They were the worst 125 days of his life: locked up in a foreign prison, allegedly subjected to torture, never knowing when or even if he would ever get out.
Jerce Reyes said he, along with 251 other Venezuelan migrants, felt like the “living dead” inside El Salvador’s Center for Terrorism Confinement. They had been deported there from the US after being accused of gang involvement – a claim that Reyes and many others deny.
Reyes described his four-month detention in Cecot as agonizing, saying detainees were frequently beaten by guards, couldn’t communicate with their families, never had access to attorneys and were told by a prison official that this “hell on Earth” would be their permanent home.
CNN has reached out to the Salvadoran presidency for comment on the migrants’ claims of abuse but has not yet received a response. In the past, the government has said it respects the human rights of those in its custody “regardless of nationality,” and that its prison system complies with standards of security and order.
Amid so much uncertainty in prison, Reyes said he clung on to scattered rays of hope that kept him going. Chief among them was his faith.
Speaking to CNN from Machiques, Venezuela, days after all 252 migrants were released in a prisoner exchange, Reyes said prayer was what helped him most.
“I prayed to God a lot: ‘God hear my prayers, hear my mother’s prayers … hear the prayers of my family, of all the families of the people who are here. I know that you hear their prayers. Get me out of here,’” he recalled saying.
He frequently read the Bible, one of the few items that inmates were given in their cells. Before going to bed, he said he also asked God to send him omens in his dreams to know whether he would ever leave the prison.
“And I dreamed I was on a soccer field. Specifically, at the sports center here in town,” he said, which he took as a sign that he would be playing there one day after his eventual release.
He also dreamed of his daughters, Carla and Isabela, whom he hadn’t seen since he left Venezuela for the US last year. “I dreamed that my youngest daughter was already grown up, that she was already going to school, and I said, ‘That’s a sign. I know that I’m going to come out here because I’m going to see her at school.’”
Reyes spoke with an unwavering sense of optimism, a trait he said is part of his personality and something that also lifted the spirits of his fellow detainees.
But that cheerful mindset was often tested, he said, when he and his cellmates were struck by guards, often for disobeying Cecot’s strict rules.
They were only allowed to shower once a day around 4 a.m., using the same water they drank from. On a hot day, he said he showered to keep cool at a time he wasn’t allowed to. The guards caught him, entered the cell, beat him up and sent him to a smaller insolated cell as punishment, he said.
Several ex-detainees who spoke to CNN in recent days gave similar accounts, alleging that they were frequently beaten by guards and even shot with rubber bullets for staging a hunger strike.
“We went on strike because we demanded to communicate with other families, to know what was happening to us,” Reyes said.
Reyes said he left Venezuela last year due to economic insecurity and applied for asylum in the US in December. But in March, the US Department of Homeland Security accused him of being in the country illegally and belonging to the infamous gang Tren de Aragua, claiming he has tattoos “that are consistent with those indicating TdA gang membership.”
Reyes denies this. He says the tattoo that apparently incriminated him shows a crown and soccer ball, which he says represents his favorite team Real Madrid.
CNN has verified that Reyes has no criminal record in his home country, and his tattoo artist says he inked him in 2018, when Tren de Aragua was barely known inside Venezuela, let alone abroad.
Reyes was among the first group of Venezuelan migrants sent to Cecot on March 16. In the first two weeks, they were completely cut off from the outside world and did not know if anyone else was aware of their situation, he says.
But at the end of March, a second group of Venezuelan detainees arrived from the US. From them, Reyes learned for the first time that their story was getting global attention and that their relatives were desperately fighting for their release.
He recalled one of the new arrivals saying: “People are mobilizing with us outside. Your sister, your mother, and your aunt gave a television interview. And people are moving for us.”
Reyes said the news gave everyone hope and, at least for the moment, made them forget about the prison official’s initial warning that they would never leave that “hell.”
Two months into their detention, there was another hopeful dispatch when the detainees were visited by members of the Red Cross. The organization had been in touch with their family members, giving the inmates their first real line of communication with the outside.
Reyes said the detainees relayed short messages through the organization, which took notes of what they said and delivered them to their families.
“I told my sister – I cried – and I told her, ‘Take care of my mom, my dad, take care of my daughters. We’ll be leaving soon, we’ll see each other soon, we’ll be together.’ It was a short message,” he said.
The visit also gave them another reason to carry on because, according to Reyes, they knew their families hadn’t forgotten them.
Their final hopeful sign came about a week ago, when their treatment suddenly changed. No longer were they yelled at or beaten, the migrants said. Instead, they were given new haircuts, better food and fresh clothing.
Around 2 a.m. last Friday, a senior officer entered their ward, telling them they had 20 minutes to shower. They were going home.
“And everyone started screaming, and everyone started crying. I started crying, and I cried because we already had a feeling we were going,” Reyes told CNN.
Caracas and Washington had struck a deal that guaranteed the release of all 252 Venezuelan migrants from El Salvador in exchange for 10 US nationals and dozens of political prisoners held in Venezuela.
The migrants arrived in Venezuela on Friday night and underwent several days of health, immigration, and criminal background checks, among other procedures. By Monday, some were gradually allowed to reunite with their families across the country.
Reyes returned home to Machiques on Tuesday night, greeted by a roaring crowd of about 600 people, including relatives and neighbors. They had decorated his house with hand-drawn banners and a football-themed balloon arrangement of his favorite club Real Madrid.
The crowd chanted his name, cried and threw foam in the air as Reyes hugged his mother Antonia and daughter Carla. He then went to the back of the house to greet his father, telling him: “It’s me, Dad. I’m OK. I’m back and I’m not leaving again.”
Reyes said he returned home as a changed a man.
Asked whether he has a message for US President Donald Trump, whose immigration crackdown led to his imprisonment, Reyes again cited a lesson he learned from the Bible: “Do not judge by appearances, but with justice.”
