In Ceuta, more than 350 women and children who recently crossed from Morocco are living in an improvised camp on an outdoor futsal pitch in the La Reina neighborhood. Fenced in and guarded at night, the site offers temporary shelter as authorities struggle to respond to the influx. Many minors arrived alone, separated from family, and now face an uncertain future as political debate over their presence intensifies.
Inside the camp, children spend their days waiting. They sleep on the ground or, if they are fortunate, on thin mats. Daily life centers on basic needs: washing with buckets outdoors, sharing limited facilities and coping with the heat. Even in these conditions, the children talk about ambitions beyond their immediate hardships. Some dream of becoming footballers or nurses; others hope to join the police and build a life in Spain.
Ismaíl, 12, arrived with his older brother but has since lost contact with him. He is navigating life in a foreign country without knowing the language, yet remains optimistic about his future. Maryam, 15, left Tetuán with relatives, hoping to support her family and finish her education. In Arabic, she writes that she wants her status regularized so she can contribute to society. For many, the journey brought fear and uncertainty, but the hope for a better future remains strong.
Samia, a 20-year-old former teacher from Morocco, now translates for younger arrivals. She tells Maryam that some parties have resisted accepting migrant minors in other regions. Maryam is surprised and asks why they are denied documents. Most camp residents know little about the wider political dispute; their attention is on getting through each day and finding stability.
Conditions remain difficult. After repeated requests from local leaders, the city recently installed a second portable toilet. The camp is full, and many families still sleep outside. Save the Children says more than a thousand minors are currently sleeping on the streets of Ceuta, outside the official protection system. The situation has sparked urgent discussions at the national level, with the Ministry of Youth and Children calling a meeting to address the crisis.
Figures reported by the Government of Ceuta show the scale of the emergency: on 23 October, about 3,390 minors were in the city’s care, while its ordinary child-protection system was designed for no more than 29. Since 1 August, the city had opened up to 12 emergency facilities, bringing the number of active spaces to 22. Spain’s central government said the Sectoral Conference on Childhood had approved €25 million on 27 August to support care for unaccompanied migrant children and adolescents in Ceuta.
By 21 October, Spain’s Minister of Inclusion, Social Security and Migration and government spokesperson Elma Saiz said that 3,331 minors who arrived during the late-July influx had entered Ceuta’s protection system. Of those transferred to mainland Spain, 107 went to relatives elsewhere in the country through family reunification, while 181 were moved to other autonomous communities under Article 35 of Spain’s Immigration Law. Ceuta had also carried out a seventh operation to clear improvised camps where minors were still waiting for official accommodation.
The central government presented transfers as a way to ease pressure on Ceuta, but regional officials disputed how responsibility should be shared. Conchita Ruiz, the regional councillor for Social Policy, Families and Equality, opposed distributing unaccompanied foreign minors among the autonomous communities to resolve the crisis. She urged the central government to take responsibility for migration management and strengthen border protection. The government has drawn a distinction between the legal responsibilities: adults returning to Morocco fall under the General State Administration, while Ceuta retains ordinary responsibility for unaccompanied minors. In an announcement on 20 October, it said none of the children had been reunited with family in Morocco.
Protection needs extend beyond accommodation and transfers. On 21 October, Minister of Youth and Children Sira Rego discussed the situation with the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). The ministry said some minors may have profiles relevant to asylum or international protection, including cases linked to their country of origin and several involving LGTBIQA+ identity. UNHCR had trained more than 70 lawyers in Ceuta on immigration and children’s rights, including preparation for screening under the European Pact on Migration and Asylum. Rego called transfers to mainland Spain the most effective way to protect children while easing pressure on the city.
Among those waiting is Mohamed, an eight-year-old who, with his mother, had slept outdoors before finding space in the camp. He says he is afraid of soldiers and wants to become a police officer to help his mother. Like other children, he writes down his hopes, wishing for a chance to prove himself if he receives legal status. His days follow a simple routine: meals and play, with waiting for news in between.
The humanitarian challenge in Ceuta is not new. As recent efforts to reunite migrant minors with their families show, the city remains under pressure as arrivals outpace available resources. Local volunteers and neighborhood leaders have helped provide shelter, but demand far exceeds capacity. Debate over the minors’ future continues to expose the difficulty of migration policy in Spain.
Ceuta’s experience reflects wider migration trends across southern Europe. Its proximity to Morocco makes it a frequent entry point for people seeking a new life in the EU. The crisis has also reverberated beyond the enclave: Spain and Italy agreed on 22 October to lift border controls on each other’s citizens after a three-month dispute triggered by the migrant rush. Spanish authorities, NGOs and local communities must balance humanitarian needs with political realities. The camp’s stories put a human face on a crisis often discussed in abstract terms, bringing the individual hopes and challenges behind the headlines into view for policymakers and the public.
