The sister of a fuel-theft kingpin sanctioned by the U.S. Treasury now holds a key customs post in Matamoros — the very post that, until recently, belonged to a man jailed for helping smuggle stolen gasoline into Texas. That is the finding from Mexicans Against Corruption and Impunity (MCCI), and it means one family now controls both the financial operation and the border gate through which the cartel’s stolen fuel moved. Analee de Jesús Juraidini Silva works as director of procedures and legal affairs at the Matamoros Customs Office.
She got the job in 2022. The man who held it before her, Carlos Eugenio Benítez Orta, sits in Mexico’s El Altiplano prison on charges tied to smuggling illegal fuel across the same border crossing.
Benítez Orta was arrested in Texas. Her brother is Oscar Guillermo Juraidini Silva. The U.S. Treasury designated him last week as a major financial operator for organized crime.
Specifically, for the Jalisco New Generation Cartel, known as CJNG. His job, according to the Treasury, was moving millions of liters of stolen fuel for the cartel.
The fuel theft scheme worked like this: trucks carrying U.S. gasoline declared it as lubricant at the Matamoros customs post. That let them dodge taxes and slip the real product — stolen fuel — into Mexico. The CJNG got the proceeds.
MCCI’s investigation calls the arrangement an open secret that has now hardened into evidence. The cartel, they say, is infiltrated in the Matamoros customs office. The Juraidini family is the proof.
What is at stake here is not just one corrupt official or one crooked family. It is the integrity of a border crossing that handles billions of dollars in legitimate trade each year.
If the CJNG can control the customs post at Matamoros, they can move stolen fuel, weapons, cash, and people at will. The same gate that let Benítez Orta’s network smuggle gasoline can let anything through. The U.S. Treasury has already frozen assets and blocked U.S. transactions for Oscar Guillermo Juraidini Silva.
But his sister still works at the customs office. She still holds the post that once belonged to a man now convicted for the exact same kind of smuggling.
The Mexican government has not said whether it will remove her. MCCI’s report does not claim she personally broke any law. It says she holds the position.
That is enough to raise the question: how deep does the infiltration go? Years ago, MCCI notes, this was whispered about. People in Matamoros knew the customs office was compromised.
Now there is a paper trail. A sanctioned operator.
A sister in the director’s chair. A predecessor in prison. The pieces fit.
The cartel’s reach into Mexican border customs is not new. But the Juraidini case is unusually direct.
One family. One brother flagged by the U.S. Treasury. One sister holding the post that enabled the scheme.
The same post. The same border. The same cartel.
What happens next depends on whether Mexican authorities act. If they do not, the message is clear: the CJNG can own a customs office and keep it.
If they do, the message is equally clear: the U.S. sanctions are not just symbolic. They carry real weight when backed by real enforcement. For now, the sister works on.
The brother is sanctioned. The cartel keeps moving fuel.
And the border crossing remains what it has been for years — a weak point, not a checkpoint.
