My name is Sam, and I am an African migrant who arrived in Germany five years ago. Like many, I came here with dreams of building a better life, full of optimism and hope for the future. I first arrived in the northern region of Germany, known as North Rhine-Westphalia (NRW), where my initial experiences were positive. The people were welcoming, and I felt optimistic that Germany could become a home for me. However, this hope was soon tested when I was transferred to the eastern region of Saxony-Anhalt.
The Reality of Life in Saxony-Anhalt: Facing Hostility
Saxony-Anhalt is where I experienced a harsh reality that I had not anticipated. One of the first German phrases I learned here was „Ausländer raus“—“Foreigners out.” Hearing it over and over, it was impossible to ignore the message behind these words. The atmosphere was tense, and the locals’ resentment towards migrants was palpable. I could feel this hostility not only in the words spoken, but also in the way people treated me and other migrants around me.
This environment quickly taught me that not everyone in Germany shared the welcoming spirit I first encountered in NRW. There was a stark difference in attitudes, and for the first time, I began to understand how deep-rooted prejudice could affect every aspect of daily life.
Facing Institutional Challenges and Barriers
My challenges went beyond words and attitudes. As a migrant in Saxony-Anhalt, I faced severe difficulties that made integration feel impossible. I was denied access to German language courses, which are essential for anyone trying to navigate life in a new country. This lack of support made it even more challenging to find work or communicate effectively in everyday situations.
Financial support was also off-limits for me, because according to them, as I came with a visa, it meant for them, that I have a lot of money. For this reason I had no access to financial aid for quite long and my child struggled without health insurance for some time. Even more distressing was the constant fear of deportation, a fear that followed me everywhere. My right to stay in Germany was tenuous, and the risk of deportation hung over me every day, adding a layer of anxiety that affected my mental health and well-being.
The slow processing of documents only worsened my situation, as each delay left me in a state of limbo. These barriers and the drawn-out legal processes seemed designed to wear me down, reinforcing the feeling that I did not belong.
After years of hardship, I finally obtained a residence permit — thanks to my child, who was born here. While this has given me a sense of stability, the journey has left scars that are not easily healed. The trauma of feeling unwanted and living in constant fear has taken its toll, not only on me but on my child as well.
Children are deeply perceptive, and my child has been affected by the experiences we’ve gone through. From the uncertain environment in Saxony-Anhalt to the hostility and exclusion we felt, these experiences have impacted us both emotionally. My child is growing up in an atmosphere marked by mistrust.
Living with Trauma and Looking Ahead
Today, we still carry the weight of our experiences, and the effects of that trauma remain visible. I have tried to build a life here for my child and me, but the journey has left wounds that are not easily forgotten.
As migrants, we often carry invisible burdens that others may not see, yet they impact every part of our lives. Despite the challenges, I hold onto hope that Germany can become a more inclusive place for people like me. For now, my goal is to ensure my child grows up with resilience, understanding, and the strength to overcome whatever obstacles may come.
My story is a testament to the resilience of many migrants who face hardship in the hope of creating a better future for themselves and their families.
Text by Samantha
