As dozens of deported migrants crowd into a sweltering airport facility in San Pedro Sula, Norma sits under fluorescent lights, clutching a foam cup of coffee and a small plate of eggs – all that awaited her in Honduras.
The 69-year-old Honduran mother had never considered leaving the Central American country. But then there were the anonymous death threats against her and her children, as well as the armed men who showed up at her door, threatening to kill her, just as they had done to one of her relatives days earlier.
Norma, who asked for anonymity due to concerns about her safety, spent $10,000 of her life savings on a one-way trip north with her daughter and granddaughter at the end of October.
However, after her asylum applications to the United States were denied, they were loaded onto a deportation flight. She is now back in Honduras, surrounded by the same gang and trapped in the cycle of violence and economic precarity that deportees face.
“They can find us in every corner of Honduras,” she explained at the migrant processing center. “We’re praying for God’s protection, because we don’t expect anything from the government.”
Now, as U.S. President-elect Donald Trump prepares to take office in January with a promise to carry out mass deportations, Honduras and other Central American countries where people have fled for generations are bracing for a potential influx of vulnerable migrants — a situation they are unprepared for.
‘We don’t have the capacity’
Honduras, Guatemala, and El Salvador, which have the most people living illegally in the United States after Mexico, could be among the first and most heavily impacted by mass deportations, according to Jason Houser, former Immigration and Customs Enforcement chief of staff during the Biden administration.
Because countries such as Venezuela refuse to accept deportation flights from the United States, Houser suggests that the Trump administration prioritize the deportation of “the most vulnerable” migrants from those countries who have removal orders but no criminal record, in order to quickly increase deportation numbers.
“Hondurans, Guatemalans, Salvadorans need to be very, very nervous because (Trump officials) are going to press the bounds of the law,” said Representative Houser.
Migrants and deportee aid networks in the Northern Triangle countries are concerned that their return will plunge them into even deeper economic and humanitarian crises, fueling future migration.
Honduran Deputy Foreign Minister Antonio García stated, “We don’t have the capacity” to accommodate such a large number of people. “There’s very little here for deportees.” People who return, he said, “are the last to be taken care of.”
Making their way back to the US
Since 2015, Honduras has received approximately half a million deportations. They get off planes and buses to be greeted with coffee, small plates of food, and bags of toothpaste and deodorant. Released from harsh conditions in US detention facilities, some sigh with relief, while others cry out in fear.
One woman in a line of deportees waiting for a man clacking on a keyboard to call their names said, “We don’t know what we’ll do, what comes next.”
According to US government figures, approximately 560,000 Hondurans, or about 5% of the country’s population, are living in the United States without legal status. Experts in migration estimate that they can quickly track down and expel approximately 150,000 Hondurans.
According to García, the government provides services for returnees, but many are released with little assistance into a country plagued by gangs. They have few options for finding work to pay off their crippling debts. Others, like Norma, are left with nowhere to go due to gang members circling her home.
Norma is unsure why they were targeted, but she believes it was because the deceased relative had gang-related issues.
Despite the crackdown, García estimates that up to 40% of Honduran deportees return to the United States.
A looming humanitarian crisis
Larissa Martínez, 31, and her three children were deported from the United States in 2021 and have struggled to reintegrate into Honduran society since. Driven by economic desperation and the absence of her husband, who had migrated and abandoned her for another woman, the single mother sought a better life in the United States.
Martínez has been looking for work in Honduras for three years to support her family and repay a $5,000 debt to relatives for the trip north.
Her efforts have failed. She built a wobbly wooden home tucked away on the hilly outskirts of San Pedro Sula, where she sells meat and cheese to make ends meet, but sales have been slow, and tropical rains have eaten away at the flimsy walls where they sleep.
So she started repeating a chant in her head: “If I don’t find work in December, I’ll leave in January.”
César Muñoz, a leader at Mennonite Social Action Commission, said Honduran authorities have abandoned deportees like Martínez, leaving organizations like his to step in. But with three deportation flights arriving weekly, aid networks are already stretched thin.
A significant uptick could leave aid networks, migrants and their families reeling. Meanwhile, countries like Honduras, heavily reliant on remittances from the U.S., could face severe economic consequences as this vital lifeline is cut.
“We’re at the brink of a new humanitarian crisis,” Muñoz said.
Trump’s return has been met with a range of reactions by Latin American nations connected to the U.S. through migration and trade.
Guatemala, which has over 750,000 citizens living unauthorized in the United States, announced in November that it was developing a strategy to deal with potential mass deportations.
Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum stated that Mexico is already expanding legal services in its consulates in the United States and that she would ask Trump to deport non-Mexicans directly to their home countries.
Honduras’ Deputy Foreign Minister García questioned Trump’s threat, citing the economic benefits immigrants bring to the US economy and the logistical challenges of mass deportation. According to aid leaders like Muñoz, Honduras is not adequately prepared for a potential surge in deportations.
García stated that even with Trump’s crackdown, it would be “impossible” to stop migration. Driven by poverty, violence, and the desire for a better life, groups of deportees board buses bound for the United States.
As deportations by both US and Mexican authorities increase, smugglers are offering migrants packages that include three attempts to make it north. If migrants are apprehended on their journey and returned home, they still have two chances to reach the United States.
Kimberly Orellana, 26, recently returned to Honduras, said she was detained in a Texas facility for three months before being returned to San Pedro Sula, where she waited in a bus station for her mother.
Nonetheless, she was already planning to return, claiming she had no choice because her 4-year-old daughter Marcelle was waiting for her, cared for by a friend in North Carolina.
Smugglers separated the two as they crossed the Rio Grande, hoping to increase their chances of crossing successfully. Orellana promised her daughter that they would be reunited.
“Mami, are you sure you’re coming?” Marcelle asks her on the phone.
“Now that I’m here, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep that promise,” Orellana said, clutching her Honduran passport. “I need to try again…” “My daughter is all I have.”
