When Daniel Oquendo, 33, crossed the border between Mexico and the United States on January 20, he carried with him more than just a backpack with a few belongings. He also carried the hope for a better future, the promise of a fresh start, and the weight of his family’s expectations, who sacrificed financially to help him get there. He knew the journey wouldn’t be easy, but he never imagined it would end so abruptly – and even less that he would become involved in a diplomatic dispute between two countries.
Oquendo was one of about 200 Colombians recently deported after a political crisis between the governments of Joe Biden and Gustavo Petro. The case gained attention when the Colombian government refused to allow American military flights carrying the deportees to land, leading to a standoff that lasted days and heightened tensions between Washington and Bogotá. While the two governments clashed, the migrants were left in a kind of limbo, with no information on what would happen to them.
“Nobody told us anything. First, the U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) agents simply took us out of the cells in San Diego and put us on a C-130 military plane. We couldn’t ask questions; we had no idea where we were going. They told us the flight to Bogotá would take seven hours, but after ten hours in the air, when the back door of the plane opened, we saw an ambulance with the word ‘Houston’ written on it. It was a shock,” Oquendo said, still trying to understand what had happened.
Gustavo Petro’s decision to block the landing of the planes carrying the deportees was not just a political gesture but a message to the Biden administration about the treatment of Colombian immigrants. The move triggered an immediate reaction from Washington, which threatened trade sanctions if Bogotá continued to refuse to accept its own citizens. The pressure mounted until, in the end, the Colombian government relented, allowing the deportees’ repatriation – but under its own conditions.
While the military flights were blocked, Oquendo and the other deportees spent the night at a detention center in El Paso, Texas, where their handcuffs were finally removed. The next morning, Colombian consulate officials arrived to interview them, a necessary step to verify their identity before formal deportation. “It was a relief to at least see someone from our own country, but we still didn’t know anything about what was going on behind the scenes. Everything was done without explanation, without transparency,” Oquendo added.
On Tuesday (28), a plane chartered by the Colombian government finally took the deportees back to Colombia. The flight was promoted as a more dignified and respectful means of transportation, in contrast to the U.S. military planes. However, for many of the deportees, the trauma they had endured until then had left deep marks.
Oquendo does not hesitate to criticize the Colombian government’s stance. “It was an unnecessary spectacle. Petro wanted to create a standoff, but in the end, he had to accept the deportations anyway. So why all of this? It was all in vain,” he vented.
But not all the deportees share this view. For Andrei Barrientos, 36, another Colombian deported in the same group, the Colombian government’s action was necessary and brought a minimum of dignity to the process. “We have to thank the president for the good treatment we received. We were still in El Paso when the Colombian officials arrived to interview us. Then, when we boarded the chartered flight, the officials were friendly, smiled at us, and said, ‘Welcome to Colombia!’ That made all the difference after everything we went through.”
What surprised Barrientos and other deportees the most was that, until then, none of them had known about the diplomatic standoff that occurred while they were in U.S. custody. “I only understood everything when I arrived in Bogotá and was surrounded by journalists asking what had happened. I knew nothing! In the CBP detention centers, there are televisions, but they only show sports and old movies. We didn’t even have access to phones to talk to our families. It was only afterward that I realized we had become news,” he said.
Despite the differing perceptions of the episode, there is one point on which all the deportees agree: the experience of being transported in a military plane handcuffed was humiliating. Although it is standard procedure in U.S. deportation operations, Oquendo and Barrientos claim that the way they were treated was unnecessarily degrading. “They handcuffed us and shoved us as if we were criminals. I understand that the military has protocols, but there were children, whole families there. This didn’t need to happen this way,” Oquendo lamented.
According to the Colombian Migration Institute, among the deported were 77 women and 16 minors, a statistic that underscores the severity of the situation.
For many of the repatriated immigrants, returning to Colombia represents the end of a dream – but also the beginning of a new uncertainty. Barrientos, who had previously tried to enter the U.S. and was deported, said he will not attempt a third time. “Enough is enough. Now I’ll try to start over in Medellín. I know it will be difficult, but I don’t want to go through this again.”
Oquendo, on the other hand, does not rule out the possibility of trying again. “My family bet everything on me. I can’t disappoint them. Now I’m in Bogotá and have a place to stay for now, but there’s no work here. I need to keep trying elsewhere.”
Oquendo and Barrientos’ story reflects the dilemma of thousands of Colombians who attempt the crossing every year. According to official data, the United States deported over 100 flights full of Colombian migrants in 2024 alone, a number that reflects the growing migration crisis in Latin America.
While Washington tightens its deportation policies and Bogotá seeks to balance its diplomatic stance, the reality is that, for those sent back, the real challenge starts now. Many left everything behind in hopes of a better future and now need to rebuild their lives from scratch – in a country where opportunities are scarce and uncertainty prevails.
