Arturo Suárez, the Venezuelan reggaeton musician, known by his stage name SuarezVzla, recently went public about his frightening ordeal. He spent 125 days in Cecot, the most feared prison of El Salvador. Suárez was one of 252 Venezuelans who had become stuck in the facility. Their plight originally resulted from Donald Trump’s anti-immigrant policies. His imprisonment began in February 2017. One of the first things was the arrest of him, just three weeks after Trump’s inauguration, when ICE agents arrested him.
Suárez’s path became precarious after he was re-deported to Cecot in mid-March. He painted a grim portrait of the prison atmosphere—oppressive and hopeless—describing how prisoners were subjected to extreme physical and psychological torture. Inmates became so despondent that some even threatened suicide over their deteriorating living circumstances.
The best thing they did for us was to provide us with a Bible. Suárez described how they turned to God for relief and comfort. He focused on how this faith was key to not losing a single person to suicide during those dark days.
Inside Cecot, inmates endured beatings and verbal abuse, with one particularly chilling encounter involving the prison’s warden who greeted them with a menacing proclamation: “Welcome to hell! Welcome to the cemetery of the living dead! You’ll leave here dead!” This ominous signal served as an introduction to the alarming conditions that awaited Suárez and his fellow detainees.
The conditions within Cecot were deplorable. Inmates had to go months without basic necessities and finished receiving shampoo, razors and soap until June 15, he said. When protests occurred, guards usually responded with extreme force. Suárez felt the worst effects of that culture in a guard beating him in the face and breaking his glasses.
Even amidst the relentless violence and hopelessness, evil as it was, Suárez discovered magic. He penned an anthem, “Cell 31,” that is both blistering and beautiful. It struck a chord with his fellow inmates and became an anthem for their collective agony. The lyrics reflected their struggle, providing them with a sense of possibility in the midst of the chaos.
As part of a larger prisoner exchange between Washington and Caracas, on July 18, 2017, Suárez was finally released. He came back to his native Caracas with a feeling of compassion towards those who imprisoned him. He audaciously claimed that for him, the trauma of what he had been through was all behind him.
“The truth must be … heard all over the world. Otherwise what they did to us will be ignored,” – Suárez.
Suárez is looking for accountability for his traumatic experience. With assistance from the Democracy Defenders Fund, he has filed a $1.3 million lawsuit against the U.S. government. He is seeking a ruling that his detention and treatment violated his constitutional rights.
The wider story of Suárez’s detention paints a picture showing the dangerous turmoil within the prison system. Noah Bullock is a tireless champion for human rights. He continued to highlight the culture of abuse embedded at the top levels of leadership at these institutions.
“There’s clearly a culture coming from the leadership of the prison system to inculcate the guards into operating this way, into using dehumanising and physical abuse in a systematic way,” – Bullock noted.
Suárez’s story serves as a poignant reminder of the harsh realities faced by many immigrants caught in the crosshairs of political agendas. He’s emerged as a fierce champion for others who continue to struggle like he once did, calling for accountability and change.
“We aren’t terrorists! We aren’t criminals! Help!” – Venezuelan prisoners.
That is the measure of success.” Suárez speaks about his experiences with palpable emotion. His goal now is to shine light on the cruelty and injustices of Cecot’s detainees and other detention centers. His faithfulness in teaching about these abuses is an act of faith, to make sure we do not forget these abuses.