We see “being German” as
something defined by skin color. Being German means being white. And those who aren’t white
are essentially newcomers and don’t have the same right to
be part of society as white people. I was born in Germany. I’m
a German native-speaker. I’ve been to Africa once in my
life — as part of a package tour. It doesn’t get more
German than that. People will of course
ask me where I come from. And I say, “from Cottbus.”
“And your mother?” I’ll say, “Also from Cottbus.” Does tha
t answer your question, or do you still need that
little piece of the puzzle that explains why
I look the way I do? In Britain, they say: “We're
here because you were there.” We’re here because
you were there. I think that’s a very
important part of the answer. Society here must take responsibility
for what happened in its history. This is exactly the right moment
to look at Black German history. And how it’s always been a part of
German history — an important part. Abenaa Adomako’s family is in
its fifth generation in Germany. Ah, these lovely old photos. You see here a typical
old German household — with wood paneling
and fabric wallpaper. You can’t get a better
snapshot of German life than that! In 1896, her great-grandfather
Mandenga Diek became the first African to acquire
German citizenship in Hamburg. Amazing ... that pride. He was known to be very loyal
to the emperor, and very German. My family has a long history
on its “back,” as it were ... which means having experienced
— o
r having survived — a lot. And the survival part
is especially important — as is the fact that
even back then, they fought for their
humanity to be recognized. At what became known as the “Berlin
West Africa Conference” in 1884, the European powers carved up
the continent among themselves — without African participation. Germany then also became a
colonial power, ruling over Togo, Cameroon, German East Africa
and German South West Africa. Even before the 19th century, Germans had been
profiting
from the slave trade. Now, colonists seized
entire territories — culminating in a genocide
in Namibia, in 1904. Meanwhile, growing numbers of
Africans were arriving in Germany. Robbie Aitken is a British historian who researches the
history of Black Europeans. The colonial period is important for the emergence
of a Black community because it was the first time
that hundreds, if not thousands, of Black people were
able to come to Germany. They came for many
different reasons. Several hundred
peop
le, for instance, were brought over
for the "human zoos” that toured Germany
or across Europe. From their first
appearance in the 1870s, these "ethnological expositions" proved extremely popular
with the European public. At the Hanover Zoo in 1913, Ethiopians
were hired as contract workers. They were put on display,
often with their families. Visitors paid an
entrance fee to see them. As colonists were
committing genocide in Africa — back home in Germany, the
middle class were being won over to
the so-called
“colonial adventure.” This exoticization,
romanticization... this idea of “Let’s take the family
to the zoo!” Like we know today. But instead of
looking at animals, we get to see “exotic people.” Except these people weren’t
representing their own culture or communities. It was a staged spectacle
and had nothing to do with who they actually were. The first state-organized
colonial exhibition in Germany took place in 1896 in Berlin. 106 men, women, and children
were brought in from G
erman colonies. Photographs show how
people were racially degraded and forced to be “exhibited.” The colonial authorities
wanted to portray Africans as “less civilized,” as “primitive.” They wanted to use
this image to legitimize Germany’s colonial project — their "civilizing mission.” The Germans bringing culture
and civilization to Africans. Berlin was the capital
of an overseas empire. The colonial administration
needed craftsmen, translators, and other specialized personnel. Young Africans w
ere brought
over to Germany for training — most of them men and
drawn from the African elite. Some were still
just schoolchildren. Their parents paid considerable
sums for their education. The new arrivals called
one another “compatriots” — but they were not foreseen as a
permanent part of German society. In 1891, Mandenga Diek traveled
to Hamburg from Douala, Cameroon. He came from a wealthy family
and could already speak German. He then completed an
apprenticeship as a shoemaker. He was expect
ed to
demonstrate his shoemaking skills in the big shop window. That made him feel like
he too was on display, which made him feel
very uncomfortable. So in the end he changed his
profession and became a merchant. While traveling on business,
Diek met a woman called Emilie. Interracial marriages were
banned in the colonies for reasons rooted in racist ideology. But in Gdańsk — then
"Danzig" in Prussia — the couple married and had
two daughters: Erika and Doris. A highly respected
Afro-German fam
ily, they ran a store selling
tobacco and other colonial goods. The lives of Black
people in Germany were of little interest
to most historians until Katharina
Oguntoye’s work appeared. She was the first to research
the stories of Afro-Germans, including that of Mandenga Diek. I was astonished to discover
that he was granted citizenship. I suppose it was so early on
that there weren’t yet objections from the colonial administration. Most of the people who
applied later were rejected. After the F
irst World War, German imperialist expansion
was brought to an end — at least, for the time being. The Treaty of Versailles resulted
in Germany ceding its colonies. At the same time, French
troops occupied the Rhineland. Among their ranks
were African soldiers — which German nationalists
saw as a humiliation. They launched a racist smear campaign,
calling it the "Black Shame.” That propaganda in
turn fueled racism against all Black people across Germany
— into a far more dangerous form. But from
the very start,
there was resistance. In 1919, Germany's first
Black train driver, Martin Dibobe, and other people of African descent listed their demands
in a historic petition. He was part of the
anti-colonial resistance, which had always been there. There was never a time when
Black people didn’t fight back or stand up for their rights. Natasha A. Kelly is
a scholar and activist who has documented the lives of
people who brought about change in Black German history. Although Martin Dibobe ha
d sworn
allegiance to the Weimar Republic, he wanted to achieve
something new with the petition: equal rights for Black people. Eighteen Africans
living in Germany signed the petition to
the German Parliament. They wanted young Africans
to have the opportunity to attend university or college. They wanted — probably
for personal reasons too — the recognition and
legitimization of marriages between Black men
and white women. And they also wanted a
permanent representative in the parliament — Marti
n
Dibobe to be precise. The petition failed, but it marked the dawn of the
first Black movement in Germany; Mandenga Diek was one of
the men who signed his name. Today those events
are remembered on a commemorative
pillar in downtown Berlin. That's my great-grandad! I
think it’s fantastic, historical. It’s such a good feeling to
know that my great-grandfather was also part of the fight. As the "Roaring
Twenties" hit Germany, Black American dancer Josephine
Baker became a celebrated figure on the
stages of Berlin. I always call it
the grass-skirt era. A Black man had to walk around
wearing a grass skirt, not a suit. Born in Berlin in 1925,
Theodor Wonja Michael was one of the few surviving
Black witnesses of the Nazi era — until his death in 2019. As a child he was put
to work in the circus and in the so-called “human zoos.” He hated being gawked at, or when complete strangers would
run their fingers through his hair. Things got even worse with
the introduction of the notorious Nurember
g Race Laws in 1935. Colonial migrants were
stripped of their citizenship. Theodor Wonja Michael was
issued an "alien's passport" and was rendered stateless.
He lost his job at a hotel. Finding work became
nearly impossible. One of the few exceptions
was a niche market: the movies. The most expensive film of
the Nazi era, "Münchhausen,” required many Black extras to
play servants in a Turkish palace. The roles conformed
to degrading stereotypes that furthered the
Nazis' racist ideology... The yo
ung Theodor Wonja Michael
played the Sultan's “fanning-boy.” Only later did he realize
he'd been exploited. “Exploited” in the sense that
I never played a positive role. I was only ever decoration.
They needed "exotic people.” They needed us, and today
we know we were exploited. The notion of “white
supremacy” was celebrated in many Nazi colonial films. The regime had plans to
reconquer former overseas colonies. "Quax in Africa" was one of
many films to degrade Black people and use overtly racis
t dialogue. In this clip, the protagonist
gestures to the people approaching and says he’s seen them
before quote, “at the Berlin Zoo.” Afro-German actors were
routinely cast in such roles. The “medicine man” was
played by Louis Brody, the grandfather of
Abenaa Adomako. My family and a large
number of African people here only survived the Nazi era
because they were needed for these German colonial films. From 1939 onwards, daily life became increasingly
dangerous for Black people. The Dieks were
among many
families who lost their home and had their passports revoked. Mandenga Diek's
business went bankrupt. Interracial couples
faced persecution. Around 400 children fathered
by Black French occupying troops were forcibly sterilized. Many Black people were
forced to go into hiding. At least two thousand were
killed in concentration camps. The Afro-German community
was being eradicated by the Nazis. The aim was to ensure that there
wouldn’t be another generation of Black people in Germany.
And more importantly: that there
would be no Black Europeans. In the wake of the
Second World War, the Allied occupation
forces in Germany included a number of Black
troops from the United States. After 1945, about five
thousand children were born to Black American soldiers and
German women in West Germany. Into the 1950s, the children
were still the subject of “anthropological research.” It’s very important to understand
that this idea of so-called "races" being unable to mix stemmed
from earl
ier German colonial times. It was an idea that prevailed well
beyond the Second World War. Suddenly it was the
children of the Allies that now posed
this problem — again! In this archival sound from 1952, a West German
parliamentarian uses a racist slur in reference to more than
3,000 biracial children. She says they, quote “present a special type
of human and racial problem. Even our country’s climatic conditions
are unsuitable for them.” End quote. Hundreds of children
were given up for adopti
on, mostly to families
in the United States. This West German television report
from 1957 featured a single mother. What kind of future do you imagine
for your children as they get older? Your child can't go to the circus. Or do
you think the circus is a possibility? — No, definitely not. I’d
rather work more myself. Have you never thought about
giving up your children for adoption? — No.
- Don't you want to give them away? — No. Why not? — Because I carried them
inside me, and I love my childre
n. Erwin Kostedde was one of
these children born after the war. He would go on to
become the first Black man to play for a German
national team. His father was an American GI. I was born here. My mother is
German, I feel German. Honestly! For me, playing for the German
national team was the greatest. Erwin Kostedde was
born in Münster in 1946. His six older siblings were all white.
He never got to know his father. On his way to school, people would
routinely give him the Nazi salute. The countle
ss racist
remarks still haunt him today. It was hell. Absolute hell. Even women — when I’d go into a
shop and maybe misbehave a little, they’d say "Come on
Black kid, go back to Africa." That was how it
was, day in day out. I was meant to be put in a home. But my mother refused to
send me away. And honestly: she had guts. Six white children, and then
a Black one comes along... And people point at you. Football offered a chance
to escape the humiliation. Because Erwin Kostedde
was good ... extrem
ely good... He played center-forward
in Germany's top division: the Bundesliga ... And scored the goal
of the season in 1974, for Kickers Offenbach. Later that year, he played for
West Germany’s national team in a European Championship
qualifier in Malta. But back home, fans of rival teams continued
their racist chants unabated. There have always been
nasty remarks, trust me. You need to be pretty
tough in Germany sometimes. There was a section
who always shouted: "Ten gays and one n*****." The
media celebrated him
— but always as an outsider. The "Brown Bomber.” They could have written "The
Bomber" and not the "Brown Bomber.” There always had
to be something. In 1990, Kostedde was wrongly
accused of robbing an arcade. A football fan claimed
to have recognized him — from his skin color. There was no actual
evidence to support the case. Kostedde was acquitted after
spending six months in custody. I think I was the first Black
child to start school in Cottbus. And Cottbus had a populatio
n
of probably 40,000 at the time. I don’t remember seeing a
Black person before I was 10. I didn't even know
there was such a thing! Gabriela Willbold was born in
communist East Germany in 1962. Her father, a student
from Ghana, left the GDR. She was raised by
determined women: her mother and two grandmothers. She was a very good student, and was selected to be
a school crossing guard. This is amateur footage
of the proud family. There was something
different about me, but I learned that from ot
hers. It wasn't anything
I felt myself. What I saw was:
They all play like me. I do math and gymnastics
the same way they do. Yet something was
different about me. It was not something that
was discussed at home — it just wasn’t important.
And: you could see it! Angela Davis became the face
of Black Power in East Germany. The American scholar, civil
rights activist and communist was wrongfully imprisoned in
the US until her acquittal in 1972. Angela Davis had a
huge impact on my life. When I loo
k at the photos now — the afro look was all
the rage back then. And of course I had an
afro, and I wore glasses. And wherever I went in the East,
somehow I was always Angela Davis! It was a political struggle taken up
by the GDR that was good for me. In the late 1970s, East Germany recruited a growing
number of workers from Vietnam, Angola, Mozambique and
other fellow-communist nations. More than 200,000 people total
by the time of German reunification. But they were obliged to go
back home afte
r a few years, and the authorities did not envision
their broader social integration. Gabriela Willbold's world
remained a largely white one. They weren't
supposed to assimilate. The foreign workers
were housed separately from the rest of the population. So it wasn’t like you were
suddenly seeing a Black person in the supermarket
or the swimming pool. Gabriela Willbold studied medicine
and was already a qualified doctor when this footage was
taken in the early 1990s. She always wanted
to be a gy
necologist, but the local authorities stipulated
that she specialize in hygienic care — despite the country's shortage
of gynecologists at the time. Willbold protested. I suspected it was
because of my skin color. Being a gynecologist means
close physical contact with people, while as a hygiene specialist
I’d be sitting in an office and basically out of sight. I said I could see absolutely
no reason to not be working in my chosen field. She took the issue
to the next level, threatening to send a
complaint
to the East German head of state, Erich Honecker. The upshot was — two or three weeks later, I
received a letter informing me that they were happy to
comply with my request because the city really did
need more gynecologists. So, I became one. Abenaa Adomako grew up at
the same time as Gabriela Willbold, but in the other
Germany, in West Berlin. After jobs in Paris and London, she started working for
an international NGO. As a young woman in the 1980s, she wanted to become an
optician
and asked a friend for help in finding an apprenticeship. She was very embarrassed
when I asked again whether she could find someone
to take me on as an apprentice. She said, no. Unfortunately
they told me, yeah, we know you, but people aren't ready for
Black hands to be “poking around” in a white person’s face. It was a big shock for me —
and very awkward for her too. It was the first time I realized it wouldn’t be easy
to do the job I wanted. Abenaa Adomako wanted to stop feeling
like a stran
ger in her own country and went looking for people
who felt the same way. In 1985, she met a group of women
connected to the American poet and queer civil rights
activist, Audre Lorde. Lorde was a guest lecturer at
the Free University in West Berlin who encouraged Black women to
discover their community’s history and celebrate their heritage. It was like an
epiphany, a relief! We were all there with
our shyness, our needs, our experiences, our desires, sadness. It was great. It enabled us to bre
ak
out of that isolation. And that sense of
community carried us. It was like we’d been
existing in a room with no air. But when we met Audre
Lorde, the African-American poet, she was simply interested
in our lives and suggested that we introduce ourselves
to each other and to the world. That was quite a big deal for May
and me, as we were still very young. At the first meeting
there would be 30 persons and we would be very excited
because for everyone it would be the first time being in a
group
of other Afro-Germans, people who have the
same experience, who without talking about it
— would understand you. I know it makes you smile when I
say it but it's true, it's the truth. Together with activist May Ayim, Katharina Oguntoye wrote a
book called "Showing our Colors.” The project helped them to
develop a positive self-image. At the same time, Audre
Lorde urged them to self-identify as "Afro-Germans"
or Black Germans. It was important,
because until then, we'd always been
objectified in
society. People talked about us. We were the subject of various
political and academic debates. And I think the "Showing
our Colors" project was the first time we
were leading the narrative, using such a political voice too. It was the start of the second
Black movement in Germany — with the founding of the “Initiative
of Black People in Germany” and, later, its sister organization
"ADEFRA" for Black women in Germany. Down with the Wall! 1989 saw the fall of the Berlin Wall — and a time when ma
ny
hoped for a freer and better life. Just over a year later — not
long after German reunification — the eastern town of
Eberswalde made headlines. A mob of more than 50
neo-Nazis attacked young African contract workers
outside a local restaurant. Amadeu Antonio from Angola
was beaten into a coma — with one of the attackers
stamping on his head. Antonio died two weeks
later at the age of 28. Looking back, I just
feel really heavy... Seeing a colleague and
brother who lived with us die ... just b
ecause he was Black. Like his friend Amadeu Antonio, Jone Mununga stayed in
the country after the collapse of the communist regime. They'd both come to East Germany from
Angola as contract workers in 1987. Both had hoped to study. Antonio
wanted to be an aircraft engineer. Instead, he ended up working
at a meatpacking factory. Antonio fell in love with a German
woman and was looking forward to soon becoming a
father and building a family. Amadeu Antonio was the first
murder victim of right-wing
violence in reunified Germany. More attacks would follow,
in both the East and the West. Jone Mununga remembers
the atmosphere back then. What about me? If I went out on the street, the
same thing could happen to me. That was a really bad
time for us. It was like war. And in a war, you don't know
when you're going to die — or when you’ll lose a leg or an
arm. We were terrified back then. It was around this uncertain
time that Konrad Erben was born in the East
German city of Jena. Today he resear
ches
radicalization and is a social worker. He grew up with the feeling that
something bad could happen to him at any time. That meant: no detours! Not going to the playground
or somewhere else after school, but going straight home. If you met with friends, then
at their homes if possible. And when you met outside, then
only very close to home or in groups. You knew that every time you left your
home it was potentially dangerous. As a young boy, he had no idea
of the neo-Nazi "N-S-U" group formi
ng in his neighborhood,
where future members Beate Zschäpe and Uwe Mundlos attended
the youth club on the corner. Somehow Erben sensed
that he was seldom truly safe. The routine violence of the
1990s may have subsided — but not the racism. In 2016, Konrad Erben was racially
harassed by a group of drunk people while on his way
to the supermarket. He called the police for assistance, asking they be
removed from the square. When the officer refused
to come and remove them, I tried to explain again
why
I thought it was necessary. That they were racially abusive and might racially abuse
other people that day. Then the police officer
said something like: "Seems you’re just making a big
deal about the color of your skin.” Unlike young Black people of his
generation in the former West Germany, Erben lacked a community and felt his was a lone
struggle in the former East. But he changed that. In 2018, he founded a local branch
of Germany's oldest civil rights group for Black people, with
only fo
ur people in the beginning. Today he’s a member
of the executive. The ISD have had annual
meetings for the last several decades. Konrad Erben first
attended one in 2019. It was unreal: just going there
and seeing so many Black people. Experiencing a completely
different atmosphere. It was just incredible and
unbelievably enriching. The Black people I know now, who had already been to these
national meetings as children, say it was crucial for
their own development. To have this space for
retreat
and empowerment; to know you have these
awful experiences all year long, but then there’s this
one period in the year where you can recharge your
batteries and immerse yourself in another world. The human right to
a life free of racism — that’s a key political issue
that’s motivated the community. I remember my childhood
as being full of life. I never experienced the
time in refugee housing as anything bad, like that
image people like to create. For me, who was born there,
it was completely nor
mal. I was at home. There
were lots of kids. It was only over time that I realized
it wasn't a normal upbringing. In 2019 Aminata Touré became the first Afro-German deputy
speaker of a regional parliament. Three years later,she became
the first Black state minister. From an early age, you’re reminded of the fact that you don’t look like
everyone around you. Adults especially
make you feel that. They’re itching to
know where you’re from. You're six or seven years old and
think: “I live here,” and
you don’t ask yourself all these questions
about identity or ancestry. Aminata Touré was
born in refugee housing after her parents fled Mali in 1992. At the age of 12, she
became a German citizen. As a student leader, she showed an early commitment
to combating discrimination. Today, as a politician in the
Schleswig-Holstein state parliament, she tackles structural racism
in public institutions and society. “Tell us about your racist
experiences,” I’m often asked — and usually I have absolutely
no
desire to do so, for two reasons. Firstly, because many believe
that these experiences are individual. They start to excuse it and
tell me they’re “coincidences” — coincidences that have
been piling up for 26 years. I've heard it so often: Ms. Touré, you’re always
talking about racism, but you yourself have made it
to deputy speaker! And I think: what does that have to do with
the fact that at this very moment someone somewhere is
probably having problems with immigration authorities or bein
g
racially abused on the street? This pretending that these
issues are all fixed just because you have some individual
figurehead is very problematic. Today, one fifth of all Germans
have migration backgrounds. Aminata Touré encourages minorities
to become politically active. At the heart of the issue is
the question of who's “allowed” to be part of society. And what does it actually
mean to be German? In the words of
Afro-German poet May Ayim, who instead of asking
questions, simply states: "I
will still be African, even if
you want me to be German. And I will be German, even if
my Blackness does not suit you. I will go yet another step
further, to the very edge, where my sisters and brothers
stand, where our freedom begins. I will go yet another
step further, and another — and will return when I want, how
I want, borderless and brazen." Thank you. The third and fourth generations
of an Afro-German family... Abenaa Adomako's mother
Beryl was born in Gdańsk in what is now Poland — wher
e the
family's European chapter began. Even now at 82 years old,
she's still sometimes confronted with questions about her roots. “Where are you from?
Do you speak German? What are you doing here anyway?” What do you then say? "I’m German!" is what I say. Black and German. The descendants of Mandenga Diek show that this was never
a contradiction in terms. Abenaa Adomako's
daughter, currently in London, is now the fifth generation
of the Diek family. It’s their history ... and it’s German history
. I have the feeling that we’ll
be seeing more progress going forward than
we did in the past. We’re not going
to let this rest. We’re here and
there’s no changing that.
Comments
This is very humbling and also a reality that some Black people don’t take into consideration that no matter where you go, our skin color gives us a card that we have to understand we always cause us to be treated differently. No matter where we go. It’s a card in the deck you have and it’s not going anywhere. So you learn how to play with the deck of cards that you have. The game may not be changed. You don’t control the game. But you do control how you play those cards in that game.
I speak really good German and used to work as a cashier at a DM supermarket branch. Most people were nice to me but some people just hated me cos of the color of my skin. They wouldn’t let my hands touch theirs when they paid me and would tell me to keep their change on the table for them 😂. I don’t really care so much about this but it’s funny how stupid racism makes people . Edit: Thanks for the support guys, it means a lot. For those saying it had nothing to do with racism rather germophobia. I have been in the country long enough to know the difference. The vibe alone will tell you that they hate you, cos even when you smile, greet and try your best to ignore how rudely they throw the money at you or speak to you when they are forced to address you, they still end up muttering under their breath how "you" foreigners are spoiling everything and are everywhere.....lol. I know a racist encounter when I experience one. Like I said, the racist encounters are a minority though so I prefer to focus on the positive things that I've got in life :)
I have a nephew whom I lost contact with & he is a Black German. When I was communicating with him he spoke about how poorly he was treated because he was part Black. My brother who was in the military left his son behind. I wonder how I could go about trying to find him. This documentary bring back memories of him.
Working as a Physician in Schleswig-Holstein for over 2 years was the hardest time of my career. I never faced racism from patients, but instead from my collegues who I have to prove again and again I was worth to be working there and many of them would do the impossible to prove everybody else it was wrong to have a black doctor in the hospital, not need to mention all the racist comments I had to hear over and over again...a daily battle just to do my job. At the end of the day I quit with the conviction that some places are not just ready to embrace something call diversity... An anti racism movement is really needed in the North and East Germany
I am mixed race British jamaican. I spent 12 years in Germany. Once I got stopped by the police on the street and they said I look suspicious. Funny e ough, the first thing they asked me was whether I speak German. Then they refused to believe that my name was Aaron as it did not fit my appearance. They drove me home, checked my apartment, then reviewed my documents. No apology and they just left. It was the day I felt like something was wrong with me and the day I decided to move home to the UK as the racism was just too frequent. I appreciate the education I received there but I never felt fully welcome.
Why are we hated by so many? Sad, as a retired American military veteran dealing with racism was the hardest thing in the military.
We all have the same social issues, no matter the country. I want to give everyone a hug.
The most painful part of racism in Germany is that you will experience it even in the university by professors that are supposed to know and do better. Its so painful and disgusting
I was born and raised in Sweden, but I'm not Swedish for that. I am African from Somalia. My nationality is Swedish but my ethnicity is Somali. It is important that you learn where you actually come from.
The person selecting the music for this docu definitely got soul ♥
This documentary was well done thanks for sharing. I admire everyone involved who had the courage to stand up for what’s right,especially Dr. Gabriela Willbold who had the courage to fight to be a Gynecologist. I’m West Indian and living in the US for most of my life. When I lived in South Florida I did not experience racism at any point as South Florida is a mixture of many nationalities. Times have changed and I’ve been in Orlando for a little over 14 years and the racism here is unreal, I’m a healthcare worker and occasionally come across patients are more comfortable with their own race. Most of the racism I’ve experienced or seen is actually from people of color. A few months ago a coworker (Hispanic) called another coworker (Black) a black monkey it was reported and nothing was done, absolutely nothing. The difference between the two is one skin color is slightly lighter than the other maybe 2 shades lighter nothing else. Both women of color. Unfortunately racism is no longer a black and white issue It exists amongst everyone and until we come together and respect each other regardless of our skin color but respect each other as human beings it will never end. It’s a sad world we live in, we’ve come a long way as people of color but nowhere near where we need to be.
DW, is there a german version of this documetary? Could you please post a Link? Thx
It's not just in Germany. You also have to deal with racism in Spain. It's really bad here. People look at you as if you are not welcome, you are called names like: you are a monkey, piece of dirt, etc... the police stop you because they think you are dealing with crime, but then they answer that they are busy with control, in the tram people don't want to sit next to you, but rather next to a non-black person, they expect you to step aside when they walk towards you. But I will not tolerate such behavior and I will speak up straight away and show them that they have the wrong one today! Here, for example, a white person from France/ukraine/the Netherlands (who does not speak a word of Spanish) is treated better than a black person who does speak Spanish. What will be the reason, do you think? 😉 There is definitely race categorization in Europe. I'M LIKE, I HAVE THE SAME RIGHT AS EVERYONE REGARDLESS OF MY SKIN COLOR. THIS IS HOW I SEE IT. I TACKLE HATE DIRECTLY. YOU DON'T GET ME SMALL BY YOUR HATE, JEALOUSY OR INSECURITY! A CERTAIN SKIN COLOR DEFINES NO ONE'S POSITION OF POWER OVER ANOTHER. THIS IS CREATED IN THE MIND FOR ALL HUMANITY.
The fact that A GERMAN STATE FUNDED broadcaster talks about the issues in Germany on its international channels are simply mindblowing. Our state owned broadcasters in Turkey are just being a lackey of the current government. It will take us 1000 years to reach to this level regarding journalism.
This documentary was very enlightening and very interesting. I'm from Brazil, my skin is white, and my knowledge of racism is mostly about my own country, both to black and indigenous people, as well a bit of U.S. racism simply because they import so much of their culture worldwide. I knew nothing about black history in Germany up until now, and I'm glad DW made such a rich documentary about it. Above all, I leave this documentary feeling in absolute awe at the strength and courage of black people for sticking for themselves and their worth in society despite dealing with such awful challenges throughout their lives. I hope to see a world better united by the time I'm old.
Brilliant work as ever, DW. Thanks Your documentaries are always an educational journey.
The answer from the German lady about not giving her child for adoption was heartbreaking 💔. People can be so mean sometimes.
I lived in Norway for some time I experienced racism but am not the one to bully so I used to check them but It was a different story with my cousin she was bullied everyday at work she'd come back home cry and she d be afraid to go to work until I told her to stand up for herself and they stopped messing with her..never allow anybody to disrespect you ever!when they know they can break you the bullying continues .
21:06 Erwin Kostedde is not celebrated enough. This is actually the first time I'm hearing his name if not for DW. Thank you for the incredible work you're doing and the impact and knowledge.
As Africans we need to fix our continent