Millions of Venezuelans scattered across Latin America are watching closely what comes next after U.S. forces deposed Venezuela’s president, as officials in Washington and in Lima began encouraging some people to go home. The encouragement arrived quickly after the change in Venezuela’s leadership, but many migrants said the decision to return is not immediate.
In Lima, Yanelis Torres, a 22-year-old graphic designer, said the idea of going back had not crossed her mind. She was printing T-shirts in the Lima area’s large textile market that showed images of captured former President Nicolás Maduro with phrases such as “Game Over,” and Torres said her clients were buying the shirts within hours of the news of Maduro’s downfall.
Torres’ view was echoed by others in the diaspora who said they felt both joy and caution when they heard that Maduro had been captured. Some said the caution came in part from U.S. President Donald Trump’s message that Washington would work with Maduro’s vice president, now interim President Delcy Rodríguez, rather than the opposition.
Even as leaders in Peru and Chile echoed U.S. suggestions to return, the story reported that the diaspora does not appear ready to go back. Venezuelans’ reluctance was described as tied to the state of Venezuela’s economy, which the article said remains a “shambles,” and to the idea that, with the exception of Maduro and his wife, the government is still in place.
“I have a lot of things here,” Torres said from her shop in a bustling Lima neighborhood, adding that it would take time for changes to reach Venezuela. Torres said, “You’ve got to keep an eye on it, know what’s going on, but not lose hope,” framing her position as cautious rather than closed.
In Washington, Maureen Meyer, vice president for programs at WOLA, described the return prospects for people who fled as far from settled. Meyer said, “we’re nowhere near where we’re going to have a country where people that fled … feel that they could be comfortable returning.” She also warned that if Venezuelans were pushed out again—either under pressure or through deportations—some could become more vulnerable to organized crime groups that might try to exploit them after the smuggling business north begins to shrink.
The article described a growing humanitarian concern for migrants without legal status. Meyer said forces were building to create a “perfect storm” for Venezuelans who found themselves outside their country and without papers in their host locations. The reporting also described how migrants’ legal situations could be affected by shifting politics across the region.
National data tracking the diaspora put the number of Venezuelan migrants and refugees in Latin America at nearly 7 million, with Colombia at 2.8 million and Peru at 1.5 million, according to R4V, a network tracking the diaspora and coordinated by the UN High Commissioner for Refugees and the International Organization for Migration. The story said an additional estimated 1 million were in the United States, also according to R4V.
The article included accounts from migrants spread across several countries. Eduardo Constante, 36, said he left Venezuela in 2017 during a “hunger crisis,” and later described living in Colombia, Peru and Chile before reaching the U.S. border. Constante said, “I had plans in Europe, but if things settle down in Venezuela, I’m going to Venezuela,” and said his joy at Maduro’s ouster was moderated by worries for family in Venezuela and for security forces that, he said, search people’s cellphones for signs of opposition.
Another migrant, Yohanisleska de Nazareth Márquez, described hearing about Maduro’s capture while riding across Mexico on a bus with her 3-year-old. Márquez said she and other passengers shouted with joy and described the moment as what they “all wanted,” but she also said she was left with uncertainty after being deported. She said she planned to apply for asylum in Mexico and find work, but she expressed fear about living on the streets with her son, saying, “I’m afraid of being out on the street with my son alone. It’s a bit dangerous here.”
As migration conditions potentially tighten, the story pointed to political shifts that could change host-country policy. In Chile, President-elect José Antonio Kast—scheduled to take office in March—made deporting undocumented immigrants a central part of his campaign, and the article quoted Kast saying, “they have 63 days left to leave our country and to have the possibility of returning with all of their papers in order.” The reporting said Kast met Peru’s interim President José Jerí and that they discussed ideas including creating a humanitarian corridor through Chile, Peru and Ecuador to ease Venezuelans’ return home.
Meyer, in turn, said host countries’ responses would be key as decisions are made about people already in their jurisdictions and those who might arrive. She said, “Some of these big host countries, how they decide to respond to the population that are already in their countries and those that may come will be key,” positioning the timeline for any return as dependent on policy and security conditions.
Across the region, migrants described their hopes and limits in different terms. Alexander Leal, 66, said he arrived in Chile with his wife in 2018 and described returning as a longer-term aspiration, saying, “It won’t be this year, but maybe it will be next year,” and, “That is everyone’s aspiration, that the country is fixed.” Leal said Trump’s help would be necessary. In Lima, Torres returned to her own expectations, still producing shirts for customers asking for the deposed president’s image as she measured what, if anything, would change next.