When the state abandons the countryside

In small communities like Vörå, integration comes to life – where people meet, languages grow, and the future is built together.

They say it takes a village to raise a child. In Ostrobothnia, we know it takes even more to build a society: trust, cooperation, perseverance. We understand what it means to roll up our sleeves – not just for ourselves, but for others. That’s why it cuts even deeper when the state now chooses to shut down refugee reception centers in places where things are actually working.

This isn’t just about language. It’s about trust. About responsibility. About the future.

Today, I spoke with several immigrants who have built their lives in our region. Some have been here for decades, others just a few years – but they all said the same thing: they felt seen here. Supported. Welcomed. One man told me that in Vörå, it was the first time he felt like part of a community. Not a case file. Not a number.

These stories aren’t isolated. They’re a testament to what happens when people are met with respect and opportunity. They’re proof that rural integration isn’t a dream – it’s already a reality. And it’s working.

For over thirty years, municipalities like Vörå and Vaasa have welcomed people fleeing war and persecution – not because it was easy, but because it was right. These reception centers have grown into something more than temporary shelters. They’ve become engines of local development. Places where newcomers and locals meet, where internships lead to jobs, where empty houses become homes again, and schools are filled with new life. It’s here, in everyday life, that communities are built – not in spreadsheets drawn up at the Finnish Immigration Service.

So why are those who stepped up now being punished?

By closing down what works, the government sends a clear message: taking responsibility doesn’t pay off. Investing in people doesn’t pay off. And above all – rural Finland doesn’t count.

At the very moment when small towns are crying out for new residents, when local businesses are struggling to find workers, and when we need every ounce of vitality in every region, the state chooses to centralize reception into larger, mostly Finnish-speaking cities. As if the need for immigration, integration, and renewal only existed in urban centers.

But the truth is quite the opposite.It is here – in the small municipalities, in the bilingual communities, in the tight-knit villages – where integration often succeeds best. Because here, people see each other. Because the distances are short, both literally and socially. Because there’s a surplus of human warmth, not a deficit.

The Swedish People’s Party (SFP/RKP) believes that freedom must go hand in hand with responsibility. And the responsibility our Ostrobothnian communities have taken – for people, for society, for Finland’s future – deserves recognition, not dismantling.

So what kind of country do we want to be?

A country that centralizes, cuts, and forgets the local?Or one that sees initiative, community, and compassion as the foundation of its future – even outside the big cities?

Ostrobothnia has shown that it works. That we can welcome, integrate, and grow something lasting – together. Let’s not allow that experience to be wasted. We’ve already invested in a society where everyone has a place. Now it’s time for the state to do the same.

Because rural Finland is not a problem to be managed – it’s a resource to be valued.