Fernando Bastias. The situation can be summarised in a somewhat complex, three-phase timeline.

Before the prison system was modernised, there was serious tension due to a lack of government presence. There was a very informal and illegal dynamic surrounding access to health care and food, in addition to generalised corruption, with the government only providing facilities but exercising no control.

Between 2013 and 2014, during the presidency of Rafael Correa, a modernisation process was implemented and included the construction of mega-prisons, reforms to the Organic Comprehensive Criminal Code, and strong police intervention inside prisons. The police carried out intelligence and counterintelligence work that favoured certain criminal groups over others. At that time, the government still had some power to intervene, negotiating with criminal groups but ensuring it still had the final say.

Starting in 2018, following the abolition of the Ministry of Justice, Human Rights and Religious Affairs, management of the prison system was transferred to the National Comprehensive Care Service for People Deprived of Their Liberty (Servicio Nacional de Atención Integral a Personas Privadas de Libertad - SNAI). [Its] deterioration has been accelerating ever since. The new institution faced corrupt practices, budget cuts were made and, later, the impact of the 2020 pandemic exacerbated the situation even more. At the same time, international dynamics, particularly the supply and demand for cocaine in the United States, increased pressure from regional criminal groups, ultimately driving the system toward collapse. The government’s ability to act was reduced, and confrontations between criminal gangs intensified.

While authorities maintain that the crisis started with the massacres, we believe it always existed and that it got worse with the government’s diminished presence. Instead of a comprehensive response, more punitive measures, like militarisation, were adopted, ultimately corrupting the institution responsible for managing the prison system.

Fernando Bastias. In 2024, under the presidency of Daniel Noboa, a decree was issued that handed total control of the prisons over to the armed forces, and prison conditions completely deteriorated as a result. Before, corruption was predominantly among civil servants; now, the armed forces are the ones bringing in drugs, cell phones and weapons.

María Luisa. When militarisation was implemented, many people deprived of their liberty thought it would be a solution. At first, gangs seemed to be under control, but it ultimately led to torture, rape and abuse. There was no actual change; on the contrary, soldiers ended up involved in the same extortion dynamics.

Before the COVID-19 pandemic, some rehabilitation programmes were in place, including workshops on baking, music, theatre, pottery, and carpentry. While far from perfect, it was something. Now, with the military presence, these programmes are completely gone. Without such courses, many people cannot access penitentiary benefits, which worsens the situation. When rights are violated in the name of security, the same cycle of violence repeats itself.

Despite the construction of new mega-prisons, overcrowding continues to be one of the main issues. Neither infrastructure expansion nor management changes have improved living conditions. In April 2025, we once again entered the Litoral Penitentiary and confirmed that the cell blocks are still overpopulated and conditions are still critical.

Ana Morales. Soldiers began to implement punitive measures. One of them, which is referred to as “submarino” here, involves putting a bag over people’s heads and submerging them in tanks of water. In many cases, they die of asphyxiation. Soldiers also use electric shocks on the testicles to extract information about gang affiliation or the location of hidden items.

These practices have been repeated so many times that they became part of the system. The worst part is that the very people deprived of their liberty have learned these torture tactics and are using them on each other.

There is evidence that the armed forces have been mixing ground up glass into the food. Consequently, many incarcerated individuals are developing inflammation in the stomach and legs, and many others have suffered serious damage to their kidneys and stomach. Some people have had to be hospitalised in critical condition, and several have died. What is happening in Ecuadorian prisons is a slow extermination, a government-led genocide.

María Luisa. Outside, the crisis is having a profound impact, and families — especially women — are shouldering the costs. Many live with daily anxiety, not knowing if their relatives are alive or injured, and in addition to that, they face constant financial pressure. At the Permanent Committee for the Defense of Human Rights (CDH), we have handled cases where women must raise between 60 and 80 dollars per week ¹, because that money is demanded of them from inside the prisons as part of the extortion dynamics. When families are warned that, if they do not make a deposit, “they are going to beat [their incarcerated relatives] or do other things to them,” that demand becomes an unbearable burden, especially in circumstances of extreme unsafety.

Ana Morales. For many families, mourning has become a part of daily life. Before, we would line up to see them in prison; now, we go to the cemetery. At the same time, this crisis has also brought us together. We have gone from being “compañeras de fila” to forming committees, spokesperson networks in different prisons and alliances with organisations in other countries. This collective work keeps us going, although also exposing us to threats and stigma. Some mothers have been threatened by people in uniform who, through gestures and words, imply they themselves are part of an organised crime group.

We have complained about these issues, but they ignore us. Those who are dealing with the prison system — inside and out — can no longer tolerate the abuse and beatings from soldiers. They come in, torture you, break your things, and damage pillows, sheets, clothing, everything we bought. That is not rehabilitation. We are the ones who keep the prisons operating and the soldiers destroy everything.