Nineteen detainees at the federal immigration detention center inside Louisiana’s Angola prison have entered a hunger strike, now stretching into its fifth day, according to immigrant rights groups and multiple local news outlets. The protest, which began earlier this week, is drawing renewed scrutiny to the controversial facility known as Camp J—recently reopened as the Louisiana ICE Processing Center under the Trump administration’s expansion of immigration detention in the state.
The hunger strike, first reported by the Southeast Dignity Not Detention Coalition and confirmed by the National Immigration Project (NIPNLG), centers on demands for access to basic necessities and medical care. Detainees are calling for prescription medications, mental health services, hygiene products, toilet paper, and clean drinking water—items they say are routinely denied. They also want visits from ICE officers to raise concerns directly, as well as access to services required by federal detention standards, including a law library and religious programming, which advocates say are absent from the site.
“This is a crisis of dignity and survival,” the Southeast Dignity Not Detention Coalition said in a statement quoted by Unfiltered with Kiran. “The real emergency is what’s happening inside: people are being denied life-saving medication, and some may die as a result. These hunger strikers are bravely speaking out, risking retaliation from Camp J guards and putting their own lives on the line to ensure those around them receive the medical care they need.”
The Louisiana Department of Public Safety & Corrections (DPS&C) disputes these accounts. In a statement released to the press, the department said it was not notified until September 21 that 17 detainees were refusing meals, and as of that date, only three continued to refuse food. The department maintains that all detainees receive prompt medical attention upon intake and as needed, including initial health screenings and access to necessary medications. “These allegations are false. All detainees receive prompt medical attention upon intake and as needed throughout their detention. This includes initial health screenings and access to necessary medical care and medication for any ongoing health issues. Additionally, detainees were provided with hygiene items to maintain personal cleanliness and health. These items are also issued as needed,” the state said in its official response.
Regarding the facility’s infrastructure, the state reported that rounds conducted on the morning of September 22 found no plumbing issues. However, they did confirm that one detainee intentionally flooded his cell on September 21, which was quickly remediated by unclogging the pipe chase in the Independence 4 unit.
Advocacy groups remain unconvinced. Reports from the National Immigration Project and SEDND detail detainees missing basic hygiene products and suffering from neglected health conditions. “Angola’s not being able to provide necessary medical care, hygiene supplies, and access to other essential services is just another reason why this facility should be shut down,” argued Bridget Pranzatelli of the National Immigration Project, according to Louisiana First. The groups are calling for the immediate fulfillment of detainees’ demands, the release of those held at Camp J, and greater transparency around ICE operations in Louisiana.
The hunger strike comes at a time when Louisiana’s role in the national immigration detention system is under the microscope. The state now holds one of the largest populations of detained immigrants in the country, second only to Texas. The Alexandria regional airport has become a major hub for deportation flights during Trump’s second presidency, reflecting the state’s expanding involvement in federal immigration enforcement.
The choice of Angola as the site for immigrant detention is especially fraught. Built in 1901 on land that once held slave plantations, including one named "Angola," the prison has long been associated with harsh conditions and forced inmate labor. It earned the nickname “the bloodiest in the South” after decades of violence and grueling agricultural work. The Camp J unit, in particular, developed a reputation for abusive and degrading conditions, leading to its permanent closure in 2018 after being deemed unfit even for Louisiana’s own prisoners. It briefly reopened in 2020 to house pre-trial detainees during the Covid-19 pandemic, a move that sparked further criticism.
Now, after an executive order from Governor Jeff Landry in July 2025 to repair the deteriorating facility, Camp J—sometimes referred to as “Camp 57” in reference to Landry, Louisiana’s 57th governor—has been rebranded and reopened as an ICE processing center. On September 3, Landry announced that 51 detainees were already housed at the site. The reopening has been met with fierce opposition from advocates, who point to the facility’s troubled past and its unsuitability for housing people seeking safety rather than punishment.
“The same culture of violence and neglect that got Camp J shut down is still there,” said the Southeast Dignity Not Detention Coalition, as reported by Unfiltered with Kiran. “Placing immigrant detainees in this facility—people who are seeking safety, not punishment—is a profound moral failure.”
The hunger strike has also reignited debate over the use of taxpayer funds to reopen and operate what critics describe as an inhumane detention center. “Governor [Jeff] Landry declared a so-called ‘state of emergency’ in order to reopen yet another inhumane detention center on Louisiana taxpayers’ dime. But the real emergency is what’s happening inside,” the SEDND Steering Committee stated, according to Louisiana First.
The detainees’ protest is not the first time Angola has been the site of dramatic resistance. One of the most infamous incidents occurred in 1951, when more than 30 men cut their own Achilles tendons to avoid being sent back into the fields. The hunger strike now unfolding is the latest in a long history of protest and unrest at the prison, highlighting persistent concerns about the treatment of those held within its walls.
As the hunger strike enters its fifth day, the demands for reform and oversight are growing louder. Advocacy groups are urging state officials and ICE to meet with detainees, restore required services, and reconsider the use of Angola for immigration detention altogether. “We will continue to demand accountability until every person detained there has their basic human rights restored,” the National Immigration Project and SEDND said in a joint call to action.
For now, the fate of the hunger strikers—and the broader future of immigration detention in Louisiana—remains uncertain. What is clear is that the protest at Angola has once again brought the state’s controversial role in federal immigration enforcement into sharp focus, forcing officials and advocates alike to grapple with questions of safety, dignity, and justice within one of America’s most notorious prisons.
