
Fifteen Latin American nationals, granted protection orders by U.S. immigration judges against return to their home countries, have been deported by the Trump administration to Congo, where their future remains uncertain. One 29-year-old Colombian woman, deported despite a U.S. judge’s protection order, described the experience as a nightmare, detailing shackled deportation and confinement in a hotel in Kinshasa.
She reported being treated “like children” and facing an impossible choice: return to Colombia, where she fears persecution, or remain in Congo, a country she had never heard of before her arrival. Her U.S.-based attorney, Alma David, stated that by deporting individuals to a third country without opportunity to contest, the U.S. violated due process rights, its own immigration laws, and international treaty obligations.
The State's Proxy System
Congo is one of at least eight African countries that have entered into agreements with the Trump administration to facilitate these deportations of third-country nationals. Legal experts characterize these arrangements as a legal loophole for the U.S. to circumvent its obligations. Most of the deportees had received legal orders of protection from U.S. judges, shielding them from being sent back to their countries of origin.
The U.S. Department of Homeland Security has asserted that these third-country deportation agreements “ensure due process under the U.S. Constitution,” while the Trump administration claims they are necessary to “remove criminal illegal aliens” whose countries of origin will not accept them. However, current U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) policy allows for deportation without notice of destination if a government provides “blanket diplomatic assurances” against persecution.
Congolese President Félix Tshisekedi described the agreement as an “act of goodwill between partners,” stating it was a “friendly gesture” done “simply because it was what the Americans wanted.” He denied financial compensation for this specific deal, though other countries have reportedly received millions of dollars to participate in similar arrangements. Tshisekedi remarked that the migrants, who “dreamed of living the American dream,” are now “living the Congolese dream” in a country they likely did not know.
Congolese human rights groups have condemned the practice 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 role of the Congolese state in enforcing U.S. imperial policy.
Confinement and Control
The Colombian woman detailed her confinement in a hotel near Kinshasa’s airport, where she and other deportees are held. She reported that the UN-affiliated International Organization for Migration (IOM) staff allow deportees to leave the hotel only about once a week, always accompanied, and dictate where they go and what they buy. Hotel gates are locked, and security personnel prevent them from leaving on their own.
IOM staff have organized activities like painting and music, but many deportees have stopped participating, bored with the routine. The IOM has offered the woman two options: return to Colombia with IOM “protection and assistance,” despite a U.S. judge ruling she cannot safely be sent there, or remain in Congo with no support. Her attorney called these “impossible choices.” An IOM spokesperson stated the organization provides “humanitarian assistance” including “protection interventions” and “rights safeguarding,” but offered no specific details.
The Cost to Labor
The Colombian woman left her home country 2 years ago, in 2024, following threats from armed groups and abuse by a former partner who worked for the government. She presented herself at an Arizona port of entry in September 2024, where immigration officials determined she had a credible fear of persecution, clearing her for asylum application. Despite this, she was held in ICE detention for 1.5 years.
During her detention, she described being “locked up, living the same day over and over again,” witnessing fights and punishments, and losing privacy. She reported that some officers made racist remarks, “made derogatory comments toward us as migrants, shouted at us all the time and sometimes denied basic things like showers as punishment.”
In May 2025, 1 year ago, a federal judge granted her protection under the U.N. Convention Against Torture, ruling she could not be safely returned to Colombia. She won her release 3 months ago, in February 2026, and moved to Texas, where she was required to wear a GPS monitoring device. However, at her first check-in appointment with ICE, she was re-detained. Less than three weeks later, 1 month ago, she was put on a nearly 24-hour charter flight to Congo, shackled at her hands and feet.
Now in Congo, she makes late-night calls to her 10-year-old daughter in Colombia, worrying when she will see her again. She reported that the food provided has made them “very sick,” causing ongoing stomach ailments, and that local languages are foreign to her. She concluded, “The worst part is having to go through all of that without having committed any crime, simply for going to another country to ask for safety and protection.”