‘She never says goodbye when she leaves’: the Romanian families separated by migration
Maria’s day runs differently to those of most 11-year-olds. By the time other children in her home town of Târgoviște are still waking up, she’s making sure her grandmother takes her morning pills. After school, before she starts homework, she helps with cooking and cleaning, and gives her grandmother her treatment again. When her grandmother needs to see a doctor – sometimes across town, sometimes a two-hour bus ride to Bucharest – Maria* is the one who takes her. During the visits, she sits across from the doctor and listens carefully. Maria keeps note of the medication names, the dosages, the frequency, what each test is looking for and what the results mean. Sometimes it means she misses school but she doesn’t complain. “I don’t mind taking care of my grandma,” said Maria with adult-like composure. “It’s an activity like any other. I’m used to it.” Maria has been living with her grandparents since she was three months old. Her parents left Romania for work, first in Spain, then in Germany. Her parents split and her mother moved to London to work as a cleaner while her father remained in Târgoviște, although he is largely absent from her life. Maria is one of more than 53,000 Romanian children with at least one parent working abroad, according to the latest figures by Romanian social services. Of those, more than 10,000 have both parents or the sole breadwinner working abroad. The true scale, however, is difficult to gauge. Many parents, afraid that declaring their absence might trigger state intervention, leave without registering a legal guardian – an omission that means children can face barriers enrolling in school and accessing medical care without a legal guardian. A 2022 study estimates the real number to be more than 530,000, while 184,000 have both parents away. The Romanian authorities put the number for the same period at 76,000. Anca Stamin, programme manager at Save the Children, said that in addition to the figures collected quarterly by the social services system, schools also collect data, and these figures are two to three times higher. “There has been a wave of disinformation in disadvantaged communities that the state will take their children away,” said Stamin. “Combined with low trust in authorities and little guidance from the state, it pushes many parents not to formally transfer parental rights to the grandparents or relatives raising their children.” The exodus of parents began when Romania joined the European Union in 2007 and it now has the biggest diaspora in the EU, with more than 3 million people officially living in the bloc – although real numbers are likely to be higher – according to EU statistics. Romania remains one of the poorest countries in the EU. Despite years of economic growth, wages remain among the lowest in the bloc. Even after a decade of the fastest minimum wage growth in the EU, the minimum wage lags far behind western Europe. For many families in cities such as Târgoviște, the arithmetic is simple and brutal: a parent working as a cleaner or labourer in London or Frankfurt can earn in a week what they might take a month to earn at home. The parents who go rarely describe it as a choice but rather as the only way to give their children a better life. “If I could find a job in Romania that paid enough to live without fear of tomorrow, I would come back tomorrow,” said Diana Sabu, whose eight-year-old son, Edi, is being looked after by his grandmother while his mother works as a cleaner in France. Many of those children, like Maria, have quietly absorbed responsibilities that weren’t theirs to carry – caring for elderly relatives, managing households and steadying younger siblings. Research shows the emotional impact on children can be severe, with feelings of guilt, withdrawal, anxiety, or aggression being commonplace, while access to psychological support for these children remains scarce. At Christmas, Maria’s mother came home for a month and a half. When it was time to leave, she told Maria she would wake her to say goodbye. But when she finally opened her eyes in the morning, her mother was already gone. “She never says goodbye when she leaves,” said Maria. A recent survey found that more than three-quarters of parents abroad say their greatest struggle is maintaining an emotional bond with the children they left. Nearly half of parents working abroad did not return home for Easter this year, according to the same study, most citing costs as the reason. Children also grow up with feelings of guilt because parents often tell them it’s for their good that they have to leave for work. “Parents make various promises they don’t keep, and if they fail to do so, the emotional burden falls heavily on the child’s shoulders,” said Stamin. “Against this backdrop of emotional instability, they are more prone to behavioural problems and at risk of dropping out of school.” Save the Children runs after-school programmes in 50 Romanian schools, including two in Târgoviște, for children with parents working abroad. The programme offers activities, trips, homework support, and a warm meal, a partial substitute for what is missing at home. “These children mature so quickly,” said Dana Zoe, the Târgoviște programme manager. “But they’re also more sensitive than others. It’s a trauma and you can see it manifest.” Eight-year-old Edi is part of the programme. His mother, Sabu, left for Corsica in April because there was no work for her in Târgoviște. He now lives with his grandmother, Roxana, who does everything she can to care for him. His father has been working in Denmark for five years and visits every few months. “It’s clear he misses her a lot,” said Roxana. “They left to give the children a better future, but it’s different from how I grew up, with my parents next to me.” She pauses. “I don’t see her coming back for good any more.” Sabu works as a cleaner in a campsite with just one day off a week. She earns about €1,600 a month, with accommodation and meals covered, a much better deal than she could find anywhere near Târgoviște. The decision to leave came suddenly, after months of commuting to a job in a nearby town about an hour’s drive from Târgoviște, waking up at three in the morning and arriving back at six in the evening. It wasn’t sustainable, so she left. “The longing is what hurts most,” she said. “But I’m at peace knowing he’ll have what he needs. We’re learning to manage the distance.” But when the children are asked directly what they prefer, the answer is consistent, they say. “They say they’d rather be poor and have their parents here,” Zoe explained. Despite that, Edi’s mother keeps in touch with him daily. Every evening, she falls asleep on a video call. It is, she said, the only moment in the day that makes sense. She plans to return in October, and beyond that, to save enough to buy a home for them. Darius Gavriș is 17 now and he speaks of his childhood with a perspective that only distance and time can give. His parents left for Spain when he was three months old, then moved to Italy, where they have been living for eight years. He grew up in Târgoviște with his grandparents, surrounded by nine cousins in the same situation: all of their parents, his aunts and uncles, had also left. Until he was five he didn’t see much of his parents. Then, until the age of 11, he saw his parents every two years. During the Covid pandemic, four years went by without seeing them at all. He remembers watching other children at school being dropped off and collected by their parents. “I wanted that too,” he said. But he’s made his peace with his childhood. “It made me stronger, in a way, more ambitious, because I wanted to make my parents proud,” said Darius. He speaks carefully, without self-pity, but there is one memory he cannot quite neutralise. The first time his mother came home to visit he didn’t know who she was. He turned to his grandmother and asked: “Who is this lady?” Maria has never had that problem. Her grandmother is the most constant presence in her life and sees her as her mother. She doesn’t want to go to London and leave her behind, even though her brother moved there with their mother a few months ago. She wants to stay to take care of her grandmother’s wellbeing. Some nights, if her grandmother is unwell, Maria stays awake beside her. “I always fall asleep after my grandma, I need to make sure she’s OK and then I can sleep,” said Maria. * Some names have been changed







