I didn’t want to survive. I wanted to live fully. And although I didn’t realize it at the time, I wanted other immigrants to know they could too.

I arrived in Ottawa from Rwanda. Nigerian by birth, I’d spent years moving between countries. Canada was supposed to be where I would finally “settle.” But instead, I felt more unsettled than ever. No job. No network. Just a heavy kind of loneliness.

I tried to do what I was “supposed to”, send out resumes, blend in, stay grateful. But something in me resisted shrinking into that survival story.

The Seed Of An Idea

Back when I lived in Rwanda, I had experienced a similar sense of isolation. All of it changed when I found a gym called Soho. That space became a lifeline. It gave me community, structure, and a reason to get out of bed. People from all over the world who came to Rwanda found a community there. It was not just the community, you were also getting stronger and looking better, which translated to better mental health. I thought I had cracked the code: find the right gym, and you’ll find a sense of belonging.

So naturally, when I arrived in Canada, I tried to replicate that. But I couldn’t find a space that matched what I needed. The gyms that offered even a piece of that community were far too expensive for someone just starting over. And the big box gyms? Even more isolating. Everyone had headphones in, lost in their own world. No one spoke. No one saw you.

I quickly began to lose interest in working out because even as a fitness trainer, I preferred working out with people. I missed the connection. And when I couldn’t find it, I decided to build it.

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The First Step

When I first decided to utilize my skills in fitness training, it was to support myself financially. My boyfriend is also a gym owner so we started building a structure for it. However, I’m someone who loves things that have soul. So I pivoted and began creating what I wished existed; not just for myself, but for every newcomer trying to make this place feel like home.

I posted about it on TikTok, the account I had started when I moved here. I think what resonated most with people was that I was doing this as a newcomer. I wasn’t polished. I didn’t have it all figured out. But I was trying. That video went viral. Our first class was April 13. I was nervous. I didn’t know if anyone would show up. But they did.

What started as five strangers doing squats in a cold park is now growing into a thriving wellness and social integration community — not just for immigrants, but for anyone looking to feel connected in a new place. People like me who were craving more than just survival. People looking for a place to exhale.

What We Do

Right now, we host outdoor group workouts so more people can be out in the open during summer. It’s low-cost, high-vibe, and 100 percent immigrant-centered. I call it integration through fitness, because we’re not just moving our bodies. We’re moving each other forward — mentally, emotionally, socially.

There’s a specific kind of grief that comes with immigration. No one prepares you for it.

The grief of leaving behind who you were.

The grief of being hyper-qualified back home and invisible here.

The grief of missing weddings, birthdays, and funerals.

The grief of watching yourself shrink to fit into a system that only values your labour — not your dreams.

Ottawa Fitnest is my refusal to shrink. Because I want other immigrants to know: it is possible.

Just five months after arriving in Canada, I received a grant from the Social Planning Council of Ottawa to grow the program — something I never thought was possible so soon. Ottawa Fitnest was also featured on CBC. That kind of visibility matters. Not just for me, but for every newcomer watching and wondering if they’re allowed to dream here.

This isn’t the immigrant story we usually hear.

But maybe it should be.

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Why It Matters

I didn’t want to wake up five years from now and realize I’d built a life I didn’t recognize. I wanted to build something honest, bold, and healing. A space where newcomers don’t have to apologize for being new, or foreign, or different.

I think a lot about the newcomers who show up to our sessions silent and unsure; and leave laughing, or saying, “I met X.”, “they dropped me off at home”, “they advised me on XYZ”.

That’s what we do.

And yes, some people still say, “That’s not realistic. You should get a real job.” But I believe in showing immigrants the options we’re never told about. You don’t have to disappear into a survival job if you don’t want to. You can take up space. You can build something even before you feel “settled.”

There’s so much noise around what integration is supposed to look like.

But sometimes, it’s not just about helping with employment and language skills, we also need a place to be seen. To move. Which is where social fitness and wellness comes in.

Ottawa Fitnest is more than a fitness brand. It’s a reclamation of agency.

It’s saying, I get to decide how I integrate. I get to build something that reflects me.

So no, I didn’t know I’d be doing this when I got here. But I saw a gap, and I chose to fill it.

And I’m just getting started.

My dream is to open a fitness studio that feels like home. A place where friendly, approachable coaches support you through every workout; not just physically, but emotionally too. I envision a space within the studio where people can just be. No pressure to rush home, no pretending to have it all together. A true third space where newcomers and locals alike can connect, build community, and lift each other up. And most importantly, it will be affordable. Because the people who need it most shouldn’t be priced out of wellness.