With the Trump administration set to terminate Temporary Protected Status for South Sudanese nationals on Jan. 5, hundreds of long-term U.S. residents face possible deportation to a country suffering famine, violence and political collapse. Many TPS beneficiaries have lived, worked and raised families in states such as Maine and Virginia and say they have few realistic legal paths to remain. Advocates warn asylum backlogs, limited visa options and tightened refugee admissions leave almost no alternatives. Community leaders describe panic and mounting fear as families prepare for an uncertain future.
TPS Expiration Could Force Hundreds Of South Sudanese In U.S. Back To Famine And Conflict
Alex Lomong stands in front of the Iwo Jima Memorial in Arlington, Va., in the suit he wore for his asylum interview. (Courtesy Alex Lomong)
Alex Lomong carries many identities: a Virginia resident, a former decorated Division I athlete for Ohio State University’s track team and a middle-distance runner whose times put him within reach of the U.S. Olympic trials. He is also an immigrant from South Sudan who has lived in the United States under Temporary Protected Status (TPS). With the Trump administration planning to terminate TPS for South Sudanese nationals on Jan. 5, Lomong is among hundreds facing an uncertain future.
What TPS Means—and What’s Changing
TPS grants temporary legal status to nationals of countries the U.S. deems unsafe for return. South Sudan received TPS in 2011 after it became an independent nation. For many families, TPS has been renewed multiple times and has been the only legal mechanism allowing them to live and work in the United States.
On-the-ground Impact
“Ever since I’ve been here, this is the only home I knew,” Lomong, 28, told NBC News. Born in a village in what is now South Sudan, he fled with his mother to Kenya in 2003 and arrived in the U.S. in 2009 on a student visa. If TPS ends, he and many others could be forced to return to a nation beset by famine, political instability and mass displacement. Lomong described the prospect as "basically like a suicide mission."
Alex Lomong, right, was a Division I athlete at Ohio State University. (Courtesy Alex Lomong)
Communities And Contributions
Many South Sudanese TPS holders have built deep roots in states such as Maine and Virginia, contributing to local economies and civic life. They have opened grocery stores, founded churches and nonprofits, and led community programs. John Ochira, former president of the South Sudanese Community Association of Maine, said arrivals who came as refugees and later received TPS have helped revitalize local neighborhoods and services.
Humanitarian And Security Concerns
South Sudan continues to suffer from violence, political dysfunction and economic collapse. The United Nations has warned of widespread hunger and food insecurity affecting millions. In October, the Commission on Human Rights in South Sudan warned that corruption and crisis are fueling increased armed violence and worsening human rights conditions. The U.S. State Department recently issued a Level 4 travel advisory—"Do not travel to South Sudan for any reason"—citing unrest, crime, kidnapping and landmines.
Legal Options And Barriers
TPS allows beneficiaries to live and work legally in the U.S. for temporary periods, but it does not provide a direct pathway to permanent residency or citizenship. Advocates say realistic alternatives are scarce: asylum backlogs can take eight to ten years, employment- and family-based visas are often unavailable or difficult to secure, and refugee admissions have been restricted under recent policy changes.
Lomong hopes to compete in the Olympics someday. (Courtesy Alex Lomong)
"There are very limited options for folks," said Ruben Torres of the Maine Immigrants' Rights Coalition. "Under normal circumstances, some TPS holders might switch to asylum or another visa category, but those avenues are largely closed right now."
Community Response
Religious leaders, lawyers and local organizations report widespread fear and confusion. Reverend Matthew Long of Portland’s Sudanese Fellowship Presbyterian Church said many in his congregation panicked and struggled to access affordable legal representation. Immigration attorneys warn that losing TPS could separate families and force returns to insecure conditions where basic services and safety are not guaranteed.
“You have people who have been relying on that status for at least 14 years, who have paid their taxes, worked, built lives here, and contributed to the U.S. economy,” said Mariam Masumi, an immigration lawyer who represents TPS holders in Virginia.
Personal Stakes
Despite the threat of deportation, Lomong continues to pursue his athletic aspirations and hopes for a stable life in the U.S. He described the situation as feeling like "pawns in a big chess game" without control over their future. For many TPS holders, the termination decision raises urgent questions about safety, family unity and the ability to remain part of communities where they have long contributed.
Note: This article was originally published on NBCNews.com and has been edited for clarity, structure and readability.
