Third-country deportation has taken on a stark new meaning for a group of men now stranded in one of the world’s most dangerous nations, unable to leave and holding no documents that would allow them to go anywhere else.

Speaking to CBS News over video calls from a building in Bangui, capital of the Central African Republic, two of them described lives suspended indefinitely on a continent neither had any connection to.

Learning Your Destination After Arrival

Moreno de Armas, 31, said he did not know where he was being sent until he was already there in late July. He arrived alongside detainees originating from an unusually wide range of countries, including Ecuador, Honduras, Serbia, Russia and Vietnam.

His description of the situation was blunt. He explained that the group cannot depart, lacks documentation, and is suffering while separated from families in a place none of them know.

Asked whether he had any awareness of the Central African Republic before being deported there, his answer was simply that he had never heard of it.

Where They Ended Up

The country ranks among the poorest on earth. Sustained armed conflict, political instability and the presence of Russian mercenary forces have also made it among the most hazardous.

The State Department maintains a Level 4 advisory urging Americans not to travel there at all, citing pervasive insecurity.

It is one of more than 30 nations that have agreed to accept deportees who are not their own citizens, as part of a large-scale immigration enforcement effort. The roster increasingly includes African countries dealing with armed conflict, authoritarian governance and documented human rights problems.

A Father Cut Off From His Family

Zena Gebrgzabher, 39, originally from Eritrea, is also stuck in Bangui.

He told CBS News he misses his family, describing how his son asks his wife nearly every day where his father has gone.

His wife and their 5-year-old son are both American citizens living in Maryland, where Gebrgzabher worked as a truck driver. Like Moreno de Armas, he said he received no advance notice of the destination and no opportunity to contest it.

His wife, Yrgalem Gehrehiwet, called the removal both unfair and inhumane. She said their son Nathan has taken it hardest, though she has kept the details of his father’s circumstances from him.

Who Gets Sent Where

Neither man appears to have a criminal history beyond traffic matters and immigration violations such as unlawful entry, according to records CBS News reviewed.

Their profiles do align with the category of people generally targeted for these removals. The approach has been used primarily for immigrants whose home countries refuse or restrict deportations, as Cuba does, and for those who have obtained court protections preventing return to their homelands on safety grounds.

The Department of Homeland Security did not immediately answer questions about these specific cases or about what the Central African Republic receives in exchange for accepting deportees.

The Cuban Case

Moreno de Armas said returning to Cuba would put him at risk, pointing to a prior imprisonment after his first attempt to leave the island. Cuban government records confirm he was jailed for illegal departure from national territory. A second attempt succeeded.

American records show he reached Florida by boat in September 2016 and was admitted under parole authority, which Cuban arrivals received under the since-abandoned Wet Foot, Dry Foot framework.

He sought permanent residency through the Cuban Adjustment Act, a Cold War-era statute, but the application was rejected because it was submitted after his parole had lapsed.

Without legal status, he was arrested by immigration authorities in May 2025 and spent approximately a year in detention before being flown to Africa this summer.

Protected From One Country, Sent to Another

Gebrgzabher’s situation illustrates a gap in how protections function.

In 2017, an immigration judge determined he qualified for relief under the Convention Against Torture and blocked his removal to Eritrea.

Court records show he was denied asylum, a more durable status, because he had served as a checkpoint guard in the Eritrean military. Judges acknowledged he had been forcibly conscripted at 18, but applied a rule disqualifying anyone who may have assisted in persecuting others. He maintains he never harmed or detained anyone at the checkpoint; the judges concluded he obstructed the escape of political prisoners.

Documents indicate the Eritrean military later imprisoned him for overstaying leave, after which he fled, eventually requesting asylum at a U.S. port of entry.

Following his grant of protection, he built a family and reported to immigration authorities on schedule without incident, until he was detained during a routine check-in last year.

The critical detail is that his protection covered Eritrea specifically. It did not prevent officials from transferring him to an entirely different country.

Life Without a Country

Both men described a condition close to statelessness. They are in a nation whose languages they do not speak, without relatives, community ties or any legal identity permitting travel.

Moreno de Armas offered a simple objection to the entire arrangement, arguing that deportation should return someone to their own country rather than deposit them somewhere with an unfamiliar culture and no connection to their life.

For now, neither man has a clear path forward, and neither knows how long the arrangement that placed them in Bangui is meant to last.