Deportees struggle to rebuild lives in Honduras amid threats of increased mass deportations

As dozens of deported migrants gather in a sweltering facility at the airport in San Pedro Sula, Honduras, Norma clutches a foam cup of coffee and a small plate of eggs the only comfort awaiting her upon her return. The 69-year-old mother, who had fled the country after receiving death threats from gang members, spent her life savings attempting to seek asylum in the U.S., only to be deported alongside her daughter and granddaughter. Now back in Honduras, she faces the same dangers that drove her to flee.

“They can find us anywhere in Honduras,” Norma said, praying for safety while lamenting the lack of support from her government. With U.S. President-elect Donald Trump promising to ramp up mass deportations, countries like Honduras, Guatemala, and El Salvador are bracing for a potential influx of vulnerable migrants, a crisis they are ill-equipped to manage.

A Nation Underprepared for Returning Migrants

Honduras has already received nearly half a million deportees since 2015, many of whom are released into communities plagued by gang violence and economic instability. Deputy Foreign Minister Antonio García acknowledged the limited resources available to support deportees, stating, “There’s very little here for deportees. They are the last to be taken care of.”

Experts warn that the Trump administration may prioritize deporting vulnerable migrants with no criminal records from Central America, exacerbating the region’s existing challenges. Many returnees, burdened by debts from their migration journeys, find themselves unable to secure jobs or rebuild their lives.

Stories of Struggle and Desperation

Larissa Martínez, a single mother deported in 2021, has spent three years trying to support her children while paying off the $5,000 she borrowed to reach the U.S. She now sells meat and cheese from a makeshift home in San Pedro Sula, but her income is insufficient. Facing relentless poverty, Martínez contemplates migrating again. “If I don’t find work in December, I’ll leave in January,” she said.

Similarly, 26-year-old Kimberly Orellana, deported after three months in a U.S. detention center, is determined to reunite with her 4-year-old daughter, who remains in North Carolina. “My daughter is all I have,” she said, clinging to the hope of crossing the border again despite the risks.

Looming Humanitarian and Economic Crises

Aid organizations warn that an increase in deportations will overwhelm their already strained resources. César Muñoz, a leader of a migrant aid group, noted that three deportation flights arrive weekly, leaving little capacity to support returnees. Additionally, with remittances from migrants forming a critical part of the Honduran economy, a surge in deportations could destabilize the country further.

Despite these challenges, many migrants are determined to try again. Smugglers are reportedly offering packages that include multiple attempts to cross the border, a grim reminder of the desperation driving migration.

Deputy Minister García acknowledged the resilience of these migrants, stating that even with stricter enforcement, “it would be impossible to stop people from migrating.” For many, the risks of staying in Honduras far outweigh the dangers of attempting the journey north once more.