Dominicans on a Bus in Northern Peru: A Local Interception Exposes a Larger Migratory Puzzle

On July 1, 2025, Peruvian police officers in the border city of Tumbes stopped a bus operated by a formal transportation company and found something unusual: 52 undocumented migrants on board — including several from the Dominican Republic.

 

The passengers, mostly adults from Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, and — in a surprise twist — the Dominican Republic, were headed south through the Peruvian territory without proper entry documentation. The bus, operated by TCR Express, was intercepted at its terminal in central Tumbes, and both the ticket vendor and the driver were detained.

 

As a journalist based in Sullana, a city in northern Peru and one of the closest urban centers to the Ecuadorian border, I have long observed how border dynamics shape daily life here. But the appearance of Dominicans in this case, along with the formal nature of the transport service and the legal seriousness of the charges, opened up a far broader question:
Are we seeing a new migratory corridor taking shape across South America — one that includes the Caribbean?

 

A Long Way from Home: Dominicans Headed South?

The Mona Passage — a dangerous sea crossing from the Dominican Republic to Puerto Rico — has long served as the primary exit route for Dominicans seeking to eventually reach the United States. But in recent years, especially under Trump-era immigration crackdowns, that route has become heavily patrolled and legally riskier.

 

As María José Martínez, a Venezuelan journalist now based in Mexico City, recently shared with me, this pressure has likely pushed many Caribbean migrants to explore alternative overland routes through South America.

 

One such route: enter Venezuela, cross Colombia and Ecuador, and reach Peru by land — perhaps as a midpoint before continuing southward toward Chile, Argentina, or Brazil. The fact that Dominicans are now being intercepted at Peru’s northern border lends credence to that theory.

 

A Coordinated Response on the Ground

The operation in Tumbes was led by Peru National Police’s Lieutenant Francisco Alexander Fernández Julca, head of the regional State Security Unit. Alongside nine officers, he carried out the inspection as part of an identity control initiative, “Control de Identidad Tumbes-2025.”

 

The presence of three prosecutors from the local Specialized Anti-Trafficking Unit (FISTRAP) — Roberto Villacorta Domínguez, Iris Riojas Farroñán, and Mariela Cabrera Gonzales — marked a shift in how these operations are being treated. No longer just about undocumented migration, this case is being investigated as possible human trafficking.

 

A defense lawyer from the Tumbes Bar Association was present during the seizure of documents, and the bus was formally impounded. The company’s office, where tickets had been sold, was also subject to an official search.

 

The Porous Border Between Tumbes and Piura

This isn’t an isolated incident. Living in Sullana, I am just two hours south of El Alamor, the main formal border crossing between Peru and Ecuador. Expelled migrants often cross through there — only to return days later via illegal footpaths in Zarumilla (Tumbes) or remote areas of Piura.

 

Despite the presence of border police and migration officers, Peru’s northern frontier remains porous, especially in areas where terrain or limited state presence makes enforcement difficult.

 

In recent months, I’ve received several police reports confirming that migrants expelled via El Alamor often reappear deeper in Peru, having simply used “trochas” (unofficial trails) to slip back into the country.

 

The Bus That Opened a Window

This bus — full of foreign nationals, operating out of a legal company, and under investigation for human trafficking — may seem like just one more incident in a complex border region. But for those of us who live here, it feels different.

 

It may be the clearest sign yet that migration routes across South America are shifting, involving not just Venezuelans and Colombians, but now Dominicans and potentially other Caribbean nationalities. It suggests a growing criminal infrastructure, one that blends formal and informal channels and exploits the weak seams in our regional cooperation.

 

As journalists, we don’t always expect the bigger story to arrive in a single report or police bulletin. But sometimes, it does — like a bus, fully loaded, ready to depart for the unknown.