Calgary (Rajeev Sharma): What is more painful than silence is the quiet departure of thousands of individuals who once believed Canada would be their new home. These individuals, comprising international students, temporary foreign workers, and refugee claimants, arrived with aspirations of building better lives. Many pursued higher education, worked extended hours, paid taxes, and integrated into communities across the country.
Today, they find themselves compelled to leave, not due to any wrongdoing, but because the system no longer has space for them. The majority are those whose student permits, post-graduation work permits, or temporary work authorizations are expiring without renewal. Others are asylum seekers whose cases have been delayed indefinitely or rejected outright due to mounting backlogs, shifting immigration policies, or changing priorities. These individuals are not undocumented; they followed the legal route in good faith, hoping for stability and a path to permanent residency. However, over the past two years, immigration pathways in Canada have narrowed significantly. Programs that once offered hope, such as the Temporary to Permanent Resident (TR to PR) pathway, open work permit extensions, or provincial nomination options, have either ended or tightened eligibility. Those left out of the system now find themselves with no legal status, no support, and no roadmap. “They don’t inform you to leave, but they also don’t provide a means to stay,” states Gurpreet*, a former student from Punjab who studied in British Columbia. “It’s akin to being erased, silently.” Many of these migrants return home under emotional and financial distress, having spent tens of thousands of dollars on tuition, housing, and legal applications. In numerous cases, they have supported Canada’s aging workforce in vital sectors such as healthcare, transportation, agriculture, and retail roles that maintained essential services during the pandemic. Yet, they are excluded from the very system they helped sustain.
For refugee claimants, the situation is even more precarious. In cities like Toronto, Montreal, and Calgary, the housing crisis and lack of legal aid have further exacerbated their challenges. Some end up homeless, while others are forced to abandon their cases midway due to fear, stigma, or sheer exhaustion. Nevertheless, amid the heartbreak, one thing remains: hope. “They’re not relinquishing their hopes for Canada,” says a community volunteer in Calgary. “They’re merely hoping that the Canada they envisioned will exist again a Canada that values diligence, fairness, and compassion.” Many depart with the hope that one day, if policies shift or new pathways open, they may return through study, family sponsorship, or employer-based streams. Until then, they are part of Canada’s untold migration story not deported, not illegal, just quietly forgotten. It is not the rejections or closed doors that cause the most distress. It is the feeling of being unwanted in a place where one has given their best.
