For most of his life, Yaser dreamed of a place where he could simply be himself.
Growing up in Yemen, he had what many would consider a good life: a family, a career in the medical supply business, and a future. But as conflict and extremism spread across the country, Yaser began witnessing something he couldn’t ignore. Friends from the 2SLGBTQI+ community were being targeted, imprisoned, and killed.
He had a choice: stay silent or speak up.
He chose to act.
For years, he quietly helped vulnerable people find safety, connected victims with support, and documented human rights violations. There was no funding, no organization, and no guarantee he would be protected.
“I truly believed that doing something was better than doing nothing,” he says.
That belief would eventually cost him everything.
When home no longer feels safe
As Yaser’s advocacy became known, the risks grew. One day, three police and military officers confronted him at a café. They beat him in the street, held a gun to his head, and accused him of spreading an agenda and corrupting others.
“I survived that night,” he recalls. “But it changed something in me.”
The attack became a turning point. The danger was no longer theoretical. It was immediate. Yet what stays with him most are not the people who threatened him, but the people who helped him survive.
An elderly stranger stepped between him and his attackers. Another rushed him to a hospital. His sister never stopped supporting him, even when doing so came at a tremendous personal cost.
“They risked a lot for me,” he says. “I wouldn’t be here without them.”
Eventually, Yaser was forced to leave Yemen. His journey took him to Egypt, where he continued supporting 2SLGBTQI+ individuals while building his knowledge as a human rights advocate. Yet even there, uncertainty and risks followed him.
Learning what safety feels like
When Yaser landed in Vancouver seven months ago, the feeling was almost overwhelming.
“For the first time in my life, I knew I could breathe.”
After decades of constantly assessing risks, safety felt unfamiliar. It took time to believe that he could walk freely, make plans, and imagine a future.
Little by little, Vancouver became home.
Today, Yaser volunteers with several organizations, including ISSofBC. He is studying healthcare, pursuing new educational opportunities, and continuing to advocate for 2SLGBTQI+ refugees.
His dream is ambitious: to create an internationally recognized organization that supports LGBTQ+ refugees worldwide.
Looking toward tomorrow
Yaser believes that belonging begins with connection. His advice to newcomers is simple:
“Find your clan. Find kind people. Volunteer. That’s where you’ll find them.”
As we celebrate Pride Month, his story reminds us that behind every newcomer is a story of courage, resilience, and hope. When asked what message he wants others to remember, he pauses.
“It’s okay to look at the darkness,” he says. “But it’s not okay to stare.”
His words are not about forgetting the past. They are about refusing to let it define the future.
Today, Yaser is building the future he once only dreamed about.
And after years of searching, he is finally home.
Need support? The Moving Ahead Program (MAP) is here for you
If you are a 2SLGBTQI+ newcomer—or a newcomer facing challenges with language, housing, employment, or integration—MAP is here to support you.
Services are available in person, by phone, and online.
Email: MAP@issbc.org
Phone: 778-372-6565
No one should navigate their settlement journey alone. MAP provides the support, tools, and community needed to help newcomers feel safe, thrive, and belong in Canada.
