Maria Bonilla kept her May 8 appointment with immigration officials in Atlanta, just as she had every few months for the past decade. By nightfall, the 41 year old Gainesville resident was in federal custody at Stewart Detention Center. Nineteen days later, she was on a plane to El Salvador, leaving behind four American children and the only life she’d known since age 17.
Quick Timeline: The Bonilla Case
2001: Maria enters U.S. from El Salvador at age 17
2003-2010: Has four children, all U.S. citizens
2015-2025: Reports regularly to ICE as required
May 8, 2025: Detained at Atlanta Immigration Court
May 27, 2025: Deported to El Salvador
Current: Family pursuing VAWA petition, raised $8,305 on GoFundMe
The Morning That Changed Everything
Magali Bonilla, 21, accompanied her mother to the Atlanta Immigration Court that Wednesday morning, along with her older sister Araceli, 22. They’d done this routine before. Their mother couldn’t read or write, so the daughters always came along to help with paperwork.
“They were taking her fingerprints and DNA, and shortly after, we got separated,” Magali told reporters days later, still processing what had happened.
The problem? A missing passport. Immigration officials said Maria needed her physical passport for the appointment, not just photos of it. The family’s attorney had told them otherwise. That disconnect between legal advice and ICE requirements triggered a chain of events that would tear their family apart.
A Life Built in Georgia
Maria Bonilla crossed into the United States from El Salvador in 2001. Poverty had denied her an education back home. She never learned to read or write. But in Georgia, she found work at the Gold Creek poultry plant in Gainesville, obtained work authorization, and built a stable life.
Her four children were all born here: Araceli, now 22; Magali, 21; Henrin, 17; and Tatiana, 15. Church members knew her as someone who organized youth soccer teams. Neighbors saw her heading to work early mornings, sometimes juggling two jobs to pay the bills.
For a decade, she reported to ICE as required. She had one past run in with law enforcement: a conviction for driving without a license. Otherwise, her record was clean. She paid taxes. She showed up when told. She followed the rules.
Inside Stewart Detention Center
The Stewart Detention Center in Lumpkin, Georgia, houses nearly 2,000 immigration detainees. CoreCivic, a private prison company, runs the facility under contract with ICE. Maria Bonilla spent her final 19 days in America there.
Fellow detainees helped Maria contact attorneys, since she couldn’t read the forms or instructions herself. Her daughters visited through glass partitions, speaking through phones that barely worked.
“She was being treated like she was a criminal,” Magali said.
A 2022 Department of Homeland Security inspection documented serious problems at Stewart:
- Medical staff weren’t conducting proper sick calls
- The grievance system was “deficient”
- Communication between staff and detainees failed basic standards
- High risk and low risk detainees were housed together
The facility’s location, hours from Atlanta, makes finding legal representation nearly impossible for most detainees. Attorneys report waiting hours for brief visits in cramped rooms with broken equipment.
New Policies, Aggressive Enforcement
Maria’s detention came just months after President Trump returned to office in January 2025. Her May 8 appointment was her first ICE check in under the new administration.
Two major policy changes shaped her fate:
The One Big Beautiful Bill Act
Congress passed OBBBA on July 4, 2025, authorizing:
- $45 billion for detention facility expansion
- $32 billion for deportation operations
- Indefinite family detention provisions
- Elimination of previous spending restrictions
Parental Rights Rollback
The administration scrapped the 2022 ICE Parental Interests Directive, which had protected parents of U.S. citizen children from deportation in most cases. The new 2025 Detained Parents Directive removed those protections entirely. Being a mother to four Americans no longer mattered.
Immigration attorneys say these changes created what they call a “compliance trap.” People reporting for routine appointments, trying to follow the law, became easy enforcement targets. Maria wasn’t hiding from authorities. She was sitting in their office when they detained her.
Deportation Day: May 27, 2025
Federal agents put Maria Bonilla on a plane to El Salvador on May 27, 2025. She hadn’t seen the country since she was a teenager. At 41, she returned to the same poverty she’d fled, now without family, connections, or the ability to read street signs or documents.
Her deportation order had existed for years, the family later revealed. But previous administrations hadn’t enforced it. She’d been allowed to work, to check in regularly, to raise her children. The paperwork error on May 8 simply gave ICE the opening to execute an order that had been dormant for a decade.
Four American Children, One Missing Mother
Henrin Bonilla graduated from high school in late May. His mother watched his sisters graduate in previous years. She missed his.
“It did not feel real,” Magali said about the ceremony.
The family’s finances collapsed immediately. Magali dropped out of nursing school for the semester, picking up extra work shifts to help support Henrin and Tatiana. The teenager works retail now instead of studying for her nursing exams.
A GoFundMe campaign raised $8,305 from 141 donors, but that won’t last long with four kids to support. The American Immigration Council reports families typically lose 70 percent of their income within six months of a parent’s deportation.
Legal Options Running Out
The Bonilla family hired new attorneys to pursue a visa application under the Violence Against Women Act. They’re arguing that separating Maria from her children constitutes extreme cruelty. Immigration lawyers call it a long shot that could take years and cost tens of thousands of dollars.
Most attorneys wouldn’t take the case. Maria’s existing deportation order made her virtually impossible to defend. The GoFundMe page notes that “many lawyers were hesitant to take on Maria’s case due to its complexity and her existing order of deportation.”
The Road Ahead for the Bonillas
The VAWA petition faces major hurdles. Since Maria has already been deported, she would need Form I-212 approval just to reapply for admission to the United States. This discretionary waiver is difficult to obtain, and if approved, she’d still need to prove “extreme cruelty” under VAWA guidelines, a novel legal argument that pushes the boundaries of the statute’s intent for family separation cases.
The children, meanwhile, adapt to their new reality. Henrin approaches his senior year and college applications without his mother’s guidance. Tatiana, at 15, has three more years of high school ahead. Studies from the American Immigration Council show that U.S. citizen children of deported parents experience higher rates of anxiety, depression, and academic struggles that can persist for years.
Life After Deportation
Tatiana Bonilla starts her sophomore year of high school soon. Henrin begins his senior year. Their mother won’t be there for first days of school, college applications, or graduation ceremonies.
Magali works retail shifts when she should be in clinical rotations. Araceli, the oldest at 22, tries to hold everyone together. They video call their mother when El Salvador’s spotty internet allows.
In El Salvador, Maria faces the harsh reality of starting over at 41. Standard procedure for deportees includes processing by authorities, a meal, a health check, and referral to a local health center. After that, they’re on their own. She returns to the same poverty she fled as a teenager, but now without recent connections or familiarity with current conditions. The country’s security situation remains a significant concern, with the notorious CECOT mega-prison exemplifying the harsh security-focused approach that creates a dangerous environment for all, including recent deportees who may be viewed with suspicion.
The True Views has documented similar family separations across Georgia and nationwide. Each case involves parents who worked, paid taxes, and raised American children. Each ends the same way: empty chairs at dinner tables, children becoming caretakers, dreams deferred or abandoned entirely.
Federal Enforcement Priorities
Immigration and Customs Enforcement deported Maria Bonilla for being in the country without legal status, executing a removal order that had existed for years. That’s the legal explanation. The human cost includes four American citizens growing up without their mother, a nursing student stocking shelves instead of studying medicine, and a high school senior filling out college applications alone.
The Gold Creek poultry plant lost a reliable worker. A Gainesville church lost a youth soccer organizer. Most importantly, the Bonilla children lost the person who worked two jobs to keep them fed, housed, and hopeful about their futures.
Government enforcement priorities change with administrations. Families broken by those changing priorities rarely recover. Maria Bonilla’s detention at an Atlanta immigration office and quick deportation to El Salvador reflects current federal policies that prioritize removal over family unity, enforcement over discretion, and old deportation orders over decades of community ties.
