If you’ve ever taken an Uber in downtown Toronto, you’ll likely notice a pattern: 8 out of 10 drivers are immigrants. But do you take the time to engage with them and hear their stories?

For me, each Uber ride is an opportunity—a rare window into a life that might otherwise remain unseen. I treasure these moments, as they offer a glimpse into a world of personal narratives and experiences that are as diverse as the city itself.

Here are a few of the stories that stood out to me during my rides over the past week.

#1: Pediatrician
I remember getting into a seven-seat van one morning—one of those UberXXLs that occasionally arrive even when you’ve only booked an UberX. The driver looked a bit different, so we struck up a conversation.

He told me he had emigrated from Afghanistan to Canada with his wife and six children. He was once a pediatrician in Afghanistan, but his decision to leave came after his 13-year-old daughter began threatening to commit suicide following the Taliban’s closure of all girls’ schools in the country.

“How is your daughter now?” I asked. “Does she feel better?” He smiled, “She’s 16 now. Happy. She dreams of attending medical school and becoming a cardiologist.”

“Cardiology is one of the most competitive and challenging fields in medicine,” I remarked, “I used to work at a medical center.”

“Yes,” The driver smiled even wider, “my daughter is very talented.”

#2: Construction Manager
Another ride, another story. This time, the driver was from Ethiopia, though he had spent 14 years working in Saudi Arabia as a construction manager. He had been responsible for building luxury homes for millionaires in the kingdom.

“I love injera,” I told him, to which he replied with a recommendation for a Toronto meat shop that serves the most authentic injera on Saturday mornings.

Through our conversation, we discovered we both shared Christian faith, which led me to ask, “Was it difficult to live as a Christian in Saudi Arabia?” He fell silent for a moment before answering, “Yes, very, very difficult.”

He spoke fluent Arabic and shared a deep insight with me into the divisions between Sunni and Shia in the Middle East, explaining the religious rifts that have shaped much of the region’s modern history.

#3: Tow Truck Driver
The third ride was with a 28-year-old tow truck driver who grew up in Toronto.

I asked him why he was driving for Uber. “It’s my second job,” he said, explaining that he was saving up to buy a second tow truck.

“You’re amazing,” I told him. “It’s rare to see someone so young working this hard with such clear goals.”

We quickly shifted to discussing the recent mass shooting at a Scarborough pub, and I asked him if he’d heard that it might be linked to the tow truck industry’s competitive nature.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied nonchalantly. “In this business, if you don’t pay your monthly ‘ransom’ to the big companies, they’ll damage your truck—flat the tires, break the windows. It happens all the time in Northern Ontario.”

His knowledge of the darker side of the industry was unsettling.

Each of these conversations left an impression on me, not just because of the stories themselves, but because of the humanity behind them.