Madrid’s Puerta del Sol did not empty out after sunset: tents went up, and protesters stayed overnight, turning the city’s basic square into a camp again. The demonstration followed the eviction of 87-year-old Maricarmen Abascal, who was carried from her home on a stretcher. The order came from a vulture fund. Banners bearing her face made her a symbol, for many, of a housing crisis that has pushed thousands to the edge. Multiple independent reports said she had lived in her Retiro apartment for more than 71 years.
The Sindicato de Inquilinas called the demonstration. Government figures put the turnout at 25,000; the Delegación del Gobierno confirmed the number, and Spanish media echoed it. Protesters marched from Sol to the Congress of Deputies, shouting “Vergüenza” and “No más Maricarmen,” then circled back to Sol and set up camp. The crowd was mixed: young renters waved keys in the air, families brought children, and retirees worried about their future. Homeowners joined in, too. Víctor Díez, one of them, said, “life must come before business.”
Maricarmen’s story hit a nerve. It was not the first eviction, but it felt personal. Signs in the crowd read, “I am also Maricarmen: I was evicted in 2019” and “No more evictions.” Many saw their own struggles in hers. The anger was directed at investment funds and politicians alike. Chants of “El ático de Ayuso, para Maricarmen” targeted the regional president. Others called out Madrid’s mayor and the national government. “Where is the progressive government?” they demanded.
Personal stories filled the square. Ángel, 22, came from Tenerife and pays 500 euros for a single room. He said he felt lucky, until the next rent hike. Vanessa García, 42, faces losing her home in Pinto as her contract ends. She and her neighbors must pay 350,000 euros to buy their apartments from a new fund owner. Marta Ortega, a 26-year-old teacher, has already left her lifelong neighborhood after tourist rentals pushed her out. “My mother is surrounded by tourists now; the old neighbors are gone,” she said.
The protest was aimed at big landlords and investment funds. Banners named Urbagestión, the company behind Maricarmen’s eviction. Activists called for occupying empty homes and demanded that the constitutional right to housing be enforced. María Antonia Organero, 67, called Maricarmen’s eviction a collective failure and blamed Madrid’s city and regional leaders. RTVE reported that solidarity protests in support of Maricarmen and against evictions were held in Madrid and 12 other Spanish cities, reflecting the national scale of the housing crisis.
By late evening, about 1,000 people remained in Sol, refusing to leave. “This is for Maricarmen, but it’s for all of us,” said Blanca Martínez, one of the campers. “We are being suffocated by rent prices, vulture funds, and landlords.” The camp’s persistence marks a new phase for Spain’s housing movement. The memory of past protests lingers, but today’s pressures are sharper.
Housing has become a political flashpoint in Spain. The events in Sol show a crisis affecting thousands every day. Maricarmen’s forced removal, as an elderly and vulnerable woman carried out by force, has turned frustration into a demand for change. The camp is a direct challenge to those in power. The protest will continue to press for a real right to housing. Madrid’s message is clear: this is about more than one eviction; it is about the future of city life in Spain.
