Imagine spending nearly a year in immigration detention, only to wake up in a hospital after a terrifying medical emergency, with your loved ones left in the dark about your whereabouts and condition. This is the chilling reality for Leqaa Kordia, a Palestinian activist and the last Columbia University protester still held by ICE. Her story raises alarming questions about the intersection of immigration policy, political activism, and human rights. But here's where it gets even more unsettling: despite her permanent residency approval and deep ties to the U.S., Kordia remains detained, sparking outrage and debate over the government's motives.
On a Friday morning, Kordia found herself in a hospital bed, having been rushed there after reportedly fainting and experiencing a seizure while in ICE custody. For days, her family and legal team were plunged into agony, unaware of her location or whether she was even alive. Her mother’s anguish was palpable: ‘Not knowing what hospital she was in, what her condition was like, whether she was even alive or dead, was agonizing. Like any other mother, I was worried sick,’ she shared in a statement. By Monday, Kordia was discharged—only to be sent straight back to detention. Her loved ones fear her health will continue to deteriorate under these conditions.
And this is the part most people miss: Kordia’s detention isn’t just about immigration status; it’s deeply intertwined with her activism. In 2024, she joined a demonstration outside Columbia University, standing in solidarity with students protesting U.S. universities’ complicity in Israel’s actions in Gaza. Arrested during a police sweep, she was later released without charges. But in 2025, her world turned upside down. Days after DHS detained Mahmoud Khalil, a leader of the Columbia protests, Kordia was lured to an ICE office under the guise of a routine check-in. Instead, she was ambushed, handcuffed, and transported over a thousand miles to a detention center in Texas.
Kordia’s story is personal yet emblematic of broader issues. Born in East Jerusalem, she came to the U.S. in 2016 to reunite with her mother, a U.S. citizen. She studied English, worked as a waitress, and cared for her half-brother, who has autism. Her permanent residency was approved in 2021, but a technical overstay—unintentional, she insists—left her vulnerable. When Israel’s actions in Gaza escalated, Kordia felt compelled to speak out. Today, nearly 200 members of her extended family have been killed in the conflict.
Here’s where it gets controversial: DHS Secretary Kristi Noem justified Kordia’s detention by stating, ‘When you advocate for violence and terrorism, that privilege [of a visa] should be revoked.’ But Kordia’s supporters argue she was targeted for her political activism, not her immigration status. Is this a legitimate enforcement of immigration law, or a chilling crackdown on dissent? And why has she remained detained while others associated with the protests have been released?
Kordia’s case forces us to confront uncomfortable questions: Can activism ever justify indefinite detention? Are immigrants with approved residency applications still at risk of deportation for political speech? As her story continues to unfold, one thing is clear: the stakes are higher than ever. What do you think? Is Kordia’s detention a matter of national security, or a dangerous precedent for silencing dissent? Let’s discuss in the comments.
