‘We have no tents or blankets’: Ceuta migrants struggle to survive brutal heat and freezing nights

Survival on the Edge: Migrants Face Harsh Conditions in Ceuta One Week After Historic Influx

Wanderstayfinder.com – Along the tree-lined avenues and bustling plazas of Ceuta’s center, the city appears to have returned to its usual rhythm. Yet just a short distance away at El Trampolín beach, the human toll of one of Europe’s most dramatic border crises remains starkly visible. Thousands of migrants continue to sleep beneath the open sky, lacking even the most basic shelter against the Mediterranean’s dual extremes of scorching daytime heat and bone-chilling nighttime cold.

Imad, a 26-year-old from Yemen, represents the thousands who have found themselves stranded in this Spanish enclave. “We’re sleeping here on the beach, out in the open, without tents or blankets,” he explained, describing conditions that have persisted since the extraordinary migration wave that began last week. The young man, who arrived after an eight-hour swim powered by flippers, recounted how the journey was only the beginning of his ordeal. “I barely manage two hours of sleep, as it’s incredibly cold by the sea at night, and during the day the heat is unbearable.”

A City on Edge

While local shops and markets have reopened and many of Ceuta’s 84,000 residents have resumed their daily routines, the psychological impact of the crisis lingers. Juan Jesús Vivas, Ceuta’s long-serving conservative leader, captured the mood of a community still processing the magnitude of what occurred. “Ceuta is on edge,” he told Spanish television. “Things have yet to return to normal – it’s as if 50 million people had entered Spain in a day.”

The exact scale of the migration remains debated. The Spanish government estimates approximately 72,000 people crossed into the territory, with around 2,500 still present. Vivas, however, believes the numbers are higher, with roughly 80,000 having entered and between 3,000 and 5,000 remaining. Compounding the uncertainty is the death toll, which estimates place as high as 141, with dozens more people still missing.

“People in Ceuta are nervous, they are worried. And this is absolutely logical, because the question we keep asking ourselves is: ‘Will this happen again?'”

Political Fallout and Border Vulnerability

The crisis has reignited debates about Spain’s relationship with Morocco and the reliability of its southern neighbor. Many migrants reported that their crossing was encouraged, and at times facilitated, by Moroccan officials. This revelation has prompted serious questions about border security and sovereignty.

“It has been demonstrated that our security and border are vulnerable and that both are in the hands of a third country that doesn’t recognise the sovereignty of Ceuta,” Vivas stated firmly. “Morocco is not a reliable country.”

Adding to local anxiety are fresh social media posts calling for another mass crossing in mid-August. The platforms that helped spark the initial migration—TikTok, Instagram, and WhatsApp—continue to circulate messages that could trigger further movement across the Strait of Gibraltar.

Struggling to Survive

For those who remain in Ceuta, the immediate aftermath brought desperate conditions. Imad described a time when everything was closed and basic needs went unmet. “Everything was closed, and we were on the verge of dying of hunger and thirst,” he recalled. “They used hunger to pressure us into deciding to return on our own. We ate leaves from the trees and drank dirty water.”

Conditions have gradually improved with assistance from organizations like the Red Cross, which began distributing food in recent days. On Thursday, the Spanish government announced plans to install toilets and additional showers on the beach, while police committed to opening an information point for migrants.

“I thought that, upon arrival – since I was arriving from a country at war – it would be easier for us to apply for asylum. But we found the reception centre for migrants closed. There were no exceptions for anyone; all the doors were locked.”

Human Cost and Uncertain Future

Imad’s journey began in 2019 when he fled attempts by the Houthis to recruit him as a fighter. He had envisioned that arriving from a war-torn country would simplify his asylum application. Instead, he found himself scrambling daily for food and shelter, with no clear path forward.

“I have nightmares every day. I dream that my family is being bombed, that they are killed, or that I’m deported to Morocco,” he said. “Psychologically, I’m shattered.”

Among those still in Ceuta are an estimated 1,300 unaccompanied children, according to NGO assessments. Humanitarian organizations have expressed particular concern about hundreds more children—some as young as 10—who may be wandering the city without protection or supervision.

As Spain and the European Union grapple with the broader political implications of this crisis, the migrants who remain in the city continue to face an uncertain future. The scenes of normality in Ceuta’s center stand in stark contrast to the ongoing struggle of thousands who crossed the border seeking safety, only to find themselves in limbo, waiting for answers about their place in Europe.