A personal story of a young family.
The youth welfare office asked me to take on the case. She was seven months old at the time; her mother, a Ukrainian (21), and her father from Turkmenistan (33), had fled the war in Ukraine. Actually, her mother and father had fled Ukraine separately (February 2023) and had met in a collective accommodation and fallen in love. The product of their love was Alina. Place of birth: Aschaffenburg.
The difficulties began immediately. She, a Ukrainian, loved and favored by the German authorities, and he, an Uzbek who actually did not need to flee the war in Ukraine because he could not be called up for military service (that was the logic behind it). And if he wanted to flee, then please go to Turkmenistan and not to Germany.
Everyone is welcome here: Syrians, Afghans, Africans, everyone – but not Turkmen, who come via Ukraine because that is where their lives are centered. But the fact is that the Turkmen was at home there. The authorities in Germany made sure that Alina’s mother received maintenance money immediately. It would take a while for the child benefit to arrive, they said. The couple and little Alina* could not possibly survive on that money. Luckily, many Turkmen helped the family with money. Not as gifts, just borrowed.
The rented apartment they lived in could not be paid for with the money the woman received. Due to the housing shortage, the rent was 290 euros more than what they received in rental assistance.
He was not afraid of work
While we were constantly marching to the office for the father so that he could finally get some amount of money, we were told: “Don’t worry, even if it takes a long time, you will get the money retroactively. You won’t lose anything!” Well said, but the family’s debts kept growing. It was a stroke of luck that Ali* was always able to borrow something from people around him.
“Why don’t you go to Turkmenistan? It’s a safe country where nothing can happen to you?” What a way to look at things. Although the welfare of the child is the top priority in Germany, they wanted to separate the family. The woman was not in good mental health. The escape from Ukraine had taken a heavy toll on the young mother, so that she was constantly on medication. She could not look after her daughter. The entire burden fell on the father, who filled both roles fully. He had clear ideas. He was not afraid of work. He was also an educated man.
In Turkey, where he lived before fleeing to Ukraine (about 5 years), he studied law and became a lawyer. He also had his own law firm, where he mainly advised fellow countrymen, but could not represent them in court. Allowing a foreigner to work as a lawyer in Turkey… Where would that end up!
Staying in Turkey was not possible
The problem was that Turkey is not particularly foreigner-friendly. Hospitable, yes, but foreigners who want to integrate into the system are not welcome. So he became a real estate agent, but unfortunately – this may sound harsh – he suddenly became very successful. That cannot be tolerated in Turkey. The only thing missing was foreigners living it up while the majority of Turks suffer from poverty. But even those who were doing well asked themselves the question: Why does he have to be active in Turkey and take some of our bread away?
He was denounced at the embassy of his home country, claiming that he was badmouthing Turkmenistan in Turkey. Not only did he get into trouble with the Turkish authorities, but now the secret services of his home country were also involved. Staying in Turkey was not an option, and returning home was not an option either.
When the German asylum authority claimed that Turkmenistan was a safe country, I replied: “Turkey is an even safer country, but for whom? I, for example, have criticized the great master and his economic policy and can no longer travel to the country. Turkmenistan is just as safe. If he returns, he will end up in prison.”
“We can’t find the forms and documents anymore!”
“Then he should apply for asylum in Germany!” True, that would be an option, but there was a catch… The child’s mother needed care, as did little Alina*. She had allergies and was given special food at certain intervals. If he applied for asylum, he would be sent to a collective accommodation somewhere – alone!
I found the solution in applying for a temporary residence permit for him, especially since this was the safest way for the family to stay together. Father and daughter were an inseparable couple – due to health and illness. His temporary residence permit also stated: “He is permitted to stay in Germany because of his Ukrainian daughter and partner.” But that was only three weeks ago and he still had no money.
I asked. “We can’t find the forms and documents anymore!” was the response from the responsible authority (and I spent three days dealing with them). I had handed them in myself, over 40 pages. Everything from the beginning and again the statement: “You’re not missing anything, you’ll get the money retroactively!” The poor guy had to keep finding financiers and borrow money to survive.
The next shock
Then, against all expectations – they had waited seven months for it – they got an appointment at the Ukrainian embassy (consular department) to get an identity card for little Alina*. The problem: they had to go to Berlin to do it. Everything went smoothly there.
Back from Berlin, the next shock!
The landlord acted as if there had been a misunderstanding and put the family’s belongings outside the door. “I thought you weren’t coming back!” What was going to happen to the family now? No money and no accommodation. Despite it being Sunday, when I shared a photo of myself wearing a straw hat on Facebook as if I were on vacation, I had to go. Long story short. The landlord said that the family was behind on rent, and not a small amount. It didn’t help. When I asked the landlord: “What is going to happen to the family now?” he came up with a suggestion that no one could have expected. Perhaps because he was Turkish, because the reaction is typically Turkish when it comes to helping those in need in their last moments of need. “I’ll write off their debts and give them 1,200 euros in cash to help them.”
The father said: “Abi (that’s what they call big brother in Turkish), we’re going back to Ukraine!” From now on? “It’s better that way, because I already had this thought during the phase of the eternal waiting for help and that’s the reason for it!”
“Thanks Abi!”
When her father wanted to get something out of his bag, I picked up Alina* and I felt very strange. Just like the farewell scenes that happen when you say goodbye to people you love. What would her future look like now? A Ukrainian woman, born in Aschaffenburg, returned to Ukraine. She turned one a week ago.
Because of the costs, the family wanted to travel to Ukraine by bus. But that would have meant a 45-hour journey over 2.5 days. I found a train connection that took them to the Ukrainian border and was affordable. In Turkish, he said: “Abi, thank you for everything, you were our stop in Germany.” Luckily, I had my sunglasses on. I am not prepared for beautiful words that go straight to the heart. A tear can easily travel.
Things didn’t get any better when I hugged Alina* one last time and smelled her baby shampoo. “Thanks again for everything, Abi!” Then things got even better for me, because she, who I had never heard say anything in all that time, had apparently overheard “Abi” and said: “Thank you, Abi!” That was too much of a good thing. Here’s to good times, dear family, take care of “my” Alina*!
Name changed
Ahmet Refii Dener Turkey expert, business consultant, youth coach from Lower Franconia, who is against supervised thinking and therefore writes for Achgut.com. You can find more from him on his Facebook page and atInstagram
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