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X. Ontario. 3 years and 3 months, and still waiting.

My name is X, and this is the story of my struggle to wait for permanent residency in Canada—a journey that has left my family and me feeling exhausted and powerless.

In November 2018, I received a postdoctoral offer from the University of [redacted]. It was an exciting opportunity for my family: my partner, our 8-year-old child, and me. We moved to Canada, filled with hope and dreams for our future.

By December 2019, I secured a three-year job offer from a company and successfully applied for a work permit under the Significant Benefit category. The visa officer recognized my extensive work and education experience in Europe and China, approving my work permit based on the significant benefits I could bring to Canada. We felt like our future was on a promising path.

Since our arrival, I have worked tirelessly at the University of [redacted] and [redacted] Inc. Despite the pandemic and multiple lockdowns, I continued to work. I loved my job, and I was passionate about what I did. While many stayed home and received CERB or worked remotely, I continued to work on-site. Even during the university’s closure, when many labs were closed, I didn’t take a break in developing new technologies. I was proud because I knew I was doing my part. I loved science, and I knew that Canada values immigrants for their contributions. I believed that one day I would have the chance to stay here permanently, as this was the only country where I wanted to build a future for my family and myself.

In April 2021, I submitted my Express Entry – Canadian Experience Class (EE-CEC) application and quickly received an AOR confirmation. By June, my eligibility had passed, and I thought I was on the right track. However, in July, my application was flagged for security screening.

Months turned into years. By March 2023, after waiting 20 months with no progress, I felt compelled to file a mandamus application in Federal Court. The process was grueling and costly, but I had no choice.

In June 2023, I received a Procedural Fairness Letter (PFL) from IRCC, questioning my work in Canada as a potential threat to national security. The vague and speculative language—using terms like “would be” and “may”—was baffling and deeply frustrating. My lawyer and I provided a detailed response, clarifying that I had never engaged in any activities of concern and emphasizing the immense impact of these delays on my family.

Despite our efforts, in January 2024, IRCC issued a second PFL with the same unfounded concerns, suspecting that I might be of national security risk, not because of any evidence, but because they assumed I couldn’t help but turn into a spy for China, maybe someday, because I am of Chinese descent.

If this is not racial profiling, making wild assumption about a person based on race and not evidence, then I don’t know what is. My ethnicity has nothing to do with my research, my work, or myself as a person.

I don’t understand why a country like Canada that prides itself for anti-racism and multiculturalism, just labeled me a potential spy, because where I was born? Again, my lawyer responded, highlighting potential racial discrimination in the review process.

The financial and emotional toll has been overwhelming. Legal fees have exceeded $10,000, a significant burden for my family. We have lived in Canada for five and a half years, contributing to the community and economy, but we remain in limbo. I have missed numerous career opportunities because I cannot risk changing jobs, including a job offer with better pay and benefits.

This prolonged process has deeply affected my family. My child, now a teenager, has spent their formative years in Canada, with English as their only primary language. If we go back to China, I’m worried if my child can even survive because they can’t even read or write Chinese. My partner and I constantly stress about our future in a country we have come to love and contribute to.

The psychological toll on our family has been immense. We cannot plan our lives, buy a home, or even feel secure in the place we hoped to call home.
Why is IRCC doing this to us? What did I do wrong? Just because I was born in China?

Despite working continuously in Canada and enduring over three years of security screening, IRCC’s delays and treatment have left my family and me feeling exhausted and powerless. All we want is to be recognized for our contributions and to be able to build our future here, in the country we chose to make our home.

M. Ontario. 2 years 4 months, and waiting.

My name is M, and my journey through the Canadian immigration system has been one filled with frustration and heartbreak, despite my unwavering dedication to this country.

I arrived in Canada eight years ago, full of dreams and aspirations. I pursued a PhD in Chemical Engineering after completing my bachelor’s degree in Automatic Control. I embraced my new life here, working as a teaching assistant during my PhD and then securing a full-time job. I believed that my hard work and contributions would lead to a stable future in Canada, a country I have grown to love.

In January 2022, I submitted my application for the Ontario Immigrant Nominee Program (OINP) under the PhD stream. By July, I received the Ontario Nomination, and in August, I submitted my documents to the Federal government for my Permanent Residency (PR) application. Unfortunately, I missed the switch to electronic submissions by just a month, adding to the bureaucratic complexity.

I received my File Number and Acknowledgment of Receipt (AOR) in January 2023, and by May, I had submitted my medical exam report. However, in July 2023, my application fell into security screening, and that’s when the real challenges began.

The impact on my life has been profound. I had to apply for an additional visa, costing me extra money, just to ensure I could re-enter Canada if needed. In August 2023, knowing my application was under security review, I applied for a bridging work permit. It was approved in December 2023, just in time before my original permit expired. I also had to apply for a visitor visa in December, which was only approved in January 2024.

Despite these hurdles, I remained hopeful and made a significant decision for my future: I bought a property in February 2024. However, without PR, I faced higher costs and more difficulties with the mortgage process. I had to pay an extra $4,000 CAD for the land transfer, a fee usually exempt for first-time home buyers with PR. Moreover, I was not eligible for the new PR mortgage plans, which would have provided better funding options and more freedom in choosing properties.

The delays have also pushed back my timeline for citizenship. If my PR application had been processed smoothly, I would be eligible for Canadian citizenship by now, given my five years of primary residence in Canada. Instead, I am still relying on temporary visas, despite meeting all the criteria for PR.

This journey has taken a severe emotional toll on me. I have worked full-time for over two years and served as a TA during my PhD, with a total Express Entry score of over 520. Despite my contributions, I still feel like an outsider. Adding to the pain, my twin sister, who came to Canada at the same time but did not study engineering, is now a Canadian citizen. She enjoys the freedom and stability I long for. We can’t even plan family trips together because I am still waiting for my visa extension and PR approval after eight years of living here.

My experience reflects a system that, despite claiming to value the contributions of immigrants, often leaves us feeling stuck and undervalued. I love Canada and want to build a future here for myself and my family. Yet, the delays and uncertainty have left me wondering, if the government knows or even cares about the harm it’s doing to ordinary people like us.