The Plight of Nicaraguans on the Verge of Deportation
“We are neither from here nor there”
First-person testimonies of Nicaraguans with parole describe the uncertainty of imminent deportation: “We don’t know if we’ll be able to return”.
HAVANA TIMES – Before leaving Nicaragua for the United States, Victoria sold all her belongings. She traveled through the humanitarian parole program, which allowed a legal stay of two years in the country, but returning to her homeland was not in her plans. Now, with the anti-immigrant policies set by President Donald Trump, she lives in fear that the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) will detain and deport her. She constantly questions herself: “Is it worth it to return to Nicaragua?”
Like Victoria, Marcos, Andrea, and Damaris, all Nicaraguans benefiting from humanitarian parole, feel their legal stay in the United States is hanging by a thread. An executive order signed by President Trump on the night of Monday, January 20, 2025, ordered the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) to “terminate all parole programs and categories,” including the humanitarian parole program for Cubans, Haitians, Nicaraguans, and Venezuelans.
US media outlets such as The New York Times and CBC News have revealed that the Trump administration granted ICE officials the authority to deport parole recipients who have not changed their immigration status. Additionally, they are preparing to revoke the program that allowed more than 93,000 Nicaraguans to legally enter the United States.
Mass deportations and the tightening of immigration policies have left thousands of Nicaraguans on parole in a dilemma: stay in the US at the risk of deportation or attempt to return to Nicaragua, if the regime of Daniel Ortega and Rosario Murillo will allow them back into their country.
CONFIDENCIAL spoke with four Nicaraguans on parole in the United States about their experiences with the program and the uncertainty and fear that have taken hold of the migrant community. These are their stories told in the first person.
Victoria: “I’m afraid to return to Nicaragua”
“Victoria” is a Nicaraguan social worker who worked for over 15 years at one of the universities confiscated by the regime. After losing her job in April 2024, she traveled to the United States under the humanitarian parole program. She still hasn’t adapted to the hectic life of the US and regrets the discrimination faced by the immigrant community. However, returning to Nicaragua is not in her plans, and she fears deportation.
Due to the insecurity in Nicaragua and the unemployment my husband and I were facing, we decided to sell everything and come to the United States under humanitarian parole. The process of adapting has been difficult for me because I feel nostalgic for my country, and here the atmosphere is hostile.
When I arrived in the United States, I felt a bit of fear at the airport because I had to wait in a long line, they took my fingerprints, they took my photo, they took my DNA. I felt like a criminal. Maybe because I came with so many traumas from Nicaragua, where the regime treated me like a criminal, and here I am treated with discrimination.
Since Donald Trump won the election, discrimination against migrants has become stronger. Here, you can enter a supermarket, and they can say anything to you, and you can’t say anything back, you can’t defend yourself because you’re afraid they might retaliate. Additionally, people walk around armed, and any crazy person could approach you.
I currently have a political asylum request because I don’t want to return to Nicaragua. But still, I fear being deported. Imagine if they deport me to Mexico. What am I going to do in Mexico?
I’ve read that people like me who entered with parole and have a political asylum request won’t be deported, but here, anything can happen. My lawyer tells me to stay calm, but I feel that migrants, in general, are at risk.
Unfortunately, returning to Nicaragua is not an option for me. Not because I wouldn’t want to go back, but because of the uncertainty in the country, unemployment, insecurity, and the regime’s reprisals. It’s just not safe. I’m afraid to return.
Moreover, when I left Nicaragua, I sold everything: my car, my motorcycle, all my belongings. If I return now, I would do so with nothing. I feel like I’m with my hands up.
There’s no security in staying here, and there’s no security in returning to Nicaragua. We’re neither from here nor there, like the song says.
I don’t know why Trump has taken these measures, but I believe that, for diplomacy or humanity, he should understand that the dictator (Daniel Ortega) doesn’t let us enter our own country.
Marcos: “I don’t want to go back, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to”
“Marcos” is a Nicaraguan sociologist and teacher who earned a living as an educator in a school in Managua. Disillusioned with the general crisis in Nicaragua, he emigrated to the United States in April 2023 under the humanitarian parole program. His experience has been challenging, as he learned a new language and took on jobs he wasn’t used to. His legal stay in the US expires in April 2025, and although he has filed for political asylum, he still hasn’t received a resolution and feels his future is uncertain.
Returning to Nicaragua after the two-year parole period ends is always a topic of discussion, especially now that the US government has changed, and the Trump administration has stated that the parole program is illegal. I think that, if the program is considered illegal, we, the parolees, will be considered criminals.
One wonders if it’s worth going back to Nicaragua when, on the other hand, the government of Daniel Ortega, from the other extreme, from populism, is saying that those who left for the United States are traitors to the country. In that context, returning to Nicaragua is not a desire.
I’ve already started my asylum application process here, in the United States. However, since I did it a year and a half after my arrival, I have to wait 180 days to apply for a work permit under the C8 category, which is the refugee category. That means that, at some point, once my two years under parole are up, I’ll be without a work permit.
Right now, I’m full of uncertainty because, with the current situation, I don’t know if the Trump administration will accept the paperwork for the new work permit under the refugee category.
The uncertainty is stronger than ever. There’s also the paranoia that at any moment ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) could show up at your job, arrest you, and send you back to Nicaragua—if the Ortega government wants to accept us.
It’s a very stressful situation because I don’t have clarity about parole, which is the program I entered the United States under, and the waiting period for the asylum application is quite exhausting.
At this point, returning to Nicaragua is like tossing a coin in the air, because one thing is for those who’ve been here for many years and are returning to the country, and another thing is for those of us who came after the 2018 sociopolitical crisis.
We know that the Ortega government keeps track of who enters and who leaves the country. I remember when I left Nicaragua, at the airport, they asked for all my personal information and recorded it in a database. Given this context, it’s possible they’ll receive Nicaraguans who might be repatriated, but we don’t know who they’ll deny entry to.
More than 93,000 Nicaraguans on parole in two years
The humanitarian parole was created by the Biden administration in October 2022 for Venezuelans. In January 2023, migrants from Nicaragua, Cuba, and Haiti were added as eligible for the program. Since then, around 531,690 people benefited, legally migrating to the United States, according to data from the US Customs and Border Protection (CBP).
The largest group of migrants that came via the humanitarian parole were Haitians, with 211,040 people, followed by Venezuelans with 117,330, Cubans with 110,240, and Nicaraguans with 93,070.
By December 2024, another 3,200 Nicaraguans had been authorized to travel to the United States, but with President Trump’s decision, they could no longer enter through the program.
The Department of Homeland Security (DHS) claims that, following the approval of this measure, which allowed citizens to live and work legally in the United States for up to two years, migrant apprehensions at the borders decreased by up to 91%.
On February 19, 2025, the Trump administration dealt another blow to Nicaraguans on parole by putting “indefinite” pauses on all asylum applications or residency requests under any option, such as family or work petitions. As a result, parolees are now submerged in even more uncertainty, as it’s unclear what will happen with their applications.
Andrea: “What awaits us in Nicaragua?”
“Andrea” was one of the first Nicaraguans to travel to the United States under the humanitarian parole program in February 2023. She was unemployed when the program was expanded for Nicaraguans, and she didn’t hesitate to apply. Her travel authorization came through in a month, and her excitement was so great that she traveled just days later with minimal preparation. Her legal stay in the US expired in February, and although she has applied for political asylum, her case is still unresolved, and she fears being deported.
The process of adapting to life in the United States is tough. Here, if you don’t have a vehicle or if you don’t speak the language, it’s incredibly difficult. Distances are long for going to work or shopping.
It’s been very hard to adapt, but I started the political asylum process in the United States because I don’t want to return to Nicaragua. I began the process after being here for nine months because the asylum request must be made before completing the first year, and also because there were signs that Donald Trump could be elected.
With Trump’s presidency and his new immigration policies, the situation here has become very ugly. There’s immense tension; you can feel the fear in conversations with friends, and with all the information circulating on social media, we’re even afraid they’ll prohibit us from speaking Spanish.
Returning to Nicaragua now that my legal stay under the humanitarian parole program has expired is not a good option for me, as I participated in the 2018 marches, and I couldn’t go back to my town now that repression has increased.
We know that the Sandinista regime controls all entries and exits from the country. Logically, they’ll hold accountable those who are deported or those who complete their two years of legal stay in the United States. So, what awaits us in Nicaragua?
If I’m forced to leave the US, I would ask to go to Costa Rica or another Central American country that would accept me, because I don’t know if in Nicaragua I’ll be met with prison or my home.
Damaris: “We fled the regime, and now Immigration is chasing us”
“Damaris” is a Nicaraguan opponent to the regime of Daniel Ortega and Rosario Murillo, who actively participated in the 2018 protests in the country. Due to her political activism, she was subject to surveillance by her neighbors and members of the Sandinista Youth. In February 2024, she traveled to the United States through the humanitarian parole program. Though her stay is temporary, she asserts that she has no plans to return to Nicaragua. The idea terrifies her.
It wasn’t easy for me to leave my family and come to the United States, where everything is different. I had to learn a new culture, a new language, and how to be alone. It’s been a huge challenge. The adaptation process takes time.
Since humanitarian parole is only for two years, my stay here is temporary. So, before the year was up, I filed for political asylum to change my immigration status. That request is still in process, and it’s not like it’s all resolved yet.
Trump’s anti-immigrant policies haven’t affected me yet. But, like all migrants, I live in fear of being detained or deported. I go out to work with fear because I don’t know if I’ll return home. Lately, we live in fear.
Even though I have the political asylum request, I still fear because it’s not final yet. It’s still being processed, so they can either accept it or reject it.
Right now, immigrants in the United States, even those of us who are legal, feel vulnerable. Imagine that we, the Nicaraguans, are fleeing the regime’s persecution, and here we suffer from immigration persecution.
I think that we parolees are forced to try to change our immigration status because, with the crisis in Nicaragua, I don’t think it’s wise to return.
If I’m deported, so be it, but it’s hard to return to Nicaragua with the political situation, and besides, no one is safe there.
First published in Spanish by Confidencial and translated and posted in English by Havana Times.