Human Impact Project

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."

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.

Walto Deshommes, a Haitian father, was detained by ICE agents just outside a North Park Head Start daycare in San Diego moments after walking his 2-year-old daughter into her classroom. A family advocate said the arrest occurred off school grounds, and Deshommes managed to throw his car keys and ID to daycare staff as he was taken into custody. Staff at the center, operated by the Neighborhood House Association, followed emergency procedures to hand the toddler off to a designated contact. Deshommes and his partner, Suze, had been living in the U.S. under Temporary Protected Status until the Trump administration ended TPS for Haitians in July following a Supreme Court ruling; both have pending asylum cases with an upcoming immigration court date. Suze said she remains committed to appearing at that court date despite facing the process without Deshommes. A family advocate said the arrest reflects a recent trend of ICE targeting Haitians who have fallen out of status but still have pending cases.

Mamady Camara, 21, fled Guinea after police allegedly beat him during a crackdown on anti-government protesters, leaving him with a lasting scar. He crossed the southern border in 2023, was released to pursue an asylum claim, and built a life in Ypsilanti, Michigan, earning a high school diploma, attending community college, and working as a caregiver for Hal Rothbart, a disabled Navy veteran. In January, ICE agents arrested him when he arrived for a scheduled appointment in Detroit, and he has remained in detention at North Lake Processing Center for nearly nine months despite having no criminal record. An immigration judge denied his release as a flight risk, his asylum claim was later denied, and he is now appealing to the Board of Immigration Appeals while the Rothbart family raises funds for his legal defense.

Cece Mokua, a 29-year-old pregnant Kenyan asylum applicant living in Spokane with her husband, Humphrey Oyoo, and their 1-year-old son, was detained by ICE agents while attending what she believed was a scheduled asylum interview with USCIS in Tukwila, WA, after the couple traveled five hours from Spokane. While Oyoo was delayed at a ground-floor metal detector with their child's stroller, Mokua was called upstairs, led into a separate room by an unidentified officer who did not show documents, and taken out a back door; Oyoo waited for hours unaware she had already been transferred to the Northwest ICE Processing Center in Tacoma. She said she experienced contractions and a migraine in custody, was given only a doctor's note for a bottom bunk, and was released after roughly 36 hours without explanation for either her detention or release. She remains in deportation proceedings with an ankle monitor and a scheduled ICE check-in in Spokane; ICE has since pointed to a 2023 traffic stop in which she was charged with driving under the influence as a basis for the arrest. Mokua came to the U.S. legally as a teenager fleeing female genital mutilation but later fell out of legal status. Supporters, including the Northwest Immigrant Rights Project and Defend Migrants Alliance, said ICE has used USCIS appointments as a basis for similar arrests in other cases.

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.

Maureen Wanjiru Ngure, a 38-year-old public health nurse from Concord, California, was detained by ICE on August 14 during a routine check-in at the federal immigration office in San Francisco. Ngure came to the U.S. from Kenya in 2006 on a visitor's visa, became a nurse, married, had two children, and volunteered with Contra Costa County's COVID-19 response team, never missing a check-in in nearly two decades. She and her husband, Peter Mang'ara Muchendu, both U.S. citizens raising their children in the Bay Area, had been planning to relocate the family to Canada after she was offered a healthcare job there. Following her detention, she was transferred through facilities in California, Arizona, and Louisiana, at times sleeping on floors and losing her ID, phone, and wallet. She was served a third-country deportation order and ultimately deported to Kenya. "I felt depressed, I felt confused, I was asking the question: why," Ngure said.

Gabriel Johnson III, a 55-year-old pastor from Cary, North Carolina who has lived in the U.S. since he was 15 or 16 and held legal status including a 2004 withholding of removal barring his deportation to Liberia, was detained by ICE at his home on July 15 over a reportedly missed immigration appointment. His daughter Gabri said that during transfers between facilities in North Carolina, Georgia, Atlanta, and Texas, he was repeatedly denied food, water, and his prescribed stroke and blood pressure medications, and was pressured to sign deportation papers before his scheduled hearing. On July 30 he suffered a stroke that paralyzed the left side of his body; he was hospitalized in the Dallas area and shackled to his bed despite nurses' warnings that this increased stroke risk, and his family said they were initially denied contact or updates on his condition. Johnson, a N.C. Central University graduate who has pastored for 20 years and shares four children with his wife of 30 years, had an emergency stay of removal filed on his behalf, and his family filed a complaint with the DHS Office of Inspector General. ICE and CoreCivic denied mistreatment allegations, stating he was monitored and treated after showing stroke-like symptoms; he has since been released from ICE custody and is moving to a 24-hour rehabilitation hospital.

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.

Wisteguens Jean Quely Charles, a Haitian national who had lived in the U.S. under Temporary Protected Status since 2013, was arrested by ICE in the Boston area (Mattapan) on January 22, 2025, in a video that went viral after he shouted profanities and declared 'Biden forever' while resisting arrest. DHS said his TPS had been terminated by USCIS in 2022 after he accumulated 17 criminal convictions, including assault, weapons, and drug offenses, and alleged gang membership. Massachusetts' Norfolk House of Correction had released him in October 2023 without honoring an ICE detainer. He spent roughly 19 months in federal custody before an immigration judge issued a final removal order in November 2025. ICE deported Charles to Haiti on September 10, 2026, via a flight from Louisiana, during which officials said he became combative.

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.

Molis Augustave, a Haitian immigrant pastor and DoorDash driver in York, Pennsylvania, was pulled over on September 4, 2026 for a burned-out headlight and expired registration, then handed to ICE under a local 287(g) agreement. He entered the U.S. legally in 2016 but lost Temporary Protected Status after the Trump administration ended TPS for Haitians in July 2026, despite having a pending green card application through his U.S. citizen wife, Omara Nunez, with whom he has two young children. He was transferred to a Louisiana ICE facility and moved toward a deportation flight to Haiti, but was pulled off the plane at the last minute after advocacy from his wife, church, and organizations including We Are CASA and the Haitian Bridge Alliance; 89 others on that flight were deported. Augustave says he was handled roughly during his initial detention, leaving him with ongoing neck and back pain, but has since become a source of support for other detainees, leading Bible study and counseling men who are frightened or losing hope. His wife filed a habeas corpus petition in federal court and an appeal to the Board of Immigration Appeals, while local pastors and state Sen. Patty Kim held a news conference calling for his release.

Adnero Pinto Sebastiao, an Angolan national with a pending asylum application, was arrested by ICE agents as he returned from lunch to his job at a bank in the Lewiston area. He had entered the U.S. legally on a tourist visa in March 2024 before applying for asylum, and his immigration case remains pending. His attorneys filed a petition for a writ of habeas corpus arguing the detention was an unlawful warrantless arrest lacking individualized assessment. A federal judge issued an indefinite injunction barring ICE from removing him from the U.S. or transferring him out of the District of Maine, and ordered the government to justify the detention. A DHS spokesperson said Sebastiao overstayed his visa and that a pending asylum application does not confer legal status.

Kwesi Menezes, a 35-year-old lawful permanent resident who had lived in the U.S. since age two and grew up in Burlington County, New Jersey, was found unresponsive in Guyana on August 30, months after being deported there in April. His family believes he overdosed on medication prescribed for schizophrenia, a condition he had struggled with for years. Menezes had been arrested by ICE in Mount Holly, New Jersey, in connection with a prior conviction for assaulting a police officer during what his family described as a mental-health episode, and was later transferred into ICE detention and placed on DHS's 'Worst of the Worst Criminal Aliens Arrested' list in December. His mother and sister said his psychiatric condition was not adequately considered during his immigration proceedings and questioned whether he understood what was happening to him while in custody. Relatives describe him as a gifted singer and dancer who was always willing to help others, and are working to bring his remains back to the U.S. for burial.

A Haitian couple and their two sons, ages 5 and 3 — the youngest a U.S. citizen — were deported to Haiti on August 27, 2026, after Canadian authorities returned them to the United States. The parents and older son were TPS beneficiaries who had also applied for asylum, with a court hearing scheduled for 2029; fearing detention when Haiti's TPS designation ended on July 27, the family crossed into Canada on August 14 to seek asylum there but was handed back to ICE. ICE held the family at a detention center in New York state, separated the father from his wife and children, and did not allow him to call a lawyer, he told a Human Rights Watch researcher, recalling an ICE officer telling him his youngest son could stay in the United States only in government custody, saying, "You will lose him." The family's flight landed in Cap-Haïtien, where Human Rights Watch researchers were present and documented the reception process; the organization said more than 450 people had been deported to Haiti since July.

A 36-year-old father who worked in a factory in Indiana and has two U.S.-citizen daughters was detained by ICE during his lunch break in early August 2026 and deported to Haiti on August 27 after the Supreme Court allowed the administration to end temporary protected status for Haitians. He fled Haiti in 2023 after criminal groups killed his parents, and he had lived and worked in the U.S. under TPS with a pending asylum application. He told a Human Rights Watch researcher he cannot return to his Port-au-Prince neighborhood of Carrefour-Feuilles: "Criminal groups control it. If I go back, they will kill me too."

On August 27, 2026, a flight carrying 57 Haitians, including five children, landed in Cap-Haïtien after the U.S. ended Temporary Protected Status for roughly 350,000 Haitians; deportees described prior work as nursing assistants, factory and farm laborers, and in construction and hotels, and said they were detained without being able to contact lawyers, some despite having pending asylum claims. According to Haiti's National Office for Migration, more than 450 people have been deported since TPS ended, with flights to Cap-Haïtien increasing from about once a month to once a week because criminal violence has made Port-au-Prince's airport unsafe. Returnees arriving at an overwhelmed outdoor reception site with one working toilet and no running water each received about $77, often without their phones, clothes, or identification, and were left without reintegration support in a city whose population has tripled amid surging violence and hunger. Human Rights Watch has called on the U.S. to halt the removals, while the Senate considers House-approved legislation to reinstate TPS for Haitians.

Amson Charleston, a 26-year-old soccer coach, IT specialist, and translator at Lincoln Charter School in Pennsylvania, was detained by Philadelphia ICE officers after a traffic stop in West York Borough. West York Police Chief Matthew Millsap said Charleston was stopped for careless driving in an unregistered, uninspected vehicle and had an outstanding warrant for other motor vehicle offenses before being turned over to ICE. Charleston, a Central Penn College graduate originally from Gonaïves, Haiti, who also coached with Keystone Soccer Club, is now held at the Moshannon Valley ICE Processing Center pending removal proceedings. His fiancé, pastor, players and their families say he had a valid work permit, a pending asylum case, and Temporary Protected Status that ended July 27; DHS says he entered lawfully on Sept. 26, 2020, and overstayed his visa. A Change.org petition and a GoFundMe for his legal expenses have raised over $13,000.