Venezuelan prisoners smile to hear of Maduro's fall

Like scores of other prisoners' relatives, the wife -- who asked to be identified only as M. out of fear for her husband's safety -- had slept on the ground near the Rodeo I prison, after the interim government promised to release jailed opponents following Maduro's capture by US forces.

Since that announcement on Thursday, fewer than 20 have been freed -- but Friday was a regular visiting day, so M. was able to get inside to see her husband.

"I discreetly told him: 'The one who had to be jailed is now in jail,'" she said, referring to Maduro, who was captured in a deadly US raid a week ago and taken to New York to face trial on drug-trafficking and weapons charges.

On the other side of the glass that separates inmates from visitors, M. said, her husband "smiled happily."

"Don't be afraid, my love, the worst is over," he dared to tell her, despite armed guards looking on.

M. was more cautious -- Venezuela's authoritarian leftist leadership has reneged on prisoner releases in the past.

"I told him to stay calm because you never know," she said.

"We're so close, yet so far."
Joy at Maduro's fall
For years, political detainees and their families avoided discussing the news during the brief weekly visits, strictly monitored by armed guards.

That code was broken this weekend after the government announced it would release "a large number" of prisoners in an apparent gesture to placate Washington.

On Friday, the first visiting day since Maduro's removal, families shared the news as best they could -- some using coded language and metaphors -- about the ousted leader's departure and the promise of prisoner releases.

Prisoners rejoiced upon hearing the news, but outside their relatives were tense on Saturday morning, fearing guards might punish inmates for celebrating.

"You never know if they were beaten or thrown into the time machine," said the sister of another detainee, referring to a punishment cell used in the jail.

"There they lock them up naked, handcuffed, hooded for days or weeks, with very little food, in darkness and without ventilation," she said.

Like other relatives outside the jail, she asked not to be identified out of fear.

A man whose brother-in-law has been jailed for more than five years cautioned: "You have to stay calm and patient" while waiting for the prisoners to be released.

"They will get out, but not like people think. It's not as if they're going to fling the doors open like a bull run."
Hostile reception
On Saturday, family visits also proceeded as usual, but in smaller groups.

At 7:00 am, relatives brought packages: deodorant, toothpaste, soap and shampoo in labeled plastic bags, plus disinfectant and bleach -- provisions essential for maintaining hygiene in the latrines of tiny cells.

Visiting relatives, who are required to wear white, took turns to walk to the entrance of the prison complex in Guatire, some 50 kilometers (30 miles) east of Caracas.

"They hooded us as always and searched us," said the mother of two detainees.

"I felt they were more hostile today. They must be angry," added the wife of another prisoner.

Some inmates told visitors they could hear the national anthem and hymns sung by families who have held vigils nearby for the past two nights.

"We have to keep going. It gives them strength," said a young woman who arrived Thursday afternoon.

Another woman said her husband looked emaciated when she saw him inside.

"He had diarrhea for two days. We think they're putting something in the food," she said.

"Who knows? They could poison them."

Another relative interrupted her. "You have to have faith," she said. "It is only a matter of hours."