Working forty hours a week no longer guarantees financial strain. Retirement does not automatically shield someone from hardship either. Many people earn monthly income yet still wrestle with problems that should have been resolved long ago.
Paco and his wife are retirees who carried a debt from 2014 that the savings bank has refused to forgive. At the deepest point of the financial crisis, they offered to pay 200 euros a month instead of 300. They recovered financially in a relatively short time, but the bank never let go and the legal battle persists. They could lose their home. A loan of 14,000 euros has grown to 25,000 with interest because of the ongoing charges.
This reality drags many Valencian families into hardship. José Luis González, spokesperson for the People Affected by Mortgages Platform, or PAH, expresses grave concern about these cases. Families who can still pay may be driven toward ruin by debts that savings banks refuse to forgive. Their appeal targets the Generalitat Valenciana and, in a sense, the banks, arguing for what they call a “soft debt” for households that can pay like Paco and his wife. Yet forgiveness remains elusive.
Paco, who prefers to stay anonymous, reflects a broader pattern. He and his wife faced a 300-euro mortgage until 2014 when the crisis forced a halt in payments. “We needed money for food and other essentials, so we offered 200 euros for the asset, which was all we could manage,” he explains. The bank rejected the proposal.
The struggle stretched over several years. They sought counsel from PAH, which advised pausing payments to avoid letting interest erase the principal. They can cover the remaining 14,000 euros for years, yet the debt keeps growing because the organization’s risk chief has not accepted deadlines and condemned them for ending payments early. Now interest pushes the debt toward 25,000 euros.
The mortgage technically expired on May 31, 2021, but judgments come much earlier in the process. The first-instance court sided with Paco and his wife, and now the County Court will decide on an as-yet-undetermined sentence. They managed to pay mortgage costs up to the Supreme Court, which disputed their assets. Paco notes they could benefit from a one-year moratorium offered by the government if the decision turns unfavorable. This has been a long road, with a public defender who offered little real assistance or interest in their case.
Neither employment nor retirement guarantees the ability to hold a home. That’s a stark reality captured in the image and testimony that accompanies this story. “Neither a steady payroll nor retirement guarantees home ownership”, summarized the case in a recent report.
From Paco’s perspective, his work history spans a long arc: first as a freelancer, then many years at a company that deducted from his Social Security earnings. He finally retired with a modest pension. A social services program increased his pension to nearly 800 euros, and his wife, who faced unemployment past age 55, received about 400 euros more. They currently offer to keep paying 200 euros a month. Faced with monthly costs for housing, utilities, and medical needs, the practical decision is to pay what they can, yet renegotiations have repeatedly failed. He is undergoing treatment at the Valencia Institute of Oncology and tries to keep perspective amid the stress, even as health concerns complicate finances.
“We try not to suffocate under it all,” he says. “Banks are here to make money, period.” When asked why a long-time customer would forgo renegotiating debt, his response is blunt and honest.
She keeps all documents in a blue zippered case to stay organized. Every notice from the bank asks them to pause, and every case they have to argue against nonpayment remains unresolved, even though Paco could pay. “The last message asked me to sell the house to settle the debt. Should I sell the house and live under a bridge at my age? Nobody rents to a married couple aged 80 and 65,” she notes. “We just wanted a loan we could realistically pay off,” she adds.
Is it fair or unfair?
Amparo also works a permanent job and tries to keep a low profile, yet her situation is part of a larger pattern that resonates broadly. He earns minimum wage and had to move his son into a shared home to secure a lease. “They require about 2,500 euros in income to qualify for a lease,” she complains.
There was no one else available to help in the moment, so Amparo stepped in. Now she faces the reality that the absolute minimum income needed to claim rental assistance has become a barrier. The bureaucratic maze makes sure many do not qualify for housing support. Without a child’s registration, housing assistance is out of reach, and the department’s criteria for rental aid often feels like a trap. Amparo is not asking for a big handout—just a fair chance. She has a 40-hour job but cannot escape poverty, and she finds herself overlooked by a system that should be there to help. In frustration she emailed this newspaper describing the situation with the subject line: “Is it fair or unfair?”