Diana Sanchez Ledezma entered the Otay Mesa Detention Center on December 18, 2025. Throughout her lengthy first day, Diana was repeatedly moved in and out of the holding cell for processing, leading to her growing irritation and frustration. She attempted to contact her family using the phone in her cell, but they couldn’t hear her. CoreCivic stated to L.A. TACO that multiple phones are available in both the intake area and housing units at the Otay Mesa facility. Diana initially refused the medical screening, including a pregnancy test. Haunted by horror stories she had heard from other detainees about women being forced to undergo abortions or have their uteruses removed while in immigration detention, she was terrified to take the test. She had also seen news reports of pregnant women being sent to a separate facility in Texas for detention. Unclothed and freezing in a cold holding cell during winter, she later felt punished for refusing the test. After being unable to endure the cold any longer, she reluctantly agreed to take it. Ledezma reflects on these traumatic experiences as a stark contrast to her life as a DJ, a life she aspires to return to following her release. In the Stockton music scene, she is known as DJ Reina Azteca. She is beginning to secure gigs again but must borrow music from friends since her DJ account was deactivated during her nearly four-month detention, resulting in the loss of her entire music library. A once joyful activity had turned into a laborious endeavor. To recover her music, she needed a bank account, which she couldn’t open until her IDs were returned by the federal government. There was uncertainty about when or if that would happen. Much like her time in detention, her future felt unclear. Ledesma first arrived in the U.S. as a child and self-deported back to Mexico in 2020. She told L.A. TACO that she re-entered the U.S. in August 2021. At the time of her December 2025 detention, she was part of the Intensive Supervision Appearance Program (ISAP), one of several initiatives within the Alternatives to Detention Program. These federal programs allow non-citizens with ongoing immigration cases to be released from detention while being monitored for compliance through electronic means, as reported by L.A. Public Press. She was detained during an immigration check-in. Ledesma requested deportation, but due to her pending U-Visa and open asylum case, agents said she had to remain in detention. She was moved through three holding cells before arriving at the Otay Mesa Detention Center in San Diego, an event that altered the course of her life. L.A. TACO consulted multiple medical experts for this story. CoreCivic informed L.A. TACO that, to their knowledge, none of the quoted physicians have treated patients at this specific facility. Dr. Weber, however, has previously reviewed medical cases of detainees at Otay Mesa Detention Center in connection with his work for the Medical Justice Alliance. L.A. TACO sought their expertise on detention centers and discussed the information shared through our reporting based on their experiences. Dr. William Weber, part of the Medical Justice Alliance—a national nonprofit devoted to reviewing medical care for individuals in various confinement settings, including ICE detention centers—told L.A. TACO that he observes common deficiencies in care across detention centers nationwide, including inadequate medical treatment. Frequently, detention centers do not meet their own standards, leaving patients in uncertainty about their care. Diana Ledesma holds a card with a hand-painted butterfly on it. Photo via Otay Mesa Detention Collective. “We’ve seen numerous patients whose concerns are dismissed. Medical staff will often attribute their chest pain or shortness of breath to stress or dehydration and send them back without proper evaluation,” he stated to L.A. TACO. Weber also noted that he has encountered patients struggling to access medications and experiencing interruptions in care due to transfers between detention centers. Dr. Amy Zeidan, an emergency physician and professor at Emory University School of Medicine in Atlanta, who has researched detention centers across the country, told L.A. TACO that there is now less accountability in U.S. immigration detention centers than before 2025. “Currently, there’s no civil rights or civil liberties channel to report injustices, leading to no investigations or triggers for accountability,” she explains. “You can’t address issues you’re unaware of.” Zeidan asserts that violations of medical care standards at immigration detention centers have been consistently identified during routine, unannounced inspections across various facilities nationwide. “It’s a model that attempts to encompass primary care, preventative care, and emergency care, yet lacks effectiveness in all these areas,” she stated. “Though they claim to manage chronic diseases, recent evidence suggests they have not adequately monitored individuals with chronic conditions.” In medical charts she reviewed from various detention centers, visits were primarily prompted by detainees’ own sick call requests, with minimal routine care offered. In some cases of fatalities she analyzed, detainees saw a registered nurse but lacked access to qualified personnel who could effectively treat their conditions. She noted that even referrals for care can be denied by a detention center’s medical director, indicating inadequate screening for communicable diseases and emergency care overall. “Being unable to call 911 or visit an emergency department when you feel you need assistance is extremely concerning,” she remarked. One such incident involved Ismael Ayala-Uribe, who died in ICE custody in September 2025 at the Adelanto ICE Processing Center after developing an abscess in his left buttock. Medical experts examining his case for the San Francisco Chronicle indicated that he could have survived had he received timely medical attention, stating that his treatment was either delayed or not provided. Conditions at the Otay Mesa Detention Center mirrored what Ledesma encountered. She endeavored to advocate for herself and fellow detainees by submitting internal grievances concerning conditions she deemed unacceptable. Diana engaged with other detainees, striving to understand their personal and collective experiences, documenting her observations by texting with community activists outside. Otay Mesa Detention Center, taken from outside. Photo by Aisha Wallace-Palomares for L.A. TACO. Ledesma alleged that she witnessed intimidating behavior from staff, non-consensual pregnancy testing, detainees drinking from a supply closet for water, potential infectious disease outbreaks, inadequate food, and individual-sized cages. “There is a troubling history of coercion concerning reproductive rights in immigration detention,” Dr. Joseph Nwadiuko, a physician and assistant professor at the University of Pennsylvania, who has researched immigration detention for seven years, stated. “In any facility categorized as a prison or jail, the primary tool at hand is confinement, right? Further confinement,” he elaborated. Nwadiuko compares mandating medical tests to coercing detainees into surrendering biological samples, emphasizing the importance of patient autonomy and the ethical concerns surrounding coercive practices regarding biodata. In a statement to L.A. TACO, CoreCivic’s public affairs team, representing the largest private prison operator in the U.S., asserted that the company adheres to all federal detention standards, procedures, and health screenings as part of the intake process. They clarified that pregnancy tests are administered as part of the intake and that detainees receive medical, dental, and mental health evaluations within 12 hours of arrival, a comprehensive health assessment within 14 days, and have access to 24-hour emergency care, according to a DHS spokesperson’s statement. “Individuals refusing screenings are returned to the initial processing area,” the statement claims. L.A. TACO has requested the current Intake Screening guidelines but has not received a response from CoreCivic or DHS by the time of publication. “The treatment we received was inhumane, dehumanizing, and degrading,” she documented. During her first lunch at the facility, Ledesma heard a guard shouting at a detainee. “‘I’m gonna go to your house and rob all your fucking shit,’” Ledesma recounted hearing the guard say to the detainee. Despite her prior experience in an immigration detention center, she had never before encountered a guard speaking in such a manner. This left her anxious about what lay ahead. CoreCivic maintains a zero-tolerance policy for staff misconduct and asserts that all allegations are investigated. L.A. TACO was unable to independently verify Ledesma’s claim. According to Ledesma, during her initial days in detention, she was taken to a cramped holding cell on the day of her court hearing. When she requested water, staff told her she would need to eat first. After about 20 minutes, she informed staff that withholding water from her constituted a civil rights violation. In response, staff led her and other detainees to a utility closet filled with dirty mops and buckets, where they were given cups and instructed to drink from a faucet. She described the water’s taste as “metallic.” This experience was documented in an internal grievance submitted from inside the detention facility, which L.A. TACO reviewed. “The treatment we received was inhumane, dehumanizing, and degrading,” she reiterated in the document. The staff response within the grievance acknowledges that the water fountain in the detainee restroom was nonfunctional that day, that the kitchen failed to provide the requested juice and cups, and that corrective actions would be taken, including repairs to the fountain and staff training. “Under no circumstances will water be provided from the utility closet sink as an alternative source,” reads the staff’s response. In a statement to L.A. TACO, CoreCivic claims the water available to detainees comes from the same municipal source as the surrounding San Diego community and adheres to the same standards. They asserted that their staff drinks the same water as detainees. A handwritten note and drawing for Diana Ledesma. Photo by Aisha Wallace-Palomares for L.A. TACO. “It is not our policy to provide drinking water from a utility sink. This isolated incident was addressed with the involved staff to clarify procedures while repairs were being made to the water fountain within the housing unit,” stated Ryan Gustin, Senior Director of Public Affairs at CoreCivic. “Sending someone to a utility closet for water… signals a significant failure in the operational standards of your facility,” Dr. Nwadiuko remarked. An anonymous former detainee who spoke with L.A. TACO indicated that the water at the facility had a fishy odor, leading him to avoid drinking it. Although Ledesma was reluctant to consume the facility’s water, she felt she had little choice—purchasing water from the commissary was a financial burden, and sometimes her account balance was insufficient. In a pod nicknamed “Golf” by detainees, she drank from a water fountain attached to a toilet. Dr. Nwadiuko mentioned that access to clean water has consistently been a problem he has observed in detention centers. Depending on maintenance, a combination unit—sink and toilet side by side—can pose significant health risks. “Additionally, the cells within our housing units are equipped with industry-standard combination units that include a toilet, sink, and water fountain. The sink and fountain’s water supply is piped separately from the toilet,” Gustin noted. A DHS spokesperson stated that the agency ensures detainees have access to clean drinking water, with bottled water available for purchase at $1.21. However, detainees in California detention facilities earn only $1 a day for their work. Ledesma was astonished to discover individual-sized cages in a large pod area less than a week into her detention. These cages, roughly the size of a five-foot table—allowing only enough room to stand, sit, or walk around a chair—were exclusively designed for one person. “They were just metal cages all the way to the ceiling,” Ledesma recounted. “You’re dreaming, and then suddenly, you open your eyes and realize, ‘Wow, I’m in detention.’” She heard that these cages were frequently used for punishment against detainees who broke rules, and sometimes she saw men confined inside them, which made her anxious about potentially suffering a similar fate. CoreCivic has denied Ledesma’s claims regarding the cages. Ledesma initially did not expect her detention to be protracted; it felt akin to being in jail. As time passed and days blurred into months, she felt increasingly powerless. “You’re dreaming, and then suddenly, you open your eyes and realize, ‘Wow, I’m in detention,’” she said. Each time she exited her cell, something seemed to occur; constant medical emergencies seemed to plague the facility. The unpredictable moods of the guards also impacted her; she braced herself for difficult days based on which guards were assigned. “What the heck am I going to face today?” became a relentless concern. By her third month in detention, she noticed an unusual sensation on her lip. Panicking, she discovered it was a sore. “‘What is this?’ I glanced around and saw many of the girls had similar sores; I thought, ‘Oh my God, this is serious,’” she shared. She felt frustrated that the presence of the sores seemed normalized within the facility; it appeared that no one cared enough to address them. With so much happening, those suffering felt it was a minor issue to raise. The itching and discomfort made her lips feel as though they were aflame. “You’d eliminate one sore, and another would appear,” Ledesma mentioned to L.A. TACO. Fearful of seeking medical help, she rationalized that since others had similar issues, there was likely no need for concern. She could only recall the last time she dealt with sores was during her teenage years. Two people fly a kite outside the Otay Mesa Detention Center. Photo via Otay Mesa Detention Collective. Another former detainee shared a similar experience. Speaking anonymously out of fear of reprisals, he stated that nearly everyone in his pod suffered from mouth sores, including himself. He recounted that he had never experienced such sores prior to detention, mentioning that he had once had a sore from biting himself, but it was different from the ones he encountered while detained. He described the sores he dealt with in detention as occurring on his tongue and inside his cheeks, with some bleeding. Medical experts consulted by L.A. TACO indicated that sores could stem from various causes, but accurate identification without patient evaluations is challenging. Sores may arise due to dr