Home is where you are loved. Anywhere you are loved becomes meaningful. When I immigrated to Canada in 2012, it wasn’t Toronto’s beautiful views or rich culture that made this city feel so special. Instead, it was the people who welcomed me into their city with open arms and have made me feel like I’m at home ever since.

Toronto is a place where I walk out of my house and I don’t see my colour. After a big snowstorm one winter, I came across my white elderly neighbours shovelling off snow from my house and walkway, helping to dig me out. One of them is 87 years old, and he still did it with a smile on his face. They have always looked after me since the day I moved in.

One of the people that invited me into Canada helped with administrative tasks and was my main point of contact — though she refused to be paid even after being offered money countless times. She says she got joy out of just seeing me smile. The people here are amazing, and if they don’t know, they need to know.

I feel safe in Canada, particularly in Toronto. I grew up surrounded by violence, death and trauma, and now I am running my own record label and have my own wellness business. I grew up in a warzone in South Sudan and became a child soldier, wielding an AK-47 at seven years old. But here in Canada, I don’t feel like I have to purchase a gun to feel safe. The people who live here make me feel at peace. I came to Canada with nothing, and now I have so much.

Toronto is on the traditional territory of the Mississaugas of the Credit, Anishinaabek, Haudenosaunee and Huron-Wendat Peoples.