From Day 1 of the second Trump administration, President Donald Trump took measures to curb the number of refugees admitted to the U.S.
In order to learn more about how life for refugees has changed since then, the Deseret News spoke with two refugees living in Utah who have been impacted by the changes to refugee policy.
Both men were close to reuniting with members of their families when the government drastically diminished the number of refugees it would accept. Since then, both men have been unable to reunite with those family members.
A man from Venezuela, who will be referred to as Norberto for the sake of anonymity, spoke with the Deseret News to share his story of being a political refugee from Venezuela.
Norberto said the process of getting his family to the U.S. was “moving forward well,” but all of a sudden, everything “froze.”
Another man named Abdi, who fled from war-torn Somalia as a child, shared how his mother was within days of getting her flight to the U.S. before communication from the government went silent.
Aden Batar, director of the Migration and Refugee Services for Catholic Community Services, said that since the changes were put in place, “We have seen parents who were not able to reunite with their children, (and) children who were not able to reunite with their parents.”
How refugee policy changed
On Jan. 20, 2025, Trump’s first day in office, the president signed an executive order titled “Realigning the United States Refugee Admissions Program” that suspended the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program.
In September of last year, Trump capped the annual refugee admissions for 2026 at 7,500, a significant decrease from the previous four years, which had each been set at 125,000.
The cap, however, is rarely met. The Migration Policy Institute reported that in 2023 and 2024, roughly 160,000 total refugees arrived in the country, falling below the cap in both years.
Since 2025, fewer than 30,000 refugees have come into the U.S., the majority of whom have been South African Afrikaners, according to the institute.
Utah, which is seen as one of the friendliest states in the U.S., accepted approximately 8,500 refugees between 2012 and 2023, according to Refugee Processing Center.
The journey from Venezuela
Norberto shared his story of coming to the U.S. and how his family was impacted by the new limits on refugee admission. As Norberto only speaks Spanish, the interview was conducted with a translator.
“I’ve been involved in politics my whole life,” said Norberto, who was an active member of an opposition party in Venezuela. “Unfortunately, I’ve witnessed this entire process of Venezuela’s transformation, from what Venezuela used to be to the ruin it is today.”
“I began opposing this regime that’s currently in power in Venezuela from the very start,” he continued, “in 1999, when (Hugo) Chávez won the presidency.”
Norberto worked as a political adviser and served as a legislator and mayor. “Once I finished my term as mayor,” he said, “the persecution against me began.”
For months, he wasn’t allowed to work and authorities tried to take away his home. As a result, he was forced to move to Colombia without his family. While in Colombia, Norberto helped transport humanitarian aid into Venezuela, which marked him as a supporter of Juan Guaidó, a leader who contended with Nicolás Maduro for the Venezuelan presidency.
“I think that’s what we need to treat them like every other generation of refugees that came to this country. … The refugees, their stories are not different from American stories. We are celebrating 250 years of American independence. The refugees are part of that story and immigrants that are in our community, their stories are the American story.”
— Aden Batar, director of the Migration and Refugee Services for Catholic Community Services,
“Then things got worse because they were already waiting for us on Venezuelan soil to kill us,” Norberto continued. “And I’ve always been persecuted by the … ‘collectivos,’ which are people armed by the government.”
In 2023, a program opened that would allow Norberto to seek refuge in the United States legally. After an extensive process that included heavy vetting, Norberto entered the United States as a political refugee. His family, however, was stuck in Venezuela, and without him there to provide, they suffered under a poor economic situation.
Norberto came to the U.S. partially because officials told him that if he went first, it would be easier to get his family out of Venezuela.
“The experience has been satisfying,” he said. “I’m extremely grateful to the American people, because in the U.S. I’ve managed to do things I couldn’t do in Venezuela. For example, keeping a stable job so I can once again provide for my family.”
The journey from Somalia
Abdi found a home in Utah after living in a refugee camp in Kenya for 12 years. Growing up in Somalia, Abdi enjoyed growing up in his village and experienced the regular parts of boyhood: “playing with the other boys, my grandmother and grandfather telling stories, going to the farms, chasing monkeys, throwing mango seeds to monkeys, and giving monkeys names,” he recalled.
“That’s how that was going. Playing, boys going swimming and all that. Then a war broke out.”
When Abdi was 8 years old, militants took all of their possessions, killed and raped many people from his village, and left the remainder of the people to starve.
“When they came, they just wanted to make sure we suffered,” Abdi said. Soon after the war broke out, Abdi and his family had to flee Somalia and ended up in a refugee camp in Kenya.
“Life wasn’t easy there,” Abdi said. “I was a kid, but I could feel or see what my parents were going through.”
Abdi said that in the camps, “people didn’t have anything. So basically you went to an open area with nothing, waiting for the U.N. to give you a ration or a tarp or a tent to live in.”
After the long wait, Abdi got a plane ticket to Salt Lake City. When he arrived, he had nothing except for $20 a woman had given his family in the Denver airport.
Federal funding cuts strained capacity to help refugees
“When we came to Utah, that’s all we had,” Abdi said. “But luckily there was a resettlement agency, Catholic Community Services.”
Catholic Community Services helped Abdi and his family to get situated, find an apartment, and find jobs. Organizations like Catholic Community Services lost a large portion of their funding when the Trump administration made cuts to federal aid for refugees.
Batar described the impact that federal funding cuts have had on refugee services in Utah and at his organization.
Catholic Community Services typically assists hundreds of refugees when they come to Utah, but the Trump administration has slowed refugee admissions into the United States.
Batar described the impact the cuts have had on refugee families in Utah. “(In January 2025 when) our federal funding was cut, we had hundreds of families, over 200 families that we were providing services for. … The federal funding cut … put a lot of strain and pressure on our community.”
Batar believes America has a responsibility to help people in need throughout the world: “America is one of the greatest countries and we have the will and (the ability to) support these countries that are struggling.”
Speaking of the refugees who have come to Utah, Batar said, “They’re part of Utah, they’re Utahns, and they’re American. They’re very proud. And every July 4, I’ve seen a lot of America, a lot of refugees celebrating the Fourth of July because they are American. They are part of this community.”
“I think that’s what we need to treat them like every other generation of refugees that came to this country. … The refugees, their stories are not different from American stories. We are celebrating 250 years of American independence. The refugees are part of that story and immigrants that are in our community, their stories are the American story.”
Batar said he believes the federal funding that was cut was “being used for a good cause.”
For Norberto’s family, everything ‘froze’
When Norberto arrived in the U.S., he began working multiple jobs to help provide for his family.
“Now, in the midst (of coming to the U.S.), I began the family reunification process,” Norberto said. “There’s a set of rights inherent to refugee status, and among them is the possibility of later bringing your family so they can be with you, protected, in the United States.”
Back in Venezuela, his family began receiving death threats due to Norberto’s political involvement. To protect them, he saved up money and bought them tickets to Spain.
Once they got to Spain, the process began moving along smoothly and they were very close to coming to the United States. “Everything was moving forward well,” he said, “but then President Donald Trump arrived, with all due respect, and he froze everything.”
Norberto said he understood that the increased immigration enforcement was to combat criminal organizations, but said that “not all of us are criminals.”
Having not seen his family for three years, Norberto hopes to be reunited with them soon. “They’re going to come to work, to pay taxes like all of us are doing, because that’s another important thing,” Norberto said. “Regularizing migration is precisely for that, so that in any case it helps the country that’s granting protection.”
Abdi’s mom was set to come in January 2025
When Abdi came to Utah over two decades ago, his mother was unable to come with him. From the time Abdi was 5 until he turned 40, he was unable to see his mother.
Finally, Abdi and a few of his children were able to go visit her in Africa. The process for her to come to the U.S. was progressing and they were expecting her to join them in Utah in January of 2025.
However, when the Trump administration suspended refugee admissions, Abdi’s mom never received her plane ticket.
“When I was a kid,” Abdi said, “I was with my granddad. I saw my grandma, I saw my grandpa, and I knew what they could offer me. All the wisdom, growing with now as an adult, everything that they offered, all the stories they told.”
When she was unable to come, Abdi felt like his children were robbed of the experience of growing up with their grandmother.
“I could hear from mom’s voice, she wanted that same kind of life for my kids. She wanted to come. She wanted to come and spoil them, give them candy, tell them stories, tell them how their dad was when he was young and all that. … I wanted my kids to have the same experience that I had.”
Gratitude for the community in Utah
Abdi was surprised by the warm welcome he and his family received when they came to Utah. “The people were so welcoming, actually. Like, I didn’t feel like I wasn’t accepted. It just felt like everything was different,” he said.
Norberto expressed a similar sentiment about how he was treated by the people in Utah.
“I don’t know about other places, but in the state of Utah I feel very comfortable. People here are very kind and very warm. Even at my workplace, when they try to communicate with me and I explain that I don’t speak English, the people try to communicate.”
“I haven’t felt discrimination at any point,” Norberto said. “I haven’t felt that. What does worry me is … that ICE (U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement) might stop me on the street. And I don’t know if because of my refugee status I might have some kind of (protection), but they could still make me go through a bad experience.”
Norberto expressed gratitude to the people of Utah for their help in responding to the devastating earthquakes that struck Venezuela last month.
“I saw people from here dropping off things, bringing food, supplies, all kinds of things. And I said, wow, this state is really kind, really supportive.”
Their message to readers
Both refugees who spoke with the Deseret News shared what they would want readers to know about the refugee experience.
Abdi, who now runs a goat farm, said refugees hope to work and feel safe.
“We just want to be safe, belong to the society and contribute as any American would want to do. If we didn’t like it, we would leave. We love our own country.”
“I don’t know about other places, but in the state of Utah I feel very comfortable. People here are very kind and very warm. Even at my workplace, when they try to communicate with me and I explain that I don’t speak English, the people try to communicate.”
— Norberto, a refugee from Venezuela who is living in Utah
Abdi said that he wished everybody in Utah would “become friends with refugees and don’t judge them. They’ve been through a lot. Talk to them. I can tell stories now because someone took the chance on me.”
“They want to be part of something bigger,” Abdi continued, “but they need you as a leader or as a supporter. They don’t need a handout. They just want to feel like they belong.”
Norberto’s translator, who also assists him in the process to be reunited with his family, added that family reunification matters.
“We want families to be together,” he said.