This story below comes from Alosh, whose sister and her children arrived in Canada in 2025, sponsored by JIAS. Alosh offers a rare, first-hand account of the dangers many refugees - already approved for entry into the country - face as they wait for their applications to be processed and visas issued. The danger their family faced prompted intense advocacy from JIAS and other humanitarian organizations to the IRCC for faster processing times. A modern-day miracle saved them from perilous fate, delivering them into the safety of Canada, the support of JIAS, and the love of an uncle whose prayers had been answered. 

My family comes from Mazar-e-Sharif, Afghanistan. I have been living in Canada for just over three years, and the last time I saw my sister was about eight years ago. Her kids were very young. The youngest was just a toddler. 

 In 2022, they ran from the Taliban in Afghanistan, escaping to Pakistan, which presented different problems. When you have the sticker of refugee, immigrant, outsider, or foreigner, you sleep with one eye open. When your home is a threat, and you are forced to tie your boat at the neighbour's dock, your neighbour can force you to leave anytime they want and do anything to you. You are forced into silence and accept this to stay alive. 

 I worried that they would get deported by the Pakistani police and be sent back to Afghanistan; this would mean certain arrest by the Taliban. That was the risk that frightened me most. It was not uncommon for Pakistani police to break down doors and arrest Afghans in the middle of the night. It became my sister’s family’s biggest trauma - a monster in their dreams during days and nights. 

 While the word 'raid' is only four letters, it holds enough fear to irritate your soul and shake your body like an earthquake. 

Throughout my sister and her family’s time in Pakistan, my mind stood at attention like a soldier ready for anything. I followed the news to stay informed about the situation in Pakistan and braced myself for the worst. 

Each night, as I put my head on my pillow to fall asleep, I wished that I would not receive a call or message from my sister about having been arrested. Just as a child puts their tooth under their pillow with the hope that a fairy will bring good fortune, a fortunate night for me would be no phone calls about a police raid, no chaos erupting in my heart, and the innocent faces of my nieces not flashing before my eyes.  

Now that my sister and her children are in Canada, the door to the trauma is closed. 

 My feelings are like those of someone lost in the desert and, after years of hardship, eventually finds his home and sees his family. I hugged them at the airport and felt relief for the first time in years, a giant weight lifted.  

 When I see them here in front of my eyes, playing, talking, laughing, smiling, and hearing them call out to me, it makes me so happy, like a miner who reached the diamonds he was digging for, for years.  

I feel so lucky to have them here with me. I feel blessed when a nine-year-old child tells me that I’m the best uncle in the world. When I hug my nieces and my nephew, their love melts my insides like an ice cube. What else can someone want from this world? What is bigger or more meaningful than this?