EXBERLINER Issue 163, September 2017

ELECTION 2017
Berlin is the capital of...
Poverty: 22.4 percent of
Berliners live under the
poverty line, second only to
notoriously skint Bremen. The
hotspots? Mitte (24.8 percent)
and Neukölln (26.8 percent).
Welfare: 1 in 5 Berliners
receive Hartz IV.
Homelessness: 20,000 have
nowhere to sleep at night.
Low relative wages: 5.3
percent need benefits despite
holding down a job.
Who’s at risk?
The young: One-third of
Berlin children live in families
dependent on benefits.
The youngish: 31.4 percent
of Berliners aged 18-25 are
scrambling to afford their
WG-Zimmer.
Single mothers: 150,000
Berliners are raising their kids
alone. One-third of them live
on minimum welfare benefits;
42 percent of them on less
than €1500 a month.
The old: Senior poverty has
increased by 45 percent nationwide
in the last 10 years,
and over 10 percent of Berlin
elderly have trouble affording
their residential care or
hospital bills.
For people over the age of 65, the
national poverty rate lies at about
15 percent. There are more and
more elderly diners at the soup
kitchen in Wollankstraße.
from everyone. Kindergartens and schools, for example,
will let you know you’re a bad parent if you
actually make use of the all-day care they offer.” Melle
finds herself similarly struggling with the feeling she’s
not being heard or taken seriously. “At the Jobcenter
they treat you like a two-year-old. That’s the worst.”
Scoring a job doesn’t always mean a way out of the
poverty trap. At 5.3 percent, Berlin has the highest
number of people in Germany who need benefits
despite working, with more than half of those cases
being regular full-time jobs. Andreas Brands, codirector
of the soup kitchen run by Franciscan monks
at the border of Pankow and Wedding, is concerned:
“Of course it is great if the unemployment numbers
in Germany are going down and people are finding
jobs. But if they work 40 hours a week and cannot
live on those wages, something is off.” Brands has
also noticed an increase in homeless and older people
relying on their services, mirroring recent statistics.
As the Beirat für Familienfragen (Council for Family
Issues) reports, more and more Berliners are struggling
to pay their rent, ultimately leading to more
evictions. The estimated number of homeless people
in Berlin is 20,000 – another German record.
Eating with the elderly
For people over the age of 65, the national poverty
rate increased by an alarming 45 percent between
2005 and 2015 and currently lies at about 15 percent.
According to Paritätischer Wohlfahrtsverband, the umbrella
organisation of German charitites, people had
to work six more years in 2016 than in 2000 to avoid
dependence on the minimum state pension. The
organisation criticises government reforms, including
some pre-dating the Merkel era, which prioritise
private retirement provisions, pointing out that the
number of people able to pay into such schemes is
shrinking due to part-time and temporary jobs as well
as low wages. Once again it’s single mothers, along
with immigrants and the self-employed, who end up
with higher risks of poverty in old age.
At Andreas Brands’ soup kitchen on Wollankstraße,
there is a mixed crowd at lunchtime. A
few older women are sitting on benches at the
back of the dining hall. With their bright flowered
blouses and neat haircuts, they stand out amongst
the mostly male guests. Helga is not sitting with
them today, having her soup outside instead. She
recognises most of the people here, but knows little
about their backgrounds. “Nobody really talks about
themselves. Perhaps it’s for the better,” she says.
Her own life was mostly spent taking care of her 11
children. She moved to Wedding some 30 years ago,
waitressing in a Kneipe once the kids had grown up.
They all still live in Berlin. “But,” she adds, “they
don’t have much money either. Four of them are on
benefits themselves.” When the soup kitchen hands
out surplus food, she takes some for her children:
“The other week I got seven perfectly good bell peppers!
I immediately called my son, and he came to
pick them up for his family. He asked if I could bring
vegetables like that more regularly, but they don’t always
have them here.” Helga’s husband passed away
several years ago, leaving her alone in her flat next to
the S-Bahn station Wollankstraße. “I didn’t qualify
for housing benefits because my rent was too high,
by just a few cents.” She smiles wryly, then continues
spooning her soup. For people like her, who didn’t
work enough to qualify for a proper pension, the minimum
provided by the state (€409 per month, same
as Hartz IV) falls short of a decent living. “When we
still had the deutschmark, it was easier,” Helga sighs.
As the euro was introduced, everything became more
expensive. For now, she is looking forward to a party
the soup kitchen is organising in the coming days,
when they’ll finally serve food other than soup or
stew. “I’ll probably get a bratwurst!” Another one of
those smiles, a cheerful one this time.
Asked whether she will vote in the election, Helga’s
eyes widen. “I don’t know... We won’t get anything
better anyway, that’s what I think.” A grey-haired
man standing nearby chimes in: “All those politicians,
they don’t care about us. We cannot rely on them.
In this system, all we can do is fend for ourselves.”
He says he’s getting by thanks to the soup kitchen,
and shrugs: “That’s the reality; no point looking at it
through rose-coloured glasses.”
As for Brother Andreas, he makes sure that this
reality doesn’t get overlooked. When he gives monastery
visitors a tour of the city, he shows them the
“glamorous parts” but never forgets to bring them
here as well. Many are surprised, he says, especially
guests from Africa and Latin America. “Of course
poverty looks different here than it does in other
parts of the world, but this is not something they
expect to see in Germany.” n
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EXBERLINER 163