Inside a Regime of Psychological Terror: A Testimony from El Helicoide
Sara Urquizu
July 4, 2026

”My this testimony serve to ensure that there are no more testimonies”
– María Oropeza
María Oropeza is a young woman who has never known a free and democratic Venezuela; instead, she grew up listening to speeches against freedom and watching as the Chávez regime expropriated farms, land, homes, inns, and businesses—basically, watching her country gradually descend into economic, political, and social decline. Witnessing her country’s poverty and the regime’s outrageous abuses, she decided to become politically active, eventually becoming the campaign manager for the state of Portuguesa for the party led by María Corina Machado (2026 Nobel Peace Prize laureate).
All of María Oropeza’s activism—and that of her team—was in danger for many years, as the regime persecuted political leaders and dissidents. She lived under threat for many years but never wavered in her activism. On August 6, 2025, María was kidnapped and taken to a place of terror: the Helicoide.

Today, El Helicoide is one of the best-known and most feared prisons in Venezuela because it holds both criminals and political prisoners. This building was not originally built to be a prison; rather, in the 1950s—when Venezuela was still a wealthy country with a bright future—it was intended to be the world’s first shopping center with automotive services. In other words, it was meant to be a symbol of Venezuela’s greatness, standing in a prominent location in the city where it could be seen from various points throughout Caracas. However, it became a symbol of the country’s decline—one that is rarely discussed but feared by many Venezuelans.
There are many documented accounts of the sheer terror prisoners endure there. Sadly, added to these is the story of María, who was transferred from Portuguesa (the state where she lives) directly to the Helicoide, where she was held for 551 days. What María went through is truly hard—from her arrest (which was documented on her social media), her transfer, and everything she had to endure in prison.
She told us that these are places where you share space with other women, crammed into small 3×4 cells. There are no windows, so you don’t know if it’s day or night; you can’t keep track of the dates, and you don’t find out what’s happening outside the Helicoide, because, on top of that, you’re completely cut off from the outside world for long periods of time. She recounts that they sought ways to instill fear; for example, on December 27, they took everyone out in handcuffs and sat them down as if they were in a concentration camp, where they were marked with a number and never told why. María believes the goal was to keep them in a state of fear and indirectly remind them that “you’re a prisoner” and have no freedom.
On top of this, we must consider the unsanitary conditions and lack of maintenance at that facility, which were truly appalling. María tells us that her family had to bring her food on the days they called “paquetería” and even pay for water. She also says that the sanitary conditions were appalling—there were days when they ran out of water, and they had to endure the discomfort of relieving themselves without being able to clean up afterward.
Everything María had to go through, she tells us, involves deeply degrading conditions. And beyond the other terrible cases reported from El Helicoide—where many prisoners were subjected to torture and physical violence—María’s story reminds us that psychological terror is also a means of control and power. The regime learned how to keep Venezuelan citizens in a state of constant terror, so they would not complain, would not protest, and would adapt to the system that had been imposed.
We have heard a great deal about the situation in Venezuela, but there is still much left to tell; there are still around 8 million stories of Venezuelans who have fled their country, and many others of citizens who have been persecuted, censored, and tortured. These are stories that are sometimes difficult to share because they are sensitive and can bring up traumatic memories. María shared all of this with us because she is keenly aware that she was constantly facing a tyrannical regime, and she hopes that her testimony will help ensure that there will be no more testimonies like hers.