A Haitian migrant details how his friends helped him secretly leave Haiti and make his way to Tijuana.
Feeling stifled at home in Haiti, Samuel secretly left, first for the Dominican Republic, then Brazil. He then aimed for the US but has gotten stuck in Tijuana, unable to cross. Though his friends helped him navigate his journey, he needs more than money to cross the final border. To make ends meet, he works overtime but still can’t support his family the way he would like. “I still feel that my journey isn’t complete because I haven’t reached my destination. I want to go to the United States because it’s a powerful country where I can go and be able to help my family. And life there is much more secure.”
My name is Samuel, and I’ve been living in Tijuana since January 2017.
Back in Haiti, I never finished school. My parents couldn’t pay for me to continue studying, and my older siblings had their own children, so they couldn’t help me either. I imagined what my friends would say when they heard that I could no longer afford school. I had really loved being in school, and it humiliated me to think I could no longer go.
When I finally decided to leave for the Dominican Republic, it was in the dead of night. I waited until everyone was asleep and no one even realized I was gone. I left behind my mom and pregnant girlfriend.
I left for the Dominican Republic in 2011, and to make the journey, I borrowed $85 from a friend. I paid a $4 motorcycle to get to Cap-Haitian, then paid around $5 to get from there to Dajabon, a city that borders the Dominican Republic. There I talked to a smuggler who asked me for $32, but I negotiated him down to $21 to help me cross the border. We crossed the river on a raft, and when we got to the other side, the police got us and told us we could get deported. Luckily, I spoke Spanish and was able to talk my way out of it. Eventually, a friend working in San Cristobal sent me a money transfer to join him and got me a job out in the country picking coffee beans. When I got to where he lived, I realized it was not a good living situation. He lived near the forest where there was no electricity, and it was very cold. You could even hear animals at night! I was paid $67 a month for that job.
Soon, another friend called me and told me about a job on a chicken farm in another town and asked me to come work with him. When I thought about myself, a man who had hopes of finishing school, going to work on a chicken farm, I didn’t want to do it. But I needed the money. I got paid $137 a month, and the job allowed me to save and send $39 a month back to my mother and girlfriend.
Eventually, I left that job and went to work in a city called Mendoza at another company. When we got there, the company rented us a beautiful house that was shared between 8 or 9 other workers. When other Haitians heard how we were living, they also came and joined us. This boss gave us a contract that outlined how much we would be getting paid: $39 a month. After nine months at that job, I learned my brother and a close friend had gone to Brazil.
At that point, I had been living in the Dominican Republic for three years, but I knew I had to get to Brazil. I calculated the amount of money I was making at the time and how much my boss owed me. If I left the job, I knew I could ask for my pay, and that’s exactly what I did. My boss was shocked when I told him I was leaving, but the pay ended up being the amount I needed to leave: $335. My cousin also lent me $347 because I had lent him money to go to Brazil himself. I was so happy when I got that money!
When other friends heard I was going to Brazil, they also sent me sums of money, and I was able to start my journey. To get there, I took a plane to Guayaquil, Ecuador, then paid for a taxi to Tumbes, Peru. I spent $120 to $150 to get through Peru to Brazil and ended up in Rio de Janeiro. There, I went to a shelter and was able to get a job that paid $266 a month and stayed there for a year.
I started hearing rumors that there was an opportunity to get into the United States through Mexico. At that point, I had no one supporting me in Brazil. I had also learned that my child was being threatened and was not in a good living situation back in Haiti. So, I decided to try to get to the United States. From Brazil, we stopped in Peru for one day, then went to Ecuador, Colombia, then Panama. In every country, immigration would give us papers that allowed us to travel for twenty days in that country.
In Panama, as we climbed the mountains, we found dead people along the trail. It was terrible! Even if someone offered me two million dollars to take that trail again, I would never do it.” Samuel is referring to the Darién Gap, a stretch of rainforest that is roughly the size of Massachusetts. “When we left Panama to go to Costa Rica, we crossed the border and had to fill out a list at immigration to show where we came from and where we were going. At that time, a lot of Haitians were going by Congolese names. I felt like going by a Congolese name but decided not to.” Samuel explained that he had heard immigration authorities would favor Africans over Haitians, but sometimes the reverse was true: Haitians might be favored over Africans.
There were people who told me off and said that I shouldn’t have said I was Haitian because I would be sent back to Haiti. When we got through immigration, we paid $30 for a bus to take us to the northern border.” The border with Nicaragua had been closed since 2016. “It was very hard to cross there because if you did, the police always sent you back. You must negotiate with the police and smugglers in order to pass. This was the hardest part of the challenge because people paid all kinds of money to get across. I had a cousin of mine who paid $2,000 just to cross. Some people paid $900. I thought to myself, ‘Wow! I don’t have that kind of money, how am I going to find it?’ I heard there were people trying to cross by boat instead, but I would have to pay $400. I didn’t have the money, so I called a friend in Brazil. I explained my situation to him, and he sent the money. That’s how I was able to pay for the journey from Costa Rica to Nicaragua by sea. It took three hours on a little boat. This was the first time I really understood what an ocean was. When I was in it, I had no idea what I was doing. When we got out, we took a truck and then walked on foot. That was paid for with the same $400 I gave to the smugglers. They were all organized and calling each other, getting us through the routes of Nicaragua so that we could get to the Honduran border. When we finally got there, I clapped my hands and thanked God.
When we got to immigration in Honduras, they gave us passes, and the Red Cross station there gave us some medical attention. While there, I had one friend send me $30 to $40. I’m someone who hates to ask for money. My friends knew how tough the road was, though, and they chose to help me. We left Honduras, went to Guatemala, and finally got to the Mexican border. When we got there, I paid $5 to cross a small river by raft. Then we paid $2 for a car and finally arrived at immigration in Tapachula. They gave us a 20-day pass. Things are different now, but when I came in late December 2017, I got my pass the same day I arrived. Then, I bought a bus ticket for $94 and spent four days on the road before arriving in Tijuana.
When I arrived in Tijuana, I had no idea where I was going. I didn’t know anyone at all. I had about $10 left in my pocket. I had traveled on a bus with a family that didn’t have a place to stay, so I suggested we put our money together to book a hotel. We paid that $10 to stay in the hotel overnight, but when we got up in the morning, we had no idea what to do. We all decided to split up, and when I left the hotel, I ran into an immigration officer asking for a Haitian who spoke Spanish. I said I did and asked the officials where they planned on going. They said they were looking for migrants to take to a shelter. They said they only wanted to take the pregnant women to the shelter and no men. I cried to them that I had nowhere else to go, and as they were leaving, I climbed into the truck with the women and children. We drove 7.8 miles and arrived at a Catholic school. I stayed there for a bit, but I couldn’t find work.
The factories here don’t take you without documentation. If you work on the street or someplace very discreet, they’ll take you without them. When I was in the shelter, they were deporting a lot of Haitians from the U.S. border who had no papers. On January 9, 2018, they deported a lot of Haitians. At the time, the Mexican government received us with open arms and said they would welcome us if we wanted to stay. There were a lot of jobs and companies that helped us foreigners find work or helped us get papers so we could work. Haitians agreed to stay here initially because Mexican immigration said they would help us change our status.
When I learned this, I told myself, ‘Fine, if I must stay here for a bit, I will, while I wait for another opportunity to get to the U.S.’ They gave me a humanitarian visa that lasted a year. After that, they had me fill out a letter asking why I left my home and how I came to be in Mexico.
When I finally got the humanitarian visa, they [the bosses] still didn’t want to give me a job. I didn’t have papers giving me permission to work. They also didn’t like us as black people. I found my first job over the internet. When I went to the location that was advertised, they took me in, gave me coffee, and said they would call but never did. I started searching again and found that this big company was hiring. When I went to them, they said they would hire me. When other Haitians heard I had found a job, they asked me to help them get one there too.
I asked my bosses what they could do on behalf of those Haitians, and they said it was fine to bring them on. They said that even if those Haitians didn’t have papers, they would talk to immigration and help to change their status to be able to work. My job took in more than 150 Haitians. I spent four months working there before I was let go. They let me go because I was in a group of people working with a piece of equipment that went bad, and they fired the entire group. Now, I work at another factory that makes safety goggles and other equipment. I’ve been working there for two years. In total, I make $63 a week. I rent a house for $200 a month, and I make about $223 a month, including overtime. If I don’t work extra hours to make more money, I won’t have enough food to eat. It’s like I’m only working to pay the rent. I love to work, but I’m forced to sacrifice my body to work as much as possible.
The money I make working at night is the money I end up saving to send $10 to $26 to my family and pay for small things I need, like clothes. If there’s a big problem back home, then I don’t have the means to help. When my mother got into an accident, I was able to send her $200 to $250. I can’t afford to send money every month with my pay. If I could make enough money to send every month, I’d send about $10 to $16. I have several family members, and I must send at least $100 or $200 to satisfy everyone. To be able to send that much money, I must make at least $313.
I have a bank account, but I didn’t get it on my own. When I went to the bank and asked to open an account, I couldn’t because they asked for a temporary or permanent residency card. I couldn’t just show up with my passport. With the temporary residence card, they also require your passport and something that shows your house address. Then they open it for you. I only have a bank account because of where I work. They won’t give me cash on hand. The company takes your passport with your picture and opens an account under your name. In the company, there’s a huge meeting room where you sit, and there’s an agent from the bank that comes with paperwork. They ask you for lots of information, and then they make you sign. But you can’t just go and open a bank account yourself.
I still feel that my journey isn’t complete because I haven’t reached my destination. I want to go to the United States because it’s a powerful country where I can go and be able to help my family. And life there is much more secure.