The Dominican Republic has ramped up deportations of Haitian migrants—the General Directorate of Migration (DGM) reported the removal of 99,268 undocumented immigrants between January 1 and early April 2026. 

In the Dominican Republic, Haitian migration is often discussed in terms of border, documentation, security, and state control. However, for thousands of families, this reality is not experienced as an abstract debate, but as a daily experience of fear, displacement, precariousness, and exclusion.

Behind every statistic there are people. There are pregnant mothers who are afraid to go to the hospital. There are children who do not manage to complete the school year. There are families who have to flee their homes and hide for days in the mountains to avoid being arrested. There are people who live in constant mobility, sleeping where they can, trying to protect their children and saving the little they have.

The Organización para el Desarrollo y la Acción Humanitaria (ODAH), part of Resonate Global Mission’s ministry network, has known firsthand the impact of that fear.

One of the cases accompanied by our organization is that of a woman whom we will call Maria, to protect her identity and dignity. Maria is a migrant woman, hypertensive and diabetic, with a high-risk pregnancy. Her condition required specialized care and a safe delivery. However, there was a real fear that, after a cesarean section, she could be deported with her baby a few days after delivery, putting her recovery and the health of the newborn at serious risk.

Faced with this situation, ODAH assumed a direct response: it covered the cost of a private clinic to ensure a safe delivery and then followed up on her recovery process through our health program, with the accompaniment of the doctor in charge.

This case shows the extent to which fear can push people to make extreme choices or avoid essential services.

We have also known deeply painful cases. According to community testimonies, a migrant woman suffered a wound to her foot and did not go to the hospital for fear of being deported. The wound became infected, the infection progressed to compromise the bone and, finally, the situation led to her death. It is a hard story, but it is necessary to name, because it shows that fear can also kill.

Another important testimony is that of Awilda, an immigrant woman who managed to obtain legal documentation in the Dominican Republic. Awilda is part of ODAH programs linked to income generation, family vegetables, and community transformation. In addition to actively participating in these processes, she has become a community leader.

Awilda has accompanied migrant women who, for fear of going to hospitals, have chosen to give birth at home. Many of these homes do not have adequate hygienic conditions, basic equipment, or sufficient medical accompaniment. Even so, births take place there, in contexts of great precariousness, sustained by the solidarity of other women in the community.

From ODAH we recognize the right of the state to order its migration policy and protect its sovereignty. But we also clearly maintain that no public policy should lose sight of human dignity. Order cannot be built by sowing terror in poor communities. The application of the law should not translate into fear of going to the hospital, in children out of school, in families hiding in the mountains or in people stripped of their belongings.

The Dominican Republic needs responsible migration policies, yes. But it also needs humanity, prudence, and a sense of justice. Migration cannot be approached solely from the logic of control; it must also be treated from the protection of life, childhood, health and social coexistence.

Responses are needed that combine migratory order, humanitarian protection, safe access to health, educational continuity for children, prevention of abuse, and cooperation between communities, churches, social organizations, and authorities. No country solves its migratory challenges by turning the most vulnerable into enemies.

From its community health, income generation, family vegetables and community transformation programs, ODAH has sought to respond in a concrete way to these realities, accompanying families, strengthening local leadership and promoting dignity where there is often only fear.

We believe that a true society strong is not the one that humiliates the most vulnerable, but the one that knows how to act firmly without losing its humanity. Because a nation is not only measured by the way it applies the law, but also by the way it treats those who live in greater vulnerability.

The underlying question is not just how to regulate migration. The question is how we want to treat human beings while doing so.

The answer cannot be hatred. The answer must be dignity. Together we sow hope.