The article discusses the experiences of Venezuelan expatriates in Panama, focusing on the increasing hostility they face. Carlos, a professional who moved to Panama as a stepping stone, and Laura, a designer from Caracas, share their personal stories of discrimination and xenophobia. Initially, Panama was welcoming, offering opportunities for work and growth. However, as the number of Venezuelan expats increased, public sentiment shifted. Venezuelans now face mockery on television, difficulties in obtaining work due to perceived job theft, and bureaucratic hurdles. Companies are reluctant to hire Venezuelans, fearing backlash. The government's stance is also seen as unwelcoming, with strict visa processes and tolerance of negative media portrayal. Both Carlos and Laura feel victimized, not only by the need to leave Venezuela but also by the treatment they receive in Panama, which they once considered a refuge.

The article narrates the author's experience as a fixer for a foreign journalist named Nils, attempting to exchange US dollars for Venezuelan bolívars in cash amidst the country's severe currency and economic crisis. The author describes their risky journey through the black market in downtown Caracas, encountering various individuals and unofficial traders in a quest to find someone willing to make the exchange. Despite the dangers and the palpable tension of potentially being robbed, they eventually find a place where the transaction is completed. The story highlights the difficulties and risks associated with obtaining cash in a country with a shortage of banknotes and rampant inflation.

The article discusses the increasing trend of Venezuelans emigrating due to the country's political and social instability. It highlights the long lines at the Embassy of Portugal in Caracas, where people wait from the early hours to apply for European passports, seeking a way out of Venezuela. The narrative includes personal stories of those affected, including a doctor who has been kidnapped twice and a salesman who decided to leave following the establishment of the Constituyente. The article paints a picture of desperation and fear among citizens, with many looking to their ancestral roots in Europe as a means to escape the deteriorating conditions in their homeland. The situation is so dire that businesses near consulates have shifted from selling beers at night to coffee and breakfasts for those waiting in line. The article conveys a sense of urgency and the sentiment that for many, leaving Venezuela is a matter of life or death.

The article discusses the complexities and confusion surrounding the current election system in Venezuela. It highlights the difficulties faced by older voters who are not adept at using the internet to find information about the voting process and candidates. The election features thousands of candidates, all representing the ruling party, but with little to no recognition among the voters. The article also points out the weak voter education campaign by the Consejo Nacional Electoral (CNE), with changes in voting conditions and the process being poorly communicated. Voters are expected to vote for numbers rather than names, leading to a likelihood of random selection. The article includes anecdotes from voters expressing their confusion and lack of understanding of the process.

Maryuri Andreína González, a reporter for VIVOPlay, became an unintentional war correspondent while covering a 'cacerolazo' in a barrio of Caracas. She and her team were kidnapped by armed civilians, known as 'colectivos', and later detained by the National Guard and Military Counterintelligence. Accused of 'war journalism' without accreditation, they were stripped of their equipment and held captive. After a tense wait and an argument among their captors, they were taken to a military base and eventually released without explanation. Despite the fear and risks, Maryuri continues to report on the protests, taking precautions to avoid recognition by the colectivos. She emphasizes the importance of solidarity among journalists in Venezuela and remains committed to her profession, despite the dangers involved.

The article tells the story of 'Roberto', a pseudonym for a man who secretly participates in protests against the government in Venezuela as part of a group called La Resistencia. Despite the risks of being discovered by his family or the authorities, he is committed to fighting for a better future for his country and his young daughter. Roberto describes the physical and emotional toll the protests have taken on him and his friends, who have become adept at evading the police and dealing with the dangers of the streets. He expresses disillusionment with the opposition leaders, who he feels abandon the protesters when danger arises. The article provides a personal insight into the life of a protester living a double life, highlighting the sacrifices and risks involved in the ongoing struggle for change in Venezuela.

The article recounts the harrowing experience of 'Luis' (a pseudonym), a young protester in Caracas, Venezuela, who became a victim of police brutality. After participating in a protest on May 30th, Luis was attacked by National Police officers while trying to return home. Despite being prepared for confrontation, the violence he faced was unexpected and severe. The officers beat him, attempted to rob him, and threatened to arrest him. A female officer intervened, asking the others to stop the beating. Luis managed to escape and found refuge in a Cruz Verde paramedics' truck before receiving medical attention at Salud Chacao. Despite the trauma, Luis returned to the protests the following day, driven by his conviction that giving up would mean losing his country.

The article provides an intimate look into the lives of families and patients at the J.M. de los Ríos Children's Hospital in Venezuela. Despite the hospital's dilapidated state, lack of medical supplies, and the unwelcoming environment for journalists and NGOs, the author discovers a strong sense of community and solidarity among the patients' families. Mothers share their harrowing experiences of caring for their sick children with limited resources, often relying on donations and support from NGOs. The families form close bonds, helping each other navigate the challenges of obtaining medication and caring for their children. The article highlights the dire conditions of the healthcare system in Venezuela, the economic struggles faced by the families, and the resilience and camaraderie that emerge in the face of adversity.

The article discusses the Venezuelan government's strategy of disqualifying political opponents to maintain power. It highlights the recent disqualification of Henrique Capriles, a prominent opposition leader and former presidential candidate, from running for office. The government's pattern of disqualifications began in 2008 with Leopoldo López, who was barred from running for office and later imprisoned. Other opposition figures like Manuel Rosales, Enzo Scarano, Pablo Pérez, and María Corina Machado have also faced similar bans. The article suggests that this tactic is not unique to Venezuela and is employed by autocratic regimes worldwide to limit genuine democratic competition.