The scale of displacement
Colombia hosts the largest share of the Venezuelan diaspora with 2.8 million migrants, followed by Peru with 1.5 million, according to R4V data. An estimated 1 million additional Venezuelans are in the United States. The displacement was driven by compounding political and economic crises; an estimated 8 in 10 people in Venezuela live in poverty, in a country that was once one of Latin America’s wealthiest and holds the world’s largest proven oil reserves.
Eduardo Constante, 36, left Venezuela in 2017 during what he described as a “hunger crisis.” Speaking from a migrant shelter in the northern Mexican city of Monterrey, he traced a decade-long journey: three months in Colombia, three years in Peru, three years in Chile where he was unable to legalize his status, then the overland trek through South America and the Darién jungle to the U.S. border — arriving just as President Donald Trump closed it to asylum seekers.
“I had plans in Europe, but if things settle down in Venezuela, I’m going to Venezuela,” Constante said. His joy at Maduro’s ouster, he said, was tempered by fear for family members still in Venezuela facing food scarcity and security forces that search people’s phones for signs of opposition activity.
Trump’s position complicates expectations
The diaspora’s caution deepened after Trump said he would work with Maduro’s former vice president, Delcy Rodríguez — now serving as interim president — rather than with the Venezuelan opposition. That left in place a government largely continuous with the one that drove millions from the country over more than a decade.
Maureen Meyer, vice president for programs at WOLA, a Washington-based human rights organization focused on Latin America, said the current situation falls well short of what a safe return would require.
“We’re nowhere near where we’re going to have a country where people that fled … feel that they could be comfortable returning,” Meyer said.
She also warned that Venezuelans being forced out of host countries — whether through political pressure or deportation — would face heightened vulnerability to organized crime networks in the region, whose business of smuggling migrants northward has declined as border crossings fell.
Political pressure mounts in host countries
The political landscape in countries with large Venezuelan populations is shifting rapidly.
In Chile, President-elect José Antonio Kast, who will take office in March, made the deportation of hundreds of thousands of undocumented immigrants a centerpiece of his campaign. This week, Kast said undocumented migrants “have 63 days left to leave our country and to have the possibility of returning with all of their papers in order.”
Kast also met this week with Peru’s interim President José Jerí to discuss creating a humanitarian corridor through Chile, Peru and Ecuador to facilitate Venezuelan returns. Peru and Colombia are both scheduled to hold presidential elections this year, with immigration expected to be a central issue in both.
In Santiago’s eight-block “little Caracas” neighborhood, the car horns and reggaeton music of initial celebrations had quieted. Alexander Leal, 66, who arrived in Santiago with his wife in 2018, said he allows himself to imagine returning one day. “It won’t be this year, but maybe it will be next year,” he said. “That is everyone’s aspiration, that the country is fixed.”
Yessica Mendoza, a 27-year-old Uber driver and mother who is among the thousands of undocumented Venezuelans in Kast’s sights, said she plans to remain despite the warnings. “Returning is not an option,” she said.
Deported and stranded in Mexico
For some Venezuelans, the question of return is not voluntary. Yohanisleska de Nazareth Márquez, 22, heard news of Maduro’s capture while riding a bus through Mexico with her 3-year-old son, days after U.S. immigration agents deported them both from Pennsylvania to Mexico on Jan. 1. She had left Venezuela in February 2024, turned herself in to U.S. Border Patrol that June, and was held before the deportation.
“We all shouted with joy … it was what we all wanted,” Márquez said of learning about Maduro’s fate. But she now faces immediate uncertainties — unsure how long the migrant shelter will house her and worried about reports of kidnappings in the area. “I’m afraid of being out on the street with my son alone. It’s a bit dangerous here,” she said.
Meyer said forces were building to create a “perfect storm” for Venezuelans like Márquez who find themselves outside their country without legal status.
Colombia holds the largest share, navigates its own tensions
Colombia, which has been broadly praised for offering Venezuelan migrants 10-year residency permits, hosts 2.8 million — more than any other country. But it is navigating its own complications. Colombian President Gustavo Petro has had a contentious relationship with Trump, who has at times directed his ire at Bogotá, adding uncertainty for Venezuelans there.
Ángel Bruges, 54, who has lived in Bogotá for six years with his wife and daughter and runs an empanada business, expressed gratitude for Colombia’s welcome while making clear that home is not on his horizon. “Returning would be crazy,” he said.
Meyer said the decisions major host governments make about the Venezuelan population already within their borders will determine the fate of millions.
“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,” she said.
Back in Lima, Torres, the graphic designer, said she was measuring her expectations carefully. She hopes to visit family in Venezuela one day — but for now, she said Peru is “marvelous” as she fields more T-shirt orders. If she doesn’t have what a customer wants, she said, she will make it.