The Trump administration has deported 15 Latin Americans to the Democratic Republic of Congo, sending them thousands of miles from home despite U.S. court orders protecting many from removal to their homelands. These deportations represent a direct circumvention of established legal protections, forcing individuals into unfamiliar territory under coercive conditions.
A 29-year-old Colombian woman, who spoke on condition of anonymity, was among those deported. She had been granted protection under the U.N. Convention Against Torture in May 2025, in her first year of protection, after a federal judge ruled she could not safely be returned to Colombia due to threats from armed groups and abuse by a former government partner. Despite this, she was detained at a routine U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement check-in earlier this year and informed a third country had been found for her. Less than three weeks later, in the same year, she was on a nearly 24-hour charter flight, restrained by her hands and feet, learning of her destination to Congo only the day before departure.
U.S. attorney Alma David, representing some of the deportees, confirmed all had received legal orders from U.S. judges shielding them from removal to their home countries. Legal experts describe the Trump administration's deals with at least eight African countries, including Congo, as an “effective loophole” in U.S. immigration law. These arrangements allow the state to deport individuals whose home countries will not accept them or who possess court protections preventing their return, effectively nullifying judicial rulings. A recent U.S. court ruling found the government likely broke the law by deporting a fellow Colombian to Congo.
The State's Loophole
While other participating African countries have received millions of dollars for similar agreements, the terms of Congo’s deal remain unclear. Congolese President Félix Tshisekedi has publicly called it an “act of goodwill” without financial compensation. However, analysts connect this cooperation to Washington’s pressure on neighboring Rwanda over its support for the M23 rebel group in eastern Congo, revealing a strategic maneuver by the U.S. state apparatus to secure geopolitical influence in the region, rather than a neutral humanitarian arrangement.
The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) has not responded to questions about the Colombian woman’s case, but asserts these agreements “ensure due process under the U.S. Constitution.” The Trump administration claims these measures are necessary to “remove criminal illegal aliens.” This rhetoric stands in stark contrast to the experience of the Colombian woman, who stated she committed no crime and fled to the United States for safety, only to be stranded in a country she had never heard of.
Proxy Detention and Coercion
The International Organization for Migration (IOM), a U.N.-affiliated body, plays a central role in managing the deportees’ lives in Kinshasa. According to the IOM, the Congolese government covers the costs for deportees staying in bungalows at a hotel near the airport. The Colombian woman reported that the gates are locked, security prevents them from leaving alone, and outings are limited to roughly once a week, accompanied by IOM staff, with only about 30 minutes for shopping or withdrawing money. “They choose where we go and what we buy,” she stated.
The IOM has presented deportees with two options: return to their home countries, where many face the persecution they fled, with IOM assistance, or remain in Congo with no support. Attorney Alma David characterized these as “impossible choices,” asserting that the deportations violated due process rights, U.S. immigration law, and international treaty obligations.
Congolese human rights groups have condemned the arrangement as a violation of international refugee law. The Congo-based Institute for Human Rights Research described the situation as “arbitrary detention by proxy for the United States,” highlighting the state’s outsourcing of its coercive power.
The deportees arrived on three-month Congolese visas, with the future after their expiration remaining unclear. They have been informed they can apply for asylum in Congo, an option none have taken. The Colombian woman expressed feeling unsafe in Congo, reported that the food has made several of them sick, and noted that French and Lingala are foreign languages. She spends most of her time in her room, making late-night calls to her 10-year-old daughter in Colombia, a stark illustration of the human cost of these state policies. She remains stranded with no timeline and no plan.