“Good morning, good afternoon”: For four years now, Bruno Niederhäuser has been greeting passengers five times a week at Bern’s train station. He is at his post from 6:30 to 9:00, in front of him is a table with a Donald Duck figurine, a sparkling butterfly and a chain of lights – and, of course, a bowl for coins. His turnover remains a trade secret, he estimates the number of greetings per day at 500. For many people, a 56-year-old man is the first contact in the morning. In any case, he is the first to say a few kind words to you.
In other words: a person has discovered a market gap, and even more so an emotional gap.
Niederhäuser was three years old when his parents separated. He just got into the house, at the age of six he was hired by a farmer. At that time, he was annoyed – the farmer, but in fact the whole village, as Niederhäuser says. He became a bricklayer and then a major cocaine dealer. In total, he spent 13 years in prison. The drugs are long gone, he claims. Today he works as an artist, creates wooden sculptures and paints, goes to beg, because the social security system supposedly guarantees him a living wage. “But the word speaks for itself: minimum. You can’t live a decent life with that.” For Niederhäuser, a decent life includes a new apartment. He is looking for one or two rooms in or around Bern, which can cost a maximum of 1200 francs. Pets must be allowed.
A few hundred meters in the direction of the Berengraben, Ramadan Mohamed is selling Surprise magazines. At least he wants to. On a good day, he threw ten magazines. He earns three francs per issue; however, the tip is much more important. “Today there are days when I don’t sell a single issue.” A 51-year-old man notices that people need less cash every day, and therefore they no longer have it with them. However, this is not the only thing. “It is also connected with the war in Ukraine. Everything is getting more expensive, people should watch their money and save more.”
Mohamed knows war. He was drafted at the age of 14 and served in the Eritrean army for 15 years. His mobile phone contains old photos of himself and other soldiers who died in the war against Ethiopia. In 2000, Mohamed went to prison after criticizing a manager where he was tortured. Since then, he has been suffering from severe back pain. In the December cold in the center of Bern, he feels it especially. “It’s better if I go back and forth,” he says. He can’t stand still, only sitting is more painful.
Mohamed says he is an optimist. Although now he is tormented by a lack of money. He is entitled to 977 francs of social assistance per month. A subscription to public transport costs 79 francs, a mobile phone 40 francs. In addition, there is an electricity bill of 155 francs every three months. That leaves about 25 francs a day for food, clothing and medicine.
But what Mohamed fears most is not his financial situation, but the possibility of the war spreading to Switzerland. “First the war was in Africa, then in the Middle East, now in Europe. Why shouldn’t he be here with us soon?” What oppresses him most is not his own fate, but the fate of the Swiss. “They don’t know what to expect. They have always lived in freedom and peace. You don’t know war. If war comes, they will suffer especially.”
Bruno Niederhäuser and Ramadan Mohamed are two completely different characters with very different life stories and perspectives. They are united by poverty. It is the experience that others have made life difficult for them.
And this is concern for the well-being of their fellows.