Human Impact Project

Salman FNU, an Indonesian man who came to the U.S. on a work visa in 2015, was taken into ICE custody on Sept. 25, 2026 while on his way to Kabucki Japanese Restaurant in Flint, Michigan, which he co-owns with his wife, U.S. citizen Ashley Parker. Five other restaurant employees, four from Indonesia and one from Mexico, were also detained in the preceding weeks, including two who held valid work visas; two of the employees have since been deported. Parker said Salman had reapplied for his work visa and had not heard back before his detention, and described him as the family's breadwinner who pays for his children's tuition and provides free meals to the community weekly. The restaurant has closed, putting seven U.S. citizens out of work, and Salman is being held at an ICE detention facility in Baldwin, Michigan awaiting a bond hearing.

A federal judge in Maryland, Stephanie Gallagher, has now held the Trump administration in contempt twice in two months in the same case over the repeated deportation of a young asylum seeker identified in court documents as E.L.A. He was first deported in March 2026 after missing two biometrics appointments, even though U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services never formally closed his asylum case as is standard practice. After being returned to the U.S. in August 2026 to pursue his claim, he was deported again on September 1, just three weeks after DHS issued internal guidance meant to prevent such removals, violating a third court order. His attorneys said he was left in El Salvador without his belongings, money, or a phone, still wearing a detention jumpsuit; the case stems from a 2019 class-action lawsuit, J.O.P. v. DHS, protecting the asylum rights of immigrants who arrived in the U.S. as unaccompanied minors.

Bryan Omar Sánchez, a Honduran man who had lived in Colorado for about a decade working as a gardener, truck driver, and pressure-washing business owner, was detained by ICE at his home on May 13 and moved through detention centers in Texas and Arizona. Despite a 2020 Convention Against Torture protection barring his return to Honduras and a pending asylum claim, he was placed on a nearly 22-hour flight to the Central African Republic on July 29 without his consent; one officer reportedly mocked him, asking 'Hey, Honduras, why are you going to Africa?' while Sánchez protested, 'Africa? I can't go to Africa.' Once in Bangui, he described being held in a shelter with restricted movement, facing language barriers and limited access to services, prompting Honduras' National Human Rights Commissioner (Conadeh) to demand urgent consular assistance and verification of his well-being. While detained, Sánchez represented himself in filings with Colorado's federal court, arguing he should not have been removed to a country he had never visited. U.S. District Judge Regina M. Rodríguez ruled that ICE violated his due process rights by giving him no notice or opportunity to challenge the removal, and ordered the government to return him to Colorado and release him without conditions such as GPS monitoring.

Pedro Herrera, a 15-year-old in Houston, began cleaning car windshields with his 10-year-old sister to pay for hotel rooms and food after his mother, María Chica, was deported to El Salvador. His father, who lost his sight in a workplace accident, said "Se nos cayó el mundo" ("Our world fell apart") after losing his wife, the family's main breadwinner. The family had lost their home and was staying in a hotel room they had to pay for nightly. After a video of Pedro's story went viral, a GoFundMe campaign raised more than $125,000 in donations for the family.

Pastor Molis Augustave, 33, a faith leader in York, Pennsylvania and former organizer with We Are CASA, was detained after West Manchester Township police stopped him over a reportedly broken headlight while he was driving for DoorDash and turned him over to ICE under the township's 287(g) agreement. He had an approved I-130 petition, a pending I-485 green card application, a pending motion to reopen before the Board of Immigration Appeals, and a federal habeas corpus petition, but was deported to Haiti after 19 days in detention alongside 38 other Haitians. An advocacy campaign led by his U.S.-citizen wife, Omara Boniface Nunez, briefly got him pulled from an initial deportation flight, but USCIS denied his green card application days later. While detained, he led a Bible study group and counseled a fellow detainee who was contemplating suicide. His wife and their two U.S.-born children, Isaac and Sofia, remain in York, where he pastored a congregation, and his Motion to Reopen remains pending.

José Alejandro Aponte, a 65-year-old Cuban man deported from the United States to Villahermosa, Mexico, stayed briefly at the Amparito Shelter and now rents a small room in the city center. When Forbidden Stories spoke with him in spring 2026, he had just been refused residency in Mexico. "I tried to comply with every rule. Now I'm in immigration limbo. I have no papers to go anywhere," he said, adding that he fears losing contact with his family because phone companies now require numbers to be linked to a valid identity document.

Humberto García, a Cuban national deported to Mexico after living 35 years in the United States, tried to travel through the mountains near Tapachula to avoid migration checkpoints. He was approached by three armed attackers who robbed him and shot him twice in the torso; he stumbled for nearly an hour before reaching a road where authorities took him to a hospital. After three days recovering, with no organ damage from the bullets, he had no choice but to return to Tapachula, where he said he was left with nothing to eat and nowhere to sleep.

Lorenzo Sánchez, born in Guantánamo, Cuba, was studying to become a heavy-machinery mechanic when he fled Cuba by boat in the 1980 Mariel boatlift after saying Fidel Castro's government had targeted him for his political ideas. In the U.S. he learned English while working at a museum and school, earned certificates in cabinet making, blueprint reading, and technical drawing, and spent decades building a life in Florida. In June 2025, in his mid-60s, he was arrested for drinking a beer on a Florida beach; a records check turned up a 1991 deportation order and ICE took him to a Miami detention center, then to a hospital in El Paso while he was still recovering from diabetes-related amputation of the toes on his left foot. Told he would be sent to Cuba, he was instead taken across the border — "You're going to Mexico. Cuba doesn't want you," officials told him — and bused over three days from Piedras Negras to Villahermosa, Tabasco, a city he had never visited. After 150 days at the Amparito Shelter he was left on the streets for at least five months, struggling to find water, food, and medication. "Dogs live better than we do, and they eat every day," he said. He was eventually recognized as a refugee in Mexico and is settling into long-term shelter in Guanajuato.

Malick, a pseudonym for a Senegalese man who fled to the US in 2023, had a work permit and legal protection against deportation to his home country, but was placed on a third-country deportation flight to Ghana. He was held at a remote military camp with little electricity or communication, alongside Rabbiatu Kuyateh, a 58-year-old nurse who fled Sierra Leone's civil war and had lived in the Washington, D.C. area for 30 years. Kuyateh was detained by ICE during a routine check-in in July 2025, and despite a judge ruling she could not be deported to Sierra Leone due to past torture there, her attorney says the government pursued sending her to a third country without a hearing. She was flown to Ghana in shackles on a 10-hour flight, and Malick filmed her being forcibly dragged into a van by people believed to work for Ghana's government when she resisted being put on a bus to Sierra Leone. After the footage spread online, Ghanaian troops arrived at the camp at night with trucks of soldiers. Kuyateh's son, Mohamed Alghali, said he has not seen her since the July check-in.

Arsalan Saleh Fard (referred to as "Ali" in one account), a 25-year-old Christian convert from Qazvin Province, Iran, fled after being pursued by Iran's intelligence services and the Basij paramilitary force. He struggled to find work because of tattoos, and when a bank refused to hire him over them, he burned one off himself — only to then be rejected for appearing mentally unstable. After crossing the U.S. border to seek asylum, he was expelled to Panama on a military flight in January/February 2025 without an asylum hearing, as part of a group of 299 migrants deported there weeks after President Trump's inauguration. Eighteen months later, he remains stranded in Panama with no clear path to permanent refuge, at times sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Bella Mosselmans, a human rights lawyer who directs the Global Strategic Litigation Council and represents deportees sent to Panama, said such outcomes are an inevitable result of sending migrants to a country with a nonfunctioning asylum system, language barriers, and little access to legal counsel.

Daniel was detained by ICE agents while on his way to work in Virginia, then passed through several detention centers where he endured harsh conditions before being deported to Guatemala. His sudden deportation left his wife, Marisol, and their one-year-old daughter, Luna, without their primary source of income and support. Daniel and Luna stay connected through daily video calls, while Marisol raises Luna alone without nearby family or a strong support network, facing financial and emotional hardships.

Fatou Traore, a University of Iowa custodian and mother of four, was detained by plainclothes agents on September 24, 2026, while driving to pick up her sister for work in Iowa City. She was subsequently moved through detention facilities in Cedar Rapids, Hardin County, and Omaha before being transferred to ICE's Richwood Correctional Center in Monroe, Louisiana. Her husband and sons, including 19-year-old Esoumaila, remain in Iowa City, and the family is continuing to raise money for legal fees, travel, and resettlement costs as they prepare for her deportation to Guatemala.

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.

Angel Arellano, 17, has taken on multiple jobs after his father, Adrian Enriquez, was detained by ICE and deported to Mexico in May following more than 25 years living in the United States. Angel now wakes around 5 a.m. to work at a welding shop before school, works with his father's former maintenance crew after classes, and washes dishes and busses tables at a restaurant in the evenings. He gave up playing football to help his older brother support their two younger brothers, ages 16 and 11, and at one point offered to drop out of school entirely to work full-time. Enriquez said from detention, 'What hurts the most is seeing them work so much.'

Jorge (a pseudonym), a Guatemalan man who fled gang extortion threats and joined family in San Diego, was arrested by ICE during a raid on his construction worksite after working there for five months. He spent three months in detention, much of it in frigid holding cells where he slept on bare concrete with only a foil sheet, and developed bronchitis after officers allegedly made cells colder in retaliation for complaints; staff denied him hospital care. He said he signed English-language deportation papers he could not read after being threatened with years in federal detention, later learning the signing carried a 10-year reentry bar, and described being shackled during his deportation flight to Guatemala.

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.

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."

José Serrano Salgado, Ecuador's former interior minister under President Rafael Correa, fled to Miami in 2021 and later applied for asylum. ICE arrested him outside his Miami home in mid-2025, and he spent nearly a year detained at Krome North Service Processing Center, where a source said he lost about 25 pounds and his prediabetes worsened into diabetes. In May 2026, an immigration judge denied his asylum claim but granted deferral of removal under the Convention Against Torture after he showed he faced torture if returned to Ecuador. Three Trump-appointed appeals judges reversed that protection within a day of reviewing the case, and Serrano was deported to Ecuador within hours, sent on a private jet in late August 2026. He now faces murder charges over the 2023 assassination of presidential candidate Fernando Villavicencio and is held in a maximum-security prison, where a source said he has been abused, including having his fingernails smashed, being denied food, and being told footage of him stripped naked would be shared with Ecuadorian President Daniel Noboa, a political rival of his former boss.

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 had a criminal record but had already served his sentence in the U.S.; because Cuba has refused to accept his return for nearly three decades, he was flown from Texas and deported without his consent to Eswatini under the Trump administration's third-country deportation program. He has since been held over a year in a maximum-security cell at Matsapha Correctional Complex without being charged with any offense or given access to legal counsel, according to his lawyer, Alma David. He staged a 30-day hunger strike that raised serious health concerns to win small concessions such as wearing his own clothes and having a cellphone to contact family. He does not know if or when he will be released, has missed the deaths of his oldest sister and best friend in America, and will miss his daughter's upcoming wedding. Civic groups in Eswatini have filed court cases challenging the legality of detaining him and other deportees without charge.

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.