In a chilling twist of fate, a mother's promise to take her daughter to the magical realm of Disney World transformed into a desperate escape from a life consumed by cartel violence. Gabriela, a pseudonym for the Ecuadorian mother, once enjoyed the semblance of a "normal middle-class life" in Guayaquil, where she spent 15 years working for a television channel, owned a home, and sent her daughter to a private school. However, escalating violence in Ecuador—marked by gang warfare, rising homicides, and rampant extortion—altered her reality significantly.

Initially, Gabriela interpreted the warnings of escalating violence as exaggerated. However, her unassuming life soon took a dark turn when she received a threatening call from a gang demanding a ransom for her safety. As she grappled with the mounting fear, her family was struck by tragedy when her daughter's grandfather was kidnapped, tortured, and murdered, which solidified the life-threatening atmosphere Gabriela found herself in. With her partner's urgings, she ultimately took their daughter on what was meant to be a holiday but became a precarious escape to the United States.

Gabriela’s plight represents a growing trend among asylum seekers from Latin America, many of whom claim their lives were uprooted by the violent drug cartels that have exploded in power and influence across regions. However, the legal landscape for asylum in the U.S. has grown increasingly complex. Current U.S. asylum laws restrict eligibility to persecution based on specific criteria such as race, religion, and political opinion, leaving many victims of cartel violence in a precarious limbo.

During President Trump’s tenure, the environment further tightened for those fleeing gang violence. Legal requirements were raised, demanding that applicants demonstrate government complicity in the violence they suffered—an especially challenging task in countries where corruption is rampant. Although the Biden administration has rolled back some Trump-era policies, the rules governing asylum remain unchanged, creating a precarious situation for individuals like Gabriela.

Reports indicate that about 70% of current asylum claims are denied, with a substantial backlog of cases causing significant waiting periods for those seeking refuge. Gabriela, who has yet to receive a date for her asylum interview, voices her fears about living in constant vigilance, unable to lead a normal life while grappling with the trauma of her past.

Similar experiences echo through the stories of other Ecuadorians like Maria and Luis, who fled their homes due to similar threats. Each has their own harrowing tale tied to the festering violence in Ecuador, entwined with the complicated reality of seeking safety in the U.S. The asylum process can take years, and while immigrants like Maria and Luis wait, they live under the specter of deportation, even as U.S. officials attempt to further restrict pathways to asylum for migrant groups associated with cartel violence.

As Ecuadorians attempt to navigate the treacherous landscape of asylum applications, they stress the importance of seeing their plight in the context of systemic violence and oppression rather than merely as criminal ties. They seek recognition not only as victims of violence but as individuals striving for a semblance of normalcy and security in their lives.