Diawara, who is from Mali, spent nearly half his life in the United States. He came on a tourist visa at 32, later sought refugee protection and received a work permit after a judge ruled in 2012 that he could not be deported to Mali. He has no criminal record, according to the account of his case. His wife, Barbara, is a registered nurse, and their children, Corey, 16, and Chloe, 12, are U.S. citizens.

After his July 31 arrival in Ghana, Diawara says, he and other deportees were held in a hotel by armed guards and could not call their families or lawyers. He said local officials took him to Mali within days, leaving him without money or identification. He later escaped to another country with help from truckers and asked that its name not be disclosed because he fears for his safety.

“I still say to myself, ‘This isn’t real,’” Diawara said. He believes U.S. officials knew he would end up in Mali, pointing to a medical form and Department of Homeland Security bag tags that listed Mali as the destination. DHS’s top lawyer, James Percival, said Diawara was flown to Ghana and could not explain why the paperwork listed Mali. The department later called the tags contractor-produced and the medical form a clerical error. Ghana’s government declined to comment.

DHS said Ghana had provided diplomatic assurances about Diawara’s safety and questioned the basis of his fear of persecution. Percival said he was not aware of cases in which Ghana had sent deportees onward against their will. He argued that some people may choose to return to their home countries or may be sent back under foreign governments’ own procedures.

The case highlights a central risk of the Trump administration’s third-country deportation program: people barred by U.S. judges from being sent to their home countries may still end up there after removal to another nation. A federal judge’s order withholding removal does not prevent deportation to every country, but it prohibits sending someone to a place where they would likely face persecution or torture.

Diawara was one of 63 people aboard a deportation flight that left Texas on July 30, stopped in Sierra Leone and the Central African Republic, and landed in Ghana. Of 19 people interviewed about what happened after they arrived, 17 said they were sent against their will to countries U.S. judges had ruled they should not be returned to, including Mali, Niger, Nigeria, Gambia and Guinea.

The administration has sent about 25,000 people to dozens of third countries, which receive U.S. aid or other benefits, according to the account. A report commissioned by Senate Foreign Relations Committee Democrats criticized the program as costly and said it could damage U.S. interests. Sen. Jeanne Shaheen, the committee’s ranking Democrat, said the deals put taxpayer money in the hands of foreign governments while disregarding human consequences and potentially weakening diplomatic relationships.

Immigration attorney Meredyth Yoon said the U.S. had been warned about Ghana’s conduct in a lawsuit last year, yet sent 10 more deportation flights there. She argued the practice violates international law. DHS disputes the criticism of its program and says it is carrying out immigration laws and addressing public-safety concerns.

In September, a federal appeals court upheld a ruling that found the administration’s third-country deportation policy unlawful because it denied deportees due process. The Supreme Court has allowed the deportations to continue while it considers the case, with a hearing expected in December.

Diawara’s attorney, Reuben S. Kerben, has asked a federal judge in Washington, D.C., to order his return to the United States. In Texas, his family is waiting. “It feels really empty without him,” his son Corey said.