“My son was forced to leave the country because of my activism”: The story of  Leonor Reyno Borges, a Cuban activist, victim of the Cuban state.

 “My son was forced to leave the country because of my activism”: The story of  Leonor Reyno Borges, a Cuban activist, victim of the Cuban state.

As a member of the independent civil society group Laura Pollán: Su Legado (Legacy of Laura Pollán), 55-year-old Leonor Reyno Borges had suffered years of abuse, harassment, and violence from Cuban authorities. But nothing she suffered as an activist could compare to having to say good-bye to her son. As a result of Cuba’s socioeconomic struggles and climate of repression, Leonor says, “hundreds of thousands of Cuban mothers live with the pain of separating from their children and not knowing when they will be able to hold them again, because so many have had to emigrate and flee to different parts of the world.”

Leonor’s son, today 34 years old, had been targeted by police as a result of his mother’s activism. Police officers would come to his workplace, question him about his mother’s “counterrevolutionary” activities, and detain him arbitrarily. The pressure against him worsened until he decided to emigrate, leaving Leonor to reflect on how the Cuban State’s actions resulted in the separation of her family and many others.

19 years of activism

 When Leonor looks back on the beginnings of her activism, she remembers the events of the Balsero (“Rafter”) Exodus of 1994, when many Cubans left the island on small boats and homemade rafts. She was working at the Hotel Nacional when she learned of the infamous sinking of the tugboat 13 de Marzo, in which 37 Cubans attempting to leave the island died. Eyewitnesses reported that Cuban ships may have been responsible for the sinking and for refusing to rescue some of the victims.

Leonor discussed the tragedy with a fellow worker and union member at the hotel, who defended the State’s actions. Leonor replied, “if you consider yourself a revolutionary and can say such things, I don’t want to be a revolutionary, because that would make me a killer.” Not long after, Leonor was fired from the hotel without explanation.

In 2000, Leonor began to join various opposition groups and human rights organizations. In 2007, she joined the Damas de Blanco, led at the time by Laura Pollán. She protested outside churches demanding the release of political prisoners, organized supply drives for prisoners’ families, and educated her community about the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and the Universal Human Rights System.

Leonor also became an active member of the February 24th movement and the Nationalist Women of Cuba, both under the leadership of the Cuban Nationalist Party. As part of these groups, she participated in countless protests in order to, in her own words, “give the people a message of freedom, demand free elections, call for recognition of human rights and denounce unconstitutional abuses.”

Detention and conviction

 With these protests came countless death threats, detentions, and nights in prison. “I was spending more time in cells than in my house,” Leonor remembers.

Most of the time, she was held for 12 to 72 hours before being released. That pattern ended on December 5, 2017, when Leonor and Rosario Morales organized a protest to speak out against security officials who were extorting street vendors, threatening to falsify charges that the vendors were selling without licenses. The two women led chants of “Down with corruption, up with human rights” and “Free the political prisoners.” Officers violently forced them into police cars and detained them.

The two activists were first sent to El Vivac Detainee Processing Center. After going on hunger strike for 12 days, they were let go without medical care; only the help of kind strangers allowed them to return home late that night.

Leonor was not called before a judge until 15 months later, on October 23, 2019, when she was summoned to the Havana Eastern Tribunal. She was tried quickly and convicted of “illicit economic activities,” “contempt” and “disobedience.” The charges carried a sentence of three years in prison; Leonor’s prison time was substituted for Correctional Labor. “I wasn’t allowed to present witnesses, I had to defend myself the best I could, three police officers all told lies against me, they were like robots all saying the exact same things,” Leonor remembers.

Leonor requested an appeal trial, as was her right under Cuban law. However, the Tribunal refused to allow her a fair hearing. Correctional authorities assigned Leonor, a licensed accountant, to work cleaning floors. Leonor had already been unable to find a job in accounting since she became a noted activist, as employers are afraid that they will face reprisals from State Security if they hire her.

Leonor told Race & Equality, “They warned me that if I didn’t carry out the work that they gave me, I would be sent to prison.”

Today

Today, Leonor spends her days at home due to the COVID-19 pandemic. She had received a notice requiring her to begin her Correctional Labor at the end of February, but her sentence was postponed by the quarantine measures that were announced a few days later.

“If we stop our activism and lower our profile, State Security is going to roll over us like a steamroller. We will never stop, the pandemic has just put us on hold,” Leonor says. “I decided to defend my community and although it has cost me years of my life, and even if it costs me my life, I will continue raising my voice for human rights in Cuba.”

Cuban Political Prisoner Silverio Portal Contreras Facing Extreme Health Risks

Washington, D.C. May 18, 2020. The International Institute on Race, Equality and Human Rights demands the Cuban government produce information on the situation of Silverio Portal Contreras, a political prisoner in the 1580 Prison in San Miguel de Padron, Havana. Lucinda Gonzalez Gomez, Mr. Portal Contreras’ spouse, has not heard from Mr. Portal Contreras since April 23 and fears for his life. Mr. Portal Contreras is an independent activist who has supported various movements in Cuba, including the Ladies in White and the Opposition Movement for a New Republic (MONR).

Mr. Portal Contreras has been deprived of his liberty since July 2018, serving a four-year prison sentence for public disorder and contempt. He was arrested after participating in a protest against the Cuban government’s failure to address the collapsing of buildings in disrepair, where he shouted, “down with Fidel Castro, down with Raúl,” contributing to the “contempt” charge, which criminalizes insults of public officials. Mr. Portal Contreras has been declared a prisoner of conscience by Amnesty International.

While in prison, Mr. Portal Contreras’ health has suffered greatly. He is 56 years old. Early in his prison sentence, he collapsed from a seizure after not receiving medical attention despite asking for it for four hours. It was later discovered that he had a blood clot. Since then, he has had many ischemic strokes and transient ischemic attacks (TIA), resulting in partial paralysis of the left side of his body.

Mr. Portal Contreras requested medical parole, which is permitted under the Cuban Penal Code under certain circumstances. Despite recognizing that Mr. Portal Contreras suffers from a number of serious health conditions, including ischemic cerebrovascular disease, the Provincial Tribunal of Havana found that his “current state of health is compatible with the penitentiary regime,” noting that he requires “specialized follow-up to maintain his illnesses.” Ms. Gonzalez Gomez has also filed an appeal of Mr. Portal Contreras’ conviction with the Supreme Tribunal but has yet to receive a response. Requests to transfer him to a labor camp and to release him on conditional liberty have also been denied, according to Ms. Gonzalez Gomez.

On April 23, 2020, Mr. Portal Contreras suffered another TIA. Ms. Gonzalez Gomez was able to speak on the telephone with him that day and noted that he had extreme difficulty speaking. She believes that he needs urgent medical attention, however, she has not been able to talk to him since that day and fears for his life. She received a telephone call from another prisoner on May 12, 2020, who informed her that Mr. Portal Contreras was alive, but has no further information about his condition. Considering his delicate state of health, he faces extreme risk if he were to contract COVID-19 while in prison.

On May 13, 2020, a State Security Official came to Ms. Gonzalez Gomez’ home to pick up food and medicine that she normally would deliver herself to Mr. Portal Contreras, but cannot do so now because of the COVID-19 pandemic. The official told her Mr. Portal Contreras would call her the following day. However, the expected telephone call never came, causing Ms. Gonzalez Gomez to fear that he has suffered another health crisis or is being denied access to telephone calls.

According to the United Nations Standard Minimum Rules for the Treatment of Prisoners (Nelson Mandela Rules), “the provision of health care for prisoners is a State responsibility. Prisoners should enjoy the same standards of health care that are available in the community and should have access to necessary health-care services free of charge without discrimination on the grounds of their legal status. Furthermore, “prisoners shall be allowed…to communicate with their family and friends at regular intervals.”

Race and Equality is extremely concerned for the health and well-being of Silverio Portal Contreras and calls on the Cuban State to release information about his current state, as well as provide him with medical care and allow him to resume communication with his spouse as required by the Nelson Mandela Rules. Mr. Portal Contreras is a political prisoner who is being deprived of liberty in violation of Cuba’s international human rights obligations. Race and Equality asks the international community to monitor the situation of Mr. Portal Contreras and to urge respect and protection for the human rights of all political prisoners.

No more silence: Reclaiming our voice on the International Day against Homophobia, Transphobia and Biphobia

Washington D.C., May 17. This May 17 marks 30 years since the World Health Organization (WHO) declassified homosexuality as a mental disorder, a global milestone that accelerated progress in the recognition of the human rights of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and intersex people (LGBTI). On this date, we commemorate the International Day Against Homophobia, Transphobia and Biphobia, a day to draw attention to the violence and discrimination that LGBTI people still suffer in our societies.

This year the promoted theme is “breaking the silence,” inviting people from the LGBTI community to no longer be afraid to express their sexual orientation or gender identity to their family or to others in their social circles. The commemoration this year is also framed within a global health crisis generated by COVID-19, which has intensified structural discrimination and evidenced the prejudices that persist in our society.

Historically, the LGBTI population has been stigmatized by a heteronormative society that has not allowed their participation in public spaces. The commemoration of this day is vital to bring to light all the acts of discrimination that endure in our societies and to denounce violence against people with diverse sexual orientations and gender identities.

#image_title

“To break the silence is to give a voice to those who have had theirs silenced by stigma, discrimination, social exclusion, and the constant violations of rights that remain in impunity because of States’ lack of political will. To break the silence is to shout with evidence a truth that our States, in most cases, do not want to show or do not take into account. Breaking the silence is saying we are, we exist, and we have rights.”

The fight for equality and justice is a daily job for many people.  It is not just about commemorating this day, but rather it is a fight that persists throughout every day of the year.

#image_title

Santiago Balvín Gutiérrez, explains to us the importance of being able to raise his voice as a trans person: “Breaking the silence has enabled my body to speak, my insides to speak, and my experiences speak. They do not remain silent because my life, and the lives of my trans sisters and brothers, do not deserve to be silence because they are different. Breaking the silence means to me that every feeling of oppression is also broken and seeks freedom for everyone, the same freedom that I began to feel when I chose to be myself.”

In recent weeks, we have witnessed latent and structural discrimination in the implementation of public policies by States and their institutions in response to COVID-19 that have exacerbated inequalities. The absence of public policies with a gender focus and the lack of training and awareness of public authorities has reproduced patterns of violence and acts of discrimination against LGBTI people. In many cases, the social distancing policies adopted by States did not consider the poverty, marginalization, and violence that people with diverse sexual orientations and gender identity face on a daily basis. By failing to do so, they exposed this group to harm.

The enactment of “pico y género” in different countries caused serious human rights violations, especially for the trans population. Their vulnerability is on the rise, as they face not only abuse of power by law enforcement, but also unemployment and domestic violence. Many have had to post pone name change trials, postponing a necessary step to protecting their gender identity, and others lack access to medical centers to receive hormone treatment or other medical necessities due to the pandemic.

#image_title

Today more than ever, it is necessary to take differentiated and specific actions for the LGBTI population, with forceful strategies to stop cases of abuse and systematic human rights violations of all diverse people. Franklin Quiñones, from the Fundación Arcoíris de Tumaco, believes that breaking the silence implies “making visible and / or denouncing any act of discrimination and / or violence against people with diverse sexual orientations such as the LGBTI population,” which can be achieved “by supporting us in the use of all existing legal human rights protection and communication tools.”

#image_title

Likewise, Sandra Arizabaleta, from the organization Somos Identidad in Cali in Colombia, explains that: “it is urgent to break the silence so that we use all community and legal mechanisms in order to enable the free development of the lives of LGBTI people. You can (and should) love beyond a role assignment and genitality.”

The violation of the fundamental rights of LGBTI people is heightened when the effects are combined with other scenarios and realities of the same or worse condition.

The violation of the fundamental rights of LGBTI people is heightened when the effects are combined with other scenarios and realities of the same or worse condition.

LGBTI people who are also members of other marginalized populations experience a different form of discrimination and rights violations. Examples of this are people of African descent with diverse gender identities and expressions who live with extreme violence, without support from the State, in poverty, and without access to basic health services, education, and employment. “Regions such as the Colombian Pacific, where a greater number of Afro-descendants live, are far from being protected with measures that use an intersectional approach,” adds Sandra of Somos Identidad.

The health crisis caused by COVID-19 has shown that despite advances in human rights for the LGBTI population, there are still great gaps and challenges that can only be overcome with the political action of States to guarantee human rights with a differential focus. “In times of crisis, it becomes clear who are leaders and who are not, and bad leadership will tend to exacerbate difficulties for the most vulnerable populations,” says Carlos Quesada, Executive Director of Race and Equality.

“For thousands of people around the world, breaking the silence often means remaining silent. Shouts occur when small gestures can go unnoticed, simple looks demand light or even a weak voice hesitates to echo in certain spaces. To be heard, sometimes we need to be vigilant because there is no point in breaking the silence if there is no one to listen to us, if there are no spaces with sharp ears to capture sounds, but rather gestures, looks. The power to break the silence is only effective when there is the power to listen. Otherwise, we will spend a lifetime wanting to have ‘meaning’,” explains Mariah Rafaela, Research Coordinator at the Conexão G Group of LGBT Citizenship in Favelas in Brazil.

Race and Equality, along with the LGBTI civil society organizations with which we work, urges Latin American States to:

– Take measures to prevent violence, with a differentiated perspective that considers the historical discrimination suffered by Afro-LGBI and trans people.

– Open a dialogue for monitoring the context of violence based on sexual orientation and gender identity together with civil society.

– Provide trainings to State officials on these issues.

– Include LGBTI people in emergency health planning. LGBTI representatives and voices need to be included, as well as sex workers, in all social protection plans, especially in access to emergency income.

Finally, it is an obligation of States to join us in breaking the silence against discrimination, violence, and indifference through affirmative actions that guarantee the recognition of the rights of LGBTI people.

#CubanasLibresYA: the story of the activist Rosario Morales, a victim of State repression in Cuba

Rosario was 43 years old when she first heard of the Damas de Blanco. At the time, she worked for the state-run Correos de Cuba (Cuban Mail Service) as one of the “citizens on foot” delivering letters and newspapers. In 2006, Rosario heard a radio interview with the Damas and immediately wanted to know more about the women’s organization and their demands.

“I first got involved in Santa Rita, at my church. After we left Mass, we would march all the way up 5th Avenue. I was active for six months before State Security began to threaten me and repress me and harass me,” she remembers.

State Security soon began to pressure Rosario’s friends and family as well; and this pressure only increased as the years went by. In 2011, her son was unjustly arrested and imprisoned.

Reinier Biscet Morales, Rosario’s only child, was 27 years old at the time. When he was arrested, the authorities made clear that they aimed to pressure Rosario into abandoning her activism. “Until you convince your mother to get out of all that, we’re going to prosecute you,” Rosario says the police told Reinier.

In detention, “they tortured him, they beat him,” says Rosario. She recalls the day when she tried to visit Reinier and was turned away because he had been sent to solitary confinement. “I began to cry and asked why, and they told me that he had put on a protest and called out unacceptable slogans.”

Reinier was imprisoned for 15 months, during which time Rosario worked ceaselessly for his freedom. She protested in the street holding up his photo, went out to protest wearing a prisoner’s uniform, gave interviews about the case, and asked for additional support from the other Damas.

Not long after her son was released, Rosario was fired from Correos de Cuba after eight years of service for ‘holding ideas against the Revolutionary process.’ She remembers, “not only couldn’t I get a job after that, but I was also being persecuted for being a Dama de Blanco, for defending human rights, for demanding democracy, for wanting us all to be equals.”

In order to make an income, Rosario set up a stall to sell home goods on the street in 2012. As an act of protest, she chose not to go through the process of acquiring a business license. As the years went by, she made her living there, with some ups and downs but always continuing to participate in the Damas’ activism.

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

Arrest

After five years, Rosario’s life was turned upside-down again. She and another Dama held a protest in Havana’s Villa Panamericana neighborhood, speaking out against State Security agents who harassed and demanded bribes from street vendors. They cried out, “Up with human rights!,” “Down with corruption!,” and “Freedom for political prisoners!” In response, they were violently forced into a police car and detained.

Rosario spent 12 days in El Vivac Detainee Processing Center, during which time she went on hunger strike, even going without liquids for the first few days. She eventually lost consciousness and had to be brought to the infirmary. She was released after this incident, but officials told her that she would face trial soon.

Rosario reports that she was never informed of the charges against her, that she could not give a statement in her own defense, and that the process against her was completely arbitrary. A year after her arrest, she was called before a judge. “The trial was clearly designed to be rigged against opositores (those who oppose the Cuban government),” remembers the activist, who was not allowed to present any witness at the trial, either.

On March 21, 2019, the court handed down its decision. Rosario had been convicted of “speculation and hoarding,” “contempt,” and “disobedience” and given a three-year sentence. Instead of prison time or house arrest, she was told she would perform “Correctional Labor.”

A month after the sentencing, Rosario was called back to court, where a judge gave her a work assignment. “Blacks were born to sweep the street, so we’re going to have you sweeping the street,” the judge told her. Despite this racist affront, Rosario accepted the assignment, telling the courtroom that she would do it “with my head held high, because I had not committed any crime. I will be dressed in white and I will be out on the street for months, learning first-hand about this so-called Constitution.”

To this date, despite going through several bureaucratic processes to begin her sentence, Rosario has not yet been assigned a work shift.

Today

Rosario continues her work as an opositora and a member of the organization Laura Pollán: Su Legado (Legacy of Laura Pollán), a group allied with the Damas and named after one of their founders. Like the Damas, Laura Pollán carries out non-violent protests to improve life for Cubans. Her son Reinier has emigrated from Cuba. She lives with constant uncertainty, still unsure if or when the State will require her to carry out her labor sentence.

Rosario’s conviction carries serious implications. According to the sentence, she will receive less pay and no promotions in her work. She cannot hold a passport, preventing her from leaving the country. Even Rosario’s travel within Cuba is restricted, as she cannot leave her local city without permission from a judge of the Eastern Havana Municipal Tribunal. She cannot visit her family members in other parts of Cuba without this permission, which she describes as a hardship.

In March of this year, Rosario was called before a judge once again, but despite waiting for hours, she was never seen. She still does not know if or when her Correctional Labor sentence will be carried out, leaving her in legal and emotional limbo.

Under Cuba’s quarantine measures in response to COVID-19, Rosario is now spending her days at home, but she is sure that when the crisis passes, she will take up her activism once again, no matter the consequences. She continues to support her community. She recently made 35 facemasks from her home that were shared with persons in need in the community.

Race and Equality launches practical guide for requesting precautionary measures at the IACHR

Washington, DC.  May 8, 2020.  The International Institute on Race, Equality and Human Rights (Race and Equality) has released “Precautionary Measures at the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights: Function and Process,” a manual to assist activists and human rights defenders with the process of soliciting precautionary measures from the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights (IACHR).

“This educational tool can provide support to civil society organizations who face the risk of serious human rights violations when they prepare requests,” remarked Carlos Quesada, Race and Equality’s Executive Director.

The guide consists of two documents: one aimed at attorneys and legal experts, and an illustrated guide that follows four characters through the process of requesting and receiving precautionary measures, designed to explain the steps of the process to grassroots activists.

“We assembled this guide to ensure that activists who lack experience in the Inter-American legal system can access the precautionary measures process. For each step of the process, the guide provides the reader with a ‘theory review’ where the illustrated characters explain what each step implies and a ‘practical review’ that explains the steps of preparing and filling out each requirement. All the cases used as examples in the guide were created as educational examples; in no way do they correspond to real cases,” explains Christina Fetterhoff, Senior Legal Program Officer.

The guide, now available to download from Race and Equality’s website at www.raceandequality.org/publications, aims to build capacity among users of the Inter-American Human Rights System and in so doing strengthen the System as a whole.

According to Caitlin Kelly, Legal Program Officer for Latin America, “Precautionary measures are a vital tool for protecting human rights and for taking concrete steps to protect people at risk of fundamental rights violations. Race and Equality strives to make this tool and the Inter-American system as a whole more accessible to grassroots activists in the region, as part of our broader efforts to allow these activists to take the lead in demanding their own rights. We hope that it will be very useful to our partners.”

The International Institute on Race, Equality and Human Rights is an organization that works with organizations and activists in Latin America to protect and promote the human rights of marginalized populations, particularly people suffering rights violations due to their race, sex, sexual orientation, or gender identity. Race and Equality provides capacity-building to grassroots organizations so that they can become effective political actors and promote structural changes in their home countries.

The story of Nieves Matamoros, one of the Damas de Blanco activists repressed by the Cuban State

Fifty-five-year-old Nieves Matamoros’ first encounters with the police took place at the stall in Havana where she and her son sold produce. Over time, she grew accustomed to receiving arbitrary and unfair fines as she sought to make a living, but the situation worsened when she joined the Damas de Blanco in 2014. “It was then that they really began to harass and pressure my family and I,” she recalls.

Dressed all in white, Nieves and the Damas braved arrest and violence to call for the release of Cuba’s political prisoners. On several occasions, the women were arrested and held for 24 to 48 hours. Nieves knew that she was at risk of being charged and sentenced, but she persevered and continued to attend the protests.

The fines that she and her son, today 35, received at the produce stand and the additional fines for public disruption that she received at the Sunday protests piled up. In April 2018, Nieves owed 18,000 pesos while her son owed 13,000.[1] “These were fines that I had no ability to pay,” Nieves says. She went to the authorities to ask for a deferral or an agreement to pay in installments, but the official who she met refused, telling her she had to pay the full amount at once.

Nieves received a citation requiring her to report to court on April 9, 2018. State Security forces, however, detained her a day early, as she was marching with the Damas de Blanco. Nieves was thrown to the ground, struck, and brought to a police station.

The next day, Nieves was brought to trial along with her son. One of the witnesses against her was the same official who had refused her request for a deferral of her fines. The official, however, testified that she had never come to the office to request one. In an unfair trial, Nieves and her son were both sentenced to 18 months in prison for failing to pay their fines. Their story highlights a common strategy used by the Cuban authorities: finding pretexts to impose fines against activists, then arresting them for failing to pay these fines. At least six of Cuba’s current political prisoners were imprisoned using this strategy.

“I told the henchmen: you got what you wanted, but I will continue to oppose you from inside.” These were Nieves’ last words in the courtroom as she was sentenced.

Life in prison

Nieves spent two months at El Guatao women’s prison, including a week in an isolation cell without contact from visitors or other inmates. She was then sent to La Bellote women’s prison in the province of Matanzas, where she spent eleven months.

Nieves explains that conditions were “horrible” in both prisons. In La Bellote, she was denied communication with her family on several occasions, while her loved ones were often refused entry without cause when they attempted to visit her. Prison doctors discovered a cyst on her kidney. Remembering the violence of her arrest and the many blows that she had suffered throughout her time in prison, Nieves believes that her incarceration caused her health issues.

“My family suffered so much. It hurt my husband a great deal, and my daughter who could never come to the prison,” Nieves remembers.

Finally, after another stint in El Guatao, Nieves was released on October 5, 2019.

Freedom

Even after her release, Nieves’ health continues to plague her. In late 2019, she underwent an operation for two fibroids. “I believe it was the dirty water, the poor nutrition…they kept getting worse until they had to operate,” says Nieves.

Today, Nieves lives with her husband, her son (who has also been freed), and her three grandchildren, all of whom are younger than 12.

Although Cuban authorities have not returned to threaten her, she still suffers the consequences of her detention. Her health remains poor as she slowly recovers from surgery, and she is not yet able to re-open her produce stand or return to activism with the Damas.

She hopes, when her health improves, to return to the life she once had.

[1] Cuba’s official minimum wage is 400 pesos per month

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]

Yolanda Santana’s Story “A Lady in White released from prison, but not free”

Yolanda Santana has been arrested so many times that she has lost count. She suspects that it has been about 200 times, but the number could be higher. Since joining the Damas de Blanco in 2013, she has been arrested almost every time that she has tried to go to church, when the Damas make their call for freedom and democracy in Cuba.

Sometimes, State Security agents attacked Yolanda and the other Damas on the street, beating them and forcing them into handcuffs to take them away. Other times, security forces would wait until the Damas had boarded public transportation after their protest. They would then stop the bus, round up the women and arrest them, beating and spitting on them as they did so. On multiple occasions, the arresting officers left the women locked in police cars for hours, with the windows rolled up under the blazing summer sun.

The Damas were usually released late at night, but they were sometimes held for more than 24 hours without food and sanitation services and without being allowed to communicate with their families. With every arrest, they were fined 150 pesos for supposedly threatening national security.

“I can’t understand all this about having violated security directives by leaving my house and trying to go to church; I have not committed any crime,” says Yolanda, who is 55 years old.

Trial

It was these accumulated fines that led to Yolanda receiving a citation to appear before the Arroyo Naranjo Tribunal on July 6, 2018. That same day, Yolanda was put on trial and, in an expedited hearing, sentenced to a year in prison for failing to pay 12 fines of 150 pesos. She was also accused of conducting illegal financial transactions and a fraudulent business scheme. The charges were not only incoherent under Cuban law, but involved alleged incidents that Yolanda has no knowledge of. In all, the prosecutor accused Yolanda of 18,000 pesos’ worth of damage.

“They did not assign me a lawyer, and I didn’t hire my own, either. I couldn’t present any evidence or have witnesses because State Security wouldn’t allow it,” says Yolanda. She refused to pay the fines, arguing that because her arrests had been arbitrary and illegal, so were the charges and fines against her.

Life in prison

After being convicted, Yolanda was sent to Western Women’s Prison, known as “El Guatao,” which holds many women ensnared by Cuba’s arbitrary criminal justice system, including multiple political prisoners. Yolanda reports terrible conditions and mistreatment in El Guatao, as do many other women. “There was rotten food that would make you vomit; you couldn’t eat it,” Yolanda remembers. She also reports serious overcrowding, with 28 women crammed into dormitories designed for far fewer. Police and guards often struck the women held there and denied them their rights to visits or phone calls with their families.

Yolanda experienced this abuse firsthand: when she spoke up against the prison’s inhumane conditions, she was banned from using the telephone for three months. She was also harassed and threatened by other inmates, some of whom she believes were working for State Security forces.

“My children, my mother and my grandchildren all suffered greatly during my sentence, but they stayed strong to support me,” says Yolanda.

Each time that she had to say good-bye to her family after they visited her in El Guatao was a trial for Yolanda: “I had to keep my head up and keep the tears back so they wouldn’t see me in a bad state. It’s heartbreaking to be in prison.”

After a year, on July 6, 2019, Yolanda finally finished her sentence and left El Guatao.

Out of prison, but not free

Today, Yolanda shares her home with her son, her daughter-in-law and her 12-year-old grandson. Her daughter and her daughter’s three young children also live nearby. Yolanda was “both mother and father” to her two children as they grew up, and today works to support her grandchildren, who know her as “Mima.”

Not long after leaving prison, Yolanda rejoined the Damas de Blanco. She had joined the group in 2013 after her brother was taken as a political prisoner. After serving her sentence, she felt a duty to rejoin her companions and advocate for the other political prisoners held by the Cuban State.

As Yolanda continues with her activism, the State has continued to pursue her. To this day, she suffers threats and other forms of harassment from the authorities. Her children have also been detained on various occasions. On March 15, 2020, as she was leaving the Damas’ national office, Yolanda was approached by two agents who threatened to send her back to prison, this time for more serious charges carrying a sentence of 4 to 8 years. In less than a year of freedom, Yolanda has already received nine more fines.

But Yolanda’s conviction will not be easy to shake: “If they come after me again because of my activism, I’m ready for them, we’re all ready and my family are prepared. If they thought that they would break me, they were wrong, because what they did was strengthen me.”

Political Prisoner on Hunger Strike: Race and Equality Calls on the Cuban Government to Immediately Free Female Political Prisoners Amid the COVID-19 Crisis

Washington, D.C. April 16, 2020. With the arrival of the coronavirus in Cuba and in conjunction with the #CubanasLibresYa Campaign, the International Institute on Race, Equality and Human Rights (Race and Equality) urges the Cuban Government to release all female political prisoners. As of April 15, 766 cases of infection and 21 deaths due to COVID-19 have been reported in Cuba.[1] The virus is rapidly spreading on the island and the government is putting in place social distancing measures to help protect Cubans.[2] However, persons deprived of liberty in prisons in Cuba are unable to socially distance and face extreme risk. The deplorable conditions these women currently face has caused Martha Sánchez González, a political prisoner in El Guatao Provincial Women’s Prison, to go on hunger strike.

As Race and Equality has documented in our report, Premeditated Convictions: Analysis of the Situation of the Administration of Justice in Cuba, Cuban prisons are notorious for their inhumane conditions, including overcrowding, poor air circulation, and lack of access to fresh air. These conditions have been reported to cause bronchitis and other respiratory infections, creating a perfect environment for COVID-19 to spread and cause severe illness. While Cuban officials recently announced that outside visitors will no longer be permitted in prisons, prisoners are still at risk of contracting the virus from prison guards, who still circulate in the community. In the United States, this has caused widespread infection of inmates in prisons with devastating effects.

Recognizing the extreme risk faced by persons deprived of liberty, the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights Michelle Bachelet has called on governments to take measures to protect inmates, including by reducing the number of people in detention. Similarly, the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights has recognized that prisoners in the region have “a greater risk of the advance of COVID-19” and has urged States to “reduce overcrowding in detention centers as a measure to contain the pandemic.”

The risk to female political prisoners presented by COVID-19 is especially concerning given that Cuba authorities have denied medical attention to political prisoners in the past or provided inadequate care. For example, Xiomara Cruz Miranda, a Lady in White who was convicted of making threats, became gravely ill in prison. She was eventually transferred to a hospital, but her condition worsened as Cuban doctors withheld information about her illness from her family members and were unable to provide an effective treatment. She later left the country in order to seek medical care in the United States. Given this poor precedent in handling the medical needs of political prisoners, it is doubtful that the Cuban government will provide sufficient care to political prisoners who contract COVID-19.

Cuban prison officials have also been refusing to allow prisoners to receive food from their families as a means to stop the spread of COVID-19. However, they have not provided a replacement for this food, which prisoners rely on to survive given that the food provided by the prison is often rotting and lacking nutrition. According to the UN Standard Minimum Rules for the Treatment of Prisoners (Nelson Mandela Rules), “every prisoner shall be provided by the prison administration at the usual hours with food of nutritional value adequate for health and strength, of wholesome quality and well prepared and served.” This week, both Martha Sanchez Gonzalez and Aymara Nieto Muñoz were denied food that their family members worked hard to get to them, which is especially difficult because these women are located in detention centers far away from their homes and transportation in the country has been severely limited due to the virus. Aymara Nieto’s family was told that the food was rejected not because of the coronavirus crisis, but because it was paid for by “imperialist money.” Martha Sanchez Gonzalez has announced that she is going on hunger strike in protest of the horrible conditions she is facing.

Given the extreme danger faced by inmates, Race and Equality calls on the Cuban State to release all female political prisoners in its territory, including Melkis Faure Hechavarria, Maite Hernandez Guerra, Aymara Nieto Muñoz, and Martha Sanchez Gonzalez. These women were convicted of crimes they did not commit after peacefully protesting against the Cuban government. They are not criminals, they are not violent, and they should not be behind bars at any time, but especially not during the crisis caused by the COVID-19 pandemic.

Keeping these women in prison is a continuous violation of Cuba’s international human rights obligations, and Cuba must free these women now. Race and Equality asks the international community to continue to monitor the situation in Cuba and urge respect and protection for the human rights of female political prisoners. We invite the public to join our campaign, #CubanasLibresYa to protect the right to life and health of female political prisoners. View the campaign website here.

“In Cuba, we cannot counteract the impacts of coronavirus in the same way as other countries.” Cuban human rights activists describe how the country is impacted.

The global COVID-19 pandemic has not only claimed the lives of 60,000 people, but has also put political, economic and social systems under strain worldwide.[1] In Latin America, as in all regions of the world, the impacts of the pandemic are not distributed equally across society. States must devote particular attention to the lived realities of the most vulnerable populations, as the region’s experience in addressing poverty, unemployment and violence indicates. Cuban human rights activists also emphasize that state efforts to contain the virus must avoid trampling on the rights of already-marginalized groups.

Cuba’s vulnerability to what some observers have called a world-historical humanitarian disaster stems not only from deficiencies in the country’s national health system, but from pre-existing conditions of poverty, unemployment and shortages that have plagued the island for decades.

Although the Cuban State has confronted the virus by shutting off tourist arrivals to Jose Martí International Airport since March 21st and imposing containment measures, a week of response time was lost after authorities declared the country safe for international travel on March 14th, despite the fact that the World Health Organization had declared a pandemic on March 12th and advised states to respond accordingly.[2]

As of April 8th, the number of confirmed COVID-19 cases in Cuba was 457; the independent outlet Diario de Cuba reports that approximately 10% of these cases are among children.[3] Havana is the epicenter of the epidemic, with 108 cases as of April 7th.[4] As the number of cases rises steadily, human rights activists and independent media outlets reveal concerning gaps in Cuba’s capacity to respond.

“In truth, there is so much uncertainty; we don’t have the full picture because the State doesn’t broadcast complete information over the national media, which it controls. There aren’t enough medicines, hospital capacity isn’t enough for this kind of situation and there have already been shortages for weeks, people don’t have enough to eat,” reported one activist.

Cuba has officially put in place quarantine measures similar to those adopted through the region, but the country’s economic situation inhibits these measures’ effectiveness. Another activist contacted by Race and Equality said that “the situation here makes it so that we can’t stay in our houses to avoid the virus. Cubans have to make their living day-to-day.”

“Among the State’s response measures, attention for elderly people in nursing homes, those who live alone and the many people who sleep on the streets has been announced. Authorities emphasize that people shouldn’t be outside. Big groups continue to form because there have been shortages for months and people need to get supplies. Children and the elderly are the only groups receiving targeted attention; the rest of the population is all treated the same under the official response.”

For years, human rights activists have denounced political, social and economic conditions in Cuba that impede the enjoyment of fundamental rights. With the arrival of coronavirus, chronic food shortages are particularly pressing, as they force Cubans to go out to seek food daily, preventing them from observing quarantine.

Meanwhile, the Cuban Observatory of Human Rights has reported an increase in rights violations amidst the pandemic.[5] The Observatory recorded 251 acts of repression by State authorities in March, including 192 arbitrary detentions and 27 “citations,” or orders to report to a police station for interrogation. These statistics mark March as the most difficult month of 2020 for Cuban civil society.

Cuban organizations have also expressed concern about the impacts of quarantine upon women who suffer violence in their homes. According to the feminist activist Lidia Romero, “Abused women have a concerning situation. Official institutions are not discussing the fact that danger can increase at home because you spend more time exposed to your abuser. That is why campaigns such as ‘Yo sí te creo en Cuba’ [‘Cuba, I believe you,’ an effort to empower victims and survivors of gender-based violence] are working on accompanying victims and reporting abuse.

The impacts of both the disease and containment measures fall especially heavily among groups whose rights are not officially recognized or effectively guaranteed. Race and Equality is particularly concerned about the situation of LGBTI Cubans, especially groups who live in extreme precarity such as trans women and trans sex workers. Romero reports that LGBTI activists have coordinated their own support system through social media, already identifying 17 individuals in need of urgent assistance, of whom 10 are trans women.

Informed by our work with grassroots activists across the region, Race and Equality is also concerned about the lack of disaggregated data about the situation of LGBTI Cubans, particularly trans people, in the pandemic. This data gap presents yet another difficulty in meeting their needs.

Race and Equality recommends that the Cuban State integrate intentional human rights protections into its coronavirus response measures. The State’s response should also specifically address the needs of marginalized groups such as women, the elderly and LGBTI people, including the need to avoid re-victimizing those suffering violence. Finally, we urge the government to fulfill its international obligations by ensuring access to healthcare, food and safety for all people.

We also recommend that the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights and the United Nations continue to press the Cuban State to meet its people’s needs and provide assistance without any discrimination. We encourage these organizations to continue their monitoring of human rights to ensure the Cuban people’s well-being.

[1] “Coronavirus: el mapa que muestra el número de infectados y muertos en el mundo por el covid-19,” BBC News 5 Apr 2020. Available at: https://www.bbc.com/mundo/noticias-51705060.

[2] “Cuba se declara “país seguro” para recibir turistas pese al coronavirus,” La Vanguardia 14 March 2020. Available at: https://www.lavanguardia.com/vida/20200314/474142252815/cuba-se-declara-pais-seguro-para-recibir-turistas-pese-al-coronavirus.html.

[3] “Casi un 10% de los contagiados con Covid-19 en Cuba son niños,” Diario de Cuba 7 April 2020. Available at: https://diariodecuba.com/cuba/1586279874_15666.html.

[4] “With 108 cases of COVID-19, Havana is the epicenter of the epidemic in Cuba,” Diario de Cuba 7 Apr 2020. Available at: https://diariodecuba.com/cuba/1586254554_15556.html.

[5] Observatorio Cubano de Derechos Humanos: “Gobierno cubano incrementa violaciones de derechos humanos en medio de pandemia de coronavirus.” Available at: https://observacuba.org/gobierno-cubano-incrementa-violaciones-de-derechos-humanos-en-medio-de-pandemia-de-coronavirus/.

Melkis Faure Hechavarria: A Story of one of Cuba’s Female Political Prisoners

On the day that she was detained, Melkis Faure Hechavarria did not yet know that she was pregnant. On August 6, 2016, she set out to take part in a protest organized by the Patriotic Union of Cuba (UNPACU), marching peacefully down Calle Monte in Old Havana. When police approached the group, she fell to the ground and refused to fight back, inspired by the philosophy of Mahatma Ghandi. Melkis has not returned to her home since that day.

The police took Melkis to the Sanja police station and then to El Vivac prison, where she was held for 46 days without being charged with any crime. According to her husband Freddie Michel, Melkis realized that she was pregnant during this period, but suffered a miscarriage in prison. She was not allowed to see her family while being held at El Vivac, forcing her to suffer alone.

After 46 days, Melkis was transferred to El Guatao prison, where she was finally allowed to visit with Freddie. A few weeks later, Melkis began to suspect that she was pregnant again.

“When we realized that she might be pregnant, we requested for her to be sent to a doctor, but the prison staff just checked her briefly and told her it was a fibroid,”

says Freddie.

The doctor who checked Melkis wrote her a prescription, but the drugs that she was prescribed were contraindicated for pregnant women. Before long, this medical negligence would have tragic results. “Later on, she started bleeding, and it was then that she suffered another miscarriage,” Freddie remembers.

Activism

Melkis, today 42 years old, became an activist in 2013 by joining the renowned Damas de Blanco. As a homemaker and a mother of five, she knew first-hand the struggles of Cuban women facing poverty. Although she had requested assistance from the state to obtain secure housing several times, she never received it. Inspired by this experience, she later joined UNPACU and raised her voice about the injustices perpetrated by the Cuban state.

“She maintains her position as an opositora, [opponent of the government], she has never changed her ideals,”

describes Freddie, who is 36.

When Melkis was transferred to El Guatao, she was finally charged with “disrupting public order,” “contempt” and “resistance.” According to the prosecutor, Melkis had “acted publicly against the revolution, meeting with anti-social and counter-revolutionary persons.” In the eyes of Cuban authorities, Melkis’ exercising her right to protest and carry a sign reading “Down with Raul Castro and the thieving customs authorities” was a crime punishable by prison.

A full year after her initial arrest, Melkis was found guilty by a judge and sentenced to three years in prison for “disrupting public order” and “contempt.” She was brought back to court months later over charges of “illicit economic activity,” “assault” and “contempt” stemming from an incident before her arrest. Having been found guilty again, she was given a combined sentence of 5 years and 4 months, beginning from October 23, 2017. Melkis did not receive a fair trial or have access to her own impartial defense attorney in either of these proceedings.  

Life in Prision

“It’s too much to count, the suffering that goes on here,” Melkis is heard saying in a 2017 audio recording released by UNPACU. Melkis’ situation never improved after her message was recorded. “In El Guatao, there were shortages, she went hungry and she was tortured by the guards,” Freddie says.

In late 2019, Melkis was transferred to Ceiba Work Camp #4 in the province of Artemisa. Although conditions there are better than in El Guatao, Melkis continues to suffer mistreatment and a lack of nutrition. To prevent inmates from demanding humane treatment and respect for their human rights, prison officials threaten them with the loss of privileges such as furlough or with a transfer back to El Guatao.

Melkis´Family

Two of Melkis’ children have left home and now live with Melkis’ mother. Her three youngest children from a previous relationship, aged 10, 12 and 15 years, are now in Freddie’s care. According to Freddie, it is these children who have been the most affected by Melkis’ detention.

“Taking charge of three children has been life-changing for me. I did it out of love, of course, because I love them and I decided to dedicate myself to them because they truly don’t have anyone else,”

says Freddie, who has been obliged to find several jobs to provide for the children.

With the outbreak of COVID-19 in Cuba, the family’s economic situation has grown precarious as travel restrictions and work stoppages impact Freddie’s employment.

Melkis’ sentence is scheduled to end in 2023; the three years remaining are excruciating for her family. “We miss having her at home every day, so that we could all be together as a family, fighting for a better future and for freedom,” concludes Freddie.

Visit campaign website here

Join Our Efforts

Help empower individuals and communities to achieve structural changes in Latin America.

Donate Contact Us