'I'm traumatized': Terrified Haitians in U.S. make dangerous journey to Canada

‘’I can guarantee you that while you and I are talking, there are people who are entering Canada,” said André, a Quebecer of Haitian origin with the Action Committee for People Without Status.

“People call me every day. As soon as I tell them to be careful, they say, “Mr. André, I have no choice.”

Since Christmas Day, at least 27 migrants of Haitian origin have been arrested in Quebec after crossing the border on foot, trying to evade border guards. Several required hospitalization for signs of hypothermia and frostbite after making the frigid trek.

Some of them have already been deported into the control of the U.S Customs and Border Protection, says the Canada Border Services Agency. The relative speed of their deportations is the result of changes made in 2023 to an agreement with the U.S. that closed a loophole that had allowed people who entered Canada outside official ports of entry to make asylum claims. 

Under the existing Canada-U.S. Safe Third Country Agreement, asylum seekers must apply for refugee status in the first safe country they arrive in, meaning someone in the U.S. can’t cross into Canada to seek refugee status.

However, there are exceptions, including if the would-be refugee has close family in Canada or if they are an unaccompanied minor. Another exception to the agreement allows migrants who remain undetected for at least 14 days in Canada to apply for asylum.

It’s these exceptions that are offering some hope to Haitians who are planning to head north.

One of them recently spoke to The Canadian Press on condition of anonymity because she feared being arrested by United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement, known as ICE. A single mother of a seven-year-old daughter, she moved from Haiti to the United States nearly two years ago, and says the constant threat of arrest has her terrified.

“I’m traumatized and trying to hold on for my daughter, but honestly, it’s getting worse every day. We’re merely breathing, we’re no longer living,” she said on the phone from the state of Georgia.

She said she first came to the U.S. through a humanitarian parole program under the administration of former president Joe Biden. When President Donald Trump ended that program in late May 2025, she applied for temporary protected status, but she said she never received a response. Since May, she has had no legal status in the U.S.

“I hardly ever leave my house anymore for fear of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don’t think it’s a situation I would wish on anyone, not even my worst enemy.”

The recent high-profile killing of a woman by an ICE agent in Minneapolis has deepened her anxiety. “In another situation, it could have been me. What would happen to my child?” she said.

The mother said she witnessed an ICE raid at a local supermarket, which she said traumatized her after agents arrived in two vehicles and began arresting people. She hid inside the supermarket during the ICE operation and has not returned to the store.

Casey Rollins, executive director of non-profit St. Vincent de Paul in Springfield, Ohio, said the charity hears similar fears daily. Haitian families feel overwhelmed and uncertain, with little sense of safety, Rollins said, adding, “I don’t even know what to say, it’s just so bad here.”

The migrants’ fear is aggravated by the looming end of the temporary protected status program for Haitians, set to expire on Feb. 3. The program allows nationals from countries affected by conflict or disaster to live and work legally in the U.S. without fear of deportation.

Zachary Abraham Kohn, a lawyer specializing in immigration law in Washington, D.C., said in a recent interview there is a legal challenge to the scheduled termination of the protected status program “that could potentially extend this deadline.”

For the Haitian mother in Georgia, she said she wanted to travel north, but with no family in Canada, she doesn’t qualify to enter — at least not legally.

François Crépeau, a McGill University law professor and former director of the school’s Centre for Human Rights and Legal Pluralism, said people who cross illegally into Canada often have little knowledge of the legal system. “I mean, how could they? Deporting them very quickly prevents them from contacting NGOs and lawyers, and it makes the work of the Canada Border Services Agency easier.’’

Crépeau says Canada’s current approach makes irregular crossing more dangerous.

Before 2023, tens of thousands of migrants had crossed into Canada illegally, many through Roxham Road, a rural, forested path connecting Quebec with New York state. Back then, asylum seekers who had made the journey were allowed to stay in the country while their application was processed. But since the safe third country deal was amended, Roxham Road has been closed.

“We had a system that worked very well. Now it’s chaos,” Crépeau said of Roxham’s closure, which has led people to take their chances crossing into Canada through the forest. “People pay high (smuggling) fees, risk dangerous crossings, and the authorities lose oversight.’’

The stakes are particularly high for Haitian migrants like the mother from Georgia, who say returning to Haiti is not a viable option. According to the United Nations, gangs control roughly 85 per cent of the capital Port-au-Prince, underscoring the security situation many migrants are leaving behind. 

“Going back to Haiti would be like suicide,” she said. “Two of my father’s relatives were (recently) murdered. Going back is surrendering to death.”

This report by The Canadian Press was first published Jan. 20, 2026.