For decades, refugees have been part of the rhythm of Twin Falls, a small town in southern Idaho. These new residents were displaced from the most polluted parts of the world – Bosnia, the Democratic Republic of Congo and Myanmar – and have worked to rebuild their lives by finding work in factories, singing in church choirs and loading shopping carts in supermarkets.
It’s a story as old as the nation itself: a city thrives with the support of newcomers grateful to be there. There have been some ugly tensions in the past, but refugees in Twin Falls have helped turn the area into a dairy industry juggernaut. They renovated houses and filled classrooms. The city’s children play together in parks, schoolyards and sports fields.
“No matter where you come from, the opportunity to achieve the American dream exists in Twin Falls, as cliché as that may sound,” said Shawn Barigar, the city’s economic development director. “The refugee population, however tiny, is an important part of our prosperity.”
But as the Trump administration shakes up the immigration system, refugee resettlement is currently being overhauled. President Trump, who was elected partly because of his anti-immigrant views, has said that refugees pose a security risk, drain public coffers and undermine American values.
On his first day in the White House, Mr. Trump suspended the U.S. refugee program. A few weeks later, his government announced that it would make an exception and admit only one group: Africans or white South Africans.
In October, the government set new targets for the refugee program and said it would accept just 7,500 refugees next year – the lowest number in the program’s history. (Former President Joseph R. Biden Jr. set the 2024 cap at 125,000.)
And the overwhelming majority of them, the government says, are African.
That means Twin Falls, which typically takes in 200 to 350 refugees per year, would have to experience an adjustment. Currently, a total of 37 refugees, all Africans, have settled in Twin Falls since May.
What does this mean for the future of the city?
Idaho has been a leader in refugee resettlement for decades and has a strong team of volunteers and employers in Boise and Twin Falls to welcome and integrate them.
Under the resettlement program, refugees must undergo extensive vetting before being cleared to enter the United States and are often forced to wait abroad for years. When they arrive, they are supported by nonprofit contractors such as the U.S. Committee for Refugees and Immigrants in Twin Falls, who provide temporary housing, enroll children in school and provide cash for start-up costs.
It’s not just benevolence. Refugees are critical to businesses here in Idaho’s Magic Valley, which has become an agricultural powerhouse.
The economy around Twin Falls is dominated by the largest yogurt factory in the world, Chobani. But there are also large companies like Clif Bar and outposts of global companies like Glanbia Nutritionals, a milk processor.
And across the board is a vast network of dairy farms, cheese and whey producers, potato and beef factories, and food science laboratories that Chobani founder Hamdi Ulukaya has called “the Silicon Valley of food innovation.”
The labor market is tight, the unemployment rate is around 3.5 percent. “We have a desperate shortage of workers at every level in this area,” said Daragh Maccabee, chief executive of Idaho Milk Products. which, like many companies in the region, is in the middle of a major expansion phase.
“The refugee program has been a source of motivated, skilled talent,” Mr. Maccabee said. “I fear the impact that the loss of this valuable resource will have on the economy and the community.”
On a recent morning, Nijaz Heric, a security officer at Idaho Milk, patrolled the high-tech milk processing plant with a practiced eye.
In the 1990s, Mr. Heric and his family were among the first Muslim Bosnians resettled in Twin Falls to escape war and ethnic cleansing. He had no money, no English, just the hope of a fresh start. His first job was making cheese.
“I tried to explain with my hands that I wanted a job,” he recalled.
In the 2000s, persecuted minority groups arrived from Myanmar and Bhutan, followed by people displaced by wars in Africa and the Middle East, often after languishing in refugee camps for years.
The low cost of living coupled with good wages enabled many refugees to rise into the middle class. Often their children, who grew up in the United States, became students and professionals.
Not everything went smoothly. In 2016, during Trump’s first presidential campaign, Twin Falls was under siege. Far-right media outlets, including Breitbart, seized and distorted a story about a sexual abuse case involving teenagers. The media falsely claimed that a little girl was repeatedly raped at knifepoint by Syrian refugees.
Police officials attempted to debunk the reports by explaining that the crime was not a gang rape and that the perpetrators were youths who were not Syrian and did not carry knives.
But militia groups from outside attacked the city. Some people threatened city officials and called for an end to refugee resettlement on the grounds that “all refugees must be criminals,” recalled Matthew Hicks, the police chief.
As hostility increased, city officials formed civic groups to introduce refugees to residents. That helped ease the tension. And the same goes for the flow of the news cycle.
Today the tensions come from above. In December, Samuel Nzapalaha sat in the living room of his four-bedroom home, his family by his side.
He bought this house two years ago for $385,000 and paid $50,000.
It was a sign of his success in Twin Falls after he arrived in 2016 with his wife, Josephine Mirindi, and their five children. The family had fled the armed conflict in the Democratic Republic of Congo. At first, Mr. Nzapalaha worked two jobs, at a cheesemaker and at the local refugee agency, while attending a local college. Within a year, the couple was able to afford their first house.
Mr. Nzapalaha now works as a case manager at a substance abuse center. His wife works at Chobani labeling yogurt cups and makes $23 an hour. Your children are working or attending college or high school.
Their story, he said, stands in stark contrast to the president’s narrative that refugees are ruining America.
“We work hard; we buy things; we contribute,” Mr Nzapalaha said.
As for opening the door to Africans, he described them as “so-called refugees.”
In May, Twin Falls welcomed nine of the first 59 Africans admitted to the United States in 2025.
They were quiet, the neighbors shrugged and said they didn’t really know them.
In June, an African couple stood on the lawn in front of their house in a middle-class neighborhood. The woman praised President Trump before her husband said they didn’t want to talk.
It is unclear whether additional Africans will settle in Twin Falls in addition to those who have already arrived. The political climate is tense, and many in Twin Falls have been reluctant to speak, including employees of nonprofits that support refugees and companies that rely on them for their work.
Even Chobani, who has been a vocal advocate for refugees, did not respond to requests for comment.
But a handful of South Africans cannot meet the labor needs of these companies. A $500 million expansion of the Chobani plant tied to the acquisition of La Colombe Coffee in 2023 is expected to begin operations in 2026. Idaho Milk Products plans to open an ice cream factory again this year.
“If we don’t let refugees in, we will stagnate,” said Jim Jones, the former Republican attorney general of Idaho who has publicly criticized the Trump administration’s refugee policies.
“Refugees are everywhere in dairies, in maintenance,” said Mr. Jones, who was born and raised in the area. “They do hard work that locals believe is beneath them.”
Kirsten Noyes contributed to the research.