Scenes From a Border Tragedy of Our Own Making (Photo Essay)

Asylum seekers wait in limbo in Matamoros, Mexico, a stone’s throw from the U.S.-Mexico border. On the other side is Brownsville, Texas. Shade is a precious commodity at the Matamoros encampment. (All photos by Michael Nigro)

Families in Matamoros wait for the sun to settle and hope for a donated dinner delivery.

A mother fans her napping child.

Many women are still breastfeeding their children in the camp, as baby formula is hard to come by.

Lunch is frequently delivered to the camp by religious organizations.

Eating what is available.

The United States immigration system is functioning exactly the way it is supposed to — it is designed to make people suffer.

Children were separated from their parents on the U.S. side of the border when they made their case for asylum. Many were put into what they refer to as a hielera, which translates to “icebox.”

Donated toiletries and self-care products are in constant demand.

Many try to find some sense of normalcy in the camp.

Morning routine.

The children in Matamoros are in acute danger of being kidnapped.

One of the volunteer lawyers, Claire Noone from Colorado, tells the migrants about their rights.

Inside a resource center where Lawyers for Good Government would hold sessions to prepare asylum seekers for upcoming immigration court hearings in Texas. The center quickly became a target for the cartels and was too dangerous to keep open. It was closed down after two days.

Attorney Lillian Gonzalez works with a mother holding her child with special needs.

Atenas Burrola, another volunteer lawyer for Lawyers for Good Government.

Texas-based lawyer Jodi Goodwin reads letters that Americans have written to the children in the camp.

“I am so sorry you are being detained at the border…” written in both Spanish and English.

Normalizing.

A journalist shows videos of Americans protesting President Donald Trump’s policies in New York City. They had no idea people across the United States were doing this. They were overjoyed.

A rare glimpse of Federales officers at the border area.

The fence-cum-clothesline separates the plaza and the Rio Grande River, where many asylum seekers must pay the cartels to bathe and wash their clothes.