09/10/2025
Hair Tutorial Police Visit: Similar to my Story.
When my husband and I moved into a new apartment—just before I delivered our second son—I never imagined how quickly things would change.
One day, at the shared laundry room, I met an elderly Swedish man. He was supposed to use the room right after me, but I stayed an extra five minutes. I quickly apologized and tried to leave, but he smiled kindly and said, “It’s okay, I understand.”
We started talking, and the conversation flowed so easily, it felt like we’d known each other forever. He asked when we moved in and which flat we lived in. I told him, happy to have met such a friendly neighbor. I even ran back to my husband and mum, excited, saying, “I’ve just found my Swedish father!”
But 24 hours later, we received a letter from the landlord, reminding us to respect laundry room schedules. 🤔 The next day, we installed our own washing machine.
Then came another surprise. One day, my first son was throwing a tantrum. He stamped his feet, and I scolded him, saying, “I don’t know what’s wrong with this boy!” Less than ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Three police officers stood outside.
My mum was sweeping the kitchen as they came in. They checked the trash, the cabinets, and every room. One officer said they’d received a report of a fight in our flat.
It happened again weeks later—this time around 11 p.m. Five police officers came knocking. We had just come back from shopping, and the kitchen was messy with groceries everywhere. They said someone reported another fight. I explained that no one was fighting—my son had woken up hungry. “At this time of night?” one officer asked. “Yes,” I said. “He ate before and woke up again.” They looked at each other, then left quietly.
That’s when I realized — it could only be that same man, my so-called Swedish father, reporting us each time.
Eventually, he even told the landlord that unusual noises were coming from our flat. The landlord asked my husband to come in for a meeting or they’d visit us.
It was then I learned something very important: when it comes to children in this part of the world, nothing is taken lightly. Every report to the police can reach social services. And once that happens, you can find yourself in court, spending money on lawyers, and enduring mental stress you never imagined.
Finally, my husband and I decided to leave the country for a while. He had a dream that social services took our son and demanded something he couldn’t remember before they’d release him. That was our sign to go.
So yes—sometimes, a “concerned neighbor” or even a “friendly face” can unintentionally cause more harm than good.
