The plight of a disabled man in ICE custody shows impact of Trump immigration orders

A deaf and mute Mongolian man has spent more than 80 days at the Otay Mesa Detention Center. During that time, he has not had an opportunity to see a judge or communicate with anyone who understands Mongolian Sign Language, according to his sister and lawyer.

Bema, the man’s sister, described her brother’s time in the privately-run detention facility as being "trapped in silence.”

“He’s completely cut off from understanding or participating in what’s happening to him, that’s what breaks my heart” said Bema, a U.S. citizen who lives in Virginia and is trying to sponsor her brother.

The man goes by the nickname Bay. Bema asked KPBS not to share their last name out of fear that speaking out could jeopardize his immigration case.

Andrea Montavon-McKillip, Bay’s immigration lawyer, believes this case is an example of how President Donald Trump’s executive orders eliminate due process protections for immigrants while generating millions in profits for private prison companies.

Bay crossed the border in February and immediately turned himself over to Border Patrol agents, according to Montavon-McKillip.

“He gave them a letter that was written in Mongolian and translated into English, and they refused to accept it,” she said. “They refused to even look at it. That letter explained that he feared returning to Mongolia and wanted to apply for asylum.”

Language barrier

Border Patrol agents transferred Bay to Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents, who took him to the Otay Mesa Detention Center, according to Montavon-McKillip.

He was placed in expedited removal, a fast-track deportation process in which people who don’t have proper documents can be deported before seeing an immigration judge. However, there’s historically been a safeguard that prevents the federal government from deporting people to dangerous places.

It’s called a “credible fear” screening. If someone establishes a credible fear that they would be persecuted or physically harmed in their home country, they are allowed to pursue an asylum case in front of an immigration judge.

But one of President Trump’s new executive orders, called “Guaranteeing States Protection Against Invasion,” removes that safeguard, according to lawyers suing the Trump administration over the executive order.

“People fleeing religious persecution, who would normally have a slam dunk asylum case, are not going through that screening process,” said Edith Sanguesa, a senior staff attorney for the Center for Gender and Refugee Studies, one of the parties of the federal lawsuit.

Bay did not receive a credible fear screening, Montavon-McKillip said. Instead, he was subject to a different type of assessment that requires a higher legal standard to pass and was not allowed to have a lawyer present.

The language barrier played a significant role, Montavon-McKillip said.

“The most he could do was write Mongolia on a piece of paper and use body language to indicate that he was afraid,” she said.

The interview was done through video. ICE provided an interpreter who spoke sign language. But Bay later told his lawyer that he didn’t understand the interpreter’s signs because they were different from Mongolian Sign Language, Montavon-McKillip said.

The DHS employee determined that sending Bay back to Mongolia would not put him in danger. He is now facing deportation. Montavon-McKillip filed a motion in federal court to prevent the deportation.

KPBS confirmed that Bay is in the Otay Mesa Detention Center, which is run by CoreCivic, a private for-profit company.

An ICE spokesperson did not respond to a KPBS request for comment before this story was published.

Montavon-McKillip notes that federal disability laws prohibit discrimination against people with disabilities by any federal program, including the immigration court system. She said the lack of access to an in-person hearing, a Mongolian Sign Language interpreter, and legal representation at the hearing are possible due process violations.

“You’re interviewed in a language you don’t understand, by someone who works for DHS, you’re not taken in front of a judge, you don’t have anybody neutral or unbiased looking at your case and your attorney can’t be present,” she said.

A traumatic life

During his life in Mongolia, Bay experienced several beatings because of his disability, according to Montavon-McKillip and Bema.

In 2020, one beating resulted in a traumatic brain injury. Other beatings resulted in broken bones, Bema said. Although they’ve been reported to local authorities, the perpetrators have not been brought to justice, she said.

Bema was hoping Bay could live with her while his asylum case is adjudicated. She already has a room ready for her brother in her Virginia townhome. Bema also connected with a nonprofit based in the Bay Area that could provide Bay with American Sign Language lessons and job training programs.

Bema supports deporting people who have been convicted of violent crimes. But she doesn’t think her brother should be targeted by the Trump administration’s mass deportation campaign.

“He has no criminal record in Mongolia,” she said. “Just give him a chance to tell his story. All we are asking for is fairness on his part.”

Recent polls from PEW Research Center show that most Americans support deporting people with violent convictions. But support for deportation decreases significantly for people who have jobs, no criminal records, or family in the United States.

Bay’s prolonged isolation has taken a toll on his mental health. Bema said he’s showing signs of depression.

At this point Bema and Montavon-McKillip have no idea how long Bay will stay in detention. Or whether they'll be able to prevent his deportation.

On average, it costs U.S. taxpayers $217 per day for ICE to detain people in San Diego, according to a 2024 budget analysis. So far, it’s cost more than $17,000 to keep Bay detained.

CoreCivic reported a net income of $25 million for the first quarter of 2025.

“Never in our 42-year company history have we had so much activity and demand for our services as we are seeing right now,” the company’s CEO told investors in a recent earnings call. 

Bema does her best to stay in touch with Bay through a text and video messaging app that charges 25 cents per minute for video calls. But the video is blurry, which makes it difficult to read her brother’s sign language.

“It’s not just that he’s been detained. But he’s completely cut off from understanding or participating in what’s happening to him,” Bema said. “That’s what breaks my heart.”