My name is Fatima Khalifa, and I am from Syria. In 2013, because of the war, I fled to Lebanon with my three children after living through more than three years of violence in Syria. During the war, I lost my brothers and many other family members.
We settled in the southern Dahia region of Lebanon, but life there was extremely difficult. For three years, my children and I moved from place to place, trying to survive and find stability. Later, my husband joined us, but after our divorce, I became a single mother. Looking back, the last several years were both the hardest and the most meaningful of my life. They were painful years, but they also showed me my strength as a mother.
One day, I hope to write a book about my experiences during the Syrian war and my life in Lebanon. My journey was full of hardship, but also moments that taught me resilience, courage, and hope.
By 2020, I became deeply worried about my children’s safety in Lebanon. I feared that if we stayed in Dahia, my older children could be exposed to violence, drugs, weapons, and fighting. I faced one of the hardest decisions any mother could make: remain in danger or risk a dangerous migration journey in search of safety.
As a mother, I had to be strong. I chose to guide my children through a difficult route that passed through Turkey, Greece, Serbia, Austria, and finally Germany. To me, courage did not mean carrying a weapon. Real courage meant protecting my children, continuing forward despite fear, and never giving up hope. After four years of struggle and uncertainty, my older children finally reached a safer place.
At the same time, I faced many challenges trying to receive support through the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). As a single mother raising my young daughter Jana, I repeatedly tried to get answers, but often received little information or guidance. I was especially worried about Jana’s education and future.
In 2023, during a UNHCR appointment, a staff member told me that I had supposedly refused resettlement in 2018 and that I should have migrated in 2017. I was shocked because I had never properly understood my options. I was left with many painful questions and felt confused and unheard.
Eventually, a staff member asked me a simple question: “Do you want to immigrate to a safe country?” That question changed everything and began the resettlement process for me and Jana.
We first applied to Sweden, but delays related to the war in Gaza slowed the process. We then applied to Australia and later Germany. Unfortunately, Germany stopped accepting refugees through that program, and after a year and a half without clear answers, I felt hopeless.
Finally, I was given two options: apply to Canada or remain in Lebanon. Although I knew little about Canada, I believed it would offer Jana safety, education, and a chance for a better future.
Today, Jana and I are in Canada, and we are very happy to be here. For me, Canada represents safety, peace, and a new beginning. After years of war, fear, and uncertainty, I finally feel that my daughter and I can breathe, rebuild our lives, and look toward the future with hope.
