My name is Asadullah. I was born a Rohingya in Myanmar. Because of persecution, my family fled to Bangladesh when I was a child. It was an unexpected, painful journey. But we had no choice.
My father, an Islamic scholar, believed education was our only weapon. Even though we were denied schools, he made sure we studied at home later though the British Council. In Chittagong, I built a life. I worked as an accountant, got married, and tried to live normally.
But being Rohingnya in Bangladesh meant living in hiding. As laws grew stricter, the fear became unbearable. Every day we feared the risk of being found out. If the authorities discovered our identity, we could be forced into the camps, where life was unimaginably hard. One day, I realized we had no future there.
I moved to Indonesia, where some relatives had already settled. For the first time, I felt kindness and compassion, I was not hated for who I was. But there were new struggles. Refugees in Indonesia cannot work legally, open bank accounts, or access basic services. Language barriers made daily life harder.
Once again, our lives were restricted by rules we did not choose.
Still, I refused to give up. I became an interpreter for NGOs and UNHCR, and my wife worked with IOM.
We helped bridge communication gaps, giving our community a voice. It gave us purpose and dignity.
Then I discovered something new, labor mobility pathways. Unlike traditional refugee resettlement, labor mobility allows skilled refugees to migrate to another country for work, based on their qualifications and experience. It’s a solution that recognizes refugees not just as people in need, but as professionals with potential. For many of us, it’s a chance to rebuild our lives with dignity.
I believed my background could open a door. I applied for jobs across the world, attending over a hundred interviews. Finally, a Canadian employer said yes. It was me fighting for my future, using my skills, persistence, and hope. With support from TalentLift, IOM, UNHCR, and the Indonesian Immigration Office, I applied for permanent residency in Canada. I am now waiting for visa approval and preparing to begin a new chapter.
But my journey is not only for me. I speak to other Rohingya, encouraging those who speak English to teach others. I organize sessions on labor mobility and remind my community: You have potential. You have dignity. You have a future. We must lift each other up.
My dream is simple, to live in peace, respected like any other human being. My biggest hope is to become strong enough to support my community, especially those still stuck in limbo.
More than anything, I want refugees to be seen not for our past, but for our potential.
We are not just victims.
We are survivors.
We are ready to build.
We are ready to contribute to a more peaceful world.
