Racibórz, Poland - February 28, 2025, marks the end of an era for Rafako, a company with 75 years of history as one of Poland's most significant players in the energy sector. On this poignant last day of operation, around 700 employees gathered at the factory complex to bid farewell. Rafako, known for producing boiler systems and other energy equipment, has succumbed to financial struggles after years of declining production, culminating in its bankruptcy declaration.
"Our emotions are raw today as we prepare to part ways with not just our jobs but also this remarkable institution," said Marek Langer, the head of the Independent Trade Union at Rafako. Many employees expressed disbelief and disappointment, reflecting on their lengthy careers. For some, like Mr. Wiesław, who has invested nearly five decades at Rafako, this day marks not just the end of their employment but the dismantling of their second family. "After 47 years, it feels surreal to say goodbye. We gave our best, yet here we are with nothing to hold onto," he said, his voice tinged with sorrow.
The sense of loss was palpable as the alarm siren blared one last time at noon, marking the moment employees began to gather. They stood beneath the towering pressure stabilizer, intended for use at the nuclear power plant in Żarnowiec, which epitomizes the high-quality work Rafako was once known for.
With tears and applause, the employees initiated what they dubbed "a silent demonstration" to honor their years spent at Rafako. A minute of clapping echoed around the facility, signaling their solidarity through shared experiences, triumphs, and challenges over the years.
Many of those present had been hopeful until the last moment for potential salvation of the company. Despite prior statements from Prime Minister Donald Tusk about valuing home-grown industries, the government's failure to act when Rafako needed support led to frustration among the workers. Langer noted the promises unfulfilled, stating, "We were told support would come, yet at the crunch time, it was nowhere to be found. They chose to avoid dealing with our calls for help, and now we witness the failure of what was once the pride of Poland’s energy sector. I can still recall Tusk recognizing us as the backbone of Polish energy, yet here we stand, unemployed and cast aside."
The last 12 months have seen continuous challenges for Rafako, culminating when the management submitted a bankruptcy application back on September 26, 2024. Despite reaching out to government bodies and potential investors, no resolution emerged. "We communicated for years with politicians and entities to alert them to the volatility of our situation, but those cries fell on deaf ears," Langer lamented.
The legacy of Rafako extends beyond just its output; it was intertwined with the fate of Poland’s energy independence. At its peak, Rafako supplied components for approximately 80% of Polish power blocks, contributing significantly to industrial electricity production. The facilities, with their advanced technological capabilities, are now null, leaving behind vast halls filled with equipment and machinery, waiting to collect dust.
Employees have expressed concern over the fate of these invaluable resources, some fearing they will vanish without trace under the hands of new investors. "Rafako means innovation and capability. It’s not just machines, it’s the years of craftsmanship and engineering knowledge we built together," one longtime staff member said. "What remains to be seen now is whether anyone sees the value here."
This is not just the story of a factory closing its doors but of lives affected by corporate management mistakes and broken promises from authorities. Employees voiced skepticism about the future possibilities for the establishment now, speculating grimly about what could follow with new ownership. "If things don’t change fast, this will become simply ruins," warned another disgruntled worker.
Despite the sobering circumstances, hope still flickers among the departed workforce. Many have documented their commitment to return should opportunity arise, with about 450 workers signing pledges to reintegrate if the company finds revival. The overwhelming attachment to their roots and community is palpable as Langer stands before them, advocating for Rafako's revival. "We want this emblem of Polish industrial capability back to its feet—even if it takes on different shapes or forms—this mark must not be lost to time," he insists.
Rafako's downfall is reflective not just of poor management but also of inadequate government support for industries considered pivotal to national interests. Employees still harbor belief for longevity, wanting to instill urgency among public sectors to reconsider their stance on manufacturing and support for local champions like Rafako.
"Are we destined to watch every local enterprise fade just to make room for foreign names?!" Langer questioned poignantly before the gathering. Several banners bearing messages from the workers called for rectification and attention from those holding power. His passionate oratory encapsulated the emotions felt by the group—one of resilience, sadness, and determination to not let their legacy disappear silently.
Rafako stands as both symbol and casualty of Poland's rushing transition away from dependency on coal, clashing business decisions and promises unfulfilled from various levels of government. The framework left by past industrial efforts, now serves as lessons for future endeavors, but the sentiment remains heavy as employees embrace the unknown.
Despite the closure, the collective memory of Rafako as part of Poland’s industrial heritage will linger, reminding everyone involved of what was built and what could potentially still be salvaged. With the right support, who knows? Perhaps Rafako can rise again—be it as Rafako 2.0 or under another guise—but one thing is certain: the spirit of determination rests firmly with its employees who cherish every moment they spent there.