Us deportation scheme leaves man trapped in eswatini prison
Pheap Rom, a Cambodian man deported from the United States after serving a decade for attempted murder, found himself not in his homeland but imprisoned in Eswatini – a nation he initially mistook for an American detention facility. His story exposes a troubling practice of outsourcing deportations to third countries, leaving individuals stranded in unfamiliar and often precarious circumstances.
A refugee's unexpected plight
Rom, who arrived in the US as a three-year-old refugee in 1985, accepted deportation to Cambodia following a 15-year sentence for four counts of attempted murder. He anticipated returning to a country he'd never known, but the reality proved far more disorienting. Instead of landing in Cambodia, he and nine other individuals – hailing from Cuba, Jamaica, Vietnam, and Yemen – were deposited in Eswatini, a small, landlocked nation bordered by South Africa and Mozambique. The initial confusion stemmed from Rom’s unfamiliarity with the country’s name; he reportedly thought it was another immigration detention center in Louisiana.
The group, labeled “dangerous criminals” by the US government, were immediately transferred to a maximum-security prison, a stark contrast to the promise of freedom conveyed by flight personnel. Rom describes the conditions as harsh, with limited access to basic necessities – just a roll of toilet paper and a bar of soap per week in the early days. One detainee, overwhelmed by the situation, initiated a 30-day hunger strike.
The third-country deportation network
Rom’s experience highlights a growing trend: the US government's reliance on third-country agreements to deport individuals who are not citizens and cannot be repatriated directly. Under the Trump administration, dozens have been sent to countries like the Democratic Republic of Congo, Equatorial Guinea, Ghana, Rwanda, South Sudan, and Uganda. Eswatini has received over $5 million from the US to accept up to 160 deportees, a sum that raises questions about the human cost of such agreements.
“Even if you were a convicted felon, at the end of the day we still deserve due process,” Rom asserted, emphasizing the fundamental right to be deported to the designated country. He recounts being told, bluntly, to “pack your shit and get the fuck out,” after learning of his transfer to Eswatini, with no opportunity to consult a lawyer or formally object.
Human rights concerns and a silent system
The lack of legal recourse and the sudden displacement to a foreign prison have taken a toll on the detainees’ mental health. Rom’s account underscores the vulnerability of individuals caught within this complex deportationsystem, particularly those with concerns about human rights conditions in their countries of origin. The US Department of Homeland Security has yet to comment on the specific circumstances of Rom’s case, reflecting a broader silence surrounding the implications of these third-country deportations.
Orville Etoria, a fellow deportee from Jamaica, was returned to his home country six months before Rom. Both the Jamaican and Cambodian governments had previously indicated their willingness to accept their nationals directly from the US. However, the continued flow of deportees to Eswatini, including citizens from Tanzania, Sudan, and Somalia, suggests that this practice is far from over. The Eswatini government insists it is upholding human rights, but the accounts of detainees like Rom paint a different picture—one of disorientation, deprivation, and a profound sense of injustice.
Rom's story serves as a chilling reminder: the pursuit of immigration enforcement should not come at the expense of due process and basic human dignity. The long-term consequences of these outsourced deportations, and the suffering they inflict, remain largely unacknowledged.