A couple of years ago, Mufalo Chitam was completely overwhelmed.

The executive director of the Maine Immigrants’ Rights Coalition was scrambling to help asylum seekers find hotel rooms or couches to sleep on. She was on the phone with city officials, the state government, anyone who might be able to help.

A 179-bed asylum shelter opened at 166 Riverside Industrial Parkway last fall. Brianna Soukup/Staff Photographer

She remembers the day – May 5, 2022 – when the city of Portland announced it could no longer guarantee shelter to asylum seekers. People kept coming, but there was nowhere for them to go.

The city temporarily opened up a shelter at the Portland Expo, while others lined up outside the city’s homeless shelter.

Chitam and her organization were able to secure federal funding to put people up in hotels, but that money dried up by the end of 2023.

When the city said the following summer that it had reached its capacity to help, staff temporarily reopened a shelter at the Portland Expo, while other asylum seekers lined up outside the city’s homeless shelter.

Now, more than two years after the start of a second influx of asylum seekers in the city reached a fever pitch, Chitam says she can finally breathe. Things feel under control.

“We have systems now to support people, and we didn’t develop those overnight, but they’re here now so we can handle things better,” she said.

MORE CAPACITY 

Portland stopped recording how many asylum seekers were arriving in July 2023 because officials didn’t think they could reliably keep track, city spokesperson said.

Between January and July that year, more than 1,600 asylum seekers had been recorded in the city. In 2019, it was estimated that there were approximately 3,000 asylum seekers in the state. At one point that year, 200 asylum seekers arrived in the city over a long weekend.

There are no truly accurate ways to track the number of asylum seekers in the state.

Even when municipalities are tracking the number of people presenting at General Assistance offices for support, there are other asylum seekers who don’t apply, or who apply but then leave the state. There are myriad paths people can take once they arrive in Maine.

Since Portland announced that it was at capacity, fewer people have been presenting at the city’s General Assistance office, though a city spokesperson said the city doesn’t have exact figures.

Mufalo Chitam, executive director of the Maine Immigrants’ Rights Coalition Brianna Soukup/Staff Photographer

That’s likely because they know Portland is no longer a reliable place to find housing as an asylum seeker. But those working with these groups say it feels like they are still serving a steady stream of people.

“The numbers haven’t slowed a whole lot” said Aaron Geyer, the city’s director of social services.

The biggest difference, he said, is that the city has more capacity.

Although temporary shelters at the Expo Center and Salvation Army have closed and asylum seekers are no longer receiving vouchers to live in Portland hotels, there are more options.

For one thing, Chitam said, the immigrant community has grown; when one person is able to find permanent housing, that opens up more couches and basements and guest rooms where those who have just arrived can stay temporarily.

The city said that its family shelter has remained full all year, exclusively serving asylum seekers. Though the shelter is designed to serve any families who need it, Jessica Grondin, a spokesperson for the city, said only asylum seekers have been served recently.

Other groups – including nonprofits like CommonSpace, State Street Shelter and HOPE Acts – are running small private shelters that cater to asylum seekers. Some churches in Portland offer beds, too.

But what may have had the biggest impact was the opening of the 179-bed asylum shelter at 166 Riverside Industrial Parkway last fall. It’s currently run by the city, but next July, the Maine Immigrants’ Rights Coalition will take over operations. They already provide the food with a special focus on healthy, culturally appropriate food, to help people feel more at home.

“When you go there now it feels like community,” Chitam said. “There’s something about getting to a place and being like ‘Oh, you’re speaking my language, you’re eating my food.’ ”

GETTING ADJUSTED 

Since it opened on Nov. 30, the new shelter has served 334 people, Geyer said. Of those, 134 have moved into permanent housing, and their beds were immediately filled.

Geyer said that the shelter is fully staffed and community partners are often there teaching English and offering legal assistance.

He said one of the most beneficial programs has been the city’s resettlement team, which acts as a liaison with landlords. The team members help make sure renters understand the terms of their lease and how to pay rent on time.

One concern though, said Chitam, is that women staying at the Riverside shelter are getting pregnant and the appropriate services aren’t always available to support them.

“We try to help as much as we can, but we don’t have much unique support around that,” she said.

She said the shelter provides educational materials and contraception, but there is only so much they can do.

“Life is going to happen,” she said.

Chitam said language barriers remain a real obstacle, too. Particularly when it comes to filling out paperwork to formally seek asylum and receive a work permit.

Catherine Lindgren, a senior project attorney with the Immigrant Legal Advocacy Project in Portland, said the process is long, complicated and unforgiving. It’s recommended that asylum seekers work with immigration lawyers to navigate the system, but the cost is often prohibitive, and there aren’t enough immigration lawyers in the city to take on all the cases.

Anelca Kialanda, 36, an asylum seeker from Angola stands in the men’s dormitory at the new shelter for asylum seekers in Portland. Ben McCanna/Staff Photographer

Lindgren started a new program last year that helps asylum seekers fill out their applications for free. The process usually takes 75 to 100 hours to file an application for asylum and there are too many clients for one lawyer to work with each client from start to finish, she said, but they offer educational events, one-time consultations and support with whatever parts of the application they can so people can get at least a little bit of support through the complicated process.

“Not only is the system incredibly complex, but it’s also extremely unforgiving. Mistakes can’t be easily corrected,” Lindgren said, adding that a single mistake can mean that applicant is forever prohibited from immigrating to the United States.

It’s part of the reason she started the program. She saw asylum seekers getting support from neighbors and community members who, though well intentioned, weren’t lawyers. The results were sometimes disastrous.

“We saw that if we didn’t, there would be a void and we know that when there is a void it can be filled with something bad,” she said.

CHALLENGES 

While things are more stable now, Chitam said employment is one worrying trend. She’s seen more asylum seekers struggling to find work or being laid off from their jobs.

She’s not sure of the reason for this shift, but said it can be devastating to a population that desperately wants to work.

“We attribute some of it to people’s English levels, but we don’t know for sure why this is happening,” she said.

Another big change is President Biden’s June 5 proclamation that anyone who doesn’t enter the United States through a formal point of entry will be deported. Advocates in Portland say they anticipate a slowdown in arrivals because of this new policy, which requires that people make an appointment to enter the country through an app, sometimes waiting months at the border.

And with the election coming up, Chitam said, things could change even more.

But for now, as long as people are arriving in Portland, she said the city is better equipped to help them than it was a few years ago.

“We did not have systems to support an overnight arrival of a bunch of families a few years ago,” Chitam said. “Now we have those systems, because we built them.”