Secrecy and controversy have come to define the United States’ recent wave of deportations to third-party African and Central American countries, a practice that has drawn sharp criticism from legal experts, human rights advocates, and the governments of the nations involved. In early August 2025, the U.S. deported seven migrants to Rwanda—a country that was not their homeland—without disclosing their names, origins, the charges against them, or even their current whereabouts. The administration only made the transfer public weeks later, on August 28, 2025, according to El País.
These deportations are not isolated. In July 2025, the U.S. sent additional migrants to South Sudan and Eswatini, again withholding details until well after the fact. Five men from Vietnam, Jamaica, Cuba, Yemen, and Laos were deported to Eswatini, where they remain in high-security isolation. Lawyers for these men allege that their clients are being denied legal representation and have no idea what crimes they are accused of. They also express grave concerns about the risk of torture and the fact that these men have been sent to countries with which they have no ties and whose languages they do not speak.
The U.S. Department of Homeland Security has justified these actions by stating that deportations to third countries allow the U.S. to expel people “who are so uniquely barbaric that their own countries won’t take them back.” But this claim is hotly disputed by attorneys and foreign officials. Tin Thanh Nguyen, who represents two Southeast Asian migrants deported to Eswatini, told The New York Times, “It remains unclear whether the Trump administration even attempted to repatriate them... Neither the Vietnamese nor Laotian governments have publicly declined repatriation, and neither has had direct access to these men. My clients wish to return to their home countries.”
Eswatini, a small southern African nation ruled by King Mswati III since 1986, is notorious for its harsh suppression of dissent. Human rights lawyers there have sued local authorities, alleging that the deported men are being held in a maximum-security prison without access to legal counsel. The African government has said the men would remain in isolation until their repatriation, a process that could drag on for up to a year.
One of those deported, Orville Etoria, a 62-year-old Jamaican, had served a sentence for murder committed in New York in 1996. After his release in 2021, he lived in New York under supervision and complied with all immigration requirements. Despite having legal permanent residence and no new charges, Etoria was deported to Eswatini—a country with which he had no connection. His attorney, Mia Unger, said, “Before his shocking deportation, Mr. Etoria had been living in New York, following the law and reporting regularly to ICE under an order of supervision. When ICE asked him to obtain a Jamaican passport earlier this year, he complied. But instead of removing him to Jamaica, as his documentation clearly allowed and as common sense would dictate, the U.S. government inexplicably and illegally sent him to Eswatini.” Jamaican officials have also disputed the U.S. claim that Jamaica was unwilling to accept Etoria, with Joan Thomas Edwards, Jamaica’s top diplomat in southern Africa, stating, “Our position is that we do not refuse any of our nationals, regardless of whatever they have done.”
The Trump administration has negotiated secret agreements with multiple countries to accept deportees from other nations, with El País reporting that Eswatini agreed to accept over 150 people in exchange for more than $10 million. Rwanda has agreed to take up to 250 migrants. The details of these deals remain undisclosed, fueling further suspicion and concern. Alma David, attorney for two men from Yemen and Cuba, said, “My two clients have been imprisoned in Eswatini, at U.S. taxpayer expense, for over six weeks. No one has told them why they are being detained, and no lawyer has been permitted to visit them.”
In a parallel case, over 250 Venezuelan migrants were deported from the U.S. to El Salvador in March 2025 under the 1798 Alien Enemies Act, based on unsubstantiated allegations of gang membership. The men were detained in El Salvador’s notorious CECOT prison, where, according to testimonies presented by Venezuelan Attorney General Tarek William Saab at a July 21, 2025 press conference, they suffered systematic torture, beatings, sexual abuse, and medical neglect. One unnamed migrant described being beaten for “showering, speaking, or asking for water.” Another recounted being coerced into lying to Red Cross visitors, saying, “They forced me to say I fell off a bunk bed,” to explain a wound.
Maiker Espinoza Escalona, a 25-year-old Venezuelan who arrived in Texas in May 2024 with his partner and infant daughter, was profiled as a gang member based on tattoos and deported to CECOT. He called the prison “unfit to hold human beings,” describing a stench of feces that made detainees sick and “torture in an abrupt and inhumane manner.” Espinoza was finally reunited with his family in Venezuela in July 2025 after a negotiated repatriation involving 252 Venezuelan migrants in exchange for 10 U.S. nationals and 80 Venezuelans jailed in the Caribbean.
Other testimonies revealed further abuses. Makeup artist and actor Andry José Hernández Romero reported “physical and psychological aggression” and sexual assault by guards. Eude José Torres Herrera described being punched in the face, dislocating his jaw, while Rodolfo Mayor said, “They beat me so badly that I urinated blood for a week and fractured a rib.” Mayor also recounted having a molar removed with pliers and being shot in the chest with a pellet gun.
Families and lawyers of the deportees were kept in the dark, unable to contact their loved ones until their release. Venezuelan authorities have since announced investigations into El Salvador’s President Nayib Bukele, Justice Minister Gustavo Villatoro, and Head of Prisons Osiris Luna Meza for alleged human rights violations. The CECOT mega-prison, built in 2023 as part of Bukele’s crackdown on gangs, has faced widespread condemnation for inhumane incarceration conditions and violations of due process.
Legal experts argue that the U.S. government is using deportations to countries with poor human rights records as a punitive measure, hoping to scare migrants into self-deporting to their home countries rather than risk detention in places like El Salvador or Eswatini. Trina Realmuto, an attorney with the National Immigration Litigation Alliance, said, “It’s absolutely punitive. What the government is doing is using deportations to African and other countries as a punishment. They’re breaking the law by deporting them to places where it’s very difficult for them to return to their home country.”
Despite lower court rulings blocking some of these deportations on the grounds that detainees were not given a chance to state if they risked violence at their destination, the U.S. Supreme Court authorized the removals in June 2025. An internal U.S. immigration guide issued in July stated that migrants could be deported to countries without diplomatic assurances of their safety in as little as six hours. Critics say this is not enough time for proper legal review or to ensure the safety of those being deported.
As the U.S. continues to expand its network of secret deportation agreements, concerns over human rights, due process, and the opaque nature of these operations are only intensifying. The consequences for those caught in this web are stark—detention, isolation, abuse, and the ever-present fear of being forgotten in a foreign land.