MALABO, Equatorial Guinea — A $7.5 million agreement between the Trump administration and Equatorial Guinea has converted a family-owned hotel into a detention facility for asylum seekers deported from the United States, raising questions about the legal framework and fiscal accountability of third-country deportation arrangements.
The Bamy Hotel, owned by the family of President Teodoro Obiang Nguema Mbasogo, has held at least 32 people since November 2025, all of whom had previously been granted protection by U.S. judges, according to their lawyers. Twenty-five have been forced to return to home countries across Africa where their lives might be in danger, while the remaining detainees face pressure from authorities to leave.
The Deportation Framework
The Trump administration uses deportations to third countries as a legal mechanism to indirectly return asylum seekers to their home countries, according to immigration lawyers. Under a series of agreements, the administration has deported thousands of people to nearly two dozen countries that are not their own, according to advocates. The countries with agreements are mostly in the developing world, including roughly a dozen in Africa, according to the group Third Country Deportation Watch.
Experts say countries accepting the deportees may be doing so to earn goodwill in negotiations with the U.S. over trade, migration or aid. The Trump administration declined to comment on the details of its deal with Equatorial Guinea. A State Department spokesperson said, "we remain unwavering in our commitment to end illegal and mass immigration." The Obiang administration did not respond to a request seeking comment.
Conditions at the Facility
AP traveled to the island of Bioko as part of a recent visit by the first American pope and is the only international news organization to visit the hotel detaining migrants. Men and women from Angola, Eritrea, Ethiopia and Mauritania are trapped there for now, wandering the hotel's long corridors and looking out at a shimmering pool they are not allowed to use.
A 26-year-old man from an East African country, who spoke on condition of anonymity out of fear of retaliation, said, "Government people would come all the time and say: Where is your passport? You need to go back to your own country." He also said, "I am scared and depressed." He said that because of his ethnicity and the fact he fled his home country, he would be imprisoned or killed if forced to return.
The deportees have not faced any physical abuse, but they feel intense psychological pressure knowing they are likely headed back to home countries they fear. Human rights experts say all of the asylum seekers at the hotel face a high risk of persecution back home.
The East African man said he traveled from Africa to Brazil and arrived in August 2024 at the U.S. border, where he was detained. He said he was then shuffled between immigration centers in California, Arizona and Louisiana before landing in Equatorial Guinea almost six months ago. He said the deportees sleep in fancy rooms that rarely get cleaned and are served rice and meat at white cloth tables set up inside the hotel's restaurant. After being sickened by the food several times, he said he eats the bare minimum.
A local lawyer brings new toothbrushes, cellphone SIM cards and, for women, sanitary products. Medical care has been uneven. The East African man said he was driven to the hospital right away after complaining of an eye problem, but when he came down with malaria and typhoid, he was not taken to a hospital until his condition had greatly deteriorated, requiring an IV. He said other detainees have had similar experiences. He also said that after he complained to a police officer about his situation, the officer told him his problems would go away if he went to the hotel's fourth floor and jumped out the window. He said, "What can I do now? It's become worse," and, "I started losing my mind."
The Host Country Context
Equatorial Guinea is one of the richest countries in Africa because of its oil resources, but it is also rife with corruption and human rights abuses, according to U.S. officials. The country, a former Spanish colony, fell into economic despair after gaining independence in 1968, and its fate shifted in the 1990s when U.S. companies started drilling for oil along its vast coastline. The subsequent boom transformed the economy, yet over half the population still lives in poverty.
The country's oil-fueled wealth has been largely pocketed by Obiang and his family, according to rights groups. Obiang's 57-year-old son and heir apparent, Teodoro "Teodorin" Obiang Nguema, chronicles his lavish lifestyle on TikTok, soaking in infinity pools, feasting on lobster and traveling on private jets, even as citizens of Equatorial Guinea are banned from the platform. The younger Obiang, who serves as vice president, has faced international sanctions because of corruption across his father's administration, but the U.S. lifted sanctions less than 1 year ago, allowing him to travel to a high-level U.N. meeting in New York last September, just weeks before the deportations to Equatorial Guinea began.
There are virtually no critical voices in Equatorial Guinea, where the government has been accused by rights groups and the U.S. State Department of detaining, torturing and even killing those that dare to speak out. The country's largest foreign investors are U.S. businesses and its military receives funding for training from the U.S. government.
Because Equatorial Guinea is run by an authoritarian government, it is difficult for foreign journalists to visit and report directly on conditions there.
Legal Limbo
The deportees still at the Bamy Hotel know they can be sent home any day. Representatives of the U.N.'s International Organization for Migration and its refugee agency visited the hotel less than 1 year ago in November and promised the deportees they would come back, but they never did. The East African man is the only one among them who has been allowed to see a lawyer, though it is not clear why. Equatorial Guinea has no asylum policy, and his lawyer made a formal request with the prime minister's office, which was described as a long shot worth taking if there was any chance of being released from the hotel. He was told to plead for mercy with the country's vice president, but his asylum claim was rejected. The next morning, authorities deported five other people, leaving him anguished as he awaits his fate. He was told he would be next.
Why This Matters:
The $7.5 million deportation arrangement raises fundamental questions about fiscal responsibility, legal accountability, and the proper role of government agreements with authoritarian regimes. The use of third-country deportations as a mechanism to circumvent judicial protections granted by U.S. judges challenges the rule of law and institutional checks on executive power. From a governance perspective, the opaque nature of these agreements—with details undisclosed to Congress or the public—undermines democratic oversight of taxpayer funds and foreign policy commitments. The choice of Equatorial Guinea, a country the U.S. State Department itself has identified as having serious human rights abuses, creates potential liability for the United States and complicates America's credibility in promoting democratic values and the rule of law internationally. The financial arrangement that benefits the family of an authoritarian leader also raises concerns about whether U.S. policy is being influenced by personal enrichment rather than national interest. These deportations represent a significant expansion of executive authority in immigration enforcement that merits congressional scrutiny and transparent cost-benefit analysis.