My name is Lidsay. I’m 36 years old, and I’m from Cuba. I became a migrant because of the situation in my country. I don’t agree with the political system, and so I’ve been abused and mistreated, both physically and psychologically, in my own country.
My husband and I left Cuba on May 26, 2019. On June 2, we arrived in Chiapas, and stayed there for a few days waiting to be able to continue our path. When we decided to leave on June 13, we were detained by immigration officials, and we were held for 60 days in a detention center called “La Mosca” (“The Fly”). There, we were required to pass through the Mexican asylum process so that we wouldn’t be deported. The conditions there were awful. Those conditions weren’t meant for humans. Food was limited, and I slept on the floor for 60 days. I lost 20 pounds and lost all my hair living in these conditions. They had to take me to the doctor because of some lumps that developed on my arms.
After 60 days, they released us from detention, and we had to wait on our asylum process in Mexico, in Tuxtla. On August 24, 2019, my husband was a victim of organized crime. A gang was harassing my husband for a few days. One day, four or five people arrived armed with knives and stones and hit him in the knee and ankle. Because of these blows, he suffered in a bed while unable to walk.
They also threatened me and my cousin. I had just had surgery after what had happened to me in Cuba. They shoved us and shoved me right where I had had my surgery, and they hit me. We fled because they said they’d kill us if we didn’t leave. Even my cousin had to flee with us. When we arrived in Acayucan, we reported the crime to the prosecutor for cases against migrants, and they helped us there.
We were denied political asylum in Mexico, and so we decided to go to the border as well as we could, knowing the pros and the cons, and knowing that corruption awaited us wherever we went. This wasn’t our country; we didn’t know to whom we were speaking. When you’re terrified, everyone seems like a threat.
In November, we came here. When we arrived in Nogales, we began to get threatening phone calls. They said they’d kill us if we didn’t give them money, that they knew where we were. They were severe threats. We decided to go through a hole in the border fence. We passed through and kept walking. We walked for an hour before we were detained by Border Patrol. The agents who detained us spoke English and didn’t understand us. The only one who spoke Spanish told us they’d transport us and attend to us. They put us in a room for three days and didn’t tell us anything. I was bleeding from my nose, and they refused me medical attention. I was crying and begging that they listen to the reason that I’d come. They had thrown us there like we weren’t human beings, as if it weren’t anything important. They completely ignored me. All of a sudden, they told us they’d put us in the MPP process. They loaded us into a truck headed for Nogales, Sonora once again.
They say that MPP stands for Migrant Protection Protocols. To me, that doesn’t exist. It wasn’t anything of the sort, it wasn’t any kind of protection. As migrants, we have a right to be attended to and listened to. I was in dire need and had a good reason for having entered in the way I did. And they didn’t even listen to me. They denied me something as simple as listening. I thought that the United States was where people had freedom, a voice, and that they’d treat me that way. The MPP situation is very sad. Here, the rent is extremely expensive, and not everyone can pay the rent. Those who can, are just scraping by.
To Senator Harris, whom I see as a woman who is likely to support us: I consider her to be very capable of giving us her word, both hers and the president’s. All I ask her to do is follow through on her word.
There are thousands of people on this side of the border waiting for the opportunity to belong to that nation, to be free people and have the same opportunities that millions of others have. I am a worthy person, and I want for that opportunity to be given to me – to me and to the thousands who await that opportunity to add their grains of sand to that big country. We are the people who have built the country. We deserve this opportunity after such a long time.
My husband and I left Cuba on May 26, 2019. On June 2, we arrived in Chiapas, and stayed there for a few days waiting to be able to continue our path. When we decided to leave on June 13, we were detained by immigration officials, and we were held for 60 days in a detention center called “La Mosca” (“The Fly”). There, we were required to pass through the Mexican asylum process so that we wouldn’t be deported. The conditions there were awful. Those conditions weren’t meant for humans. Food was limited, and I slept on the floor for 60 days. I lost 20 pounds and lost all my hair living in these conditions. They had to take me to the doctor because of some lumps that developed on my arms.
After 60 days, they released us from detention, and we had to wait on our asylum process in Mexico, in Tuxtla. On August 24, 2019, my husband was a victim of organized crime. A gang was harassing my husband for a few days. One day, four or five people arrived armed with knives and stones and hit him in the knee and ankle. Because of these blows, he suffered in a bed while unable to walk.
They also threatened me and my cousin. I had just had surgery after what had happened to me in Cuba. They shoved us and shoved me right where I had had my surgery, and they hit me. We fled because they said they’d kill us if we didn’t leave. Even my cousin had to flee with us. When we arrived in Acayucan, we reported the crime to the prosecutor for cases against migrants, and they helped us there.
We were denied political asylum in Mexico, and so we decided to go to the border as well as we could, knowing the pros and the cons, and knowing that corruption awaited us wherever we went. This wasn’t our country; we didn’t know to whom we were speaking. When you’re terrified, everyone seems like a threat.
In November, we came here. When we arrived in Nogales, we began to get threatening phone calls. They said they’d kill us if we didn’t give them money, that they knew where we were. They were severe threats. We decided to go through a hole in the border fence. We passed through and kept walking. We walked for an hour before we were detained by Border Patrol. The agents who detained us spoke English and didn’t understand us. The only one who spoke Spanish told us they’d transport us and attend to us. They put us in a room for three days and didn’t tell us anything. I was bleeding from my nose, and they refused me medical attention. I was crying and begging that they listen to the reason that I’d come. They had thrown us there like we weren’t human beings, as if it weren’t anything important. They completely ignored me. All of a sudden, they told us they’d put us in the MPP process. They loaded us into a truck headed for Nogales, Sonora once again.
They say that MPP stands for Migrant Protection Protocols. To me, that doesn’t exist. It wasn’t anything of the sort, it wasn’t any kind of protection. As migrants, we have a right to be attended to and listened to. I was in dire need and had a good reason for having entered in the way I did. And they didn’t even listen to me. They denied me something as simple as listening. I thought that the United States was where people had freedom, a voice, and that they’d treat me that way. The MPP situation is very sad. Here, the rent is extremely expensive, and not everyone can pay the rent. Those who can, are just scraping by.
To Senator Harris, whom I see as a woman who is likely to support us: I consider her to be very capable of giving us her word, both hers and the president’s. All I ask her to do is follow through on her word.
There are thousands of people on this side of the border waiting for the opportunity to belong to that nation, to be free people and have the same opportunities that millions of others have. I am a worthy person, and I want for that opportunity to be given to me – to me and to the thousands who await that opportunity to add their grains of sand to that big country. We are the people who have built the country. We deserve this opportunity after such a long time.
