Zafri's Coming to Canada
Unity in Our Diversity
By: Zafri Zulfi
Transcribed by: Ruknoon Dinder
Photo: David Chen-Li
My ESL teacher advises me to watch the news everyday. It helps improve my English. But every time I hear news of atrocities carried out due to religious hatred, I am saddened. Saddened because I am a victim of this hate. Everytime I hear about an airstrike carried out in Syria, or watch Jews being tortured in Serbia, I remember my days in Sri Lanka. The worst feeling in the world is when your own country does not want you, simply because you pray differently. The country you were born in refuses to acknowledge your birth because you are different.
I do not clearly remember a time before the trouble started. We used to live in Aluthgama, near Colombo. It was a Muslim district, with no Sinhalese people. I didn’t know it then, but Tamils and Sinhalas would not mix with us. There was silent segregation going on. I knew nothing about this tension because I used to travel to Aluthgama from Matara, where I studied. There, among the more educated people, there was no racism, no segregation.
My parents say it was not always like this. Sri Lanka had always been geared towards progress. It was the first country in South Asia to achieve a 99 percent literacy rate. Our spice market is historically famous. Like most South Asian countries, it has a diverse population. Unfortunately, we could not use it to our advantage; the Sinhalese, being the majority, acted superior to the rest.
The Tamils rebelled against the Sinhalese. It turned into a brutally repressive civil war. The Tamils were then ostracised instead of being helped to recover. In 2013, Islam started to gain massive popularity. It became the fastest growing religion and soon raised the suspicions of the Sinhalese, who united in the face of this new ‘adversary.’ We were the villains now. Extremist groups started burning down Muslim areas. Soon they came for Aluthgama. We were featured by BBC when the Bodu Bala Sena, a major militant group, burned down our home.
We fled to the relative security of Matara. But apparently the Sri Lankan weather hated us, too. Soon after we moved, Matara was hit by a tsunami. Water filled our house in thirty minutes. We had no idea what was going on since we had never faced a tsunami before. We climbed thorny walls to our roof and held on for dear life. My dad and uncle came to our rescue, but by then I felt like I had already bled to death.
My dad decided to move to Canada right away. He was a well-established businessman in Sri Lanka. Can you imagine how much suffering a person has to face to leave a life of plenty for the unknown? He also feared for his two children growing up in a war-stricken nation. We packed up and left in a month. Saying goodbye to my kin was the hardest part because I didn’t know when, or if, I’d see them again.
When I arrived here, the security guards at the airport said, “Welcome to Canada.” The customer service lady smiled warmly. It seemed like they had known me for years and had been expecting me.
It’s amazing, really—Canada has hundreds of different cultures, but they manage to coexist so beautifully. I believe this comes from the existence of respect. People are not judged by religion or appearance, but rather by how smart or hardworking they are. The Tamils here live in harmony with Muslims; they laugh at the thought of enmity.
In Sri Lanka, I was marginalized by other members of society because I was different. However, I do not hate them. I believe their hatred stems from ignorance. If Sri Lankans knew more about their cultures and had respect for each other, the country would be much better off. Despite what Sri Lanka did to us, I will forever miss its seas, with their tranquil, cobalt blue waters that take my breath away. I will also miss the trains of Sri Lanka, against which even the Hogwarts trains stand no chance. But one thing is for certain: I will never leave Canada for Sri Lanka.
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The story above was written by an immigrant who attends Marc Garneau Collegiate Institute. The submission was part of The Reckoner’s Coming to Canada Column: a column featuring the diverse and unique backgrounds of immigrants at MGCI. If you are interested in sharing your immigration experiences with The Reckoner, please contact the paper at editorinchief@thereckoner.ca. Guest submissions are encouraged, and will be made anonymous on request.
