On March 8, 2016, an unidentified man died in the custody of the Canadian Border Services Agency (CBSA). The name of the person was not released, almost as if it doesn't matter already, or as if he had never existed in the first place.
Was he a refugee, someone with no papers? Was he young or old, healthy or not? We don't know. We might never know. No independent investigation has been ordered. CBSA continues to be above all forms of scrutiny. This is unacceptable.
Meanwhile, the fate of another man remains in the hands of the CBSA and the organization's recent assessment of his deportation to Algeria. Indeed Mohamed Harkat has been fighting a security certificate for over a decade.
A security certificate is a tool that allows the government to order the deportation of an individual deemed to represent a national security threat to Canada. The suspect can't see the evidence against him. He is basically fighting a moving shadow.
In human rights activism circles, we call it a Kafkaesque situation in reference to the absurdity of the "Trial" by Franz Kafka. A tool which was initially meant to expedite the removal of a potential "risk" turned out to be no more than a shameful tool to be used in dealing with refugees and immigrants.
Mohamed Harkat and his wife Sophie will continue to fight the injustice done to them in the name of national security.
After the first version of the security certificate process was found unconstitutional by the Supreme Court in 2007, the government introduced a second version of security certificate process where the suspect can be represented by a special advocate who is cleared to know the secret evidence against his client, but still can't share it or discuss it with him.
In 2014, the Supreme Court of Canada expressed "discomfort" with that new version, calling it "imperfect" and not ideal, but not declaring it unconstitutional, either.
Despite all the legal battles Mohamed Harkat and his wife have been conducting to allow him to stay in Canada, he finds himself today facing deportation to Algeria. Recently CBSA filed a report where it plainly concludes that Mohamed Harkat should be deported to Algeria, despite the risk of being tortured there if he returns.
Reading some parts of the report, it seems clear that CBSA never learned any lessons from all the previous cases where Canada was found complicit in the torture of Canadians.
Basically, the CBSA's approach can be summarized by the following: Mohamed Harkat's actions (or "potential" actions) have been amplified, and his risks of torture and abuse in Algeria have been minimized.
Even the fact that Mohamed Harkat has been married to Sophie Lamarche, who has been fighting all these years to keep him in Canada, has been described in very demeaning words.
Using a patriarchal cliché on how a man's contribution is assessed in the family, the report concluded that Sophie Lamarche wouldn't suffer much since Mohamed Harkat hasn't been financially supportive.
But how about trying to find a job if you have been labeled a terrorist or an alleged "sleeper agent?" Did CBSA try to answer that question? Perhaps Maher Arar, Abdullah Al Malki, Ahmed Al Maati, Muayed Nurredine and Benamar Benatta can help them by sharing their own disastrous employment experience.
Moreover, why should a relationship be strictly examined from this perspective? What happen to affection, to partnership, to companionship?
Furthermore, the report goes on and makes the astonishing inference that since Mohamed Harkat does not have any kids with Sophie, his deportation won't be as serious for the couple.
First of all, why do they meddle in these private matters? And second, since when was the number of children a couple has used as a criterion in avoiding the deportation of people overseas? Didn't we see cases where CBSA ordered the deportation of a mother despite the fact that her kids will stay in Canada?
This report is not and will not be represent the end of the ordeal for Mohamed Harkat. More legal challenges lie ahead. However, this report is another serious story to add to the long list of stories about the lack of accountability and oversight for CBSA.
Mohamed Harkat and his wife Sophie will continue to fight the injustice done to them in the name of national security. Meanwhile, CBSA needs to answer its actions to the Parliament of Canada and to all Canadians.
Follow HuffPost Canada Blogs on Facebook
MORE ON HUFFPOST:
Amelia Reyes-Jimenez rides the bus to work in Zapopan, Mexico, Friday, Aug. 17, 2012. Reyes-Jimenez carried her blind and partly paralyzed baby boy, Cesar, across the Mexican border in 1995 seeking better medical care. She settled in Phoenix illegally and had three more children, all American citizens. In 2008 she was arrested after her disabled teen son was found home alone. Locked up in detention, clueless as to her rights or what was happening to her children, she pleaded guilty to child endangerment charges, and then spent two years trying to fight for her right to stay with her children. She lost and was deported back to Mexico without her children in 2010. (AP Photo/Dario Lopez-Mills)
This Aug. 14, 2012 photo shows Rony Molina holding a photo of his wife in his home in Stamford, Conn. Molina's wife, Sandra Payes Chacon, was deported to Guatemala in 2010, leaving Molina alone to care for their three children, all American citizens. (AP Photo/Jessica Hill)
Sandra Payes Chacon, wife of Rony Molina, poses for a portrait at a friends home in Atlixco, Mexico, Thursday, June 7, 2012. Sandra, who lived in the U.S. illegally, was deported to Guatemala a year and a half ago. She left behind her husband and her three children, all of them U.S. citizens. In the first six months of 2011, the United States removed more than 46,000 immigrants who were the parents of American-born children according to Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). The number was first reported in a study called "Shattered Families" by the Applied Research Center, a New York-based social justice organization. Nearly 45,000 such parents were removed in the first six months of this year, according to the ICE. (AP Photo/Dario Lopez-Mills)
FILE - In this July 15, 2011 file photo, demonstrators hold signs in New York during a rally to condemn an immigration and customs enforcement program known as Secure Communities, and ICE's alleged refusal to meet with directly impacted immigrants. The signs read in Spanish "Deportations destroy our families." (AP Photo/Mary Altaffer, File)
Janna Hakim, 18, and her brother Sulaiman Hakim, 17, shows a picture of their mother Faten on Thursday, Aug. 16, 2012 in New York. On Aug. 13, 2010, Faten was taken away from home by ICE officials and deported to Ramallah, Palestine. (AP Photo/Bebeto Matthews)
In this March 1, 2012, children and their families take an adaptation course at the Binational Program for Migrant Education in the northern border city of Tijuana, Mexico. The program aims to ease the trauma of children who were deported from the United States and help them retake their studies in Mexico. In the foreground is Roxana Gomez from Guatemala, who is now studying the fourth grade at a primary school in Tijuana. (AP Photo/Alex Cossio)
In this photo taken April 23, 2012, a man who identified himself as Victor, left, sits on the stairs waits at the Casa del Migrante shelter for migrants, in Tijuana, Mexico. This haven for migrants that once sheltered mostly young people heading to America, full of hope, is now predominantly filled with men aged 30 to 40 years. Victor is staying at the shelter after he was deported from the U.S. and will try to cross back into the U.S. to reunite with his family. (AP Photo/Alex Cossio)
This undated photo provided by Felipe Montes via the Applied Research Center shows Montes and his wife, Marie Montes, and one of their three boys. When immigration agents deported Montes to Mexico two years ago, his three young sons _ American citizens _ were left in the care of their mentally ill, American-born mother. Within two weeks, social workers placed the boys in foster care. Montes and his wife want the children to live with him in Mexico, saying they are better off with their father than with strangers in the U.S. He works at a walnut farm and shares a house with his uncle, aunt and three nieces. But child welfare officials have asked a judge to strip Montes of his parental rights, arguing the children will have a better life here. Such a ruling could clear the way for their adoption. (AP Photo/Felipe Montes via the Applied Research Center)
In this Saturday, June 30, 2012, Juan C, 17, left, teaches his brother Miguel, 13, to box outside their home in Phoenix, Ariz. Juan was born in Michoacan and came to United States with his parents when he was 2-years-old. Flores who wants to become a professional boxer hopes to qualify for President Barack Obama Deferred Action program but he doesn't know if his charges for doing graffiti when he was younger will get in the way. Juan's father was deported five months ago and he has mixed feelings about applying for Obama's plan. (AP Photo/Nick Oza)
In this Tuesday, July 10, 2012 photo, Maria del Rosario Leyva, left, who returned with her 3-year-old boy and a 5-year-old girl from Santa Ana, California last year after their father, Marco Antonio Iglesias, right, was deported, try to get their children's U.S. birth certificates stamped by Mexican authorities in Malinalco, Mexico. Because of the Byzantine rules of Mexican and U.S. bureaucracies, tens of thousands of U.S. born children of Mexican migrant parents now find themselves without access to basic services in Mexico - unable to officially register in school or sign up for health care at public hospitals and clinics that give free check-ups and medicines. (AP Photo/Dario Lopez-Mills)
Norma Ramirez, center, in wheelchair, is embraced by her mother, Guillermina Clemente at the airport in Acapulco, Mexico, Monday April 16, 2012. Ramirez, an undocumented Mexican worker living in North Carolina who was facing an order of deportation, returned to her Mexico despite the fact that the Mexican consulate in Raleigh obtained a stay of her deportation order, when she learned she has terminal cancer and did not want to leave her U.S. born children alone in North Carolina. At left is the father of Ramirez, Margarito Ramirez Marquillo.(AP Photo/Bernandino Hernandez)
In this Dec. 20, 2010 photo, Lance Cpl. Aspar Andres speaks during a news conference concerning the deportation of his father, Juan Andres in Louisville, Ky. Family friend Jennifer Franklin sits at left. The Courier-Journal reports that Andres' 41-year-old father came here illegally from Guatemala as a teenager, more than 25 years ago. He was arrested recently after he accompanied a friend to a U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement office to act as a translator and it became apparent to an official there that he was in the country illegally. (AP Photo/The Courier-Journal, Frankie Steele) NO SALES; MAGS OUT; NO ARCHIVE; MANDATORY CREDIT
Al Okere, a 21-year-old college student at Central Washington University, walks out of his dorm building in Ellensburg, Wash., Thursday, Feb. 2, 2012. Okere, whose father was gunned down by police in Nigeria and whose mother was deported and now lives in hiding after losing her asylum plea, is hoping to avoid deportation himself. (AP Photo/Brian Myrick)
In this Jan. 4, 2012 photo, Jesus Gerardo Noriega, front, poses with his parents and brothers at the family home in Aurora, Colo. Jesus, 21, faced deportation last year after he was arrested for driving with no license plate light. Noriega's family brought him to the United States from Mexico when he was 9. His parents and three brothers live here legally, and he graduated from high school here. He learned in December that the case against him was being closed. He is pictured with brother Brian, mother Aracely, father Ricardo, and brothers Erick and Ricardo Jr. (AP Photo/Ed Andrieski)
In this Jan. 19, 2010 photo, Emilio Maya, left, tries to explain his complicated immigration situation to a relative in Argentina over the internet while his father, Emilio Maya, looks on at the Tango Cafe in Saugerties, N.Y. There was a time, when Emilio and Analia Maya's little Main Street cafe thrived and their dream of life in America seemed within reach. The brother and sister had settled in this picturesque village; he joined the volunteer fire department, she translated for the police. But they'd overstayed visitor visas and wanted desperately to fix their undocumented status. How? They made a deal with the department of Immigration and Customs Enforcement. In return for undercover tasks, they'd get work permits and eventually a special visa, they say agents promised. Years of clandestine assignments followed, a late-night stakeout at a house of prostitution and similar risky work. Then something changed. Emilio was seized by agents, including his handlers, and jailed to await deportation next month. His sister faces a hearing, too. (AP Photo/Seth Wenig)
Immigrants Fernando Miguel, right, with his father Rafael Miguel from Mexico, get help with documents and filling for the Deferred Action Childhood Arrivals applications at Casa de Maryland in Langley Park, Md., on Wednesday Aug. 15, 2012. Thousands of young undocumented immigrants lined up hoping for the right to work legally in America without being deported. The Obama administration's Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals could expand the rights of more than 1 million young undocumented immigrants by giving them work permits, though they would not obtain legal residency here or a path to citizenship. (AP Photo/Jose Luis Magana)
Mexican citizen Elvira Arellano (L), a deported undocumented immigrant who spent a year living inside a Chicago church to avoid being separated from her US-born son, Guatemalan undocumented immigrant Mynor Montufar (R), the father of Rhode Island's first baby of 2008 and his Puerto Rican wife Carmen Marrero (C), are seen prior to the beginning of a meeting organized by the Guatemalan Congress' Migrant Commission on April 14, 2008 in Guatemala City. Mexican and Guatemalan congressmen are meeting to concur on joint actions to reach better treatment for migrants in the United States and the cessation of their deportations. EITAN ABRAMOVICH/AFP/Getty Images)
In this Tuesday March 13, 2012 photo, Daniela Pelaez works on a school assignment at her home in Miami. Pelaez, who came to the United States from Colombia with her family when she was 4, is the valedictorian at the high school she attends and had been ordered to leave the country but will be allowed to stay for two more years after students at North Miami High School rallied around her, holding a protest and an online petition that collected thousands of signatures. (AP Photo/Wilfredo Lee)
FILE - In this Dec. 17, 2011 file photo, Tara Ammons Cohen reads with her son, Gavin, about a family friend in the local newspaper. Ammons Cohen was arrested in October 2008 on a drug charge and spent nearly three years locked up at the federal immigration detention center in Tacoma. She can'
Follow Monia Mazigh on Twitter: www.twitter.com/MoniaMazigh