The message didn’t come from the app, but from the landlord.
“Quick info: The rent will be adjusted starting next month.”
Leni stared at the display as if she could prevent words from becoming reality just by looking.
“Adjusted means the new word for ‘more expensive’,” said Jamal, who was sitting on Leni’s sofa trying not to avoid the worn-out spot.
Cookie had curled up exactly where an armrest used to be. He looked content. The housing market obviously hadn’t broken him yet.
“I took the apartment five years ago because it was affordable,” said Leni. “Now it’s just… historically cheap.”
Jamal nodded. “I once read: Whoever has an affordable apartment today doesn’t live cheaply – but in the past.”
The apartment was small. Two rooms, thin walls, windows that pretended in winter as if they had never heard of insulation. But it was Leni’s. At least emotionally.
On the kitchen table lay a flyer someone had distributed downstairs in the hallway.
“URBAN LIVING – Rethinking Housing!”
Leni read aloud: “Micro-apartments from 32 square meters. Shared kitchen optional. Sense of community guaranteed.”
“Guaranteed,” repeated Jamal. “Like Wi-Fi on a train.”
Cookie lifted his head and yawned. Shared kitchen sounded like many strangers, little floor food to him.
In the afternoon they went to the apartment viewing. Not because Leni wanted to move – but because today you have to to know how bad it is.
People were already standing in front of the building. Many. Very many. Some had folders. Others only hope.
“This feels like a casting,” whispered Leni.
“Yes,” said Jamal. “For the role: ‘Person allowed to afford housing.’”
The realtor was young, polished, professionally friendly. “Please have all documents ready,” she said. “Credit report, proof of income, motivation letter.”
“Motivation letter?” asked Leni.
“Yes,” said the realtor. “Why you really want this apartment.”
Leni thought briefly. “Because I don’t want to be homeless?”
The realtor laughed as if it were a joke. “Very sympathetic.”
Inside the apartment was bright. Beautiful. Outrageously beautiful. The price was on a small sign, almost shy.
Leni calculated in her head. Then again. Then gave up.
“That is…,” she began.
“Market standard,” interrupted the realtor. “Location, demand, you know.”
“No,” said Jamal calmly. “We don’t know. Please explain it to us again, as if we were human beings.”
The realtor smiled tensely. “It’s supply and demand.”
“So,” said Leni, “many people need something to live, and few own it. Sounds fair.”
The realtor cleared her throat. “Please stay factual.”
Cookie sat down in the middle of the room and looked around. Then he barked once. Loudly. Clearly.
“He says,” murmured Jamal, “that the apartment is too small for bullshit.”
After the viewing they stood outside again. No one spoke. Everyone stared at their phones as if numbers could suddenly become friendlier there.
“I’m scared,” Leni finally said.
Jamal looked at her. “Of what?”
“That I do everything right and it still won’t be enough.”
She said it quietly. But it hung heavily between them.
They went home. Home – a word that suddenly sounded provisional.
Leni sat on the floor, leaned her back against the couch. “You know what annoys me the most?”
Jamal shook his head.
“That housing is now a lifestyle. No longer a right. You’re supposed to be grateful if you can afford it.”
“And quiet,” added Jamal. “Very quiet.”
Cookie laid his head on Leni’s knee. Warm. Real. Unterminable.
The phone vibrated. A new push notification.
“Exclusive apartment listing – only for top performers!”
Leni laughed. Bitterly. “Top performers. I deliver food, ruin my back, and live at the edge of my possibilities.”
“Performance is relative,” said Jamal. “Morality unfortunately is not.”
Leni looked around. The scratches on the wall. The wobbly table. The window that didn’t close properly.
“I love this apartment,” she said. “But love doesn’t protect against evictions.”
They were silent for a while. Then Leni said: “If I ever have to leave…”
“Then we won’t go quietly,” said Jamal.
Cookie barked in agreement.
And while outside real estate ads spoke of urban lifestyle, inside they understood something very simple:
A home is not a trend. It is the foundation of everything.
And whoever takes this foundation away from people, should not be surprised when they start asking questions.