Trump's U.S. migrant hunt spares no one from deportation

Franco Caraballo was arrested while at a US immigration center for an appointment. Shirly Guardado was detained while at work. Camila Munoz was taken into custody on her way home from her honeymoon.

US President Donald Trump's hunt for migrants to expel from the country is sparing no one. And while the government claims only criminals are being targeted, many of those in the crosshairs tell a different story.

At a checkpoint in Texas, immigration agents stopped an undocumented Mexican couple on their way to a Houston hospital for their 10-year-old daughter's cancer treatment.

The family was deported, separating the parents from their children, five of whom are US citizens, rights group Texas Civil Rights Project said.

"We had to decide between being separated from our children or being deported together," the children's mother told the rights group.

"Now we are in Mexico without access to the urgent medical care our daughter needs," she said, speaking on condition of anonymity.

According to the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency (ICE), the Trump administration detained 32,809 migrants in its first 50 days in office, almost half of whom were convicted criminals.

Last weekend it deported more than 200 to a prison in El Salvador, invoking the rarely used 1798 Alien Enemies Act and accusing most of the deportees of belonging to the Venezuela-based Tren de Aragua gang.

- Deported over tattoos -

Not all who were deported appear to be gang members, however.

Franco Caraballo, a 26-year-old Venezuelan barber who has been in asylum proceedings since 2023, went to an appointment at the ICE office in Dallas, Texas, in February.

AFP

Shirly Guardado entered the country undocumented a decade ago, but had begun the paperwork to get legal residency

He did not come out.

"I haven't done anything, I'm a good person," he told his wife Johanny Sanchez over the phone.

Caraballo told her that officers put him in a red uniform meant to identify migrants classified as "dangerous."

Lacking resources in his absence, she has had to sleep in her car.

"My lawyer spoke with ICE and they told him that Franco was deported (to El Salvador), that he had no criminal record but that they suspect he was a member of Tren de Aragua because of his tattoos," Johanny Sanchez said.

Caraballo, she said, has two tattoos: one of a clock showing his first daughter's birth time, and one of a rose.

Venezuelan Mervin Yamarte, 29, was recognized by family members in Dallas in a video released by Salvadoran President Nayib Bukele showing the arrival of deportees from the United States.

Arrested a week earlier, Yamarte worked as a mechanic and played soccer with jersey number 99. That number, his family said, was tattooed on his hand.

Jhon Chacin, a 35-year-old Venezuelan tattoo artist, formally surrendered upon his arrival at the border in October 2024, during former president Joe Biden's tenure.

He was detained because of his tattoos.

Now, the Trump administration has sent him to El Salvador, despite having presented no evidence against him, his sister Yuliana told AFP.

- 'In shock' -

Camila Munoz, a 26-year-old Peruvian, was stopped in February at an airport in Puerto Rico, a US territory, while returning to Wisconsin after her honeymoon.

Although her visa had expired, she had already initiated residency procedures. Munoz is being held in Louisiana, according to her husband Bradley Bartell, who voted for Trump.

"I'm still kind of in shock," he said.

"I wouldn't say I have any regrets (voting for Trump), I think the regrets are with the system," he added.

"I'd ask him to sort out the judicial system and fix the problem."

For immigration lawyer David Rozas, who is advising Bartell, the current crackdown is "the scariest" of his 21-year career.

He described migrants as "the backbone of this country," doing jobs no one else wants.

"People feel extremely betrayed," Rozas said. "And we are going to end up with a huge labor shortage unless something changes."

- 'By the book' -

Shirly Guardado, a 27-year-old Honduran, was at her job near Houston when immigration agents took her away.

"She's not a criminal. She's my wife. She's the mother of my son," said Ayssac Correa, 25, a sergeant in the US Army.

"She's always done everything by the book," he added. "She's always been a law-abiding citizen."

Guardado entered the country undocumented a decade ago, but had begun the paperwork to get legal residency.

In her absence, he has been caring for their 10-month-old son, who is "not sleeping as well" without his mother, Correa said.

He fears that his wife may be deported, and that securing her return could be a prolonged process.

"That's three to five years my son would not have his mom," he said.