Spain's slow response to the crisis in Ceuta leaves teen migrants on the streets

CEUTA, Spain (AP) — Hundreds of teenage migrants lined up outside a church in Ceuta in early October, hoping Spain's visiting minister of youth would bring them some good news: passage to continental Europe or at least a spot in a shelter.

For two months, they had slept on cardboard sheets and ripped sofas in squalid tent camps, or on the streets of the Spanish city in North Africa that juts into the Mediterranean like a thumb. On clear days, southern Spain is visible on the horizon.

Among them was a 17-year-old aspiring model from northern Morocco. In late July, he crossed into Ceuta with around 80,000 others in what would become Spain’s deadliest border crisis .

“Pray for me!” he told an Associated Press reporter. But instead, the teens were led down a steep hill to a soccer field so as not to overwhelm the minister. Within hours, many were back on the streets and hillsides.

Another setback for the young migrants, the scene also illustrated the Spanish government’s slow, often improvised response to the migration crisis in the territory. Thousands of minors reached Ceuta alone and, under Spanish law, are entitled to shelter, healthcare and education. Experts acknowledge the difficulties authorities face, but say the government may simply be hoping that many of them give up and head home.

“I was expecting a really easy experience,” said the 17-year-old, who did not want his name used because he is alone in Ceuta and fears for his safety. “I was expecting two to three weeks of this.”

Open-air, makeshift camps with adults and children have festered on beaches , at warehouses and on hillsides since tens of thousands of people swam or climbed around a breakwater that separates Morocco from Ceuta in July. About 140 people died trying to cross. Most of those who made it left within days, but officials do not have an exact count of how many people stayed.

A few thousand people lived in one beachside camp where the air reeked of human waste. Children as young as 13 slept and showered among adult men who frequently broke into fights.

Elsewhere, minors hid in the steep, narrow streets of some of the city’s predominantly Muslim neighborhoods.

“Our streets are littered with kids,” said Ahmed Enfed-Dal, the president of a neighborhood association.

Spanish prosecutors are investigating reports of torture and mistreatment of migrants, including minors. In September, Amnesty International published a report detailing allegations of cruel, inhumane or degrading treatment by Spanish soldiers. The report also mentioned the unsafe conditions of underage migrants and allegations of sexual abuse of girls.

In early October, the 17-year-old said he was sleeping in a car with other teens from Morocco. When he first arrived, he slept in a garage with two other minors. A resident charged them each 15 euros ($17) per night. Unable to keep paying, he went back to the streets.

“People tried to rob me twice and hit me,” he said. As weeks became months, he has started questioning why he stayed, but feels he cannot return to Morocco.

Like many Moroccan teens, he told the AP his high school diploma afforded limited opportunities back home. In Tetouan, just 40 kilometers (25 miles) south of Ceuta, he worked with his father as a butcher. He said his family has encouraged him to stay.

“Morocco is a good tourist place,” he said. “But it’s not a good place to be a citizen.”

Minors who reach Spanish soil alone are the responsibility of regional governments or, in Ceuta's case, the city. Under Spanish law, a child can be sent back to his or her home country only under specific circumstances.

Spain's national government has told Ceuta to process those below 18 on a case-by-case basis, approving more than 90 million euros ($101 million) in funding, but the city insists it does not have the resources. Spain's Youth Minister Sira Rego has said most minors in Ceuta wish to stay in Spain, and “they will do so,” she told Spanish radio station Cadena Ser.

But Ceuta's Mayor Juan Vivas has urged national authorities to find a way to send the minors from Morocco back home.

“It’s easy to judge from over there,” Vivas said in September. “But you’ve got to be here.”

The two sides also have disagreed over something even more fundamental: How many migrants are still in Ceuta.

After the initial border rush, Spain’s interior minister said all but 2,000 people had gone back to Morocco. Spain revised the figure to up to 10,000 migrants in September. But Ceuta’s mayor says up to 15,000 people remain, acknowledging “the figure changes from one day to the next.”

Estimates of the number of unaccompanied minors have also fluctuated. Authorities say thousands remain in the city, though it's unclear how many are unsheltered.

Rights groups have criticized Spain for still not knowing how many minors there are.

“We understand that the protection system is currently overwhelmed, but that does not change the fact that there should be an official registry of all individuals in the city who declare themselves to be minors,” said Jennifer Zuppiroli, a migration expert at Save the Children in Spain.

As more minors have entered shelters, those still waiting are growing weary.

For weeks, the aspiring model visited the beachside tent camp to collect food from the Red Cross. He and dozens of migrant boys staged small demonstrations, appealing to authorities for help.

“We just want one thing — that Spain protects minors. Long live Spain!” read a tattered sign that boys as young as 13 held up as traffic whizzed past.

In early October, Spanish police started bulldozing the camp and mountains of detritus. Groups of migrants were bused elsewhere. Rights groups and others said some minors were taken to the border.

Over WhatsApp, the 17-year-old said he knew some teenagers whom police had taken from the beach. Some ended up in shelters. He was disappointed it happened on the one day he didn’t visit the camp.

Fearful that the police will send him back to Morocco, he has stayed hidden.

“I’m feeling tired for the first time since I came,” he said. “It’s been two months and we’re still living in the streets.”