The tragic death of a Costa Rican man, deported by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) in a vegetative state, has ignited a firestorm of controversy and heartbreak. But here’s where it gets even more shocking: Randall Alberto Gamboa Esquivel, a 52-year-old man who had traveled to the U.S. in search of work, was allegedly left to deteriorate in detention before being sent back to Costa Rica, where he later died. His family and supporters are now demanding answers, accusing ICE of negligence and inhumane treatment. And this is the part most people miss: While the Trump administration defends Gamboa’s care as superior to what many immigrants receive, his loved ones paint a starkly different picture—one of medical neglect, family desperation, and a system that failed to prioritize his humanity.
Gamboa’s journey began in December 2024 when he reentered the U.S. without authorization, a felony under U.S. law. Arrested by ICE in Texas in February, he was initially held at the Webb County Detention Center before being transferred to another facility in Port Isabel. For months, he called his family daily—until June, when he suddenly went silent. But here’s the kicker: It wasn’t until weeks later that his family learned he had been hospitalized for unspecified psychosis, a detail ICE claims was part of providing him with proper care. Yet, his sister, Greidy Mata, told El País that officials offered no further information, leaving the family in agonizing limbo.
By August, after being scammed by two attorneys and finally locating Gamboa with the help of a third, his family found him bedridden and unresponsive. Diagnosed with encephalopathy, rhabdomyolysis, and unable to eat on his own, he was flown to Costa Rica in an ICE-funded air ambulance on September 3. Despite receiving emergency care in San José and later in his hometown of Pérez Zeledón, Gamboa died on October 26. The question that lingers: Could his death have been prevented with timely and transparent care?
The Trump administration, which has aggressively pursued deportations since January, insists that Gamboa’s treatment was adequate. Assistant Homeland Security Secretary Tricia McLaughlin stated, ‘Ensuring the safety, security, and wellbeing of individuals in our custody is a top priority at ICE.’ Yet, this case raises troubling questions about the agency’s accountability, especially as government data reveals that immigrants with no criminal record make up the largest group in ICE detention. Gamboa, for instance, had prior convictions for non-violent offenses—driving a commercial vehicle without a license and fraud—hardly the profile of a dangerous criminal.
Here’s where it gets controversial: Former Costa Rican President Óscar Arias, a Nobel Peace Prize laureate, has condemned the ‘complicit silence’ of both Costa Rica and the U.S. in Gamboa’s case. Arias, whose U.S. visa was revoked by the Trump administration in April, argued that Gamboa’s family deserves the truth. ‘I will not shut up when the lives of human beings are jeopardized,’ he wrote on social media. His stance highlights a broader debate: Are U.S. immigration policies prioritizing enforcement over humanity?
Gamboa’s partner, Adriana Ureña, echoed this sentiment in a heartfelt video recorded outside his funeral. ‘The medical treatment Randall received in the United States … in my opinion, was terrible,’ she said. Meanwhile, Greidy Mata emphasized that Randall was not a criminal but a deeply loved man who died surrounded by family. The bigger question: Does the U.S. immigration system value the lives of those it detains, or are they merely collateral damage in a broader political agenda?
As Gamboa’s family continues to seek justice, the case serves as a stark reminder of the human cost of immigration policies. Here’s the challenge for you: Do you believe ICE’s treatment of Gamboa was justifiable, or is this a clear case of systemic failure? Share your thoughts in the comments—this is a conversation that demands to be had.
