NOGALES, Sonora — Francisco Trujillo ran through the anatomy of a prosthetic using a young man’s discarded leg.
A sawed-off plastic jug served as the socket — the part connecting the prosthesis to the body — fastening a partial-metal crutch to a shoe.
Trujillo set down the make-shift prosthetic leg along the wall, where other legs were held together with tape, string and wood.

Those temporary prosthetics get people to the clinic of the Arizona Sonora Border Projects for Inclusion (ARSOBO), a nonprofit based in Nogales, Sonora, which makes and supplies medical equipment for people with disabilities primarily across the border region. And those who need them, depart the clinic with a customized prosthetic, wheelchair or hearing device — at low or no cost — providing a vital service that many say needs funding.
“I wish the government would use our tax dollars to provide all those devices to people so we wouldn’t have to exist … But the need is there,” said Trujillo, clinic cofounder and executive director.
Through cross-border collaborations and partnerships, the factory began more than 15 years ago. Specialists, including physicians, provide services and training to patients and staff — some of whom have disabilities themselves.
In 2009, Trujillo, an industrial engineer, and Dr. Burris Duncan, a pediatrician and a professor emeritus of Pediatrics and Public Health at the University of Arizona founded the clinic. The organization was created following a 2008 Border Conference on Disabilities in Nogales, with an initial focus on manufacturing wheelchairs. Since then, it’s served more than 3,000 people from 97 communities across 13 different Mexican states, as well as migrants from Honduras, El Salvador, and Guatemala.
Today, the shop is well equipped with second-hand equipment and quality materials, like silicone. Trujillo shows the rows of frames and wheels in various stages of assembly, ready to become RoughRider wheelchairs made specifically for difficult terrain.
“We’ve noticed that people who live in ranches or rural communities, this chair is perfect for them,” he said.
The factory is currently working on an order of 80 wheelchairs for the Tohono O’odham Nation. The wheels and weight distribution of the RoughRider make it perfect for people who live in places with weaker infrastructure, Trujillo said.

Gabriel and Federico have disabilities. They build chairs, one welding and the other painting. Employees with disabilities are hired as a business model, Trujillo said. The clinic has trained and hired 22 employees with disabilities since 2009, according to its website. Hundreds of prosthetics have been constructed and fitted since 2013.
Trujillo recalled a little boy who was fitted for a prosthetic leg after an accident on “The Beast,” a Mexican freight train often ridden by Central American migrants making their way north.
A woman was asleep on the train and fell, grabbing the boy as she went down, Trujillo said. “The little boy lost his leg and she lost her arm.”
The clinic helps those with little means to help themselves, Trujillo said. Some people arrive with hand-made prosthetics, which are often uncomfortable and can cause long-term damage like sores and over-use injuries because they are not personally fitted or sustainably made.
After years of traveling from Nogales, Sonora, to Los Angeles for his prosthetics, 22-year-old Jordin Castro now gets his above-the-knee hardware and fittings at the clinic.
“It was always like $500 to go (to Los Angeles). I haven’t spent a single cent here in ARSOBO,” he said.
Castro, who was born without legs, says his clinic experience has inspired him to work there.
“Being part of ARSOBO is a source of pride for me because they’ve helped me with everything, and I’d like to help them in some other way too,” he said.
That patient satisfaction motivated prosthetist Eddie Escobar. He volunteered in Sonora while working for Hanger Clinic in Tucson. At the Mexican clinic, he saw patients who had traveled for days and then learned to move smoothly.
“People are diabetics or have had accidents. They would come to the clinic devastated,” said Escobar, who is now retired. “They didn’t think they were going to be able to walk and they’d see other patients that were walking. It’s a really valuable place.”
The factory started making analog hearing aids about 10 years ago. But because those devices — which are cheaper and work by amplifying sounds — are now mostly digital, supply sources are scarce.
“We couldn’t get them in the States anymore,” Trujillo said. “So now we’re having to switch to digital, and that’s going to double the cost.”
The average cost per pair of hearing aids in the United States is $4,600, according to a 2025 study on disparities in hearing-aid use. But the factory keeps costs low — about $650 for a pair. Supplies are sourced from India and the factory works with U.S. manufacturers to help create more affordable digital aids.
As costs increase, the factory has expanded into occupational hearing safety services for local factories, or maquiladoras. It offers hearing tests required by Mexican labor law for workplaces with noise over 80-90 decibels. The clinic invested in portable soundproof testing booths and audiometers developed in Africa. The clinic has certified one technician and it hopes to launch the program officially by next year, Trujillo said.
“We’re debugging everything now,” Trujillo said. “Once we’re ready, we’ll go back to the maquilas and say, ‘Look, we’re certified and ready to provide the service.’ ”
The clinic has also added rehabilitation therapy — crucial to patients using new prosthetics or dealing with mobility issues.
Trujillo hopes the expansion will sustain the clinic’s outreach, but without more income and investment, the program can’t continue, he said.
“You don’t need a lot of money to change somebody’s life. That’s something I’ve really learned here,” he said. “You simply just have to want to do it.”


