Roughly 300 migrants from across the globe, deported by the U.S. to Panama, are trapped in the Decapolis Hotel, where they struggle for freedom and safety. Their silent cries for help, made through signs and gestures, convey a growing sense of desperation among detainees, including families and children.
Migrants Locked in Panama's Decapolis Hotel Seek Aid from the Outside World
Migrants Locked in Panama's Decapolis Hotel Seek Aid from the Outside World
An investigation into the plight of approximately 300 deported migrants confined in Panama's Decapolis Hotel highlights their desperate attempts for help amid fear and uncertainty.
In the heart of Panama City, the towering Decapolis Hotel serves as an unexpected prison for around 300 migrants who have been deported from the United States. These individuals, hailing from various corners of the world—most notably Iran, India, Afghanistan, and China—find themselves confined to rooms they cannot leave, turning a once luxurious escape into a grim reality.
Through makeshift signs and discreet messages, the migrants communicate their desperation and fear. A young girl timidly peers out from the hotel window, while adults create handwritten pleas for assistance. One poignant scene shows a woman from Cameroon holding up a napkin inscribed with “HELP US” as she and her companions stand alongside the glass, their cries muted by the thick barrier separating them from the outside world.
Within the confines of the hotel, individuals like Artemis Ghasemzadeh, a 27-year-old migrant from Iran, have taken to writing "Help" in lipstick on the window, while others wear gray sweatshirts that indicate past detention in U.S. facilities. As many as ten Iranian migrants, who converted to Christianity and face persecution under Iranian law, remain trapped in this situation without the ability to reach legal representation or NGOs that might assist them.
Despite their isolation, efforts to build connections remain. In one instance, a New York Times reporter sought to reach these individuals by displaying a phone number, hoping to open lines of communication. As the harsh reality of their confinement sinks in, the migrants feel the weight of despair and uncertainty. Their asylum hopes, once sparked at the U.S. border, now seem to dissolve in Panama, a country reluctant to harbor those it has received and unable to return them to their homelands.
In this sealed environment, a new narrative emerges—one of resilience in the face of adversity and a yearning for freedom that echoes deeply through the glass confines of the Decapolis Hotel.
Through makeshift signs and discreet messages, the migrants communicate their desperation and fear. A young girl timidly peers out from the hotel window, while adults create handwritten pleas for assistance. One poignant scene shows a woman from Cameroon holding up a napkin inscribed with “HELP US” as she and her companions stand alongside the glass, their cries muted by the thick barrier separating them from the outside world.
Within the confines of the hotel, individuals like Artemis Ghasemzadeh, a 27-year-old migrant from Iran, have taken to writing "Help" in lipstick on the window, while others wear gray sweatshirts that indicate past detention in U.S. facilities. As many as ten Iranian migrants, who converted to Christianity and face persecution under Iranian law, remain trapped in this situation without the ability to reach legal representation or NGOs that might assist them.
Despite their isolation, efforts to build connections remain. In one instance, a New York Times reporter sought to reach these individuals by displaying a phone number, hoping to open lines of communication. As the harsh reality of their confinement sinks in, the migrants feel the weight of despair and uncertainty. Their asylum hopes, once sparked at the U.S. border, now seem to dissolve in Panama, a country reluctant to harbor those it has received and unable to return them to their homelands.
In this sealed environment, a new narrative emerges—one of resilience in the face of adversity and a yearning for freedom that echoes deeply through the glass confines of the Decapolis Hotel.
