The situation in Toronto for a person seeking affordable housing is akin to desperately seeking water in a desert ironically named ‘Oasis’. The promise of quenching one’s thirst or securing a home seems to be ever-looming yet always elusive. The cityscape, originally viewed as a haven of opportunities, now reflects the harsh mirages of a desert with the rising costs of living casting long, impenetrable shadows of hardship. With housing and grocery expenses soaring, residents are being pushed into the precarious dance of living paycheck to paycheck. The scenario is even grimmer for refugee claimants who are compelled to compete for limited spaces in overburdened shelters or shell out over a thousand dollars a month for a single room.

Settling in a new country is like walking a tightrope. It carries the promise of a safer, more secure life, but that promise is increasingly marred by the reality of a housing crisis nurtured by factors both national and international. What was once a leap of faith toward a new life now feels like stepping into quicksand, with the ground beneath newcomers’ feet giving way to uncertainty and vulnerability. The beacon of hope that Canada symbolized is flickering in the face of these escalating challenges.

As a settlement worker, it’s a daily uphill battle to secure adequate housing for clients. It feels like being in a ceaseless maze where every turn only leads to a dead-end. Waiting for a spot in a shelter can span weeks, a government-financed apartment often remains a distant dream for up to a decade, and the private market, charging rents between $700 to $1,200 for a single room, is brutally unaffordable.

Housing should not be a game of monopoly; it is a basic human need, the cornerstone of stability and dignity. Yet, it appears that in Canada, real estate has been turned into the most lucrative business, overshadowing the more urgent task of creating businesses that would stimulate jobs and growth. This pursuit of profit over people is eroding the very essence of what ‘home’ stands for.

The irony is not lost that in a place known as ‘home’, housing has become a towering problem. Perhaps it’s time to reconsider our priorities. If we cannot maintain the sanctity of our own homes, should we be extending invitations to others, only to leave them homeless? This crisis signifies a diversion from Canada’s fundamental principles, transforming the dream of home ownership into an elusive chimera and erecting barriers to integration for newcomers. A home should not be an unattainable luxury; it should be a guarantee, an affirmation of the nation’s commitment to its people — both old and new. For a country as bountiful as Canada, it’s time we reassess what it truly means to be ‘home’.