From Ghana to Mallorca to end up on the street at 18: "I just want a normal life"

PalmMusa's room always smells good. The air freshener sticks she has placed on a shelf anchor her to the new space. The smell calms her. It tastes like home. Where a month ago there was an office with a computer and a video game console, today there is a new mattress and bed. They are hers. She will no longer have to wander with her clothes in a sports bag, not knowing where she will sleep the following week.

Just like it happened with other friends of mineJust like it happened with other friends of mine”, she recounts.

It was the month of January. He was paid for four nights in a shelter. He was left out of the emancipation circuit due to a gap that no one corrected in time. “My situation was very difficult. I went through the system and found myself practically alone. Without stability, without a future, and without even knowing where I had to sleep. Without documentation, work, or support, everything is very complicated,” he continues.

Help Network

With the sports bag on his shoulder, he contacted Roser, the social mediator he had met at the juvenile center. Musa puts his hand to his heart and closes his eyes when talking about her. “She is like an aunt to me,” he confesses. Roser told the story in a WhatsApp group she shares with people sensitive to social causes. They established a schedule to host him for two weeks in each home. The more people he met, the larger his network of contacts for receiving help would be, Roser suggested. The informal organization filled the institutional void: “The hardest part was the uncertainty. Living without knowing what will happen tomorrow. It's hard to feel that, even if you want to do things right, you don't have the same opportunities. Many of us want to work, study, and grow, but we encounter many barriers.”

“We feel sad, frustrated, and sometimes forgotten. Abandoned by institutions, some of us have been lucky enough to receive solidarity from people. We have talent, a desire to work, and dreams; we need real opportunities to start and build a life. It is not fair that, after all we have been through, we continue to struggle for the most basic needs. I just want a normal life, to be able to help my family, and to feel like I belong here,” she continues.

From Ghana to Cabrera

Musa's hometown is in “a transit territory, a dangerous borderland to live in and where innocent people are killed; where everything is political and revolves around money”. His family –father and three siblings– managed to move to a safer area. By the time Musa finished high school, he had already worked as a plumber, repairing mobile phones, and collecting scrap metal. He saved every last coin to gather the 1,200 euros that could take him to Europe. “My family is poor. I had no chance to study. I only told my plan to my mother. She asked me not to leave. She was scared, but she ended up accepting it and trusted that I would succeed. I didn't want my siblings to grow up seeing that there was no future. I wanted to be an example for them,” he recalls.

Two months of journey

To cover the 3,800 kilometers separating Ghana from Mallorca, it took him almost two months of crossing from Africa to the European dream. “The journey was horrible, very difficult. They gave us masks against the desert dust. We were 30 people in a van”. Crowded, unable to move – Musa is 1.90 meters tall – when he stood up, his legs failed him. “Eight people were left behind. They were scared”. Others – in a story similar to the film Io, capitano, by Mateo Garrone – were blackmailed, imprisoned, tortured, or robbed of their money to embark in Algeria. Musa didn't have it on him and his family transferred it to him when he could already see the Mediterranean. “I was four days at sea. Without eating. We had two water bottles for 28 people. I stayed scooping water from the boat while the rest had to jump into the sea so we wouldn't capsize. Then we pulled them up one by one,” he recalls with pauses.

The dinghy arrived at Cabrera. “We hoped to find someone, but there was no one. We were exhausted. I felt it was the end, that I would die there. I risked my life knowing it could be my end, but I didn't regret it for a moment, because, even if I died, I was doing it for my family”.

The Civil Guard took their fingerprints. They gave him “a small juice, a muffin, and some cookies” which seemed to him “the best food in the world”.

His first call was to his mother. He was so happy he couldn't speak. In the minors' center, he shared a room with four other young people. He received literacy classes. “No socio-labor guidance. The workers were overworked. I felt very sad when they kicked me out. I was very scared because I didn't know how I would survive on the street,” he confesses. Before the interview with ARA Balears, he had prepared questions for the politicians: “Why is it so difficult for us to access legal documents and job opportunities? How will we build a future without a place to live? Do you really understand what we live through daily? What plans do you have to help those who, like me, are expelled without options?”.

The Government explains that the law limits guardianship to minority age. Upon reaching 18 years of age, leaving the protection system is automatic. From here, the possibility of accessing the emancipation program opens up, a transition to adult life that includes supervised accommodation, socio-educational support, and financial aid, always within an individual itinerary that technicians evaluate on a case-by-case basis.

In practice, the system does not always arrive on time. The Administration admits that pressure on resources has increased in recent years, especially in the residential sector, where demand far exceeds availability. According to data from the Ministry of Families, Social Welfare and Dependency Care, in the Balearic Islands, 378 people currently receive some type of aid from the emancipation network, through third-sector entities with public funding.

The increase in unaccompanied migrant minors in the protection system is a factor of tension in the structure of the Mallorcan Institute of Social Affairs (IMAS), which exercises competencies in Mallorca. The PP has made a weapon of political confrontation with the government of Pedro Sánchez regarding the distribution of minors and the financing of the reception system. Vox has gone further, demanding their expulsion as a solution and linking it, without data, to crime. Faced with this, the PSIB and MÉS frame the debate from the perspective of vulnerability, rights, and the transition of minors towards adult life.

What has failed?

However, the system does not explain what went wrong for a young man who had gone through the protection network to end up depending on a chain of informal accommodations. Alba signed up without hesitation. Her husband and their two children (aged 18 and 16) agreed. They emptied the office where they worked remotely and played video games and prepared a temporary stay for Musa. “After a few days I saw that everything was going very well, that he was a good person. I worry about his sadness, his nostalgia, seeing him quiet and pensive. He talks constantly with his family. The conclusion is that he doesn't need a house, four walls, and a roof, but a home, a refuge,” admits Alba.

Put his life in a bag

Before the two-week deadline was up, they spoke. Musa opens up and says it's hard for him to change houses, pack his life into a sports bag, and carry a bag of food. “Here I knew we wanted the same thing. With everyone's agreement, he becomes a new member of the family. With the same rules,” he continues. There is a change in perspective. The urgency to make a living disappears. “You can make a short, medium, and long-term plan. My concern is that he doesn't fall into a cycle of precariousness and that we all build a better quality of life for him, after having been left out of the emancipation circuit,” he adds.

Alba observes Musa and knows that he has trouble sleeping, that the traumatic experience is affecting him, and that he needs psychological attention. “Her innocence has protected her from being more broken. One of the first things she has done in this house has been to rescue a bird. For me, it is very symbolic.” There are no problems in the coexistence. “I like that he dismantles prejudices about life in other latitudes. He is a very active man at home. Without macho attitudes. On the contrary. He always tries to do cleaning. I have two teenagers who do nothing and with him I find everything done. He is very organized. He does not contribute to the chaos of the home,” Alba continues.

“My goal is for him to leave home with guarantees, just like one of my children would. I want him to think about what he would like to do. He must seek his personal fulfillment. I am planning his stay for years to come. May he be happy and have a full life”, he summarizes.

Musa plays football. He would like to be part of the Mallorca squad. And study. And work. “I have no words to describe my gratitude. My dream is to be able to live in my country with security and put an end to corruption; to create a foundation there based on education and that serves to build a better future”. For now, he already has a home. Alba arrives from work and likes to notice the smell of her scented sticks. If Musa has not left his room for dinner, his son replies: “Mom, he doesn't have to socialize all the time. Let's give him his space. He is in his house”.