Kiwi ICE detainee Everlee Wihongi on 'dehumanising conditions' in custody

Kiwi citizen Everlee Wihongi, who spent over two months in U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) custody, described the experience as one of the most miserable of her life. The 59-year-old, who has lived in the United States for decades and holds a green card, was detained in early April after returning from New Zealand. Her release came in late June following the dismissal of a 2016 cannabis conviction that had initially led to her arrest. Wihongi’s ordeal began when she was apprehended by ICE upon her return to the U.S. from New Zealand. She was held for more than 70 days due to the conviction, which was later overturned by a court. Now back in Wisconsin with her family, she spoke to Radio New Zealand about the dehumanizing conditions she faced while in custody. At the facility, she was referred to by a bunk-bed number, “Six Up”, rather than her name. This practice, she explained, stripped her of her identity and dignity. “Whenever you’d have an appointment or you had to go see a lawyer, anything, they would just go ‘Six Up, you have an appointment,’” she recalled. Daily routines in the detention centers proved equally challenging. In her first facility, residents were required to wake at 6 a.m. for breakfast, and those who missed it were denied food until lunch. In Arizona, the schedule was even stricter, with meals starting at 3:45 a.m. Wihongi described the lack of basic human dignity as deeply distressing. “It was dehumanising conditions,” she said, emphasizing the emotional toll of such treatment. During her detention, Wihongi was transferred between multiple facilities, including one in California, another in Arizona, and a temporary holding area in Texas. She recounted witnessing other detainees being forcibly removed from a plane before boarding. They were woken at 1:30 a.m., shackled, and transported in a van, unable to see the plane as people disembarked. Among those being taken were children, a pregnant woman, and elderly individuals, all treated with little regard for their humanity. “They were just being marched around like herded animals,” she said. Despite the trauma, Wihongi found some comfort in the support from her family and the assistance provided by New Zealand’s diplomatic representatives. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade offered consular aid throughout her detention, with staff from the Los Angeles consulate helping her retrieve essential documents such as her passport, green card, and driver’s license. These items had been lost or withheld during her incarceration. She also noted that the consulate brought her New Zealand chocolate on one visit, offering a small but meaningful connection to home. Wihongi expressed surprise at the public reaction to her case. While she acknowledged the emotional impact of her experience, she was struck by the overwhelming love and support she received from both family and strangers. “It was something else to come out of something like that to so much love and support from not only my family, but strangers and people I didn’t know,” she said. She hopes others in similar situations might find the same kind of solidarity. Wihongi also criticized the government’s explanation for her detention, which claimed she failed to declare her past cannabis conviction. She disputed this, stating she had never received the necessary form to document her record. “Even when the consulate asked, ‘Did you get one of those papers to mark your conviction?’ I was never given one of those,” she said. This discrepancy highlights ongoing concerns about transparency and fairness in immigration enforcement. As Wihongi continues to adjust to life outside detention, she remains hopeful that others facing similar challenges will receive the same level of compassion and support. Her story underscores the complex realities of immigration law and the personal toll it can take on individuals caught in its web.