My Time at Romero House: Refugee, Neighbour, Volunteer, Staff

In the afternoon, I stepped out of my new apartment on Bloor and Dundas West, wearing my warm clothes, and walked down Roncesvalles to go to the library. As I passed the Revue Cinema—a place that connects the community through film—I saw Mary Jo Leddy with her warm smile emerge from the theatre. She was wearing her yellow winter jacket and carrying her leather handbag. Our eyes met, and we paused. This was the second time I had met her; a few months ago, we had connected online at the Writers in Exile monthly gathering, in which I had the opportunity to share my story. 

Writers in Exile are a group of writers, artists, and filmmakers forced to flee their countries of origin due to war and violence. They have found safety in exile, where they gather at Romero House and online to resist atrocities in their home countries through writing and poetry. Mary Jo was one of the first people to start this group. 

She invited me to Romero House for lunch after learning that I lived in the neighbourhood. The following day, I walked into the Romero House office on Bloor. 

It was Thursday. Harold, a retired teacher, a long-time volunteer for Romero House, and Marisol, a Worker, were busy distributing foods from the second harvest market to the refugee families living in the Romero House residences. They showed me the way to the basement office, where I could meet Mary Jo. I walked down the narrow wooden stairs into the basement. 

In the far end of the basement, Rafael, one of the Workers who arrived in this country as a refugee himself, was preparing meals for Workers, staff and volunteers. Everyone that works in Romero House takes turns making meals and cleaning the kitchen. 

The title of staff at Romero House doesn’t get in the way of building a diverse and welcoming community through various collaborative initiatives—one of which is cooking meals. Francesca, the executive director, makes the most delicious food. I sat beside Mary Jo at a white plastic table in the corner of the office basement, and everyone in the office joined us in eating the delicious Mexican food that Rafael cooked for us.

I only knew Mary Jo, one of the founders of Romero House—a lady with white hair but a young heart and a compassionate spirit. Mary Jo is in her late 70s. The retirement age in Canada is 65, but she believes that her retirement might mean someone arriving in Canada in the thick of winter sleeping outdoors. So she keeps going and passes down the legacy of caring and working to others at Romero House.

After lunch, Mary Jo introduced me to everyone that day, and I felt welcome in everyone’s greeting expressions. Outside, it was cold; the office isn’t fancy, but Rafael’s meal and Harold’s muffins were delicious, and the conversation was heartwarming.

Romero House receives refugees from all parts of the world, speaking different languages. Mary Jo asked Francesca to put my name on the list of volunteer interpreters. Since January 2023, I have been a Farsi volunteer interpreter, trying to contribute to Romero House’s mission of helping refugee claimants from every part of the world with an open heart.

This summer, I had the opportunity to work on intake as part of the Canada Summer Jobs Program . As a refugee fleeing my own country and crossing multiple borders, I lived in detention centres for several years. I experienced firsthand the heavy weight of leaving everything behind—the place where you grew up—and trying to find a new home where you could breathe freely. Coming into a new country that was different from where I had been, I joined Romero House hoping to ease some of the challenges refugees face when arriving in Canada. 

As an intake worker, I assisted many refugee claimants in becoming familiar with immigration procedures in Canada and provided them with resources to navigate the refugee system more effectively. In mid-June 2024, a man in his early 40s walked into Romero House. Sini, the receptionist volunteer, guided him to sit on the couch and offered water and snacks until one of the intake workers was available to assist him. After helping an Iranian woman, I met James.

James, originally from Ghana, had his family land seized by a powerful armed group of miners. He survived an attack on his life after resisting this group. Carrying memories of forty-five years in a single backpack, he managed to escape to Canada for safety. James had tears in his eyes since we started our conversation. I saw my own experience of surviving a direct attack on my life from the Taliban expressed in his tears. I listened first, then explained how Romero House could help him.

I registered James in our system, I applied for social assistance and legal aid to find him a lawyer. He revealed that a man in Canada, who said he was a  lawyer, threatened him with deportation back to Ghana unless he paid $5000. I sought advice from Francesa, the executive director of Romero House, and we discovered that the person demanding money from James was not on the list of legal aid lawyers in Ontario. 

James found reassurance in our words. Primarily, James seemed tense because of being scammed by another person. I assured him that he couldn’t be deported until the government issued a deportation order. He had the right to a hearing, and Romero House was there to support him. While I completed paperwork, the only remaining task was finding him a place to live. I provided the city shelter’s number, and he agreed. As he left the office that afternoon, he smiled back at me—a wide smile filled with relief.

At 5:20 pm, I noticed James still sitting on the bench outside Romero House. We continued calling shelters until a social worker in Hamilton, Ontario, offered James a bed in the shelter. James was willing to go anywhere in Canada. That evening, he went to the shelter in Hamilton.

A week later, James emailed me that the lawyer had started working on his Basis of Claim form, the document every refugee claimant needs to submit explaining why they fled their country, and would submit it soon. Two weeks later, his application was submitted to Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada. He also found English classes and secured a place to live. James wrote to me: “I will never forget your kindness and humanity.” That night, receiving his message, I slept peacefully, knowing I had made a small difference. The staff at Romero House have helped thousands of families and individuals over the decades. Being a humanitarian worker requires emotional resilience, listening to stories of human rights violations, deaths, starvation, and torment. Yet, the impact on those in need is everlasting. I hope I can one day work again for Romero House.