Sunita Doobay was at the Montreal airport when she spied a handsome stranger. "He didn't want to talk to me. I talked to him," said Ms. Doobay, a tall, dark beauty.

The stranger turned out to be a family doctor from Brazil who was spending six months observing psychiatry treatments at Montreal General Hospital. They began dating and soon after, Ms. Doobay, a lawyer, proposed marriage.

"I'm the one who said, 'Come to Canada. You're really smart. You'll make it.' "

Her father, a cardiovascular surgeon in Toronto, advised otherwise. He told the couple to leave Canada.

"I thought, 'That couldn't be right,' " said Ms. Doobay, 38.

Father knew best. For five years, while the couple lived in Toronto, her husband focused all his skill and experience on passing the battery of exams required to qualify as a doctor in Ontario. Twice, he scored well on written tests. Twice, he took the clinical test and was rejected. Now, Ms. Doobay is filing what is believed to be the first foreign-doctors' class-action complaint with the Ontario Human Rights Commission. She is alleging systemic discrimination and asking for what she calls a "fair" exam, including videotaping the candidate during the clinical section, as is done in the United States. She also seeks punitive damages and compensation for suffering.

Her husband is not among the complainants. He has given up.

An estimated 4,000 foreign-trained physicians languish in Ontario, despite a doctor shortage that affects one in 10 residents. This year, accrediting bodies will choose 150 foreign doctors to practise in Ontario, compared with 75 last year and 50 in 2001.

The remaining thousands work at minimum-wage jobs such as delivering pizza or, if they are luckier, as orderlies in hospitals.

It's hard for us who scraped through high-school biology to understand their humiliation and despair. "We have been treating human beings in our country, not guinea pigs," said Dr. Rubeena Zafar, 45, a petite gynecologist from Pakistan. She and her husband arrived in 2002 to escape political strife. They wanted their four children to have a better future.

Canada encourages people such as Dr. Zafar to immigrate. But then it erects licensing barriers that take years to overcome, if ever. Incredibly, top scorers on the written exam aren't even guaranteed a spot in the subsequent round of clinical tests.

Take Dr. Emad Abdel-Malak. A year ago, the family doctor moved here from Cairo with his wife, also a general practitioner, and their two children. They bought a house in Mississauga. This spring, he quit his job pumping gas to devote himself to the written exams for family physicians. In April, he scored 77 per cent and his wife scored 73 per cent. The mean was 65.1 per cent.

Last month, the Ontario International Medical Graduate Clearinghouse sent him a letter. "Unfortunately, you have not been selected for an interview," it said, barring him from trying the second phase, the clinical test that includes taking patient histories, giving physical exams and providing diagnoses.

"I ranked, but they didn't choose me," said Dr. Abdel-Malak, 40. His wife wasn't chosen either. For her part, Dr. Zafar scored 77.9 per cent on the gynecologists exam, compared with a mean of 73.7. But like Dr. Abdel-Malak, she wasn't selected for the clinical stage. Ditto for another British-trained Pakistani gynecologist with 20 years experience, who scored 89 per cent.

"Every day I read in the papers that there is a doctor shortage," Dr. Zafar said bitterly. "What the hell am I doing here?"

Brad Sinclair, executive director of the Clearinghouse, wouldn't discuss individual cases. He said the criteria for proceeding to the clinical phase includes CVs, cover letters, medical-school marks, and research and teaching experience.

Surely, these documents were available to the Clearinghouse before the doctors took the written test. If it deemed them unfit to start with, why not cull candidates before the written exams and save them the grief? "It's a free country," Mr. Sinclair said. "They don't have to take the exam."

Ms. Doobay is hoping to obtain legal aid to pursue the complaint. "Otherwise, I'll do it pro bono," she said. "The case is important. It should be addressed."

She thinks she'll win too. In 2001, five foreign doctors, including two who staged hunger strikes, brought a similar complaint before the B.C. Council of Human Rights. In 2002, the council awarded compensation ranging from $7,500 to more than $60,000.

The Ontario College of Physicians and Surgeons, once an obstacle to foreign doctors, is now urging expanded accreditation. That is cold comfort to Ms. Doobay's clients. Dr. Abdel-Malak is planning to move back to Cairo regardless of the outcome of the suit. "All my doctor friends back home ask me about my experience in Canada. My answer in two words: big lie."

Dr. Basel Mohsen, another member of the suit, passed the written exams two times. Twice, he has failed the clinical test. At 34, he said he'll give the exams one last shot, then move to the United States if he doesn't succeed. In hindsight, he wishes he had followed his younger brother, who left Toronto for Philadelphia in 2000. Both are medical graduates of the University of Damascus. But while Dr. Mohsen's parents are still supporting him, his brother starts the third year of a residency program for neurology next month. "He said, 'I'm not going to waste time here,' " Dr. Mohsen said.

As for Dr. Zafar, she says her husband, an electrical engineer, hasn't yet obtained a licence to work in Canada. In the meantime, he put their joint savings into a Toronto grocery store. His partners were three other engineers like himself. "Being engineers, they couldn't run a grocery store. It went down the drain," said Dr. Zafar, who helped out there until she had to study for her exam. Now, they're both unemployed and trying to figure out how much money, if any, they have left.

Last week, Ms. Doobay put up a For Sale sign at her Beaches home. She, her husband and their twin daughters, who turn 5 this month, are moving to Brazil, where her husband has numerous job offers waiting.

Ms. Doobay, a graduate of Queen's University and New York University law schools, won't be able to practise law in Brazil. She speaks fluent Dutch, but not Portuguese. And like her husband here, she faces professional barriers there.

Still, she's trying to keep her law practice alive by commuting to Toronto once a month. "It's only 9½ hours, and it's at night," she said, "so I can sleep on the plane."

jwong@globeandmail.ca