The Temporary Protected Status for Guineans, Liberians, and Sierra Leoneans in the U.S. is at Stake—Here's Why You Should Care

Nana Brantuo pens why a push is much needed for an extension of TPS for Guinean, Liberian, and Sierra Leonean nationals in the U.S.

December 2013 marked the beginning of the most widespread epidemic of the Ebola virus in history.

Starting in Guinea and rapidly moving to Sierra Leone and Liberia, the virus caused significant death over the next three years with a fatality rate reported to be as high as 70 percent. As the epidemic continued to cause disruption and havoc, nationals of these countries residing in the United States supported from the sidelines by sending remittances and resources to family back home in hopes of providing as much relief as possible.

A portion of these nationals not only had to bear the pain of watching their nations suffer and nearly crumble under the weight of the unanticipated epidemic, they also had to navigate our society as undocumented immigrants with the fear of detention and deportation looming over their heads. However, despite the fear and anxiety, they continued to support themselves and their family during this period of substantial disruption.

When the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) announced the designation of Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for Guinean, Liberian, and Sierra Leoneans nationals, our community was able to breathe with less tension and more ease. As noted within the Immigration and Nationality Act, TPS may be designated by the Attorney General for any foreign state if:

the Attorney General finds that...there has been an earthquake, flood, drought, epidemic, or other environmental disaster in the state resulting in a substantial, but temporary, disruption of living conditions in the area affected.

Once granted, TPS beneficiaries are eligible to remain in the United States, may not be removed, are authorized to work and to obtain Employment Authorization Documents (EADs), are eligible for the use of the Healthcare Marketplace in accordance with the Affordable Care Act, and in some states, eligible for in-state tuition.

True to its title, this form of humanitarian relief is to be brief, but in the case of Guinea, Liberia, and Sierra Leone, the briefness of the designation brings into question the ethics and equity of the DHS' decisions that impact thousands of people living in the United States. Originally set to expire in May 2016, the Secretary of Homeland Security Jeh Johnson extended the designation for an additional 6 months—the shortest and first of its kind in the history of TPS.

A mere 6 months, as opposed to the 18-month extensions and redesignations granted to El Salvadorian, Honduran, Nicaraguan, and Syrian nationals living in the United States. A mere six months, despite the World Health Organization’s declaration of the region being Ebola free in June 2016, following several wrongful declarations.

Decisions to re-designate and extend TPS are typically announced two months before the expiration date set by the DHS. Now, a week before what is the two month mark, the silence from the DHS is deafening and nerve wrecking—raising questions among African immigrants, their respective communities and advocacy organizations on the genuineness of the DHS’ claim of TPS being granted as a form of humanitarian relief. This lifeline, though temporary, is necessary for thousands of Guinean, Liberian, and Sierra Leonean nationals, many of whom are awaiting anxiously for news that they will be able to walk the streets without fear of deportation.

I write this as a second generation West African immigrant of Ghanaian, Sierra Leonean, and Guinean heritage. I write this with the utmost love and respect for my people following an extended period of undignified media coverage that mapped disease and chaos onto our black, African bodies, dehumanizing and demonizing us as the vessel of an unwanted “African” disease. I write this as an advocate for and ally of those of my people who are living in this country, undocumented but undeniably a part of the fabric of this nation. I urge the U.S. government (the DHS in particular), to acknowledge the substantial, temporary disruptions of living conditions in Guinea, Liberia, and Sierra Leone and re-authorize TPS for these countries in the spirit of equity and humanitarianism.

Out of the 28,657 cases of Ebola, 11,325 died from the virus.

Just remember the previous Ebola outbreaks in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, Sudan, Gabon, Uganda, and the Republic of the Congo to know that the threat of the virus’ return is not out of reach.

With the outbreak of Ebola, the fragile state of the health care systems of all nations worsened. The low number of medical professionals, health facilities, and equipment needed to effectively combat the epidemic undoubtedly played a role in the prolonging its presence. In addition to Ebola, endemic and infectious diseases such as yellow fever, malaria, cholera, etc. continued to impact the region.

In 2009, Guinea had only 1,826 physicians for a population of 10.6 million. Similarly in 2009, Liberia had a total of 90 physicians for a population of 3.8 million. In 2010, Sierra Leone had 136 physicians for a population of 5.8 million. The CDC also notes that “...Liberia lost 8 percent of its doctors, nurses, and midwives to Ebola; Sierra Leone and Guinea lost 7 percent and 1 percent of their healthcare workers, respectively.”

The economic impact included a $2.2 billion loss in GDP for the three countries. Mobility and trade restrictions (in attempts to halt the spread of the virus) also negatively impacted trade, tourism, agriculture, and mining industries, contributing to the loss in gross domestic product. Food prices also continue to rise following the start of the epidemic.

Nearly 20 perecnt of all Ebola cases occurred in children under the age of 15 and an estimated 17,300 children were orphaned as a result of the epidemic. The intensity of the epidemic interrupted schooling for students in all three countries and “by the time the schools reopened in 2015, students had lost approximately 1,848 hours of education due to school closures, ranging from around 33 weeks in Guinea to 39 weeks in Sierra Leone.”

As the epidemic in its aftermath continues to impact the health care infrastructure, educational system, and economic structure and development of Guinea, Liberia, and Sierra Leone, it is imperative for the United States government to recognize the potential negative impact of large influxes of nationals returning. I urge you all to email and call your local congressperson to request that they sign on a dear colleague letter (authored by Representatives Donald Payne Jr., Jose Serrano and Yvette Clarke) for redesignation and TPS extension for Guinea, Liberia, and Sierra Leone. I urge you all to tweet Secretary of Homeland Security Jeh Johnson at the handle @DHSgov demanding that TPS is redesignated and extended for the region.

It is my hope that we, the people of this nation, realize and actualize our collective power by pushing for the redesignation of TPS for immigrants from Guinea, Liberia, and Sierra Leone. I believe that we can make a difference. I believe we can win this and future battles to come.

Nana Brantuo is an educator, researcher, blogger and writer born and raised in the Washington Metropolitan area. A doctoral student at the University of Maryland, College Park and an alumna of Howard University, she centers her academic interests on the mobility, migration, and educational experiences and trajectories of African and African descendant peoples.

Her academic work has taken her to various states and countries around the world—with her most recent travels taking her to Cuba and Haiti. She was a 2016 UCLA Dream Summer Fellow working with the Black Alliance for Just Immigration to develop and implement workshops and trainings focused on the Black immigrant presence in the United States. Keep up with her on Twitter and Instagram.

Cover of Isha Sesay's 'Beneath the Tamarind Tree'

'Beneath the Tamarind Tree'—an Excerpt From Isha Sesay's Book About Remembering the Chibok Girls

Read an exclusive excerpt from the Sierra Leonean reporter's new book, which offers firsthand accounts of what happened to the girls while in Boko Haram captivity in an attempt to make the world remember.

Below is an excerpt from the seventh chapter in Sierra-Leonean journalist and author Isha Sesay's new book, "Beneath the Tamarind Tree," the "first definitive account" of what took place on the ground following the abduction of 276 schoolgirls by Boko Haram in 2014.

Continue on to read more, and revisit our interview with the reporter about why it's important for the world to remember the girls' stories, here.


"We should burn these girls!"

"No, let's take them with us!"

"Why not leave them here?"

The men were still arguing, dozens of them trading verbal blows while Saa and the other horrified girls looked on. None of the men seemed particularly troubled by the fact that the lives of almost three hundred schoolgirls hung in the balance. Amid all the yelling, the girls had been divided into groups. Each batch would burn in a different room in the school buildings that were aflame just a few feet away. Tensions were escalating when a slim man with outsize eyes suddenly appeared. Saa had never seen him before. Like many of the insurgents, he too looked young and was just as scruffy. But when he spoke, tempers seemed to cool for a moment.

"Ah! What are you trying to do?"

"We wanted to burn them!"

"Why not take them with us, since we have an empty vehicle?"

His suggestion triggered a fresh round of quarreling. The same positions were expressed, and the newcomer continued to calmly repeat his idea of taking the girls with them, till he finally got his way. The girls later discovered his name was Mallam Abba. He was a commander.

"Follow us!" the men shouted.

None of it made any sense to Saa. Why? To where? As the insurgents shuffled her out of the compound, she felt as if her whole life were on fire. All Saa could see was the ominous orange glow of flames consuming every one of her school buildings. With every step, the fears within her grew. She struggled to make sense of the competing thoughts throbbing in her head. This isn't supposed to be happening. The insurgents had asked about the boys and the brick-making machine; they'd systematically emptied the school store, carrying bag after bag of foodstuffs and loading all of it into the huge waiting truck. With everything now packed away, Saa had thought the insurgents would simply let the girls go home. After all, that's what had happened during their previous attacks on schools—they'd always let the schoolgirls go, after handing out a warning to abandon their education and strict instructions to get married. Saa had simply expected the same thing to happen once more, not this.

She scanned the crowd of faces surrounding her; the creased brows and startled expressions of the others made it clear that everyone was equally confused. Whatever the turmoil they were feeling, they kept it to themselves. No one said a word. Saa fell into a sort of orderly scrum with the men corralling and motioning her forward with their guns, each weapon held high and pointed straight at the girls.

Saa and Blessing moved in unison, along with the hundreds of others, snaking along in the dark through the open compound gate, past the small guard post usually occupied by Mr. Jida, which now sat empty. Yelling came from nearby Chibok town. Saa could smell burning, then heard the sound of gunshots and people running. It was bedlam.

Just beyond the compound walls sat a crowd of bushes. As she and the men moved out into the open, Saa felt their thorns spring forward, eager to pull at her clothing and scratch and pierce her body. Careful not to yell out in pain, she tried to keep her clothes beyond the reach of the grasping thicket with no time to pause and examine what might be broken skin.

Saa retreated into herself and turned to the faith that had anchored her entire life. Lord, am I going to die tonight, or will I survive? Desperate to live, unspoken prayers filled her mind and she pleaded, repeatedly, God save me.

She was still praying as they walked down the dirt path away from the flaming school. The shabby-looking men with their wild eyes gave no explanation or directions. They simply motioned with their heads and the sweep of their rifles, making it clear to keep moving. As the reality began to sink in, Saa felt her chest tightening. Her heart was going to beat its way out of her body. But she couldn't allow herself to cry or make any sound. Any kind of display would make her a target, and who knew what these men might do?

The insurgents walked alongside, behind, and in front of her; they were everywhere. Every time Saa looked around, their menacing forms filled her view. Initially, all the girls were steered away from the main road and onto a rambling path overgrown with bushes; the detour was likely made in an attempt to avoid detection.

Parents lining up for reunion with daughters (c) Adam Dobby


This excerpt was published with permission from the author. 'Beneath the Tamarind Tree' is available now.

Wizkid in "Ghetto Love"

The 12 Songs You Need to Hear This Week

Featuring Wizkid, Stonebwoy x Teni, Thabsie, Sampa the Great and a classic Funána compilation.

Every week, we highlight the cream of the crop in music through our Best Music of the Week column.

Here's our round up of the best tracks and music videos that came across our desks, which you can also check out in our Songs You Need to Hear This Week playlists on Spotify and Apple Music.

Follow our SONGS YOU NEED TO HEAR THIS WEEK playlist on Spotify here and Apple Music here.

Check out all of OkayAfrica's new playlists on Spotify and Apple Music.

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South Africa has Ruled that Spanking Children is Now Unconstitutional

The judgement was unanimous.

Back in 2017, the South African High Court ruled that it was illegal for parents or guardians to spank their children i.e. use corporal punishment in the home setting. The ruling arose after a father allegedly beat his 13-year-old son "in a manner that exceeded the bounds of reasonable chastisement". Today, the Constitutional Court has upheld the High Court's 2017 ruling and declared that the spanking of children is a violation of the constitution.

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Nigerian Women Have Taken to the Streets to March Against the Serial Killing of Women

"The women in Port Harcourt no longer feel safe," the protesters say.

Hundreds of Nigerian women have taken to the streets in protest of the the spate of murders that have taken the lives of eight women in various Port Harcourt hotels thus far. Dressed in in black clothing and holding placards denouncing the femicide in a scene quite similar to the protests led by South African women last week, Nigerian women are demanding that the police as well as the government do more to protect the women living in Part Harcourt especially. The BBC reports that the police have arrested two individuals who are thought to be suspects in the killings.

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