Asylum seekers, doomed to irregularity and job loss

BarcelonaGuillermo and Silvia's lawyer (not their real names) advised them to abandon the process for international protection they had begun in 2021, when they arrived from a Central American country they prefer not to reveal. Settled with their family in a town in Girona, they had both secured permanent contracts, contributing to Social Security "from day one" and hoping to put years of persecution and hardships of forced exile behind them. They say they already received an unfavorable ruling last fall and that with "the threat of May 20th," they decided to abandon their asylum applications, although this step means they are now in an irregular situation. The hardest part, they say, was having to inform company managers that they could no longer work legally.

The new Immigration Regulation, which Pedro Sánchez's government stated would allow for the regularization of some 300,000 people, will come into force on May 20th. It eases the requirements for social or educational roots, the main avenues for regularization for non-EU foreigners. However, the text has a perverse effect on applicants for official protection: in the event of a negative resolution, the entire time they have lived and worked in the State will not be counted, and they will have to remain in administrative irregularity for two years before being able to begin rooting, compared to the current six months.

Going underground

Officially, there is no data on how many people in this situation exist, but it is estimated to exceed 200,000. Spain is, in fact, the European Union country that grants the least asylum, approving only 18% of applications, while the EU average is close to 40%. Human rights organizations criticize the perversity of a system that leaves people who have been "contributing for months or even years" in the most extreme vulnerability and at risk of exclusion, according to the Catalan Commission for Action for Refugees (CCAR), which provides legal advice and support to this group.

Guillermo, 39, was a senior military officer who investigated a corruption network implicated by the country's president. Three of the four members of the special unit were murdered, while he claims that attempts were made on his life and that of his family, and he narrowly escaped. When he landed at Madrid airport, he says he felt "relieved" and confident that, with a little effort, he could get ahead with his three children, two of them minors. With a "comfortable" life, he never considered emigrating because "he had no financial need." Since they had acquaintances in Catalonia, they moved there and quickly realized that willpower and hope wouldn't be enough.

"Rents are impossible, and the five of us had to live in one room and the dining room of some acquaintances," explains the man, who also expresses his gratitude. the facilities you have had to registerThanks to the fact that asylum seekers are granted work permits after six months, father and daughter signed a permanent employment contract that has allowed them to get back on their feet and even buy a small vehicle needed to get to work. "Now, who's going to pay for the electricity, the water, the bills if no paycheck comes in?" the father asks. "It's absurd to see us now undocumented and without work when we've made every effort and are settled," he complains.

Until May 15, Assane Ndiaye will work at the Montjuïc sports club where he started last January. He has had to give up his contract and the salary that allowed him to survive and even send money to his family in Senegal. In mid-March, the rejection of his asylum application also left this 29-year-old Senegalese man undocumented for the next six months, when he will be able to begin the process of social residence. "All in all, it's lucky that the rejection came before May 20," he says, confidently.

Furthermore, at the end of March, he had to leave the apartment in Santa Coloma de Gramenet where he had the Cepaim entity had welcomed him as part of the Spanish government's international protection program. His other "lucky" side of this is that he can avoid being left out in the cold on the street or in one of the many settlements occupied by his fellow countrymen who work in scrap metal because a family has taken him into their home. A few months ago, Ndiaye met Barcelona native Jesús García at a mentoring program that the Generalitat has just cancelled due to reformulation, according to the Department of Social Rights and Inclusion.

From this relationship, which was initially intended to allow the young Senegalese man to practice the language and have support during the difficult process of obtaining international protection, an unexpected friendship emerged. "When he told me they wouldn't grant him asylum, I couldn't believe it, and when I told my wife, she said, 'Well, we'll have to adopt Assane,'" says García, who emphasizes the contradictions of the system. Thus, the young man has become part of this supportive family, who say they understand that fitting in can cause some conflict, but are determined that everything goes well and that the guest obtains a residence and work permit as soon as possible.

Ndiaye's story is marked by violence and tensions between fishermen from his village, Kayar, and those from neighboring Mboro. "There came a time when you couldn't work at sea and they attacked you. I saw friends of mine burned and killed," he explains, while showing photographs of children's faces completely burned by rival groups throwing gasoline at them. The impossibility of making a living from fishing in Senegal is, however, due above all to the for fishing agreements with the European Union, which allow large European vessels to take fish. This situation has caused fishermen to have to make a living or emigrate.

In Ndiaye, the same fisherman who taught him the trade helped him get on the canoe towards Europe. That day, he says, he met the his younger brother who also wanted to make the trip. Despite arriving together in the Canary Islands, Ndiaye was transferred to Reus, where she stayed in a hotel waiting to see if her asylum application would be accepted, while the youngest is under the guardianship of the Canary Islands government until he comes of age. They speak periodically, and the young man is confident that when he obtains the necessary permits and has a regular job again, he will be able to reunite with his family and start a new life. However, he knows that he has tough months ahead, because even a fine or a police identification can taint his record when it comes to regularizing his status.

For Silvia, now 21, being illegally registered also prevents her from resuming the studies she left behind in the country. She also cannot apply for a scholarship. "Without a NIE [identification document for non-EU citizens] you can't do anything," she reaffirms. The three asylum seekers agree that, far from what it may seem, the international protection procedures are complicated from the moment you want to make an appointment. The system is jammed, and the phones are constantly interrupted. However, in 2024, 167,366 applications were registered, a record number, the majority coming—in that order—from Venezuela, Colombia, Mali, Peru, and Senegal. This refutes the Spanish government's argument that the tightening of asylum was intended to dismantle a supposed "pull effect." On the contrary, the CCAR insists that it only serves to leave protection unprotected and "erode one of the pillars of human rights."