Language barriers, lack of offers, unemployment or poverty: the consequences of the pandemic hit migrants in Offenbach harder for various reasons.
Most of the people who come to Ali Karakale are in a precarious situation. They have lost their home or their job, have debts, have addiction problems or cannot find their way through the jungle of bureaucracy. “It’s never just a problem,” says the native Turk. The 53-year-old is a migration advisor at the Arbeiterwohlfahrt (AWO) in Offenbach, which is funded by the Federation for Migration and Refugees. He speaks Turkish with around 70 percent of the people who come to him. The coronavirus pandemic has changed its work. Instead of attending open consultation hours, people have to make an appointment, either in his office or he visits them at home.
“Whenever an extraordinary situation arises, you can see that the socially disadvantaged groups are even more disadvantaged,” says Karakale. 64 percent of the people in Offenbach have a migration background. Many of them are particularly hard hit by the consequences of the pandemic, among other things because they live in cramped living conditions or because they receive crucial information too late. Many migrants are fixated on word of mouth, but since many meeting places are closed, it will be difficult, says Karakale.
The city cannot detect any noticeable high levels of corona infections, especially among migrants. “There is no evidence for this,” says health department head Sabine Groß (Greens). The seven-day incidence in Offenbach is still high at 261.7 cases. Every month, however, different parts of the city are at the top.
On Friday, the city sent two mobile test teams in front of the two largest mosques, where around 80 people were also tested. There will soon be an appointment with migrant associations where the subject of vaccination should be explicitly addressed, “so that they can advertise it in their ranks,” says Groß. It is also being considered to send mobile vaccination teams to the clubs. And not just for migrants: inside.
In any case, their fears and worries are the same, says Ali Karakale. “People have become insecure,” reports the qualified social worker. It is about securing livelihoods, health or the accommodation of the children. Migrant: inside, some points concern a little differently and tougher. Milena Rizova, for example. The 44-year-old came to Germany with her two sons from Bulgaria seven years ago. Until August she worked as a waitress in a Turkish café, four hours a day for six euros an hour. At least it was enough to pay the rent for her one-room apartment and groceries. At the end of August, the boss came to Rizova and presented her with a termination agreement, which she signed out of ignorance of what it entails. “Unfortunately, this is not a rare case,” reports Karakale. Instead of applying for short-time work, as people are entitled to, many employers would choose this route. He helped Rizova register with the job center. “I never wanted that, I always wanted to work,” she says.
Karakale’s task is to show people solutions and contact points. “It is very important that people keep their independence and are not dependent on you,” he explains. He also says that to Mariya Stoyanova. The 29-year-old Bulgarian wants to apply for a passport for her two-year-old son, who was born in Offenbach. Because most authorities only do almost everything digitally or on the phone, the low-threshold offer has disappeared. “This is difficult not only for migrants, but also for the elderly and the disabled,” explains Karakale. With migrants, however, there is also the language barrier. Since Stoyanova has an appointment at the Citizens Registration Office, he wants her to clarify the passport issue herself on the spot. He has a power of attorney signed, which Stoyanova should show in office if there are problems with understanding. Then the clerk could call him.
“There is a great inhibition threshold for phone calls,” reports Alexandra Tomas from the Offenbach volunteer center. She is one of the association’s 40 integration guides. Before Corona, people were accompanied to specialist departments, and now employees have to make sure that conversations on the phone take place at all. According to Tomas, it was and was particularly challenging during the pandemic to always stay up to date. Only recently with the issue of emergency care in daycare centers and schools, the situation changed rapidly.
Hella-Renata Adelmann looks after two single mothers whose children have not received tablets to this day. “They take part in lessons with their cell phones, which is bad,” says Adelmann. The mothers are desperate, the children can no longer keep up in school.
The city of Offenbach has distributed 3,000 tablets, but that is not enough, reports Karakale. He looks after two young people who came to Germany with their families a few months ago but have no school place. Even if they should get a place, it would currently only be possible in distance teaching. And then the end devices would be missing.
“The inequality of opportunity is huge. Especially with the pupils who are looked after in intensive classes, where the teachers cannot reach their parents anyway, ”says Sigrid Jacob, head of the volunteer center. At daycare centers, the integration guides could at least get in touch with the management in order to submit hardship applications for parents for emergency care who, for example, are only just learning German. “Integration has to go ahead, and we want to actively support it,” says Alexandra Tomas.
The migrants themselves become active in vaccinating. Birsen Basoglu (78) and Çigdem Iseri (69) have already had their first vaccination. What bothers the two Turkish senior women is loneliness. “There’s nowhere left to sit down or visit our friends,” says Basoglu. Iseri feels psychologically at the end. “I start crying about everything,” she says. Problems that not only migrants struggle with.
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