It takes a village.

I have been hoping to be able to write a post with this title for over a year.

Several times, as things were dragging on, I started, trying to write a comprehensive and understandable report of what was and had been happening, and failed. And things weren’t finished yet… This all sounds mysterious, and I still don’t know whether I will be able to put this into coherent writing. But it was an imminent part of my (terrible) past year, and I feel the need to get it out of my system. In fact, it was the beginning of the series of catastrophes that made last year so awful, and as we have now reached a point where it looks like things may be on the mend, I will give it another try.

Over the years I have repeatedly written about my work helping refugees, and one Senegalese refugee in particular, trying to find ways to get them a visa, residence, work permit, job, whatever. A means to get on with their life which they had uprooted by leaving their country, either fleeing from a civil war (Syrians), catastrophic political conditions after years of foreign interference (Afghanistan), economic hardship (African countries). 

 

One of my posts was even titled ‘Victory’, because I had thought we had ‘won’. Little did I know…

In mid-February (last year, 2024) things shattered. A small mistake was made when my Senegalese protégé changed jobs – the HR person for the new employer did not notify the authorities of the fact that he was now working for this new firm. We had told her twice that it was necessary, but she ‘thought it wasn’t’. Of course, she didn’t have to pay the price… I did notify the authorities, but not within the two-week period prescribed, and it would have had to be a form filled out by the employer. The result was that my friend’s work permit was revoked, they wanted to deport him. Long negations with the immigration office followed – partly through my husband, who has a very good way of dealing with authorities, and without him it wouldn’t have been possible. My friend had to find a new job, fast. He was extremely fortunate in finding a small family-run business with a strong record of really caring for their people, and the owner has been fighting alongside me like a lioness, because she wanted to secure a qualified and reliable worker for her firm. Thank you, Julia, for employing L. and thank you for joining in the fight!

There followed several setbacks when oral agreements weren’t kept by the authorities, they kept pressuring my friend to get a date to apply for a working visa from Senegal - he would have had to leave the country and re-enter in a new status. This is a favorite scheme of Bavarian authorities, who are adamant that former asylum seekers should not (easily, if at all) get a work permit and qualify for residency from within the country. Once an asylum seeker, always an asylum seeker, it seems. There were several weird instances which I won’t go into detail about, but which stressed me beyond all possible limits - and all of this happening as my father was ailing, finally passed away, my job problems, my husband’s decision to change to a different congregation, my son leaving for university, my mother’s accident and broken hip, my mother-in-law slowly fading and then, too, dieing – until, in January of this year, we finally found a lawyer who agreed to take L.’s case.

Her entry on the stage has made life easier again. She found out some more atrocities that we didn’t even know about – for example, the embassy in Senegal had at least twice asked the Immigration authority to please just make it possible that he receive his visa from within the country (which is a possibility, called a “discretionary decision”) because they don’t know their head from their toes due to the number of visa applications from within Senegal. The authorities’ last demand that he leave the country to apply for a visa from Senegal, which finally caused us to decide to get a lawyer, was issued a couple of days after they had received the second suggestion from the embassy in Senegal to just give him a visa and let him stay.

It's a long story, and certainly my attempt to describe all the shit that was happening can’t give full credit to just how shitty it all was. It’s a tale of bureaucracy and hostility towards foreigners, turning against employers who are desperately searching for well-trained workers – which he is, and the Bavarian state paid for his education. What’s the point of doing that and then shipping him back, or making life difficult for him?

As somebody who has been banging her head against the walls of immigration office doors trying to achieve some positive results based on human intelligence, pragmatic dealing with situations and just basically smart moves I have come to an understanding of asylum seekers who radicalize themselves, pick up a weapon and just go and shoot or stab some people. I don’t approve, but I understand.

In any case – the current situation is that L. has received a temporary work- and residence permit, then had to go to Paris and get his passport renewed (including a bribe of €550 to get an quickly enough appointment before the other one expired) and has been able to officially change his address and thus his immigration office. Perhaps that helps? He now needs yet another application for a longer-term work and residence permit, which would allow him to participate in schooling and training the employer wants to send him to. And to travel and visit his sister, who has had her share of personal tragedies alongside all of this. It’s been a very hard year for him, too.

The African proverb of the title clearly fits L’s situation. I have been fighting for him for almost eight years – and I couldn’t have done it alone. My family helped a lot with their patience, and by taking him into their hearts and including him in many family activities, my husband with the recent negotiations, my son by calling him a ‘big brother’. Mr. G., former mechanical engineer, spent many hours helping L. with his studies for the mechanical school he went to. Friends helped find him a job, other friends let him live in their basement apartment when he was finally allowed to move out of refugee dormitory. Friends gave him a temporary job while looking for a job as mechanical worker. And now his new employer, who has taken over for accompanying him to immigration office appointments which I can’t do any more after my move north. Thank you all for your help, you have been a wonderful village team, I could not have done it with out you.

My eagerness to help immigrants that was once abundant (and brought me many many interesting and wonderful experiences and friendships) has evaporated to just close over zero. I will make sure the L. gets settled, and I will always be there for any of his needs in that realm. But the Bavarian state has managed to break my momentum in this area. I know we need immigration, I think we could have achieved what Angela Merkel meant when she said “We can do this!” 

 

But too many people did not agree, and …

I won’t write about my involvement with refugees again, I think. It’s too frustrating.