are turning to black magic in an attempt to treat sick relatives

Jaime Otrupo chanted a solemn prayer then wrenched a chicken’s head from its body, allowing the blood to pump into a ceremonial clay pot as an offering to the gods.

At his feet were the sacrificed corpses of a dove and a chick, both of which were beheaded with a kitchen-knife while his wife and young daughter looked on.

This disturbing ritual, which was filmed by MailOnline in Mr Otrupo’s sitting-room in Caracas, Venezuela, may appear cruel to Western eyes. But to the father-of-five, the traditional healing ceremony was an act of desperation.

Mr Otrupo's seven-year-old daughter, Yansaire, was suffering from leukaemia and the city’s hospitals had run out of cancer drugs. The deliveryman was hoping that the gods could succeed where the Socialist state had failed.

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Mr Otrupo has carried out several sacrifice ceremonies over the years that his daughter has been sick

The bones of the chicken and two other birds lie on the ground next to a pot where the animals' blood has been drained into

Hospitals in Caracas have run out of cancer drugs, meaning her Mr Otrupo has turned to black magic

Jaime Otrupo, his wife Gracie and daughter Yansaire who suffers from leukaemia. He has turned to carrying out sacrifice ceremonies in an attempt to treat his daughter

The 43-year-old is one of thousands of Venezuelans turning to black magic in a frantic attempt to treat their ailing loved ones amid growing shortages in the collapsing Left-wing country.

Food queues, hyperinflation and crime have been part of daily life since a fall in global oil prices left its economy on its knees.

Hospital shelves are bare, leaving despairing Venezuelans to beg friends and relatives abroad for drugs. Some even barter for medicine on the internet.

When MailOnline visited the El Algodonal hospital, one of the largest in Caracas, there was no running water or toilet paper, let alone medication.

A five-month-old baby lay wheezing in a dirty cot as there were no drugs for her acute asthma. Her mother, too, was considering propitiating the gods.

The birds killed in the healing ceremony cost $6, more than a third of Mr Otrupo’s monthly salary

More and more people are turning to black magic in the failing country as the economy collapses and hospitals run out of supplies

Santería – a Caribbean belief system that combines Catholicism, native American shamanism and the traditions of African slaves – has been growing rapidly in Venezuela in recent years.

Yansaire, who has had cancer since she was four, has been in and out of hospital for as long as she can remember. Her father has sacrificed animals for her sake a number of times.

Mr Otrupo and Yansaire look at the pot where the blood of the birds has been drained into

‘We ask the god Ochún to accept the birds’ lives and spare our daughter,’ Mr Otrupo said, cradling the girl in his arms.

‘Tomorrow she needs another chemotherapy session. We managed to get the medicine for that, but that is our last dose. Only the gods can help us now.’

The birds killed in the healing ceremony cost $6, more than a third of Mr Otrupo’s monthly salary. The meat was not going to be eaten, as it was thought to have absorbed the negativity of the little girl’s illness.

‘It is worth the money if Yansaire can be cured,’ said his wife, Gracie Silva, 38. ‘It’s much cheaper than drugs.’

As times become harder in Venezuela, the sale of ritual objects, herbs and potions appears to be booming, with witches and priests reporting more demand than ever for their services.

In downtown Caracas, most shops have empty shelves and few customers. But at the Mundo Esotérico (Esoteric world) – which sold the ceramic pots, idols and fabrics required for Santería rituals – a queue of customers was stretching out the door.

Mother Dayana with her baby Anna, who is in the El Algodonal hospital in Caracas suffering from acute asthma

With no drugs to treat the infant and poor conditions in the hospital, Anna's family, pictured, are considering propitiating the gods

Five members of staff were on duty, and thick wads of the devalued cash were changing hands. Candles were particularly popular; a fresh delivery had come in and prices were rising daily as the currency continued to plunge.

‘The economy is bad but business is good, even though the government only allows us to keep 30 per cent of the profit,’ José Tabares, 45, the owner, told MailOnline.

‘Our products are more expensive every week, but people are still buying.

‘Since the economy got worse, there has been massive demand. Santería is an expensive religion, but people are looking for any way to survive.’

The shop also had a large apothecary section, where potions for wealth, love or good luck were mixed to order. These concoctions, comprised of vanilla, musk, tangerine and flakes of gold and silver, had to be blessed by priests before they became effective – at further cost.

At the Estoeric World shop in Caracas, on sale are potions and pots needed to carry out the rituals. Pictured is Rafael Figueredo, who has worked at the shop for 10 years

The shop also sells oncoctions, comprised of vanilla, musk, tangerine and flakes of gold and silver, had to be blessed by priests before they became effective. Pictured is

A huge queue of customers line up outside Esoteric World as they try to get their hands on the items needed to carry out rituals

A herbalist shop called Botanica El Inle de Ozain was also selling herbs and plants as an alternative to conventional medicine

Down the road, a herbalist shop called Botanica El Inle de Ozain, which had been in business for 35 years, was also plying a healthy trade.

Bundles of leaves and plants, kept in a row of refrigerators along the walls, were prescribed for a bewildering variety of ailments, from diabetes and Zika to dengue fever and cancer.

A course of treatment could cost up to $2 a week – an astronomical sum in a country where the average wage is $14 a month.

‘Sometimes the herbs work, sometimes they don’t,’ admitted Roselyn Lopez, 17, whose grandfather founded the shop.

‘In hospital, people are dying because there is no medicine. They will do anything to find health.’

In the Antímano slum in western Caracas, a shaman in her seventies called Isabel sells blessings and tarot card readings

Her specialism is worshiping gangster-gods, a practice that is common in Venezuela, to ask for spiritual protection

Needless to say, the priests of the slums are in high demand. In a stuffy basement, in the Antímano slum in western Caracas, a shaman in her seventies called Isabel and her assistant, Tibisay, 52, sold blessings, prophecies and invocations to the local community.

Their specialism is worshiping gangster-gods, a practice that is common in Venezuela. On a makeshift shrine were idols representing dead criminals, upon whom they called for spiritual protection.

Ismailito Gonzales, a gangster killed in the Sixties, is depicted wearing a red baseball cap and sunglasses, often astride a motorbike. After he died, he is said to have regretted his way of life and pledged to make amends by helping the living.

Other gangster deities – Luisito, Pincho, Rafaelito – have similar stories. Devotees propitiate them repeatedly each day by clicking their fingers three or four times and crossing themselves. And they frequently spend money on shamans.

‘The spirits have the power to heal people on the physical, spiritual and astral planes, but hospitals can only heal your physical body,’ said Isabel after demonstrating an invocation. ‘The spirits can protect you, too.’

Isabel's assistant Tibisay, who also sells blessings, prophecies and invocations to the local community

Tibisay pictured next to the altar where the gangster god idols lay that blessings are offered to

Among the deities they worship are Ismailito Gonzales, a gangster killed in the Sixties. . After he died, he is said to have regretted his way of life and pledged to make amends by helping the living

She then described how a boy was shot 10 times outside her house recently, but all the bullets missed, because she was worshipping a deity called Franciscito at the time.

‘In Venezuela, everyone is bewitched,’ she said. ‘When people are dying of hunger, they turn to the spirits.’ And for a fee, she acts as the conduit.

Back at Mr Otrupo’s house, the healing ritual concluded. He and his wife stood hugging their suffering daughter, whose lower face was covered with a medical mask.