BY EMMANUEL OGBONNA
From the White House, President Donald Trump is painting a picture of transformation for Venezuela, promising that American intervention will unlock billions of dollars for infrastructure, revive the country’s once-mighty oil industry and usher in a new era of prosperity. On the streets of Caracas, however, the reality feels far removed from those assurances.
At a sprawling street market in the capital, utility worker Ana Calderón scans produce stalls and does mental arithmetic as prices shift almost by the day. She says she simply wants to afford the ingredients for a basic pot of soup.
“Food is incredibly expensive,” Calderón said, pointing to celery that now costs twice what it did just weeks ago and meat selling for more than $10 a kilogram — roughly 25 times the country’s monthly minimum wage. “Everything is so expensive.”
Venezuelans are still absorbing the shock of the United States’ dramatic capture of former President Nicolás Maduro, alongside sweeping promises from Washington about economic renewal. Yet for many, those pledges feel abstract as they confront inflation, shortages and dwindling purchasing power.
“They know the outlook has significantly changed, but they don’t see it yet on the ground,” said Luisa Palacios, a Venezuelan-born economist and former oil executive who is now a research scholar at Columbia University’s Center on Global Energy Policy. “What people are seeing is repression and confusion. There is hope that things will change, but that doesn’t mean they will change immediately.”
Any optimism about a future turnaround is tempered by the daily struggle most Venezuelans endure. Many work two or three jobs to survive, yet cupboards and refrigerators remain nearly empty. Parents routinely choose between buying food and paying for medicine. Children often go to bed early to dull hunger. Estimates suggest roughly eight in ten Venezuelans live in poverty, a reality that has driven millions to leave the country in recent years.
Those who remain are largely concentrated in cities such as Caracas. In neighborhoods like Catia, markets that were once so crowded shoppers brushed shoulders and dodged traffic have grown noticeably quieter. As prices have surged in recent days, fewer customers can afford to browse the stalls, and the once-chaotic hum has given way to uneasy calm.
Neila Roa, carrying her 5-month-old baby, sells individual packs of cigarettes to passersby. Each day she tracks currency fluctuations so she can adjust prices accordingly.
“Inflation, more inflation, and devaluation,” Roa said. “It’s out of control.”
Like many others, she struggled to believe the news of Maduro’s capture. Now she wonders what it will mean in practice. Repairing Venezuela’s battered economy, she said, would require nothing short of a miracle.
“What we don’t know is whether the change will be for better or worse,” Roa said. “We’re living with uncertainty. We have to see how much it can really improve our lives.”
Trump has said the United States intends to distribute part of the proceeds from Venezuelan oil sales back to the population. For now, however, the administration’s focus appears centered on advancing U.S. strategic and economic interests: increasing oil output, expanding opportunities for American companies and repairing Venezuela’s decaying electricity grid.
The White House is set to host U.S. oil executives to discuss Venezuela, as the Trump administration presses for broader access to the country’s vast but deteriorated energy sector. In a recent interview, Trump acknowledged that rebuilding the oil industry would take time. “The oil will take a while,” he said.
Venezuela holds the world’s largest proven oil reserves, and its economy has long depended almost entirely on petroleum revenues. That dependence once fueled prosperity. After Hugo Chávez was elected president in 1998, soaring oil prices financed expansive social programs, from housing to education, generating an estimated $981 billion in revenues between 1999 and 2011. But corruption, mismanagement and declining production gradually eroded that foundation, with the crisis becoming unmistakable by 2012.
Chávez named Maduro as his successor before his death in 2013. Under Maduro, Venezuela’s political, social and economic crises deepened as oil output plunged and sanctions tightened. The middle class all but vanished, poverty surged and more than 7.7 million people fled the country.
Economists say restoring the oil industry could have a powerful ripple effect. Albert Williams, an economist at Nova Southeastern University, said a revival could spur activity across the economy, from restaurants and retail to transportation and services.
“If you improve the oil industry, you improve the country,” Williams said. “The real questions are whether it happens, how long it takes, and how the political system adapts to a shift in power.”
The challenges are immense. The International Monetary Fund estimates Venezuela’s inflation rate at 682%, the highest among countries it tracks. The monthly minimum wage remains frozen at 130 bolivars, about $0.40, far below the United Nations’ extreme poverty benchmark of $2.15 per day. The currency collapse prompted Maduro to declare an “economic emergency” earlier this year, but conditions have continued to deteriorate.
Usha Haley, an economist at Wichita State University who studies emerging markets, said there is little reason to expect quick relief for most Venezuelans.
“In the short term, people are unlikely to feel much improvement,” she said. “One oil sale won’t fix hyperinflation or a broken currency. Jobs, prices and exchange rates don’t change overnight.”
After years of upheaval, many Venezuelans have developed a grim resilience. A common word echoes through markets and neighborhoods: “resolver” — to figure it out. It reflects the improvised nature of daily life, where every bus ride, grocery purchase or pharmacy visit requires careful calculation.
At the market, the smell of fish, onions and car exhaust hangs in the air. Calderón weaves through the stalls, confronting prices that have jumped sharply as the bolivar continues to slide against the U.S. dollar. The shift, she said, has been dramatic.
In the end, she left carrying only a bunch of celery. Meat, she decided, would have to wait.
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