Muhammad curses.

"These shitty people," says the Somali.

He means the security service of the Frankfurt Immigration Office.

The twenty-seven-year-old is standing in front of the entrance, holding the application for the extension of his residence permit in his hand.

The clerk he was sitting with had told him to fill it out in front of the door and then come back inside.

Kim Maurus

volunteer.

  • Follow I follow

But the security guard doesn't believe him and says he needs a new appointment.

Muhammed even has the clerk's room number ready, he just wants to submit the application and then he will receive a temporary fictional certificate.

His boss needs them, otherwise he has to fire him: Muhammad's residence permit expired on November 8th.

It has been known since October how overburdened the Frankfurt Immigration Office is.

15,000 inquiries lie unanswered on the employees' computers. Last week, Commerzbank filed a supervisory complaint against the authority because it had to release an employee who had previously tried unsuccessfully to extend his visa for eight months.

"It was a disaster"

Many of the people waiting in front of the building this morning only have to deal with formalities, an extreme case like the Commerzbank employee is not among them.

They come to extend their work or student visa.

Most of them didn't notice that the authorities were overburdened.

The security service, so the impression this morning, wants it to stay that way.

The press is not welcome here, an employee of the security service films the photographer who is taking pictures for the FAZ.

The two Afghans Arman Noor and Abdul Wahid, who were just glad that someone was interested in their situation, suddenly become cautious and no longer want to be photographed for a picture in the newspaper.

Both have been in Germany for eight years, speak fluent German - and have a history with the immigration authorities.

Noor works for a security company.

About two years ago, he wanted to buy a car so that he could get to his work sites more quickly.

However, the admissions office needs a certificate from the immigration authorities.

For days he tried unsuccessfully to reach the authorities.

It was two months before he had an appointment.

"That was a disaster."

Above all, his friend Wahid doesn't want to mess with the immigration authorities.

He has had a “Duldung” for four years, which means legally: He does not have a residence permit and his deportation has been temporarily suspended.

He has to extend this tolerance every three months, which costs 90 euros.

For four years he has been hoping to be able to work, but has not received a work permit.

"He's home all day," says Noor.

Wahid has already submitted all kinds of documents to the authorities.

But what exactly he should do next, he doesn't know.

"They have to tell us." He currently gets around 400 euros a month and lives in a refugee camp.

"I haven't bought any shoes for five years." Neither of them understands why Noor has a work permit but Wahid doesn't.

"The less I say, the better"

The Chilean Maria Silva was just able to apply for an extension of her residence permit, today it was quick.

She also speaks of the sometimes difficult communication with the authorities.

The student previously lived in Marburg, but the immigration authorities here are different.

A clerk was once very arrogant and kept asking mockingly.

"I quickly learned that the less I say, the better." But not all clerks are so unfriendly, and many of their foreign acquaintances have also had good experiences.

It was difficult for her last year.

For the first time, she only had to submit the documents for the extension of her residence permit electronically to the authority.

For the application, however, she needed a statement from her university.

They only issue the document if students have made a “correct” appointment with the immigration office.

Silva sent off her documents without the document and pointed this out to the authorities several times.

Despite this, her application was not processed because of the missing document.

Finally, the International Office of her university made an exception and issued her the statement without an appointment.

Muhammed, who doesn't want to read his full name in the newspaper, is still trying to get back into the building.

He speaks to two police officers who are just getting into a car next to the immigration office.

The officers come into the entrance area, they discuss and wait there for half an hour.

Then the correct room number helps the clerk, who had messed up Muhammed in the meantime.

The officials are allowed to go in for Muhammad and hand in his application.

A few minutes later they come out with the fictional certificate and his wallet, which he also left inside.

"It was a communicative misunderstanding," explains the police officer.

The clerk meant "in front of the door" in front of the room door, not outside.

She had already looked for him inside, would have sent it to him in the post if necessary.

Muhammad is relieved and thanks him several times.

After an hour of waiting, he can finally go.