In Venezuela, political change and food costs don鈥檛 add up
| Caracas, Venezuela
Alexandra Rodr铆guez Urbina, a young nurse in Caracas, has not had a day off in nearly two weeks. She moves between clinic and hospital shifts, starting before sunrise and often finishing long after dark. At night, if she鈥檚 not too exhausted, she bakes cakes and cookies to sell the next day to patients and colleagues.
When she finally gets a day off, she spends it at the supermarket. Before going, she makes a list: vegetables, chicken, eggs, milk, maybe meat or sausages. But the list rarely holds. Prices change quickly, and what she can afford one week can slip out of reach the next.
Ms. Rodr铆guez no longer shops at her usual supermarket; it became too expensive last year. She now goes to a cheaper Chinese-run store, adjusting as she moves through the aisles. She picks up a package of sausages, checks the price, and puts it back. At the meat counter, she takes a number, hesitates, then leaves. This week, she decides, it will be chicken and legumes. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 know if we鈥檒l be able to buy red meat ever again,鈥� she says.
Why We Wrote This
Venezuela has one of the highest inflation rates in the world, and the capture of former authoritarian leader Nicol谩s Maduro hasn't improved the economic situation, as many hoped it would. What's giving Venezuelans hope?
It wears on her. 鈥淭he constant recalculating, the feeling that, no matter how much you work, money is never enough,鈥� she says. Countries across the globe are grappling with higher food prices in light of the war in Iran. But in Venezuela, consumers have been struggling for decades with one of the highest inflation rates in the world, regularly hitting triple digits 鈥� and one that hasn鈥檛 budged since the United States captured former authoritarian leader Nicol谩s Maduro on Jan. 3.聽
In recent months, she鈥檚 heard officials in Venezuela and the U.S. speak of economic recovery, rising oil production, and investment. But standing in the supermarket aisle, doing the math in her head, those changes don鈥檛 yet align with her reality.聽
鈥淩eal improvements鈥�
Venezuela holds the world鈥檚 largest oil reserves, which once powered its status as one of Latin America鈥檚 strongest economies. But through corruption, mismanagement, and U.S. sanctions, Venezuela fell into one of deepest economic collapses in modern history, starting in 2014.
Today, close to 75% of the population lives in poverty.聽
For many Venezuelans, the most urgent problem is painfully familiar: Prices continue to rise, wages keep losing value, and no matter how much they work, the money is never enough.
Venezuela鈥檚 economy is no longer in free fall. It has modestly grown over the past few years, supported by a partial recovery in oil production and a wider circulation of dollars. Since Mr. Maduro鈥檚 removal, that stabilization has entered a new phase.
Washington has eased sanctions, and under pressure from the Trump administration, acting President Delcy Rodr铆guez has moved to overhaul oil sector rules. New laws grant private companies greater control over production and sales, ending the state oil company鈥檚 monopoly and allowing disputes to be settled through independent arbitration.
Oil revenues are now routed into U.S.-controlled bank accounts in a bid to increase transparency and attract foreign investment, though some U.S. lawmakers have called for stricter oversight.聽
鈥淚t鈥檚 not just perception 鈥� there are real improvements,鈥� says Venezuelan economist Luis Vicente Le贸n. 鈥淏ut it鈥檚 not yet a recovery that people fully feel in their pockets.鈥�
According to the Caracas-based polling firm Datanalisis, positive assessments of the country鈥檚 general situation rose from 19% in October 2025 to more than 55% in February 2026. And 71% of Venezuelans expect living conditions to improve.聽
But, 鈥渆xpecting immediate results would be like running a marathon the day after coming out of solitary confinement,鈥� says Mr. Le贸n. It鈥檚 not realistic.
For now, structural constraints, including unreliable electricity and labor shortages caused by years of out-migration, continue to limit jobs and income growth. Private investment is expanding beyond oil into sectors such as construction and technology. But projects will take time to materialize. And food prices remain top of mind for society.
An opportunity?
Older adults have become some of the most vulnerable to Venezuela鈥檚 economic crisis. A study by the nonprofit Convite found that Venezuelan seniors need about $500 a month to cover food and transportation, while their average income is around $50, a gap of more than 90%.
Carlos Irala, a university professor in his 70s, continues teaching finance at the Central University of Venezuela, earning roughly $60 a month. He鈥檇 like to retire, he says, but doesn鈥檛 have the means.
Mr. Irala, an economist trained in the United Kingdom, never imagined his later years would look like this. At the supermarket, he has cut back on buying protein and has reduced his portion sizes as prices go up. A whole chicken now costs around $10, a sizable chunk of his paycheck.聽
The collapse of Venezuela鈥檚 pension system has deepened the strain on the elderly. Pensions are tied to the minimum wage of 130 bol铆vares per month 鈥� about $0.28 鈥� unchanged since March 2022. On April 30, President Rodr铆guez announced an increase in Venezuela鈥檚 鈥渋ntegral minimum income鈥� to roughly $240 a month. The figure is largely made up of bonuses rather than a raise in the base salary. Those bonuses are not formally part of wages and don鈥檛 count toward pensions or other benefits.
Mr. Irala lives alone, like many of his peers. More than 7.9 million Venezuelans 鈥� roughly a quarter of the population 鈥� have left the country since 2013. Family support systems have weakened, leaving many seniors isolated.聽
Economist Ricardo Hausmann, a professor at Harvard University and former Venezuelan finance minister, says the influx of cash Venezuela needs is unlikely to materialize without democratic change. For 鈥淰enezuela to become investable, you need clear rules and credible institutions,鈥� he says.聽
鈥淲e just want to choose our own leaders,鈥� Ms. Rodr铆guez, the nurse, says.
Despite the struggle to make ends meet, more public protests are taking place, and the government released hundreds of political prisoners, including Ms. Rodr铆guez鈥檚 own mother, who was let out of prison after a year in detention for protesting Venezuela鈥檚 2024 election results. She was one of the hundreds of political prisoners freed following Mr. Maduro鈥檚 removal from power.
鈥淚t鈥檚 not that my financial situation has changed, but for the first time I believe it might,鈥� Ms. Rodr铆guez says. She says she always loved the lasagna her mom made, though she didn鈥檛 make it often because it requires so much time 鈥� and so many ingredients.
Lasagna is a dish in Venezuela for good times, 鈥渇or special occasions like family reunions, when members help out in the kitchen,鈥� she says. She and her mom, who is also a nurse, are working multiple jobs, like so many other Venezuelans. And the cheese and meat that are central to the recipe are out of their budget these days.聽
Still, she looks beyond the grocery store aisle, to a post-Maduro landscape, and feels some hope. 鈥淭his can be an opportunity for Venezuela to do better,鈥� she says. 鈥淢aybe the opportunity of a lifetime.鈥澛�
