Marina’s sad journey: survivor of abuse on the verge of being “homeless”

“I really don’t know where to begin to tell you,” says Marina. She is so nervous that she gets lost in her own story: backwards, forwards… It is difficult to order chaos. First, the urgent: a few days ago, the City Council of San Martín del Rey Aurelio gave him a report of the ruin of the house he bought with the little money he had (he contributes the document to this newspaper). On the other hand, the Consistory – to questions from LA NUEVA ESPAÑA, a newspaper belonging to the same editorial group as this medium – stated that it did not have such a file. “Despite being a victim of gender-based violence, despite the fact that everything I had went to this house… Nobody can help me.” He shrugs, sighs. And two words that tear: “We’re alone”.

She and her two children, who made a thousand kilometers of highway to live. When they got to the deliveryThe little one was four months old. “I did it to get away from that person (his aggressor, according to the sentence issued together with the restraining order) and also because it is cheaper to live in Asturias. I found very cheap rentals online.” With what he had saved, he went to rent to start a new life. And soon an opportunity arose that he hadn’t even looked for: he was offered to buy a house, small but nice, in San Martin. He did the math: “I could get ready to live for a while while I prepared the house for a while, and then fix it little by little so that it would be super nice. I wanted to have the home I never had, you know. A place that both my children and I can always return to.”

At last he felt strong. At last he was beginning to feel safe. “It was one very cheap house, that’s true. And, to be sure that no one was deceiving me, I asked the Town Hall if the house had certificate of occupancy”. The answer, she says, was “a resounding yes.” He called an architect to review the property, before starting the work plans. “He didn’t say anything to me either, so I moved on.” He bought material, drywall, tools. The dream grew, the bank account dwindled.

The deadline to move into the new house, with a living area while work continued, was this month. A term that she set for herself, estimating the money she had left to continue renting before taking the step. A few days ago, he went to register. And he felt the weight of the world on him: “It was then that they told me that the house was in a state of ruin, that I couldn’t live there because it was a danger to me and my children. Suddenly, I found myself without my house and with the rent about to end.

And no means to get ahead. Because, he says, “I spent all my savings on the house, I asked for a personal loan for the work.” In the last month, another blow, they lowered the allocation of the Minimum Vital Income: “I was entitled to 800 and some euros for being a single mother of two children, I received 301 euros. This is in the hands of Social Services, but it is not what worries me the most. What keeps me up at night, really, is that we are left homeless.” He planned to look for a job, he has more than 3,000 days of contributions at 36 years of age, but he was waiting for the children to grow up a bit: “I don’t have anyone to leave them with and the little one was very young when we arrived.”

No one can help her. Not even as a victim of gender-based violence: “I have been told that I am not entitled to emergency housing, or a foster home, because I am not in imminent danger. I am not in imminent danger because I have tried, during the last months, save me”. Marina affirms that the only solution that has been proposed to her, unofficially, is that she go to the house of “a distant friend or relative” while everything improves. He says that he doesn’t think it’s an answer, he looks at the top of his house. He shrugs: “I’m not from here, I don’t have anyone.” Again, the two words that tear: “We’re alone”.