Imagine this. A vibrant storyteller, a dental surgeon turned global chronicler of Lebanese soul, steps back into Halifax, the city that has quietly welcomed generations of his people for over 130 years. Dr. Anthony Rahayel, the heart and voice behind NoGarlicNoOnions, is not just any visitor. Since 2012, he has transformed a simple passion for food into a worldwide movement of celebration and cultural preservation. Through unscripted videos, honest reviews, and immersive deep dives, he brings to life the artisans, bakers, street vendors, and dreamers who keep Lebanese heritage vibrant across continents. His platform goes far beyond likes and views. It is about legacy, honoring the unsung heroes who rise before dawn to knead dough with generations of family knowledge, grill meat over open flames with inherited precision, or craft sweets that carry the taste of childhood memories. Anthony does not merely review restaurants. He honors entire lives, entire communities, entire stories of endurance and joy.
Halifax has been calling Lebanese dreamers home since 1884, when the first arrivals stepped off ships at Pier 21, Canada’s Ellis Island. They came from Mount Lebanon, fleeing the deep scars of the 1860 massacres that tore through villages and shattered families. That pioneering first wave planted enduring seeds: peddlers who became trusted shopkeepers, families who built tight-knit neighborhoods and laid the foundations for future generations. Then came successive chapters of hardship that propelled more waves forward. World War I brought the horrific famine that starved hundreds of thousands, forcing survivors to seek life across oceans. The Lebanese Civil War in the 1970s and 80s sent thousands escaping violence and uncertainty in search of peace and stability. The 2006 July War once again tested hope and resilience. The 2019 financial collapse crushed livelihoods and dreams overnight. And then came the Beirut Port Explosion on August 4, 2020, a cataclysm that shattered glass, lives, homes, and the last reserves of emotional endurance for countless people.
Yet each wave carried the same quiet, unquenchable fire: not mere escape, but a fierce renewal. Not defeat, but an unbreakable determination to contribute, to rebuild, to thrive wherever the path led. Our migrations are not abandonments of the past but beautiful extensions of life’s longing for safer shores, fuller horizons, and continued growth. They are acts of faith in tomorrow.
That uplifting spirit is precisely what Anthony brought when he returned to Halifax this year, fresh from gracing the 16th Cedar and Maple Gala the previous year, where the Lebanese Chamber of Commerce gathered to celebrate community strength, shared history, and bright continuity.
This year’s visit carried a purpose. In collaboration with the Lebanese Chamber of Commerce in Nova Scotia, led by Norman Nahas, Dr. Rahayel returned to film a sit-down conversation on the Lebanese diaspora in Halifax. The discussion was hosted at IQ Commercial Headquarters in Queen Marquee, with the support of Amir Toulany, Assistant Manager and Partner at IQ Commercial. It was not simply an interview. It was a coordinated community effort to document the Lebanese presence in this city with dignity and depth.
We gathered at noon on a Saturday in the bright, welcoming boardroom of IQ Commercial Headquarters in Queen Marquee. Norman Nahas and Amir Toulany, two pillars of the Lebanese Canadian community, offered the space with genuine grace, staying quietly in the background so the real voices, the newcomers’ voices, could shine fully. On camera sat Peggy, Mary, Dany, and me: four individuals whose paths had converged here through courage and circumstance.
The conversation flowed naturally and warmly, but one moment from Anthony himself lit up the room with gentle wisdom and deep humanity. He shared a touching anecdote about a Lebanese woman who had lived in Canada for over 50 years yet still spoke almost no English. After half a century in her adopted home, she remained wrapped in her native language, her traditions, her heart fully and unapologetically Lebanese. It was not a story of isolation or failure. It was one of profound, quiet belonging. She had found a place where she could live authentically every day, surrounded by a community that embraced her exactly as she was. Anthony told it with gentle admiration and a smile: clear proof that true integration does not demand erasure of self. It creates generous space to remain who you are while adding your unique colors to the larger mosaic of the city.
That beautiful story set the tone for everything that followed. In Halifax, Lebanese newcomers do not simply arrive. They step into a rich, living legacy of welcome, one carefully built and fiercely protected by early pioneers like Edward Francis Arab the founding president of the Canadian Lebanon Society in 1938. Born in Halifax in five years before the declaration of Greater Lebanon he did not concede to be labeled “Syrian” as was the custom in North America or “Turco” in South America.
Peggy captured the raw yet honest truth of why so many of us left after the explosion: “We were psychologically toast.” Not weak, deeply exhausted. The blast did not just destroy buildings and infrastructure. It drained the inner reserves of strength needed to face yet another round of rebuilding. Yet here we stand today, rebuilding anyway, drawing on the same resilient thread that has defined Lebanese migrations across more than a century and a half. As Lebanese poet Nadia Tuéni once wrote “We will rebuild the house of our soul even if the stones are tired.”
Mary’s quiet heroism emerged as one of the most inspiring parts of our talk. Before any of us had even left Lebanon, she and her friend Dominique created a WhatsApp group for our 2022 cohort; nearly 200 families, most of them highly skilled professionals arriving through a security-focused immigration pathway in the direct aftermath of the explosion.
What began modestly, with just 3 families hoping to connect before departure, grew into something far more powerful than anyone anticipated. That simple digital space became our true lifeline: a place to share guidance on SIN applications, MSI health coverage details, driver’s license appointments, and housing leads amid a severe accommodation crunch. Families who arrived first paved the way for those who followed. They helped securing apartments before arrival, recommending neighborhoods and schools, and sharing checklists of essential steps to complete upon landing.
But beyond logistics, the group restored something many of us feared losing when we left home: a sense of community. Immigration often means leaving behind the support systems built over a lifetime — family, friends, familiar streets, the comfort of knowing where to turn. In their place, this group offered reassurance. It transformed individual fear into collective fellowship. Late-night worried messages turned into practical advice and words of encouragement. Morning updates became shared victories. One person’s excited “I got the apartment!” became fuel and hope for dozens more. What started as a chat became a bridge carrying nearly 200 families from uncertainty into belonging.
Dany, the most recent arrival among us, brought genuine laughter to the room when we teased him lightly: “You did not come for some grand ‘diaspora dream’, your whole village is already here throwing barbecues and family gatherings!” Community is never an abstract theory here. It is cousins calling to check in, familiar accents on the street, shared memories that instantly make a new city feel like a natural extension of home.
We spoke openly about respect, and Halifax offers it generously and visibly. Lebanese residents are recognized as true pioneers: entrepreneurs who start from scratch and succeed, risk-takers who invest with a long-term vision, builders whose consistent hard work earns deep trust. At City Hall during Lebanon Independence Day celebrations, then-Mayor Mike Savage pointed proudly to the skyline and declared: “All what you see vertical here, the towers, the new residential developments rising, much of that’s Lebanese.” Vertical. Visible. Lasting. From the cranes along the waterfront to the small shops that fill streets with the aroma of za’atar, fresh bread, and warmth, our collective impact actively shapes the city we now proudly call home. After his appointment as Lt governor, he sincerely declacre: I am proud to be the first Irish Lebanese among you. That was during the famous gala followed by a similar declaration by Mayor Andy Philmore about being Scottish-Lebanese.
For me personally, the journey was never a straight line. Through the Atlantic Immigration Program, Halifax was always the intended destination. Family softened the landing. Cousin Mehsen Nakad opened his home during that first challenging month. We navigated the essential basics together with no unnecessary drama, because we are built tough and came prepared. Initial plans were clear: activate permanent residence, then return by 2025 due to job commitments back home. But life has its own way of redirecting paths. Our only son decided to move from the Lebanese American University in Lebanon to Dalhousie. That single fact changed everything. My wife chose to stay. The back-and-forth travel gradually faded away. Halifax became permanent, not imposed by force, but welcomed through flourishing new possibilities for education, stability, and family growth.
A beautiful, unexpected surprise unfolded toward the end of our conversation. I handed Anthony a copy of my latest book. He opened it, scanned the pages, and suddenly paused. His eyes caught the Yammine family name. A warm smile spread across his face. His own roots trace back to it; his father had been among the very first supporters of a family initiative I helped establish in the early 1990s, Jami’at Al Yamin fi Lubnan wa Bilad al Intishar. In that single moment, decades bridged effortlessly. Diaspora is never truly scattered. It is a living, breathing chain, a reminder of deep continuity across time, distance, and generations.
We closed the interview on an uplifting note with a shared invitation: join us for a dedicated double Zoom conversation between NoGarlicNoOnions and CedarWhispers.ca, the platform I founded to archive and elevate Lebanese Canadian stories with dignity, depth, and pride. We share a mission of preservation and celebration. we collect and share the voices of newcomers and long-settled community members alike as powerful testaments to strength, creativity, innovation, and ongoing contribution. Anthony generously accepted the invitation. Two distinct voices, one shared mission: to keep our narratives vibrant, positive, proud, and alive for years to come.
This is the motivational heart of our story. We did not arrive here broken or defeated. We arrived ready to rise, to contribute and to flourish. Halifax welcomed us with open arms and real opportunity. Newcomers are quickly becoming cherished citizens.
Our journeys echo a timeless wisdom: we carry the past with us while boldly stepping into futures full of promise. In the words of another luminous voice from the Lebanese diaspora, Amin Maalouf, author of On Identity, “What makes me myself is not what distinguishes me from others, but what connects me to them.” That connection, that shared thread of humanity, is what makes Halifax feel like home so quickly.
If you are part of this vibrant diaspora, anywhere in the world, embrace it fully. Start the group chat that lifts someone up. Share the practical tip that eases a burden. Offer the helping hand without hesitation. Build the business that creates jobs. Tell your story with courage. Support the platforms that celebrate our heritage and our ongoing achievements.
Halifax did not just embrace us warmly.
She invited us to co-create her brighter future.
And we are doing exactly that, with joy in our hearts, grit in our hands, and unbreakable spirit in our souls.
Because when Lebanese people arrive, horizons do not close or end.
They expand endlessly.
And the very best chapters are still waiting to be written.
