Terry-Kay Walker felt like she won a lottery when she got approved for resettlement to the U.S., so she could leave behind the years of trauma and fear living as a trans woman in Jamaica.
She was in transit in Colombia in early 2025 when she got an email that President Donald Trump had just paused the special pathway program for at-risk LGBTQ refugees.
“I was looking for the email with my flight date every day,” recalled Walker. “Instead, I got this email that the program was suspended. I was devastated.”
Toronto-based Rainbow Railroad came into her rescue by referring her to Canada’s government-assisted refugee program, which dedicates 250 spots a year to resettle at-risk LGBTQ people and their families fleeing persecution abroad.
But the need for LGBTQ people to find shelter has grown exponentially as countries around the world, including Canada, are making it harder for refugees to access protection, said the global not-for-profit that helps displaced queer people escape harm through asylum or the limited opportunity for resettlement.
Trump effect on LGBTQ requests for help
In 2025, Rainbow Railroad received 20,215 direct requests for assistance from LGBTQ people worldwide, a 51 per cent increase from the year before, according to the group’s report released Saturday, World Refugee Day, which offers a glimpse at the state of global LGBTQ persecution.
It said the surge in requests was driven mainly by those coming from the U.S., which accounted for about 31 per cent of the total requests for help. While 88 per cent of the requests from south of the border came from U.S. citizens, 4.4 per cent were asylum seekers in that country. The rest included permanent and temporary residents, as well as non-status people.
Behind the U.S., the top 10 source countries for assistance, in descending order, included Uganda, Pakistan, Egypt, Afghanistan, Kenya, Iraq, Turkey, Canada and Russia. (In-Canada requests are for assistance in navigating the asylum process and help for government-sponsored refugees after they arrive.)
“They have absolutely peaked under the Trump administration,” said Devon Matthews, chief programs officer of Rainbow Railroad. “It is obviously an increase related to people’s feeling of lack of safety or security.”
In 2025, her organization supported 7,521 individuals directly, and an additional 17,855 individuals through funded local partnerships. It also evacuated 85 individuals through emergency travel assistance, most finding safety in France, Netherlands and Spain; another 339 people were assisted with various government resettlement programs.
Last year, trans women represented Rainbow Railroad’s most supported group, accounting for 34 per cent of the people it served. The report said it reflected a shift in political climate, where anti-trans policies and rhetoric have made trans women more visible targets. Trans men came second, accounting for 19 per cent of the people Rainbow Railroad served.
Walker knows well the danger of being a trans woman.
Originally from St. Ann, she quit school and left home at around 15. She said the only way for her to support herself was to become a sex worker.
“Being on the road, you had to fend for yourself,” said Walker. “You had to do what you had to do. Majority of places in Jamaica would not accept persons to work with them once they find out that you are a part of the LGBTQ community. Somewhat safe to us is prostitution. Sometimes we could rent a motel for a night or two to get a better sleep.”
Walker said she had been attacked several times, including being shot at once. And after working in the sex trade for eight years, she was connected to an advocacy group for trans people and started volunteering there before being hired to do administration and outreach work.
She said the last straw for her to leave for a safer country came when the girl she calls her trans “daughter,” who she lived with, was murdered and the killer sent her a video of the killing from the girl’s cellphone, threatening to get her next. She and her partner left Jamaica in May 2024 and they resettled in Toronto in December.
“This is everything I’ve dreamed of,” said Walker, 38, who is thrilled to attend her first open Pride this month. “The freedom to be me, being in a country where you are actually being accepted and felt like you belong, and people actually address you by your preferred pronoun and by your preferred name.”
Deterioration under current Liberal government
While Canada’s government-assisted refugee resettlement program provides a lifeline for Walker and other at-risk LGBTQ people, Rainbow Railroad’s Matthews said things have gotten worse for refugees in general under the current government.
New rules have been implemented to restrict asylum eligibility retroactively and reduce health-care coverage for refugees, with funding cuts to organizations supporting newcomer settlement. Her organization has lost a third of its federal funding and is trying to make up the shortfall through fundraising.
“The immigration levels were shrinking and commitment to refugees and newcomers has been decreasing,” Matthews said.
A person can only make an asylum claim within one year of the first entry in Canada, which Matthews said is going to disproportionately affect LGBTQ people seeking protection because most come with a lot of baggage and the process requires them to openly share their sexual orientation and gender identity, and past trauma.
Kevin, a gay man in his 30s from the Middle East, was among those who have had his refugee claim cancelled in March. He first came to Canada in 2022 for a postgraduate diploma program and returned home after two years. But then he was blackmailed and threatened by someone back home who got hold of images of him at queer events in Toronto. It prompted his return to Canada in November, for asylum.
“If you are in danger, you leave immediately,” said Kevin, who asked to use a fake name because he’s not out to his family. “My refugee claim will not be heard because of the time I had spent here. Something happened to me and now it won’t be evaluated according to merits.”
