Resilience Built

Thirteen years ago, I arrived in Canada from Karachi, Pakistan, seeking stability amid a personal and social crisis back home. Canada was seen as a land of opportunity, a place where anyone could achieve their dreams. At 23, I pursued an MBA at Simon Fraser University to build a better future.

It was during that time that I came across an article about a grassroots Indigenous movement to combat the ongoing impacts of colonization. The emphasis on collective responsibility, mutual aid and the preservation of cultural heritage resonated deeply with me, having grown up in a culture and family where the values of giving and community care were ingrained.

But the story also unsettled me. I hadn’t known that a country like Canada, so progressive on the surface, harboured such deep social injustices. I wanted to know more about this country’s history, about its original peoples. My curiosity led me to an internship with the Kanaka Bar (T’eqt’’aqtn’mux) band in British Columbia.

Initially, I was there to help plan for a community economic-development project, brought on by the success of a profitable hydroelectric system. But as I immersed myself in the community, I realized this wasn’t just about money—it was about healing and resilience.

Working primarily on the reserve, I saw first-hand how the community was faced with capacity issues, deficiencies in staffing, time, money, technology and the like—all a result of stolen land, people and history. It became clear that resilience couldn’t be built with a one-size-fits-all solution. It required deep understanding, respect and a commitment to supporting these communities. What was supposed to be a brief internship stretched into eight months, then five years, and continues to be a great relationship today.

The experience reshaped my approach to reconciliation. I learned that true engagement starts with understanding and, then, action. I hope to inspire others to embrace this perspective for meaningful, lasting change.