- Norway’s UDI warns that 25-month wait times are only guides rather than guaranteed processing schedules.
- Over 5,637 applicants await permanent residence permits as the agency processes cases from late 2024.
- A multi-billion IT modernization project won’t be fully operational until 2031, leaving current applicants in limbo.
(NORWAY) — Norway’s immigration agency kept warning on April 9, 2026 that its published UDI wait times are “guides” rather than guarantees, as foreigners facing delays of up to 25 months said the system had become impossible to plan around.
Official figures from the Norwegian Directorate of Immigration, or UDI, showed on March 19, 2026 that family immigration applications were taking 25 months and that 5,637 people were waiting in the queue for permanent residence permits. In March 2026, the agency said it was only beginning to process family immigration cases submitted in July–September 2024.
That gap between published timelines and lived experience has fed anger among applicants trying to reunite with spouses, secure work rights and move into permanent status. The debate has centered on UDI wait times and whether applicants can trust the estimates the agency posts online.
UDI has said its waiting times are not promises. The agency describes them as “guides,” a distinction that has taken on more weight as queues have stretched and applicants have tried to map out jobs, housing and family life around cases that move slowly.
The backlog comes as Norway pours money into a longer-term fix. The government has committed NOK 2 billion to a six-year IT modernization program, but official statements say the system will not be fully operational until 2031.
That means the relief many applicants want now is still years away. Until then, people seeking family reunification or permanent residence remain tied to a process that, by UDI’s own timeline, is still working through cases filed nearly two years ago.
The strain is sharpest for families. A 25-month wait for family immigration can leave spouses unable to work or access certain social benefits, putting household plans on hold while they wait for a decision.
Those pressures have turned a bureaucratic issue into a day-to-day one. A delayed family immigration case can affect where a couple lives, whether a spouse can earn an income and when a family can begin building residence time toward permanent status.
The phrase “It’s a joke” has circulated in complaints about Norway’s immigration delays, and identical language has surfaced in U.S. immigration debates in early 2026 as officials and lawmakers argued over backlogs, enforcement and accountability.
On January 22, 2026, Rep. Ilhan Omar criticized the Department of Homeland Security during a House floor debate on a $64.4 billion funding bill. “It’s a joke. Real accountability means that they follow what the laws of this country are. They are moving the goalposts every single minute.”
Her remarks focused on shifting standards inside DHS. They also echoed a broader complaint heard from applicants in different systems: that rules and timelines can move faster than people can adjust their lives.
Less than two weeks later, White House border czar Tom Homan used the same words in a different fight. Speaking on February 4, 2026 about local resistance to federal immigration operations in Minneapolis during Operation Metro Surge, Homan said, “It’s a joke. The only people you are hurting is your own community. the mission of mass deportations continues.”
The U.S. comparison does not rest on the same legal system or the same visa categories. What links the two debates is the language of delay, uncertainty and distrust that applicants and officials alike have brought into public discussion.
In the United States, policy changes in the first quarter of 2026 added to that uncertainty. Under Policy Memorandum PM-602-0194, issued on Jan 2, 2026, U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services imposed an immediate adjudicative hold on some applications from an expanded list of “high-risk” countries.
That move left some applicants in prolonged limbo. People from high-risk regions have reported waits of 18–24 months for work permit renewals, disrupting employment and making it harder to maintain legal stability while cases sit without resolution.
Critics have described the hold-and-review system as a ‘black hole’ because applicants often receive limited case updates once their files are placed on hold. The feeling of being unable to get answers has become one of the most common complaints tied to the new policy.
Other U.S. programs have shifted too. On December 12, 2025, DHS announced the termination of categorical family reunification parole programs for seven countries, including Colombia and El Salvador.
A federal court stayed part of that termination on January 24, 2026, in Svitlana Doe v. Noem. Even with the court order, processing has remained in unstable limbo for people trying to use or preserve those pathways.
Visa caps have tightened other channels. USCIS confirmed on March 31, 2026, that the FY 2027 H-1B cap had been reached, and H-2B petitions for the second half of FY 2026 were met by March 20, 2026.
At the same time, DHS Secretary Kristi Noem announced in April 2026 that Temporary Protected Status for Yemen would end, effective 60 days from the Federal Register notice. The announcement added another policy shift to a year already marked by abrupt changes in immigration processing and protection.
Norway’s bottleneck is different in form but familiar in effect. Applicants trying to interpret UDI’s waiting time guide still have to live with the possibility that a posted estimate will not match the real pace of decisions.
That mismatch matters because immigration timelines shape ordinary milestones. Couples weigh whether to sign leases, leave jobs, have children or move across borders while a case remains pending. A number on a website can become the timetable for an entire household.
For applicants in Norway, the published UDI wait times have become less a countdown than a rough signal. The official queue figures and the March 2026 processing window showed that family immigration applicants who filed in July–September 2024 were only then starting to come under review.
The same official data showed how wide the queue remains for permanent residence. With 5,637 people waiting, applicants face not only long delays but also uncertainty about how fast the line is actually moving from one month to the next.
Modernization is the government’s answer, but it is a distant one. The NOK 2 billion investment spreads across six years, and the system is not expected to be fully operational until 2031, leaving current applicants dependent on a framework that officials are still trying to rebuild.
In the United States, similar frustration has played out through policy memoranda and public clashes over enforcement. Applicants and advocates track updates through the USCIS newsroom and DHS press releases, but posted changes do not always resolve what happens to individual cases already caught in the queue.
That gap between official notice and personal consequence helps explain why the phrase “It’s a joke” has gained traction across very different immigration disputes. In one setting, it describes the gulf between a wait-time estimate and a real decision date. In another, it targets shifting standards, enforcement priorities or a hold that stops a case from moving at all.
The politics are different, but the practical effect can look similar. People wait, often without a clear end point, while agencies tell them to monitor guidance, check online updates and be patient.
Norway’s immigration agency has not promised more than guidance, and its own numbers show why. When family immigration takes 25 months, when permanent residence has 5,637 people in line, and when full IT modernization sits out at 2031, the posted timelines serve less as a clock than as a warning.
That is why the debate over UDI wait times has grown sharper by April 9, 2026. For families in Norway and applicants watching U.S. policy swings from afar, the complaint is no longer abstract. A timeline that cannot be trusted leaves people planning their lives around uncertainty.