Venezuelan Families Confront US-Salvadoran Prison Transfer Silence
A Venezuelan family worries about a deported person who has disappeared. They are afraid the individual is held in a particular jail in El Salvador, a place known to house terrorists. This trying situation highlights a standard yet secretive process. The procedure enacted under the Trump government involved the transfer of many migrants without documentation to locations overseas. The families do not know what became of them.
Disappeared Without a Trace
On a recent Friday, 30-year-old Venezuelan migrant Alirio Guillermo Belloso informed his relatives he was being deported from the United States to Venezuela. After he had given notice, contact with his family was lost within hours. Several days went by with no news of where he could be. Antonio Fuenmayor, Belloso’s brother, said in an EFE interview, “I can’t find any record of him in the immigration system. It’s as if he was never taken into custody. No one can confirm where he is.”
Rumors quickly surfaced that Belloso might be among a group of over 200 Venezuelans—allegedly members of the Tren de Aragua criminal gang—who were sent to a high-security prison in El Salvador. One published photo, widely circulated by the government of President Nayib Bukele, showed an unidentified Venezuelan detainee being forcibly shaved while chained. Fuenmayor believes it could be his brother. “What they’re doing is inhumane,” Fuenmayor added from his home in Florida. “No one tells us anything. He was only facing a civil immigration case. He hasn’t been charged or convicted of any crime in the U.S. or Venezuela.”
According to Alixon Fuenmayor Vera, Belloso’s uncle and a practicing attorney in Venezuela, the entire family remains in the dark: “He was supposed to be deported directly back to Venezuela. Instead, we see a photo of someone who could be him in chains in El Salvador. This is an obvious abuse of power.”
Mysterious Transfer to El Salvador
The crisis for Belloso’s family—and many other Venezuelan families—began when news surfaced that the Trump administration had moved hundreds of detainees to a remote prison in El Salvador. The Salvadoran authorities allege these individuals are tied to Tren de Aragua, a notorious transnational criminal gang.
The establishment Centro de Confinamiento del Terrorismo (Cecot) has a bad reputation because of harsh situations. It exists because of President Bukele’s actions against groups of criminals. The people held there face many limitations as they are viewed as dangerous individuals. Visuals from within show those detained with shaved heads and restraints; they are closely watched by armed staff.
Belloso’s family learned of these deportations through media reports, a single photograph, and social media chatter. The U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agency, which had custody of Belloso, refused to confirm or deny his transfer. Asked about the detainee’s status, ICE directed EFE to contact the White House—a dead end.
“It’s outrageous,” said Belloso’s brother. “He’s a father of a young daughter. He was waiting for his asylum appointment. Now it’s as though the system erased him.”
Legal professionals worry that quite a few individuals, once deported to El Salvador, have had their rights taken away. This occurred because of an old U.S. regulation, often called the Alien Enemies Act, which was initially enacted in 1798.
It saw no implementation following the Second World War. The legislation permits the authorities to expel particular non-citizens without everyday judicial actions. People opposed believe that, through the showing of such a regulation, current due process diminishes.
From Delivery Driver to Enemy of the United States
Belloso’s saga underscores the abruptness of these deportations. Relatives say he arrived in the U.S. via the southern border in 2023, seeking a chance to work and support his family back in Venezuela. He settled in a small Utah town with two cousins, working as a delivery driver to make ends meet.
However, in mid-January, local authorities inspected a gas station where several Latino drivers had stopped. Belloso lacked a driver’s license and was taken into custody. His brother claims Belloso had been in the process of filing for asylum, with a pending appointment for fingerprinting at U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services.
As Belloso’s uncle stated, after entering the immigration system, he opted for voluntary removal to Venezuela. He did so expecting to bypass a long, drawn-out legal battle while in U.S. detention. Kin from Maracaibo looked forward to when he would be back; they thought his deportation would occur quickly because of typical processes.
Instead, the only clue they have now is a set of disturbing photos showing Venezuelans shackled in El Salvador—some with tattoos, some possibly mislabeled as gang members. “He’s been turned into a national security threat overnight,” lamented the uncle. “It’s a punishment for being Venezuelan.”
Mounting Criticism and Legal Uncertainty
Organizations like Venezolanos Perseguidos Políticos en el Exilio (Veppex) are calling on President Donald Trump’s administration to “reconsider” the blanket application of the Alien Enemies Act to Venezuelan migrants. In an open letter, José Antonio Colina, Veppex’s president, warns that the sweeping policy “could unjustly affect a community that mostly seeks refuge and opportunity in the U.S. after fleeing a humanitarian crisis.” “I humbly ask that any measures be based on specific evidence and fair legal processes,” Colina wrote to the White House. “They should be aimed at actual criminals, not entire groups of people.”
Official answers are still unclear, even with these requests. The administration’s silence extends to federal court actions. Belloso’s family claims that a judge was not able to see the facts about the deportation. The government said this was on account of national security and the use of a very old law.
Legal experts suggest that the privacy surrounding this creates a troubling situation. Those who disagree indicate that, by dealing with migrants from Venezuela in the same way as foreign adversaries, the government risks failing to follow global regulations on asylum. Those detained remain in a prison located in El Salvador. It was constructed to house prominent gang members and individuals seen as terrorists. The detainees are separated from family and lack adequate access to necessary legal assistance. Belloso’s sibling expressed his discontent: “If they do not give facts to a federal judge, they will surely not give them to us.”
With time, neither the U.S. government nor officials from El Salvador have responded. Belloso’s family seeks confirmation on whether he was among those transferred to Cecot. The lack of information impedes their ability to employ a local attorney to secure his release.
Family members in Venezuela wonder why those deported face relocation to a separate nation, particularly one with a well-known prison for suspected leaders of gangs as well as for terrorists. The cause remains unknown, leaving families without clarifications. The man’s uncle explained: “He was just someone who delivered items and waited for his court date.” Furthermore, he added: “Now he has gone into a process that does not tell us what is happening.”
A Call for Transparency and Due Process
The situation of Belloso is a clear example of worries among Venezuelans who now reside in other countries. Many left their country to escape political problems, a very bad financial situation, and great suffering. Many came to the U.S. to seek protection. They face a tough situation. They are often treated like criminals, even without good cause.
Those who defend human rights claim that the prior government’s application of a certain law circumvents normal legal actions in immigration cases, leaving families confused. These supporters desire that the authorities act responsibly. They desire openness about events. They urged officials to reveal what happened to those who suffered deportation. They argue that those who are held must have basic legal safeguards.
Belloso’s family, for example, does not intend to give up. The family stays in touch with ICE offices, consulates in the U.S., and other people who may know something about his place of residence. Each attempt goes nowhere. They worry that he will remain confined for a protracted duration. There are no formal charges nor scheduled hearings. They see him as one more person lost to secret deportations.
Also Read: El Salvador Megaprison and the Unanswered Questions In Bukele’s Crackdown
For families like Belloso’s, urgency is of the essence. As immigration laws in the U.S. shift, they hope a phone call, discovery through the legal process, or public support will end the communication vacuum with their family. They feel this must happen before they run out of options.
