Few LGBTQ+ refugees got to Canada during the pandemic. Here are the stories of some who did
CBC
Warning: Details and testimonies contained in this report may be distressing for some readers.
João Araújo says he was thankful the Canadian government granted him refugee status last year. As a gay man, he didn't feel like he could live his life back home in Brazil without fear of judgment and violence.
But settling in Canada during the pandemic proved to be a challenge. Araújo, who CBC News granted anonymity to protect his family back home, has been waiting for nearly 10 months for the immigration office to sort the paperwork that would allow him to visit his sick mom.
And he can't help but feel that now that he's here, Canadian authorities aren't moving as quickly to deal with his case.
"When you think your life is at risk, you don't think too much about what's going to happen after, you just want to leave your country," said Araújo.
"It's really difficult because I chose to find refuge here to be safe, but at the same time, I feel like I'm missing something: my family."
The COVID-19 pandemic not only significantly decreased the number of LGBTQ+ refugees let into the country, but also disrupted settlement and integration for those who did manage to get in. Immigration authorities have been approving an increasing number of applications since COVID-19 restrictions loosened, but experts say it'll take a long time to get fully back up to speed.
"There's a huge backlog. Refugee resettlement is at the lowest point it has ever been," said Kimahli Powell, executive director of Rainbow Railroad, a Toronto organization that helps LGBTQ+ people flee persecution.
He adds there's over 90 million displaced people around the world, the highest number recorded since the Second World War.
"There needs to be a dramatic effort to catch up."
Maïmouna Diomande, who identifies as bisexual, left Ivory Coast to settle in the GTA with her niece two months before the pandemic hit.
Before the pandemic, she was already dealing with the difficulty of learning English and adapting to Canadian winters. When COVID-19 struck, it became even more difficult to meet people, get access to newcomer services and find other supports as an asylum seeker.
But coming from a place where she was raped, eventually forced by family to marry after getting impregnated, and where her own lover was stabbed to death, she'd do it all over again.
"It really wasn't easy; it wasn't easy at all for me. But as soon as I had the chance, the opportunity to come here, I jumped on it," said Diomande.