Nebraska León, a determined advocate for LGBTI rights in Ecuador, has been fighting for years to hold the state accountable for police abuses against the LGBTI community. In the 1990s, she fought for the decriminalization of homosexuality, and today she continues to battle for a public apology and reparations for the abuses suffered by the community at the hands of the police between 1980 and 2000.
At 67 years old, with a bob haircut, red lips, and heavy makeup, Nebraska has spent almost half a decade waiting for a response to her complaint regarding the police’s aggression towards gays, lesbians, transgenders, and bisexuals. She lives in a small apartment in the historic center of Quito, where plastic sheets serve as makeshift walls to separate the kitchen from the bedroom. Despite the pain in her legs caused by the biopolymers she injected years ago to thicken her thighs, Nebraska continues to march in the streets and attend collective meetings.
Her largest and brightest room resembles a museum, adorned with posters, newspaper clippings, and old photos of the Coccinelle group during their youth. Nebraska fears suffering the same fate as Jacinta, Rita, Pepita, Vanessa, Gaby, and other trans women who aged in precarious conditions and died while waiting for justice. These women, along with the organizations “Años Dorados LGBTI” and “Sobrevivientes del 516,” reported violations, extortion, physical and psychological violence, arbitrary imprisonment, and other abuses by the police.
The persecution by the police was documented in testimonies collected in Purita Pelayo’s book “Los fantasmas se cabrearon” and by a Truth Commission established in 2010 to investigate state crimes. The report indicates that until 1997, the police had the “power” to “repress” the LGBTI population. Nebraska herself recalls the retaliation by officers when they refused to pay extortion fees and were sent to a cell where they would be exposed to violence and rape.
Although the Truth Commission acknowledged the existence of victims, particularly during the right-wing government of Léon Febres Cordero (1984–1988), it did not identify specific cases. This lack of individualization prevented the victims from receiving reparations. Luisa Villacís, who handled the case until April of this year, explains the need for the lawsuit filed in 2019 to progress.
Nebraska and the Coccinelle group hope to receive public apologies for the abuses suffered and an economic reparation to allow them to survive or live their remaining days with dignity. Nebraska sells whatever she can on the street—sometimes used clothing, sometimes food. Despite the decriminalization of homosexuality 25 years ago, she asserts that “nothing has changed” for the transgender population, which continues to suffer and survive rather than live fulfilling lives.
Ecuador recognizes rights such as marriage equality and the ability to register gender identity on identification documents, but there are still deficiencies in accessing healthcare and employment. Although the initial investigations into attacks against the LGBTI community were conducted by the Prosecutor’s Office, the case has since stalled without clear lines of investigation to hold those responsible for the serious human rights violations accountable.
However, Nebraska and her companions are not idle. On May 17, they gathered in front of the Prosecutor’s Office in Quito to protest once again against the violation of their rights. Holding a sign that read, “We are here for our victims,” they demanded an expedited investigation that has already taken four years.