Sublets and ghost leases: How newcomers are finding community in Vancouver’s rental maze

It’s July 2024. As my roommate helps me load my belongings into his car, I prepare for my tenth move in a year and a half. He drives the distance from our shared house, my sublet in Mount Pleasant, to my apartment, which is my permanent home in Grandview-Woodland. 

The typical advice for a newcomer is to find a transitional short term rental until you find long term housing. Luckily, I was informed that social media groups are the key to information on the city. I joined every relevant, and occasionally irrelevant, page that I could find. Brits in Vancouver and Irish and New to Vancouver became my authorities. Where’s the best fish and chips? Consult the group. Need a house? Consult the group.

As with 78% of migrants in the city, renting and living with roommates was the most affordable option. In my scouring of community groups, I kept coming across offers of a  sublet, and it quickly emerged as a cheap, temporary choice.

A sublet, when a tenant temporarily moves out and rents to a subtenant until they return, has connotations of underhanded dealings, but it’s legal in British Columbia on the condition that there is written permission from the landlord. It’s a hack for those who lack a Canadian credit history, pay stubs, or references, all of which are often needed for a rental application. These requirements often put newcomers, particularly asylum seekers, refugee claimants, and those from overseas, at a disadvantage. 

But the arrangement can have its downside. In September 2025, the University of British Columbia (UBC) restricted subleasing during its winter term, citing “scams”’, and “unauthorized and sometimes overpriced sublets”, negatively affecting students. 

Nikita Laranjeira is a housing coordinator at the Multi-lingual Orientation Service Association for Immigrant Communities (MOSAIC), a settlement non-profit operating in Greater Vancouver and BC. They help immigrants, refugees and people from diverse backgrounds to settle. The organization “frequently” supports clients with subletting queries, particularly when they are found through informal channels. “[People] will come with certain questions. Is it a legitimate thing? What rights do they have or how [do they] make sure that they're not being overcharged?” Laranjeira explained. 

The risk of being scammed was on my mind when I stumbled upon a two-and-a-half week rental that was almost too good to be true. I copied and pasted a spiel that I had sent dozens of times with no success: British, 28, need a home and hope to make some friends too. Although making friends was a formulaic part of the script, I meant it. My greatest concern, besides stability, was isolation. After a viewing confirmed that the room was real and it was mine, the message I had sent in my search came to mean more than a throwaway comment.

During the brief spell that I lived there, my daily questions about cultural differences and new systems were answered. My occasional frustrations were validated. I was invited to drinks and a potluck Christmas. When I still hadn’t found anything long-term, my new friends kept the bulk of my belongings in storage as another sublet began in Kitsilano. That brought poker nights, support through job woes and offers of snowboarding lessons. Commercial Drive brought a landlord who would kindly recommend me for another unit that ultimately didn’t work out. Oakridge was a lifeline when after a year into my life in the city, I still had no permanent home.

Whether my roommates were raised in B.C., or hailed from a different country entirely, the nature of these homes welcoming sublets fostered an interest and openness to me and other newcomers. Across all of the homes I stayed in, I formed connections of various kinds: close friends, work referrals and people to join for a night out.

I’m not alone in making friends and connections through subletting. Lindy Nham, originally from Australia, and now a Canadian resident, had a similar experience. In 2021, she was preparing to relocate back to Sydney after the pandemic had dashed her hopes of travelling and meeting new people. She decided on a three-month sublet to cover the final stretch, where she met Aron, a newcomer who had lived in Australia for a time.  “He was the one to show me the house and we got along pretty well quite immediately. He would have his girlfriend over quite regularly and then I [became] friends with her as well. And then through her I met a bunch of other friends,” Nham shared. 

Four years later, Nham is still in Vancouver. Although she and Aron aren’t as close, she counts her friendship with his partner and her friends for making the decision to stay. “I felt like they were my tribe,” Nham explained. “I had met a few people in Vancouver during my time here but I just never really felt like they were people that I truly, truly got along with.”

Nham isn’t fully convinced of a pattern but can see why newcomers would be inclined to connect through housing specifically. “I think it is a coincidence but probably more common amongst people who are not from the country or not from the city,” she concludes. “Even if you move to a new country or new city, especially if you move by yourself, you have to be very open to this kind of stuff.”

In her role with MOSAIC, Laranjeira has witnessed a few scenarios where newcomers are eagerly supported by previous newcomers and it leads to longer-term placement. She thinks that there may be an affinity. “Individuals who have their own lived experience may be more inclined to provide permanent housing for other individuals who were in the same experience or the same situation that they were in,” Laranjeira said. 

It’s hard to quantify exactly how common sublets are. At the time of writing, in the last month, there were 28 posts using the phrase ‘sublet’ compared to 53 posts about ‘rent’ in the Irish and New in Vancouver group. Meanwhile, a Facebook group for short rentals and sublets has over 19,000 members. 

Neither the City of Vancouver nor the province’s Ministry of Housing and Municipal Affairs holds data on sublets. A spokesperson from the latter noted that “subletting [is] a private matter between the landlord and tenant. The Residential Tenancy Branch (RTB) is not involved in this process unless it results in an application for dispute.”

The informality of the process gives newcomers more access to housing, but ultimately, the appeal of subletting is a sign of the continued crisis Vancouver faces in addressing the need for affordable housing.

In a quiet bid to rage against the system and benefit financially, ghost leases are a silent but ever-present reality. Lore of tenants who no longer live at an address but remain on the lease circulate around town. Typically, previous tenants  upcharge new ones, turning a profit while preventing the landlord from dramatically increasing the price of the unit.  

As observed by the BC rental housing taskforce, the lack of rent control between tenancies is cited as a major concern for renters. While it exists in other provinces, B.C. scrapped its rent control regulations in 1984. The BC Green Party has recently introduced a private members' bill to reinstate the policy.

On the condition of anonymity, one long-term tenant explains why they continue to lease a property that they vacated in November 2023. “It's a shitty market and people will probably end up paying double the cost if they have to leave,” the tenant explained. “It’s quite nice to pay under $1,000. I think that's still a pretty good deal for them and a couple hundred extra bucks for me.” 

For this individual, the initial goal of subletting while still living at the property was to cover the rent, enabling them to take extended trips without having to find a new place. Providing a place to newcomers was secondary but a consideration. “People just instantly felt welcomed. We are just like, yup you can come in and be one of us and have a comfortable space,” they said. For this head tenant, they would intentionally seek out people who were new to town and trying to get settled. “Somehow it’s different. A foreigner, I think, is more respectful, to be honest.”

There are some risks to this. If repairs are needed, the subtenant doesn’t have a right to make a claim to the landlord, and is dependent on the head tenant, the person on the lease, to request repairs. Another is that landlords are sometimes in the dark altogether or have not given permission, putting the subtenant in a precarious position. In the case that no permission has been given, the landlord can give a one-month notice to end the tenancy under the Residential Tenancy Act. 

In this scenario, the middleman could in fact be on the hook. According to Robert Patterson, a lawyer at Tenant Resource & Advisory Centre (TRAC), “that subtenant might have a claim against the head tenant for not telling them that they didn't get permission, and then putting them in a situation where now they may have breached the tenancy agreements.”

Back at my new apartment I reflect on how it isn't new at all. After subletting from her twice, the tenant decided to leave and offered me the room. I’m back for a third time, only now, having signed a lease with a roommate. It’s my first since I moved to Vancouver in November 2022 and, ironically, the landlords chose not to increase the rent.