Shakopee man from Nicaragua deported to Central African Republic

Kenis Lopez Gonzalez fled political persecution in Nicaragua in 2022 and turned himself in to immigration authorities upon arriving in the U.S. Two years later, an immigration judge ruled that he could not be deported back to Nicaragua because he was at risk of being tortured there. 

He moved to Shakopee, Minnesota, started a construction company and paid taxes, he said. He has no criminal record.

After his arrest during Operation Metro Surge, Lopez was sent roughly 7,000 miles to the Central African Republic.

“I told them I was scared of going to that country,” Lopez said in Spanish during an interview from detention in the politically unstable, landlocked country, which has a population roughly equivalent to Minnesota but where the life expectancy is just 57. 

He is fighting for his return to the United States. 

In its quest to deport millions of immigrants, the Trump administration is sending people like Lopez, who have protections from deportation to their home countries, to nations that have agreed to accept deportees in exchange for cash or other concessions. Those countries are largely authoritarian. One of the most publicized examples is El Salvador, whose autocratic President Nayib Bukele accepted $6 million and more than 250 deportees, mostly Venezuelans, who were held in the country’s notorious Terrorism Confinement Center. Detainees have reported beatings by guards, sexual assault, psychological abuse, lack of medical treatment and poor living conditions. 

More recently, several countries in Africa have signed agreements with the Trump administration to hold deportees. The terms of the agreement between the U.S. and the Central African Republic have not been disclosed, but the African nation began accepting detainees following a payment of $85 million to the country’s International Organization for Migration, according to the U.S. Committee for Refugees and Immigrants, which is tracking third-country deportations. 

In Eswatini, an absolute monarchy, detainees have no pathway to freedom. In the Democratic Republic of the Congo, deportees from Latin America live among the millions of Congolese people whose homes and businesses were destroyed in war. 

The Central African Republic is a politically unstable country that has been mired in violence since rebels overthrew the government in 2013. Lopez, bound by the walls of the detention center, is isolated from daily life there. But his future is uncertain.

Immigration and Customs Enforcement did not immediately respond to the Reformer’s emailed questions for this story.

Ten months in detention and counting

Lopez was warming up his car in the driveway of his Shakopee home on the morning of Jan. 15 when eight immigration agents approached him and asked if he was a citizen, according to a court declaration. 

Lopez showed them the court order barring his deportation, along with his work permit and REAL ID. The agents took the papers, then handcuffed Lopez, placed him in a van and drove him to the Whipple Federal Building. 

For months, ICE transferred him from one detention center to another: El Paso; Alexandria, Louisiana; Jackson Parish, Louisiana; Dallas, and then Alvarado, Texas. In April, Lopez finally made contact with an attorney, who filed a habeas corpus petition — a lawsuit arguing that his detention was illegal. 

On Aug. 28, Lopez and dozens of other men, including several other Nicaraguans, were placed on a bus bound for a Texas airport. Lopez didn’t know where they were going, he said. He thought he was being transferred to another detention center in Mississippi. He and the other men were bound at the wrists, ankles and waist. 

It wasn’t until the bus pulled on to the tarmac that Lopez learned he was about to board a plane to the Central African Republic. 

“They didn’t give me any information,” Lopez said. “They tricked me into leaving.” 

The officers ordered the men off of the bus. Lopez and others refused. 

“In that moment I tried to explain to them that first, I had protection,” Lopez said in Spanish, speaking from his cell in a detention center in the Central African Republic. “Second, I had a habeas corpus pending. And third, they were violating my due process rights.”

Then, the officers shot the men inside the bus with pepper balls at close range, he said.

Lopez couldn’t breathe; he suffered wounds from the balls’ impact on his legs, chest and arms. The agents dragged the men out of the bus, and Lopez said he was placed in a “wrap” — a straitjacket-like restraint device — and carried onto the plane. Workers on the plane removed the wrap after what Lopez believes was about an hour, but he remained shackled at the hands, feet and waist for the entire trip to Central African Republic, which took about a day and a half. 

He was served food — a sandwich and water bottle — three times over that day and a half, Lopez said. 

Lopez was now among the more than 2,300 Minnesotans shipped out of the country since Operation Metro Surge began in Dec. 2025. 

Since his arrival in the Central African Republic, he’s been detained in what seems to be an apartment building converted to a detention center, he said. He has a phone, but cell service and electricity are spotty.

For the first two months, the food made him sick, he said. Now, he’s no longer ill, but finds the meals unappetizing. 

Every day, he wakes up and reads the Bible, then exercises in his room. He goes online and checks in with his family, then spends time with another Nicaraguan man he’s befriended. 

He identifies with the story of Job, a man faced with disaster after disaster, testing his faith in God. 

His parents both died in the past year. His wife ended their relationship after Lopez was detained, he said.

“It’s a difficult situation,” Lopez said. “Despite all of that, God’s plan is perfect. He knew all of this was going to happen.”

The Supreme Court is expected to rule on the legality of third country deportations in December. Lopez’s attorneys are asking a judge to order the U.S. government to return Lopez to Minnesota in the meantime. 

A hearing in Lopez’s case is scheduled for Friday at 1 p.m.