June 9, 2025 Germany, Mannheim Paradeplatz
At the edge of Mannheim’s bustling Paradeplatz-where trams cross paths, people rush by, and shop windows shine-stood an old man. His posture slightly hunched, his gaze alert, as if seeing both the present and something long gone. I watched him for a while. He wasn’t alone. A group of Pakistani men and women sat nearby— likely younger, maybe friends, maybe just temporary companions. Hard to tell. He had stepped away from them briefly, perhaps to find a moment of solitude. Or perhaps to find something more urgent: food. Cigarettes. Or simply a breath apart from the noise. He moved slowly, cautiously, leaning on a cane that offered more support than the world seemed to. His clothes were practical, not chosen. His eyes were sharp-not lost, but distant. As if he could see more than the visible. For a fleeting moment, he stood there-between flowerbeds and storefront mannequins. People passed him by without noticing. But I did. And what I saw wasn’t just an image. It was a story. Not one told out loud, but one that stays with you.
June 9, 2025 Germany, Mannheim Marktplatz
Right in the heart of the city - where people stroll, shop, laugh, and meet - a figure lies on the ground. Not just sitting, but kneeling, folded into herself, almost melted into the cold pavement. Only a paper cup reaches out, trembling between clasped hands that hold more hope than coins. This photograph isn’t a classic piece of art. It’s a mirror. A quiet, unflinching gaze into a reality we often ignore, step over, look away from - perhaps because it’s too uncomfortable to face. It doesn’t show dramatic action or a spectacular moment. And that’s exactly why it’s so powerful. The woman’s clothing - a leopard-patterned scarf, a worn blanket, a veil - speaks of identity, dignity, origin. And at the same time, of loss, exclusion, and the struggle to survive. Her posture, deeply bowed, almost in worship, feels like a silent prayer - to all of us. To our shared humanity.Some will pass by without a glance. Others may pause briefly, drop a coin, and move on. But those who really look will see more than just poverty. They will see a system that fails. A society that chooses who deserves warmth. A city that shines - but not for everyone.
This image was taken at the Marktplatz in Mannheim. A place where lives intersect. And yet - right here, so close - lies someone who is not part of it. This photograph is a wake-up call. Not a loud one. A quiet, piercing one. It asks: ,,Who is really seeing whom - and who is truly seen?``
Chow-Chows
June 17,2025 Germany, Mannheim Paradeplatz
June 5, 2025 Germany, Mannheim Friedrichsring
It had rained during the night, and the ground was still damp. The sun was struggling to break through the clouds. Near the Friedrichsring, I passed by a small playground, when I noticed a man lying on a bench. He was wrapped in a blanket, his head half hidden under his jacket. Next to him were a large backpack, a few bags, a sleeping bag-everything he seemed to own. The bench he was lying on was covered in graffiti. It looked like a place where people normally wouldn’t linger long-but for him, it might have been the only shelter he had at that moment. His clothes were worn, his shoes nearly falling apart. And yet, he looked surprisingly calm. Peaceful, almost as if he had come to terms with the restlessness of the world around him. I don’t know his story. But as I stood there watching, I wondered who he used to be before life brought him here. Maybe he was a musician. Maybe a student. Maybe he had just lost too much-someone he loved, a job, or eventually just his grip on stability. I took this photo because I wanted to capture the moment. Not to evoke pity. But to make people look. Because I think people like him are often invisible. But it’s in moments like these-when someone lives at the edges of society-that a city tells its most honest stories. And in that exact moment, when I pressed the shutter, he was no longer invisible. He was right there—in the middle of Mannheim.
Penelope
June 10, 2025 Germany, Mannheim
Bruno
March 29, 2025 Germany, Mannheim Neckarstadt
In the streets of Neckarstadt in Mannheim, you come across many faces — but one of them stands out in a special way. Bruno, always on the move with his shopping cart, filled with the few belongings he owns. I see him regularly. Despite his difficult circumstances, he radiates a remarkable kindness. With his long beard, warm hat, and weathered face, he looks like someone who has seen a lot in life. He speaks very little German or English, but during a brief conversation, he told me that he is from Ukraine.
What strikes me every time is his dignity. He greets people with a smile, and sometimes with a gesture like in this photo — a salute that says more than words ever could. A quiet hero of everyday life, whose full story we may never know, yet who has become an unmistakable part of this neighborhood
June 06, 2024 Germany, Mannheim
June 11, 2025 Germany, Mannheim Abendakademie
In the middle of the city, where cars pass by and people move with purpose, a scene unfolds that could easily go unnoticed. A man stands at a public fountain. No spectacle, no grand gesture. Just a simple act, almost invisible in the rhythm of daily life-yet full of meaning. He leans forward, washes his hand, lets the cold water run over his skin. The motion is gentle-almost reverent. Then he takes a few small sips. You can see it’s more than just thirst. It’s a brief pause, a breath of dignity, carved out of the noise of the city. A heavy backpack rests on his shoulder. You can’t help but wonder: Where is he going? Where has he been? What is he carrying-not just on his back, but in his heart? The water trickling from his fingers tells a story no words could capture. It’s about more than hygiene, more than refreshment-it’s about a moment for oneself. About being human, in the quietest sense. This image holds up a mirror: how often do we walk by without noticing? And yet, right here-at an ordinary water fountain-lies something that connects us all: the need for dignity, for cleansing, for a sip of life. A brief moment. But it lingers.
May 1, 2025 Germany, Mannheim Jungbusch
I took this photo in the Jungbusch district of Mannheim — a neighborhood full of contrasts. Between creativity and culture, nightlife and everyday struggles, this moment captures the raw reality of many lives that often go unnoticed. The elderly woman in the image sits quietly, almost inconspicuously, yet her face tells countless stories. Marked by years, by experiences, and perhaps by hardship, she still radiates a quiet dignity. There’s something determined in her posture — as if she’s saying, „I’m still here.“ Her clothing is simple, practical, perhaps pieced together from donations, but she wears it with quiet confidence. Jungbusch is a place where many paths cross, often under challenging circumstances. This image captures exactly that: the quiet presence of a person who holds her ground in a loud, fast-moving world- with poise, with history, and with more strength than one might expect at first glance.
June 9, 2025 Germany, Mannheim Wasserturm
Right in front of the warm glow of a Starbucks, where conversations about projects, vacations, and to-go orders fill the air, lies a person in a different reality. No ruler. No appointments. Just concrete beneath the body, a hood pulled low over the face, the world shut out. Maybe for protection, maybe from sheer exhaustion.This body speaks louder than any manifesto
-
of systems full of holes, of glances that slide past,
of city centers that still exist on the margins
June 9, 2025 Germany, Mannheim Alter
June 9, 2025 Germany, Mannheim
June 6, 2025 Germany, Mannheim Alter