My travels to Mattawa have always been beautiful. It is, without question, one of the most stunning landscapes in Ontario. There is a unique silence there, a quiet that moves through the air, replacing the sirens of Toronto with the sound of horses and the rhythm of nature. It is my escape. Imagine my surprise, then, when I learned that the roots of African-Caribbean political power in this country were planted right there, in that small town at the confluence of the Mattawa and Ottawa Rivers.
Before the world knew the name Barack Obama, there was Dr. Saint-Firmin Monestime. He is a legend who deserves to be etched into the collective memory of every Black and Caribbean person in this diaspora. He broke the glass ceiling, and he built a house where there were no ceilings at all.
Born in 1909 in Cap-Haïtien, Saint-Firmin was the only boy among seven siblings, raised in a middle-class family where he was driven to school in a horse and buggy. Privilege did not blind him. He saw the suffering of the rural poor and wrote books about it, critiquing the deplorable conditions of the countryside.
It was a trauma that birthed a warrior’s spirit, an anti-oppression ethos that would define his life.
His mettle was truly tested in 1937 during the Parsley Massacre. As the sole medical person on the scene, he watched as thousands were slaughtered under the Trujillo regime. He treated the survivors and buried the dead under gunfire. It was a trauma that birthed a warrior’s spirit, an anti-oppression ethos that would define his life. He saw the worst of humanity and decided he would spend the rest of his life healing it.
In 1945, fleeing political unrest, he arrived in Quebec. He had to requalify as a doctor, mastering both English and French while navigating a new world. In 1951, he was en route to Timmins when he stopped for lunch in Mattawa.
A White restaurant owner told him the town needed a doctor. White nuns invited him to stay. He took a chance on a small town, and that town took a chance on him.
There, he became a doctor, a confessor, a wise man, and a friend. He married Zena, a Russian immigrant who had fled both Nazi and communist regimes. Together, they were a dynamic duo, a rarity for the 1950s; an African Caribbean man and a White woman building a life of service in Northern Ontario.
In 1963, just months after Martin Luther King Jr. delivered his “I Have a Dream,” speech in Washington, Saint-Firmin Monestime was elected Mayor of Mattawa.
Let that sink in.
While the U.S. was burning with civil rights strife, a predominantly White logging town in Ontario looked at a Haitian-born doctor and said, “Lead us.” He was the first elected African mayor in North America. His children remember the big white Cadillac, sitting beside their father in Canada Day parades, watching a community cheer for a man who represented them.
He used his quiet power. He had the charm to flip an insult into a conversation and turn a foe into a friend. When a political opponent tried to use race against him, Saint-Firmin didn’t cower. He spoke on it with such transparency and grace that the town rallied even harder behind him. He was a master of strategic storytelling long before the term existed.
He used his quiet power. He had the charm to flip an insult into a conversation and turn a foe into a friend.
Saint-Firmin was interested in the service of power. He brought Mattawa into the modern era, installing running water, sidewalks, and streetlights. His crowning achievement was the Algonquin Nursing Home, a project that took ten years of planning to ensure that the elderly of Mattawa (including Indigenous elders) would never have to leave their community to receive care.
He understood that a country’s success is measured by how it treats its most vulnerable. He saw the humanity in everyone, whether they were a logger, a cook, or a politician. He made people feel valued, looking them in the eye and listening with a sincerity that is rare in today’s digital age.
Even legends bleed. In 1976, his son Fedia was fatally shot. For a man who had spent forty years saving lives, a man who had survived a massacre in Haiti, the one life he could not save was his own son’s.
The love of life left him. He disengaged, his health began to fail, and he passed away from pancreatic cancer just a year and a half later in 1977. The town of Mattawa mourned him as one of their own, closing schools and businesses for his funeral.
He proved that excellence has a standard.
We live in an era where we often lead with our differences, but Dr. Monestime created a bubble for his children where colour disappeared, yet they were taught that being African Caribbean was special. He proved that excellence has a standard.
He opened doors for every African Caribbean person who has since run for office in this country. He showed us that you can walk into a space where no one looks like you and, through intellect, charm, and grace, you can lead.
As the generation that knew him personally begins to fade, we must keep his history alive. We must remember the doctor who stopped for lunch and stayed to change a nation.
Dr. Saint-Firmin Monestime was a healer who led. Let his story be the bridge that connects our history to our future.
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