How one hard-hit Madrid neighbourhood is fighting for social change

Just south of Madrid’s historic centre lies Lavapiés, one of the Spanish capital’s oldest and most eclectic districts. It’s even been crowned “the coolest neighbourhood in the world”. Yet it is a place where Airbnbs, evictions, foodbanks and rioting have become commonplace. Before lockdown, protests were a regular occurance in Lavapiés. Now the Covid-19 pandemic has exacerbated everything residents had been fighting for. As restrictions ease, residents are returning to the streets in the hope that this summer will mark the beginning of much-needed change, and to see if lessons from past crises have truly been learned.

A historial map of Lavapiés shows that its dense street layout hasn’t changed since at least 1658, when houses were much smaller. Between the mid 18th and mid 19th centuries, the industrial revolution saw mass migration of provincial Spaniards to the booming capital. In the same narrow streets, tall residential buildings were quickly erected to house workers ­– their homes averaging just 30 square meters with a communal toilet on each floor. That high density of housing remains to this day. The area has attracted immigrant communities and low income families. It’s one of Madrid’s poorest neighbourhoods, with an average household income of just €12,000 per year

Cheap accommodation and an eclectic mix of locals is also what makes the neighbourhood appealing to tourists. Lavapiés feels  like a nexus between Europe, Asia and Africa. Meander through the narrow, cobbled streets and you’ll spot traditional Spanish bars, Senegalese diners, Bangladeshi travel agents and elegant brunch joints. But look up at the pastel-blue sky and you’ll see protest banners hanging between the narrow balconies – which tour guides have even started to include as sights.

On the evening of 30 June, neighbours organised a march called Lavapiés En Pie (Lavapiés Still Standing), demanding urgent post-Covid social measures. Fourteen groups each with a separate demand – including an end to gentrification, evictions, homelessness, poverty, systemic racism, police abuse and more - marched to the town hall and unrolled their handmade banners. Chants and vuvuzelas (traditional African horns) met beats played on African djembes (hand drums) and Bangladeshi tablas (drums), joined by women fighting against domestic abuse by banging paella pan lids together like cymbals.

Most of this activism predates the pandemic, but the lockdown has intensified the desire for change. A large number of residents are active in the (Papers for all) movement, a grassroots campaign for the legalisation of migrants living in Spain. This movement started in March 2018 after the sudden death of a 34-year-old Senegalese migrant, Mame Mbaye, led to violent rioting throughout the streets of Lavapiés. Mbaye suffered a fatal cardiac arrest outside his home, and although a post-mortem concluded he’d died of natural causes, many residents believe he died as a result of being chased by the police. 

The afternoon following his death, thousands of protestors gathered on Plaza de Nelson Mandela and the surrounding streets shouting “¡Ningún ser humano / es ilegal!” (No human being is illegal!), drowning out the whir of helicopters hovering above. Just around the corner burning candles, handwritten messages and fresh flowers graced the doorway of Mbaye’s former home, in the exact spot where he died. 

Tourism-related displacement has also taken a toll on the neighbourhood in recent years. Now people are even more worried the looming economic recession. Lavapiés has seen one of Spain’s most rapid rent increases due to speculation and Airbnb removing property from the local rental market. Between 2018 and 2019, the average cost of rent in Madrid increased by almost 60% – which is significantly more than the already-high nationwide average increase of 7% in this same period.

Rosa Santiago is a victim of this trend. Until just over a year ago, she lived on Calle Argumosa, a popular street filled with bars. She says that her new landlords increased her monthly rent from €400  to €1,700, and that she was expelled from her home after being unable to pay. This took place in what was one of Spain’s most high-profile evictions.

Rosa now lives with her cousin, Pepi Santiago, in Barrio del Pilar, a working-class neighbourhood in the north of Madrid. At a recent eviction support group meeting, Pepi, close to tears with frustration, described the situation: “There are six of us in one flat with just one bathroom. It takes us an hour to get to Lavapiés by public transport, but we still come here all the time because this is our home. We were born in Lavapiés, we grew up in Lavapiés, and we will return to Lavapiés.”

The Covid-19 pandemic has made the need for better social policies more urgent than ever. The lockdown and dwindling visitor numbers have hit the neighbourhood hard. Many foodbanks have been set up with thousands of people still receiving daily hot meals and weekly food parcels. Most of those queuing two metres apart along the sloping streets find themselves relying on foodbanks for the first time, although many were already on the breadline before the pandemic hit.

“We’ve learned nothing,” laments 62-year-old Mario Fernández while pouring a beer at Bar La Peña, which he has run for 30 years. “This is the same as the last crisis. My younger customers disappear because they’ve got no job, no money and because they have to pay their high rent.” This fits a wider picture. By 2018 Spain had lost over 18,000 bars as a result of the 2010 financial crisis, with many more expected to have closed since.  

Until a few months ago, a mural of Mame Mbaye covered the exterior side wall of Mario’s bar, which acted as a draw for many in the neighbourhood. “I used to have a diverse mix of customers. Now mostly just older people come to my bar”, he says.

Mario’s experience of the last financial crisis has convinced him the worst is yet to come. “It’s only been two months since we came out of lockdown. Just wait until next year, when yet more bars will have closed,” he warns.

An estimated 40,000 bars, hotels and restaurants in Spain have permanently closed due to the coronavirus crisis. By the end of the year, that figure is expected to rise to 65,000, which is equivalent to 20% of all bars, hotels and restaurants that were open before the pandemic.

Mario is hopeful that his bar will survive this crisis and that, thanks to his generous tapas and one of the best tortillas in the city (according to locals), his loyal clientele will help see his business through the toughest months to come.

Lavapiés is a neighbourhood with deep community roots – something which became even more apparent during the city’s extreme lockdown. Bunting hung across almost every street, and balcony bingo became an evening ritual right before the nightly applause for healthcare workers. The rainbow-coloured decorations remain, symbolically weaving together the neighbourhood. And with their renewed energy for protest, residents’ bonds seem to have only grown stronger.