This article was originally published in the State Bar of Texas Immigration Bulletin, Summer 2023, a publication of the Immigration & Nationality Law Section.

In fall of 2011, as a newly practicing lawyer in Austin, fresh off of two clerkships and not long after joining a large law firm where I would focus on high-stakes litigation, I looked around for my first pro bono case. I quickly found American Gateways, an incredible non- profit that provides legal services to low-income immigrants fleeing persecution in their home countries.

I had worked as a paralegal at Atlanta Legal Aid before going to law school and from the day that I decided to go to law school I knew that I would use my law degree to continue to help immigrants in need. I am a first generation American on my father’s side, he immigrated from India to continue his education, and my great-grandparents on my mother’s side immigrated from Poland, Romania, and Lithuania. My grandparents spoke Yiddish as their first language, and I grew up with a deep awareness that had my mother’s Jewish family not been able to come to the United States before World War II, they likely would have died in the Holocaust. My commitment to helping immigrants stems in part from a sense that I must pay forward the opportunities, safety, and security that my family received when they immigrated.

So, in 2012, when American Gateways’ supportive pro bono coordinator encouraged me to take on an asylum case as my first pro bono case as a young lawyer, I said yes. My client, Y.P., was a Honduran woman just five years younger than me who had been in immigration detention in Taylor, Texas for more than six months. Y.P. had endured horrific abuse by her domestic partner in Honduras before she fled to the United States to escape him.

I could not imagine that Y.P. would remain a constant in my life for more than a decade as together we navigated hope, despair, living with profound uncertainty, freedom, moves across the country, the birth of children, changes in jobs, a marriage, and building a future for Y.P.

To meet my client, I scheduled a time to visit her at the detention facility. I had never been to a detention facility, and I was startled to find out that it was essentially prison. I visited Y.P. there many times. Sometimes the guards would make me wait for over an hour, and once they refused to let me bring in my phone or laptop. During these meetings, often through tears, Y.P. told me in painful detail about the abuse she endured, survived, and finally escaped.

After years of abuse — and because police in the worst neighborhoods of San Pedro Sula, Honduras, where she lived, would provide no help to victims of domestic violence — Y.P. braved the risky, and often deadly, overland trip from Honduras, across Guatemala and Mexico, to the U.S. border.

The first time she made the trip, in 2009, she was immediately deported. Her abuser found her when she was returned to Honduras, and the abuse began again. Fearing for her life if she remained in Honduras, she crossed the border again in 2010, nearly dying of dehydration while lost in the desert. Once again, she was caught and deported. Again, her abuser found her, and the abuse worsened. Y.P. knew he would eventually kill her.

She made a third attempt to escape to the U.S. in 2011. She was yet again detained, but she finally told authorities that she feared for her life if she were returned to Honduras. American Gateways told her they would try to place her case with a pro bono lawyer.

I submitted her petition for withholding of removal and then represented her at her hearing in San Antonio in early 2012; she testified via video from the detention facility. Just a month after the hearing, the judge denied Y.P. withholding of removal. He found that she was credible and had suffered abuse that rose to the level of persecution – but found her ineligible for relief on several legal grounds. She and I were both devastated. Another associate at McKool Smith, Kristina Baehr, and I filed the appeal to the Board of Immigration Appeals.

Altogether, Y.P. remained in immigration detention for more than 16 months. The government had set her bond at $7,000 – an insurmountable amount for her. She was working every day in the detention’s laundry facility, but she was paid just $1 a day. While she was in detention, though, Y.P. made friends with a fellow detainee who had family in New York state and was being released on bond to their custody. She told Y.P. that if her bond were lower, she might be able to help her. In September 2012, Y.P.’s bond was lowered to $500. Her friend in New York sent the bond money and agreed to receive Y.P. in New York.

Y.P. was ecstatic — but she didn’t know anyone outside of detention in Texas other than me. None of the refuges in Austin had beds available, and so Y.P. stayed with me and my husband for several days until she could get a flight to New York. When she left Austin, she took my father’s old overcoat so she wouldn’t freeze upon arrival in New York, and she left me with handwritten recipes for her favorite Honduran home cooking.

Once she settled in New York, I applied for her work authorization and she found a job at Pizza Hut. She earned her GED and studied English at the local community college. She learned to drive and got a driver’s license. She joined a church and became a church leader, singing in the choir and helping in support groups for victims of domestic violence. After many years of feeling as though she could never trust a man in her life again, she eventually got married and had a daughter, now 3-years-old. My children are 4 and 6, and Y.P. and I love exchanging pictures and anecdotes about our kids.

But Y.P.’s journey through the U.S. immigration system was far from over. Her appeal remained pending before the BIA for five years. She had to check in with a Bond Officer every several months, and her Bond Officer seemed determined to make her life difficult. After a few years of repeatedly demanding to know why she had not yet been deported, and why she was in New York, he told her he would have her deported. He refused to sign her reporting documents, making it appear as though she had not appeared for her bond check in. My colleague in New York, Jonathan Yim, and I had to initiate a process with the supervising Bond Officer to correct her reporting documents.

In 2017, the BIA remanded the case to the immigration court for reconsideration in light of the changes in the law. The immigration judge denied our motion to change venue to New York. And although I informed the immigration court of my due date, the immigration court set Y.P.’s hearing for less than a month after my daughter was born. Luckily, two more of my amazing colleagues had signed on to help, Mitch Verboncoeur and Rebecca Matsumura, and they represented Y.P. at her second hearing. Unfortunately, between the time of the BIA’s remand and when the case was heard again in 2018, the law again changed under President Trump. The same immigration judge who had previously heard the case quickly reinstated his previous order denying Y.P. relief.

We appealed the ruling and yet again the case remained pending – this time for nearly four years. In 2022, with another new presidential administration and another change in immigration law regarding domestic violence victims, the BIA again remanded the case — but this time the appellate court ordered the immigration judge to meaningfully reassess the case.

Before that could happen, we filed a second motion to transfer to New York. The immigration judge granted the motion this time. We re-briefed the case for a third time before the New York immigration judge. And then – less than a week before the hearing was set – the New York ICE prosecutor agreed to exercise her prosecutorial discretion. And so, the government stipulated to relief and the immigration judge granted withholding of removal.

For more than a decade, Y.P. lived in fear of being sent back to a man who tried to kill her. In March 2023, more than 13 years after her first attempt to flee Honduras, my client could finally feel secure knowing that she could stay safely with her family in this country. We laughed and cried over the phone together, and she is planning a visit to Austin. She is so deeply grateful to be able to stay. And I am so proud that – even when it takes a while – our country provides refuge for those who desperately seek safety from persecution.

I could not have done this alone, of course! Over the years, Y.P.’s legal team included 12 lawyers, including my former colleagues Mitch Verboncoeur and Rebecca Matsumura, three paralegals, two Professors of Political Science expert witnesses, and one LCSW expert witness — all of whom were dedicated to helping Y.P. stay safely and legally in the United States. Our client was incredibly fortunate.

Leah Bhimani Buratti is a partner in Austin’s Botkin Chiarello Calaf (bccaustin.com). Her practice focuses on intellectual property and commercial litigation, including patent infringement, misappropriation of trade secrets, non-competes, and breach of contract matters. She also continues to provide pro bono legal services to asylum seekers. From 2014 until 2023, Leah served on the Board of Directors of American Gateways, a non-profit providing legal services to asylum seekers. She served as Board President from 2020-2022. In 2022, the Austin Bar Foundation honored Leah with the David H. Walter Community Excellence Award in recognition of her commitment to pro bono work. She also received the Access to Justice Award from American Gateways in 2012. For more information about, or to volunteer with, American Gateways, visit americangateways.org. Leah can be reached at leah@bccaustin.com.