Refugees from Gaza are facing a months-long wait for a work permit when they arrive in Canada, which in Alberta means their children are not eligible for free enrolment in public school.
Advocates say it’s different from the process experienced by other waves of refugees — Ukrainians, Afghans and Syrians.
“I know how the system works because we have been seeing different groups of refugees come in,” said Saima Jamal, co-founder of the Calgary Immigrant Support Society.
“With the Ukrainians, right on arrival in the airport, they were given the three-year visitors’ visa and their work permit was there … everything was all sealed and delivered to them right on arrival in the airport.”
But Jamal said with “the families that started arriving from Gaza, it was a much darker scenario.”
“The wait times for a simple work permit, it’s taking like three times longer than it used to and it affects these kids so badly because they’re just sitting there,” she said. “These kids are sitting at home, not being able to do anything. And the parents can’t work.”
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In Calgary, Jamal and members of the local Palestinian Community Association say they’ve seen families wait anywhere from 40 days to seven months to get their work permits. They said five months is common.
To understand why the experiences of the two groups differed, CBC News reached out to Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada. We asked for the rationale and the average wait times.
In a written statement, spokesperson Anahita Beladi said the process for the Palestinians is different because “each crisis is different.”
She declined to provide estimates for how long families wait, saying it varies with each application.
Nasser Yaghi, 11, shows the drawings he did during the months he waited at home in Calgary before he could attend school. (Elise Stolte/CBC)
The wait for work permits affects families differently across the country. Provinces such as British Columbia and Ontario allow children to attend school if their families normally reside in the province, regardless of the family’s immigration status.
Alberta requires a valid work or study permit for school registration, and community advocates say school boards started to enforce that rule more strictly about two years ago. Now, in addition to children not being able to register for school, they are being de-registered if their parents’ immigration permit runs out, even if the new permit is in progress.
The alternative is for the family to pay international student rates of $13,500 per child per year.
These challenges are unrelated to Alberta’s recent referendum, which could restrict access to public education further. One question asked if Alberta residents with temporary immigration status should pay a fee to access services, including education. That question passed with 52 per cent support.
Ziad Mohammed, Yasmin Talal and their two children arrived in Calgary three weeks ago. Mohammed had been a journalist in Gaza until it became too dangerous, then he opened a small pastry café. When that was destroyed in the war, the family fled to Egypt.
From left to right, Luna Zaid, Yousef Zaid and Yasmin Talal look out the window of their new Calgary apartment. They’ve been excited to see all the trees and wildlife, such as squirrels, in their neighbourhood. (Elise Stolte/CBC)
Talal said the conversation on the flight to Canada was all about how her eight-year-old son, Yousef Zaid, would finally get to go to school. He’s never been to school because first there was the COVID-19 pandemic, then the war, and then the family had no status in Egypt.
She had been so hopeful for Canada and was shocked to find there were still more barriers, she said through a translator.
“He needs to socialize with kids his age. He needs to be out and about. He needs to acquire the language.”
The family found a rental apartment on the far north edge of Calgary. Also using a translator, Yousef said he loves seeing the squirrels and trees, and proudly showed off his new snow boots.
For now, he’s still enrolled in the same half-day online class he was taking in Egypt, and Talal wakes him up at 6 a.m. to accommodate the time zone.
Her daughter, Luna Zaid, has completed one year of university education in engineering.
Volunteers from the local Palestinian community have suggested they check out the local library for English conversation clubs, since there is also an estimated nine-month wait for federal English lessons.
Despite the setbacks, they are happy to be in Canada, Talal said.
“We had no other options. We couldn’t go back to Gaza. Everything is destroyed. Our livelihood is completely gone. In Egypt, it’s not even an option to stay there because we’re illegal there. So even knowing that he wouldn’t be going to school right away, I would still make the decision to come here.”
Ziad Mohammed serves Arabic coffee and pastries at his new home in Calgary. He was a journalist in Gaza before that became too dangerous, then became a pastry chef and café owner. He fled with his family to Egypt after the business was destroyed in the war. (Elise Stolte/CBC)
In Calgary’s Royal Oak neighbourhood, another family of Palestinian refugees had to wait three and a half months. But they’re glad that part of the ordeal has ended.
Nasser Yaghi, 11, said the hardest part of waiting was not having friends. He stayed at home, challenging himself to watch movies in English rather than Arabic to start training his ear. He also spent a lot of time drawing, and when he felt down, he would watch comedies with his mom.
He was finally able to join a Grade 5 class in November 2025, and now he speaks some English.
“I [felt] sad because I [didn’t] have somebody to play with, but I go to school. I am happy because I have friends. I play and I’m happy in school,” he said.
Nasser’s father, Rajab Yaghi, was an accountant who owned a tire shop in Gaza. His home, business and the four cars on site were all bombed, so the family fled to Egypt. He now has a two-year work permit and is driving for Uber.
Rajab Yaghi and his son Nasser in their apartment in northwest Calgary. Rajab owned a tire shop in Gaza before it was destroyed in the war. Now he drives for Uber. (Elise Stolte/CBC)
Jamal, with the Calgary Immigrant Support Society, is originally from Bangladesh. She came as an international student about 30 years ago and got involved with humanitarian work during the Syrian refugee crisis in 2015, when Canada welcomed 44,000 individuals in roughly one year.
She said the Syrian and later the Afghan refugees were welcomed under Canada’s refugee program and given permanent residency status on arrival.
In contrast, when Canada welcomed 300,000 Ukrainians, they were offered three-year, temporary visitor visas. The Palestinian refugees are also being offered temporary visas; the federal government capped their numbers at 5,000. In both cases, they can apply for permanent residency, but there are limited spots available.
Jamal believes politics around this particular war, as well as a shift in Canadian attitudes toward immigrants generally, is playing out in how Palestinian refugees are treated.
“There’s a culture shift now blaming everything on immigrants,” she said. “I see what’s going on in Gaza and I see the insane disparity, the double standard between how these ones are getting treated versus [the ones who came before].”
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“On what planet does it make sense for these refugee kids to be not going to school, learning English and integrating into Canadian society?”
In July 2026, the federal government tweaked the program to allow Palestinian refugees to apply for an extension when their work permits run out. Newly arrived refugees from Gaza will also have the fees for their work or study permits waived. The program is set to expire in December 2027.
