“When I come home tired in the evening, I breathe a sigh of relief, because then I take my two girls in my arms,” says the small, petite woman and looks down from the couch with a warm look at nine-year-old Victoria and her three-year-old Elena frolicking around with the big brown teddy bear.
As a single parent, Maria P. (all names have been changed) has to make sure that her girls grow up in an orderly environment. That there is still some money left at the end of the month so that nobody goes hungry. Because that’s exactly why Maria P. left her home country of Romania five years ago. Although the country has joined the European Union, many people live there at subsistence level. The situation is particularly bad in the remote regions, for example in the Moldova in the north-east of the country. In the communist era, which ended in 1989 with the execution of the dictator Nicolae Ceausescu, there were still combines there. This work ceased when the products produced there were supposed to assert themselves on the world market and the factories collapsed. Unemployment spread and people fled. Even an unskilled job in the West, for example in Germany, still seemed to be better than no job at all at home.
So Maria P. ended up in Munich in 2017. She couldn’t find a job as a waitress or cook, the professions she had learned in Romania, or a cheap apartment. She worked as a cleaning lady in hotels. “A lot of work, little money,” she says in retrospect. But it was enough to bring her older daughter to Germany. They lived in trailer homes and almost all of their earnings went towards rent. The situation was a little better in the pension on Burmesterstrasse, and that was a good thing. How would she have lived in the container with the baby who was born in 2019?
Mainly because she was on her own. She hasn’t heard from the father of the first child, who now lives in England. The father of the younger daughter lives in Munich, looks after Elena from time to time and now makes his modest contribution to the upkeep. But the relationship between the parents is strained.
However, Maria P. cannot be defeated. “I’m only a handful of people,” she says, “but I can fight.” She worked almost continuously, always as a cleaner. When Corona came and the hotels and gyms had to close, this income collapsed. Now things are running again, and it is clear that the German affluent society would hardly function without the work of these poorly paid people. In construction, in the cleaning industry, with the parcel services: there are hardly any locals who do these jobs.
Maria P. knows that her poor knowledge of German is one of the reasons why she cannot find a better job. But how it is: She had to quit the language course when the little one became seriously ill. But although she only speaks German poorly, she has come to terms with the bureaucracy and the authorities. She tries to ensure that Victoria, who is in the 3rd grade, studies well. “I always tell her, look at me, if you don’t have a good education, you won’t become anything”. Of course, that’s not entirely true, because Maria P. has already become something – above all a good mother. That’s a lot, and for her children it’s everything.
When the family was allowed to move into social housing in Neuaubing a year ago, everything seemed to be going well. But then the Russian attack on Ukraine made everything more expensive. By the middle of the month, Maria P. was beginning to wonder whether the money would be enough for milk, butter, meat or oil. The clothes and shoes for the children mostly come from donations or from second-hand shops. And now comes the energy price shock. She is very concerned that the price of electricity will more than double next year and that heating will also become more expensive. “How am I supposed to pay for all this?” She has no more reserves. She pawned the gold necklace, an inheritance from her mother, who died of cancer a few years ago, and now pays off small amounts of interest and fees every month. “That was the first and last time I went into debt,” she says. She wants to avoid falling into the debt trap at all costs.
More and more people are getting into similar situations, as the Association for Women’s Interests recently reported. On behalf of the social department, the association offers so-called FIT financial training for people in difficult financial situations. Demand for this free service, the aim of which is for those seeking advice to get their finances under control, had already increased last year. First Corona, then the energy price shock and inflation. Even people who still had a sufficient income and were not dependent on social benefits “can no longer make a living without support,” according to the association.
“There is always a way out of the crisis,” says Andrea Weber, head of FIT financial training. But the people who had managed to get by to some extent up until then suddenly felt like they were asking for help and were therefore reluctant to seek the necessary help from the job center. This support can only be used temporarily, for example with the additional costs that are now threatened.
Maria P. knows that in 2023 she will need more money. These days she has help from her father, who – after a difficult operation – has made the long journey from Romania to Munich and takes care of the children when their mother is working. This is how Maria P. manages to work six days a week, including Saturdays when the children are not in school or kindergarten. Maybe she will have some money left over for urgent purchases, a desk and a small office chair for the third grader, maybe a scooter for the little one and a bicycle for the older one. “That would be our best Christmas present.”