Aimal Halim has lived in Nevada for 15 years, first as a refugee from Afghanistan, now as a U.S. citizen.
He helps newly arrived refugees adjust to life in America as a business outreach specialist at the Northern Nevada International Center (NNIC). But behind his calm demeanor, lies a heavier burden.
After becoming a U.S. citizen, Halim decided to sponsor his mother for a green card. His mother is currently in Pakistan, waiting for an interview that could allow her to reunite with her son. Halim said they’ve lived in limbo for years.
“It's been a roller coaster. It's been a very, very hard process. I actually started to file for my mom and sponsor her in 2019 when COVID hit, so that kind of delayed the process. And then my mom was about two weeks away from coming to the U.S. to get her interview done. And then in August 2021, Afghanistan collapsed,” Halim said.
While Halim’s situation involves a separate visa process, it reflects the uncertainty and delays many refugee families are now facing.
“I have a couple cousins that work for the American troops, and their cases were further ahead and they were processed. They just had to go through an interview, either in Doha, Qatar, or Pakistan. And their program is stalled right now. They cannot come here until further notice,” Halim said.
That pause comes amid a nationwide freeze in refugee resettlement funding, delays that are being felt in Reno.
The Northern Nevada International Center welcomed 468 refugees in 2024. The center provides continuous support, housing, groceries, a stipend, job opportunities, and language classes. But executive director Carina Black said that mission has become harder to fulfill.

In January, the Trump administration issued an executive order suspending all refugee admissions. Days later, the State Department terminated its agreements with resettlement agencies and nonprofits. This action has led to multiple lawsuits from refugee advocacy groups, and states.
“On Jan. 24 when it was all shut down and we had a stop work order, we were supposed to just let those people go and have zero support. So luckily, we have funding from other pockets, which are funded by Health and Human Services. So we transferred all those funds and the manpower to help those folks and make sure that they could still get basic services,” Black said.
The money for December and January was released to them in March. But Black is uncertain about the coming months.
“It's all designed to create a lot of chaos. For resettlement, we have about 25 different buckets of funds, and some we know have been terminated, but most of them are just kind of in limbo, and we don't know what's going to happen to them,” Black said.
The uncertainty is draining, especially for a small organization juggling real human needs, she said.
“For us to maintain our global leadership, to keep America safe, strong and more prosperous, which is what the Secretary of State wants us to do. That is what refugee resettlement actually does, because we show that we as a country care that there are individuals who have their human rights abused, who are being killed, who are being our victims of war,” Black said.
The cuts also affected the center.
“The most significant thing we have done is we have had to eliminate some positions where we know the funding is completely gone. So for example, there's a program called Matching Grant, which is for highly skilled refugees to kind of enter them into a workforce development program. That funding is gone,” Black said.

Halim remains hopeful about his mother and the future of the refugee resettlement program. He is proud to be a successful example of how resettlement contributes to American society, he said.
“My hope is that they continue to support the mission of NNIC. It's a great organization. All the people who resettled here since 2016 from what I know, especially the Afghan community, almost every single one of them, at least one person in the family are working right now. I mean, they have made amazing progress,” Halim said.
The center continues to help refugees in northern Nevada, but with fewer staff and a lot of uncertainty about funding.