Bill C-12 and the Human Cost of Making Refugee Protection Harder to Reach
By Milad Rajabi
Canada has long been seen by many people around the world as a place of safety, protection, and second chances. For people fleeing war, persecution, political violence, gender-based violence, or other forms of danger, Canada has often represented more than a country. It has represented the possibility of breathing again.
But with the passing of Bill C-12, the Strengthening Canada’s Immigration System and Borders Act, many refugee advocates, legal experts, and community organizations are deeply concerned about what this law may mean for people seeking safety. Bill C-12 received Royal Assent on March 26, 2026, and the Government of Canada says it strengthens immigration and asylum systems through new asylum eligibility rules, a modernized asylum process, domestic information sharing, and immigration document authorities.
The question we must ask is simple: What happens when a country strengthens its borders but weakens access to protection?
For refugees, timing is not always simple. People do not always understand the legal system the moment they arrive. Some are traumatized. Some are afraid. Some have been misinformed. Some may come to Canada first as students, workers, or visitors, and only later realize that returning home could place them in danger. Others may need time to find legal help, gather documents, understand the refugee process, or feel safe enough to tell their story.
Bill C-12 introduces stricter eligibility rules, including concerns around people who make refugee claims more than one year after arriving in Canada, or people who enter between official ports of entry and do not make a claim within a short period. The Canadian Council for Refugees has warned that these rules may prevent some people from having their refugee claims fully heard by the Immigration and Refugee Board.
This matters because refugee protection is not only about paperwork. It is about life, safety, dignity, and the right to be heard.
A person fleeing persecution does not always arrive with perfect documents. A mother escaping violence may not know the legal deadline. A young person who came to Canada for school may later become unsafe because the political situation in their home country changes. A person from a marginalized community may need time before they feel safe enough to explain why they fear returning.
When laws create strict timelines without fully recognizing the reality of displacement, people can fall through the cracks. And for refugees, falling through the cracks can mean being sent back to danger.
The Government of Canada presents Bill C-12 as a way to improve border security and strengthen the immigration system. Public safety and system integrity are important. But they should not come at the cost of fairness, due process, and refugee protection. A system can be organized without becoming cruel. A country can manage its borders without closing the door on people whose lives may be at risk.
The concern is not only legal. It is human.
In refugee communities, fear spreads quickly when policies change. People begin to ask: Am I still safe? Will my story be heard? Will I be believed? Will one missed deadline decide my future? These questions are not abstract. They live inside real families, real homes, real communities.
Many refugees already carry the weight of uncertainty. They have left behind countries, families, homes, languages, careers, and memories. When they arrive in Canada, they are often trying to rebuild their lives while navigating a complex system. Making that system harder to access can increase fear, isolation, and mistrust.
Canada must remember that refugee protection is not a gift. It is a responsibility rooted in international human rights principles and basic human dignity. The Canadian Bar Association’s Immigration Law Section also raised concerns that Bill C-12 could undermine fairness, accountability, and refugee protections by expanding government powers.
As someone who has lived the reality of displacement and works closely with newcomer and refugee communities, I believe policies should be judged not only by how they sound in government language, but by how they affect the most vulnerable people.
A law may look efficient on paper, but the real test is what happens to the person standing at the edge of safety, asking for protection.
Canada should not build a refugee system where people are rejected before their stories are fully heard. It should not create barriers that punish people for trauma, confusion, fear, or lack of legal knowledge. It should not treat delayed claims as automatically less worthy of protection.
Instead, Canada should invest in faster, fairer, and more humane refugee decision-making. It should support legal information, interpretation, settlement services, trauma-informed processes, and community-based support. It should strengthen the system by strengthening access to justice.
Bill C-12 may now be law, but the conversation cannot end here. Refugee-serving organizations, lawyers, advocates, communities, and people with lived experience must continue to speak. We must continue to ask difficult questions. We must continue to remind Canada that behind every refugee claim is a human being.
A strong country is not only measured by the power of its borders. It is measured by the fairness of its protection, the courage of its compassion, and the dignity it gives to people who arrive with nothing but hope.
Canada must choose carefully what kind of country it wants to be.
Because when protection becomes harder to reach, the people who suffer most are often the people who need it most.
Milad Rajabi is a writer, community advocate, and refugee rights advocate based in Canada. His work focuses on displacement, belonging, youth leadership, human rights, and newcomer communities.