Roberto Mosquera del Peral, a 58-year-old Cuban national, has become the focal point of a growing international controversy after launching a hunger strike in Eswatini, where he’s been detained for over three months without charge or access to legal counsel. Mosquera, deported from the United States under President Donald Trump’s ramped-up third-country removal program, now finds himself in a maximum-security prison in the small southern African kingdom, his health and legal status hanging in the balance.
According to the Associated Press, Mosquera was one of five men—hailing from Cuba, Jamaica, Laos, Vietnam, and Yemen—sent to Eswatini in July 2025 as part of a U.S. initiative to deport certain foreign nationals to third countries. The program has been sharply criticized by rights groups and lawyers, who allege that deportees are being denied due process and exposed to significant rights abuses.
"My client is arbitrarily detained, and now his life is on the line," Mosquera’s U.S.-based attorney, Alma David, said in a statement reported by Reuters and the Associated Press. David explained that Mosquera began his hunger strike on October 15, 2025, and expressed serious concerns about his deteriorating health. She called on Eswatini Correctional Services to provide immediate updates on Mosquera’s condition and to ensure he receives adequate medical attention. "I demand that Mr. Mosquera be permitted to meet with his lawyer in Eswatini," she added, highlighting the lack of legal access as a critical issue.
The Matsapha Correctional Complex, a sprawling facility near the administrative capital Mbabane, has become the unlikely center of this international dispute. Since July, Mosquera and the other men deported from the U.S. have been held there without being formally charged. According to AP, phone calls to their U.S.-based lawyers are monitored by prison guards, and local attorneys have been repeatedly denied access to the detainees. Legal battles are ongoing in Eswatini’s courts, as both local and international civic groups challenge the legality of holding foreign nationals in prison without charge and without access to legal counsel.
While the Jamaican deportee was repatriated to his home country in September, the remaining men—including Mosquera—have languished in detention. In October, another ten deportees arrived in Eswatini under the same program, bringing the total number of foreign detainees at Matsapha to fifteen. According to AP, these new arrivals come from Vietnam, Cambodia, the Philippines, Cuba, Chad, Ethiopia, and Congo.
The U.S. Department of Homeland Security has defended the deportation program, stating on social media in June that Mosquera was arrested by immigration authorities in Miami and had a criminal history including convictions for homicide, aggravated assault on a police officer, and aggravated battery. The DHS further claimed that the men deported to Eswatini were convicted criminals and that the program is part of a broader effort to remove "illegal aliens" from American soil, giving them a choice to self-deport or face removal to a third country.
However, Mosquera’s attorney, Alma David, disputes the DHS’s characterization of his criminal record. Speaking to Reuters, David clarified that Mosquera was convicted of attempted murder—not murder—and had completed his sentence before being deported. She emphasized that there is no legal basis for his continued imprisonment in Eswatini, a view echoed by other lawyers representing the group. "The fact that my client has been driven to such drastic action highlights that he and the other 13 men must be released from prison. The governments of the United States and Eswatini must take responsibility for the real human consequences of their deal," David stated, according to AP.
The Trump administration’s third-country deportation program has extended beyond Eswatini. According to AP, the U.S. has entered into similar agreements with South Sudan, Rwanda, Ghana, and Uganda (although no deportations to Uganda have been announced). The arrangements are shrouded in secrecy, but Human Rights Watch told AP it had seen documents indicating the U.S. is paying African nations millions of dollars to accept deportees. Specifically, Eswatini reportedly agreed to accept up to 160 deportees for $5.1 million, while Rwanda is to receive $7.5 million for up to 250 deportees.
Eswatini, an absolute monarchy ruled by King Mswati III, has faced persistent allegations of human rights abuses, including a crackdown on dissent and restrictions on civil liberties. Rights groups have expressed alarm at the country’s willingness to accept deportees from the U.S., particularly given its track record on legal protections and due process. The AP notes that civic groups in Eswatini have taken authorities to court, challenging the legality of detaining foreign nationals in prison without charge. The government has said the men will eventually be repatriated, but has offered no clear timeline for when—or if—this will occur.
The situation has left Mosquera and his fellow detainees in a legal and humanitarian limbo. For over three months, they have been held without formal charges, without access to independent legal counsel, and with little information about their futures. Their lawyers argue that all had completed their criminal sentences in the U.S. and are now being held unlawfully in Eswatini, where they have not been charged with any offense.
Efforts to gain access to the detainees have so far been stymied by Eswatini authorities. According to Reuters, a local attorney acting on behalf of the deportees has been engaged in an ongoing legal battle to meet with them, but the government has refused access. The Eswatini correctional services department told Reuters it was reviewing the information but offered no immediate comment on Mosquera’s case.
The U.S. government’s third-country deportation program has drawn fierce criticism from rights advocates, who argue that it undermines international legal standards and exposes vulnerable individuals to further harm. The Associated Press and Reuters both report that the program is seen by critics as denying deportees due process and subjecting them to potential rights abuses in countries with limited legal safeguards.
Meanwhile, the fate of Roberto Mosquera del Peral remains uncertain. His hunger strike has brought renewed attention to the plight of those caught in the crosshairs of international deportation agreements, raising urgent questions about accountability, legality, and human rights. For now, Mosquera’s health is at risk, his legal status unresolved, and his future—like that of so many others—remains deeply uncertain.
