My name is Mr. Justice. I’m using a fake name, because I’m scared to use my real one. I am a migrant farm worker who was injured while working on a vegetable farm in Ontario. I am writing this letter because, after many years of advocacy and hardship, I have made the decision to leave Canada.
In spite of all my skills and all my years working in Jamaica, I could not find a sustainable job. I had a family to take care of and I wanted them to excel in their education and not go through the struggles of life that I did.
The opportunity presented itself to travel to Canada on the Seasonal Agricultural Worker Program. I knew about the program from my youth, but this was my chance. I came to Canada in January 2018.
I arrived in Canada hungry — no food was provided. Until I got my first salary, I wasn’t able to get groceries, a phone and credit so I could contact my family. That was a few days later.
Life on the farm was hell. If there is such a place as hell on Earth, that’s what it is. The housing was not up to standards. It was what you would call a bunkhouse, and it was made out of sheet metal. The floor was concrete. There was no furniture, no internet or television. There wasn’t enough heat. The bunkhouse housed 43 of us. There were just four showers, three toilets and one dilapidated washing machine. There were four stoves and three refrigerators. Zero privacy. We tied shower curtains around the bunk beds.
The work was rough and demanding. You could not say “no” to anything. You could not refuse overtime. If you spoke up or refused, you would be threatened with being sent home. I had taken out loans and taken a lot of trouble to come to Canada, so it didn’t make sense to give that up to go back home.
The first injury I received happened about six months in, and one of my arms was damaged. The employer refused to treat it because they didn’t want me to go to the hospital. My employer took me to a doctor, who was a pediatrician and was known to my employer. He took me to that person to cover up my injury. The doctor said my arm was overworked. If the Earth had opened up and swallowed me up, I would have gone. I was so ashamed and I didn’t do anything wrong.
On Sept. 3, 2018, three days before I was scheduled to leave Canada for the end of the season, I was minding my business and I was hit in the head by the base of a bin. Then everything began to get dizzy, blurry, and I blacked out. I woke up to the warmest water being poured on top of my head. I heard the boss saying that I should be taken to the back of the building and left there. I remember someone asking why I was so heavy when they were carrying me. They put me in the front of the yard where someone could drive me. A good friend of mine changed my clothes.
I called for an ambulance and could barely tell them what happened. I asked them to track my phone. My whole jaw, neck, spine was damaged. The ambulance tracked me and took me to the hospital. I was not able to tell them what was happening. The employer sent people to the hospital to discharge me. My body was going through shock. I went in and out of consciousness for three days. The liaison officer called and I went out of consciousness while I talked to them. They told me to tell the employer to take me back to the hospital.
The employer took me to the same pediatrician as before, who told me to leave the office because they thought I should be in the hospital. The hospital was where WSIB got involved. The doctor ordered me to stay in Canada. Two officers from the liaison service in Jamaica, who were supposed to stand up for my rights here, instead asked if I could go home after my assessment. The doctor looked at them strangely and said I was in no condition to be going home, and that I may die or become disabled.
Because my hand wasn’t treated, WSIB saw that and knew the employer lied to them. They ordered an X-ray to be done on my hand. The employer started to threaten me, telling me that he was going to buy flights to get me home. He tried to do it three times. I was only able to stay back here and get some treatment because I had some family here.
The system in this country is so broken. The policies are unjust. If you are a migrant worker and an injured migrant worker, you are denied and exempt from everything. The power imbalances, they dehumanize you. I don’t know what they classify us as in their books. In Canada, it is illegal to abuse animals, but it is legal to treat migrant farmworkers like this.
This system has damaged my family, hurt my children — scarred them. I have not been able to see my son, even when my injuries were severe. The first red flag of it all is the work permit that ties migrant workers to their employer. It does not give you any flexibility at all. You are controlled in every aspect of your life. Basically you are a dog on a leash.
Agricultural workers are also exempted from basic labour laws in Canada — we do not need to be paid overtime or given daily or weekly rest periods. And when you are injured, workers’ compensation does not want to pay. They are wicked. I had to pay for my own flights, and to ship my stuff back home.
In all of this, I could have chosen to be bitter and resentful and hateful. But I chose to become a voice for the voiceless. I chose to stand up for the weak and to fight for the next generation. I have been able to work with many people and organizations that fight for justice, from Toronto to Windsor to Ottawa.
For Canadians and the government — it’s time for you to take responsibility for the actions of these employers that continue to destroy human lives and property, and to hold them accountable and have stiff laws and penalties in place. End the injustices against migrant workers and give them a seat at the table so that they can speak for themselves.
For all injured workers — do not stay silent. Fight back not only for yourself, but for the next generation. We have to end this pain and suffering because there’s nobody who is going to do it for us.
This article appeared in the 2025 Summer issue.
