Copyright euroweeklynews
In the coastal town of Calpe on Spain’s eastern shore, a quiet yet powerful transformation is taking place. Once, the arrival of people fleeing conflict and persecution sparked suspicion and fear. Today, many residents understand that the refugees now living in the town did not come seeking hand-outs, but safety. For most, remaining in their home countries would have meant persecution — or even death. An in-depth conversation between journalist Itziar Doval from La Marina Plaza and refugee spokesperson Othmane Mounir highlights this painful reality: “Nobody leaves their land and gives up everything for a hand-out. They come because they have no other option.” Both stress the need to counter the false narrative that refugees are merely “welfare seekers” with empathy and facts. Fleeing danger Many of those who have settled in Calpe left behind unimaginable hardship. They risked everything to escape wartime violence, political persecution or targeted threats. Some arrived because they were LGBTQ and faced the prospect of imprisonment or execution in their home countries. For them, reaching Spain was not a choice but a desperate act of survival. Their names and origins are often kept private to protect them and to respect the sensitivity of their experiences. A change in perception Years ago, locals might have looked at a group of foreigners in Calpe and assumed they were economic migrants seeking work or benefits. That assumption is slowly being replaced by awareness. First-hand contact has shown that these newcomers did not leave their homes lightly. As one resident admitted, “Before, when there was a problem, we automatically assumed it was those people. We no longer do.” Municipal authorities and local associations have been instrumental in fostering this shift. Through educational workshops and integration initiatives, they support around forty people of different nationalities. These programmes offer guidance on immigration procedures, housing, healthcare, employment and human rights — giving displaced individuals the tools to rebuild their lives with dignity. The human cost Some of the most moving testimony comes from those who recount the price of staying behind. For one, remaining would have meant forced recruitment into a violent conflict; for another, being open about their sexuality could have led to imprisonment or execution. In these accounts, Calpe represents far more than a new address — it is a lifeline. Yet even in safety, challenges remain. Bureaucratic hurdles, language barriers, limited job opportunities and lingering trauma continue to test resilience. As Mounir points out, integration is not automatic; it demands empathy from locals, support from institutions and courage from refugees themselves. Why their story matters Behind every “refugee” label lies a human story marked by danger, courage and hope. Calpe — best known as a sunny tourist destination — is also a place of quiet heroism. The line separating economic migration from flight for survival becomes meaningless when one’s only choices are escape or death. The town’s evolving experience offers a lesson for Europe: listen, understand and respond with compassion. When people flee war, persecution or discrimination for who they are, their arrival is not migration — it is the pursuit of life itself. As one refugee told Doval, “We came because we had no other option.” Those few words carry both the weight of desperation and the promise of renewal. By opening its doors to those who had nowhere else to go, Calpe has become more than a seaside resort — it has become a sanctuary, one story at a time.
