Caracas Chronicles

The Local Dispatch features selected stories from local journalists and media organizations who are reporting news from deep inside Venezuela. Every week, the stories that have no visibility abroad but paint the most accurate picture of what’s actually happening

Maduro’s fractured Christmas bonuses

Nicolás Maduro’s decree for an early Christmas only fuels more outrage among Venezuela’s public workers, who for years have received their year-end bonuses in three parts, a scheme further impacted by inflation and a 20% gap between the official and parallel dollar exchange rates. This year, government employees, with a minimum wage of $3.50 at the official rate, will get a $32 Christmas bonus, divided into three payments before December.

“They pretend to bring Christmas early, while also messing with our wages. If we truly receive $30, we won’t even be able to buy groceries for a week,” said Venezuelan healthcare worker Teresa Ramírez to El Pitazo. Today, it takes 16 government bonuses to afford a basic food basket. “As long as we earn 130 bolívares, bonuses and vacations will mean nothing,” added Mauro Zambrano, coordinator of the Venezuelan Workers’ Union.

In southern Venezuela, things are tougher than ever, too—just check the comprehensive coverage of Correo del Caroní. With the collapse and shutdown of operations in the Venezuelan Corporation of Guayana (CVG), about 6,000 employees have been deemed “non-essential,” earning only 30% of a standard salary. Consequently, their state assistance and Christmas bonuses have also shrunk, as Armando Simosa told reporter Francesca Díaz. Simosa fears that their year-end bonuses—typically equivalent to 120 days’ wages—will be paid based on their reduced salaries, now around $40-50 per month. Though Maduro once stated that sidelined workers should earn the same as active ones, as October’s first payment looms, they remain in the dark about their Christmas budgets.

Praying: the only medicine available if bitten by a snake in Venezuela

Antivenom or suero antiofídico is the only cure for snakebites. Its complex production requires injecting venom into horses or pigs, then extracting their blood. In Venezuela, the only authorized producer is Biotecfar, a company operating out of the Central University’s Faculty of Pharmacy. It supplies the Ministry of Health, which distributes the serum to hospitals nationwide. However, production and distribution falls drastically short of meeting the needs of rural areas.

Pableysa Ostos highlights the plight of Ramón Chonoko, an Eñepá indigenous man who has survived nearly a month after being bitten by a mapanare snake, without receiving antivenom. According to her report for La Patilla, there are only two antivenom kits available in pharmacies in Bolívar state, each priced at $468 each. Chonoko’s treatment requires six of these antivenom kits, which would cost nearly $3,000 in total. His family traveled long distances from their remote village near an Orinoco tributary to multiple hospitals, eventually reaching San Félix’s Raúl Leoni Hospital in Bolívar’s northeast. Remarkably, Chonoko has survived far beyond the typical 3-4 day fatal window for snakebite victims.

In 2023, Efecto Cocuyo and El Carabobeño warned about fatal consequences for indigenous communities, as well as counterfeit antivenom circulating in Venezuela’s market. The Fundación IO estimates that 60 people die annually from snakebites in the country.

Once again, families displaced by river flooding in Ciudad Bolívar

With the state’s growing ineptitude and the effects of El Niño, Venezuela’s rainy season has become synonymous with uncertainty and loss for its most isolated communities. In July, we witnessed the Cumanacoa tragedy which left seven dead and almost 8,000 families affected; small villages like Curaima, in southern Bolívar, were cut off by river floods and bridge collapses; and the torrential rains battered the Experimental University of Guayana, as Pableysa Ostos also reported.

The government’s inability to protect these areas is evident, as highlighted by Crónica Uno. On October 5, 2022, the Cañafístola River overflowed, affecting the namesake town and La Dinamita neighborhood, where a teenage girl nearly died, according to Jhoalys Siverio. Governor Ángel Marcano promised to rebuild homes or relocate families, but nothing came of it. Exactly two years later, on October 5, 2024, 20 families in Cañafístola and five in La Dinamita were displaced again. As the river rises, locals can only secure their belongings and try to flee.

“We can only put our faith in God because we’re living in tremendous agony. The neighbors don’t sleep. They just watch the sky darken and fear for their homes and children,” said Merlin Soto, a resident.

Suggested reads:

• El Pitazo: Caracas shaken by three femicides in the first week of October. Román Camacho covered the cases of María José Uzcátegui (23), Maira Castro (32), and Mercedes Herrera (40).
• Fe y Alegría: Maduro approved cassiterite mining, a key tin ore, in two Orinoco Mining Arc locations. The Venezuelan Mining Corporation will reportedly oversee it “in harmony with nature and indigenous peoples.”
• Crónica Uno: Diana Duque, the biologist equipping Barinas’ libraries while researching spider monkeys in the Caparo Forest Reserve.
• Crónica Uno: Two powerful features on how pollution in Lake Maracaibo, shifting winds, and state neglect are affecting tourism and fishing economies in the historic settlement of Santa Rosa de Agua.