Lima, Peru — For years, Víctor Sono Neira was trapped in a cycle of addiction and crime, operating as an international pickpocket. His life was filled with robberies, escapes, and clashes with the law. However, in an unexpected turn, he decided to live on the streets of Lima, Peru’s Historic Center in search of a new purpose.
Today, at 72 years old, Víctor is a living testimony of change. He resides at the Sembrando Esperanza shelter in the district of Villa María del Triunfo, a home for vulnerable people in situations of abandonment. Although he faces health issues such as diabetes and hypertension, his daily routine includes reading, reflection, and spiritual accompaniment.
“How is it possible that a man as bad, old, and criminal as I was, who made so many mistakes and even took the lives of others, could be so loved by God? Why me? Who am I?” Víctor reflects in an interview with Peru Reports.
Born in Lima on October 5, 1952, his story is marked by a past of excess and violence. The scars on his skin bear witness to that time: bullet wounds from robberies and police chases, knife cuts from scrappy streetfights, and accidents that nearly cost him his life. Despite accumulating wealth through illicit activities, today he owns no material possessions and lives trusting in what he calls “Providence.”
Over the years, Víctor has found solace in spirituality. A devotee of the Lord of Miracles (a revered image of Christ in Peru, celebrated with massive processions in October), he has dedicated his time to prayer and reflection. “I feel that Jesus is here, right beside me, sitting with me. God is present, talking to us, speaking to me through my brothers,” he says.
For Víctor, his story is not just one of repentance but of a continuous search for meaning. “I have to accept God’s mercy, even if it’s hard for me… I’m stubborn, I argue with God like a son does with his father. But that’s what He likes: to see how, despite everything, I love Him more each day. He is my life,” he states.
Today, his testimony is a reminder that change is possible, even in the most difficult circumstances. Facing his present with gratitude and determination, Víctor moves forward, convinced that his story can inspire others seeking a second chance.
From a humble childhood to the first theft that marked his life
Víctor grew up in the Rímac district of Lima in a humble home with his grandmother after being abandoned by his mother, whom he never met. Her absence left a void in his life that still echoes within him. He lived in a small house with his uncles and grandfather in an environment of hardship. Additionally, his mother’s sister passed away in Barcelona, leaving behind three young children with whom he shared a bed.
During his childhood, he studied at María Jesús School, a Christian-oriented day school, and later at Filomeno School. He regularly attended San Lázaro Church, where he received breakfast and religious instruction. “Back then, everything revolved around the Lord of Miracles and Saint Rose of Lima. I would visit Saint Martin de Porres at his church in Caquetá, also to have breakfast. That was my world,” he recalls.
However, poverty and the influence of his surroundings shaped his fate. From a young age, he helped his grandmother by washing clothes for the army and began frequenting a neighborhood tavern where pickpockets gathered. “There were no drugs, but there was alcohol. On the corner of the house, there was a hotel where you could watch the prostitutes through the window. All the little kids would stand there at night to look. And all of that calls you in. I saw how they pulled out stolen wallets in the tavern and counted the money. They weren’t robbers; they were pickpockets,” he recounts.
His first theft happened spontaneously, influenced by what he saw every day. While riding the tram, he observed how pickpockets skillfully extracted money without being noticed and decided to imitate them. “When we left school to buy fruit, I would slip my hand into pockets and take money,” he remembers. On one occasion, he managed to get one hundred Peruvian soles, a sum that deeply impacted him. “I went crazy,” he confesses, though fear soon overwhelmed him.
Over time, his environment led him further into crime. He admired the well-dressed men in the tavern and his own uncles, who spent their wages on drinking and stylish clothing. “I saw the clothes they had, and I liked them. They were well-dressed, elegant. I wanted that,” Víctor explains.
At that point, he decided to leave school and started working as a shoeshiner in Lima’s Plaza de Armas. “Everything I earned, I gave to my grandmother, who saved it without spending it,” he says. There, he met other children who also shined shoes but were involved in criminal activities. One day, he watched some girls skillfully opening old handbags. That was when he decided to take the next step and immerse himself in the world that would ultimately shape his destiny.
Víctor’s path as an international pickpocket and bank robber
At 11 years old, Víctor stole from the wife of a diplomat in Plaza de Acho bullring. He was arrested and sent to a juvenile detention center for nearly three years. By then, his mindset was already shaped by crime. “The kids I hung out with weren’t just anyone. I started dressing well. But I also saw how some of them bought houses for their mothers,” he recalls.
This was the beginning of his travels. Along with his group, he moved through Cusco, Trujillo, and other cities in search of other people’s wallets. Eventually, the migration of pickpockets took him even further: Brazil, Chile, and finally Argentina in 1969, when he was 15 years old. “I had never seen so many dollars in my life,” he remembers. With that fortune, he bought a house for his mother in Lima.
Crime took him even farther. He traveled to Italy with just $100 and, within days, had made thousands. Later, he arrived in Mexico, where he joined the gang “Los Angelitos,” which specialized in bank robberies and stealing briefcases on motorcycles. During one heist, he was shot in the neck and declared dead at the morgue. “They later discovered I was still alive,” he recounts.
For years, he committed crimes in Mexico, Italy, Spain, Germany, Greece, and Malaysia, where he spent two years in prison. He traveled easily, bribing customs agents and airport officials. Despite everything, he never abandoned his faith. “I always carried an image of the Lord of Miracles and saint cards with me. I would go to Mass and then go out to steal,” he confesses.
The beginning of Víctor’s fall
Víctor’s story reached a turning point when he returned to Lima. By then, he was married to Julia, but their relationship began to deteriorate due to his indifference. While he focused on helping his neighbors and saw himself as “the father of the neighborhood,” his marriage took a backseat. Over time, his lack of attention to his wife severely strained their bond.
At the same time, Víctor became involved in a violent incident that would leave a lasting impact on his life. He recalls being caught in an armed confrontation in the district of Surquillo while being pursued by the police. “My car crashed into a ravine and crumpled like an accordion. Once again, I ended up in the morgue,” he says. “How could I have survived? God must have willed it that way.” As a result of the accident, he was paralyzed for a time.
The chases, robberies, and shootouts continued, but his situation worsened when Julia decided to leave him. “That’s when my downfall began,” he admits. After the breakup, he started drinking excessively.
In 1986, at 34 years old, he agreed to take part in the robbery of the pharmaceutical company Química Suiza, a heist that quickly became a media sensation. “The robbery went wrong, and I was sentenced to 25 years and a day in prison, though I actually spent 30 years behind bars,” he says. In prison, he developed an addiction to medications and abused various substances. “It was horrible—I was moved from one prison to another across Peru,” he recalls.
Those years in confinement were a dark period, marked by drugs, rage, and helplessness. “I found out my father had hanged himself. I felt terrible, overwhelmed by problems,” he says with sadness.
A cry for rescue
“I couldn’t take it anymore, I just couldn’t take it. I was saying to God, ‘Lord, get me out, buddy. And I’m never coming back here, Dad. But get me out of here, old man.’” That’s how Víctor began to cry out to God, seeking a way out of his life of confinement, addiction, and suffering.
After being transferred to a pavilion within the prison, he met two nuns who became a friendly helping hand. “I practically started living in the chapel. It was a new chapter for me. It was the eighties,” he recalls. Although this new path was not without relapses—during which he resumed drinking and using drugs—something inside him began to change.
After reviewing his case, the prison authorities determined that he had already served more time than was necessary. That’s how he left prison and his life began to change. “Inside, I no longer wanted to steal or do drugs. But need… You know, that drives you to do things. But it wasn’t like before. My mind had changed. I was already different, I was already closer to the Lord of Miracles,” he reflected.
After leaving prison, he decided to live on the street so that his children could have a better life, away from his addictions. “I wanted the woman taking care of them to be happy. She was already living with another partner, so I broke the family dependency,” he explains.
For years, Víctor survived on the streets and scavenged food from the trash. It was in that situation that he began to receive meals from the Nazarenas Carmelites, who run the Church of the Nazarenas. “Since so many people sat on the bench near the monastery, one day I decided to stay for the night. That became my routine. Later, I also joined an Alcoholics Anonymous group,” he relates.
To earn a living, he started selling candies on the buses. During that process, his mentor at the rehabilitation center, Tuto, asked him a question that marked a turning point: “Do you want to leave this behind, Víctor? Do you want to stop crying?” Then he advised him, “If you really want to move forward, you must first cleanse your inner self. Get rid of all that debris you carry inside: the hatred, the anger, the resentment, the manipulation, the lies… all those flaws. Because your problem isn’t out there—it’s inside you.”
As he received support and solidarity on the streets, Víctor began to change. “I thank the ground for letting me sleep. I thank the rain for washing me. Even on cold nights, I learned to see everything differently,” he says.
Over time, he never stopped attending the Church of the Nazarenas and became part of the community that every October pays homage to the Lord of Miracles. One morning, upon waking, he found a religious habit from the Brotherhood beside him, left by a Carmelite sister. From then on, he joined the tradition of carrying the image in the processions.
Later, one of the overseers of the Brotherhood invited him to serve in a social dining hall. “He took me to help people who were homeless, alcoholics, all of them. I started serving people like me. I learned to wash my brothers’ feet,” he concludes.
A new beginning at Casa de Todos and Sembrando Esperanza
Amid the COVID-19 pandemic, Víctor’s life took a new turn. The Plaza de Acho became a refuge for homeless people, giving rise to the Casa de Todos project. “The best years of my life were yet to come. I started helping with great enthusiasm to build that place, and I even became the public face of the project,” he recalls. More than just a roof over his head, he found a purpose there.
However, after the pandemic, he returned to the streets. It was then that he received a new opportunity at the Sembrando Esperanza home—a space dedicated to the care of the elderly and people with disabilities. There, he was welcomed with open arms and began to serve others with dedication.
Through Jenny, the home’s director, and other community members, Víctor started to see his experience from a new perspective. “In this house, you only need to look around to see stories of overcoming. I never imagined I would end up here. Many of the people who live in this place are living proof that it’s always possible to move forward,” he shares, his voice filled with emotion.
Víctor and his new perspective on life
In the home where he now resides, Víctor has found a space of peace and personal growth. Among the achievements he values most, he proudly mentions his children: “God worked a miracle with my children… One of my daughters is a police captain. The other is a doctor.”
Yet he still carries a deep longing—to reconnect with his mother. “I want to meet my mother. That is the only pain I carry now. That’s why this old man is so full of anger, because I feel like something is missing… Sometimes I think that if I continue living on the streets, perhaps fate will grant me the chance to see her when I die. That is my longing,” he confesses.
Víctor acknowledges that his life hasn’t been easy and that he has made mistakes, but he still wonders why he continues on. “I’m just like anyone else, with errors, flaws, and difficulties in my life. But I don’t know why I’m still alive, I don’t know why it’s me,” he reflects.
Today, he is grateful for every little detail of his day-to-day life. “My mission is simple: take care of my laundry, care for my brothers, my little clothes, treat them well. Sit at the table and joke with the others, with the old folks. Go to the hospital with them—that’s my life,” he states simply.
And as someone who has experienced both loss and the harshness of street life, but also hope, Víctor values the simplest things. “The greatest gift life sometimes gives me is simply having my 50 cents—the ones that allow me to buy the newspaper every day, even though sometimes I don’t have them. But there’s always someone who appears to help me.”
His story continues to resonate as a testimony of resilience, showing that even in the toughest moments, there is always an opportunity to rebuild.