During long days, a worker named Mohamed spends hours tearing down plasterboard ceilings, removing iron sheets, and stripping away useless cables, piling up rubble from the Camp Nou demolition sites. He is among the laborers involved in clearing the Barcelona Football Club stadium. At night, wrapped in a borrowed sleeping bag, he hides in the bushes in front of the club’s facilities. He explains that sleeping on the street was a necessity to protect his job, acknowledging that otherwise he could lose his employment. He asked to remain anonymous when sharing his story with El Periódico de Catalunya of the Prensa Ibérica group.
Mohamed, a 50-year-old Moroccan, began working on the Camp Nou project in June. He lives in a dilapidated home without water or electricity in Manresa. He says it is nearly impossible to find a suitable apartment, especially in Barcelona. Deposits and contracts are common obstacles, and if luck is scarce, meals become the priority. He trained hard before taking up work at Camp Nou. Precarious jobs in construction and livestock work, often without formal contracts, are a reality for many. Each day he wakes at five in the morning and travels across the metropolitan area by train, with the convoy departing his town at six o’clock to reach the stadium on time.
Delay and threats
Despite never receiving proper payment, Mohamed worked fourteen Saturdays at Camp Nou, from June 9 to September 8, performing tasks from early morning until early afternoon. On the first Saturday he arrived thirty minutes late because the initial train ran later than usual. When he explained the public transport issue to his supervisor, understanding did not come. Instead, the threat of losing his job hung over him. He was warned that another tardy arrival would result in dismissal. He was given a single day of grace, but then the tolerance ended. From that moment, he began sleeping on the street rather than risk unemployment.
Without rest
Since then Mohamed has spent fourteen nights outdoors, right in front of the place where he works. He spends every Friday night in the shrubs along the street that marks the boundary near the stadium, near the funeral home of Les Corts. It was frightening—mosquito bites, constant noise, and the fear that someone might see him or worse might happen. Yet he feels he has little choice. Losing the job would mean losing everything. He cannot imagine living without work.
The hardest part has been the additional six hours of Saturday work. He endured intense fatigue because lack of rest makes the work harder and can leave him weak and unable to function. He fears accidents in a job that is inherently risky. He worries about a wall collapse or a misstep that could injure him, especially after nights spent sleeping outdoors.
No fee on Saturdays
That anxiety grows when he checks his pay stub. He is not paid for these extra Saturdays. The construction contract indicates a weekly schedule that should yield 1,412.88 euros gross for Saturdays, but his actual earnings hover around 1,000 euros per month for roughly 56 hours weekly on the Barcelona sites. He voices his frustration: the pain he endures, the low pay, and the feeling of being treated as disposable. He confesses that he cannot read or write, and that he feels trapped by the need to work just to survive. He vents, saying that life is hard and that his current situation reduces him to a breadwinner fighting for dignity. He wants a different outcome, but he believes he has no alternative but to keep working.
Recently, during a media visit to the works, the Barcelona president, a moment of visibility for the project, greeted him. He recalls the handshake and the thanks he received, then reveals a desire to share more about the conditions. He wished for changes in how workers are treated and compensated, but the moment passed with his bosses posing for photographs with the club leadership, leaving him feeling stunned and embarrassed.
He spends hours each day tearing down plasterboard ceilings, removing iron sheets, and discarding pointless cables, piling rubble from the Camp Nou construction sites. Mohamed is among the workers involved in the stadium’s demolition. At night, however, he hides in the bushes outside the club’s facilities, wrapped in a borrowed sleeping bag. He confesses that sleeping on the street was necessary to avoid losing his job, and he requested anonymity to tell this story to El Periódico de Catalunya of the Prensa Ibérica group.
Mohamed, a 50-year-old Moroccan, arrived at Camp Nou in June. His living conditions are dire—an uninhabitable home lacking water and electricity in Manresa. He notes the difficulty of finding suitable housing, especially in Barcelona, with deposits and contracts being major hurdles. He describes a life of precarious work in construction and livestock, occasionally without contracts. Each morning he leaves at five, commuting across the metropolitan area by train, with a departure at six from his town.
Delay and threats
Even though payment was not forthcoming, Muhammad worked fourteen Saturdays at Camp Nou from June 9 to September 8. On Saturdays, the schedule required entry at eight and departure at two. The first Saturday, lateness due to public transport caused friction with management. The supervisor warned that further lateness would lead to dismissal. He lived with that fear as he slept on the street to avoid losing his job.
He explains that he told the manager about transport problems, but instead of understanding, he faced threats. He was told that another late arrival would end his employment. He accepted the one-day forgiveness, but after that, sleep on the street became the norm. He insisted he did not want unemployment.
Without rest
Since that time, Muhammad has spent fourteen nights outdoors, directly in front of his workplace. On Friday nights he hides in the bushes along the street at the northern entrance to the field, near the Les Corts funeral home. He describes the fear of not sleeping well, the constant noise, and the worry about someone noticing him. Yet he sees no alternative. Losing his job would mean losing everything. Living without work is not an option in his mind.
He recalls the most difficult days—the extra six hours on Saturdays. He describes the fatigue, the struggle to function, and the danger of an accident. He emphasizes the dangers of a job that requires vigilance and caution, especially after sleepless nights. He worries about a wall collapsing or a misstep that could cause harm, reinforcing the need for care on a site where risk is part of the daily routine.
No fee on Saturdays
The pay issue remains a source of tension. He notes that the payments do not match the contracted rate for the Saturdays. He reports earning around 1,000 euros monthly for a 56-hour week on the Barcelona sites, despite the contract listing a higher weekly gross on Saturdays. He describes the emotional toll of his situation, framing himself as a worker fighting for bread. He cannot read or write, and the struggle to speak up increases his sense of powerlessness. Yet he remains determined to endure because other employment opportunities seem unavailable. He describes life as relentlessly difficult, yet insists he has no choice but to persevere for the chance to survive. He recalls the moment when the club’s leadership acknowledged his presence, a public gesture that contrasted with the private reality of working conditions. The moment left him unsettled and anxious as he observed his superiors posing for photographs with the club’s leadership.