Personal Narrative: My Country Of Venezuela

I come from the richest country in the world, yet also one of the poorest. While Venezuela has the largest reserve of petroleum in the world, besides uranium, gold, coltan, and anything you can ask for, there is hunger, illness, and poverty. If disgrace was awarded, we would win in so many fields: highest inflation, most dangerous cities, corruption, and even 2nd year as the country with the most misery, according to John Hopkins University.

When I was 5 years old, I already knew who Chávez was and why I was not to like him. As I grew up, I witnessed Venezuelans, including me, staying in line for hours to buy food and hygiene products, corruption that got my brother fired for arresting three dishonest judges, doctors like my sisters having to play God and deciding who lived and who died, people close to me being afraid of or getting fired because of voting for the opposition, friends scared because the police broke into their houses and alarming crime rates that I experienced myself with a home invasion and family members mugged, and even kidnapped, multiple times. However, the worse thing I’ve ever seen is Venezuelans forgetting what our country, democracy, and
Now, is all I think of. I cannot live with myself knowing that my nation is suffering while I do nothing. I want to become the person that my country needs me to be by learning in a safe, neutral, and healthy environment with a broader vision than the one Venezuela can offer me. In the meantime, I protest, I inspire others to join, I volunteer for my party “Voluntad Popular”, I write articles in Affinity Magazine, and spread the word through social media and I coordinated movements for my community, state, and teenagers like me through my co-organization “Liceístas por Anzoátegui” which is composed of high schoolers, and was recognized and supported by local politicians, such as the National Assembly Deputies and