In the southern Mexican city of Tapachula, a hub for migrants navigating their way toward the United States, uncertainty hangs heavy in the air. With the inauguration of Donald Trump as the next U.S. president just days away, migrants awaiting their asylum appointments grapple with a growing sense of anxiety about the future of their journeys.
Among them is Yusmelis Villalobos, a Venezuelan migrant who has secured a January 23 appointment with U.S. authorities. “We’re caught in a whirlwind of uncertainty,” Villalobos said, her voice laced with worry.
For others, like Dayana Hernandez, 36, the unease is palpable. “Trump’s reputation precedes him,” she remarked, reflecting on his previous term marked by strict immigration policies. “It’s hard to know if he’ll follow through on his promises, but his words carry weight.”
Many migrants, including Hernandez, have fled political and economic instability in their home countries, such as Venezuela. The recent inauguration of Nicolas Maduro for a controversial third term has added to the despair among Venezuelans seeking a way out of worsening conditions.
As Trump prepares to take office, he has vowed to implement a sweeping deportation plan that he claims will be the largest in American history. This declaration has sown fear among those waiting to cross the border legally through the CBP One mobile app, a platform introduced under President Joe Biden to streamline asylum requests and offer work permits during processing.
Migrants like Anais Rojas, traveling with her young son, hold onto fragile hope. Rojas has an appointment scheduled for January 23 but remains unsure if Trump’s administration will honor it. “It’s a blessing we got the appointment, but the future feels so uncertain,” she shared. Despite Trump’s hardline rhetoric, Rojas believes his presidency could potentially bolster the U.S. economy, indirectly benefiting migrants like her.
In Tapachula, frustration runs high among the crowds gathered near immigration offices. Mexican authorities struggle to manage the influx of asylum seekers, and for some, the wait becomes unbearable. Increasing numbers of migrants have opted to join caravans heading north, braving long journeys filled with hunger, exhaustion, and exposure to the elements.
Yet, the CBP One app, while offering a semblance of structure, does not guarantee a path forward. Even those who secure appointments face the possibility of rejection or deportation under shifting U.S. policies.
For many, the stakes are impossibly high. Hernandez, echoing the sentiments of countless others, pleaded for understanding: “We’re not all the same. Many of us simply want to work, build a life, and contribute.”
As the clock ticks toward January 20, migrants in Tapachula and beyond brace for a future fraught with unpredictability, their dreams tethered to the decisions of a new administration.
