There is no work in Kabul. There is no future in Kabul. And in Kabul there is no more freedom either. “I thought I was leaving my problems behind me,” says Rafi S. (all names have been changed), who has also left his homeland behind with Kabul, “and now I have new ones here again.” And his biggest problem is the landlord of the apartment where the Afghan has lived for five years. Everything went well for a long time, he says, he paid his rent, the additional costs extra, 100 euros, as it was in his contract. Then at the end of last year the request came to pay additional costs, more than 3000 euros by the end of February. “Why?” asks the young man, who obviously has trouble keeping his desperation in check.
The young family has not yet been able to find an affordable apartment
In any case, the matter went to court, the lawyer that Rafi S. had brought to help was of no use to him. The process ended with a settlement. This can be learned from the Ebersberg youth welfare office, which got involved in the case a few days ago. According to the court’s decision, the family should hand over the apartment by the end of June. Rafi S. waived eviction protection, probably on the assumption that a new place to stay would be found. But none were found, the few offers that a real estate agent made were too expensive, and he didn’t get others, “maybe because I’m a foreigner?” He was given some time, “I now owe 20,000 euros, everything for the apartment.” But at the end of the year it’s finally over. Rafi S., his wife Ava and their little daughter, 18 months old, have to move out. At the end of the year, however, Rafi S.’s second child is also to be born, exactly on December 31st. The landlord has now set December 9th as the date to move out.
Twelve years ago, Rafi S., who is now 35, fled Afghanistan and applied for asylum here, which has long since been granted. “I’ve always worked and paid taxes,” he says. He is currently clearing shelves in a Munich supermarket in order to be able to pay the 1400 euro rent and to support his mother at home. His father died and his mother was too old to find work, he reports. Under the dictates of the Taliban, she probably wouldn’t be able to either. Without a male companion, his young wife could hardly move in Kabul – for example to come to her German course, a prerequisite for being allowed to go to Germany. Somehow she still managed to learn enough to be allowed to join her husband in May of this year as part of the family reunification. They got married two years ago, and it took two years before he was able to bring Ava here. “It was difficult,” says Rafi S., sitting on the carpet in his apartment. Again and again he pulls his little daughter to him, who frolics around him and his wife.
They don’t have a lot of furniture – and maybe soon there won’t be any room for it anyway
She still has enough space because there is almost no furniture in the living room. A sofa, nothing else, not even a table. There are only carpets here, on which Ava places a tray with hot tea. She doesn’t say a word, she comes from a small village in Afghanistan, she’s still unsure of German, but she smiles when her little daughter gives the visitor a ball to play with. “I haven’t bought anything for December 31st,” says Rafi, looking at his wife’s stomach, December 31st. is the date of birth. “My head is broken from all the thinking.” A cradle would be needed for the little son that Ava is to have, a cot, toys maybe. “But what should we do with it if we have to move out tomorrow?” For months he’s been trying to find a new apartment, seven and a half thousand euros deposit, five thousand for the agent, “how am I supposed to pay for that?” After the court case, the lawyer’s fees and the money that he had meanwhile paid to the landlord at the request of the court, the debt robbed him of his sleep.
Then his phone rings, he holds it up, “that’s him again,” the landlord, “he keeps calling.” Rafi wrestles with himself, then he puts the cell phone on the side, what should he say. Ten seconds later it rings again. “Tomorrow, he said, we have to go out.” Rafi lifts his daughter up, looks at her, his face twitches. Then the phone rings again. The girl starts crying, Ava takes over the child. It was only in the afternoon that Rafi S. took his wife out of the hospital, where she had to spend a week because of an abdominal inflammation. If the child is born healthy, they will have a little son, “then you have a bodyguard,” he whispers in his daughter’s ear. The only question is where his cradle should be.
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