Finding refuge in Toronto

Three refugees from Kenya, Nigeria and Uganda share their stories about fleeing their countries for safety in Canada.

Elvia Malagón is a Pulitzer Center Richard C. Longworth Media Fellow.

As images of makeshift beds cramped into police districts spread across Chicago last summer, Toronto was grappling with its own shelter crisis for newly arrived refugee claimants.

Many spent their first days in Canada – often after traveling by plane from across the globe – sleeping on flattened cardboard boxes along city streets while others stayed inside bustling airports unsure of what to do.

“I have pains on my ribs because of the cold, sleeping on the dirt floor. It’s terrible,” said David in a video recorded by Miracle Arena For All Nations church last summer.

David arrived in Toronto from Nigeria in June 2023. He was among the many refugee claimants who found a city with few shelter beds.

Here are the stories of three who navigated the system in Toronto.

‘NO ONE GUIDED US’

From the outside, a home along a cul-de-sac in Brampton, just northwest of Toronto, looks like a typical suburban house.

That home has become a refuge for a 37-year-old woman who fled Kenya because of her sexual orientation. She and her other nine roommates – all refugee claimants – take turns cleaning, making communal meals.

The woman – who asked not to be identified because of what happened to her in Kenya – has started to set down roots. But less than a year ago, when she arrived, her life was filled with instability and uncertainty.

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“When you come, you come very frustrated,” she said. “You come very depressed, and you want somewhere you can go and relax — as in, like, your mind will be at peace.”

Her journey to flee her native Kenya started in October 2022, when she was attacked because of her sexual orientation. Her mother took in her 14-year-old daughter while she waited for a visa to travel to Canada.

“In Kenya, when they find out that you are bisexual or that you are LGBTQ, some people disappear,” she said. “You’ll never get to see them or if you get to see them, they’ll be dead.”

When she arrived alone in Toronto, she didn’t know the city had shelter beds for refugees.

“No one guided us,” she said.

She ended up at Pilgrim Feast Tabernacles, where she stayed with hundreds of others for about two months.

At the makeshift church shelter, the woman and many others slept on mattresses before they were able to bring in beds. She later moved into the Brampton house with nine other people from the shelter, though some later moved out.

The group became her support system after her mother unexpectedly died in February in Kenya. Unable to return there, the friends she made at the shelter collected donations so she could send money back home.

“They came through for me,” she said. “They came with candles for her. They also contributed something for me.”

After securing a work permit, she was able to get a job at a bakery 90 minutes away. She estimates she makes about $2,000 a month, with $750 going toward rent.

She and six of the roommates were planning to move into a 3-bedroom home where her share of the rent will decrease to $500.

She sometimes feels frustrated and sad as she processes living in a new place, what happened to her in Kenya and being separated from her daughter. But she said she also feels hopeful for the possibility of bringing her daughter to Toronto one day.

“I will be very happy knowing that I will have my freedom, and I will live peacefully,” she said. “And I know at some point, my daughter will come and we’ll be a happy family.”

‘YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO DO NEXT’

When Jade landed in Toronto, she didn’t know what to do, what to say or where to go. So she stayed at the airport for a week.

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Jade , 27

“I am so, so tired, I am so hungry, I’m thirsty,” Jade said, recalling her first week in Canada. “I didn’t know no one. It was really bad. Just being there at the airport, you don’t know what you are going to do next. You’re scared of asking because I was scared — I’m like what if someone says I’m trying to do something?”

In her native Uganda, the 27-year-old helped campaign for a political party that opposed the longtime president.

“Seeing one president over and over again, and you don’t see a change in the policies,” she said. “You don’t feel confident in what is going on with the ruling party.”

After two people in the movement were taken, possibly kidnapped, Jade said she knew she had to leave the country.

“If you’re in the opposing party, you know what is going to happen,” she said. “If it happened to someone, you could be next. I didn’t have to wait for it to happen to me.”

In September, she flew from Uganda, landing in Montreal before flying to Toronto, declaring she was seeking refugee status in Canada.

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Jade , 27

She stayed at Toronto Pearson Airport for about a week before following another woman who heard there were shelter beds available at Miracle Arena For All Nations, a church that created a makeshift shelter in suburban Vaughan, just outside of Toronto.

Jade and others were originally sleeping on cots in a spare building on the sprawling ranch-like church property, and they later transitioned to heated trailers.

Since then, Jade has called a small lower bunk bed home. The women’s heated trailer has four bunk beds and one single bed. Jade lines her bed with blankets for privacy, and she keeps a donated sewing machine next to her bed. She’s spent time making colorful aprons she hopes to sell.

Jade has a work permit, but she’s had a hard time finding work. The lack of public transportation has made it difficult, she said. Jade doesn’t want to leave the shelter until she has a steady income.

“If I don’t have a job, how am I going to pay?” she said. “I feel like it’s wiser to find a job so I can move.”

‘I FEEL VERY SAFE’

David fled Nigeria last spring after facing harassment and threats over his political activism.

He had become an organizer for the Labour Party and often held meetings at his home until he started to face harassment. Nigeria’s leaders are part of a different political party.

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David , 53

“I became a threat to them because of the mobilization I was doing,” David said. “After I had a lot of attacks on my home, on my family, I thought I’m not safe anymore and my family’s not safe.”

In 2021, he applied for a visa to enter Canada. After flying to Toronto last June, he declared to officials that he wanted to seek asylum. David was among those who initially sought shelter outside of Toronto’s intake center at 129 Peter St., but he ended up sleeping on the city streets for about three weeks while shelters remained full.

Miracle Arena For All Nations church members found David on the street, and they helped him find temporary housing. He moved to a shelter in Oshawa before finding an apartment in the same suburb with seven other people.

For now, he can’t afford an apartment by himself.

David, 53, has a work permit pending the outcome of his immigration case. Still, he has found it difficult to find a full-time job. He was able to get a seasonal job at a warehouse.

He and his other roommates split the rent of $4,000 a month, meaning his share adds up to about $500 each month. He uses food banks to help get by.

David said the country has been accommodating and friendly. He feels hopeful about his future and being reunited with his family one day.

“I feel very safe and secure,” he said about living in Canada. “Because we don’t have harassment of any kind – not from police as long as you are not into crime, you are not fighting, you are not being dishonest. We’re definitely going to live well and live properly in Canada.”

The Democracy Solutions Project is a collaboration among WBEZ, the Chicago Sun-Times and the University of Chicago’s Center for Effective Government, with funding support from the Pulitzer Center. Our goal is to help our community of listeners and readers engage with the democratic functions in their lives and cast an informed ballot in the November 2024 election.

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