Norma Zavala Levia emigrated from El Salvador to Kansas City a decade ago.
A gang had targeted her husband’s business for extortion at a time in the mid-2010s when gangs were known for senseless, gruesome violence. It slowly sapped his business.
Zavala Levia felt the risk of staying in El Salvador wasn’t worth it.
In 2016, she left El Salvador. Her key motive was to find a better life for her kids, especially her oldest daughter, Gabriela, who is deaf and has developmental delays.
In 2021, according to court documents, Zavala Levia’s family fell victim to a violent crime. The perpetrator was charged with aggravated assault, felony unlawful use of a weapon and endangering the welfare of a minor child.
In an interview five years after the crime, Zavala Levia asked to not go into the details. But the crime outlined a path forward for her: The U visa.
The U visa is set aside for victims of a crime who have “suffered mental or physical abuse,” and help in the investigation or prosecution of the crime. But the United States issues a maximum of 10,000 per year, and the demand far outpaces the available spots.
With more than 400,000 petitions pending, the odds of Zavala Levia receiving a U visa quickly were low, so after United States Citizenship and Immigration Services found her petition to be legitimate her family was placed on deferred action. That granted the family temporary protection from deportation and work authorization.
“I felt very happy, I thought that we’d always be together,” Zavala Levia said with the help of an interpreter.
A little over a year after USCIS granted her protection, Zavala Levia was detained at a regular check-in. The complaint her attorney filed says she still had protected status.
“I know that people do bad things, and they need to pay for what they do,” Zavala Levia said. “But it is unfair for people who come to the United States with that dream of providing for the family. This what I don’t conceive — why do we have to be punished?”
She was brought to the CoreCivic facility in Leavenworth, Kansas. She talked about her time in the detention center through tears — she described it as horrible, with no privacy.
In May, she was deported back to El Salvador. She rarely leaves her home.
“You can not put a name to the pain I’m feeling, being away from family,” Zavala Levia said.
Zavala Levia’s 19-year-old daughter, Fatima Martinez Zavala, now has to fill in the gaps her mother left. On top of caring for her sister with developmental delays, she’s worried about getting detained, too.
“(Life) has been hard,” Martinez Zavala said. “You never know what is going to happen when we go out.”
Zavala Levia’s motion for a temporary restraining order — which could eventually allow her to come home — received a hearing last Wednesday. The federal government has until mid-September to respond.
U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement did not respond to a request for comment.
