Beneficiary Spotlight: Refugees from the Americas

by Brigid Rowlings, LHI Communications Director

Images from shelters on the southern border of the United States that LHI supports.

Refugees crossing the southern border of the United States has long been a prominent issue in the American media. It has gained more attention recently as the number of asylum seekers and refugees arriving in the United States has increased, and as officials grapple with repealing the Covid-era Title 42, which has allowed the U.S. government to quickly turn refugees back to prevent the spread of Covid 19.

While differences of opinion about immigration are real, and conversations about immigration vital, the facts remain: People are being forced to flee their homes. They come with very little. When they arrive, conditions for refugees on both sides of the border are harsh. Many of those hoping to enter the United States wait along the border in makeshift encampments with little access to food, water, and sanitation. Once refugees and asylum seekers arrive in the United States, border shelters and charitable organizations are able to offer some assistance, but the sheer number of arrivals puts a strain on their resources.

Why do refugees from countries like El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Haiti, Nicaragua, and Venezuela risk such danger and hardship? The answer can only be that conditions in their home countries are so bad that anything else seems better.

What is compelling people to leave their home countries? We could write extensive pieces on countries like El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, Haiti, and Nicaragua. And, in fact we did publish an entire blog post on the factors pushing people to leave Venezuela. But, to give you an overview of the major issues, we will confine ourselves to outlining the major issues and providing you with just a few specific examples.

Political Instability and Oppressive Regimes

Many people seeking asylum in the United States are fleeing oppressive governments. For example, since 2007, Nicaraguan president Daniel Ortega has ruled the country with an increasingly authoritarian hand. Freedoms of individual people and the press have become more and more limited, and Ortega has even jailed his political opponents. 

As we detailed in an earlier blog post, Venezuela president Nicolas Maduro ensured his own re-election by barring opponents from running. Since then, Venezuelans report continued persecution of those who oppose Maduro, including protestors. 

The political situation is arguably worse in Haiti. The 2021 assassination of President Jovenel Moïse created a power vacuum that has paved the way for gangs. 

Eduardo shows some of the scars that remain after he was attacked by local gang members with machetes for not agreeing to sell drugs through his family’s fruit stand in Honduras. Photo provided by Their Story is Our Story.

Gang Violence

In the absence of any strong central government in Haiti, around 200 gangs have established influence across Haiti, including controlling an estimated 60% of Haiti’s capital, Port-au-Prince. These gangs have committed acts of physical and sexual violence. They have forced people out of their homes and blocked access to safe drinking water, food and health care. 

Gang violence is also endemic in places like El Salvador and Honduras. In 2019, in partnership with Their Story Is Our Story, we told you about Eduardo, who was attacked by gang members after he refused to sell drugs from his family’s fruit stand in Honduras. Fleeing often seems like the only option for people like Eduardo who are threatened, attacked, and even killed if they refuse to pay, join, or do the bidding of local gangs.

Economic Instability

Unsurprisingly, in places where governments are not stable, neither are economies. In Nicaragua and Venezuela, inflation, declining wages, and rampant unemployment have left people unable to support themselves and their families. Essentials like food, clothing, and medication are often in short supply.

An estimated 60% of Guatemalans live in poverty. This is partly due to a decade of “land grabs”. Small farmers in Guatemala have been driven off their land by more powerful people who want to develop their land into larger, industrial farms. Indigenous Mayan people living in the Guatemalan highlands have been particularly susceptible to these government-sanctioned “land grabs”. When targeted communities protest the seizure of their ancestral lands, leaders can be arrested or assassinated. 

Natural Disasters

Farmers in Guatemala have not only suffered from land grabs, but also from droughts, floods, hurricanes and cold snaps. Guatemala is not alone. According to this Washington Post article, Latin America and the Caribbean experienced 175 natural disasters between 2020 and 2022. These events have led to loss of life, damage to housing and infrastructure, crop damage and food shortages, and lack of access to clean water.

Pallets of aid on their way from the LHI Aid Warehouse in Utah to Team Brownsville in Texas.

How LHI Helps

LHI works in partnership with several shelters in places like Texas and Arizona to provide aid to refugees and asylum seekers. One partner, Team Brownsville, told us in December: “We are receiving up to 600 people every day and the need is so great…Our greatest need is for blankets,warm clothing and shoes. We quickly and gratefully gave out all the jackets, hoodies, winter kits, socks, underwear and shoes that you sent. We tried to hold back some for when it got even colder, but as the numbers grew, that became impossible.” Thanks to our donors and volunteers at the LHI Aid Warehouse in Utah, we were able to send more aid to Team Brownsville.

To learn more about LHI’s Border Aid program, click here.

American Soldiers Meant Freedom to Me

Contributor: Twila Bird, TSOS
Photographer: Kristi Burton, TSOS

This is another installment from our partnership with Their Story is Our Story. Back by popular demand, it’s Marta! The more we get to know her, the more amazing her life story becomes...

Marta served for years overseas, including time in Iraq, fulfilling her childhood dream of becoming an American soldier.

Since I was a little girl in Honduras, I’ve always admired the U.S. military. Where I was born, there was a U.S. military base. We got hit a lot with hurricanes and natural disasters, and American soldiers were the first ones to respond with humanitarian aid. They were heroes to me. I would just stare at them and think, “Wow, what does it feel like to be part of the greatest army in the world?”

Then I got pregnant at the age of 13. And pregnant again at 17. And I was like, “This is not what I want.” I was always looking at the U.S.; for me it meant freedom. And I was like, “I’m leaving.” So, I grabbed my three-year-old daughter and with my six-month-pregnant belly we started for the U.S. My goal was Arizona. I had an older sister there who was a U.S. citizen. It took us about 10 days to get from Honduras to the American border by bus, lots of little buses.

When we came to the border in Nogales, there was a tunnel. They told me to just go in this tunnel, walk a little way, and there’s the U.S. It wasn’t a secret. There were some metal bars. That’s how people got in — they cut the metal bars. They told me I would see holes in the wall and on the third hole, that was the U.S. So, with my daughter, we went through the tunnel. It was really, really dark. I remember it was wet and filthy. Now that I think back, I believe it was like a drain.

When we got to the place where the U.S. was, my daughter climbed up and the man who was helping me pushed me from behind through the hole while I held onto my daughter above and because of my pregnant belly, I was stuck. [Laughing] I was like half in the U.S. and half in Mexico, but I finally made it through. I looked up and there was a MacDonald’s. And that’s when I was caught by border patrol. It was like, “Hello, I’m here!”

When they processed me in Tuscon, they asked me why I wanted to come here, and I said, “I came because I want to join the United States Army.” They thought it was a joke then, when they realized it wasn’t, they told me I’d have to get a green card first, which would take 15–20 years. And they were not kidding. It took many years. I arrived in 1992 and got my green card in July 2008. A month later, I was in basic training in the United States Army. I served for almost 10 years, part of that time in Iraq.

It all went back to my childhood experience. I wanted to be like the American soldiers I saw who arrived and saved the day and represented freedom. To me, Americans were so nice, so giving and compassionate; that’s the idea that I had. And that’s why today I help give humanitarian aid to other Central Americans who are trying to achieve what I have.

We Love What We Do

Contributor: Twila Bird, TSOS
Photographer: Kristi Burton, TSOS

We’re back with a new story from our partnership with Their Story is Our Story, once again featuring Israel and Marta!

Israel pours lemonade for Megan Carson, from Their Story Is Our Story, when she interviewed him at his Arizona home.

Israel, from Mexico, and Marta, his wife from Honduras, are productive members of their community and committed volunteers in helping those who are following in their footsteps.

Israel: I walked 100 miles alone through the Sonoran Desert to get to the U.S. when I was 18 years old. It took me over a week. I didn’t see anyone during that time. After three days, my water ran out. I came across water tanks for animals but the water was green so I used my shirt as a filter. Also, sometimes at the bottom of the hills, the sand is dry but if you start digging and wait a minute, water will come out. I came to join my four brothers who have a cabinet making business in Phoenix. I began working with them. Our family is from Morelos, Mexico.

Israel and Marta began helping Central American asylum seekers last fall when families began coming in greater numbers to the United States. Since then, they’ve hosted over 500 people in their home. Once, they harbored a group of over 50 at one time. Marta explained how they managed to transport and offer amenities to so many at once.

Marta: That day, we went to the bus station around 3 p.m. and got the ladies with their kids. Late that night, Israel said, “Let’s go check on the men and see if another organization picked them up.” So we went around 11 p.m. and they were still there. A few of the men came over and started saying, “Please, help me. Give me just a little corner in your house.” And Israel said, “Okay, I’m going to take you.” But then they all were coming. And I said, “What do we do?” And he said, “I don’t know, but I cannot leave anyone.” And then I said, “Okay.” And he said, “We’re going to take everyone.” And he put 25 people in his truck — 25 people in his truck! I was inside and we had like 10 kids inside the cab and we put about 15 dads in the back.

Marta: The police were following us and I’m like, “We’re done. We’re done. They’re calling the helicopters. You know we look like human traffickers.” [Laughing] “We are done!” And one of the dads, he said, “No we just have to pray.” And I said, “Do you know how to pray?” He said something like, “Yes, we just call for the blood of Jesus to cover us and to blind the police officers’ eyes.” I said, “Okay, do that.” [Laughing] So he did it. And I think we were followed for about 2 or 3 miles but nothing happened. When we got home, the ladies started hugging and saying, “Oh my God! We’ve been praying for you guys. That somebody would help you.”

Israel: To get everyone cleaned up, we have this enclosed trailer out back that we use to transport the cabinets. We got a big plastic container and we put water in it. We set up a fire and then we got a pot like where we cook tamales. I had the men use the pot to heat the water for the ladies. And then we put the container in the trailer and had them go in one by one. That’s how they took showers with warm water—it was winter time.

Marta: Gather them up and bring them. We are capable. And when I say “we,” I’m saying the community. A lot of non-profit organizations. You know we are ready. We are ready to provide them with a shower and clothing, food, you know, whatever they need. We are ready. We are not tired and we will continue doing it. We love what we do.

Eduardo: Hope is Strong

The second story form our partnership with Their Story is Our Story follows Eduardo as he escapes with his family from gang violence and death threats in Honduras.

“…I heard them looking and shouting, ‘He’s here, find him, find him!’ and using bad words, and they had pistols and machetes to kill me...”

Eduardo: I am from Honduras. It was a quiet day at my house. We lived peacefully. I had a business. I worked at my family’s fruit stand. I would say it was going well. Gang members told me they wanted me to sell drugs in the middle of my fruit. I said, “No.” Then they said they would kill me, my family, and my children if I didn’t do it. Again I said, “No.” Then one night 7 or 8 of them followed me with machetes and pistols. They followed me to kill me but thanks be to God they didn’t get me. I ran and ran and hid in a sewer. I got down into a sewer. Out of fear I got in. I heard them looking and shouting, “He’s here, find him, find him!” and using bad words, and they had pistols and machetes to kill me. They went to the house to find my wife and two children but they didn’t find them because they were with my mother.

Later they came and found me and did damage. [Eduardo pulled up his shirt sleeves and pant legs to show multiple machete-wound scars.] They were going to kill me. They also had pistols. But thanks to God they didn’t kill me.   

Delinquency is very strong there. The gangs want to recruit you and sometimes when someone doesn’t want to, they kill them. I’m telling you, my group of [childhood] friends — [he used the term “camada,” which literally translates as litter] — there were 27 of us and now only three are left. All the others were killed, or are in jail, on drugs, or in gangs. From what I’ve seen we are only three with a life. The rest died from drugs and gangs and all that. And for that reason, I left my country.

So, then we came to Mexico. But it is the same in Mexico. I would say it is a plague. All of Central America has gangs, people who want to control others. In Mexico, I was a barber. I was working. And from Honduras they [gang members]came to Mexico and in Mexico they did all this [he pointed to his mouth with teeth missing]. They grabbed me. They hit me. I didn’t have peace or safety. I had planned to stay in Mexico but if they were going to get me there, there was nothing left but for me to come here.

I have a skill. I can cut hair. But I can’t work if I don’t have a license. Here you have to have a permit to work and to get it you have to struggle and risk oneself because sometimes the government believes you or doesn’t believe you. It is true there is a lot of delinquency in Honduras. I don’t dispute that. But just as there are bad people, there are also us humble people who like to work. We like to get ahead. I don’t want my children to suffer what I suffered. I want to get ahead, start a barbershop, start my business, and show the government they won’t be supporting me. If we can get the papers arranged, we will show the government what we can do. I had to work day and night I would work day and night so that my family is cared for. If my family is ok, then I’m ok.   

Because I’m not yet 21, I have a lot of future ahead and she — (pointing to Arianna, his wife)— is only 19. Despite the fact that we are very young parents, I would say this has given us a lot of maturity. We want our children to have a better future, to study, to learn, that they become great people. I have many dreams. She is one of my dreams (pointing to his daughter). She is eager. She says she wants to be a doctor or a lawyer. Wow! That is a lot of inspiration for me, to work, day by day. It gives me drive.  

Interviewer: Hope is strong.

Eduardo:  It’s the last thing you lose.

Soon after Eduardo arrived in America, he got a job at a barber shop but three days later, by tracking him with his ankle bracelet, ICE agents showed up and told the owner she would be prosecuted if she allowed him to continue working. Now he’s jobless and has no way to support his family.