When Russian missiles began striking Kyiv in 2022, Oleh Chernenko and his wife fled with their four children in a van marked “CHILDREN,” desperate to reach safety. Three years later, they’re still in Canada — and still uncertain whether they’ll ever be allowed to stay.
The Chernenkos are among the 305,000 Ukrainians who arrived in Canada under the federal Canada-Ukraine Authorization for Emergency Travel (CUAET) program, which granted temporary visas to those fleeing war. But as Ottawa slashes immigration targets, their dreams of permanent residency have grown increasingly distant.
They’re not alone. Tens of thousands of Hong Kongers, Afghans, and Sudanese who came to Canada under special humanitarian measures are now facing the same limbo. Once seen as guests offered refuge, many now fear they’ll be left without a pathway to citizenship or stability.
Ottawa’s latest immigration levels plan, released Tuesday, confirms that the federal government is cutting annual permanent resident intakes by 21 per cent — down to 395,000 in 2025, and even further to 365,000 by 2027. The number of spots reserved for humanitarian cases has been reduced even more sharply, dropping 27 per cent to just 4,300 by 2027.
That means applicants under humanitarian programs could face up to 10 years before their files are processed.
“The war is not ending and people cannot go back,” said Chernenko, 56, who works installing energy-efficient equipment in Ontario. “For our children’s future, we need to stay somewhere peaceful. But we can’t keep living in limbo.”
Despite holding a work permit valid until 2028, Chernenko is paying a lawyer $10,000 to prepare a humanitarian permanent residence application for his family and elderly mother-in-law — a long shot under the current system.
Canada’s Immigration Department says Ukrainians and other temporary residents can still apply through existing economic or family-class programs, but only if they meet eligibility requirements. “Canada remains committed to supporting Ukrainians and their family members by providing temporary safe haven while recognizing that most will eventually return home,” the department told the Toronto Star.
For many, that reassurance rings hollow. Vitaliy Ivanov, who arrived from Ukraine in 2023, said Ottawa’s message has changed. “When we came, we hoped there would be a way to stay,” he said. “Now the processing time is 10 years. They’re basically telling us: don’t even think about it.”
Hong Kongers are facing similar uncertainty. Since 2021, more than 32,000 residents of Hong Kong have come to Canada through a special study and work program that was meant to lead to permanent residence. But only about 10,000 applications have been approved so far, while processing has slowed dramatically due to reduced quotas.
“The Hong Kong pathway was supposed to be a lifeboat,” said Aileen Calverley, co-founder of Hong Kong Watch, during recent parliamentary hearings. “But a lifeboat that never reaches shore helps no one.”
Advocates say Canada’s shifting immigration priorities — combined with public pressure over housing and economic concerns — have left thousands of families stranded in a bureaucratic no-man’s land.
Many Ukrainians, Hong Kongers, and Afghans now fear being forced to return to unsafe or unstable countries. A parliamentary petition launched in October calling for a one-time permanent residency pathway for all humanitarian temporary residents has already gathered more than 41,000 signatures.
For families like the Chernenkos, the uncertainty is agonizing. “We don’t want charity,” Oleh said quietly. “We just want to live without fear — to work, to build a life, and to give our children a future.”
Courtsey The Star –Nicholas Keung is a Toronto-based reporter covering immigration for the Star