Sosa dispenses hope to unaccompanied minors and immigrant smugglers

By Elket Rodríguez

God rescues people who seem beyond hope, Rosalío Sosa believes. He knows God redeems even the darkest circumstances, because he’s seen it happen.

Every day, he wakes up on the U.S.-Mexico border, a region dominated by drug cartels. Lately, he’s experienced victories in the battle against the forces of exploitation. He has seized young men from the grip of the organized crime.

Sosa, pastor of Iglesia Bautista Tierra de Oro in El Paso, directs Red de Refugio de Migrantes, or the Migrant Shelter Network. He coordinates 14 immigrant shelters in the state of Chihuahua, Mexico. Most are located in Ciudad Juarez, across the border from El Paso.

But the shelter that consumes most of Sosa's attention is in Palomas, a border town in the desert, 100 miles west of Juarez. The Palomas shelter has provided comfort to a nonstop string of hurting people since it opened in February. Among them is a heartbreakingly steady flow of unaccompanied minors, which has increased since the U.S government further restricted its immigration policies in March.

"We continue to receive five to 10 unaccompanied minors per week," Sosa reported. Since the shelter opened, Fellowship Southwest has provided monthly operational funds, purchased appliances and helped pay for renovations.

Palomas sits astride a major trade route for all kinds of illegal traffic and contraband. Most of the immigrants the U.S. Customs and Border Protection officers deliver to Palomas crossed into the United States from Anapra, a Juarez neighborhood right next to the border. Ironically, Sosa also operates a shelter called Aposento Alto, or the Upper Room, in Anapra.

Sosa’s firsthand observation of the flow of immigrants from Anapra, to the United States, then back to Palomas has taught him how organized crime operates its immigrant-smuggling operation along the border.

In popular understanding, smugglers are called coyotes, and they bring immigrants across the border and into the United States. But the truth is more complicated, Sosa said.

"Coyotes don't smuggle people to the United States. They hire polleros,” he noted.

The coyotes smuggle or transport migrants to the United States. Then polleros guide migrants across the border. Almost all polleros are Mexican minors who come from poor neighborhoods. 

The cartels take advantage of the young people, who are “immune to Mexican law,” Sosa explained. “Mexico does not execute the existing laws,” because government officials do not want to crowd the juvenile court docket. So, minors get a pass from the Mexican government for violation of immigration laws. That’s why the cartels use them—and not adults, who could be prosecuted—to lead immigrants across the border. Rather than go to prison, the Mexican government drives them into the desert and leaves them in Palomas.

Mexican officials take this approach “to prevent them from going to the ‘school,’” he added. In the Mexican underworld, “school” is slang for prison. It’s where young lawbreakers learn more nefarious ways of committing crime.

That explains why polleros continue to show up at the shelter in Palomas. And even though it complicates his ministry to refugees from Central America, Cuba and elsewhere, Sosa would rather bring the polleros into the shelter than see them go to prison.

"They learn more misdeeds in prison," he said. "In prison, you have time to think and to be trained."

The government’s practice of dumping polleros in Palomas blesses Sosa's ministry, he said. That’s where he shares the love of Christ with them and snatches their souls from the street.

"Organized crime respects when a person comes to Christ, because (salvation) is considered a code of honor and a guarantee that he will not join the rival cartel," Sosa said.

Leamsi, an 18-year old pollero who is living at the Palomas shelter that FSW supports.

This month, an 18-year-old pollero named Leamsi decided to follow Christ while living at the shelter.

"This young man wants to be a chemist and finish high school," explained Sosa, who is convinced Leamsi’s conversion will lead him to abandon his cartel job as a pollero.

Sosa also rescued another young pollero, Mariano, who arrived in Palomas boasting of his criminal exploits.

Mariano, 14, threw his lunch to the floor, and Sosa scolded him. Later, the shelter’s director, Pastor Willie Pérez, calmed the young man with his gentle character. 

"We play the good cop and the bad cop routine, and it gives us good results," Sosa noted. “All these young men need is someone to listen to them.”

Later, Mariano ate, and Sosa listened to his story. Mariano is the oldest of five siblings, and a car accident left their mother in a wheelchair and unemployed. Fear and panic led Mariano to join the cartel.    

“He became very desperate and started selling chocolates until a friend convinced him to smuggle migrants,” Sosa reported. “It is simple, easy, everyone does it, and you earn money.”

Fortunately, Mariano lives three blocks from the Anapra shelter. Its director, Griselle Ramírez, knows Mariano because her son attended school with him.

“We took advantage of the situation and met with Mariano's mother. We delivered food to them, and we are going to continue to meet their needs,” Sosa said. “I know he won’t continue to be a pollero.” 

The shelter in Palomas temporarily houses polleros. But during their short stay, they affect its operation.

This week three polleros tried to burn some cots while representatives of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, the International Organization for Migration and the National Institute of Immigration of Mexico inspected the facility.

"These three youths were arrested and then released," Sosa reported. “I understand where they come from, and I speak their language. They did it to attract attention.”

Due to safety issues related to the constant flow of polleros and unaccompanied minors, Fellowship Southwest assisted the Palomas shelter by contributing to installation of several security cameras. 

Yet, Sosa is focused on winning over more young polleros for Christ. He can’t wait for the three youths who tried to commit arson to return to the shelter. 

“They will return, and when they do, there will be another opportunity to share the gospel,” he explained, a twinkle of hope in his eyes.

Fellowship Southwest provides ongoing support to Sosa’s ministry and to other pastors who minister to immigrants on the U.S.-Mexico border. If you would like to help them be the presence of Christ for  immigrants, click here. 

Elket Rodríguez is the immigrants and refugees advocacy and missions specialist for the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship and Fellowship Southwest.