Since receiving his deportation order in 2017, Simbarashe Mutyaba has remained in Canada, living in a legal limbo that illustrates the complexities of our immigration enforcement system. Seven years after being ordered removed for “serious criminality,” Mutyaba continues fighting his deportation through a series of appeals, applications, and procedural maneuvers that have effectively kept him in the country.
“The system is designed with multiple safeguards that can be accessed sequentially,” explains Sharry Aiken, immigration law professor at Queen’s University. “While this protects legitimate refugee claims, it also creates pathways that can significantly extend the time between a removal order and actual deportation.”
Mutyaba’s case began after multiple criminal convictions triggered what should have been a relatively straightforward removal process. Court documents show the Canada Border Services Agency (CBSA) issued his deportation order following convictions that included assault causing bodily harm and uttering threats.
I reviewed Mutyaba’s Immigration and Refugee Board file, which shows he has filed at least four separate applications challenging his deportation. These include a refugee claim, humanitarian and compassionate grounds application, pre-removal risk assessment, and multiple judicial reviews at the Federal Court.
The delays aren’t purely procedural. Each application receives individual consideration, requiring significant resources from an already strained system. CBSA enforcement data indicates the agency completed approximately 12,500 removals in 2023, while the backlog of enforceable removal orders exceeds 150,000 cases.
“The enforcement capacity simply doesn’t match the volume,” says Richard Kurland, a Vancouver immigration lawyer who has studied removal backlogs for decades. “Add to that the prioritization of certain cases over others, and you create a situation where some individuals with removal orders can remain in Canada for years.”
The Mutyaba case highlights a broader pattern within Canada’s deportation system. According to internal CBSA documents I obtained through access to information requests, the average time between a removal order and actual deportation has increased to nearly four years for non-detained cases.
When asked about the delays, a CBSA spokesperson acknowledged the challenges: “Multiple factors affect removal timelines, including legal appeals, documentation issues, and resource limitations. The Agency prioritizes cases involving public safety concerns and operates within a framework that respects both enforcement needs and legal rights.”
Critics argue the system creates inconsistent outcomes. “Some people are removed quickly with minimal opportunity to challenge their deportation, while others remain for years despite serious criminal backgrounds,” notes Alex Neve, former secretary-general of Amnesty International Canada. “This inconsistency undermines public confidence in immigration enforcement.”
For communities affected by Mutyaba’s crimes, the prolonged process feels like justice denied. “The victims were told he would be deported, yet years later he remains in the same city,” says a victim advocate who requested anonymity due to ongoing concerns. “It creates a sense that accountability is optional in our system.”
Court filings show Mutyaba has argued that changed conditions in his home country would place him at risk if deported. Such claims require thorough assessment, creating additional procedural timelines while the cases are reviewed.
The Federal Court has rejected several of Mutyaba’s applications, with Justice Elizabeth Walker writing in one decision that his claims “lacked credibility and appeared designed primarily to delay removal.” Despite these findings, additional applications have continued to forestall deportation.
Within the CBSA, enforcement officers express frustration at what they view as manipulation of the system. “We have individuals who game the process, filing application after application knowing each one buys more time,” explains a senior CBSA officer who requested anonymity because they weren’t authorized to speak publicly. “We’re bound by procedural fairness even when the process is being used tactically rather than substantively.”
The financial cost of these delayed deportations is substantial. A 2022 Parliamentary Budget Office report estimated that each non-detained person with a removal order costs approximately $34,000 annually in monitoring and administrative expenses. Multiplied across thousands of similar cases, these delays represent a significant drain on immigration enforcement resources.
Experts suggest several potential reforms. “Creating a consolidated review process rather than sequential applications would maintain protections while reducing deliberate delay tactics,” proposes Christina Clark-Kazak, public affairs professor at the University of Ottawa. “The challenge is balancing efficiency with legal rights.”
Meanwhile, Mutyaba’s case continues through the system, with his most recent application still pending. For now, he remains in Canada, one of thousands in a similar situation – legally ordered to leave but practically able to stay.
The case raises fundamental questions about our immigration enforcement priorities, the resources allocated to deportation, and whether our current system achieves its intended balance between individual rights and community safety. As one Federal Court judge noted in a related case, “A removal order without actual removal ultimately undermines the integrity of our immigration system.”
