The Bigger Picture

1 November 2023

Aleppo, Syria // Photo by Sofia Ijaz

My story as an advocate begins in a café in Damascus in 2010, one year before the war in Syria began and authoritarian regimes across the region fell like dominos.

I was 21 years old and a recent university graduate, with only some vague idea that I liked to write and tell stories about human struggles. I decided to apply for law school and drafted my application from that small café. I had no idea then how much would soon change or that my path to becoming a refugee lawyer would unfold alongside the largest migrant crisis in modern history.

As of the date of this post, I have acted as legal counsel for refugees and migrants in Canada for over eight years. Those who I have had the privilege of representing include unaccompanied minors from Somalia, journalists from Iraq and Eritrea, activists and human right defenders from Syria, Sudan, and Turkey, women civil society leaders from Afghanistan, and survivors of torture from repressive regimes globally.

My path to becoming a lawyer is rooted in my love for telling stories in a form and space that has the potential to alter the course of a person’s life for the better. As lawyers, we relay narratives in courtrooms and before tribunals every day, though often in silos and away from society at large.

In The Bigger Picture, I will share snippets of stories I have come across in my work as a migrant rights advocate — of mothers and grandparents, farmers and construction workers, activists and ordinary people who left their homeland and crossed borders to find themselves here. The names will be changed and only those who wish to tell their stories, and are safe to do so, will be shared here.

My hope is that, through these posts, we learn —about each other, the resilience of migrants and refugees, and the brutality of borders and anti-immigration policies.

- Sofia Ijaz

Reflection:

Syria After Assad

9 February 2025

Ayaa Dakkak reflects on the stunning fall of the Assad regime and the challenges for Syrian refugees caught between their desire to return home and the realities of present-day Syria.

It has been 12 years, 6 months, and 20 days since I last set foot in my beloved homeland, Syria. The regime I lived under has now fallen. Last December, in less than two weeks, the rebels stormed across the country and collapsed the regime forces like a house of cards. My city, Aleppo, was the first to be liberated. I walked Aleppo’s streets as a protestor in the early days of the revolution, not realizing the long struggle my people would endure for freedom.

After forcing millions of us to flee – leaving behind the homes we grew up in, the land we tended to, and the loved ones who raised us – Bashar Al-Assad and his elite are now the ones living in exile. We, the Syrian people, now have hope to return.

And yet, the realities of returning is fraught with complications. Images of prisoners climbing out of dungeons in the ground at Sednaya prison and of mothers embracing sons they thought had been forever lost long ago remind us that we are a nation with deep wounds. Frequent power cuts, water shortages, poverty and insecurity remain. The task before our new leaders is enormous. They must not only rebuild basic infrastructure but also establish governance and draft a constitution to reflect the desires and needs of our diverse country. Most certainly, it will take us time to heal and rebuild.

In addition to the practical challenges of returning, my heart is also now torn between two places – my homeland, and my country of refuge. Like many Syrian refugees, I have established a fulsome life abroad since I was forced to flee. While part of me will always long to return to Syria – to the sounds of Fairouz in the early morning and the azaan from atop the minarets, to the smells of my dusty neighbourhood and fresh baked bread from the bustling market – Canada is now my home too. It is a country I love and one that granted me, along with thousands of other Syrians, protection and opportunity when others closed their doors.

So, although return to my beloved Syria still seems elusive, I will remain steadfast, as my people have for so long, and continue to advocate for the rights of Syrian refugees and other forcibly displaced people here in Canada.

- Ayaa Dakkak