3 Results
3.1 What types of problems did Muslim participants experience in the past three years?
Participants reported experiencing a variety of serious legal and systemic problems. Six major categories of problems were identified:
- Islamophobia, discrimination, and harassment (10 out of 13 participants; 76.92%);
- Family issues (3 out of 13 participants; 23.08%);
- Housing issues (3 out of 13 participants; 23.08%);
- Difficulties with navigating Canadian systems/services (3 out of 13 participants; 23.08%);
- Employment issues (2 out of 13 participants; 15.38%); and
- Financial fraud (2 out of 13 participants; 15.38%).
Many of the problems were multifaceted and included more than one of these themes (e.g., discrimination in housing or employment contexts). Most of these challenges were also influenced by aspects of participants’ circumstances and identities, such as their religion, gender, cultural background, financial situation, immigration status, and language ability.
3.1.1 Islamophobia, discrimination, and harassment
Islamophobia, discrimination, and harassment were the issues most frequently reported by participants in this study. Incidents ranged from stereotyping and systemic marginalization to sexual harassment. Participants shared that these events happened in a variety of settings, including at work, at home, at educational institutions, and in public spaces. Participants reported that they were often targeted due to visible markers of identity, such as race and the wearing of religious garments.
For example, a Canadian-born man shared how he and his friends have been on the receiving end of derogatory remarks at the various sporting events they have participated in.
In sports, there’s always trash talk. And then it always goes too far at a certain point. People start bringing in race and stuff. [The area I’m from is] a predominantly white area, and [people] will see the one or two [racialized] kids on the team and start spewing discrimination at them. … Normally I just ignore it because I’m used to it. I don’t really care. But then sometimes, if they say it to my friend… I’ll stand up [to them]. And sometimes that gets ugly. … [A year or two ago], one of the fans [of the team I was playing against] said something like “You dirty Muslim” while I was playing because I think [the other team was] losing or I had scored.
Another participant—a woman who is a Permanent Resident—described an encounter that she identified as racism, which occurred while having her photo taken for a driver’s license.
“[The staff member] insists, ‘I want to see your neck, your ears, your forehead from here.’ … I told her, ‘I am Muslim. This is my hijab. I cannot [adjust it] like this,’ … but she kept insisting.”
This same woman further noted that her son had been the victim of Islamophobic name calling at school, which she attributed to societal narratives about Muslims.
When [my son] started school, everything was going well. After that, he faced racism or Islamophobia. One of his friends called him September 11th. … [This issue], in my opinion, must be [something that has stemmed from the friend’s] parents. … He’s 14 [years old]. I think he’s heard something from someone or adults. … Yes, this boy, [my son’s] friend, [was] affected by adults, or news, or media.
Islamophobic comments at an educational institution were also reported by a Canadian-born woman. The comments were made by a man after the woman shared with him that her friend’s cousin had been killed in Gaza during the 2023 Isreal-Hamas war.
His impression of what was happening [in Gaza] was [that it] was fully something the Palestinians deserved because Islam—and he used these words—he said, “Islam is a religion that promotes violence, and if followers of Islam could have their way, they would fully conquer every single country that they wanted and implement Sharia law.”
Immigration status was an additional target for discrimination, as exemplified by the experience of a woman who is a naturalized Canadian citizen. She recounted how a casual conversation at a fundraising event quickly escalated into an interrogation about identity, ultimately culminating in xenophobic verbal abuse.
This woman came up… and she was like, “Who are you?” I told her my name. I told her that I’m with [the organization]. She was asking me where I was from. That’s a very difficult question for me to answer because of my background. … I was like, “Well, I’ve grown up in eight countries. Do you want me to tell you all of them?” and she was like, “No, where are you really from?” … I told her that both my parents are Pakistani, and she started talking about how refugees have ruined this country. … I told her that my dad [came to Canada on] a specialized worker [Permanent Resident] card, … and she was like, “Oh, you’re taking our jobs.” … I told her that my mom doesn’t work, and [the woman started] talking about how we’re freeloading. … [When I told her that I was a student, she said], “You’re going to take seats away from other Canadians.”
3.1.2 Family issues
Participants shared a variety of family-related issues, including domestic violence, child custody disputes, and harassment.Footnote 4 All of the participants who reported these types of issues were women. Their experiences highlight the effects of systemic inequities and power imbalances rooted in cultural gender norms.
For instance, a Permanent Resident explained that she had relocated to Canada with the hope of finding justice and protection for herself and her children after suffering abuse from her ex-husband. Prior to the relocation, her ex-husband had attempted to use his political influence in their country to separate her from her children. His efforts in this regard have continued since the woman and her children moved to Canada, first through the filing of abduction charges and then through a custody battle, during which the woman’s fitness as a parent was called into question due to her religious beliefs.
[The bias in the legal process] was clear in the [custody] trial when the children’s lawyer told the judge, “The mother’s belief is dangerous for the children. We have to protect the children. … Her beliefs are strange.” Even my ex-husband, he [wrote in his custody application], “She wears the veil. My daughter in Grade 7, she wears the veil.” Okay, what is the problem with the veil? … Everything in Canada is allowed. … [Children] have the right to choose what they want. Why, when it comes to wearing a hijab or veil, is there no right, is there no freedom? … The issue now is about the custody for the children and the decision-making [for the children]. They are trying to take the children from me because, in the trial, it was confirmed by the judge that I am innocent of the international abduction [charge]. I came here legally. I have all the rights to move the children from [our previous country]. I have full custody and sole decision making. … In addition, my children, they are Canadian citizens. … It was confirmed that [it would cause] serious harm to move the children from Ontario and return them to their father, … but my ex-husband is now trying a different [tactic in which] he argues for custody and decision making.
Similarly, a woman who initially moved to Canada to be with her husband and is now a Permanent Resident described her experience of navigating a cross-border child custody dispute following years of domestic violence. Though she initially remained silent about the violence due to cultural expectations, she eventually found the courage to speak out about what was happening.
“I had a lot of problems with my husband. Lots of domestic violence. … I was hit a lot. I reported him to the police. I tried to solve the problem between me and him before involving the police, but it kept going, so I reported him to the police more than once.”
When the violence continued, the woman decided to travel with her children to her and her husband’s country of origin to spend time with family. When it came time to return to Canada, however, her husband imposed a travel ban on their Canadian-born children, forcing her to leave the children with family and return to Canada alone.
I got to [my home country], and [my husband] had a plan. I didn’t know that he had a plan. He didn’t [give approval for] the children to travel [back to Canada]. He took away all of our documents. … The three children are Canadian—they all have Canadian passports—and I have permanent residency. … I had no knowledge that he could [prevent] Canadian children from traveling [to Canada]. … I asked for help from the Canadian Embassy, but the Canadian Embassy cannot interfere with [our home country’s] law, and [according to our home country’s] law, the father can hinder the children from travelling. So, I travelled alone to Canada. And when my husband saw that I [had returned] to Canada, he sued me. He sued me for divorce and also for custody. … [I started] trying to divorce him and also asked for custody [and alimony]. … My husband’s financial situation is very good. He has a successful business in Canada, so he was able to use those financial resources to hire good lawyers, and so he had an advantage over me. I was relying on him financially. I wasn’t working. I wasn’t getting an income. I couldn’t pay the lawyer.
The financial challenges that this participant faced were due, in part, to her adherence to cultural gender norms, which led to her being financially reliant on her husband.
Similar themes were evident in the experience of a Canadian-born woman. She described growing up in a restrictive environment before being disowned and forced out of her home. She faced abuse enacted by an authoritative male relative whom her single mother relied on as a stepfather figure.
My household was very toxic growing up. It was kind of something that I became used to, but these last three years—especially this last year—my decision to go away for university [and to stop] wearing the hijab—many things led to a lot of discrimination that was rooted in me being a woman and exercising my rights as a woman. A lot of it was from my [male relative], and my mom was very submissive in listening to him because he has a high role [in the religious community]. … Me getting disowned and kicked out? [My male relative] said that was rooted in four reasons: one, me going away for university because I shouldn’t be moving away from home without a man in my life; I would stay out past 7 P.M. during the week; … I stopped wearing a hijab, and that was one of the main factors; and then he found out that I actually had a boyfriend. … As a result, I was kicked out of my house. … On top of getting kicked out, my uncle would send me texts every day… calling me a whore, calling me a slut, … saying that I ruined my mom’s life. … [When my sister got involved in the situation,] he started calling my sister a prostitute and… [saying that] she was a whore for moving out and how she’s not the ideal Muslim woman. … [He said that] we’re straying from God and that has destroyed our lives. … He would skew religion in such a way to make my mom believe things, but me and my sisters—who went to Islamic school—knew that he was lying. … When I got kicked out, I [said to my mother], “I don’t understand why you put this man ahead of me.” … [She responded], “He’s the only one I have. What am I going to do in my life without a man?” … It might just be traditional gender roles at the [head of this issue] because my mother would not have been listening to [my male relative] outside of his role as a man, let alone as an imam. … If I was a man doing the exact same things, … [they] would not have batted an eye.
3.1.3 Housing issues
Housing-related issues were often intertwined with other problems, such as financial instability, discrimination, accessibility barriers, and systemic inequities. Many participants found that securing safe, stable, and affordable housing was complicated by their immigration status, race, religion, or physical needs. Discriminatory treatment by landlords, difficulty accessing proper accommodations, and restrictive leasing policies made finding and maintaining housing increasingly difficult.
A Canadian-born man, for instance, described how he and his family have been subjected to recurring instances of discriminatory racial assumptions and remarks made by their landlord.
My mom—she’s very financially responsible. … We’ve been [living in our home] for 9 years, and maybe [my mom paid the rent] late once or twice. [The landlord] will be like, “Oh, always you people. You can’t afford it. That’s okay,” or like, “You people are always late.” Stuff like that. … We live in an older house, so there’s a few problems. My mom always calls if the pipes aren’t working or the toilet’s not working, and then the landlord always complains, “Oh, you people mess things up.”
Disability-based discrimination was additionally noted, as exemplified by the experiences of a woman who is a Permanent Resident. She recalled how she and her son—both of whom have impaired mobility—have faced housing challenges due to a lack of accessible housing and an unwillingness on the part of their building’s new management company to implement accommodations. She reported that their ability to move and secure housing was limited by their immigration situation and the unwillingness of some landlords to accept a tenant receiving support from the Ontario Disability Support Program (ODSP).
I moved [to my apartment building] in May 2022. When I moved, I knew there was no ramp and there are stairs to access the elevator. At first, [the building] management was okay. They [realized that a change was necessary], but when they started to do something, [the building management company changed]. … The main issue is that I came [to Canada] under private sponsorship, so I needed to stay in this house for at least one year because [my sponsor] signed a contract.Footnote 5 … After the end of the contract, I faced [other kinds] of difficulties [in finding] another place. When I found [a new place], they told me I needed a guarantor. I told them that I have a good credit score, but they said, “No, we need a guarantor. Otherwise, you need to pay six months [of rent] in advance.” … I am under ODSP recently also, so [I’ve faced problems related to this as well] when people said they didn’t want to renew our [tenancy agreement].
Unresponsiveness and unsatisfactory living standards were also discussed by a woman who is a naturalized Canadian citizen.
After I signed [the lease] and gave [the property manager] his deposit, he ghosted me. … And then I moved in, and the fridge wasn’t sealing. It wouldn’t close all the way. On the countertop, there was a paper with [a list of] things that had to be repaired. The front door also didn’t lock. It closed, but it wouldn’t lock. … They clearly knew this stuff because it was in the paperwork. … I did document all of this stuff, and I also sent them a formal email. … Eventually, the front door was fixed, but they didn’t’ fix the fridge at that time. … I gave them another call, and they were like, “Oh, yeah, we already know about this. We’re sending someone over.” … The entire school year went by. Nobody fixed my fridge.
3.1.4 Difficulties with navigating Canadian systems/services
Several participants—all of whom had come to Canada from other countries—highlighted problems that they faced while attempting to navigate Canadian systems/services (aside from the legal system, which is discussed in more detail in Section 3.3 of the Results).
For example, a man who is a naturalized Canadian citizen described the challenges and perceived discrimination his family encountered while trying to help his cousin come to Canada for postsecondary school.
My cousin got accepted into [a Canadian postsecondary school] for a master’s degree [in engineering]. … When he applied for his student visa after his acceptance, [Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada] said that they don’t believe that he needs to be taking a Master’s [program] to be getting a job in engineering in Canada. They rejected his application and said he was too old, even though he was 22 years old. … After contacting some [immigration] lawyers about [the situation], they said that he had a case for a lawsuit, so he ended up starting a lawsuit. … The embassy agreed that they’ll look at his application again if [my cousin] decided to drop the suit, so he dropped the suit. Then the embassy rejected his application for the exact same reason. He had paid his student fees at that point because they told him they’d be able to get him in for the term he wanted. So, he paid his student fees, but then they rejected him, so he couldn’t actually attend [the school]. … It was discrimination. He said [in his lawsuit], “You guys are rejecting me due to discrimination.”
Immigration-related issues were also noted by a woman who came to Canada as a Protected Person and who has since applied for permanent residency. She noted a lack of readily available information and observed disparities in treatment based on language proficiency.
I was born as a Palestinian refugee in Lebanon, so I’ve been stateless almost all my life. … I came to Canada, and once I reached the airport, I directly told the border officer that I want to seek asylum. … [Border security officers] don’t provide much support, to be honest. You have to figure out a lot of things on your own. Thankfully, I think I was at an advantage because I knew English, and I spoke English well. … There were other people who were also seeking asylum and… their English was not as good. They didn’t speak much English. I could see that they were treated differently, more harshly, like, “Do this, do that. Why are you here?” They’re being asked this question as if they’re criminals. … I felt I was being treated in a more compassionate way. … I had to do a medical test, and I asked [the officer], “What doctor should I go to?” He said, “You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.” I had to figure out pretty much everything—from finding a lawyer to navigating what I needed to submit. … When I was talking to the initial lawyer I was dealing with, he wouldn’t give me much information. I would figure out things on my own from [overhearing] or talking to other refugee claimants.
On the other hand, a man who is a Temporary Resident struggled to access timely medical treatment due to his unfamiliarity with the healthcare system. Inadequate initial treatment and delays in receiving specialist care ultimately resulted in multiple emergency surgeries that could have otherwise been prevented.
I mentioned my [health concern] to [a doctor at my postsecondary institution’s student health clinic]. He said that it’s okay and, “I’m confident you don’t have a serious problem.” I visited him maybe three or four times in three months. After that, the situation got worse. … We found that there is a serious problem, and he referred me to a specialist [in another city because of long wait times in my city]. … [The specialist] said, “You have a really serious problem.” … He referred me to another [specialist in my city], and it took a long time to visit that doctor. … It took maybe [6 to 10 months]. … At that time, my situation was an emergency. At that moment, he said that [we needed] to go to the second floor and go to the operation room and do surgery. … I visited [the second specialist] again in November because we are thinking maybe I need another surgery again. … [I have now had surgery] three times. … Because [I am] an international student, I didn’t know that the second opinion option [was available]. If I knew that, I [would have asked about] it sooner. … I didn’t know I should go to visit a general doctor first and he should refer me to a specialist because in my country, we can go to the specialist directly.
3.1.5 Employment issues
Participants who discussed issues related to employment cited workplace discrimination, unpaid labour, barriers to advancement, and insufficient institutional support.
For instance, a woman who is a Permanent Resident reported that she had experienced a hostile work environment during her first trimester of pregnancy. She described how perceived bias and discrimination led her to complete unpaid labour in an effort to prove her worth.
I had a colleague who was Canadian, and I think she was very nervous. She hated anyone who was not Canadian, so she started to [talk badly about me behind my back] to my supervisor, and my supervisor then thought I wasn’t doing my [job] very well. At one time, my supervisor asked me to leave my job if I couldn’t satisfy that Canadian colleague. I felt stressed, and I was not in good condition because that was in my first months of pregnancy. I really felt uncomfortable. I felt—from my side—[that nothing was] wrong, but because I’m not Canadian, they led [themselves] to behave [toward me] in this [way]. … I started to work on [my tasks] for more than 40 hours a week, although I was hired for 15 hours. I worked much more than my weekly hours. … I was expecting to be paid more by my supervisor because… I mentioned to my supervisor that I [worked] more than the [hours I was hired for], but that didn’t happen.
A Canadian-born man also shared his frustration with what he believed to be systemic biases. Despite being born and raised in Canada and meeting all of the necessary qualifications, he had been consistently overlooked for promotion—a situation that he attributed to his Islamic-sounding name.
For the last [two and a half to three] years, I’ve been applying for promotions at [my work]. The first four jobs that I applied for, I never received an interview. In terms of my qualifications, I’m very highly qualified in [my field]. … I check the boxes of everything that’s needed to be promoted. This past year, I continued to seek promotion, and I was never given interviews. … I can’t see anything other than my name being a barrier to my advancement. … All of the leadership [in my organization] is white, for lack of a better description. [The organization] says “diversity.” … They say these catchy terms and, “We’re trying to represent our population in leadership,” and I haven’t seen it yet. …. Is it a coincidence that my name is [an Islamic-sounding name] and every single other person that got the job was white and isn’t as qualified as me?
3.1.6 Financial fraud
Finally, two participants noted that they had experienced issues related to financial fraud.
A woman who is a Permanent Resident reported that, after moving to Canada, she discovered that she had been a victim of fraud committed by her ex-husband.
When I came [to Canada for the second time after my divorce], I discovered that there is around $30,000 under my name [owed to] the [Canada Revenue Agency; CRA] because of my ex-husband and his friend who lived here. [My ex-husband and I initially] landed in 2010. I have two children with Canadian citizenship, so he manipulated the system [to make it look like] we live here. However, we were not here. He brought me here only to deliver the children to [acquire] Canadian citizenship [for them], and we returned immediately to [our previous country]. … When we landed in 2010, he applied to immigrate to Canada. And then he added all of my documents to his application. … I felt there was something wrong going on because he is [usually] very bad toward me. But when he wanted me to sign the papers, he was nice. … He opened a joint bank account, and he told me, “This is the rule in Canada. We cannot open separate accounts.” He gave me many papers to sign. I didn’t know what they were for because the system in our country is totally different than here. He started the application with the CRA to get the child tax benefits and all the [other] benefits from the government. He claimed that we are low income and that he has a small business. … The government thought that we lived here in Canada because he put [his friend’s] address as our address. His friend here—because he has the debit card [for our bank account]—used the [banking] machine to withdraw the money. They took the money for many years—I think three or four years.
Another participant—a Canadian-born man—explained how he had been targeted by a taxicab scam.
I was actually a victim of a scam where, essentially, … you’ll have a driver—the fake driver—and you’ll have a guy in the back [of the taxi]. … [The passenger will] tell you, “I only have cash, and he only takes card.” How the scam works is, you’re going to give that guy your card, … [and the driver will] act like he’s actually processing it. You’ll put your pin number in. However, he’s going to save that pin number, and he’s going to switch your card with someone else’s and give it to you. That passenger—the fake passenger—he’s going to hand you cash. So, something like that happened to me. … I actually didn’t find out until a couple of days later because I kept on tapping my card and I’m like, “Why the hell is it not working?” … Then one day I just looked at my card. I’m like, “That’s’ not my name.” … I was lucky because my account had some feature which [locked the account]. … They tried to take over $2,500, but they only managed to take $100 in total.
3.2 How did Muslim participants try to resolve their problems outside of the legal system, and what has been the outcome of these efforts?
Many participants expressed that they were initially uncertain about how to address their problems. They did not know where to begin, what options were available to them, or what steps were best to take. As a result, many sought information from online resources.
For example, a woman who is a Permanent Resident shared her process of learning more about Canadian law while trying to navigate the accessibility issues that she and her son were facing in their apartment building.
I go through a website. I check sources to understand more. When I moved to Canada, I needed to educate [myself] about law. [In Canada], there are very specific laws. … There is health law, real estate law—it’s not one lawyer for everything, [like what] I knew before. Here in Ontario, or in Canada in general, they have a speciality. I go through a website. … [One of my problems is related to health and accessibility, so] I went to [a university]. I registered [in a course about] health law to know more about these things. In general, when I face a problem, I go to a source. I try to find a source for information from the government.
Participants—particularly women—also relied heavily upon advice and support from their immediate networks, including friends, family, and community members.
This same woman, for instance, often depended on neighbours to transport her son and various items in and out of her apartment building, though this was not always an ideal solution.
“I sometimes need to call our neighbour to help me because I have an issue myself. I cannot carry things. I have different kinds of issues [with my physical body]. … Many times, I needed to wait a long time to find someone [who would help me].”
A woman who is a Protected Person explained how she received valuable assistance from her family and others who were in immigration situations like her own.
I figured my best bet of trying to figure things out is to talk to people. … I would figure out things on my own from [overhearing] or talking to other refugee claimants and so on. … I was getting [financial] help from my parents. Had it not been for my parents during that period, I wouldn’t have made it, to be completely honest. When you don’t have your work permit, you cannot work. So, how would you sustain yourself? But then I think of all the other people of whom I’ve heard stories of. … When I went [to a shelter to meet someone], a lot of the people who were there, they were also [asylum seekers], but they are in a shelter because they don’t have the money to be somewhere else. … Had it not been for the support of my family, I don’t think I would have made out as easily, which is, again, a privilege that I had that I know a lot of people don’t have.
Similarly, a woman who is a Permanent Resident described how she was aided on a work task by other international students at the postsecondary school she attended and worked at, after poor experiences with her Canadian colleagues had left her feeling reluctant to seek help from other Canadians.
At the beginning, I tried to find someone who was [in the same degree program and from the same cultural background as me]. … Unfortunately, [I could not find anyone like that] in our department, … so I asked other people who are not Canadian but who are in our department. … I didn’t [want to ask a Canadian for help because] I was not sure that they would [agree] to help me.
Other participants sought advice using more formal channels, such as through community organizations and institutional groups.
For example, a Canadian-born man stated:
“I decided in the summer to raise [the issue of being passed over for promotions] to our internal human rights group. … The issue was [passed to Human Resources]. They’ve been investigating my situation.”
The importance of accessible community supports is made particularly clear by the experience of a woman who is a Permanent Resident. She reported that a cultural community centre was instrumental in helping her overcome challenges like language barriers and abuse-related isolation while trying to navigate a cross-border custody case.
I didn’t have any information [or knowledge about where to find information] … because my husband didn’t want me to get to know people or contacts in organizations or be in contact with anyone who can give me information. … The first [issue] was that my English was so weak that I wasn’t able to communicate in English. I was only able to communicate with people who spoke [my language]. The first thing I did is I contacted the Canadian Embassy, and they connected me with Family Protection Services. [Family Protection Services] connected me to the [cultural] community centre. At the [cultural] community centre, there’s a woman there who helped me so much. She connected me with so many people. Through the [cultural] community centre, I also got introduced to legal aid and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, so the [cultural] community centre benefited me the most.
Though some felt overwhelmed by the lack of clear and consistent information that they were provided, participants generally valued the support they received from others.
For example, a Canadian-born woman noted that consultation with others had made her more aware of the severity of her situation.
It’s when I started telling people and realizing that [the way I was being treated] wasn’t normal that I came to the realization that my situation [with my male relative] was really bad. … The day before I moved away for university, I visited my high school. … I got into this long conversation with… two of my female teachers who have always acted as role models for me. … They said something [that prompted me] to explain the situation I was in, and I remember they were so shocked. They said, “The way that you portray yourself and the way that you hold yourself leads me to think that you don’t have anything [like that] going on in your life.” They were saying they were really proud of me. … My friends are my rocks, and they’re the people that I can say things to and [then] I feel better. … Talking to [my friends] and hearing adults say—from their perspective—that this is messed up, … and [hearing] that they care for me, truly helped me get through the situation.
Another Canadian-born woman also commented on how community helped her manage the fear and grief she felt after learning about a sudden outburst of Islamophobic attacks that had surfaced at her postsecondary school.
I tried to build as much of a community as I could so that I knew my experiences weren’t [limited to me]. I wasn’t experiencing these things alone. If I could describe the root of all of my grief in the last year, it probably all boils down to the sense of not existing and of no one believing that what I feel and what I think is valid. … It was really important for me to try to find people who understood what that was like. I didn’t have to prove to them that these experiences were real because they’d already lived through it.
None of the participants, however, reported that their most serious problem had been completely resolved. Instead, many remarked that they were still waiting for a resolution or that they had decided to simply move on. Some participants further explained that systemic barriers, emotional fatigue, fear of potential repercussions, or cultural considerations had led them to abandon their efforts to address their issues.
For example, a woman who is a Permanent Resident remarked that she had prioritized keeping her job over recouping the money she was owed for unpaid labour.
“[The pay reconciliation] didn’t happen, but I’m okay because I could keep my job. That’s important to me.”
In contrast, a Canadian-born Arab man who believed that he was being discriminated against at work explained that the lack of resolution had led him to consider leaving his career entirely.
I put myself in a vulnerable position. I exposed my issue to people that I thought could help me. … I’ve kind of exhausted the internal process of trying to deal with this, and so now I’m exploring and thinking more about what to do. … Honestly, I’m exploring other careers. That’s where I’m at right now. … I’m thinking of just stopping teaching for a little bit. … I actively am looking for other opportunities outside of education, just because it seems like a waste of my potential.
Similar capitulation was expressed by a woman who is a naturalized Canadian citizen.
I don’t usually want to tell my parents [about my issues]. If I told my parents, I have no doubt [the issues] would be resolved. It’s just, that’s not necessarily what I want. Like, in the [sexual harassment] situation, my parents would freak out even more than I probably am, and they would want to move me out of [my university program]. … I also feel like, just being Muslim and my parents being raised in the culture that they are, it’s not the same as when white people go and tell their parents, “Oh, this guy’s bothering me.” My parents are going to be like, “What were you wearing?” You know? They have that kind of conception of things. … Same with the landlord [issue]. My parents would have escalated it beyond belief. … The [issue with my landlord] seems like it’s ongoing. I think it’ll just continue to go on until I eventually address it or move elsewhere.
3.3 Did Muslim participants engage with the formal legal system to help address their problems?
In attempting to resolve their problems, the majority of participants (7 out of 13; 53.85%) did make contact of some kind with a member of the legal system. Issues for which legal assistance was sought included:
- Child custody and divorce (2 out of 13 participants; 15.38%);
- Immigration challenges (2 out of 13 participants; 15.38%);
- Housing issues (1 out of 13 participants; 7.69%);
- Workplace discrimination (1 out of 13 participants; 7.69%); and
- Financial fraud (1 out of 13 participants; 7.69%).
In most instances where the formal legal system was used, there were no other feasible alternatives.
3.3.1 For those who sought legal assistance, what was their experience like?
Most participants who sought legal assistance for their problems faced challenges in doing so. The primary challenge faced by participants was a lack of knowledge about the legal system, including what to do, where to go for information, and how to obtain a legal representative. Financial costs, the length of the legal process, and fear of potential repercussions were mentioned as factors that had impacted participants’ ability or willingness to fully pursue a legal resolution.
For example, a woman who is a Permanent Resident consulted a lawyer regarding the lack of accessibility features available in her apartment building. Though this lawyer—who is a family friend—helped her draft letters to her building’s management company, she was reluctant to pursue additional legal action due to the potential time it could take.
I have my friend [who is a] lawyer. I explained [the problem] to him. His speciality is real estate. He said, “We need to start [with a] letter, like this.” … And we kept sending letters. We kept sending emails. … When I heard [the legal aid process] is going to take a long time, I said [to myself], I don’t have enough time for this because, really, I have a serious—very serious—problem. … Now there is an upcoming surgery for my son, so I don’t have time to do anything [for a] long time or through legal aid. I really need to change [apartments] as soon as possible.
Similar sentiments were expressed by a Canadian-born man who believed that he had been passed over for promotion due to discrimination.
I also consulted the Human Rights Tribunal of Ontario [HRTO], and their advice was that it would be a drawn-out affair.Footnote 6 I wasn’t interested in drawing out this problem that I’m having with my employer for something that I think would probably only spoil my opportunity [for promotion] even more because it puts [a label on you]. … I’ve thought about consulting a lawyer, and that comes with a lot of question marks. I don’t know who’s specialized in this [type of issue]. You think being born and raised here would help, but it’s such a foreign topic to try and pursue legal action that I don’t even know where to start. … I don’t know if I have a [valid] case or not. … In terms of my next steps, like with the legal system? It’s a mystery for me. What do I do next? How do I do it? I’ve heard of people going through lawsuits before for other reasons—for business reasons, for other things. It sounds very stressful. It sounds very daunting. … [A] lot of money involved, a lot of time involved, and the outcome is unknown.
Financial concerns and a lack of knowledge about the legal system were also mentioned by a woman who is a Permanent Resident. The complexity of her international divorce and child custody case led to additional complications when she received conflicting information from different legal professionals about which country her case should be addressed in. These issues resulted in delays with receiving legal assistance and additional financial strain due to repeated travel between Canada and her home country.
It took me so much time—from September to January—to figure out what to do, until I found lawyers to help me. Unfortunately, so many people would give very different advice, and I was hesitant. I didn’t know what to do. … I didn’t have enough money to consult with lawyers and pay for them. … I spoke with legal aid many times, … and they advised me to go to [my home country] and solve my problems [there]. … I went to [my home country], and I couldn’t solve the problem. … Unfortunately, [my ex-husband] divorced me in [our home country], but my case for divorce in Canada was not progressing. There was no decision made on that case. … It’s in its last stages, and the judge asked for a trial, but, unfortunately, I couldn’t find a way to pay the expenses, so the case has been paused. I tried to contact legal aid several times, but there’s no one to help with the expenses. … I asked the judge to help me with lifting the ban [that is] hindering the children from traveling, and he said that I could go to [my home country] for some periods [of time] to visit [them]. … Some lawyers would tell me that I can’t bring my children [back] to Canada, and other lawyers would say, “No, that can’t be. The Canadian law will help you bring the children [back].” … I was confused. I wasn’t sure whether I [should] stay [in my home country] or [come to Canada to resolve these disputes]. … It took me so long [to get legal assistance]—four to five months—and in [my home country], my husband, he was almost done with the divorce process. It was so easy for him to get that done [there]. … He had the information that he needed. … Also, his financial situation really helped. He was able to connect with lawyers easily, and he also had the same [experience] with his first wife, so he knew [what to do].
This woman did, however, note that the legal assistance she received was valuable, stating:
“It was helpful. It was late, but it was helpful. When I spoke to legal aid, I was able to obtain information that helped me.”
Other participants mentioned that they felt they had been treated dismissively, unfairly, or unprofessionally by the members of the justice system with whom they had interacted.
A Canadian-born man, for instance, expressed his frustration with the lack of follow-up he had received from police after he had reported that he had been a victim of a financial scam, though he clarified that he believed this was more of a general issue rather than one motivated by Islamophobia.
I filed a police report and everything. The police are still investigating. … This is not because I’m Muslim. It’s just a general complaint. I sometimes find that police in Canada, they’re very slow sometimes. … It’s been a month and a half [since I was scammed]. I haven’t gotten any follow up from any officer yet. I submitted [the report] a month ago. … They said they got [the report]. However, I at least expect some follow-up, you know? “How are you doing?” Where’s the money? Stuff like that.
In contrast, explicit bias and discrimination were reported by a woman who is a Protected Person. She described how a lawyer made assumptions about her situation due to her religious identity, and how dealing with the lawyer left her feeling frustrated and forced to rely on her own judgements.
The initial lawyer I worked with, for instance, he wanted to make these random assumptions about my case just because I am Muslim. I had a certain story of why I’m seeking asylum, but he wanted to make things up just because I’m a Muslim. I am like, “No, I am not going to lie—this is what happened, and this is my story.” I’m not going to make things up just because I’m Muslim. [I’m not going to] take advantage of [my identity] in a way that would provoke compassion. … [In an interview with border security, the officer] wanted me to sign a paper that relates to deportation, but I didn’t sign it. … I’m not going to sign on papers I don’t understand. … And then when I went back to the lawyer, he would be like, “Why didn’t you sign it?” I’m like, “I didn’t understand what it said,” and he’s like, “So what?” He was saying it in a way like, “If the government tells you to sign on something, you sign on it.” I’m like, “No, that’s not how it works. I have the right to read, to understand, and to agree or consent to something or not.” There were so many obstacles. … I just had to have courage and also trust my own intuition and my own knowledge of [what my rights are].
In the case of a woman who is a Permanent Resident, poor experiences with legal professionals ultimately led her to resort to self-representation in court. Her experiences with the justice system left her feeling unsupported and targeted.
My [youngest] daughter, she has visitor visa status in Canada. To give [her] permanent residence, I went to a lawyer here in [Canada]. … I provided him all the documents from [my previous country]. It was final orders for custody and final divorce. … When this lawyer was involved in my case, he destroyed everything. He filed the application, but he did not [include] the serious information [about my ex-husband] in the application. … I started the application in October, and until January, [the lawyer] just wasted time. He told me, “Okay, give me $5,000 and I will try to work on your file.” … [I told him] I didn’t have the money. That’s why the government helped me and gave me a legal aid certificate. … [When I was confused about the legal process, the lawyer] told me, “You are a newcomer. You can’t understand anything about the law here in Canada.” … Even the courthouse, … they are not helpful. They refused to file my document in the proper way. They refused to add my document to the record. … The judge refused my material. She refused the evidence regarding the children’s protection and the history of our cases. … I was self-represented [during the child abduction] trial because I cancelled the lawyer. … I discovered that [the lawyer] had filed something I didn’t know about. He gave consent for another party [to access my file]. I didn’t have any idea about that. … I cancelled him immediately and I decided to be self-represented. The biased judge, she told me in one appearance in the court, “I will use my authority against you,” and she started laughing. … She told me, “I will believe your ex-husband, and I have the authority to believe whoever I want.” … I don’t know how I can claim or make an application against the court. … Even now, my file [is with them although] I am self-represented. … Now five or six [people have access to my file]. I sent an e-mail to the manager of the courthouse [asking him to remove their access] to protect the confidentiality of my file [since] they are not involved in my case anymore, [but the court] ignored [my request].
3.3.2 Why were some Muslim participants hesitant to seek legal advice?
The participants who chose not to seek legal advice for their problems described a wide range of factors that had influenced their decision in this regard. One such factor was a lack of knowledge about the legal system and how it could be applied to their situation. Most, however, expressed that they knew options for legal resolution were available, but they were reluctant to explore them due to potential financial costs, familial norms, time constraints, fear of potential repercussions, and a preference for alternative resolution measures.
A Canadian-born man, for instance, explained that, although his mother felt comfortable confronting their landlord about the discriminatory comments the landlord made, she was hesitant to address the issue through more formal channels because she did not want to jeopardize their living situation.
My mom’s strong enough to stand up for herself, so she’ll tell the landlord, “You can’t say that,” or whatever, but we’re not going to do anything legal. We have a really good deal on the house. [The rent] is really low, and we don’t want to take [the landlord] to court until we move out. My mom is actively looking for another place to live but, right now, this is the best place [to live] until my sister finishes high school.
A similar concern was expressed by a woman who is a naturalized Canadian citizen.
I sent [the property manager] a formal email highlighting [what needed to be fixed in my apartment], and they ended up not repairing it. I’m too nice, and I didn’t want to start conflict because I felt kind of desperate. I was like, “What if, in the future, they don’t re-sign me [as a tenant]?” Or, if I piss them off now, then they’re going to come at me when I move out for every little, tiny cleaning thing. Landlords have their way of extracting revenge one way or the other. … Honestly, I’ve just been kind of dealing with it. I feel like I don’t have time to go and pursue these issues. Like, talking to the people upstairs, going, “Hey, don’t do this,” and it’d be a back and forth. And then people usually have reactions to things. Maybe they go key my car. Maybe they steal my mail because it goes to their front door usually.
Likewise, a woman who is a Permanent Resident stated that she preferred to use a non-legal strategy to address the issues she faced at work because she did not want to risk compromising her employment.
“My husband told me I can legally dispute this behaviour in our department. … I told him I really want to continue [my job]. … I prefer to use another [channel] to solve the problem before [escalating] to our department.”
On the other hand, a Canadian-born woman who had faced conflict with a male relative noted that the legal system simply did not appeal to her due to her prior socialization experiences.
“In terms of a legal perspective? I don’t think I’ve ever considered that as an option. I know legal systems are like the police. That has never been an option in my household. I feel like, growing up, I’ve just been so conditioned to not rely on governmental structures for anything, which is partially as a result of situations my parents have gone through growing up.”
3.4 What have been the socio-economic and health-related impacts of serious legal problems on Muslim participants?
3.4.1 Economic/financial impacts
A Canadian-born man was refunded by his bank after he had lost money in a taxicab scam.
“Luckily the bank gave [the money] back to me—everything.”
Likewise, a man who is a Temporary Resident explained that his medical expenses were ultimately covered by insurance, though he noted that the reimbursement process had been difficult and confusing.
[The hospital] tried to submit the [expense] directly to the insurance but they couldn’t, and they asked me to pay and [then file for reimbursement]. Another time—for one of the surgeries—I went to the hospital, and after one month, I received the invoice from the doctor. … I received that invoice five or six times, and every time, there was a deadline on the invoice. They said that if [I] didn’t pay this money, [I] would have some legal problems. Every time I called the hospital, [they said], “Don’t worry about it. We submitted it to the insurance [company], and we will get the money from the insurance [company]. Just ignore the letters.” It was confusing for me.
Other participants, however, stated that the issues they had faced had resulted in direct financial costs.
For example, a woman who is a Permanent Resident reported that she had paid approximately $50,000 in legal fees while trying to navigate an international divorce and child custody case. She had spent additional funds on traveling to visit her three children who have been living abroad with family since her ex-husband prevented them from returning to Canada with her. Prior financial reliance on her ex-husband had left the woman with few monetary resources or assets, meaning that she had been forced to rely on family for financial assistance. Her situation had significantly impacted her credit score and her ability to work and pay for other necessary expenses.
The lawyer needs to be paid, and so many people helped me. A lot of people were giving me money to pay the lawyer. … I was taking money from my relatives— from my family—so I could continue this case. … [I’ve paid] around $50,000 Canadian dollars, without travel expenses. … This year, I went [to my home country] about four times. … [My brother] and his wife are helping me with the [plane] tickets. … I stopped paying rent because of this issue. Also, there’s two credit cards that I can’t pay off, which really negatively affected my credit score. … I’m trying to find work. The thing that’s hindering me from doing that is the children, because I have to spend more time with them in [the country they’re living in].
Though many of the other participants who had sought legal assistance relayed that the legal process was expensive, few reported the exact costs they had incurred specifically due to legal fees. Instead, participants talked about approximate costs and the overall financial impact that their problems had had on them.
In discussing the expenses associated with his cousin’s student visa application and lawsuit, for instance, a man who is a naturalized Canadian citizen said:
“I know the tuition—it was around $35,000. … A part of it got refunded. I would say a ballpark range [of the costs] would be between $20,000 to $40,000 in total, with the lawyer—with everything—all included.”
A woman who is a Permanent Resident noted that her son’s accessibility issues and Islamophobic experience at school had required her to purchase specialized mobility equipment and other items for her son.
“For the accessibility [issue], I needed to buy [accessibility equipment]. What was said in school affected [my son], so I needed to buy things for [him to use at home] with family to [distract him from what was said].”
A Canadian-born woman described how changes to her living situation following conflict with a male relative had resulted in unexpected living expenses.
I basically bought all the furniture in my room [at home], … but because I was moving out into a dorm [and I was moving to a new city], … there was only a limited [number] of items that I could bring. I also have some items in storage in [my home city], but I lost a lot of [furniture]. … It was a huge financial loss. And then, also, putting my items in storage—that’s obviously very costly. … I am going through a lot of financial stress. I’m actually going through this weird situation with [the Ontario Student Assistance Program; OSAP] where, because I got a scholarship, OSAP took that money away from my funding. … I’m still trying to resolve [this issue with OSAP], but in general, finances have always been a big stress of mine. … Worst case scenario, my boyfriend’s dad has offered to pay for the gaps in my tuition and [has said] I could pay him back, which is really sweet, but finances will be an issue. … The cost of moving everything out? That was a large chunk of money.
Unanticipated costs associated with a precarious living situation were also discussed by a woman who is a naturalized Canadian citizen.
There are things that I’ve bought. For example, a motion sensing light that I have above my door now, so in the middle of the night, I know if that light is on, something is out there. Whether it’s a squirrel or a person—something’s up. Then I don’t feel as freaked out when I walk from my car because there’s light and I can see what’s going on. I bought additional locks during that time period as well when [the old lock on my front door] just wasn’t working. … I bought a safe to keep my things safe in case people break in.
For some participants, the economic costs they experienced came in the form of lost income, rather than direct expenses.
For example, a woman who is a Permanent Resident relayed that she had not received the money she was owed for working many hours beyond those specified in her employment contract.
“I didn’t get paid for the extra hours that I worked for this job. … I was hired for 15 hours, but I was working more than 40 hours those weeks. … It was eight weeks [that I did this].”
Similarly, a Canadian-born man speculated that he had missed out on potential earnings due to a lack of career advancement.
“If I had advanced three years ago in a way that I think a natural advancement could have taken place—or should have taken place—[in my career], I think I would be in a different position. I could be a vice principal or principal of a school, so potential income has been affected.”
3.4.2 Social conflicts and challenges
Aside from economic challenges, participants reported experiencing social costs associated with some of their problems. Some participants expressed that their relationships with others had deteriorated as a result of their situation.
For example, a woman who is a Permanent Resident described how the relationships between her, her children, and other members of their extended family had been impacted by her divorce and her ex-husband’s refusal to allow her children to return with her to Canada.
It caused me problems with my family because I stopped talking to anyone related to [my ex-husband]. It also caused problems for my kids as well because they [do not speak the language of the country that they are living in]. They only communicate in English. And with their cousins as well—who are the children of my husband’s brother—we had to stop talking to all of them. My husband’s family was entirely in Canada, so when we were in Canada, we were communicating with them. … Now we don’t communicate with them at all.
Familial estrangement was also noted by a Canadian-born Arab woman who had experienced conflict with a male relative.
Me and my sister—even though we have had a rocky relationship—during times of need, we will be there for each other. … She ended up forgiving my mom without telling me, [which—] … it just really, really hurt me. I felt betrayed in a way because I was going through so much at the time and my sister was like, “I’m going to stand your ground for you. Don’t worry. I have your back,” and then she forgives my mom the next day. … I ended up blocking her. … She didn’t properly apologize. I just don’t want that in my life. … I feel like it’s really hard for me to maintain a good family situation with anyone that’s connected to that side of me now because I will always be reminded of [the issues I experienced], and in some way, shape, or form, that negativity will re-enter my life, which is really upsetting.
A Canadian-born man, on the other hand, discussed how negative experiences in his workplace had left him feeling disillusioned and isolated from his co-workers.
I see leadership as a different thing now. … It’s like a very divorced relationship. Obviously, I do my job, and I fulfill it the way I should. But in terms of what I see leadership as? It’s like a tool for someone else. It doesn’t serve me. … [Some teachers] like to please leadership at any cost, and for them, it’s like pleasing the leader is number one, and sometimes I don’t even know why. … Having a different opinion? Yeah, it definitely does [make me] feel isolated because I’m the only one who will speak about certain things that need to be spoken [about]. It can isolate you.
The impacts of social isolation were further elaborated on by a woman who is a Permanent Resident. She explained that her son had become withdrawn and that his academic performance had suffered following an incident involving Islamophobic name calling at his school.
“[My son is] really a smart boy. … His marks—always—he has marks that are A plus and A. … Unfortunately, [the name calling he experienced at school] affected his studies and his [grades]. He kept thinking about this problem and he didn’t focus on his studies. … He started avoiding his friend. He takes his table, and he goes to the corner.”
In some instances, participants’ experiences affected how they interacted with society as a whole. For example, after being continuously passed over for promotions, a Canadian-born man stated that he had considered leaving the education profession entirely.
In another case, a Canadian-born woman changed what she wore in public after she learned that Islamophobic attacks had occurred on her school’s campus. She also noted, however, that these events had inspired her to educate herself and others about Islamophobia and social justice.
I heard of all of these instances on the campus grounds. … There were physical attacks on Muslim students on campus. There were really terrible instances of verbal abuse. … Students were told that they were terrorists, that they should be beaten and killed and raped. … The main targets of these kinds of attacks were Muslim women who were wearing a hijab or people who had names that sounded distinctly Muslim. There was some kind of marker on them that could lead a stranger to immediately identify them as either people who practiced Islam or people who were culturally related to Islam in some way. … [My mom] had even told me to not go on campus alone if I could help it because my last name is very Muslim sounding. … I did used to wear my keffiyeh [scarf] on campus all the time, and as soon as I heard about the attacks on Muslim women, I knew that that was also something that would mark me. … I wouldn’t wear my keffiyeh on campus [when participating in protests]. I hated making that decision, … but my parents convinced me that [I] could probably do more [to support the cause I was protesting for] if [I was] safe. … I started changing the times at which I wore my keffiyeh. … All of this hyper-vigilance around the keffiyeh? That didn’t exist before all of this. … I started reading about Islamophobia from the perspective of justice scholars. … I think having that kind of knowledge equipped me with a sense of language [to better express and understand my feelings], and that gave me a sense of mental clarity that helped a lot. I tried to share that information with other people and was able to build a community.
3.4.3 Physical and mental health challenges
For some participants, the problems that they faced also had a notable impact on their health. For example, a man who is a Temporary Resident required multiple emergency surgeries due to an inability to access proper medical treatment in a timely manner.
Another participant—a woman who is a Permanent Resident—suffered both physically and psychologically due to her situation, which included instances of spousal abuse and a stressful child custody case.
“I was subjected to a beating on the nose, and this caused me to not be able to breathe very well. … Psychologically, [these issues were] really weighing down on me and I was overthinking. Also, they caused me to lose a lot of weight because I wasn’t eating for a long time.”
Negative physical and psychological impacts were additionally noted by a woman who is a naturalized Canadian citizen and who was dealing with a poor living situation.
Eventually, [the property manager] fixed the [lock on my] front door. [It was] maybe like a month in, which was really scary for me because I actually have diagnosed anxiety. I’ve had bad experiences. … That was very alarming for me. I didn’t sleep very well. … I just didn’t use the [broken] fridge. You can’t put [food like] chicken in a fridge that doesn’t seal. It’s not very food safe. I would freeze things, or I was just eating out. It was expensive. It was ridiculous. It was unhealthy. I was gaining weight.
The health challenges faced by most participants, however, were largely mental health related.
For instance, in recounting the conflict she had experienced with a male relative, a Canadian-born woman stated:
“I think, more so, it’s just [impacted] my mental health. It was very gutting and very destructive on my mental health, but I haven’t sought out help for that or anything.”
A woman who is a Protected Person explained how her experience with navigating the Canadian immigration system had left her feeling low and second-guessing her decision to come to Canada. She expressed frustration with the fact that mental health coverage was not included in the federal health insurance that she received.
There were so many times before I got my work permit that I would be feeling so down. I would feel like there’s no way out of this. I would feel like, “Oh, my God, what did I do to myself?” [I felt that] I should have stayed as an international student in the United States. … Coming here, and then it was completely different than what I expected? It felt kind of crushing in a sense—like depressing—and it was too much. I honestly don’t like thinking about that. … It was one of the lowest points in my life. It takes time to get out of it. There isn’t much support for these types of things. They give you federal health insurance, which is for everything physical, but then you don’t get that piece—the mental part.
A Canadian-born woman reported that she experienced feelings of hypervigilance, isolation, and psychological distress in response to Islamophobic attacks at her school and, particularly, after a man made an Islamophobic comment to her during this period of time.
[Hearing about the attacks], just on a personal level, gave me a sense that… my identity—my existence as a person—it was something that was very clearly shown to not be valued at all by the [school’s] administration. … That feeling that came from that stayed consistent for the entire year, and it remained even this year as well. The sense that I have to be hypervigilant all the time. That I can’t really know who I can talk to. … [This] created a massive sense of isolation. … [Hearing the man’s comment] was very psychologically distressing. I remember I couldn’t sleep for many days after that.
Severe stress was also discussed by a woman who is a Permanent Resident. She further described her fear that this stress—which was caused by a hostile work environment—would have a negative impact on her unborn child.
“I was in my first and second months of pregnancy. I felt a lot of stress, and I hoped that was not influencing my baby.”
In commenting on the mental health challenges that they had experienced, some participants highlighted the strategies that they used to cope.
A Canadian-born man, for example, commented that he had taken a mental health leave from work after experiencing what he perceived to be discrimination at his place of employment.
“I took some time off. I took a mental health break from teaching this year. It’s the first time. I never considered it, but this issue [at work], it just triggered me so much. … I was like, “I can’t deal with this,” and I had to take some time off. It’s the first time I’ve ever taken time off.”
A Canadian-born woman, on the other hand, used strategies like breathing exercises and journaling to manage her stress surrounding the occurrence of Islamophobic incidents at her postsecondary school. She also sought out community connections to help combat her feelings of isolation.
The first thing that I tried to cope with is my emotion regulation because I felt so stressed all the time. In order to just do my work at school, for example, it was necessary for me to bring that stress level down or I would be totally exhausted by the end of the day. So, just sort of silly things like breathing exercises and trying to take a drink of water when I feel stressed; trying to write about how I feel; trying to maintain community with people who understand what this [experience] is like so that at least it doesn’t feel like I’m the only one in the world experiencing this, which, obviously, I knew wasn’t the case. But when I don’t have people to talk with, it can feel isolating extremely quickly.
Finally, though many participants felt that they had been targeted in some way due to their religious identity, faith was identified by some as a source of strength and solace, as exemplified by a woman who is a Permanent Resident.
When I went through the Holy Book previously, I was surprised. How is [it that] the believers [in the Book], they did not have any stress or health issues? But Allah is there. There is wisdom and reason behind everything. I discovered that, as much as the barriers increase in my path, [my faith increases by the same amount]. Each time there is no human support for us, but the Lord protects us [like an] umbrella, so there is no stress.
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