WASHINGTON, D.C. — Abdoulaye Thiaw fled Mauritania in northwest Africa 22 years ago, when the government was stepping up persecution of Black Mauritians and arresting many who, like Thiaw, had joined Black human rights groups.

Thiaw settled in Columbus, Ohio, began working as a mechanic and applied for asylum.

What You Need To Know

  • His asylum claim was denied in 2007, a ruling he and advocate group Ohio Immigrant Alliance said was flawed because he had no translator and could not adequately explain his situation

  • But U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) used its prosecutorial discretion to grant him an “order of supervision,” which allowed him to stay in the U.S. and work legally

  • Then in 2018, the Trump administration changed its use of prosecutorial discretion to enforce deportations for those who had been denied asylum

His asylum claim was denied in 2007, a ruling he and advocate group Ohio Immigrant Alliance said was flawed because he had no translator and could not adequately explain his situation.

But U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) used its prosecutorial discretion to grant him an “order of supervision,” which allowed him to stay in the U.S. and work legally, as long as he reported for regular check-ins and did not break the law.

Then in 2018, the Trump administration changed its use of prosecutorial discretion to enforce deportations for those who had been denied asylum, regardless of how long they had been legally in the country. Thiaw learned that his order of supervision would not be renewed when he went in for an ICE check-in in June.

“I remember one day I went to my appointment and the ICE guy told me, ‘You have to leave the country,’” Thiaw said.

Thiaw said he was detained for three months in several prisons before being deported back to Mauritania in September of 2018. Still afraid how he would be treated there, Thiaw, his wife and three kids moved south to Senegal, where they have no extended family or friends. Thiaw has since been unable to find steady work. Instead, the family lives on subsistence farming on a communal plot of land.

“The village has some collective land,” he said. “You get just a little bit to plant some rice or tomatoes. Just to survive.”

Thiaw’s story is not unique. As many of 1.2 million immigrants who have “final orders of removal,” but remain in the United States either through official executive discretion or because immigration officials do not know their location, according to the American Immigration Council. Thousands get deported each year.

Members of the Ohio Immigrant Alliance visited Capitol Hill recently to share stories like Thiaw’s and call for deportation reforms to keep families united.

“People who lived in the country for 20, 30 years and built their lives here are saying, please just give us a chance,” said Lynn Tramonte, Ohio Immigrant Alliance’s director.

Thiaw said he hoped the reforms would come soon: “One day, God willing, maybe they're going to find a way, the right way to go back to the United States.”

President Joe Biden announced this week that spouses of U.S. citizens without legal status will soon be able to apply for permanent residency and eventually, citizenship. The action could affect more than half a million immigrants.