Migrant Women and Children Find Refuge in Ceuta Tent City

Hundreds of migrant women and children are taking refuge in a tent in Ceuta after crossing the border, fleeing violence and precarious conditions. They are surviving thanks to the solidarity of local residents while awaiting a better future.

## The Journey to a New Beginning

The scene is bleak but undeniably powerful. Hundreds of women and children, some barely out of childhood, are crammed into a makeshift tent in **Ceuta**. This is not a chosen destination but an escape. They are fleeing domestic violence, extreme poverty, and a future that seemed non-existent in their home countries. The journey, often by swimming, is an act of desperation and bravery, crossing the strait with the hope of finding something better on the other side. **Ferdaus**, four months pregnant, plunged into the water on **September 29, 2026**, fleeing an abusive husband. Her story, like those of so many others, is a testament to the search for safety and a dignified future for their children.

The camp, located next to the **Sidi Embarek** mosque, is a microcosm of precariousness. They share two portable toilets, food arrives through donations channeled by the NGO **Luna Blanca**, and the harsh weather becomes another enemy. Rain seeps through the sides of the tent, soaking the few belongings they brought with them or have received: blankets, mattresses, a toy that recalls a stolen childhood. **Saida**, a widow with four children, arrived after exhausting all options to feed her family. **Fathi**, who earned the equivalent of **200 euros** a month working as a scavenger in **Castillejos** and paid **150 euros** in rent, was forced to beg. Necessity pushed them to take the leap, to risk everything for an opportunity.

## The Fragility of Survival

Life in the tent is a constant struggle. Lack of hygiene and ground conditions cause infections, like the one **Ferdaus** suffers from. Access to medical care is limited, and although some manage to shower in nearby social centers, the daily routine is a challenge. Hope lies in being transferred to the **CETI** (Temporary Immigrant Stay Center), where other pregnant women have been taken after giving birth. Neighborhood solidarity has become the fundamental pillar of their survival. **Karima Mustafa**, affectionately known as "Hacha Karima," coordinates donations and camp logistics with tireless energy. Her son, **Abdellah Mustafa**, president of the neighborhood association, initiated the creation of the shelter after witnessing dangerous situations for women and children wandering the streets.

The situation is critical. The courts in **Ceuta** have peine **37 proceedings** for sensual assault since the massive arrival of migrants in the summer, affecting **39 victims**, **14 of them girls**. The **Trampolín** beach, where over **3,000 migrants** are crowded, was the scene of a serious incident where a **17-year-old** girl had to be resuscitated after an assault. These figures reflect the extreme vulnerability of these women, many fleeing deep trauma and abuse in their home countries, where the lack of institutional support and social conservatism stigmatizes them.

## Uncertain Future and Resilience

The central government is working on preparing an adjacent plot of land to improve infrastructure, including the installation of bathrooms, showers, and bunk beds. However, the fragility of the new tents, which did not withstand the rains, highlights the magnitude of the challenge. Life in the camp, despite the difficulties, is marked by resilience. The women share meals, support each other, and despite the inherent tensions of living in extreme conditions, they manage to maintain order, guided by the authority and affection of "Hacha Karima."

Many of these women are divorced, abandoned, or single mothers, facing social stigma that condemns them in their home communities. The need for psychological attention and, above all, affection and a hug, is palpable. **Ferdaus** dreams of working as a hairdresser in Spain and offering a better future to her son. **Rayan**, a **10-year-old** boy, waits for a ball to play with, a simple gesture that evokes the normality they so long for. Their stories, though marked by tragedy, are imbued with a fierce hope: to rebuild their lives far from violence and precariousness, and to find a safe place where their children can grow up without antiestéticar.