Life after deportation: Marshall Islands Halfway House proposed

Riem Simon

Microwaves By Jack Niedenthal

Riem Simon spent 13 years in U.S. prisons and now wants to help the rising number of deportees from the U.S. adjust to Marshallese society through a program he has developed:

 “Welcome to the Marshall Islands Halfway House, a place built not just with walls and rules, but with the belief that everyone deserves a second chance. Our mission is simple but powerful: to help our deported citizens reclaim their place in society with dignity, structure, and support. We believe in the strength of second chances and the sacred role of culture, faith and family in that process. You belong here.”

Pacific Islands Times: I’ve been interested in this issue for some time. When I was secretary of health, deportees were returning, and the question was raised in one of our department heads’ meetings: “What are we going to do about the deportees? We need a process, both for them and for our community.” But not much has materialized until now. How did you become interested in this current dilemma and why?

Riem Simon: I met this kind federal officer while I was in the U.S. She asked me, “Where are you from?” I said the Marshall Islands. She said she’d seen me helping inmates, Marshallese guys especially, and told me, “You should go back home and help your government deal with the deportee issue.” Her words really got me thinking about what I could do here in the RMI, so I decided to accept her challenge.

Regardless of their crimes, the biggest danger is just dumping deportees into the community, especially those with serious records. Some have murdered. Some are sexual offenders. When they come back to the islands, there’s no support for them and no screening to protect the community.

I’ve been through county jails, state prisons and boot camps in Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Louisiana so I know how to structure these programs and make them work. I’ve submitted plans to the national government, but they haven’t taken me seriously.

PIT: How were you treated as a deportee when you returned to the RMI?

Simon: You have to lay low or you get treated horribly, even by your own family members. We know how it feels to be dropped into Majuro with chains on your ankles and nothing in your hands, with no one to ask us how we are, with no one to guide us, with no one to claim us. 

After I was released, I decided to focus on “the now,” not my past problems. People here criticized me, tried to break me, but I know no one else here can take on this issue like I can. I’d been through halfway house programs. I know what works and what doesn’t. That’s why I came up with my proposal. Most people simply don’t understand deportee challenges.

As a deportee, getting a job is difficult. Without police clearance, they can’t apply for jobs and, without work, they end up homeless or getting back into crime. The government needs a solution and could employ some of these deportees through my program. I know many deportees vote and once they’re back here, their choices matter. Some of their stories—like someone whose wife left him while he was in jail and ended up with his best friend—I’ve been there. The deportees don’t care about much when they return. That’s a problem.

In prison, in order to survive each day, “respect” is required. Respecting fellow inmates and their hierarchy, respecting the guards and prison staff, even if you don’t like some of these people, you learn to be respectful. Then you get out, and everyone on the outside, once they find out you’re an ex-con or a deportee, they treat you like crap.

PIT: So, are there any funding sources for your halfway house plan yet?

Simon: No funding yet, but there are a few places that I still want to try. Funding is essential. I had to use my own resources to write the plan. I don’t know what more I’m supposed to provide for the government to say, “Okay, let’s get to work on this.” There’s a task force, but it hasn’t produced anything worthwhile yet. After three meetings, I told them: “You have bullets but no gun, so what’s the point?” That’s how I felt, like they were just spinning their wheels.

I estimate that, after an initial capital investment, it will cost about $200,000 annually to operate the program. I have it all costed out in detail. My goal is to find the funds and then to launch the program. I made sure that it doesn’t go against the RMI constitution and it doesn’t violate any human rights.

So right now, it’s just a proposal. But deportation is increasing under the new U.S. administration, so there needs to be a ground-level plan, and it must be put into place soon. 

Many deportees are capable. They speak English better than many of our government officials. In the proposal, I included some prison programs I thought were effective, like boot camps to institute discipline. Ours is a 62-day program. We help with resume-building so when the deportees get out of our program they can find work. When you are in rehab you need structure.

I’ve designed the Marshall Islands model to include the transition from arrival to intake housing to supervised living in dorms. We’d pay staff, have an infirmary and a structured schedule: wake-up at 5:30, breakfast, multi-faith morning chapel rotating among the island’s established religions, drug counseling, GED education if needed, and skills and farm work. Up to 30 deportees would live in dorms with bunk beds, shared bathrooms and a structured daily routine. After the 62 days, we would help place them in jobs or in schools. 

PIT: Would participation for the deportees be mandatory? After all, the crimes they committed in the U.S. do not carry over when they land in the RMI; they are free. Wouldn’t there need to be legislation to make your program more successful?

Simon: Yes, as it stands now, our program would have to be voluntary. We would need government to pass legislation to make going through our program mandatory—at a minimum for those who have committed harsher crimes—before reentering our community.

PIT: What about deportees who may have mental health issues, and what about women deportees?

Simon: We’d have separate, secure rooms for people with mental health issues—Dr. Holden from the Ministry of Health is already working on the mental health aspects of our program. Women would have their own unit. Our hope is to build a facility with separate male and female wings, plus an administrative office.

PIT: What would the administrative setup look like under your proposal?

Simon: I’m proposing a structure for the Marshall Islands Halfway House that includes a well-respected board of directors, an administrative director and a consultant/advisor. The Muslim community has discussed the possibility of investing in this plan. They’ve told us there would be no requirement for religious participation—it would be open to all faiths.

Everyone knows what our deportee problems are, but it seems no one wants to face them because they are complicated. Someone has to push. Our goal is to not only provide shelter, but to walk alongside our residents as they rebuild a life rooted in dignity, culture and accountability. But someone has to push.

   For further information regarding this proposal, contact Riem Simon at mihalfwayhouse@gmail.com

Jack Niedenthal is the former secretary of health services for the Marshall Islands, where he has lived and worked for 43 years. He is the author of “For the Good of Mankind, An Oral History of the People of Bikini” and president of Microwave Films, which has produced six award-winning feature films in the Marshallese language. Send feedback to jackniedenthal@gmail.com

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