, which would result in arbitrary and disproportionate restrictions.
Venezuela
On July 28, 2024, Venezuela held presidential elections. According to the results announced by the electoral authorities, Nicolás Maduro, the incumbent president, obtained 51.2 percent of the votes, while the opposition coalition, headed by María Corina Machado and her candidate Edmundo González Urrutia, obtained 44 percent. However, there were numerous allegations of fraud, including vote manipulation, voter intimidation, and the arrest of opposition figures.
In August, Ve Sin Filtro, of the organization Venezuela Inteligente, recorded 12 new cases of blockings of media websites, human rights organizations, and one VPN service. This makes a total of 61 media outlets blocked on Venezuela's main internet providers.
Also, on August 1, the Internet Outage Detection & Analysis project at Georgia Tech (IODA) recorded a 1 hour and 50 minute disruption at internet providers CANTV and Movilnet. The root cause is unknown, according to Ve sin Filtro.
Read more in our special coverage: Venezuela's fight for democracy
Brazil
Read more: What you need to know about the X (formerly Twitter) situation in Brazil
El Salvador
Read more: Controversial hacktivists may have prompted El Salvador’s censorship of Telegram
Cuba
We're seeing a five-hour dip in traffic to #Cuba coinciding with reports of a disruption in mobile service following protests in Santiago de Cuba earlier today.
Dip in traffic begins at 19:20 UTC (3:20pm ET) and lasted until 00:30 UTC (8:30pm ET). pic.twitter.com/hXAlmwswm3
— Doug Madory (also on Bluesky) (@DougMadory) March 18, 2024
The first power blackout occurred in October and lasted more than 70 hours, affecting internet connectivity. It was caused by a failure in the electrical system. The second outage occurred on November 6, due to Hurricane Rafael. Authorities explained that they had to cut off the electricity supply as a contingency measure. The third one was on December 4, and Cuba's Electric Union, which belongs to the Ministry of Energy and Mines, reported a disconnection of the Cuban electric system.
Read more: ‘Buy solar panels,’ Cuban officials say as the island faces another critical blackout
Without adequate safeguards, the treaty could legitimize and facilitate the persecution of human rights defenders and journalists beyond national borders
Originally published on Global Voices
Image by Giovana Fleck for Global Voices
By Alexa Zamora
The connectivity of a digitized world has allowed human rights defenders and journalists who have faced persecution to continue their work from countries other than their home countries. However, the 2023 UN Cybercrime Convention presents new challenges for these actors, as, without adequate safeguards, it could facilitate transnational persecution and eliminate the few remaining safe havens. The scope of this convention poses a threat to freedom of expression, cross-border surveillance, and transnational repression, especially for those operating in exile.
The convention was proposed by Russia in 2017 with the stated goal of combating “the problems and threats posed by crimes in the field of information and communications technologies.” Since its inception, it has raised concerns among countries and human rights organizations. In 2019, the UN General Assembly agreed to develop the convention through Resolution 74/247, despite opposition from 60 countries and 33 abstentions.
The resolution was sponsored by countries with historical records of human rights violations, including Russia, China, Myanmar, Nicaragua, Iran, and Venezuela. Organizations such as the Association for Progressive Communications (APC) and the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) warned that the convention could “undermine the use of the internet to exercise human rights and facilitate social and economic development.”
Potential threats to human rights defenders and exiled journalists
Authoritarian regimes have promoted a broad and ambiguous definition of cybercrime, which can encompass legitimate online activities, including criticism of the government and human rights advocacy. This means that publishing articles, organizing online protests, or denouncing abuses are considered cybercrimes, as is the case in Nicaragua, where TikTokers, journalists, and activists have been persecuted and imprisoned under these pretenses.
The convention lacks clear safeguards to protect freedom of expression and other fundamental rights. This means that exiled defenders and journalists could be accused of cybercrime in their home countries for legitimate activities carried out online from abroad. Again, we highlight the case of Nicaragua, where the reform of the Cybercrime Law punishes with prison and fines those who, inside or outside the country, share and publish on social media posts that cause “alarm, fear, panic, or unease” among the population, as stated in a government-controlled parliament communiqué.
Facilitating surveillance and transnational persecution
The treaty proposes mechanisms that facilitate state surveillance and international cooperation in the collection and exchange of personal data. Without strong checks and balances, these mechanisms could be used to track, identify, and persecute activists and journalists in other countries.
One missing check is that the treaty makes dual criminality — requiring the supposed crime to be illegal in both cooperating countries — optional. This principle not only safeguards free expression and dissent but also prevents countries from imposing their laws universally. The ability of states to request data and assistance from other countries without strict requirements for dual criminality or other human rights protections could result in the detention or extradition of people seeking refuge abroad.
There is a precedent for the abuse of international police cooperation systems, such as INTERPOL's Red Notices, to pursue dissidents and critics abroad for political reasons. Countries like China and Bahrain have used these mechanisms to locate and detain peaceful opponents on political grounds. The EFF warns that “the convention risks becoming an instrument of transnational repression.
Elimination of safe havens
With the implementation of the convention, practically no country would remain a safe haven. Broad international cooperation on cybercrime could compel countries that have traditionally offered asylum to comply with requests from repressive states, even if this goes against human rights principles).
Moreover, the absence of a mandatory dual criminality clause puts exiles who operate legally in their country of residence at risk of being pursued under repressive laws in their home nation.
Specific aspects of the treaty that affect exiles
Article 23 allows criminal procedural measures to be applied not only to specific cybercrimes but to any crime involving digital evidence. This includes vaguely defined crimes used to silence dissent, such as “subversion,” “defamation of the state,” “treason,” etc.
The ability to intercept real-time communications without clear restrictions allows states to monitor the activities of individuals abroad. Service providers may be forced to cooperate, even if such actions violate privacy and freedom of expression laws in the country where they operate.
The treaty facilitates cooperation between states without requiring compliance with international human rights standards. This means that a country could request assistance from another to prosecute an exile, and the receiving country would be obliged to cooperate, even if the request were politically motivated.
The implementation of the convention without effective safeguards would endanger the physical and digital security of human rights defenders and exiled journalists. They could face detention or extradition to their home countries, where they would face persecution, surveillance and harassment by the authorities of other countries cooperating with repressive regimes. This would limit their activities from fear of being tracked or persecuted, affecting their freedom of expression and ability to work.
Putting human rights defenders in danger
The 2023 UN Cybercrime Convention, in its current form, presents a significant challenge for human rights defenders and independent exiled journalists. Without robust safeguards, the treaty could facilitate transnational surveillance and persecution, eliminating the few remaining safe havens. It is essential that the international community review and modify the treaty to protect fundamental rights and prevent it from becoming a tool of global repression.
The convention must include mandatory dual criminality clauses, respect human rights, and human rights safeguards, establishing that no cooperation will be provided in cases that could result in violations of fundamental rights. Finally, both transparency and independent oversight are vital to prevent abuses and ensure that measures are used solely to combat genuine cybercrimes.
Without adequate safeguards, the treaty could legitimize and facilitate the persecution of human rights defenders and journalists beyond national borders, putting them at serious risk.
]]>There is music for everyone during December's festivities
Originally published on Global Voices
Illustration by Global Voices
Music for Christmas and New Year's Eve in Latin America is as diverse as its people and landscapes. These songs and musical genres, selected by Global Voices contributors, can be heard on radio stations, on buses, in stores and supermarkets throughout the month of December, and especially at family gatherings on Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve. We also enjoy them while savoring a holiday dish or observing local customs. Learn about these festive, religious, nostalgic, or political songs from Venezuela, El Salvador, Argentina, Colombia, Mexico, and Ecuador.
El Niño Criollo – Oscar D´León
Added by Estefanía Salazar
There is one song that lets us imagine how the Nativity story would be told in Venezuela, and that is “El Niño Criollo” (The Creole Child). It is a 1962 piece with music by the composer and violinist Luis Morales Bance and lyrics by the architect Isabel Herrera de Umérez.
“If the Virgin were Andean and St. Joseph from the plains, baby Jesus would have been a Venezuelan child”, begins this beautiful aguinaldo, a name given to the songs typical of the Christmas holidays.
Another of its stanzas explains which element would replace the wooden cradle typical of nativity scenes: a hammock or a “chinchorro” as it is known in Venezuela, when they are made of loose and elastic fabric.
Por cuna tendría un chinchorro
chiquito muy bien tejido
y la Virgen mecería al Niño Jesús dormido
For a cradle he would have a small
chinchorro, very well woven
and the Virgin would be rocking the sleeping Baby Jesus
The song carries no other implication except that of its lyrics: a recreation of Christmas within a Venezuelan setting. All audiences can enjoy it, and it is sometimes known by its alternative name: “Aguinaldo Venezolano.”
Listen here to the version of “El Niño Criollo” by Oscar D'León, the world-famous Venezuelan salsa singer.
Villancico del horror – Divididos
Added by Lucía Leszinsky
In Argentina, Christmas celebrations start early. From the early hours of the day, the streets are filled with noise: the synthesizers of cumbia and cuarteto, folkloric voices, some echoing tango, and — because why not — some of the processed voices of trap music. But if there is one thing that rarely fails, especially before midnight dances, it is the chords of an electric guitar accompanying the hustle and bustle of the family dinner.
Argentine rock provides songs that contrast sharply with the typical foreign Christmas carols that speak of love and peace. Just listen to the lyrics of “Papá llegó borracho” (Dad got here drunk) by Ataque 77 or “Navidad negra ”(Black Christmas) by Fito Páez to see that, in Argentina, Christmas wishes sometimes go beyond wishing for happiness.
In 2002, the rock band Divididos released “Vengo del placard del otro,” an album that includes “Villancico del horror” (Horror carol), a song that criticizes Argentina's state of affairs after the economic and social crisis of 2001. With lines such as “Feliz Navidad, explotó el pesebre” (Merry Christmas, the nativity scene exploded) and “Año nuevo, el hombre festeja y el perro escapó” (New Year, man celebrates and the dog escaped), the song alludes to the resignation of President Fernando de la Rúa on December 20, 2001, in the middle of a crisis that led him to leave the Casa Rosada by helicopter to avoid the violent confrontations that were taking place in the streets, a few days before Christmas Eve.
While not one of the most popular songs, “Villancico del horror” is one of the best social representations of that time in the country, one that, to a certain extent, could also reflect current issues.
Reyes vagos, no entrega a domicilio porque no hay remise, y un copetín de quejas traído ‘e los pelos.
Lazy kings, there is no home delivery because there are no taxis left, and an endless list of grievances dragged by the ears.
Las Cuatro Fiestas – Diomedes Díaz
Added by Kelly Chaib De Mares
Day of the Little Candles in Colombia. Wikimedia Commons CC BY-SA 4.0
Throughout Latin America, December 8th is celebrated as the day commemorating the Catholic dogma of the Immaculate Conception of the Virgin Mary. In Colombia, this date has grown to mark the official beginning of Christmas celebrations. The tradition begins on the night of December 7th with the Day of the Little Candles, when homes and streets are illuminated with candles and lanterns in honor of the Virgin, thus signaling when the lights that will illuminate the entire Christmas season are turned on.
This day is so important that Diomedes Díaz, the late king of vallenato — a Colombian folkloric genre that combines Indigenous rhythms with African influences and Spanish melodies, characterized by its poetic narrative — immortalized this day in his song “Las Cuatro Fiestas” (The Four Parties), one of his Christmas hymns, where he invites listeners to start Christmas festivities on December 8th.
The lyrics describe a vivid image of life along riverbanks, with “bushes and coconut trees” as a backdrop as the “Black fishermen” return to their homes to celebrate the Day of the Little Candles, a prelude to the festivities of Christmas, New Year's and the Barranquilla Carnival. The Carnival of Barranquilla is a tradition that fuses Spanish celebrations brought during colonization along with African and Indigenous influences. It stands out for its masks, costumes and troupes that symbolize the diversity and cultural richness of the region and the country.
Claveles y Rosas – Pamela Cortés y John Peter Vernaza
Added by Gina Yauri
Christmas carols are sung in Loja, the southern city of Ecuador, known as the musical and cultural capital of the country. Before Christmas, the novena takes place: it consists of praying for nine days in different homes before the big party and preparing for the birth of baby Jesus. In each home, people sing carols such as: “Dulce Jesús Mío,” “Ya viene el Niñito,” “Claveles y Rosas,” “En brazos de una Doncella,” “No sé Niño Hermoso,” “Pimpollito del alma” and “Claveles y Rosas.”
These carols have become a tradition in Ecuador and around the world. They were created by the composer Salvador Bustamante Celi, born in Loja in 1876. His musical compositions have been translated into 102 languages.
For example, the Christmas carol “Claveles y Rosas” (Carnations and Roses) has been interpreted by several national artists, such as this one by contemporary singer Javier Neira. In 2013, Pamela Cortés from Quito and John Peter Vernaza from Galapagos, sung this carol on public television. This performance amassed over 339,000 views on YouTube.
Claveles y rosas, la cuna adornad
En tanto que un ángel meciéndole está
Claveles y rosas, la cuna adornad
En tanto que un ángel meciéndole está (…)
Carnations and roses, the cradle adorned
While an angel is rocking him
Carnations and roses, the cradle adorned
While an angel rocking him (…)
Regalo de Reyes – Javier Solís
Added by Isela Xospa
A photo of a posada in Mexico. Wikimedia CC BY-SA 4.0
In Mexico, the December celebrations begin on December 12th with the national holiday dedicated to the Virgin of Guadalupe. This kickstarts a series of celebrations that includes processions, visits to temples and churches dedicated to her image, songs, music, and parties. The Christmas season culminates on January 6th, the Epiphany.
There are many songs celebrating the Virgin of Guadalupe, but the hymn “La Guadalupana” is a classic. It was written by Manuel Esperón and Ernesto Cortázas who authored many important songs and compositions during the Mexico's Golden Age of cinema between 1930–1960.
December 16th marks the beginning of the Posadas, where the streets, houses, neighborhoods, and churches are lit up with twinkling lights, music, and piñatas. These nine days of festivities lead to December 24, the birth of the baby Jesus, with a last posada, supper, and a church service.
La Sonora Santanera, a Mexican band specialized in the tropical genre and influenced by genres of danzón, mambo, bolero, rumba, cha cha cha, guaracha, and cumbia, consolidated its career between the 1960s and 1970s. Despite this, their musical hits, such as “Las Fiestas de Diciembre” (The December Festivities) remain a staple at Christmas celebrations.
Christmas celebrations in Mexico are not always happy or full of dancing, it is also a time when memories, heartbreak and nostalgia creep back. These feelings are captured in many Mexican Christmas melodies such as the ones recorded by Mexican singer and actor Javier Solis: “Regalo de Reyes” (Kings’ Gift) and “Llorarás en Navidad” (You will cry at Christmas).
La Bala – Los Hermanos Flores
Added by Melissa Vida
In El Salvador, when Christmas is near, cumbia music is omnipresent. “La Bala (The Bullet)” by Los Hermanos Flores is one of those classics, a song full of playful humor that gets everyone dancing by telling people what they have to perform.
Mano a la barriga
Una sobadita
Hagan un cola (…)
Put your hand on your belly
Give it a little rub
Everyone go make a queue (…)
The first time Salvadoran band Los Hermanos Flores heard this song was at a private New Year's party for Nicaraguan dictator Anastasio Somoza in the late 1960s. La Bala was originally composed by Panamanian songwriter Arturo Hassán, who created many Panamanian classics.
“Nono” Flores, one of the members of the band, told Revista Factum that a couple of years later, he brought back the record of a version of “La Bala” from San Francisco for his father, which he bought for a quarter of a dollar before flying back to El Salvador. Later Nono recorded a cover with his brothers and sister and, in Nono's words, it was “a smash hit.”
For Willian Carballo, a communications researcher, the lyrics of La Bala — “that if you don't dance to it, you can get shot” — communicate an unconscious desire to use humor as a form of resistance during the era of military dictatorships in Central America. The song later remained popular during the civil wars of the 1980s and the onset of gang violence in the 1990s and to this day. He told Revista Factum:
Yo creo que hay algo de resistencia desde el humor, hay algo de resistencia ante esos temas que nos agobian, de contracultura.
I think some resistance can be found in humor, resistance to issues that overwhelm us, some form of counterculture.
Faltan cinco pa’ las doce – Nestor Zavarce
Added by Avishta Seeras
For more than 60 years, the Venezuelan song “Faltan cinco pa’ las doce” (Five minutes ‘fore twelve), by composer Oswaldo Oropeza and performer Néstor Zavarce, both of humble origins, has been the quintessential song to play on December 31. It has become a hymn not only in Venezuela but in many Latin American countries.
While it is not a song that is danced to, it is usually sung with a lot of heart and it is played when there are approximately five minutes left to bid farewell to the old year and welcome the new year. It is sung with warm feelings and sometimes, tears, as it speaks to the love and affection we feel for our mothers.
Me perdonan que me vaya de la fiesta.
pero hay algo, que jamás podré olvidar
una linda viejecita que me espera,
en las noches de una eterna Navidad.
Faltan cinco pa’ las doce,
el año va a terminar
me voy corriendo a mi casa,
a abrazar a mi mamá
Las campanas de la iglesia están sonando,
anunciando que año viejo se va
la alegría de fin de año viene ya
los abrazos se confunden sin cesar.
Forgive me for leaving the party
but there is something, that I can never forget
a pretty old lady who is waiting for me
in the nights of an eternal Christmas.
It's five to midnight,
the year is about to end
I'm running home,
to hug my mother
The church bells are ringing,
announcing that the old year is gone
the joy of new year's eve is upon us
and our hugs are mingling endlessly.
Listen to these songs and more on Global Voices’ Spotify playlist!
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What can we expect for Latin America?
Originally published on Global Voices
Montage by Global Voices, featuring U.S. President-elect Trump (image from Flickr, under CC BY-SA 2.0) and the map of Latin America
On January 20, 2025, U.S. President Donald Trump will assume office again and face familiar but evolving challenges in Latin America. Two of these challenges stand out.
First, the decline of U.S. influence in the world. This tendency is confirmed in Latin America, where China and Russia are strengthening their foothold. China‘s investments in infrastructure, technology, and energy have surged across the region, making it the second most important commercial partner for many Latin American countries. Meanwhile, Russia has expanded its military and diplomatic ties with several countries and continues to engage in disinformation campaigns, aiming to sway public opinion and political outcomes.
Second, since the onset of COVID-19, Latin American countries have experienced slow economic recovery, deepening political crises, a spike in violence linked to drug trafficking cartels, and worsening social inequalities. These challenges have led to a surge in migration. Migrants, numbering in the millions, have been making the journey to the U.S.-Mexico border in search of a better future. Data indicates that during President Biden's administration, an estimated eight million individuals, mainly from Latin American countries, have been apprehended at the U.S. border.
These were central issues during Trump’s campaign. Like his previous term, his speeches focused on prioritising U.S. interests abroad, a strong anti-immigration stance, and a promise to launch the largest deportation campaign in U.S. history. While in the past he accused Mexico of sending “rapists” and “criminals” to the U.S., he has now directed similar accusations toward El Salvador, expressing concerns about gang members entering the United States. Trump's relationship with Latin America has been marked by ups and downs; for this reason, governments in the region did not all react the same to his re-election.
Those with minimal concerns
For one group of Latin American governments, a victory by either Kamala Harris or Donald Trump would not have changed much. Countries like Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Costa Rica, the Dominican Republic, Panama, Paraguay, Peru, and Uruguay maintain good relations with the U.S., holding solid economic, diplomatic, and, in some cases, military cooperation. Apart from the Dominican Republic and Peru, the diasporas from these nations in the U.S. are relatively modest, and, therefore, they have fewer significant concerns that Trump's policies would directly impact their populations abroad.
However, Trump’s re-election could bolster populist right-wing governments in Latin America. This might be the case in Brazil, the region's largest economy, where former president Jair Bolsonaro is also seeking a comeback. Bolsonaro and Trump shared overlapping presidencies from 2019 to 2021 and were close ideological allies. An important question arises: how might Trump's personal ties with Bolsonaro shape his interactions with Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, Brazil's current president? For his part, Lula has stated that relations with the Trump administration will remain respectful and not based on ideological biases.
Libertarian politician Javier Milei of Argentina may benefit the most. Milei has directed Argentina’s foreign policy toward closer alignment with Western and U.S. interests and shares a network of associates with Trump, including individuals like Elon Musk. Although Milei is known for bold statements, he remained silent during the U.S. campaign. After the election, however, a publicized call revealed Milei expressing admiration for Trump, saying, “You are my favorite President!”
Shortly after the re-election, Milei travelled to Mar-a-Lago to hold a meeting with Trump and Musk. During the meeting, Milei invited Trump to create an alliance of “free nations“ to preserve Western identity and promote commercial trade. Experts say that Milei seeks to stimulate private U.S. investment in Argentina's deteriorated economy and use U.S. influence over the International Monetary Fund (IMF) to secure new credits for his country.
Those with the most to lose
The return of President Trump to the White House is marked by a Republican majority in both the Senate and Congress and allies from Florida in key positions. Florida is home to substantial exiled communities from Cuba, Nicaragua, and Venezuela, who significantly influence political dynamics and often bring international issues from their home countries into local politics.
Having fled a communist regime, around three million Cubans — representing nearly 30 percent of Cuba's population — have settled predominantly in Florida and gained political influence. They distinguish themselves by being the only Hispanic community that has traditionally voted Republican. Many of them support increased sanctions on Cuba as a way to force the regime to transition to democracy. Over the years, several Republican politicians with Cuban origins have occupied important positions in local and national politics. This Cuban diaspora has been complemented by migrants from Nicaragua and Venezuela who are escaping similar situations.
For these dictatorships, this is the worst-case scenario. Caracas, Havana, and Managua could face increased pressure with Cuban-American Marco Rubio appointed as the next secretary of state. Similarly, Congressman Mike Waltz, nominated as national security advisor, has been one of the strongest critics of these regimes. Together with other Republican politicians from Florida — such as Senator Rick Scott, Congressmen Carlos Gimenez, Mario Diaz-Balart, Maria Elvira Salazar, Debbie Wasserman Schultz, and Texas Senator Ted Cruz — they are likely to gain more influence in shaping U.S. policies toward Latin American countries within the Republican Party.
Already, immediate consequences are becoming apparent. On Monday, November 18, 2024, members of Congress voted in favor of an act named BOLIVAR, aiming to sanction all individuals and entities with commercial ties to Nicolás Maduro’s regime in Venezuela. This law is reminiscent of the sanctions already in place against the Cuban government since the 1990s. Moreover, Cuba may remain on the list of countries that sponsor terrorism for longer, which limits its capacity to trade and receive financing from foreign partners.
Unpredictability prevails for many
Other countries like Bolivia, Colombia, Guatemala, Honduras, and Mexico face uncertain relations with the United States. Apart from Bolivia, these nations have some of the largest diasporas in the U.S., and their economies benefit greatly from remittances sent by migrants to families back home. If President Trump's proposed deportation plan is implemented, it could have serious economic and social implications for these countries.
Another source of uncertainty in bilateral relationships is the left-leaning stance of their governments. A Trump administration that openly dismisses socialist ideologies might find it challenging to work alongside these governments, and the feeling may be mutual. Signs of strained relations are beginning to appear. During the G-20 meeting held in Brazil, Colombian President Gustavo Petro reportedly told the media that Trump and Argentine politician Javier Milei represent a “new kind of fascism.“ More tensions might arise during Trump's second term.
El Salvador, a unique case
El Salvador is an interesting case. Salvadorans make up a large diaspora in the United States, particularly on the West Coast. During his campaign, Trump singled out this diaspora as a source of gang activity, prompting strong criticism of El Salvador and its president, Nayib Bukele.
What makes this dynamic particularly interesting is the similarity between the two leaders. Both Trump and Bukele share a populist style and unconventional political and social approaches. Despite Trump's criticisms, Bukele opted for a measured response, avoiding escalating tensions. Bukele was also the first world leader to congratulate Trump on his re-election.
In conclusion, for Latin American leaders, the next four years are likely to bring changes to U.S.-Latin American relations as governments attempt to adapt to, or survive, Trump.
]]>Pro-Bukelism is amplified in social networks
Originally published on Global Voices
Montage showing the president of El Salvador, Nayib Bukele, with the press. Made by ProBox and published with their permission.
This article was written by Probox, a Latin American Global Voices media partner.
Nayib Bukele's government in El Salvador has captured international attention for its story of economic stability and achieving security, in many cases projecting itself as a model of transformation in the region. However, this image of success contrasts with increasingly alarming complaints about the restriction of fundamental freedoms, particularly the freedom of the press and government transparency.
The environment for independent Salvadoran journalists has become increasingly hostile, with a worrying increase in attacks, stigmatization, and judicial persecution.
Recent reports by the Inter-American Press Association (IAPA) and the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) reveal the significant setbacks in freedoms of information and access to public information from 2022, with the establishment of the state of emergency in El Salvador.
IAPA highlighted that 2023 was the most critical year for the press in El Salvador since the end of the civil war, with a 66 percent increase in aggressions against journalists.
In parallel, the US State Department, in its Fiscal Transparency Report 2024, has highlighted the lack of public audits and growing doubts about the country's financial management, especially regarding unaudited accounts and the adoption of bitcoin as legal tender.
Despite the progress in the publication of some financial data, the report warns that oversight institutions lack independence and have not fulfilled international auditing standards. These problems, in addition to weakening confidence in public management, raise serious questions about the government's true commitment to accountability.
Bukele's narratives
An investigation by ProBox provides deeper insight into how the official narrative of the Bukele government is being spread and amplified in the digital environment, while repression of the critical press continues to increase.
ProBox used social listening tools to monitor the online conversation on topics related to press freedom, the persecution of journalists, and government transparency in El Salvador.
The study revealed that between September 2 and October 2, 191 mentions were recorded related to terms such as “government persecution,” “access to public information,” and “harassment of journalists.”
Most of these mentions were concentrated on X (previously Twitter), with 57.07 percent of the total, followed by Facebook with 37.17 percent, and fewer on Instagram. The day with the highest activity was September 13, when 22 mentions were recorded on these topics.
The keywords most cited in the posts included “freedom of the press” (28 mentions) and “deterioration of freedom” (12 mentions), reflecting the concern of journalists and users about increasing government control over the media.
The complaints point to a hostile environment for journalistic work, in which judicial harassment and harassment in social networks go hand in hand, driven by the disqualifying rhetoric of government officials. In this sense, it is possible to see posts from users protesting for the freedom of expression in El Salvador and categorizing the Bukele government as a dictatorship on X.
Likewise, media such as La Prensa Gráfica, CNN en Español, La Gaceta, and journalist Roberto Cavada have published about the IAPA reports and CPJ, denouncing the restrictions on access to information, especially on sensitive topics such as crime and prison conditions. These publications have also pointed out the existence of a “digital army” of trolls and bots used to discredit critics and amplify official propaganda.
An aspect that caught the attention was complaints like that of FOCOS, an organization that, from its Facebook account, warned about how the government has begun to block the profiles of government critics.
Critical organizations and media have reported that the government of El Salvador has created more than 5,000 bot accounts on platforms such as X, Instagram, and Facebook, used to spread pro-Bukele propaganda and attack opposition voices. These accounts have been blocked by the platforms following allegations of coordinated manipulation of the public conversation.
Screenshot of a video from the FOCOS account on Facebook
Pro-Bukelism is amplified in social networks.
The conversation was also analyzed around keywords and phrases such as “Bukele's economic plan,” “fully funded budget,” “innovation and security,” and “bitcoin legal tender in El Salvador,” and the participation of some network users who actively promote pro-Bukele content, such as @soyjoseyoutuber and @tamarindosv.
Through this search, 223 mentions were obtained between September 8 and October 7, highlighting the activity of September 15 (Salvadoran Independence Day along with the rest of Central American nations), with 33 recorded mentions.
This conversation was primarily concentrated on Facebook with 56.05 percent of recorded mentions (125), followed by X with 43.05 percent of mentions (96), then by Instagram with 0.45 percent of mentions (1), and by TikTok with 0.45 percent of mentions (1).
The government's official narrative has achieved a strong presence in social networks through pro-Bukele figures and accounts (such as @soyjoseyoutuber and @tamarindosv), as well as through the dissemination of the discourse on economic stability and security success.
For example, Bukele's announcement on September 15 about the presentation of a budget for 2025 fully financed without the need for foreign debt was amplified by these users and replicated on platforms such as Facebook, X, and TikTok.
One of the most viral examples was a TikTok video, uploaded by the @bukelord account, in which the moment of Nayib Bukele's speech was published in which he made mention of the budget proposal that accumulated more than 1.1 million views, 126,400 likes, 6,509 comments, 5,638 saves, and 8,585 sends.
Screenshot of a video from the Bukelord account on TikTok.
This digital activity reinforces the image of success that the government is trying to project, but at the same time hides the persistent problems in human rights and transparency topics.
The official discourse of the Bukele government has been marketing his management as an economic success story. However, this story is increasingly being criticized by media and human rights organizations, which see these achievements as a distraction from underlying problems related to freedom of expression and transparency.
Although the government has presented initiatives such as the Code of Ethics and Integrity in the General Direction of Customs, for some sectors these measures seem insufficient or limited in their implementation.
Repression and censorship toward journalists continue to be a constant threat that affects civil society's ability to hold its rulers accountable.
]]>AI platform ‘ghost work’ is another form of labor exploitation
Originally published on Global Voices
Illustration: Image generated with generative artificial intelligence program Midjourney by Colombian Prompt Image Generator engineer David Orjuela
This is an extract of an article by María Camila Botero Castro, Francisca López Molina, and Johan Alexander Sanabria Restrepo, first published on Distintas Latitudes on May 26, 2023. Global Voices republished this article as part of a media partnership agreement.
El impacto de la Inteligencia Artificial (IA) en la humanidad es incuestionable. Desde la automatización de tareas repetitivas hasta el desarrollo de vehículos autónomos, la IA ha demostrado su capacidad para transformar la forma en que trabajamos y vivimos. Al mismo tiempo, ha planteado serias preguntas sobre su efecto en el futuro de los empleos, la privacidad y la ética.
The impact of artificial intelligence (AI) on humanity is beyond dispute. From automating repetitive tasks to developing self-driving vehicles, AI has proven its ability to transform how we live and work. However, it has also raised serious questions about the future of jobs, privacy, and ethics.
The text above was initially written by Chat GPT, a large language model that the US AI organization OpenAI developed to generate coherent responses in a matter of seconds. But how exactly does this seemingly magic tool work?
AI platforms are data-fueled. The more data they have, the more accurate the output will be. And this doesn’t just mean one or two datasets, but billions! For Chat GPT to write the first paragraph of this article alone, it had to refer to 175 billion data variables. However, the dilemma here is who provides this data and under what conditions.
‘Ghost work’
Álvaro Montes, the director of Colombian Artificial Intelligence content at Prisa Media, explained that, for AI to work as we know it, it must first receive human training. This work, known as data labeling, involves analyzing and classifying information so the AI algorithm can learn from it. The most common tasks are voice and image recognition, text transcription, and word dictation.
According to Montes, “artificial intelligence platforms don’t think like humans do but use mathematical ‘reasoning’ instead. These platforms compare pixels, edges, and eye shapes.” For example, they must have first seen millions of photos of cats and dogs to differentiate between these two animals.
Allan González is one of those who have contributed to this sea of information, making artificial intelligence intelligent. For a year and a half (from 2019), he worked for the micro-task platform Spare5, analyzing images of streets, avenues, road signs, and pedestrians to train self-driving vehicles.
“It was a bit like slave labor,” he recalls.
Allan would sit in front of his computer screen all day analyzing these images. The time limit for completing each task was between five and 20 minutes. If he exceeded this time limit, he would not be paid. He thereby describes what he did as the “cheap labor fueling AI.”
Montes agreed:
Estos trabajos se hacen en Venezuela, Colombia o países de África y Asia porque, como son labores no calificadas que no requieren ningún tipo de estudio, pueden pagar barato.
This work is often done in Venezuela, Colombia, or African and Asia countries, because it is unskilled labor that doesn't require any qualifications and can be done cheaply there.
“With capitalism, everything is outsourced,” Montes added. This industry is no exception. Prominent Silicon Valley developers often subcontract data labeling tasks to companies that subsequently subcontract other companies to complete these tasks. Outsourcing hinders unionization, making it challenging to end unethical practices and demand better working conditions.
According to an investigation by the bimonthly magazine MIT Technology Review, “by mid-2018, an estimated 200,000 Venezuelans had registered for micro-task platforms like Spare5 and Hive Micro, accounting for 75 percent of their respective workforces.”
The workers at these companies mostly come from countries in the global majority. All testimonies on the Remotasks platform are from Kenya, Vietnam, the Philippines, and Venezuela.
According to DignifAi, a US company based in Colombia offering data labeling services, the other Latin American countries providing the most workers besides Venezuela are Colombia, Argentina, Panama, and Chile.
These companies insist they generate employment and support their workers. However, the MIT investigation concluded that their data labelers are low-paid (approximately USD 2 per hour), receive no social benefits, and work in poor conditions without any employment guarantees.
Other specialists, such as the anthropologist Mary L. Gray and the social scientist Siddharth Suri, have warned that data labelers’ mental health also suffers due to their grueling workdays in short-term jobs with high turnovers.
Although Allan didn't face any traumatizing images, he did carry out other exhausting tasks, both mentally and physically.
Yo decía: ‘me estoy embruteciendo aquí dándole clic a la computadora’. Es un trabajo completamente repetitivo y sin ningún tipo de crecimiento.
I’d say: “Clicking away on this computer is mind-numbing stuff.” The work is tremendously repetitive and offers no growth whatsoever.
“Given the challenging circumstances in Venezuela at that time,” Allan decided to take up data labeling since the pay was in USD. He received between 50 cents and USD 1 per task, depending on the task’s difficulty. Even so, he earned more than his country’s average salary. He said:
El sueldo mensual en Venezuela era de 30 dólares, así que en un día podía hacer lo que otros hacían en un mes.
At that time, Venezuela’s monthly salary was 30 USD. So, I could earn what others earned in a month in one day alone.
For all these reasons, the MIT investigation also concluded that data labeling is not a reliable source of employment but another form of labor exploitation. It even states that “AI is creating a new colonial world order.”
How can we improve the working conditions of data labelers’?
Nevertheless, some companies claim to provide different working conditions. One such company is DignifAI, which mainly employs Venezuelan migrants and Colombians who used to live in Venezuela.
According to María Garcés, who at the time of this interview was head of operations at DignifAI, one of the guarantees they give their employees is a “decent salary.”
“If you look at the labeling industry statistics, you’ll see the salaries are below USD 1 per hour. We wanted to do things differently, and depending on the task, our salary is between USD 2 and USD 20 per hour.” She explained that DignifAI “always pays at least 30 percent above the minimum monthly salary of Latin American countries” but does not pay its labelers social benefits.
DignifAI projects range from content moderation to sentiment and toxic language analysis, tasks María describes as “very common in artificial intelligence. Here, you often have to look at striking images or read racist and homophobic texts.”
To reduce the negative impact on their mental health, María says that DignifAI provides psychological support for their employees, who also have social workers at their disposal. She also says they train them in other areas, such as digital marketing, entrepreneurship, community management, and professional and personal finances.
Ingrid Hernández is an employee at this company. She joined as a data labeler in late 2022 before becoming a text-based sentiment analysis project supervisor in February 2023. Before taking on this job, Ingrid was a language and literature teacher in Venezuela. However, the situation in her home country forced her to migrate to Colombia for better opportunities.
Although Ingrid has been unable to practice her profession directly, she has applied some of her knowledge to the text analyses at DignifAI. She is thereby satisfied with her working conditions.
Solo se trabaja cuatro horas al día y, por lo menos en el caso de los anotadores, se gana más de lo que se estaría ganando en cualquier otro lugar por medio tiempo.
You only work four hours a day and, at least in the case of data annotators, earn more than you would anywhere else on a part-time basis.
For María, all labeling companies must improve their annotators’ financial conditions.
La industria está despertando hacia la ética de la inteligencia artificial, porque están en el ojo del huracán. Estamos en un buen momento para seguir haciendo ruido y dar a conocer la vida de estas personas que están al final de la escalera, para que se den esos cambios que se necesitan.
The industry is waking up to the ethics of artificial intelligence now that they are in the spotlight. Now is the time to be vocal and raise awareness about the lives of those at the bottom of the social ladder so that the necessary changes can take place.
Although Álvaro Montes agrees, he believes the real problem is that Latin America is a region passively observing the Fourth Industrial Revolution. He said:
El problema no es solo resolver la situación laboral de estos migrantes venezolanos que etiquetan fotos. Claro, eso es lo justo, pero tenemos que salir del rol de consumidores para convertirnos en el Thor de la tecnología.
The challenge involves more than resolving the employment situation of the Venezuelan migrants labeling photos. Of course, this is only right, but we must step out of the consumer role to become the Thor of technology.
He believes doing so would resolve the underlying problem by creating skilled jobs that would contribute to the region’s growth.
¿Queremos ser un continente que desarrolle tecnología y que tenga muchos ingenieros, técnicos, tecnólogos, matemáticos y científicos?, ¿o queremos repartidores de pizza y etiquetadores de datos bien pagados?
Do we want to be a continent that develops technology and has many engineers, technicians, technologists, mathematicians, and scientists? Or do we want to be well-paid pizza delivery drivers and data labelers?
For Montes, the answer lies in strengthening innovation and ensuring technological sovereignty by becoming technology producers instead of importers.
]]>A global cry of hope, uniting voices in the fight for Venezuela’s freedom
Originally published on Global Voices
A young protester at ‘La Gran Protesta por la Verdad’ at Plaza Lourdes in Bogotá, Colombia, on August 17, 2024. Photo by José Montilla, used with permission.
“Libertad, libertad, libertad …” Thousands of voices echoed in a symphony of hope across cities worldwide on August 17, from Centennial Plaza in Edmonton, Canada, to Plaza Lourdes in Bogotá, Colombia, and in the streets of Venezuela. This was the “Gran Protesta por la Verdad (Great Protest for the Truth),” a global protest against the dictatorship of Nicolás Maduro. Though separated by thousands of miles, the protesters were united by a shared cry: freedom.
On September 28, they came together again for the “Gran Protesta Mundial por la Libertad de Venezuela (Great Global Protest for Freedom in Venezuela),” which called on people across the globe to take to the streets.
Venezuelans and supporters participating in ‘La Gran Protesta’ por la Verdad at Centennial Plaza in Edmonton, Canada, on August 17, 2024. Photo by Avishta Seeras, used with permission.
In Edmonton, the atmosphere was electric. I stood among the protesters, feeling the energy that charged the air. “There was so much love, joy, strength, and community,” I reflected afterward. Everyone, even strangers, stood together in an undeniable display of solidarity. Gisela, who came to Canada 18 years ago after Chávez’s regime dismissed 23,000 oil workers, including her, captured this sentiment perfectly: “Every corner of the world holds a little piece of Venezuela. There's an instant connection with a fellow Venezuelan, regardless of skin color, social class or lived experience.”
The same sense of community was felt in Bogotá. José, a young web designer who has lived there for over seven years, described the protest as the closest he had felt to home in a long time:
“Hearing the national anthem, the accents of my country, was incredible. We stood united with one purpose: to ensure Venezuela’s voice resonated across the world.”
An elderly protester at ‘La Gran Protesta por la Verdad’ at Plaza Lourdes in Bogotá, Colombia on August 17, 2024. Photo by José Montilla, used with permission.
In Venezuela, 25-year-old nurse Krisbel shared a powerful moment: “Seeing the elderly, even in wheelchairs, shouting ‘¡Y va a caer!’ [“He's going to fall!” referring to the fall of Nicolás Maduro] filled me with immense faith.” These moments reflect the deep connection and unity that transcend borders and generations in the fight for Venezuela’s freedom.
From July to September: An Urgent Call to Action
Since the global protests on July 28 and August 17, the fight has only gained momentum. The determination of Venezuelans, both at home and abroad, has grown stronger. The following major event, the “Gran Protesta Mundial por la Libertad de Venezuela,” took place on September 28, exactly two months after the fraudulent elections that kept Maduro in power.
In recent months, repression has only intensified. Opposition leaders María Corina Machado and Edmundo González Urrutía have been relentlessly targeted by the regime. After refusing to attend a hearing at Venezuela’s Supreme Tribunal of Justice, González fled to Spain. “I had to be free to tell the world what’s happening in Venezuela,” he said. His exile has left many Venezuelans with mixed feelings — some worry it undermines the opposition's claim to the presidency in January, while others are relieved that, at 75, González avoided imprisonment and protected his family.
A young protester at ‘La Gran Protesta por la Verdad’ at Plaza Lourdes in Bogotá, Colombia, on August 17, 2024. Photo by José Montilla, used with permission.
Despite his exile, the fight continues, with María Corina Machado leading the resistance from within Venezuela. “Edmundo will fight from abroad with our diaspora, and I will keep fighting here with you,” she assured her supporters. For many, Machado is the enduring symbol of resistance, her presence keeping the hope of freedom alive. “We stand with María Corina until the end,” says Julia, a 67-year-old seamstress who joined the protests in Venezuela.
Héctor, who moved to Canada from northern Venezuela in 2020, highlights the crucial role the Venezuelan diaspora plays in amplifying the message of resistance: “This is a call for international organizations to grasp the scale of the systematic human rights violations in Venezuela. We must continue spreading this message tirelessly.” For Héctor, this fight is deeply personal, having lived through persecution and loss of rights in his homeland.
Voices of resistance: The fight across three continents
The global protest on August 17 was more than a political demonstration — it was a powerful act of cultural defiance and a reaffirmation of identity.
“Venezuela’s true strength lies in its people,” said Gisela in Edmonton. “I’m ready to return and do whatever it takes to rebuild my country.”
Luis, a 32-year-old systems engineer in Bogotá who left Venezuela seven years ago, shared the same hope. “I want to go back to help rebuild Venezuela, especially its economy and education,” he shared. Though unable to vote, his resolve remains unshaken, and he’s eager to contribute to his country’s rebirth.
‘La Gran Protesta por la Verdad’ in the streets of Venezuela on August 17, 2024. Photo by Krisbel, used with permission.
In Venezuela, the regime’s repression has not weakened the spirit of those who remain. Julia described how despair after the fraudulent election results transformed into defiant hope during the protest: “People were overjoyed, shouting, singing, and banging pots and pans in support of María Corina.” For Julia, peaceful protest is the way forward: “As María Corina says, taking to the streets without violence is how we will reclaim our country.”
“We must keep the pressure on, inside and outside Venezuela. Only the unity of all Venezuelans can bring real transformation,” affirmed Krisbel, another protester.
Human rights and community: The fight for
freedom
At this pivotal moment in Venezuela’s history, I reflect on the universal rights we all deserve: to vote, speak freely, and protest without fear of retribution.
In Venezuela, these fundamental freedoms are increasingly under siege. As Héctor explained: “The government systematically crushes any dissenting voice.” Yet across the globe, the Venezuelan diaspora remains a powerful force, lending strength to those facing persecution at home every day.
‘La Gran Protesta por la Verdad'at Plaza Lourdes in Bogotá, Colombia on August 17, 2024. Photo by José Montilla, used with permission.
The cry of “libertad” that reverberated on August 17 was only the beginning. With the September 28 protest, the voices of resistance, from Venezuela to the far corners of the world, are rising again. Every cry, every protest, brings us one step closer to the day when Venezuela is truly free.
]]>The event was co-organized between Global Voices’ Civic Media Observatory and Advox
Originally published on Global Voices
Image courtesy of the Civic Media Observatory.
On September 24, 2024, Global Voices hosted a discussion in English about Venezuela’s regime strategy for digital repression, from propaganda to harassment and persecution strategies enabled by the use of technology.
On July 28, 2024, Venezuela's National Electoral Authority (CNE) declared President Nicolás Maduro the winner late on election night without sharing the electoral tallies with the detailed outcome. Hours after the CNE announcement, opposition leader Maria Corina Machado contested the results, claiming González Urrutia had won and presenting the tallies to support her claim.
Protests immediately erupted and have steadily continued for over six weeks, with protestors demanding recognition of the results shared by the opposition, particularly in traditionally pro-Chávez neighborhoods, with over 1,700 detained and 24 killed. International pressure has also mounted on the CNE to release the complete election data while the Nicolás Maduro regime has escalated its repression tactics against dissenting voices.
Read more: Venezuela's fight for democracy
In this webinar, we explored the Venezuelan regime's “package” of digital repression instruments, how they have evolved in time and analyzed how they have been used after the presidential election on July 28.
The event, co-organized between Global Voices’ Civic Media Observatory and Advox, was moderated by Global Voices’ Civic Media Observatory Lead, Giovana Fleck, and featured the following panelists:
- Mariví Marín, ProBox
- Marianne Díaz, Access Now
- Rafael Osío Cabrices, Caracas Chronicles
Find the full recording of the event here:
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