When Oscar Hernandez Amaya, a 34-year-old Honduran man, was transferred last month to the newly reopened immigration detention facility inside Louisiana State Penitentiary—also known as Angola—he became the focal point of a legal and moral battle now drawing national attention. On October 6, 2025, the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) of Louisiana and Robert F. Kennedy Human Rights filed a federal lawsuit in Baton Rouge, arguing that Amaya and others like him are being held illegally and subjected to conditions that, in their words, "amount to a de facto life sentence without any due process."
The lawsuit, reported by the Associated Press and other outlets, challenges the Trump administration’s decision to detain immigrants at Angola, which is infamous for its brutal history as a former slave plantation and its reputation as "America’s Bloodiest Prison." The facility, newly dubbed "Louisiana Lockup," was reopened in September 2025 to house up to 400 immigrant detainees—individuals described by officials as the "worst of the worst" in Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) custody. The first 51 detainees arrived after September 4, following a ceremony attended by U.S. Attorney General Pam Bondi and Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem.
According to the ACLU’s complaint, Amaya’s plight is emblematic of broader constitutional violations. Amaya fled Honduras in 2005 at age 14, after the violent MS-13 gang began recruiting him at age 12. He was granted protection from deportation by U.S. authorities after demonstrating that returning home could mean torture or death. For years, Amaya lived and worked in the United States without incident. But in 2016, he was arrested and convicted of attempted aggravated assault, sentenced to four years, and released after two for good behavior.
After serving his sentence, Amaya was transferred to ICE custody. Earlier this year, the Trump administration issued a deportation order and attempted to remove him to countries other than Honduras, but those efforts failed. In 2025, an immigration judge granted him protection under the Convention Against Torture, recognizing the danger he would face if sent back to Honduras. Despite this, he remains detained at Angola, where advocates say his continued confinement violates the U.S. Constitution’s prohibition on double punishment.
"Our Constitution is clear: no person can be punished twice for the same offense," Alanah Odoms, executive director of the ACLU of Louisiana, said in a statement reported by the AP. "Amaya already served his time for his criminal convictions. Keeping him locked up indefinitely in one of the most notorious prisons in America amounts to a de facto life sentence without any due process. That’s unconstitutional and cruel."
The ACLU’s legal argument rests on the Double Jeopardy clause, which protects people from being punished twice for the same crime. The lawsuit also cites a 2001 Supreme Court ruling that immigration detention should be "nonpunitive." Nora Ahmed, the ACLU of Louisiana’s legal director, told the Associated Press, "The U.S. Supreme Court has been very clear that immigration detention cannot be used for punitive purposes. You cannot serve time for a crime in immigration detention."
Amaya’s case is not unique. The ACLU alleges that some immigrants detained at "Louisiana Lockup" should be released because the government failed to deport them within six months of a removal order—a timeline established by prior Supreme Court decisions. The group’s attorneys argue, "The anti-immigrant campaign under the guise of ‘Making America Safe Again’ does not remotely outweigh or justify indefinite detention in ‘America’s Bloodiest Prison’ without any of the rights afforded to criminal defendants."
The reopening of Angola’s Camp J segment, which had previously been shuttered and nicknamed "the dungeon" for its use of solitary confinement, was announced with much fanfare by state and federal officials. At the September 4 unveiling, Secretary Kristi Noem said the "legendary" maximum security prison, the largest in the nation, had been chosen to house a new ICE facility to encourage people in the U.S. illegally to self-deport. "This facility will hold the most dangerous of criminals," she told reporters, according to AP coverage.
Louisiana Governor Jeff Landry, a Republican, was blunt in his remarks: "I know you all in the media will attempt to have a field day with this facility, and you will try to find everything wrong with our operation in an effort to make those who broke the law in some of the most violent ways victims. If you don’t think that they belong in somewhere like this, you’ve got a problem."
Yet, the conditions inside Angola have provoked outrage among advocates and detainees alike. Two weeks before the lawsuit was filed, reports emerged of a hunger strike among immigrant detainees protesting what they described as a lack of medical care, prescription medication, toilet paper, hygiene products, and clean water. According to the ACLU, detainees described a "long-neglected facility" plagued by mold, dust, and "black" water coming out of showers. These claims, however, were disputed by the Louisiana Department of Public Safety and Corrections, which called the reports "misleading" and suggested the hunger strike only occurred after inaccurate media coverage.
The debate over conditions at Angola is playing out against a backdrop of broader expansion in the nation’s immigration detention system. ICE is seeking to detain up to 100,000 people under a $45 billion expansion signed into law by President Trump in July. Other new facilities have been announced, including the "Speedway Slammer" in Indiana and the "Cornhusker Clink" in Nebraska. The repurposing of Angola comes as the federal government faces legal battles over other controversial detention centers, like "Alligator Alcatraz" in the Florida Everglades.
Meanwhile, the human cost of these policies remains front and center. Amaya’s story—once a teenager fleeing gang violence, now a man fighting for his freedom in a prison known for its harshness—has become a rallying point for civil rights advocates. The ACLU and its allies insist that, regardless of one’s past, the United States must uphold constitutional protections and basic human dignity. As Alanah Odoms put it, "Keeping him locked up indefinitely in one of the most notorious prisons in America amounts to a de facto life sentence without any due process."
As the legal challenge moves forward, the fate of Oscar Amaya and hundreds of others detained at Angola hangs in the balance, with the outcome likely to shape the nation’s approach to immigration detention for years to come.
