Venezuelan families in Colombia face integration challenges and desire to return home
Translated from Spanish and summarized by DistantNews. Read the original for the full story.
At a glance
- Millions of Venezuelans have settled in Colombia, transforming the border region into a place of solidarity, but political uncertainty now threatens their stability.
- Families like Noรฉ Alvarado's face bureaucratic hurdles in obtaining legal status, despite their children having temporary protection permits.
- While children are achieving educational success in Colombia, the parents remain in legal limbo, longing for a return to Venezuela.
Colombia has become a permanent home for millions of Venezuelans, evolving from a transit territory into a place of refuge due to geographical proximity, family ties, and shared history. However, the stability many have built through hard work is now threatened by political uncertainty and shifting migration policies.
My children complained daily about the power outages. There was no transportation to take them to school, and the economic situation was unsustainable.
Noรฉ Alvarado, a Venezuelan residing in Medellรญn, shared his difficult decision to leave Venezuela with his wife and two children. He cited the intensification of repression following the July 28, 2024, election process as a primary reason, stating that remaining in Venezuela posed direct risks to his family's safety and future. "My children complained daily about the power outages. There was no transportation to take them to school, and the economic situation was unsustainable," Alvarado said. "With the regime's persecution of witnesses and poll workers who participated in the 2024 election, it was impossible to endure and remain silent. I fought until the end, but for the well-being and future of my children, we had to leave."
The family's migration occurred in stages. His children and wife traveled to Medellรญn first, supported by a relative. Alvarado remained in Venezuela for several months to earn money for their travel and documentation. "My wife helped me pay for the passport, which cost 216 dollars," he recalled.
With the regime's persecution of witnesses and poll workers who participated in the 2024 election, it was impossible to endure and remain silent. I fought until the end, but for the well-being and future of my children, we had to leave.
Upon arrival in Colombia, his children received Temporary Protection Permits (PPT). Alvarado and his wife, however, are still awaiting a response to their asylum applications, relying only on a safe-conduct pass. Despite legal and social support from the Intรฉgrate Center in Medellรญn, their legal limbo persists. Alvarado questions the disparity: "How is it possible that my children have PPT and we do not?" he asks, referring to regulatory obstacles. Even the PEP-Tutor mechanism, designed to regularize parents of children with PPT, is not a viable option for them, as it requires the child's document to have been issued before December 31, 2023, excluding those who migrated later.
My wife helped me pay for the passport, which cost 216 dollars.
Despite the challenges of displacement, their children's educational achievements affirm their decision to emigrate. "My children are only three years away from finishing high school. They have excellent grades and receive an education that was impossible in Venezuela, because there are unprepared individuals occupying teaching positions solely due to political affiliation with the regime," Alvarado stated. Nevertheless, the situation has become tense following proposals to tighten migration policies.
How is it possible that my children have PPT and we do not?
Originally published by El Nacional in Spanish. Translated, summarized, and contextualized automatically by DistantNews, with a note on how the source frames the story. Not individually reviewed before publishing. How this works.