I live in fear. I live in fear that when I return from this kind of work and this kind of testimony around the world, they will close the door of the jail and I won't be able to see Leopoldo. I fear that they will punish me. And I fear persecution from the police—always. There is a car from the police, the government, that is always with me. They say hello and I say hello, and they say, “we need to do this”. But it's not good, and it is not easy. It's difficult.
But inside of my heart and inside of my mind I feel good because I am doing the thing that I need to do for my country and for my husband, and I can't stop. Day one, I stop. One of the military in Ramo Verde told me, “If you shut up, you're going to have visits. If not, I'm going to close off your visits.” I say, “Okay, so close my visits because I can't stop.” I'm talking about human rights. I'm talking about respect. I'm talking about all of our Venezuelan people who can't talk because they are silenced and they are persecuted.
María Corina Machado is one of my partners, and she can't go out of Venezuela because they ordered that she can't go out and speak about her country. It's amazing. We live in fear, but I don't complain because my situation is a proof of life.
I think about the mother of Génesis Carmona, one of the girls that a military shot in the face. She died in his home...in the gate of this building, with a protest. She only wanted a better country, and the military shot her face. [Witness speaks in Spanish], the mother of this girl, is fighting and is looking for justice for her daughter. I always think about [Witness speaks in Spanish, and I think about the mother of Bassil Da Costa, a student, who was murdered on February 12.
I always think about all victims who I represent around the world, and I need to continue. We need to continue, and we have full strength, in fact, that we are going to have change in Venezuela