Inside the Decapolis Hotel in Panama City, approximately 300 migrants from various countries confront a grim reality. Barred from leaving the hotel after being deported from the U.S., many of them share their fears through desperate messages, as they wait for a chance to seek asylum.**
Desperate Pleas from Migrants Trapped in Panama Hotel**

Desperate Pleas from Migrants Trapped in Panama Hotel**
A haunting glimpse into the lives of deported migrants held in Panama's Decapolis Hotel, revealing their harrowing struggles for help and freedom.**
In a striking portrayal of human desperation, migrants confined within the high-rise Decapolis Hotel in Panama City face dire circumstances after being deported from the United States. This makeshift holding center houses roughly 300 individuals from diverse backgrounds, each barred from leaving their rooms or accessing legal assistance.
Among them, the stories of two women from Cameroon and an Iranian family capture the essence of their predicament. One woman visibly displayed a napkin inscribed with the urgent plea "HELP US." In a shared room, two Iranian families—all converted Christians—huddled together, praying at night, aware of the peril their faith poses in their homeland, where it is deemed a capital offense.
Some migrants wear the unmistakable gray sweatshirts typically seen in U.S. detention facilities, a stark reminder of their previous confinement. Attempts to communicate their fears are met with barriers; thick glass muffles their cries while others resort to frantic signs and gestures to convey their message.
Each night, the ambiance transforms as a young girl timidly emerges into view, her presence a poignant reminder of innocence amidst chaos, as many of these detainees are children. The stark reality contrasts with the illusion of leisure, as two migrants from India sleep with the TV on, yet remain under the watchful eyes of armed guards, unable to experience the world outside their room.
Fear permeates the atmosphere, with many avoiding identification due to concerns about potential repercussions. In one instance, Artemis Ghasemzadeh, a 27-year-old migrant from Iran, defiantly scrawled "Help" on her window in lipstick, a cry for assistance echoing amid the imposed silence.
The plight of the Iranian migrants became clear as they revealed their journey to the U.S. border, fleeing from countries like Afghanistan and China to seek asylum. Unfortunately, their efforts to find refuge have led them to Panama—a limbo dictated by political and legal complexities—where the U.S. has sent them, as other nations refuse their return. Each day spent in this hotel adds layers to their torment and indignity, trapped in a cycle of uncertainty and fear for their lives.