“I sleep with my daughters among fireflies and dead rats”

BarcelonaIf the situation doesn't change, Nadira's family [a fictitious name, like the rest of the witnesses] will soon have spent a year in the Sant Màrius private shelter, referred by social services. Nadira will find the strength to leave him, to make him her ex. in tourist establishments, some three thousand vulnerable people Like them, 41% are single-parent families, with 92% of them being women as the adult representatives.

Nadira, sitting on a bench on a quiet street, talks about where she lives. No one can invite her in due to the diverse vulnerability of the families who live there. Although she would like to clearly show the conditions in which she lives, she fears being singled out for talking about what happens behind closed doors, and because she fears that this could cost her expulsion and the separation from her daughters.

But her phone bears witness to what is happening. She has accumulated a photographic catalog where you can see the variety of insects and rodents that Nadira and her daughters must live with in their room—centipedes, slugs climbing the walls, dead rats—as well as the dampness that has ruined their wardrobe and stained their clothes.

The mother comments on the poor hygiene and lack of space, having to sleep on mattresses wedged together like puzzle pieces. But above all, she highlights the cold they suffered during the winter and the heat they endured in early July, in a house with neither heating nor fans. However, the owner cut off her electricity and forced her to remove the appliances under the pretext that she had "overloaded the electrical system."

"They came into my room and cut off the electricity as punishment, so they could install a refrigerator and a portable air conditioner. The water, because they forbid us from storing anything in the kitchen refrigerator," says Nadira.

Evictions from apartments, skyrocketing housing prices, and the weight of the tourist market have caused the demand for emergency housing to grow exponentially in recent years. Temporary Emergency (ATU) and the budget allocations increase year after year By 2025, the council has allocated 38 million euros to provide 3,000 places in private accommodation. intended for social services, which amounts to an average of more than 1,000 euros per month. The math means that the Sant Màrius shelter will receive approximately 30,000 euros per month.

Valentina is just one of many women who come and go from the Sant Màrius shelter. She has spent just over four months in another "unsanitary" room, along with her 10-year-old daughter and 9-month-old baby. In her case, it wasn't the lack of hygiene that led her to speak out, but the precarious food situation the family suffers, especially her baby, a girl who lacks adequate nutrition: her diet is based on sugary juices and solid foods full of preservatives.

"I just want to be able to have a blender in the room to make baby food for my daughter," Valentina explains, but is told that this would be considered cooking and would go against the house rules. The only solution offered is "to give the baby water."

The complaint about food also affects her older daughter. Now that it's summer, she goes to a summer camp every morning, but she can't bring food: the shelter doesn't prepare anything for her, nor does it allow her mother access to the kitchen. Valentina also criticizes the quality of the meals they receive daily. "What they give us isn't worth a euro," she says, pointing out the meager, protein-poor rations and the inability to get seconds. She also complains that leftover food is thrown away.

According to the City Council, 15% of the incidents received in 2024 related to food, while 19% were related to pests and more than half, 52%, related to the facilities. The council announced at the beginning of the year that it would double the inspections of boarding houses and shelters that accumulate people referred by social services. During the first half of the year, nearly 100 scheduled inspections were carried out at ATU establishments.

Noor arrives with her two daughters. They both wear the same colorful outfit, like twins, but they're not the same age or have the same needs. The youngest has autism and epilepsy, but Noor points out that she receives the same "inhumane" treatment as her sister at the shelter. The mother complains that her daughter's specific dietary needs are not respected, which often results in her going without food. And when the food is suitable, Noor deprives herself of her own ration to give it to the girl, despite being several months pregnant.

She doesn't know how much longer they'll last. She's been in the same shelter for eight months, and it doesn't seem like anything will have to change in the short term. Noor and Nadira represent 65% of the people who, according to City Hall sources, have been in an ATU for more than six months, while a third have been there for between one and two years, and the remaining 15% are between two and three years. Legally, the six-month limit cannot be exceeded, but neither legality nor coherence seem to have a place in Sant Màrius.

Nadira, Valentina, and Noor lower their voices when a man who can barely be in his twenties approaches the door of the shelter. "He lives here [in the shelter], with the cooks," Valentina says as the metal door leading into the shelter closes.

The City Council contradicts the complaints

Municipal sources have assured this newspaper that an inspection was recently carried out at the request of one of the shelter's residents, without specifying the exact date. According to these sources, no rodents or insects were detected during the inspection, although preventive disinfection and rat extermination were also carried out. They also add that "the facility—the Sant Màrius shelter—meets the required quality standards."