The young woman, Artemis Ghasemzadeh, became the face of migrants deported by the United States to Panama. She was confined in a hotel, detained in a camp in the Darién jungle, and left stranded in a country where she knew no one and spoke no language. She later lent her name to a congressional bill aimed at providing greater protection for asylum seekers fleeing religious persecution.

The 28‑year‑old Iranian Christian convert has now secured a new home in Canada. In June, the Canadian government granted her asylum, bringing her nearly two‑year flight from religious persecution in Iran and the Trump administration’s immigration crackdown to a hopeful end.

Ms. Ghasemzadeh arrived on Denman Island near Vancouver in early July with few possessions beyond her clothing. She described her heart as “filled with gratitude and hope for a new beginning.” In a telephone interview she said, “I’m still kind of in shock. I can’t believe I’m really here and this is not a dream. I can finally say the struggle is over.”

She left Iran for Mexico in December 2024 with her brother, Shahin, also a Christian convert, and crossed the U.S. southern border by climbing over a wall. Border patrol officers apprehended them and transferred the siblings to detention facilities, separating them. In February 2025 she was shackled and placed on a U.S. military aircraft bound for Panama.

That flight marked the Trump administration’s first experiment deporting migrants to a third country—a nation where they hold no citizenship. Since then, similar third‑country deportations have sent individuals to at least 18 countries, including Costa Rica, El Salvador and the Central African Republic. Despite its strong opposition to Iran’s government, the administration has cooperated with Iran to send at least two deportation flights directly to that nation.

For Ms. Ghasemzadeh, being sent back to Iran was terrifying. Iranian law treats apostasy—leaving Islam for another faith—as blasphemy, punishable by death. While Christians born into the faith may practice openly, converts worship in secret underground churches and prayer groups to avoid persecution.

“I wanted to live freely, to live without fear, to live without someone wanting to kill me,” she said in a 2025 interview.

After the deportees arrived in Panama, they were locked in a hotel in Panama City and later moved in the middle of the night to a migrant detention camp in the Darién jungle, where they were held for weeks. Ms. Ghasemzadeh played a pivotal role in exposing their plight. She created a viral social‑media video and, using a smuggled cellphone, provided updates to The New York Times. The coverage attracted attention from Christian advocacy groups and rights activists, leading a team of high‑profile immigration lawyers to take the case pro bono and secure the detainees’ release from the jungle camp.

Facing lawsuits and international outcry, Panama granted the deportees 90‑day humanitarian visas. Many eventually left, but Ms. Ghasemzadeh remained in Panama City, learning Spanish, finding a church, making friends and working as a dental hygienist while she pursued a legal pathway to North America. She hoped to reunite with her brother, who had been granted asylum in the United States and now lives in Texas.

In May 2025, Representative Yassamin Ansari, an Iranian‑American Democrat from Arizona, introduced the “Artemis Act.” The legislation seeks to bar the expedited removal of individuals fleeing countries designated by the State Department as persecuting religious minorities and to guarantee them the opportunity to claim asylum in U.S. immigration court. The bill garnered broad Democratic support but encountered Republican opposition, as the GOP holds a majority in the House.

Lawyers told Ms. Ghasemzadeh that the odds of the United States reversing its decision and allowing her return were slim given the current political climate.

Resettling in Canada presented its own hurdles. The nation operates a refugee quota and requires a Canadian citizen to sponsor applications. Ms. Ghasemzadeh had no contacts in Canada.

While staying in Panama City, she built a life there, finding a church, learning Spanish, making friends and working as a dental hygienist.

Ian and Naomi Elliot, a retired couple who run programs for Afghan refugees on Denman Island, read a profile of Ms. Ghasemzadeh in The Times and decided to sponsor her asylum application. The Elliots, who had previously helped an Afghan and an Ethiopian secure Canadian asylum, were moved by her story. “I couldn’t sleep after reading the article. I thought this is a Christian sister who shares our faith and is paying a massive price for this belief,” said Mr. Elliot, 68, a community leader at their local church. They spent months contacting Canadian officials, refugee agencies and lawyers across three countries, praying nightly for her. However, Canada’s privately sponsored refugee quota for 2025 was already filled, and a long waiting list blocked their efforts.

Shortly before Christmas, a unexpected call came from City of Refugees, an agency that resettles persecuted Christians in Canada. The agency had a cancellation and could offer the spot to Ms. Ghasemzadeh. They gave Mr. Elliot 48 hours to submit paperwork, find a church sponsor and raise $25,000. The first two tasks were manageable, but the money proved difficult to procure quickly. He contacted an American lawyer in Texas who had assisted Ms. Ghasemzadeh’s brother; though they had never met, the lawyer wired the required amount to Mr. Elliot’s account.

With only days to prepare, Ms. Ghasemzadeh said she felt relief at the prospect of not being displaced again. “I can finally get my own place and not live in shelters. I want to go to university and study dental hygiene or dentistry, and then travel freely without fear,” she recalled.

The Elliots prepared for her arrival, furnishing her future bedroom with a desk, chair, mirror, a green plant, fresh sheets and curtains. They also bought her a bathing suit for summer on the island.

“Big hearts make a huge difference. It all worked out like a miracle,” said Naomi Elliot, 65, whose family history includes Holocaust survival and Canadian immigration.

On the day she arrived, the Elliots drove to the nearby airport with excitement, while Naomi stayed home to prepare a feast. They brought flowers, gifts and signs reading “Welcome Artemis” in English and Persian. When she arrived, Ms. Ghasemzadeh rushed to Mr. Elliot and embraced him tightly. “Thank you for saving my life,” she told him. Both wept.

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