Around the world, refugees are shut out of the US by Trump’s new policies

When President Donald Trump suspended the refugee program on the first day of his current term, thousands of people around the world who were so close to a new life in America found themselves abandoned.

Many had already sold their belongings or terminated their leases in preparation for their trip. They had submitted extensive documentation to support their arguments, had been interviewed by U.S. officials, and in many cases already had plane tickets to the United States.

As part of Trump’s crackdown on legal and illegal immigration, the Republican president upended the decades-old refugee aid program that served as a beacon for those fleeing war and persecution. In October, it resumed the program but set a historic low level of refugee admissions at just 7,500 – mostly white South Africans.

A litany of new restrictions were announced after an Afghan national became the suspect in the shooting of two National Guard members last week. The Trump administration also plans to reexamine refugees admitted under the Democratic Biden administration. The Trump administration has cited economic and national security concerns to justify its policy changes.

About 600,000 people were being processed to come to the United States as refugees around the world when the program was halted, according to the administration. Dozens of white South Africans have been admitted this year. But only about 100 others were admitted following a lawsuit filed by advocates seeking to revive the refugee program, said Mevlüde Akay Alp, a lawyer pursuing the cause.

“It’s important that we don’t abandon these families and we don’t abandon the thousands of people who were counting on the promise of coming here as refugees,” said Akay Alp of the International Refugee Assistance Project.

The Associated Press spoke with three families whose lives have been upended by the policy change.

The Dawoods had been waiting for years for the opportunity to come to the United States. After fleeing the civil war in Syria, they settled in northern Iraq. They hoped to find a home that could provide better medical care for their daughter who fell from the fourth floor of the family’s apartment building.

After being accepted as refugees in the United States, their son Ibrahim and his sister Ava moved to New Haven, Connecticut, in November 2024. His parents and one of his brothers were scheduled to fly out in January.

But just two days before their departure, mother Hayat Fatah fainted during a medical check and her departure was postponed. Mohammed, another sibling, did not want to leave his parents behind.

“I said, ‘That’s it. The luck is gone.’ But I had to stay with my father and mother,” Mohammed said.

Nearly a year later, he and his parents are still waiting. Without a residence permit, Mohammed cannot work or travel outside his home in the city of Erbil. The family survives on money sent by relatives abroad.

Mohammed had dreams for his new life in America: starting a business or finishing his studies to become a petroleum engineer; get married and start a family.

“Whether it’s now, a year from now, two years from now, or four years from now, I’ll wait and hope to go,” he said.

In the United States, Ibrahim often wakes up early to tutor online before heading to his job as a math teacher at a private school, then takes care of his sister when he gets home. He said his mother often cries when they talk because she wishes she was in America to help take care of her daughter.

Ibrahim said the welcome he received in the United States was a comfort. Volunteers stepped in to take him and his sister to frequent doctor’s appointments and helped them adjust to their new lives.

“I really appreciate the kindness of the people here,” he said.

Chinese Christian Lu Taizhi fled to Thailand more than a decade ago, fearing persecution for his beliefs. Since then, he has lived in legal limbo, awaiting resettlement in the United States.

Lu said he has long admired the United States for what he calls its Christian character — a place where he believes he and his family “can pursue freedom.” He said he was disappointed that people like him and his family who legally applied for refugee status faced so many difficulties getting to the United States.

“I oppose illegal immigration. Many are fake refugees or illegal immigrants, they have never faced oppression. I am opposed to that,” Lu said. “But I hope America can accept people like us, real refugees who have faced real oppression. … It’s really disappointing.”

Lu comes from a long line of dissidents: he was born into a family labeled “hostile elements” by the Chinese Communist Party because of its land ownership and ties to a rival political party. A teacher and poet, Lu became interested in Chinese state-banned history, writing tributes to the bloody 1989 Tiananmen crackdown on pro-democracy protests in Beijing.

In 2004, Lu was arrested after police found poems and essays he had secretly published criticizing Chinese politics and the education system. After his release, Lu became a Christian and began preaching, attracting the attention of local authorities. Year after year, officers knocked on his door, warning him not to organize demonstrations or post comments critical of the Party.

With Chinese leader Xi Jinping coming to power, controls have tightened. When Beijing arrested hundreds of human rights lawyers in 2015, Lu took his family and fled, fearing the police would come for him. After traveling through Southeast Asia, Lu and his family settled in Thailand, where they applied for refugee status with the United Nations.

Eight years later, the UN informed Lu that the United States had accepted his application. But their first flight, in April 2024, was postponed because Lu’s sons’ passports had expired. A second, scheduled for January 22, 2025, was canceled without explanation, and the most recent, scheduled for February 26, was canceled shortly after Trump’s inauguration. His candidacy has been suspended indefinitely, Lu said.

Today, Lu makes a meager living as a teacher and pastor in northern Thailand. He is separated from his wife and children in Bangkok, the Thai capital, but says he has no choice if he wants to earn money and support his family.

“I fully support all of Trump’s policies because I believe only President Trump can dismantle the CCP,” Lu said, using an acronym referring to the Chinese Communist Party. “So I have no complaints. I just wait in silence.”

Louis arrived in the United States as a refugee in September 2024. He left his wife and two children in East Africa, hoping they could soon be reunited in the United States.

But that dream faded a few months later with Trump’s return to the presidency.

Louis, who insisted on being identified only by his first name for fear that speaking publicly would complicate his case, was informed in January that his application to bring his family to the United States had been frozen due to changes in refugee policy.

Now family members live thousands of miles apart without knowing when they will be reunited. His wife, Apolina, and children aged 2 and 3 are in a refugee camp in Uganda. Louis is in Kentucky.

“I don’t want to lose her, and she doesn’t want to lose me,” said Louis, who resettled in Kentucky with the help of the International Rescue Committee. “The hope I had slowly dissipated. I thought we would never see each other again,” he said, referring to the moment he received the notice.

The families of Louis and Apolina applied for refugee status after fleeing war in the Democratic Republic of Congo.

Louis’ request, initiated by his parents, was approved, Apolina’s, filed separately by her parents, was not. They hoped that if Louis requested family reunification in the United States, it would facilitate the arrival of Apolina and her two children.

Apolina thought that as the wife of a refugee, it would take her no more than a year to reunite with her husband, who now works in an appliance factory and has already applied for permanent residency.

The separation has not been easy for her and for the children, who live in a tent in the refugee camp. The youngest, who was 7 months old when Louis left, cries every time he sees his father on a video call. The oldest keeps asking where Louis is and when he will see him.

Apolina fears that over time the children will forget their father.

“I feel very bad because I miss my husband a lot,” Apolina said in a telephone interview from Uganda. “I pray for him that God allows him to be patient until we see each other again.”

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Santana reported from Washington, Kang from Beijing and Solomon from Miami. Associated Press writers Evelyne Musambi in Nairobi, Kenya, and Salar Salim in Irbil, Iraq, contributed to this report.