Human Impact Project

Nika, a 32-year-old Iranian woman who fled Iran after protesting the regime and losing friends in the government's crackdown, had been granted 'withholding of removal' by a US immigration judge to prevent her return to Iran. She was released from ICE custody on May 28, 2026, but days later was re-arrested during what officers called a routine check-in in California. She was handcuffed, shackled, and placed on a deportation flight with 17 other migrants to the Central African Republic, a country she said she had never heard of or visited. Since arriving in Bangui, she has largely stayed indoors out of fear, been stopped by local police demanding bribes, and was hospitalized after contracting malaria. Her immigration lawyer is now filing a federal lawsuit seeking to bring her back to the US and reopen her asylum claim.

A Senegalese woman deported to Ghana under a third-country removal arrangement was sent, along with other detainees, to a remote military camp with little electricity or outside contact after Ghanaian officials reacted angrily to viral video of another deportee being forcibly removed. Fearing she would be returned to Senegal, she attempted suicide by drinking bleach and was hospitalized before being deported back to Senegal anyway.

Gisèle, who fled fighting between the Democratic Republic of Congo and Rwanda, was deported by US authorities to Cameroon under a third-country removal agreement. Suffering from a thyroid condition, she was never able to obtain her medication at the Yaoundé migrant shelter despite repeated requests, and after five months there she abandoned plans to seek asylum in Cameroon and agreed to be sent back to the DR Congo out of concern her health would worsen.

Isatou, a pseudonym for a woman from Guinea who migrated to the U.S. to escape a forced marriage, was removed to Ghana as a third-country destination and subsequently sent back to Guinea, her country of origin. Months after her removal, she said she has had to hide out of fear of encountering her family. "I don’t go out anymore, I’m scared of coming across my family," she said. "They ruined my life."

Roberto Mosquera del Peral, a 59-year-old Cuban immigrant who arrived in the U.S. as a child during the 1980 Mariel boatlift and worked as a plumber while raising four daughters, was detained by ICE at a routine immigration appointment and held at the Krome detention center in Florida. He was later flown from Texas and deported without his consent to Eswatini in southern Africa under the Trump administration's third-country deportation program, since Cuba has refused to accept his return for nearly three decades. He has been held in a maximum-security cell at Matsapha Correctional Complex without being charged with any offense or given access to legal counsel. His lawyer said he staged a 30-day hunger strike, at one point raising serious health concerns, to win small concessions such as wearing his own clothes and having a cellphone to speak with family. Civic groups in Eswatini have filed court cases challenging the legality of detaining him and other deportees without charge.

Leonardo Sánchez, a Cuban migrant with a large abdominal hernia and a pending operation, was deported to Equatorial Guinea and is being held at the Hotel Bamy in Malabo. His mother, Caridad, said from Miami that she has not heard from him in a week because authorities took away detainees' phones to prevent them from speaking with the press. "What they're doing is criminal; the treatment is unfair," she said.

Carlos Rodríguez, a Cuban migrant, was one of five deportees who refused to leave the ICE deportation plane upon landing, saying they did not feel safe; he says officers carried him off the aircraft and beat him while he was handcuffed. He and three other Cubans, along with a Brazilian, had been told by authorities that if they stayed calm they would be returned to the United States, but the plane instead delivered them to Equatorial Guinea. "This is human trafficking, they trafficked us on a plane," he told EL PAÍS.

Rabbiatu Kuyateh, a Sierra Leonean nurse who had lived in the United States for nearly 30 years, was detained during a routine ICE check-in in July 2025 and placed on a deportation flight with 18 other people. She was sent to Ghana, a country she had no ties to, and was then transferred onward to Sierra Leone after arriving there. Kuyateh had raised her U.S.-born son, Mohamed, and cared for her parents, and said of her destination, "Ghana? I'm not from Ghana; what am I going to do there?" The First Circuit Court of Appeals later ruled on September 18, 2026, in D.V.D. v. Department of Homeland Security, that the government could not carry out third-country deportations like hers without advance notice and a meaningful chance to challenge the destination, halting such removals while further review proceeds.

Raúl Suárez Herrero, a 59-year-old Cuban man who moved to the U.S. at age 12 and lived there for nearly five decades, was detained by ICE during a routine annual check-in in July 2025. He was held at the 'Alligator Alcatraz' detention facility in the Florida Everglades, where he says guards locked him in a metal cage roughly the size of a phone booth for more than 15 hours after he prayed aloud for a fellow detainee having a seizure. Suárez said he was kicked hard enough to bruise his leg, denied food and medical care, and left unable to lie down while fearing snakes and mosquitoes entering the cage, an experience he described as leaving him psychologically 'shattered.' A former truck driver who built a business with his brother, a U.S. citizen who died of COVID in 2021, Suárez was deported to Mexico in February 2026 after a federal judge's deadline for his release or removal passed. A DHS inspector general report later confirmed the facility used such small cages, calling the practice 'highly unconventional,' though DHS disputes claims that conditions were inhumane.

Paola Ferreira Dos Santos, a 21-year-old Brazilian woman who crossed into the U.S. in 2021 and worked cleaning construction sites in Massachusetts, was detained by ICE in 2025 after the car she was riding in to work was pursued by agents. Over 15 months she was moved through detention facilities in Massachusetts, Connecticut, Vermont, Texas and Louisiana before being placed on a 16-hour restrained flight without being told her destination, arriving in Monrovia and being told, 'Welcome to Liberia. You're in Africa.' She was the only woman among a group of Latin American deportees sent under a U.S. agreement allowing Liberia to accept up to 1,200 deportees, and attorneys have told her it is now effectively impossible for her to return to the U.S. Dos Santos described detention conditions as psychological torture, saying detainees, including pregnant women, were denied medical care, and recounted a woman being bound at the hands and ankles after asking about her separated son, saying 'they tied her like she was cattle.' She also described being held for days without beds in a frigid room detainees called 'the freezer.'

Sirena Prosper, a hairdresser and mother of seven who owns Royal Hands Salon in Pompano Beach, Florida, was detained by ICE agents at her shop's back door on September 14, 2026, while her three youngest sons, ages 14, 12 and 10, watched, one recording on his phone. Family members said agents refused to return her son's ID unless she came to the door, then grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out of the shop; ICE said she resisted arrest. Prosper was born in the Bahamas to Haitian immigrant parents and has lived in Florida since infancy, but faces deportation to Haiti, a country relatives say she has never known, based on a 2002 final removal order tied to a 1998 armed burglary and larceny conviction. Her family said her removal had previously been canceled due to a medical emergency and that she had complied with ICE check-ins for two decades. She is being held at the South Louisiana ICE Processing Center, a facility advocates say saw two deaths over the summer. Relatives, who describe her as a loving mother and hairdresser, held a prayer vigil outside her salon and are caring for her children while seeking to halt her deportation.

In late August, ICE deported three Nicaraguan men to the Central African Republic, even though none of them had ties to that country and at least two had protections in place that barred their return to Nicaragua. The men reported being transported in handcuffs under duress and were left stranded in Bangui with uncertain immigration status. The deportations are part of a broader U.S. policy of sending migrants to third-party African countries when legal barriers prevent their return to their countries of origin.

A Colombian mother seeking asylum after fleeing domestic violence says she has suffered months of delayed and inadequate medical care for a serious kidney and urinary tract infection while detained at Otay Mesa Detention Center in San Diego. She crossed the border in the San Diego-Tijuana area in September 2025 and has been held since October while her asylum case, which the government sought to redirect to Honduras, remains on appeal. Medical records show repeated visits for pain, bleeding, and blood in her urine that went undertreated for months, including delayed antibiotics, a delayed ultrasound and CT scan, and two emergency room visits before she was hospitalized and diagnosed with pyelonephritis. She said a guard mistreated her, including a 30-day suspension of her phone privileges that cut off contact with her two children.

Samson Birhane, 47, arrived in the US as an Eritrean refugee at age 13 and lost his immigration status after a robbery conviction in 1988, though he had already served his sentence and had been regularly checking in with ICE as required. A US immigration judge had previously ruled he faced a risk of torture if returned to Eritrea, but he was instead deported to Equatorial Guinea under a $7.5 million agreement between the countries. On September 11, 2026, Birhane and fellow deportee Ahmed Soliman, who grew up in Phoenix after his family fled Egypt when he was young, were arrested after helping document abusive conditions at Hotel Bamy, a site used to detain US deportees; officers covered their heads with bags, beat them, and pushed one down a staircase while demanding to know where phones were hidden, accusing them of breaking a mirror. Amnesty International said the men are now held in an overcrowded police cell without access to their attorneys and called for their immediate release, saying the arrest was retaliation for exposing authorities' efforts to coerce deportees into returning to their home countries; the group also cited a September 5 incident in which police pointed firearms at Soliman and other deportees.

A Mexican man identified only as John Doe, who testified against drug traffickers on behalf of U.S. prosecutors, was arrested by ICE as soon as he returned to U.S. soil despite a federal judge's order allowing his safe return. He had been deported three times, most recently on August 1, to an area of high drug-trafficking activity in Mexico, even though an immigration judge had deferred his deportation in 2024 under the Convention Against Torture due to fears he could be tortured by the Mexican government or others acting with its consent. He was never enrolled in the federal witness protection program despite cooperating in criminal cases, and his lawyer, Anna Tijerina, says his life remains at risk from organized crime. U.S. District Judge Stephanie A. Gallagher had ordered that if detained again, he be held within 200 miles of Baltimore, where he lived, with guaranteed access to his attorney.

Pietro Graza de Lima, a gay Brazilian man who lived in Orlando, Florida for about seven years running a small services business, fled Brazil after corrupt police shot him over his sexuality, an attack that cost him a kidney and left lasting physical damage. After his student visa expired and he was arrested for drug possession, ICE detained him for nearly two years, including time at Eloy Detention Center in Arizona. On April 16, 2026, an immigration judge granted him protection from deportation to Brazil under the Convention Against Torture, but ICE continued holding him while seeking another country to deport him to. After he refused to sign a document accepting removal to Liberia, he was shackled for roughly 36 hours and flown to Liberia—where he and other detainees refused to disembark—and then to Equatorial Guinea, a country with which he has no ties. His attorney said he was denied the interview he was entitled to under CAT protections before being sent there. He and about a dozen other deportees have been confined at a decommissioned hotel, Hotel Bamy, in Malabo, where armed officers confiscated his phone on September 8, 2026 after he spoke with journalists, cutting off contact with his attorneys and leaving him unreachable since September 9, 2026.

Julian David Palacios Obregon, a 27-year-old Colombian human rights activist and lawful permanent resident with ties to Canada, spent about 650 days in ICE detention at the Northwest ICE Processing Center in Tacoma, Washington. During his detention he suffered from a severe gastrointestinal bacterial infection causing vomiting, diarrhea and fecal incontinence that required him to wear diapers, saying he had no health problems before entering custody. Staff errors caused him to miss three scheduled colonoscopy appointments recommended by a gastroenterologist, forcing him to choose between receiving medical treatment and attending his asylum hearing. Representing himself, he filed two federal habeas corpus petitions and five humanitarian requests with ICE; a federal court had previously found his removal to Canada reasonably foreseeable but ordered he be given a chance to have his fear of removal reviewed by an immigration judge, while denying earlier requests for expedited release or bond. On September 11, 2026, the U.S. District Court for the Western District of Washington ordered his release, finding that the deficient medical care had made his detention 'punitive' in violation of due process.

Anthony, a Zimbabwean man in his forties, was detained by ICE last year after crossing the US-Mexico border following a long and dangerous journey through Central America. He was subsequently deported to Cameroon, a country with which he has no ties, and now spends much of his time reading the Bible for comfort while facing uncertainty about his future.

Peter, a 51-year-old Kenyan man and country music fan whose son serves in the US Navy, lived in Dallas, Texas for 25 years before being deported to Cameroon, only learning his destination midway through the flight. After arriving, he contracted malaria and spent three days in the hospital on respiratory support. He has since had an interview with the UN refugee agency, which could grant him refugee status, though Cameroon may still decline to accept the outcome.

Ayana, 40, was born in a refugee camp in Sudan to an Eritrean mother and Ethiopian father and lived legally in the United States since she was two years old, building a life in San Diego where she studied business and worked as a nursing assistant and mother. ICE agents detained her while she was renewing her residence permit, and she was flown to Cameroon in shackles, a country with which she has no personal ties or documentation. She said a US judge had found her fear of returning to her family's home countries credible, but she was nonetheless removed to Cameroon under the Trump administration's third-country deportation policy, and now lives in fear and uncertainty in Yaounde with limited support.