Cuban Activist Aymara Nieto: One Year After Beginning a New Life in the Dominican Republic

The year since Aymara Nieto landed in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, after leaving Havana has been a time of regained freedom, but also of distance and many uncertainties. Much has happened around the world since then: geopolitics have been reshaped, changes have unfolded, and the life of the former prominent member of the Ladies in White, a peaceful opposition movement founded in 2003 by relatives of imprisoned dissidents, has also changed. Today, after an intense period of adapting to her new reality and what she describes as a profound spiritual awakening through faith, she speaks with us in this interview.

In August 2025, after more than six years of political imprisonment and harassment, you were forced into exile in the Dominican Republic. What has the process of rebuilding your life away from your homeland been like, and what have been the greatest challenges of adapting during this period?

“It has been a very difficult experience for me and my family, because I was forced to leave my country for defending human rights and the freedom of political prisoners in my homeland.

“When I arrived in the Dominican Republic, I was welcomed by fellow activists from the Cuban American Foundation. I have a very special relationship with the people who received me. From the moment they met me at the airport, they offered us their home without expecting anything in return. They supported me, and they are still my adoptive parents here. We maintain that bond every day, and I am their daughter. We celebrate my daughter’s birthday and our anniversaries together. It has truly been a blessing in my life to find people with such strong values who, after learning about the terrible things our family has endured, have offered us the support of those who are close to us.

“Although I still do not have legal documentation here and have been unable to take formal employment, I clean houses to make ends meet. We have to stretch a very limited income because I am still not legally permitted to work. I survive because I have strength and because I have found something greater: we have found God.

“We are Pentecostal Christians. My youngest daughter is now receiving religious instruction and will be baptized soon. I have already been baptized. Going to church, being in communion with the Lord, putting Him first in our lives, and getting to know Him have all been very positive experiences. Our wounds have begun to heal, and we have learned to forgive all the harm that was done to us.”

During your imprisonment, you endured punitive transfers hundreds of kilometers away from your family, punishment cells, and a lack of medical care. What is your current health status, and how is your physical and psychological recovery from those experiences progressing?

“I suffered greatly: retaliation, transfers, and punishment. I was held at the prison in Havana known as El Guatao, or the Western Women’s Prison, and was transferred to the provincial prison in Las Tunas, the Prisión Provincial Típico Nuevo, more than 700 kilometers away from my family.

“There, I was placed in solitary confinement cells despite having committed no crime. It was simply because my husband was making denunciations in the media that I was kept in punishment cells, denied access to the telephone, and subjected to verbal and physical humiliation. Medical care in prison was also inadequate: medications and basic healthcare were lacking.

“Because of my determination, my perseverance in the struggle, international support, and my membership in opposition organizations, the repression against me intensified to the highest level.

“It was very difficult. I spent two years with virtually no contact with anyone. Because we were going through the COVID-19 pandemic and lockdown, my family could not travel to Las Tunas, as transportation had been suspended. I spent two years and eight months there and received only one visit. It was hard. Knowing that there was a deadly epidemic, that many people were dying while I was confined to a cell, made the anguish even worse.

“I cried out to God for my loved ones, asking Him to protect them and to let all the world’s suffering fall upon me instead, so that they would be spared the disease and all the terrible things happening at that time. It was an extremely difficult experience for me and for us as a family.

“Today, faith has completely transformed my life and the lives of those around me. Thanks to that, I can say that I have recovered from the health problems I suffered in prison. For example, I had high blood pressure, but since I placed my life in the Lord’s hands, I have not experienced any further episodes or lasting effects. I forgave everything that was done to me so that God could take control of the abuses committed against me, political prisoners, and the Cuban people.

“My family has also found a spiritual path, which has allowed us to rebuild our lives. Although we are still separated, my eldest daughter lives in Cuba with my mother and my four granddaughters. Our faith has restored our lives. I would like to be a source of inspiration for political prisoners and their families. I urge them to seek God and put Him first as they face the obstacles imposed by the dictatorship.”

It is well known how painful it was for you to be separated from your three daughters, two of whom were minors when you were arrested, and how crucial your mother’s support was. How is your family doing, and how have you coped with the emotional consequences of imprisonment, prolonged separation, and exile?

“I did not want to leave Cuba. I said it in every interview: they would have to kill me on my own soil.

“However, when they gave me the ultimatum that I either had to leave the country or remain in prison, I had to think about my daughters, who were already teenagers. When I was arrested, the youngest were only five and nine years old. That made me stop and reflect. If it were not for my girls, I would still be in prison. I finally accepted because of them.

“When I arrived in exile, I had to get to know my daughters all over again. I knew nothing about their new interests or personalities, and they barely remembered what it was like to live with me or to have me care for them as their mother. We had to rebuild our family relationship from scratch.

“At first, I went through a crisis. When you go through all these things, the armor you wear to keep anyone from seeing you falter eventually breaks. I went through a very deep depression that lasted about two months. I had no motivation to shower, comb my hair, eat, or do anything. Prayer helped me get back on my feet because it was a truly terrible experience.

“But I am doing well now. I feel as though, and you may not believe it, brother, I never went through any of that. That is how I feel because God has taken away all the anguish, sadness, and tension I had to endure. When you are a political prisoner under a dictatorship, you also have to deal with common prisoners, guards, and State Security. You must remain constantly alert because they could even kill you.

“Today, we live in harmony and with a great deal of love. There are no arguments in my home; we talk everything through in the peace and joy of the Spirit. We have left the pain behind.

“My mother, however, is still suffering. She has not gone through this process of faith and continues to carry the burden of the seven years I spent in prison and the distance between us today. Another year has passed with us apart, and we can only communicate through video calls when the internet allows it. The constant power outages in Cuba make communication impossible.

“I also want to share that my eldest daughter is pregnant and is about to give birth. She is currently admitted to the National Hospital, and I… this will be the fourth grandchild I will not be able to help her with or be there for.”

Arbitrary detentions and the ongoing persecution of your husband, Ismael Boris Reñí, have been documented. What is his current situation, and what about your fellow activists who remain in Cuba?

“My husband, Ismael Boris Reñí, endured constant persecution on the island. Fortunately, he is now here with me in the Dominican Republic, where we can live without the regime’s daily harassment.

“But the same cannot be said for many of our fellow activists. People like Roberto Ferrer have been released from prison but remain on ‘conditional release,’ which is equivalent to being confined to their own homes under State Security surveillance.

“Other cases are even more serious, such as that of Yunaykis Linares, a political prisoner arrested in connection with the July 11 protests, whose conditional release, granted following the Vatican’s mediation, was revoked. She was sent back to prison to serve the remaining three years of her sentence. Many other July 11 protesters remain imprisoned. The repression never stops.”

Since 2013, you have been covered by precautionary measures issued by the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR) and have received support from Race and Equality. How effective were these mechanisms?

“I received essential support from many organizations. I have been part of the Ladies in White, UNPACU (Patriotic Union of Cuba), Cuba Decide, and the Forum for Rights and Freedoms. During my imprisonment, I received constant support from leaders such as Berta Soler, Claudio Fuentes, Rosa María Payá, and José Daniel Ferrer, as well as from international networks in Europe and the United States.

“The support provided by the IACHR and Race and Equality was decisive. The pressure exerted through the precautionary measures and the reports issued by these institutions was instrumental in making the regime choose to send me into exile rather than keep me in prison, given the visibility my case had gained.”

Your release from prison did not mean full freedom but rather a new sentence: forced exile. How do you assess the systematic use of expulsion from the country to dismantle opposition leadership?

“Forced exile remains the regime’s main tool for neutralizing opposition leadership. In my case, after serving a previous one-year sentence, I returned to the streets with the same commitment to activism. That is why, on this latest occasion, State Security officers explicitly told me that the streets of Cuba were off-limits to me and that the only way out of prison was to leave the country. Yes, it is a systematic mechanism for emptying the country of its domestic opposition.”

You have consistently reaffirmed your commitment to demanding the release of political prisoners. How do you maintain ties with human rights movements from abroad?

“I remain fully active in exile. I continue to work closely with the Ladies in White, UNPACU, and Cuba Decide. I actively participate in demonstrations and activities organized by the Cuban-Dominican Association and other exile groups to raise awareness of the Cuban cause. I constantly call for unity among all our fellow Cubans in exile so that we can demand the release of political prisoners and develop mechanisms to pressure the regime. I sign every petition I receive calling for change in Cuba and freedom for political prisoners. My signature will always be there.

“I feel the suffering of political prisoners deeply. If conditions in prisons were dire when I was incarcerated, they are even worse today because of the collapse of the national electricity system. The lack of power prevents the preservation of what little food is available and disrupts the pumping of drinking water, for example. Families often cannot visit because they have no food to bring or no transportation to make the journey. The crisis in prisons and in Cuban society as a whole is absolute.”

As you mentioned, Cuba’s current socioeconomic crisis and ongoing repression have further aggravated the situation. How do you assess the human rights situation in prisons and Cuban society at large?

“The situation in Cuba is unsustainable. Shortages of water, food, and electricity have reached extreme levels. This collapse has also led to an increase in social violence, theft, and desperation among the population.

“The deterioration of prisons mirrors the deterioration of the country. Most Cubans are surviving in frankly deplorable conditions, while a minority with access to remittances from abroad, some small businesses, or companies linked to the government leadership maintain a standard of living far removed from that of everyone else. The economic collapse is also triggering severe social consequences, including increases in homicides, femicides, and suicides. Without a drastic political change, the situation can only continue to worsen.”

Finally, what message would you send to the women human rights defenders who remain imprisoned, and what appeal would you make to the international community?

“From my own experience, I can tell them that even in the darkest moment, there is hope. I urge political prisoners and their families to maintain their faith and never stop speaking out, protesting, and demanding their release. The international community, the United Nations, and exile movements must also intensify pressure on the regime until all prisoners of conscience are free.

“To those who have supported us and to the organizations defending our cause, I once again express my sincere gratitude.

“Cubans on and off the island must remain united. You are not alone. From exile, we will continue to raise our voices for freedom. I continue to pray that God will bring change to my country, so that those of us who have suffered forced exile can return to Cuba, our home.

So be it. Thank you, Aymara.

“I’m in that kind of limbo that prison was”: Luis Manuel Otero Alcántara, Cuban artist in exile

Miami, October 7, 2026 – Luis Manuel Otero Alcántara, the Cuban artist who has been living in Miami, United States, since July 18, answers the questions in this interview clearly and forcefully. In the room where he arrived after serving five years in Guanajay maximum-security prison in western Cuba, and after becoming a beneficiary of the U.S. government’s humanitarian parole program, he speaks about the island, his family, the San Isidro Movement (MSI), migration, art, and the works through which he has denounced the dictatorship that has controlled Cuba for years.

Below is the interview conducted by the Institute on Race, Equality and Human Rights with the Cuban artist, edited for clarity.

Now that you are free, what do you think about most often?

I always think about Cuba, I always think about art, about how art will continue to function as a living tool that contributes to society, both Cuban society and society outside Cuba. I think about Cuba, about those who were left behind, about those people who right now cannot drink potable water because there are no conditions for it; there is no electricity, there is no life in Cuba. I think about that.

Do you think about it from a place of anxiety, or from a place of reflection that leads you to ask yourself, “What more can you do?”

I think it’s a bit of both. I think there is some anxiety because the place where I am right now is an unknown place, a place that presents enormous challenges. You are currently without a home. You have to pay rent, you have to have a place to exist. Then you have done a lot of work that precedes you, but undoubtedly the world that comes now is much bigger; you have to conquer a new space within the popular imagination outside Cuba. You also want your work, your art, to have those spaces, those niches of recognition in the West, of global recognition, because from there you can also continue working for Cuba. And then, what is left to do for Cuba? What are the new ideas that have to come into your mind so you can go out and work for Cuba? I suffer that reality every day, even from a distance, even from exile.

How long did it take you to make the decision to go into exile?

The decision to go into exile went through several stages. After a year and six months in prison, I decided to leave because I realized the impact we had made, how enormous it had become, and that the Cuban dictatorship was not going to allow Luis Manuel Otero Alcántara to walk freely in the streets. Then I kept spending time there, and I kept accepting it, and there came a moment when my departure was getting closer. I had the possibility of deciding: I’m not leaving Cuba, even though I had already served the five years. But then I reaffirmed my decision, especially when they took me to the house near the beach, the State Security house. When they took me to that house, I realized there was no possibility of walking the streets. In fact, the way State Security treated me at that point was basically: you are leaving because you are leaving. We are going to give up everything we can, but it is so that you leave; it is not so that you live in Cuba, because you are not going to walk around Cuba.

When you see that entire apparatus built around making sure you leave, it is because you are important. There was even a moment when they took me out, and it was as if I were the head, and they couldn’t mention my name. My name was like something forbidden to say. I thought, “Well, it seems that you do have an impact on society and, of course, the dictatorship is not going to allow its own death,” you know? That’s when I realized that it was going to be impossible to continue working from within Cuba. I could have come up with a radical plan to stay at home, but I would have stayed at home without internet, without the tools to continue contributing. That’s when I decided to go into exile.

What does it feel like to walk down the street without being watched?

I’m still traumatized by the surveillance. When I enter this space, when I’m coming in from the street and a car passes by, I feel as if that car is coming for me. The other day I was standing outside, there was a police car on the corner, and immediately my body went back to that place in Havana. I still feel watched. I feel that wherever I go, there is an eye belonging to State Security and the Cuban regime watching me.

Of all the works and performances you have created, which has been the most symbolic and powerful in portraying the Cuban regime?

I think my work as a whole is a living testimony of that relationship: the dictatorship trying to strip away the art that makes it uncomfortable, trying to strip away art that is committed to people. In my work, I have always been committed to making it reach people, to making the individual who walks the streets, the individual who stands in lines, the individual who suffers under the dictatorship in the most basic ways, think. And I don’t think there is one specific work, but rather the whole of it, my own performative body, my own cultural body, activist body, artistic body. That is the great work.

What has been the most rewarding thing about creating the San Isidro Movement?

I think the most rewarding thing about having generated or been part of the San Isidro Movement is, first of all, having demonstrated that art was a real tool for change. Not merely a political comment, not merely an artist’s expression, but demonstrating that a powerful tool such as art can be used to change things firsthand, not through third parties or fourth parties.

I think that was the most important thing for me. And, of course, seeing on the ground how a society changes from a state of terror, a state of fear, to becoming a civic society, to becoming a society capable of taking control of its immediate and long-term future. And it began with a cultural project, an artistic project, as the MSI was called.

For me, Cuba’s history is in San Isidro, just as it is in many other projects, such as the Varela Project and other movements such as the Ladies in White and UNPACU. I think San Isidro also forms part of that recent history and of the collective memory of those Cubans who sacrificed themselves so that Cuba could become a better place. And I would love for it to be recorded that way in history.

Now that you are in exile, how do you see Cuba? How has your perspective changed?

It’s difficult for me to answer that question because I don’t think I have landed yet. I’m in that kind of limbo that was prison, that kind of limbo that came afterward while I was in that house, that kind of limbo that comes from getting on a plane like that and landing somewhere with an enormous amount of information that your brain is processing.

What was the most difficult thing about being in prison?

Brother, the hardest thing about being in prison is prison itself. Prison is a horrible place. Prison is something that, if I could describe it to you in words, cannot be described with words. In fact, I brought a series of works. My paintings will help people understand. For example, there is a series I made that was like black holes, where you feel as if you are in a kind of limbo, like those nightmares where you fall into a void and never reach the bottom, and you are always in that state of anxiety.

I remember the last time I was at an amusement park, when they put me on one of those rides that is like a ship, and I was at the very end, and it went up, and then that sensation of going down, when you feel like you’re going to die. That adrenaline, which is toxic, is what you feel in prison every day. You feel as if you are in a void and never reach the end. Even after you leave, that void continues to remain inside you for a long time. Literally, what you feel in prison is that you are suffocating. That feeling of being unable to breathe, of not getting enough air.

If you could explain what is happening in Cuba to people who are not from the island, what would you tell them? Why can’t what is happening there be “romanticized”?

First of all, it cannot be romanticized. It cannot. It is impossible to romanticize it; it is even impossible to trivialize what people in Cuba are going through. It is impossible to have affection for a dictatorship. When someone comes to talk to me about Cuba, when they talk to me about utopia or about the blockade, the embargo, the Americans, I tell them that what exists in Cuba is a dictatorship.

There are more than a thousand political prisoners in Cuba. And the political prisoners there right now are not even activists or opposition members. They are children, young people, women who took to the streets demanding a new political system, a new economic system.

So, if someone romanticizes that, they are complicit with the dictatorship. They are complicit with the bad people who are running that country right now. We are talking about a time when, maybe 50 or 40 years ago, there was no internet, no one could see what was happening in Cuba, and you had to rely on the regime’s propaganda. But right now, July 11 is there, there are more than a thousand political prisoners, there are more than I don’t know how many thousands of reports. If you live in a bubble and maintain that romanticism, you are a bad person. You are a bad person because you are complicit with a dictatorship, and I want nothing to do with dictators, much less will I tolerate their accomplices justifying it through romanticism. They are not romantics; they are murderers.

***

From the Institute on Race, Equality and Human Rights, we echo the denunciations made by Luis Manuel Otero Alcántara. We also condemn the forced exile suffered by this Cuban artist and by other activists, independent journalists, and human rights defenders. We urge the authoritarian regime in Cuba to end repression, release all people deprived of their liberty for political reasons, and begin a democratic transition that protects the fundamental rights of Cuban people, both on and off the island.

In Cuba, Racism Persists Behind the Discourse of Equality

Washington, D.C., September 8, 2026 — August 31 marked the International Day for People of African Descent, a day to raise awareness about the fight against racism and reaffirm the need to move toward more equal societies. In Cuba, reports by civil society organizations and the observations of the UN Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination (CERD) warn of persistent structural inequalities affecting people of African descent.

For decades, the Cuban government’s official discourse has portrayed the 1959 Revolution as the moment when racial discrimination was left behind. However, more than six decades later, disparities persist in areas such as employment, housing, access to basic services, economic opportunities, and even the proportion of people who are incarcerated. At the Institute on Race, Equality and Human Rights (Race and Equality), we have documented how these inequalities are structural in nature and reproduce historical patterns of exclusion.

These disparities, raised during Cuba’s review by CERD in April of this year, were reflected in the Committee’s concluding observations, published in May.

Afro-descendant women and girls in Cuba, for example, “face greater obstacles in accessing the labor market, as well as opportunities for political participation and representation… and are disproportionately affected by adolescent pregnancies and maternal mortality. In addition, the prevalence of gender-based violence, including femicides, is a concern,” according to one section of the CERD report.

Inequality and Lack of Information

At Race and Equality, we have also questioned the methodologies used to identify the Afro-descendant population and highlighted the need for reliable information to make racial inequalities visible. In its recent review, CERD found the available statistics insufficient to assess the living conditions and enjoyment of rights of people of African descent. It therefore recommended reviewing statistical methodologies based on self-identification, conducting a new census, and publishing disaggregated data.

Inequality is also evident in the area of civil and political rights. According to the Human Rights Defense Network (RedDDHH), 3,511 repressive actions were recorded in 2025, affecting 3,310 people, of whom 1,842 were Afro-descendant, representing 55.6 percent. The organization also documented a significant presence of Afro-descendant people among victims of repressive actions inside prisons.

The protests of July 11, 2021, known as 11J, also highlighted these dynamics. The Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR) has noted that racial inequality was among the factors associated with the demonstrations and that the repression disproportionately affected people of African descent.

CERD, for its part, expressed concern over reports of excessive use of force, arbitrary detention, and racial profiling of people of African descent, particularly in the context of peaceful demonstrations. It also raised concerns about the harassment, threats, surveillance, restrictions on movement, and criminalization of activists, journalists, artists, and human rights defenders working to combat racial discrimination and promote the rights of people of African descent.

An Equality That Is Still Not Enough

CERD’s conclusions challenge the idea that racism is a problem that has been overcome in Cuba. The Committee recognized that people of African descent continue to face structural racism and discrimination linked to the historical legacy of slavery, which are reflected in poverty, vulnerability, marginalization, overrepresentation in the prison population, and disparities in access to employment, housing, and basic services.

The Committee also expressed concern about the lack of sufficient information on the implementation, results, and impact of the National Program against Racism and Racial Discrimination, adopted in 2019. It further highlighted the need to ensure the broad and inclusive participation of people of African descent and their organizations in policies aimed at combating discrimination.

As part of the International Day for People of African Descent and the Second International Decade for People of African Descent (2025–2034), Race and Equality stresses that combating racism requires more than recognizing equality before the law. As CERD has pointed out, Cuba must adopt concrete measures to reduce poverty, vulnerability, and marginalization among people of African descent, strengthen equality in the workplace, investigate allegations of racial profiling, and ensure a safe civic space for those defending their rights.

Luis Manuel Otero Alcántara: From Prison to Forced Exile

Washington, D.C., July 18, 2026. The International Institute on Race, Equality and Human Rights (Race and Equality) welcomes the release of Cuban artist and political prisoner Luis Manuel Otero Alcántara after he unjustly served a five-year prison sentence for peacefully exercising his fundamental rights. However, the Institute condemns the fact that his freedom was only made possible through his departure from Cuba under the humanitarian parole program. Otero Alcántara’s arrival in Miami, Florida, on Saturday, July 18, marks yet another episode in the Cuban regime’s systematic use of forced exile against those who exercise their right to freedom of expression and defend human rights. His departure from the island does not represent an act of full freedom, but rather the continuation of a repressive policy aimed at silencing critical voices through banishment.

For years, Otero Alcántara established himself as one of Cuba’s leading voices for independent art and human rights. He co-founded the San Isidro Movement, a collective of artists, intellectuals, and activists that promotes artistic freedom and fundamental freedoms on the island. Following the historic protests of July 11, 2021, he was arbitrarily detained. Even after completing his sentence in full, the Cuban authorities kept his whereabouts secret for several days, prolonging uncertainty about his situation before ultimately facilitating his departure from the country.

Just days ago, Otero Alcántara’s works were featured in the exhibition The Invisible Prison: Imprisoned Artists in Cuba, presented at the Art Museum of the Americas in Washington, D.C., in collaboration with Race and Equality and other partner organizations. The exhibition brought together works by artists imprisoned for political reasons to expose the impact of repression on freedom of artistic creation and expression in Cuba while reaffirming the role of art as a form of resistance against authoritarianism.

“We welcome Luis Manuel Otero Alcántara’s release after five years of unjust imprisonment. However, no one should be forced to leave their country in order to regain their freedom. The forced exile imposed by the Cuban regime demonstrates that banishment remains a tool of repression against those who peacefully exercise their fundamental rights. This case once again highlights the absence of fundamental freedoms and the closure of civic space in Cuba,” said Carlos Quesada, Executive Director of Race and Equality.

What happened to Otero Alcántara reflects a systematic pattern of repression documented by Cuban and international human rights organizations. The criminalization of dissent, arbitrary detention, harassment, surveillance, and forced exile are mechanisms used to restrict civic space and silence those who exercise and defend their fundamental rights.

Race and Equality welcomes Luis Manuel Otero Alcántara’s release while condemning forced exile as a repressive practice that is incompatible with international human rights obligations. We call on the Cuban authoritarian regime to immediately and unconditionally release all individuals arbitrarily detained for political reasons. We also urge the international community to denounce forced exile as a mechanism of political persecution and to maintain its attention on the profound human rights crisis in Cuba, demanding an end to the systematic violations committed against those who peacefully defend democracy, fundamental freedoms, and human dignity.

Five years after July 11 , we demand that fundamental rights be recognized in Cuba

Washington D. C., July 10, 2026 – This Saturday, July 11, marks the fifth anniversary of the historic peaceful protests of July 11, 2021, in Cuba, better known as 11J, a day when thousands of people took to streets in the country’s 15 provinces and the special municipality of Isla de la Juventud to demand freedom, better living conditions and respect for their fundamental rights. The protests erupted amid a deep economic, social, and health crisis, exacerbated by shortages of food, medicine, and basic services, as well as by ongoing restrictions on fundamental freedoms.

According to Another Year Without Justice (2025), a report published by Justicia 11J, 1,597 people were arbitrarily detained during the July 11 protests and in the days that followed. The state’s response was marked by arbitrary detentions, enforced disappearances, excessive use of force, internet shutdowns, surveillance, harassment, judicial proceedings without due process, and disproportionate sentences against protesters, journalists, artists, activists, and human rights defenders.

Five years after the protests, the human rights crisis in Cuba persists and has deepened. According to records from Justicia 11J, 823 people remain deprived of their liberty for political reasons or for participating in peaceful protests (as of July 3). Among them are artists Maykel Osorbo and Luis Manuel Otero Alcántara, whose whereabouts remain unknown. In Otero Alcántara’s case, Cuban authorities transferred him on July 7 to an undisclosed location, despite the fact that his sentence expired two days later. Although he was able to communicate with activist Anamely Ramos on July 9, the authorities continue to withhold information about his whereabouts and legal status. The lack of official information further heightens concerns for his safety, well-being, and respect for his fundamental rights.

At the same time, the exile and migration of Cubans have increased significantly in recent years as a result of the repression with which the State responded to the protests, the criminalization of those who participated in them, and the worsening economic, social, and political conditions on the Island. Many human rights defenders, journalists, and activists have been forced into exile due to the constant harassment, surveillance, and threats carried out by the Cuban authorities. Among them are Leticia Ramos, a member of the Ladies in White, whom the Cuban regime prevented from returning to the country following a trip abroad for medical treatment, effectively forcing her into exile; Anamely Ramos, whom the Cuban authorities likewise barred from re-entering the country while she was abroad, effectively imposing exile on her; and José Daniel Ferrer, leader of the Patriotic Union of Cuba (UNPACU), who has repeatedly denounced the persecution, harassment, and restrictions imposed on members of the opposition and independent civil society, and who was ultimately forced into exile.

The current situation in Cuba continues to be marked by the profound social, economic and political crisis. Constant power outages, which in various regions of the country last more than 20 hours a day, scarcity of food and medicine, the deterioration of public services, and rising poverty have sparked new outbursts of social discontent. Since July 11, thousands of peaceful protests, pot-and-pan demonstrations, and spontaneous rallies in various cities across the country, many of which have been suppressed by the authorities and have led to further arbitrary arrests, acts of intimidation, and arbitrary legal proceedings against protesters.

Surveillance, intimidation, and criminalization of critical voices and human rights defenders persist, while restrictions on the freedoms of expression, association, and peaceful assembly continue. This is compounded by a context of growing international pressure.

International organizations and members of Cuba’s independent civil society call on the authoritarian regime to fully recognize fundamental rights in Cuba, advance a genuine democratic transition, and initiate a transitional justice process led by an independent mechanism in coordination with independent civil society that guarantees the protection of the Cuban people. We also call for an end to repression, the release of all those arbitrarily deprived of their liberty, and the creation of conditions that allow those living in exile to return to the Island freely, as well as to enter and leave the country without fear of reprisals or arbitrary restrictions.

We call on the Cuban authorities to immediately disclose the whereabouts and health condition of Luis Manuel Otero Alcántara and Maykel Osorbo, guarantee respect for their fundamental rights, and proceed with their immediate and unconditional release. Five years after the 11J protests, we reaffirm our commitment to truth, memory, justice, and the defense of human rights in Cuba, as well as our solidarity with the victims of repression and their families.

The following individuals have signed this statement:

Asociación Raíces de Esperanza en España.
CELIDE
Center for a Free Cuba.
Ciudadanía y Libertad.
Civil Rights Defenders.
Consejería Jurídica e Instrucción Cívica.
Consejo para la Transición Democrática en Cuba.
Cubalex.
Federación Latinoamericana de Mujeres Rurales (FLAMUR).
Freedom House.
International Institute on Race, Equality and Human Rights
Justicia 11J de Iniciativa para la Investigación y la Incidencia.
Mesa de Diálogo de la Juventud Cubana.
Museo de la Disidencia en Cuba.
Museo V.
Observatorio de Género de Alas Tensas.
Organización Arte en Espiral.
PEN/ARC – Artists at Risk Connection.
Plataforma Femenina
Raíz Colectiva.
Robert & Ethel Kennedy Human Rights Center.

The Long Cuban Night, a documentary on repression in Cuba, premieres Saturday, April 11 at the Miami Film Festival

Washington, D.C., April 7, 2026 – The Long Cuban Night (2026, 100 min.), the first feature-length documentary by Cuban director and sound designer Sergio Fernández Borrás, will have its world premiere at the 43rd Miami Film Festival (MFF), taking place from April 9 to 19. The screening is scheduled for Saturday the 11th at 5:45 p.m. at Silverspot Cinema, Room 13, where it will also compete for the Documentary Achievement Award.

The film arrives at a pivotal moment for Cuba, marked by the intensification of state repression and the deterioration of living conditions on the island. In this context, Race and Equality supported part of the production of this documentary, reaffirming its commitment to the promotion of human rights and freedom of expression. Through a powerful and deeply immersive aesthetic approach, the film constructs a narrative that places surveillance, harassment, and the criminalization of dissent at its center.

Co-produced in Spain (Free Media), Cuba (Uranio Films), and Colombia (Casatarantula), and distributed by Habanero Films, the documentary is built entirely from archival material, including internet livestreams, cellphone recordings, and television broadcasts. Created over four years and conceived entirely in vertical format, the film embraces an aesthetic consistent with the devices used to capture these events, reinforcing its immediacy and testimonial character. This approach allows for the reconstruction, from within and without mediation, of some of the most significant episodes of recent repression in Cuba.

These include the harassment and imprisonment of rapper Denis Solís in 2020; the actions led by artist Luis Manuel Otero Alcántara and the San Isidro Movement demanding his release; as well as the police siege against this independent creative space. The documentary also captures the events that followed, including the November 27 protest, the January 27 demonstrations, and the social uprising of July 11, 2021, as well as the arrests of figures such as Otero Alcántara and musician Maykel Osorbo.

Rather than adopting an expository or didactic tone, Fernández Borrás creates a sensory experience that avoids traditional chronology or a historicist recounting of events. The film unfolds as a sequence of fragments that, taken together, reveal the intensity of state surveillance and the fragility of spaces of freedom on the island.

“As a living archive, the film portrays a community of artists, activists, and citizens who decided to say ‘enough’ in the face of abuse of power. More than documenting a conflict, The Long Cuban Night addresses one of the most important moments in Cuba’s recent history: the beginning of a civic awakening marked by dignity, collective strength, and an urgent need for freedom,” said Sergio.

One of the most notable aspects of The Long Cuban Night is its ability to capture the everyday dimension of repression. It is not only about major events, but also about the persistent sense of surveillance, the fear that permeates daily life, and the resistance that emerges within this context. The film thus positions itself at the intersection of political cinema and living archive, where images not only document, but also challenge.

The premiere of The Long Cuban Night at the Miami Film Festival not only represents a milestone for Latin American documentary filmmaking, but also an opportunity to amplify the voices of those who have been silenced on the island. In a context where censorship and persecution severely restrict the exercise of fundamental freedoms, cinema becomes a powerful tool for memory, denunciation, and justice.

Race and Equality celebrates the screening of this documentary, which portrays repression on the island, a situation that has worsened significantly in recent months due to power outages, shortages of food and medicine, and growing social unrest. From Race and Equality, we will continue to monitor the situation in Cuba and denounce the deep crisis affecting the country, reiterating our call on the international community to maintain attention on Cuba and demand full respect for human rights.

Activists from Cuba, Nicaragua, and Venezuela denounce transnational repression in exile before the IACHR

Guatemala City, March 16, 2025. Transnational repression carried out by the dictatorships of Cuba, Nicaragua, and Venezuela is a reality. This became evident during the regional hearing “Situation of Transnational Repression,” held last Thursday, March 12, at the Intercontinental Hotel in Guatemala City, within the framework of the 195th session of the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR).

The International Institute on Race, Equality and Human Rights (Race and Equality), Cubalex, the Association for Legal Defense, Registry and Memory for Nicaragua, the World Organisation Against Torture, and the Virtual Museum Against Gender-Based Violence in Cuba participated in this space for dialogue, accompanying three activists from these countries who have faced acts of transnational repression in exile: Cuban activist Kirenia Yalit Núñez, director of the Cuban Youth Dialogue Table; Nicaraguan activist Claudia Vargas, widow of activist Roberto Samcam and member of the Arias Foundation for Peace and Human Progress; and Venezuelan activist Luis Peche, director of the organization Sala 58.

During the hearing, they denounced murders, attempted homicides, persecution, and harassment in the countries where they have sought refuge after being forced into exile due to repression by the authoritarian regimes in their countries of origin.

Claudia Vargas warned that the Nicaraguan regime continues to persecute opposition figures even outside its territory. “The regime’s persecution does not end when we cross the border. On the contrary, it transforms, expands, and reaches us even where we seek refuge,” she said. She also denounced the arbitrary deprivation of nationality affecting more than 450 people, which has resulted in the annulment of documents, academic records, pensions, and property.

She also recalled that at least five murders of Nicaraguan opposition figures in exile have already been documented, including the killing of campesino leader Jaime Luis Ortega in Costa Rica in 2024 and that of her husband, Roberto Samcam, a former major in the Nicaraguan Army and political analyst who was murdered in San José in June 2025. “His assassination represented a message directed at the exile community: an attempt to silence us and a demonstration of power beyond borders,” she stated.

“In the face of this serious problem, it is urgent that states in the region, especially host countries, recognize the fight against this form of persecution as part of their international protection obligations,” Vargas added.

For his part, Luis Peche explained that he was forced to leave Venezuela in 2025 following the increase in political persecution after the electoral process. The activist reported that he was the victim of an assassination attempt in Bogotá in October last year, when armed men opened fire on him and on human rights defender Yendri Velásquez. Peche received six gunshot wounds and Velásquez eight. Both survived the attack and are currently out of danger. “This fear is not abstract; it is concrete and persistent. It is part of a regional pattern of transnational repression that seeks to silence those of us who denounce these abuses,” he said.

From Cuba, Kirenia Yalit Núñez denounced that the Cuban regime has developed mechanisms of extraterritorial persecution against activists and journalists in exile. She recounted that she has faced numerous incidents of harassment in different countries, including acts of intimidation, surveillance, and migration-related obstacles. “The Cuban regime projects its intimidation beyond its borders to silence those of us who continue to denounce human rights violations from exile,” she said.

During the hearing, Cuban lawyer Laritza Diversent, director of the organization Cubalex, also participated. She warned that transnational repression seeks to silence critical voices even outside their countries of origin. Diversent urged the IACHR to recognize and systematically monitor this phenomenon, strengthen protection mechanisms for exiled individuals—especially in host countries such as Costa Rica, Colombia, and the United States—and promote coordinated regional responses to the extraterritorial expansion of political persecution.

She also called on the Commission, as it has done in other countries in the region, to establish a specific mechanism to monitor the humanitarian crisis and serious human rights violations in Cuba, in order to document these patterns and strengthen international accountability mechanisms.

During the hearing, the Group of Human Rights Experts on Nicaragua (GHREN) and the Independent International Fact-Finding Mission on the Bolivarian Republic of Venezuela participated jointly for the first time. These bodies noted that transnational repression is a real phenomenon affecting opposition figures and human rights defenders from Nicaragua and Venezuela, and emphasized the importance of continuing to investigate and document these patterns of persecution beyond national borders.

Race and Equality will continue to monitor and denounce the human rights violations suffered by activists and defenders from Cuba, Nicaragua, and Venezuela. We reiterate the need for states in the region to strengthen protection measures for exiled individuals and to ensure effective investigations into acts of transnational persecution, as well as coordinated regional responses to this phenomenon.

The collective manifesto of six women activists from Latin America and the Caribbean

Washington, D.C., March 6, 2026—On February 19, six women activists from Brazil, Colombia, Cuba, Mexico, and the Dominican Republic gathered for a virtual meeting that we at Race and Equality called “When Women Create, Memory Endures.” For an hour and a half, they shared who they were, where they were fighting from, and the realities they were facing in their territories. From that exchange, a collective manifesto was born that takes on special meaning today in the context of March 8, International Women’s Day.

Participants in this space included Eva Rafaela Calça, from Rede Trans Assis in Sao Paulo, Brazil; Andrea Ceballos, from the Indigenous Organization of the Pasto Territory in Colombia; María Camila Zúñiga, from the Movement of United, Diverse, and Emancipated Women (Mude), also from Colombia; Lourdes Esquivel, member of the Damas de Blanco organization in Cuba; Daniela Islas, from the Afrocaracolas collective in Mexico; and Estefany Feliz Pérez, from the Reconoci.Do youth movement in the Dominican Republic. For many of them, it was the first time they had shared a common space among such diverse struggles, but all driven by the same urgency: dignity.

The exercise culminated in the writing of a manifesto that reflects their collective voice and their main demands:

We, the women of Latin America and the Caribbean, unite in a powerful cry to demand equality and justice. Love and strength are what sustain us in this daily struggle.

From yesterday and today, we recognize the strength and determination of our history. We are the driving force. We are treasures of the world.

We fight to feel safe and equal, to be recognized and treated with dignity, from an anti-racist and decolonial perspective.

Today and always, we demand respect and freedom in all spaces!”

This call does not come out of nowhere. Latin America and the Caribbean continue to be marked by structural violence against women. In the last five years, at least 19,254 femicides have been recorded in the region, according to ECLAC’s Gender Equality Observatory for Latin America and the Caribbean (OIG). In most cases, violent deaths are perpetrated by partners or ex-partners, demonstrating that gender-based violence continues to be present in everyday spaces.

Femicide Violence in the Region

Brazil tops the most alarming figures. In 2025, it recorded 1,470 femicides, the highest number in the last decade, an average of four women murdered per day, according to data from the Ministry of Justice. In this context, Eva Rafaela Calça insisted that violence is not limited to murder: it is also expressed in exclusion and overload. For her, there is an urgent need for “a public space that values childhood as a responsibility of society as a whole, and not just of the mother,” because often “the mother is overburdened,” as well as policies that expand job opportunities for trans women “beyond informality and prostitution.” Her reflection connects femicide violence with the lack of care policies and the structural marginalization of trans women.

In Colombia, where the Colombian Observatory on Femicide reported 973 cases in 2025, impunity remains an open wound. María Camila Zúñiga recalled that, in addition to demanding justice for the murders, it is essential that “the work that women do with children, from the territories, be recognized” and that their lives be dignified. “We know that when a woman is murdered, justice does not always come,” she added.

In Mexico, where the Executive Secretariat of the National Public Security System recorded 721 femicides in 2025, violence is intertwined with structural racism. Daniela Islas warned that for Afro-Mexican women, recognition is also urgent: “What we need most urgently is recognition of our rights, more public policies for Afro-Mexican women, where we are guaranteed medical care.” She also referred to what she most desires: “We imagine a world without racism, without discrimination, where our rights as Afro-Mexican women are recognized and protected.” Gender-based violence in her territory cannot be separated from racial discrimination.

In Cuba, independent organizations such as the Alas Tensas Gender Observatory (OGAT) and Yo Sí Te Creo en Cuba (YSTCC) recorded 48 femicides in 2025 and warn that these crimes are the result of prolonged violence. Lourdes Esquivel expressed it from the harshness of her reality: “In Cuba, all women’s rights are violated. They imprison our children, they kill them, they beat us. We go hungry. There are children who have nothing to eat.” Her testimony reminded us that violence also manifests itself in hunger, repression, and daily pain.

In the Dominican Republic, where 59 murders of women were recorded last year (according to the Vida Sin Violencia Foundation), these figures coexist with policies and practices that particularly affect migrant women and women of Haitian descent. Estefany Feliz Pérez reported that, without identity documents, “they do not receive health care, nor can they study,” and that there is “persecution against Haitian women and Dominican women of Haitian descent” that even involves arbitrary detentions and undue payments.

Globally, women have only 64% of the legal rights that men have, according to UN Women. At the current rate, closing the gaps could take centuries. Against this backdrop, the virtual meeting on February 19 was more than just a symbolic space: it was a commitment to regional coordination.

This manifesto is also proof that it is possible to build agreements amid diversity. Six women from different backgrounds, with their own stories and struggles, managed to come together without having met before, listen to each other attentively, and recognize each other in their differences. In this exercise in honest and respectful dialogue, they identified common needs and forged a collective voice. This virtual space not only allowed them to share complaints, but also to demonstrate that regional coordination is a powerful tool when it is based on listening, respect, and the awareness that no struggle is isolated.

At Race and Equality, we reaffirm our commitment to giving a voice to those who resist from the territories and to supporting their demands. Because when women create together, memory endures; and when memory endures, the future is also built.

Cuba’s independent civil society, ready for a democratic transition

For more than a decade, we have been fortunate to work with Cuba’s independent civil society. We have seen their commitment to human rights, their dedication to documenting the violations that happen in the country, and their courage in exposing them. We have witnessed—through urgent messages and calls that lead to reactions by our legal team—arbitrary detentions, summary trials, surveillance, harassment, raids, forced exile, and, more recently, blackouts and food and medicine shortages. We have also faced our own negative impacts from this work – personal and institutional attacks, as well as skepticism on the part of former allies who have questioned our human rights work in general because of our work exposing the Cuban reality.

As a capacity building organization, we have trained independent activists on and off the Island on civil society engagement with human rights protection mechanisms. Through systematic documentation of human rights violations – analyzed according to the international legal standards to which the Cuban State has adhered – we have supported them to denounce cases of torture, enforced disappearance, censorship, and discrimination before the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights and United Nations Treaty Bodies and Special Procedures. By advocating for Cuba’s compliance with its international human rights obligations, our partners have been laying the groundwork for democratic transition for years. Their work is not merely opposition; it is preparatory governance.

While Washington and Havana negotiate the future of the island nation, the work, dedication, and perseverance of independent activists, journalists, and artists on the Island and in exile to fight for human rights and promote democratic ideals should not go unrecognized. They are the ones who have been collecting and sharing the evidence of the Cuban regime’s atrocities and this documentation should serve as a key element of any future government transition. While the Cuban government has maintained a monolithic façade, a diverse and resilient independent civil society has been quietly building the architecture of a free society from the ground up. The future of Cuba cannot happen without them.

The international community has recognized that in any transitional justice process, five elements must be considered: truth, justice, memory, reparation, and guarantees of non-repetition. It is not possible to achieve any of these without records of what has occurred during the undemocratic era and Cuban human rights defenders have been preparing already, as independent journalists break the state monopoly on information (truth); independent lawyers file habeas petitions before Cuban courts and cases before the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (justice); activists document patterns of abuses committed by State actors (memory); community groups provide aid where the State fails (reparation); and organizations like ours provide the tools to foster civic dialogue and democratic norms (non-repetition).

The most profound preparation lies in the commitment to the historical record. By creating databases of human rights violations and preserving the testimony of victims, independent groups are preventing the “erasure” that often follows authoritarian regimes. They understand that you cannot have justice without a record of the crime, and you cannot guarantee non-repetition if the history of the past is allowed to vanish into state archives. This is not just protest; it is the fundamental administrative labor required to restore the rule of law.

The international community must stop viewing Cuba as a passive recipient of history. The groundwork for a democratic transition—the human capital, the legal theories, and the civic courage—is already in place. The transition will not be a gift from the top down; it will be the formal recognition of a reality that independent civil society has been living for decades. Cubans are not waiting for democracy to be handed to them; they have been building it, brick by brick, in the face of immense adversity. It is time the world starts paying attention to the foundation they have laid.

Statement written by:

Carlos Quesada, Executive Director

Christina M. Fetterhoff, Director of Programs

Learn more about our work in Cuba over more than a decade here.

Cuba’s Authoritarian Regime Forces Cuban Activist Leticia Ramos, Member of the Ladies in White, into Exile

Washington, D.C., February 10, 2025 — On Monday, February 9, Cuba’s authoritarian regime barred Cuban activist Leticia Ramos, a member of the Ladies in White movement, from entering the country, forcing her into exile. Ramos traveled from the United States to Cuba, but once there, authorities denied her the right to reunite with her family, withheld her luggage, and ordered her to leave the country, forcing her to return to Miami.

Last January, during an interview with Race and Equality, Ramos expressed her fear that the Cuban regime would deny her return to the Island after traveling to the United States to receive medical treatment, a systematic practice used to silence, punish, and force activists into exile. That fear became a reality yesterday. From the Institute, we are accompanying her and have assumed her legal representation in this process, just as we have provided ongoing support to the members of the Ladies in White before the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR), which since October 2013 has granted precautionary measures “to preserve the life and personal integrity” of the women who make up the collective.

Between Resistance and Repression

Leticia Ramos has been a member of the Ladies in White since 2004, when she joined as a supporting member, accompanying women whose relatives were imprisoned during the Black Spring of 2003. Since then, she has consistently taken part in peaceful actions—such as attending Mass dressed in white and carrying flowers—to demand the release of individuals imprisoned for political reasons in Cuba.

Following the death under “suspicious circumstances” of Laura Pollán, founder of the movement, in 2011, Leticia was elected coordinator of the Ladies in White group in the province of Matanzas. From that point on, state harassment intensified, including beatings, threats, constant surveillance, arbitrary detentions, and restrictions on her right to freedom of movement. For nearly nine years, she was subjected to travel restrictions and barred from leaving the country.

Reprisals also extended to her family. Ramos is the mother of two children: one who resides in the United States, and another, Randy Montes de Oca Ramos, who lives in Cuba and has been subjected to persecution, detentions, and criminal proceedings based on false charges, as a means of pressuring his mother to abandon her activism. In 2018, Randy served a six-month sentence of house arrest following public protests carried out by Leticia.

Between 2013 and 2018, Ramos was detained on numerous occasions, at times being deprived of her liberty up to four times in a single week. She attempted to document these acts of repression, but the information was lost following raids on her home in 2016, 2018, and 2019, during which state agents confiscated work materials, electronic devices, and items linked to her activism.

During the protests of July 11, 2021, Leticia decided to demonstrate in Cárdenas despite her family facing a severe case of COVID-19. In that context, she recalled that it was possible to perceive “the regime’s fear in the face of an unarmed people, but one determined to achieve its freedom.”

The forced exile of Leticia Ramos is part of a broader pattern of repressive practices used by the Cuban regime to punish human rights defenders through forced exile, family separation, and constant intimidation.

At Race and Equality, we recognize the trajectory, courage, and resilience of Leticia Ramos, and we reiterate our commitment to accompany her and to denounce this serious violation of her human rights, as well as the broader strategy of silencing activists in Cuba.

Cuban Activist Aymara Nieto: One Year After Beginning a New Life in the Dominican Republic

Cuban Activist Aymara Nieto: One Year After Beginning a New Life in the Dominican Republic

“I’m in that kind of limbo that prison was”: Luis Manuel Otero Alcántara, Cuban artist in exile

In Cuba, Racism Persists Behind the Discourse of Equality

Inequality and Lack of Information

An Equality That Is Still Not Enough

Luis Manuel Otero Alcántara: From Prison to Forced Exile

Five years after July 11 , we demand that fundamental rights be recognized in Cuba

The Long Cuban Night, a documentary on repression in Cuba, premieres Saturday, April 11 at the Miami Film Festival

Activists from Cuba, Nicaragua, and Venezuela denounce transnational repression in exile before the IACHR

The collective manifesto of six women activists from Latin America and the Caribbean

Cuba’s independent civil society, ready for a democratic transition

Cuba’s Authoritarian Regime Forces Cuban Activist Leticia Ramos, Member of the Ladies in White, into Exile

Between Resistance and Repression

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