As panic set in, two men lashed ladders together with ropes, creating a makeshift bridge over the steel border wall dividing Tijuana from Southern California.

‘I Feel Rage, I Feel Sadness.’ With Border Closed, Migrants Face Few Options.

“Move quickly, keep going!” shouted the smugglers from below. At the top of the precarious structure, a young girl from Zimbabwe hesitated, her wide eyes betraying fear as she contemplated her next step.

On Monday, news spread among those waiting to enter the U.S. that President Trump had canceled all asylum appointments immediately after taking office. His administration was set to implement sweeping executive orders to seal the border.https://svtoday.org/

Despite the announcement, one group made a desperate and dangerous attempt to cross into the U.S. One by one, they climbed the shaky ladder system and slid down the other side. On the ground, others helped catch women and children. However, one woman fell during her descent, landing hard and clutching her leg in agony.

“We’re not doing this because we want to, but because we have no choice,” said Carlos Porras, a 39-year-old from Peru, speaking through the slats of the wall. He had injured his ankle while jumping and was limping. Moments later, U.S. Border Patrol officers arrived and took the group into custody.

The scene highlighted the desperation of migrants, many of whom learned on Monday that the border was effectively closed. Emotions ranged from shock to heartbreak.

“I feel anger, sadness, everything,” said Katherine Romero, a 36-year-old Venezuelan who had waited for a year in Mexico City for her asylum appointment. She had saved money working various jobs to afford a plane ticket to Tijuana. “I just can’t believe this is happening.”

That evening, President Trump signed a series of executive orders, including a national emergency declaration to deploy the military to the border and policies to block asylum seekers. His administration also abruptly shut down the CBP One app minutes after Trump was sworn in. The app, introduced under the Biden administration, allowed migrants to schedule appointments for asylum. It had facilitated the entry of over 900,000 people since its launch but had drawn criticism from Republicans.

In a migrant camp in Mexico City, Cristian Morillo Romero, a Venezuelan who had been in Mexico for over a year, discovered that his Jan. 26 appointment in Calexico, California, was canceled. A grim email with the subject line “CBP One Appointment Canceled” confirmed the news.

“I want to cry,” said Mr. Morillo Romero, 37, as the reality sank in.

Across the border in Ciudad Juárez, only one group of 100 people was allowed to attend their morning appointments before Mexican officials received a message from their American counterparts: no more appointments would be honored. John Flores Bonalte, a 36-year-old Venezuelan, missed his afternoon slot. “This is unfair,” he said. “We waited legally for so long—seven months in Mexico.”

Others, like José Antonio Zuchite from Honduras, were left stranded. “I don’t have a place to stay or anyone to turn to,” he said, his voice cracking.

On social media, migrants shared emotional posts, describing how long they had waited for asylum appointments—some for over a year. While some hoped for a miracle, others considered relocating to cities like Mexico City for better opportunities. For many, returning to their home countries was not an option.

“Going back to Haiti means going back to death,” said Rose Joseph, 28, who fled her country’s violence two years ago.

Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum urged the Trump administration to introduce a replacement for the CBP One app to restore order. “We need a similar mechanism because it has proven effective,” she stated.

Under the Biden administration, the app was a pivotal tool to manage migration and reduce illegal crossings, coupled with stricter Mexican border enforcement. However, critics argued it enabled migrants to stay in the U.S. for years while their cases lingered in the courts.

Now, without the app, migrants in Mexico face limited options: attempting an illegal crossing, seeking asylum in Mexico, or returning home. For many, including Mexicans fleeing their own country, these alternatives offer little hope.

Francisco González, a pastor who oversees shelters in Ciudad Juárez, anticipated longer stays for migrants as they reassessed their plans. He expressed concern that desperation would drive many to take greater risks by relying on smugglers or criminal organizations.

“They won’t stop trying,” he said.