Santiago Niltepec, Mexico –

Facing the heart-wrenching journey toward the United States, Carlos Perez, a 30-year-old Colombian migrant from Bogota, had hopes of reaching the US border with his wife and 11-year-old son by New Year’s Day 2024. However, exhaustion caught up with his family as they trekked through southern Mexico, covering over 2,500 kilometers—more than 1,500 miles by foot—together.

To ease their burden, Perez bought a bicycle, creating a makeshift seat for his family on the handlebars. Their journey took a disastrous turn in mid-November when a tragic accident left him injured and his family bruised, raising alarming concerns about whether they would reach the US in time before Donald Trump potentially reinstates strict border policies on January 20, 2025. "I fear for my family's safety, and I am not sure if we can make it now," Perez lamented as he looked at his son receiving treatment in a mobile clinic set up by Doctors Without Borders.

The specter of Trump’s imminent presidency looms large over Perez and fellow migrants, many of whom escaped gang violence, political oppression, and severe poverty in their home countries. Trump has promised, and hinted at, stringent measures to "close" the border, potentially deploying military forces to deter unauthorized crossings, which he elaborates on as an “invasion.” Recent claims suggest that Mexico has made preliminary arrangements to curb migration flows, but the effectiveness of these proclamations remains uncertain.

Among those sheltered at the migrant camp is Omar Ramirez, a Venezuelan journalist who fled from the clutches of President Nicolas Maduro's government. With deteriorating economic conditions in Venezuela, the value of a journalist's salary plunges to an untenable $6 per month in a country where the minimum wage is a mere $4. Ramirez clutches documents verifying his identity and employment, hoping they will facilitate his asylum application in the US. Meanwhile, conditions in the camp reflect dire circumstances, as he battles open wounds on his feet due to inadequate medical care and daily hardships.

Compounding the fear is the Biden administration’s reliance on the CBP One app for asylum processing, a system critics argue is fraught with problems, including long wait times—sometimes stretching to four months. During his campaign, Trump suggested striking down the app entirely, dismissively labeling it as the “Kamala phone app,” referring to his opponent. He claims it is facilitating illegal smuggling, which experts have contested as baseless.

As migrants prepare themselves against an uncertain future, many like Ramirez see January as a race against time. “My family is my motivation. I hope to earn enough money to reunite with them safely,” he states, grappling with the emotional toll of separation and the dangers present along the treacherous route.

Ricardo Santiago, head of operations for Doctors Without Borders in southern Mexico, anticipates a surge in arrivals at the border as stories of harrowing journeys proliferate. While September marked a significant drop in border apprehensions—an anomaly in the ebb and flow of migration—Santiago reports that the momentum has reversed, as large migrant caravans have begun reforming, potentially comprising thousands, a stark contrast to previous months.

Despite the inherent risks—exposure to violence, exploitation by cartels, and sometimes internal conflicts—these caravans present a communal shield against the rigors of travel, pushing back against the rapidly evolving narratives surrounding immigration.

"November saw a worrying rise in the number of patients suffering from violent incidents,” shared Santiago, highlighting the increasing dangers that migrants face. Amid the shifting political landscape and the anticipation of Trump’s second term, the plight of asylum seekers remains precarious. As these families struggle to navigate the perils of their journey, the quest for safety hangs delicately in the balance, with hope for a better future compelling them forward.