Migrants who agreed to voluntarily leave the United States under a controversial government scheme say they were promised a $1,000 payment that never materialised, leaving them stranded and empty-handed in their home countries.
The programme, known as 'Project Homecoming', was launched in May by the Department of Homeland Security (DHS). It offered what it termed an "exit bonus" and a free flight to migrants who agreed to 'self-deport'. However, an investigation has found that numerous individuals who signed the paperwork have faced delayed, misdirected, or entirely absent payments.
Broken Promises and Empty Pockets
Germán Pineda, a 32-year-old Honduran man who had lived in the US for 14 years, was arrested by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) in June. After a month in detention, he says officials presented him with voluntary departure papers.
"They told me that I’d be flown free of charge to Honduras – and ICE would pay me $1,000," Pineda stated through an interpreter. He was warned that refusal would mean months more in detention, ending in deportation anyway. Desperate, he signed on 25 July.
Yet Pineda remained detained for two more months. When he finally arrived in Honduras, the wire transfer for his $1,000 had expired, having gone uncollected for over 30 days. "They deceived me," he said. "It’s a lie." He claims to have spoken with ten friends from various countries who signed similar paperwork and received nothing.
His experience is not isolated. Robin Meneses, 54, from Nicaragua, carries a photo of his signed form entitled "Salida Voluntaria," which describes the $1,000 bonus. Deported to Nicaragua, the money never arrived. "They tricked me into leaving," Meneses said.
A Programme Shrouded in Confusion
Guided by a Trump presidential proclamation, Project Homecoming repurposed $250 million originally intended for refugee resettlement to fund flights and exit bonuses. The DHS website and promotional materials suggested broad eligibility, even for those with final removal orders.
However, immigration lawyers report widespread confusion and non-payment. Jennifer Whitlock, senior policy counsel with the National Immigration Law Center, emphasised the risk for detained individuals. "Those are the people that I’m routinely hearing from immigration attorneys, 'Hey, my guy never got the $1,000,'" she said.
The problems extend beyond unpaid money. Migrants who apply via the 'CBP Home' app provide their location data to authorities, regardless of eligibility. Crucially, the programme does not ease the path for legal return; many, like Pineda, now face multi-year bans on re-entering the US.
Systemic Failures and Little Recourse
The investigation uncovered a pattern of administrative errors. Pedro Mena arrived in Colombia to find payment information for a stranger named 'Ana' in his designated email. Shanna Loulendo, deported to France after a dismissed charge, was simply never registered for the payment despite being eligible.
Migrants have little recourse. Emails to official addresses, including projecthomecoming@hq.dhs.gov, frequently go unanswered. An ICE supervisor suggested Loulendo's lawyer should have requested an "incentive voluntary departure" (IVD) order—a term her attorney, Osman Yasin, had never encountered. "This is crazy," Yasin said. "As far as I know, that is not something immigration judges order."
Payment records show wire transfers were handled by Soterex Financial Services LLC, a company formed just four days after Trump's proclamation. Soterex shares ties with Salus Worldwide Solutions, a firm that later received a $915 million federal contract related to the programme, now being contested in court.
For those like Germán Pineda, who eventually retrieved his payment after direct media intervention, the ordeal has been a harsh lesson. He plans to start a small mechanic business in Honduras, attempting to rebuild the life he left behind in the hope of a $1,000 promise that nearly vanished.
