Gallery: Balkan refugees in Regensburg Cathedral
In a cathedral in southwestern Germany, 40 Balkan refugees are seeking church asylum. DW's Kate Brady went to Bavaria to find out why returning to their statutorily "safe" homelands isn't an option.
Church asylum
In the quaint Bavarian town of Regensburg, about 40 refugees have sought church asylum in the cathedral to avoid deportation. Most of them come from Balkan states such as Albania, Kosovo and Macedonia. In Germany these are classified as "safe countries of origin" - meaning citizens have no legal right to seek asylum here.
'Refugees Welcome'
A group of locals have set up camp in front of Regensburg Cathedral in solidarity with the refugees. In a bid to boost the humanitarian aid supplied by the Malteser help organization, the locals have called on supporters to donate basic goods such as tea, nappies, cool boxes and bread.
Cramped conditions
As temperatures reach 30 degrees Celsius, the refugees are sleeping on makeshift camp beds in the cathedral, which is dedicated to St. Peter. Among the refugees are two cancer patients who are unable to receive the necessary medical help in their native Kosovo and Albania. Almost half of Kosovo's 1.8 million inhabitants live in poverty, with about 40 percent of employable people out of work.
Threats from the mafia
Bardhok Bardhoku, 43, told DW that Albania isn't a safe country. A quarter of a century since the end of nominal communism, the country remains one of the poorest in Europe. Bardhoku, who previously ran an internet cafe, said he was being pursued by a crime syndicate back home over a property dispute. "We can’t go back," he said. "My children could be murdered."
As long as it takes
Twenty-seven-year-old Ademi Albana was born in Bielefeld, in northwestern Germany, where she spent the first 12 years of her life. After the wars of the 1990s, she and her parents were sent back to Kosovo. She told DW that the refugees plan to stay in the cathedral until they receive the right to remain in Germany.
Prejudice against Roma
Mohammed Shakiri, 33, moved to Germany with his wife and four children in 2013. His wife suffers from mental illness, and his 6-year-old has epilepsy. Ingrained prejudices make life in Kosovo particularly difficult for Roma, he said: "They don’t want to give us work. They won’t let us go to school. We can’t get a house. We have no chance.”
Nothing to return to
Albana's family comes from Mitrovica, in northern Kosovo. Eight years since the country declared independence, their hometown continues to be divided, with ethnic Serbs in the north and ethnic Albanians in the south. "We can’t go back now anyway," Erzan, Albana's 10-year-old son, told DW. "Some Serbs destroyed our home. Two years ago, they came and shot at the house. Just shooting for an hour."
Longing to learn
Matilda and Alberta, both 12, moved from Albania and haven't been to school in months. "I'd love to go back to school," Matilda said, adding that their education back home did not compare to what they received in Germany.
Mixed reactions
Since the refugees' arrival, school trips and tours around the cathedral have continued as usual, with some members of the public stopping to wish them well or to ask if they need anything. Not everyone has been as welcoming, however. DW witnessed one incident where a woman demanded that the group leave. "A church is not a refugee home," she said.