108 Days Apart: A Wife’s Fight to Free Her Husband From Delaney Hall

Latif Hafraoui rarely talks about the 108 days he spent in immigration detention, most of it at Delaney Hall in Newark, New Jersey. He and his wife, Sandra, say they want to forget the fear and anxiety she felt, and the horrors he experienced.

“These guys don’t go by the book of law. They treat immigrants like animals, like we have no rights,” Latif told The Marshall Project. “It was like torture.”

“We’re trying to not remember it and to heal from it,” Sandra said.

The New Jersey couple — she is American, he is Moroccan — had been married 15 years and were headed to Florida when immigration agents detained him at the airport in August 2025. He was locked up at Delaney Hall, the immigrant detention facility currently at the center of opposition against President Donald Trump’s mass deportation program.

Protests erupted outside the facility in May after detained immigrants began a hunger and labor strike over poor conditions inside, including rotten food and inadequate medical care. In an email, the Department of Homeland Security told The Marshall Project the detainees’ claims are false and the hunger strike has ended. The problems there have been longstanding. A year ago, Newark Mayor Ras Baraka was arrested while trying to inspect the facility.

U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement detained Latif on an old deportation order he didn’t know existed, he said. An immigration notice went to the wrong address. He missed a court date, and a judge ordered him deported in absentia 16 years ago.

The same judge reversed the deportation order while Hafraoui was in detention, Sandra said.

Held for nearly four months, at Delaney Hall and at facilities in Louisiana and Arizona, Latif says he witnessed guards physically abuse detainees. He spent 10 harrowing days in solitary confinement after he refused to be deported, according to his account and an ICE document. The Department of Homeland Security didn’t immediately respond to a request for comment on the allegations.

Sandra remembers one of their last visits, this time at an ICE facility in nearby Elizabeth, New Jersey, before he was moved again to Delaney Hall: “He was so traumatized, so terrorized. I thought, ‘My god, what did they do to him?’”

Photographer Corrie Aune documented the Hafraouis’ time apart, and their reunion, for The Marshall Project.

The asphalt parking lot outside Delaney Hall where children play while waiting to visit family members inside. Often, they wait hours to enter the facility. Corrie Aune

Sandra embraces Sally Pillay, an immigration activist who volunteers outside the Delaney Hall ICE detention center. Pillay helps provide food, winter clothing and emotional support to families visiting the facility. Corrie Aune

Families leave Delaney Hall after visiting loved ones. Sandra said she watched her husband’s physical and mental state deteriorate in ICE detention. Corrie Aune

At her home in Bayonne, New Jersey, Sandra holds a notecard with a handwritten Bible verse. The cards lined her countertops, bedside table, bathroom mirror and car dashboard. She said the verses gave her strength when she began to feel that her husband would never be released. Corrie Aune

Sandra prepares to leave home to visit Latif at Delaney Hall. Around her, family photos line the walls. Corrie Aune

Olive oil in the shape of a cross anoints the bed frame at Sandra and Latif’s apartment. Sandra, who is Christian, painted these crosses throughout her home. “When I’m afraid, these crosses remind me of God’s presence,” she said. Corrie Aune

Sandra drives home after visiting Latif. Most nights while he was detained, she struggled to sleep more than a few hours. Corrie Aune

Sandra walks through Midtown Manhattan to attend Latif’s bond hearing over Zoom with their lawyer. She picked up a habit of smoking electronic cigarettes to calm her anxiety since Latif’s arrest. “I know this is terrible for me,” she said, laughing. “Latif will hate it when he finds out. But I need something to help me calm down.” Corrie Aune

In the lawyer’s office before Latif’s bond hearing, Sandra holds her Bible verse notecards in her hands and prays quietly. She sweats and has trouble breathing. Corrie Aune

In the street after the postponed hearing, Sandra called her friend Monica. “They didn’t let him out,” she told her. “They didn’t let him out.” A few minutes later, Latif calls Sandra from Delaney Hall. After answering the phone, Sandra begins to weep. Corrie Aune

One week later, the rescheduled bond hearing is successful. With the help of immigrant rights organizations, the $15,000 bond is posted, and Latif is released to go home, where a banner welcomes him. Corrie Aune

Sandra and Latif at home, surrounded by the balloons and signs that Sandra bought before Latif was released. They are facing a pile of debt now, Sandra says. Corrie Aune

Sandra wears a necklace with a photo of her and Latif. The couple fell in love in a New York City bodega, when she was driving for a black car service and he worked behind the store’s counter. Corrie Aune

Two weeks after his release, Latif said he still feels tension in his arms and chest. He is unable to sleep through the night. At Delaney Hall, guards would wake him many times, yelling loud announcements, turning on bright lights and making impromptu headcounts. He lost hope he would ever return home to Sandra. Corrie Aune

The couple has applied for Latif’s green card, as the spouse of a U.S. citizen. He wore an ankle monitor for three months until ICE agreed to remove it. Corrie Aune

“When the guards told me I was being released, all the other guys started cheering for me and coming to hug me,” said Latif. “I think they see me as a hope.” Corrie Aune

The Bible verses that Sandra clutched tightly in her hands during Latif’s bond hearing. “I feel such a great relief that he’s home now,” said Sandra. “But I also feel a sadness that I can’t shake.” Corrie Aune

In February, Latif celebrated his 61st birthday surrounded by his wife, friends and the activists who helped secure his release. They are struggling to recover from the immense mental, emotional and financial toll the ordeal has taken. Corrie Aune