Young Moroccan migrants in Ceuta refuse to return home

After a wave of arrivals in late July, thousands of unaccompanied Moroccan minors remain in Ceuta’s industrial zone, facing cold, violence and an uncertain future.

In the early hours of 1 August, police lights flickered over the Tarajal industrial zone in Ceuta, a Spanish enclave on the North African coast, as hundreds of unaccompanied Moroccan minors huddled on the floor of a repurposed warehouse. The youths, many of them under 18, arrived after a mass crossing on 30‑31 July that saw more than 70,000 migrants reach the enclave’s border.

The situation has quickly become a humanitarian flashpoint. The Spanish government estimates that around 2,500 minors are still living on the streets, while local NGOs put the number closer to 4,000. Save the Children says only about 1,500 are currently under child‑protection care. The lack of basic services, no toilets, limited food, and exposure to the elements, has led to infections, scabies and, in August, two boys collapsing from heat and untreated illness.

Reda’s words echo a broader sentiment among the youths: Europe represents a chance at a future they feel is impossible in Morocco. Yet the enclave’s cramped warehouses, known locally as the “Naves del Tarajal”, are far from safe. Khaled recounted an attack by armed youths from the El Principe neighbourhood, during which several of his friends were wounded. Another friend was killed in the same incident, a trauma that Reda says will stay with him forever.

Inside the warehouses, mattresses are scarce and blankets are shared in shifts. Manal, a 16‑year‑old girl, described hiding in sewers while gun‑fire rang out, a memory that still haunts her. She now sleeps in a makeshift tent near the border crossing, after leaving a police‑run centre she says was violent.

Basic hygiene is a daily struggle. Mohammed, also 16, explained that the youths have to relieve themselves near the sea and wash with seawater because there are no toilets. Food arrives once a day from the Ceuta‑based NGO Luna Blanca, but the rations are insufficient to meet the group’s needs.

Spanish authorities have begun registering the minors. Angel Victor Torres, Spain’s minister for territorial policy, said around 1,400 have been entered into the protection system so far. However, Spanish law requires each case to be examined individually, preventing a collective repatriation. Basem Salem, an immigration lawyer, noted that identity verification, family circumstances and the best interests of the child must all be assessed before any return to Morocco can occur.

Moroccan officials, led by Abdellatif Wahbi, have pledged to cooperate, with consulates assisting in the identification process. Madrid has earmarked €25 million to help Ceuta manage the influx, and the Ministry of Youth and Children plans a conference in late August to allocate resources between central and local authorities.

Each morning, hundreds of youths line up outside the police station hoping to be placed in Spain’s child‑protection system, while others wait in the warehouses, on the beach or in the nearby hills for the next decision. Their future hangs in the balance between a dream of a better life and the stark reality of a limbo that could last months, or even years.