Years of Uncertainty for Unaccompanied Youth

Every year, hundreds of teenagers and young adults arrive alone in Catalonia from countries across the Global South, fleeing poverty, violence or persecution. Between 2017 and 2020, more than 8,000 unaccompanied minors reached the region, only to confront a complex web of administrative hurdles that delay access to basic rights for years.

Their struggle is documented in the transmedia project L'Última Frontera by Social.cat, which follows five individuals navigating fragmented support systems, irregular legal statuses and widespread discrimination. Despite these challenges, many pursue education, work and community roles with resilience and determination.


Housing Barriers and Street Homelessness

Access to stable housing remains one of the most critical obstacles. According to data from Barcelona’s Municipal Service for Detection and Intervention (SDI), 30.9% of the young migrants it supports live on the streets. This figure is supported by a 2024 study published in the Revista d’Antropologia Médica i Salut Global, which found that 96.6% of 2,560 homeless youth assisted by SDI between 2019 and 2023 were migrants.

“Truques per un pis i et pregunten per l’origin. L’endemà et diuen que ja està llogat”, denuncia el Nasser

Nasser Boudrikech, a Moroccan national who arrived in Barcelona in 2021, lived in an abandoned van for six months before accessing a shelter. Even after securing employment and formal training, he faced repeated rejections when seeking rental housing, often after disclosing his name or nationality.

Lucía Mendoza Palomar of Migrastudium’s Hospitality Network confirmed that racism in housing persists: even with stable jobs and documentation, many young migrants are turned away once landlords see their faces or hear their names. David Vázquez of Cáritas Diocesana de Barcelona added that he has not seen a single young migrant successfully rent a private flat in the past two years without strong local networks.


Legal limbo also impedes access to healthcare. While Spain guarantees universal health coverage, administrative complexity often delays registration. The same SDI cohort data shows that 56% of young migrants lacked an individual health card (TSI) at initial contact.

Chaimae Benlemchkraf, a Moroccan woman living in Tarragona, was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis within her first years in Catalonia. With a recognised disability assessed at 68% under Spanish law, she struggled to access timely care due to language barriers and bureaucratic delays. She spent two years in a remote educational centre ill-suited to her chronic condition.

Paula Rossi of Regularización Ya warned that many avoid medical services altogether due to fear or misinformation. Some clinics still demand illegal payments for emergency care, while others fail to provide interpreters, deepening mistrust.

According to quantitative data from the Barcelona Public Health Agency (ASPB), among 233 SDI-supported youth who applied for a TSI between 2019 and 2023, only 150 had usable health records. These 150 individuals made 2,004 total visits to health services, an average of 14 per person, with a quarter making more than 23 visits, suggesting delayed care leads to concentrated use.


Education and Work Rights Held Hostage by Status

For Abdou Diallo, a 20-year-old from Guinea, arriving in Barcelona meant pursuing education and joining the labour market. But despite completing multiple training courses, he cannot legally work. He holds a residency permit based on training, but not a work permit, a gap that keeps him economically dependent.

His case stems from a disputed age assessment upon arrival. Though his passport listed him as 16, prosecutors used the controversial wristbone test, criticised for inaccuracy, to classify him as an adult. As a result, he missed out on child protection benefits and faster legal pathways.

“Estàs menjant i estudiant, però si no tens feina ni papers, no estaràs feliç”, diu l’Abdou

Anna Coca, a social educator at Fundació Bayt al-Thaqafa where Abdou lives, stressed that the system fails to offer real integration: “The question isn’t whether they want to study, it’s whether our system gives them the minimum conditions to do so.”

Fighting for Dignity and Recognition

Lissa Fuentes, a transgender woman from Cuba, waited four years for a response to her asylum application, only to be denied. Though she eventually secured residency through arraigo (social integration), the rejection was a crushing blow. Today, she works with ACATHI, supporting other LGBTQ+ migrants facing similar struggles.

Rodrigo Araneda, president of ACATHI, noted that LGBTQ+ applicants often lack specialised interviewers who understand their realities, leaving decisions to chance rather than structural support.

Abdoulie L. Marreh, now studying secondary education in Osona, said the process remains painfully slow: he expected to regularise his status within months of arrival in 2023, but three years later still lacks full documentation. “We live with high stress because the administrative process is very difficult and slow,” he said.

Gerald Llach, a social worker in Osona, described the system as arbitrary: procedures that succeed for one young migrant may be denied for another under identical circumstances. “Each time guidelines change, new difficulties are added,” he explained.


Reported by social.cat, open.spotify.com, ivoox.com, Anna De Andrés Aguayo, Racó Català.