Rodmel José Angulo Orta

 

Rodmel José Angulo Orta, 32, is from the La Guaira state of Venezuela, according to his wife, Romeyvi Ortiz. He grew up the oldest of three brothers, graduated from High School and started college, but dropped out to support his family. Romeyvi describes Rodmel as a loving person who is a good listener. “He loves to travel and explore new places. He's not a party person; he’s more family oriented. He's very easygoing and really likes to help others,” she said.

 

Romeyvi met Rodmel in met in 2008 when they were in High School and have been together for seventeen years. They have two boys, ages 12 and 10. After school, Rodmel worked in the restaurant business, as a bartender, waiter and barista.

 

Romeyvi said that her husband has four tattoos, something incorrectly used by the US to identify members of the Venezuelan prison gang, Tren de Aragua, according to experts. Rodmel’s tattoos include the names of his two children, the planet Saturn, and an octopus. “He has no criminal record in Venezuela, Ecuador, Mexico or the US,” Romeyvi said. She also firmly denies that he has ever been part of any gang.

 

The family lived for six years in Ecuador because of the economic situation in Venezuela but returned when Ecuador became dangerous. “There were a lot of hitmen, a lot of robberies, you couldn't go out on the street, and I had already had quite a few scares. In Ecuador, I was practically kidnapped, and we also had two businesses, one for services and one for fast food, and they were already charging us protection money. They threatened to steal our children. So that was the last straw,” Romeyvi said. But when they returned to Venezuela, they faced the same economy that had driven them to migrate to Ecuador, “we had plates, but there was no food,” Romeyvi said.

 

Rodmel has relatives who were in the United States, and they told him about the opportunity to enter legally using CPB-1. So, Rodmel, his brother and a cousin left Venezuela on the 25th of November 2023. “They left for a better future, for their children, for their family, because no matter how hard you work here, you can’t get ahead,” said Romeyvi. Rodmel wanted her and the boys to come with them, but Romeyvi didn’t want to put her children through the difficult journey, so they decided he should go first and then send for them once he was established.

 

The journey to the US was indeed difficult. Rodmel developed kidney stones from dehydration. His brother panicked in the Darien where they saw dead bodies and Romeyvi said they gave their food to a woman with six kids traveling alone.  Then, Rodmel had to spend nearly a year waiting for his CPB-one appointment in Mexico. While he was waiting, he found work in a market.

 

Rodmel was finally able to enter the US legally on a CPB-1 appointment on October 4, 2024. From the border, he traveled to Washington DC where he had relatives. He applied for a work permit and had a pending immigration court appointment. At first, he worked Uber, and later, on a military base. He was excited about all the new things there, Romeyvi remembers. “When it started snowing, he sent me photos, he also sent me a photo of people decorating outside,” she said.

 

After Donald Trump won the Whitehouse, Rodmel became concerned about mass deportations and worried about his safety in the US. He has some cousins living in Canada who encouraged him to come there and claim asylum, which he did on February 5, 2025. “He thought it would be quicker to get all the papers he needed to bring me and the kids there,” Romeyvi said.

 

Instead of allowing Rodmel to enter, Canadian officials arrested him and handed him over to US Immigration. “I have a text message where he says, ‘I'm at the Buffalo border,’ but the next day, he called me and said that they had detained him,” Romeyvi said.

 

He asked multiple times, but Immigration officials didn’t give Rodmel any reason for his detention. He did have a court date for March 18, however, on the date, he received a message on the tablet in detention that his charges had been dismissed. Romeyvi said they never knew what those charges were. By that time, Rodmel had been moved from Buffalo to Arizona, and his uniform color had been changed first to green and then to red, the color of violent detainees. Rodmel asked the guards and even messaged the detention officer through the tablet why he was changed to a red uniform, but nobody gave him answers. “He was upset about it; he was depressed and desperate to get out. He seemed afraid too. They didn’t treat him well in there. I told him to be calm, he hadn’t done anything,” Romeyvi said.

 

Then on the 10th of April 2025, Rodmel wrote to his wife that he was going to call, but he call didn’t come. There was an error message. Romeyvi waited, but still no call. “My love, I will call in 5 minutes,” was the last message she had from her husband.

 

“On the 11th, nothing, he had credit on the phone to call, but there was no call. called his cousin in the US and she said she hadn’t heard from him either. Then on April 12th, I saw a post on Instagram that said they had taken 7 or 10 more people to El Salvador.”

 

“By that time the relatives of the first 238 men were already protesting that those young people were innocent. So, when I saw that post I had a terrible feeling. I passed the information on to my father-in-law, and he said to me ‘Romy, stay calm, his tattoo doesn't link him to anything, he has no criminal record.” I tell him, ‘No, Rodrigo, they're not sending criminals there, they're sending innocent people,’” Romeyvi remembers.

 

The days went by, with no contact from Rodmel. His family became more and desperate; they went to the capital of Venezuela to file a missing person’s report. Finally, there was a news report listing the names of the seven Venezuelans believed to be on the April 13 flight. Rodmel’s name was on the list.

 

Since then, things have been difficult for Romeyvi both emotionally and financially. There was shame too, “because, well, they humiliated him, accusing him of ugly things that he has never done in his life.”  Their 12-year-old son started banging his head against the wall. Romeyvi had to take him to a therapist because of his stress and worry about his dad. On his recent birthday, their younger boy asked for nothing else than his papa to be released.

 

Rodmel was the breadwinner of the family, and Romeyvi has had to ask her family for help for basic necessities for her and her boys. She also has participated in many marches and protests, trying to get the attention of anyone who can help get her husband released.

 

Phone conversation with Romeyvi Ortiz July 14, 2025.

https://x.com/SecRubio/status/1911430462305694170

https://www.instagram.com/raicesvenezolanasmiami/reel/DIcCwW7N-Hg/?api=Top%2Bpartners%F0%9F%94%A5%2BAlliance%3A%2Ba%2Bcombination%2Bof%2Binstitutional%2Baccounts%2Band%2Bordinary%2Baccounts.Top%2Bpartners.mxkc&hl=zh-cn

https://www.nilc.org/resources/tracking-the-cecot-disappearances/