As the night gave way to morning in Caracas, confusion quickly turned into fear and speculation. Residents in several neighborhoods reported hearing explosions in the distance, followed by the low, unmistakable thrum of helicopters cutting across the predawn sky. In some areas, electricity flickered or went out entirely, plunging homes and streets into darkness and amplifying rumors that something unprecedented was unfolding. Social media filled with shaky videos, some showing smoke rising near military installations, others capturing distant flashes of light or the echo of gunfire whose source could not be confirmed. Government television channels abruptly switched to looping patriotic programming, while state radio fell silent for long stretches, fueling anxiety rather than reassurance. For a population already battered by years of economic collapse, sanctions, and political repression, the sudden sense that the center of power might have been violently disrupted was deeply unsettling. Parents kept children home from school, shops delayed opening, and long lines formed at gas stations and bakeries as people rushed to secure basic necessities. At the same time, opposition figures, many of whom have lived in exile or under constant threat, struggled to determine whether this moment represented a long-awaited turning point or the prelude to chaos. Without an official statement from Venezuelan authorities confirming or denying Maduro’s status, the country seemed suspended in a dangerous limbo, caught between hope and dread.
