Trampolín Beach in Ceuta has become an open-air refuge for around 400 migrants, most from sub-Saharan Africa, who remain stranded as they wait for a response to their asylum requests. The city's official migrant center is at capacity, forcing many to seek shelter on the sand, exposed to the relentless August heat and with limited access to basic necessities. The pressure soon overwhelmed Ceuta’s ordinary reception system: the Spanish Red Cross and government agencies assisted people in makeshift beach camps, while Madrid and local authorities agreed on 17 August 2026 to establish several formal camps.
Police have identified the area as one of the city's basic hotspots because of soaring temperatures and the growing number of people gathering there. Migrants use blankets from the Red Cross and makeshift shelters built from cardboard and fabric to shield themselves from the sun. Among them are families, including a group from the Comoros Islands, who recount their journey through Mayotte and Morocco before reaching Ceuta. Many lost their money and belongings during the crossing and now struggle to find food and water. They also lack basic hygiene products. On 16 August, hundreds of migrants at Trampolín protested to demand asylum, while the Red Cross distributed food.
NGOs have stepped in to provide food and water, but resources remain scarce. Migrants like Jon, a 23-year-old from Nigeria, rely on sporadic aid and hope the beach showers will reopen so they can refill bottles, even if the water is not potable. Communication with families back home is limited, and many are desperate for internet access to reassure relatives of their safety. The strain extended well beyond the beach: RTVE reported on 21 October that more than 3,300 migrant minors were being cared for in Ceuta, 288 of whom had been transferred to mainland Spain. The wider response included 7,477 places in temporary humanitarian-attention facilities.
Media attention has intensified, with international television crews broadcasting live from the beach. Migrants often wait silently behind reporters, sometimes breaking their silence to share their stories or express frustration. Personal tragedies add to the strain. Khaled from Yemen lost his brother during the dangerous swim to Ceuta and has been unable to confirm his fate with authorities or aid workers.
Despite the uncertainty, the word "asilo," meaning asylum, echoes across the beach. Many migrants learned through WhatsApp* (принадлежит Metа, которая признана экстремистской организацией и запрещена в РФ) groups that the border between Morocco and Spain was open, prompting them to attempt the crossing. While some regret the decision, most remain determined to seek asylum in Spain, aware that their legal status prevents immediate deportation. But a lack of clear information about procedures leaves them in limbo, confined to the beach and dependent on sporadic assistance. The processing challenge was still acute in October: police-union representative Raúl Piera told Reuters that around 100 cases a day were being registered on 14 October. Frontline workers and NGOs said the EU migration pact’s 12-week processing limit was unrealistic under the circumstances, citing staffing shortages and non-working computers. They expected procedures to take months.
Spain’s asylum figures describe different stages and groups within that caseload. Reuters reported on 19 October that authorities had received up to 1,200 applications and resolved about 700 by that week. The Interior Ministry said more than 1,000 migrants still in Ceuta were from sub-Saharan Africa, a group whose asylum applications are approved in more than 90% of cases nationally, information from government statistics. Figures reported by ElPlural on 22 October showed that 180 of 1,200 international-protection applications, or 15%, had been granted. About 100 grants concerned people who entered from Morocco during the relevant days. The totals included some applicants already in Ceuta before the mass crossing, and the ministry had prioritized people from war-affected territories and members of the LGTBIQ+ community.
Occasionally, small groups venture into the city in search of food, often facing restrictions in local shops. Shopkeepers require migrants to show cash before allowing them to enter, and purchases are limited to basic items such as bread and fruit. Local residents, by contrast, shop without such barriers, highlighting the divide between migrants and the rest of the community.
Elsewhere in Ceuta, the situation has shifted. El Tarajal beach near the border, previously crowded, is now calm, with a reduced military presence. Local youths search the water for remnants of the recent mass crossing, finding mostly discarded clothing, a stark reminder of the perilous journey that claimed at least 114 lives. Police operations later moved people from the beach settlements: 20minutos reported that 1,800 migrants were transferred from Trampolín to Loma Margarita on 20 August, with hundreds more moved from the Loma Colmenar area the following day as authorities dismantled as many as six settlements. For a broader perspective on the ongoing crisis and its impact on Ceuta, see this recent report on the city's response to the migrant influx.
By 24 October, authorities had dismantled large encampments at Trampolín and Benítez, as well as at El Guano, but the shelter and legal-status questions remained. Spain’s Interior Ministry said more than 11,000 people had returned to Morocco since 10 August, describing most returns as voluntary. On 19 October, Interior Minister Fernando Grande-Marlaska said 12,000 people had crossed back to Morocco since mid-August and stated: “There are no covert deportations under any circumstances.” A police union, meanwhile, estimated that 7,000-8,000 migrants remained dispersed across Ceuta or relied on accommodation from charities and civil-society groups. Those figures refer to different reporting dates and estimates. Together, they show how the response had shifted from beach encampments to transfers, alongside returns and dispersed accommodation.
Ceuta's unique position as a Spanish enclave on the African continent has long made it a focal point for migration. The crisis has exposed the strain on reception capacity and the difficulty of processing asylum claims while identifying people who may need protection. Wendell Soares, coordinator of the Catholic migrant reception centre San Antonio, told Reuters that the centre had taken in Fatna’s family and dozens of other vulnerable people despite normally having capacity for seven. “There are people who will truly be in enormous danger if they are returned to Morocco,” he said. The situation at Trampolín Beach shows the humanitarian consequences of prolonged uncertainty and the need for coordinated reception and asylum procedures.
