The Prairie Band Potawatomi Nation, a Native American tribe rooted in the heart of Kansas, has found itself at the center of a storm after quietly signing a federal contract worth nearly $30 million to help design immigrant detention centers across the United States. The deal, inked in October 2025 by the tribe’s business arm KPB Services LLC, has triggered fierce backlash from Native communities and prompted soul-searching within the tribe itself, as leaders now scramble to exit the agreement and restore trust among their people.
The controversy began when word spread that KPB Services, a newly established entity under the Prairie Band Potawatomi Nation, had landed the lucrative contract with U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) to provide “due diligence and concept designs” for a network of processing and detention centers. The initial contract, awarded for $19 million, was quietly amended a month later to raise the payout ceiling to $29.9 million, according to the Associated Press. What set many on edge wasn’t just the size of the contract, but the way it was awarded—without competitive bidding, a process that typically ensures transparency and fairness in federal procurement.
For a tribe whose ancestors were forcibly removed from the Great Lakes region in the 1830s and relocated to reservation lands just north of Topeka, Kansas, the optics of participating in a project tied to mass deportations proved deeply troubling. As Ray Rice, a 74-year-old tribal member, put it bluntly to the AP, “We are known across the nation now as traitors and treasonous to another race of people. We are brown and they’re brown.” Rice and other members said they were blindsided by the news, feeling both betrayed and bewildered by the tribe’s involvement in a system that, for many, echoed the very injustices their own people had endured generations ago.
The backlash was swift and severe. Many Native Americans across the country, already on edge as ICE raids have in some cases swept up Indigenous people, accused the Prairie Band Potawatomi Nation of profiting from policies reminiscent of forced removals. The uproar led to the firing of the economic development leaders who brokered the deal, with the tribe’s leadership acknowledging the depth of anger and concern among its 4,500 members. The Prairie Band Potawatomi Nation and its business arm, Prairie Band LLC, released a joint statement on December 10, 2025, saying the contract “does not align” with their values and promising that all future engagements would be more closely scrutinized to ensure alignment with the tribe’s mission.
Tribal Chairman Joseph “Zeke” Rupnick addressed the community in a video message on December 12, 2025, vowing “full transparency” and outlining efforts to unwind the agreement. “We know our Indian reservations were the government’s first attempts at detention centers,” Rupnick said, drawing a direct line between the historical trauma of forced relocation and the present-day controversy. “We were placed here because we were prisoners of war. So we must ask ourselves why we would ever participate in something that mirrors the harm and the trauma once done to our people.”
Rupnick, himself a military veteran, emphasized the difference between following orders in the service and making choices as a sovereign nation. “Those who are veterans like myself understand that working with the government sometimes puts you in positions that go against your values. In the military, you have no choice. You complete the job and then you live with it. Our LLC works with the government too, but unlike the military, we can say no. Saying no comes with consequences, including the potential for fewer future contracts, but our values must guide us first,” he said in his message, as reported by Newsweek.
The deal’s origins trace back to April 2025, when KPB Services LLC was established by Ernest C. Woodward Jr., a retired U.S. naval officer and member of the Miami Tribe of Oklahoma. Woodward, described as a “serial entrepreneur” and adviser on tribal federal contracts, has a history of consulting for Native business ventures, but attempts to reach him for comment have been unsuccessful. KPB Services was not listed on the main tribal website, and its prior federal contracting experience appeared minimal, raising further questions about how the company was selected for such a significant project.
Federal contracting experts have also weighed in, noting that sole-source contracts of this magnitude are rare and require additional justification under government rules. “The public’s trust in the federal procurement system depends on transparency and competition,” attorney Joshua Schnell told the AP. “Although there is a role within this system for multimillion dollar sole-source contracts, these contracts are an exception to statutory competition requirements, and taxpayers are entitled to know how the government is spending their money.”
For the Prairie Band Potawatomi Nation, the episode has reopened old wounds and forced a reckoning with the pressures facing many tribes today. As federal funding for Native nations has declined and economic challenges have mounted—from high inflation to increased competition in gaming and other industries—tribal business arms have sought new revenue streams. But, as Indigenous rights attorney Gabe Galanda explained to the AP, “The economic opportunities presented to tribes don’t always align with their values.”
The Prairie Band Potawatomi Nation is not the only tribal entity to come under scrutiny for federal contracts with ICE. An LLC owned by the Poarch Band of Creek Indians in Alabama holds a multimillion dollar deal for administrative services, and some shareholders of an Alaska Native corporation have voiced discomfort with their company’s role in providing security at ICE detention facilities. Across Indian Country, the debate continues over how—and whether—to engage with federal agencies whose missions may conflict with tribal values or histories.
As the tribe works with legal counsel to exit the contract, Chairman Rupnick urged members and critics alike to avoid speculation and online scorn, promising to keep the community informed at every step. “As we move forward, I ask that we do so with integrity and the intent to heal. Scorn and ridicule online helps no one. Speculation is the enemy of the truth. What I can promise you as chairman is that Tribal Council and myself will keep you informed every step of the way,” he stated.
For many, the episode is a stark reminder of the complex choices facing Native nations in the modern era—where economic survival, historical memory, and cultural values are often in tension. As the Prairie Band Potawatomi Nation seeks to chart a new path forward, the lessons of the past remain ever-present, shaping the decisions—and the debates—of the present day.
