When I first entered Canada’s Startup Visa journey, almost everything I heard was about supporting innovative companies, attracting international entrepreneurs, and helping founders build businesses that could contribute to the Canadian economy. Coming from the startup ecosystem, that idea made sense to me. Canada was presenting itself as a place where founders could bring ideas, build companies, create jobs, and become part of a larger innovation community.

Over time, however, my experience became very different from what I had expected. It gradually became clear to many of us that the Startup Visa program was receiving far less attention than a program built around entrepreneurship should have. Processing times continued to grow, uncertainty became normal, and founders who had already invested years of work, money, and energy into their companies were left without a clear timeline for when they could actually enter Canada and build those businesses.

For me, being an Iranian entrepreneur added another layer to that process.

Founders from different countries do not always experience the immigration system in the same way. A work permit application that may be processed within weeks for applicants from many countries can become a much longer and more uncertain process for an Iranian applicant. In my case, I waited around ten months for my first work permit decision, only to receive a refusal that I could not reconcile with the documentation I had submitted.

I then hired a lawyer and spent additional time and money challenging the decision. The case eventually reached a settlement and was sent back for reconsideration. Around three months later, I received another refusal, this time for reasons that I found even more difficult to understand.

What was particularly frustrating was the speed of both decisions once the files were actually opened. From the timing and the content of the refusal letters, it appeared to me that the applications had been decided without meaningful consideration of much of the supporting material I had provided. I had submitted letters, supporting documents, recommendations, and information explaining both my background and the startup, yet the decisions did not seem to engage with much of that material.

After spending years building a company, completing accelerator programs, preparing documentation, receiving professional feedback, and trying to follow every required step, reaching this point was difficult to accept.

But eventually the frustration turned into something more useful.

I started thinking about whether founders in similar situations could organize instead of dealing with the problem individually. I soon connected with others who were facing the same uncertainty, and we began discussing how we could collectively ask IRCC for greater transparency, accountability, and a realistic approach to processing Startup Visa applications.

That eventually became a larger movement, and I became one of its founding members.

For me, joining this group was not simply about trying to accelerate my own immigration file. By that point, I had met too many founders who had invested years of their lives into the same process. Many had built companies, raised money, completed accelerator programs, hired professionals, and made major personal decisions based on a program that Canada itself had created to attract entrepreneurs.

If the system was not working, I felt that simply waiting quietly was no longer enough.

What started as conversations between a small number of frustrated applicants gradually became something much larger.

We began organizing, sharing information, and trying to make the problem visible outside the community of Startup Visa applicants. Over time, members of the movement helped organize several public rallies in Canada, bringing founders and families together to speak openly about the delays and the uncertainty surrounding the program.

We also launched two petitions. The first helped us build public awareness and bring applicants together around a common message. The second moved the issue into a more formal political process through the House of Commons, where the concerns of Startup Visa applicants could no longer remain only an online discussion.

One of the most important developments was getting members of Parliament involved. Several Conservative MPs began engaging with the issue, and eventually questions about the Startup Visa backlog and IRCC’s handling of the program reached Parliament itself. For a group that had started simply because applicants felt they were being ignored, seeing the issue raised directly in front of the Minister was an important moment.

I had previously been involved in efforts that influenced internal policies and organizational decisions in Iran, but this was my first experience of contributing to political advocacy in another country. It did not solve the problem yet, but it proved that organized pressure could move the conversation beyond emails, web forms, and individual complaints.

Almost fourteen months have now passed since we began this movement, and the movement has not disappeared. If anything, it has become more organized and determined. We are continuing to explore political, public, and legal ways to demand transparency and accountability for applicants who have spent years waiting for decisions that can determine the direction of their companies and their lives.

My own situation has changed during that time.

Personally, I no longer see Canada as the only or even the most realistic place to launch MindXR. After years of waiting, I have started looking seriously at other countries and startup ecosystems where I can finally move forward with the company instead of keeping it in a permanent state of preparation.

But moving on from Canada does not mean that I am willing to simply forget what happened.

A significant amount of time, money, energy, and opportunity was invested in this process, not only by me, but by thousands of founders and their families. Many of us made decisions based on a program that invited entrepreneurs to build their future in Canada. I do not believe that those years should simply disappear into a backlog without accountability.

So even if my own startup eventually continues its journey somewhere else, I intend to remain involved.

At this point, the movement is no longer only about my application or my plans for Canada. It is also about the people who are still waiting, the commitments they made, and the expectation that a public immigration program should operate with a reasonable level of transparency and responsibility.

As a founder, I have learned that sometimes the best decision is to change direction.

But changing direction is not the same as giving up.

Behnam Razipour · August 12, 2026