A shocking case of a young child's struggle has come to light, raising serious concerns about the treatment of families in immigration detention centers. An 18-month-old baby girl, Amalia, faced a life-threatening battle with respiratory failure, only to be returned to detention and denied the very medication that could have saved her life. This heartbreaking story highlights the controversial and often overlooked issues within our immigration system.
Amalia's journey began when her family was arrested in El Paso and transferred to the Dilley Immigration Processing Center in South Texas. This remote facility, described as prison-like, has long been a source of concern for advocates and pediatric experts. Despite warnings about its unsuitability for young children, Amalia's health rapidly deteriorated.
On January 18th, Amalia was rushed to a children's hospital in San Antonio, fighting for her life against pneumonia, COVID-19, RSV, and severe respiratory distress. Doctors worked tirelessly to stabilize her, but the battle was far from over.
"She was at death's door," Elora Mukherjee, a Columbia Law School professor and director of the Immigrants' Rights Clinic, said of Amalia's condition. Yet, despite the doctors' efforts, Amalia's return to Dilley on January 28th saw her denied access to the prescribed medication, forcing her parents to endure long, daily waits outside the facility, only to be turned away.
After days of intensive treatment, Amalia began to recover, but her release from the hospital marked the beginning of another battle. Medical experts warned that Amalia remained vulnerable and at high risk of reinfection, but immigration officers chose to return her to detention.
"It's outrageous," Mukherjee exclaimed, "that after being hospitalized for 10 days, ICE thought it was appropriate to send this baby back to Dilley, denying her the medicines she desperately needed."
The Department of Homeland Security has defended its use of family detention, stating that detainees are provided with basic necessities and that officials ensure the safety of children and adults. However, the conditions at Dilley paint a different picture.
Accounts from detained families, their lawyers, and court filings portray a facility where children suffer in confinement, receiving contaminated food, inadequate education, and struggling to access basic medical care. The prolonged detention takes a heavy toll on these children, leading to regression, weight loss, recurring illnesses, and nightmares.
Amalia's case is just one among many families held at Dilley who should never have been detained in the first place. Kheilin Valero Marcano and Stiven Arrieta Prieto fled Venezuela, facing persecution for their political opposition to President Nicolás Maduro. During their journey, Valero Marcano gave birth to Amalia in Mexico, and the family applied for asylum through the CBP One system.
The family was allowed to live in El Paso while their case progressed, regularly checking in with immigration officials and complying with all requirements. However, on December 11th, their lives changed forever. They were taken into custody during a check-in and transferred to Dilley, over 500 miles away from their community.
Inside Dilley, Amalia's health deteriorated rapidly. Her parents took her to the medical clinic multiple times, seeking help for her high fever, vomiting, diarrhea, and breathing difficulties. Each visit resulted in basic fever medication, and by mid-January, Amalia's oxygen levels had plummeted to life-threatening levels.
Amalia spent 10 days in the hospital, with Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers maintaining constant supervision. Her father remained at Dilley, unable to communicate with his wife or see his daughter as she fought for her life. Upon her release, doctors gave clear instructions for her care, but these were ignored by detention staff.
Amalia's nebulizer, albuterol, and nutritional supplements were confiscated, and her parents were forced to wait daily in the 'pill line' to obtain medicine. In the cold, Amalia shivered in her mother's arms, denied the breathing medication she needed.
Medical experts who reviewed Amalia's records warned of the extreme danger she faced, with one physician stating that she was at a "high risk for medical decompensation and death." Despite these warnings, and even after two measles cases were confirmed among people held at Dilley, the family's appeals for release fell on deaf ears.
It was only after Mukherjee filed an emergency challenge in federal court that the family was finally freed. However, the trauma of their experience is likely to leave a lasting impact.
"I imagine they will carry the trauma of this experience for the rest of their lives," Mukherjee said.
This case raises important questions about the treatment of vulnerable families in immigration detention. Are we, as a society, comfortable with the way these families are being cared for? Or is it time to reevaluate our approach and ensure that basic human rights and medical care are provided to those in our custody?
