TingTing Biao vividly recalls the moment when she discovered she had lost everything, including tens of thousands of dollars in savings, due to an immigration scheme that left her financially destitute and emotionally scarred. A donated loaf of bread became the only sustenance she could provide for her child. During an interview in Saskatoon in August, Biao emotionally shared that her daughter was only able to have one meal a day.
Instead of embarking on a new life in Canada, Biao found herself back in China, cautioning others about her harrowing experience—a dream that morphed into a nightmare. In January, Biao and her husband arrived in Canada on tourist visas with their six-year-old daughter, aiming to explore opportunities for permanent relocation.
Biao entered into an agreement with Jun Su and June HR Solutions in Saskatoon, being referred to the immigration company by a friend with the belief that a Chinese agent would be trustworthy. Su provided immigration advice to Biao, presenting what seemed like a straightforward route to permanent residency for a hefty cost of up to $110,000, of which Biao paid $40,000 before discontinuing the arrangement.
An expert informed CBC that the typical cost of hiring an immigration consultant for a process similar to Biao’s is between $5,000 and $10,000, significantly lower than what Biao was charged. Su is not a licensed immigration consultant, and the College of Immigration and Citizenship Consultants (CICC) stressed that unlicensed individuals offering Canadian immigration advice for a fee are unauthorized practitioners.
CBC scrutinized Biao’s contract with June HR Solutions, outlining payments totaling $110,000 tied to various immigration steps leading to permanent residency. Consultants are expected to establish fair and reasonable fees according to CICC, but the regulatory body cannot monitor the exact amounts charged by agents.
After paying $20,000 upfront and another $20,000 following a successful labor market impact assessment (LMIA), Biao’s application for a work permit was rejected by Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada. Su then suggested a costly detour involving a $100,000 investment in a business in the Northwest Territories, which Biao did not meet the requirements for.
Realizing she had no viable options, Biao terminated the contract, depleting her savings and leaving her with no prospects in Canada, forcing her to return to China. Most of Biao’s interactions were with Su, who is not a regulated immigration consultant. Su referred to her husband, Zheng Tao Liu, as “lawyer Liu” in conversations, although Liu is not authorized to practice law in Saskatchewan.
Su refuted Biao’s claims, stating that she assists her licensed consultant husband and provides advice based on his guidance and her experience. She defended the fees charged, asserting that Biao agreed to them at the contract’s signing. Kurland, an immigration lawyer, highlighted the lack of oversight in regulating immigration agents, emphasizing the need for stronger protections for vulnerable individuals like Biao.
Biao, still haunted by the trauma of her experience, hopes to alert other foreign nationals and newcomers to potential scams. The lasting impact of the scheme continues to affect her family, with Biao sharing her story in a bid to prevent others from falling victim to similar schemes.