It was the afternoon of June 8, 2021, when I was standing among thousands of mourners on the streets of London, Ontario, at a vigil for the Afzaal family — a Muslim family killed in a targeted anti-Muslim attack. As a 15-year-old girl, I listened to politician after politician, community member after community member, and wondered: Why did everyone express thoughts and prayers, but offer no real commitment to change? I walked away that evening, full of grief, fear, and empty promises. 

Following relentless advocacy by Canadian Muslims in the aftermath of the Afzaal family killing, the federal government recognized the need to address Islamophobia as a state policy. As a result, when Amira Elghawaby stepped into office as Canada’s first Special Representative on Combating Islamophobia in 2023, she represented more than a title. She represented hope for concrete policy change. Islamophobia was finally being named and not ignored. Our fears and pain were being acknowledged at the highest levels. 

For a generation still figuring out where it belongs in society, watching Amira confront hate, harassment, and discrimination with grace gave thousands of Canadian Muslims, including young girls like myself.

Seeing someone publicly speak about the irrational hysteria of Islam reminded Muslim youth like me that our experiences weren’t isolated or imagined. They were worthy of attention and action. It also gave youth the courage to speak up. Seeing someone like Amira encouraged young Muslims to write, organize, join councils, and take part in public conversations in schools, at universities, and in communities across Canada. 

For a generation still figuring out where it belongs in society, watching Amira confront hate, harassment, and discrimination with grace gave thousands of Canadian Muslims, including young girls like myself, the agency to advocate against all forms of hate and bigotry. She showed us what courage looks like. She spoke to our fears while empowering us to stand up when it matters — whether it was about being stopped at the airport, confronting political controversy, or tackling harassment online — Amira’s ability to handle hate with calm, professionalism, and strength helped young Muslims imagine themselves not just as people affected by policy, but as people capable of shaping it.

She helped us reimagine what the future should look like for all marginalized communities in Canada. 

Last week the federal government announced its plan to discontinue the role of Canada’s Special Representative on Combatting Islamophobia, which would result in her office being integrated into a new Advisory Council on Rights, Equality and Inclusion. Amira’s dismissal is deeply disappointing and alarming for Canadian Muslims — not only because she acted as a shield for many, but because this decision was made with no consultation with the impacted communities she represented. 

Moreover, given the lack of transparency, many critical questions remain unanswered about the proposed advisory council: how will its members be selected, how will it engage the leadership of Canadian Muslim communities, and how will its mandate ensure that Islamophobia is not overshadowed by other issues? 

As I pursue my own career, I think of women like Amira, who have paved the way for me and other young Muslims to raise our voices and express ourselves as I do today.

Critics argue that lumping Islamophobia together with all other forms of discrimination risks diluting the focus needed to address a surge in anti-Muslim hatred and crimes. Between 2022 and 2023, shortly before the office of Special Representative on Combatting Islamophobia was established, the number of reported anti-Muslim hate crimes in Canada had nearly doubledaccording to StatisticsCanada

Islamophobia is a disease that requires specialized attention. Just as hospitals have dedicated departments to treat different illnesses, social harms and crimes in society also need customized treatment. 

There is a clear need to advise the government on tackling Islamophobia, staffed with the right expertise and budgeted at the highest level of government. Without such dedicated resources, there is a real danger that the systemic roots of anti-Muslim hate, and its rising trends, will not be confronted with the urgency they demand. 

The government must reconsider its decision to eliminate this department and recognize the true magnitude of hate facing Muslim Canadians. This is not the time to cut resources — it is the time to invest in combating Islamophobia with focus, expertise, and accountability. 

As I pursue my own career, I think of women like Amira, who have paved the way for me and other young Muslims to raise our voices and express ourselves as I do today. For thousands of Muslim youth across Canada, Amira demonstrated what courageous leadership looks like and showed us what it takes to build a more just and inclusive country.

Sakina Ghayyur is Ricochet’s social media reporter. Follow all her work by subscribing to our TikTok channel here.