On the morning before Thanksgiving, Mor Ba got into his car to go to work but was hemmed in by unmarked cars. Immigration officers poured out and asked for someone whose name he didn’t recognize. Ba doesn’t have a criminal record and wasn’t breaking any laws. He was just months away from his first big hearing in an asylum case he’s been waiting on for years.
As soon as he was allowed to use his phone, he started calling his aunt, Seydi Sarr, a Detroit-based immigrants’ rights advocate. She was in the middle of translation work, but answered the phone when Ba’s calls kept coming in.
“I picked up the phone and I'm like, ‘Boy, it's not because you're graduating early that you're going to wake up in the morning and calling me 25,000 times, what's up?” she recalled. “And he said, ‘Hey Auntie, I'm here at the ICE (office).’ And I’m like, ‘What you doing at ICE?’”
