With Tahir in Bangkok, Thailand, April 2017

A letter to friends (celebrating Tahir becoming a Canadian Citizen):

Dear Friends,

Ten years ago, in 2015, a young man entered my life in Bangkok. Vulnerable, frightened, and scarred by the cruelties he had already endured — first in Pakistan, and then again in Thailand — Tahir was, at that moment, simply fighting to survive. I had no idea then that our meeting would set in motion one of the most meaningful journeys of my life.

What began as an encounter between two strangers soon became a shared mission — not just his and mine, but one embraced by many of you. Friends, colleagues, and kind souls who refused to look away joined in to change one person’s fate. Together, we tried to make sure that fear would no longer define his existence, and to offer him the safety and dignity that every human being deserves. None of us could have imagined how difficult that road would be — nor how beautiful.

Together, we fought for recognition: for the first identity card that would prove he existed, for acknowledgment of his vulnerability, for protection status, and for the right to live without fear. We searched for solutions everywhere — Thailand, Malaysia, Europe, New Zealand, Australia, the United States — until finally, a door opened in Canada.

The hope was immense, but so was the work. There were endless forms, negotiations, appeals, and practical worries: Where would he stay? How would we fund it? Would governments listen? Could we convince them that Tahir was a person of trust and kindness, not a threat?

Years passed. And then, in 2018, I wrote this post — full of joy and relief, though shadowed by fear. For before freedom came detention. Thailand’s system demanded that even recognised refugees serve weeks behind bars before being allowed to leave. Those days were among the hardest — waiting, worrying, praying that he would make it through. And then he did.

He landed in Canada — fragile, hopeful, and determined. From there, a new chapter began: learning, adapting, finding work, making friends, building a new life step by step. There were challenges and tears, but also moments of laughter, new beginnings, and the gradual rediscovery of trust.

Over the years, Tahir became independent. He found stability, started to support others in his community, met the love of his life, married, and eventually welcomed little Hania into the world. And now, ten years after that first meeting on a hot Bangkok street, Tahir has become a citizen of Canada.

I find myself thinking not only of him, but of all of you — friends, colleagues, and kind strangers — who helped make this happen. Some of you were there from the very beginning, others joined along the way. You offered legal help, donations, encouragement, and compassion when it was most needed. You opened doors, vouched for him, stood by him. You helped one human being reclaim his life.

Thank you for that.

And thank you, Tahir — for your courage, humility, and faith. For teaching us what resilience really means. For never giving in to bitterness or hate. For showing that even after unimaginable suffering, kindness can still win.

The world is loud and fast, and it rarely stops to celebrate. So let us pause for a moment now — to celebrate this success, this friendship, this quiet triumph of humanity.

With gratitude and love,
Roman