When faced with no clear path forward, Sam Kang’ethe made a heartbreaking decision: leave the U.S. voluntarily—before Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) arrived to do it for him.
A Life in Limbo
Sam Kang’ethe, a Kenyan father of three, lived in Lansing, Michigan, for over 16 years. He arrived in the U.S. on a student visa, earned a bachelor’s degree in accounting, then went on to complete a master’s in finance from Central Michigan University.
In 2014, he married a U.S. citizen, which initially granted him conditional residency. But instead of being a bridge to stability, that marriage became the source of his deportation risk: an immigration official later ruled it fraudulent. Kang’ethe maintains he never had a criminal record.
Despite legal proceedings, his case was never resolved. A judge never issued a final ruling, yet the administrative determination alone made him “deportable.”
The Moment of Choice
By May 2025, the pressure had become unbearable. ICE had begun aggressively targeting undocumented immigrants—even those without criminal backgrounds.
Kang’ethe recalls his fear of daily routines—dropping kids at school or going to the grocery store—turning into targets for arrest:
“I can’t imagine myself taking my kids to school and then being picked up by ICE.”
Rather than wait, he “resigned” his fate in May and flew back to Kenya under what’s known as self-deportation. He left behind his wife, Latavia, and their three children (ages 13, 11, and 5).
More Than Just a Case Number
Kang’ethe’s story underscores the tension between legal precedent and lived reality. On paper, he had a pending case scheduled for January 2026 to challenge the fraud finding. But in the U.S. immigration system, that barely mattered—ICE’s priorities had already made him a target.
He insists he wasn’t giving up:
“I explain to my family: I’m not abandoning you. I’m leaving to be safe.”
But the costs are steep. The move roils the fabric of his family’s life. Latavia faces being a single parent across continents. The children lose a father’s daily presence. Family income and connections shift abruptly.
A Broader Immigration Moment
Kang’ethe is not alone. Many immigrants now face the choice: self-deport or risk being detained and deported under stricter enforcement.
More than 7,000 people have used the U.S. government’s “self-deport app,” which offers a free one-way ticket home—but that number likely excludes many who depart independently, like Kang’ethe.
His former employer, a beer distribution company in Michigan, described him as reliable and capable, underscoring the fact that Kang’ethe was not a fringe case—but someone contributing to his community.
Looking Ahead
Back in Kenya, Kang’ethe says he is applying for jobs while navigating the emotional toll of separation. His goal: find a way to reunite with his family, possibly in the future—but only on his own terms.
He chooses to frame his decision not as defeat, but as agency:
“I’m not hiding. I want my family to know where I am. If something happens, they can reach me.”