Behind one of the many green fences at the IND registration center and the COA reception center lies the odd one out of Ter Apel: the freedom-restricting location. There are no people living here who hope to start a life in the Netherlands, but rather people who have to leave.
According to then Minister of Asylum and Migration Marjolein Faber (PVV), undocumented people who were in a bed-bath-bread shelter in the city could go there. After all, they were not entitled to residence status and had to leave instead of staying in ‘subsidized shelter’. She decided that the bed-bath-bread shelter in five cities (Amsterdam, Groningen, Utrecht, Eindhoven and Rotterdam) had to close as of January 1, 2025.
But on Friday, the Rotterdam administrative court ruled that Faber should not have terminated the shelter for sixteen of the twenty Rotterdam undocumented migrants. The minister, the judge stated, had failed to ensure that the sixteen would not end up in an inhumane situation after the end of the shelter. This is contrary to the Charter of the EU and other European treaties.
The verdict is a boost for lawyer Pim Fischer, who objected on behalf of 546 undocumented people immediately after the minister’s decision. Pending the minister’s response to this ruling, which took months, the shelter had to remain open, the court ruled. On Friday, the judge declared the appeal of sixteen undocumented immigrants in Rotterdam well-founded. Fischer: “I look forward to things in the other cities with great confidence.”
The lawsuit revolved around the question of whether you can make people homeless, says Pim Fischer in response to the verdict. “The court is clear: no. So not. There must be unconditional shelter for everyone. The fact that people were put on the street on January 1, 2025 is a gross human rights violation. The court agrees with me on that.”
Vulnerable
Foreigners who have shelter in the bed-bath-bread shelter are all vulnerable, not self-reliant, they have no network, are not allowed to work and they are not entitled to facilities, the court writes in the ruling. Although they are not entitled to residence status, the government is obliged to provide minimal care. This care was therefore not guaranteed for the sixteen foreigners.
According to Fischer, there is also a setback in the ruling: for four undocumented migrants the termination was lawful because they were offered a place in the restrictive location (vbl) in Ter Apel. Foreign nationals who are not allowed to stay in the Netherlands, who have to return to their country of origin and who must cooperate in that return, can go there.
The minister’s lawyer argued during the hearing that the vbl would be a suitable place for all people in the former bed-bath-bread shelter. The minister thus fulfilled her obligation to provide care. Location manager Johan Penninkhof, also present in the hearing room, agreed: “There is enough space in the vbl, and as long as people cooperate in their return, everyone is welcome,” he said. The court agreed.
Three ‘units’
Behind the green fences of the reception location in Ter Apel are the three blocks of houses, ‘units’ in COA terms. Each unit fits a maximum of eight people, the VBL has a total of 232 beds. Sometimes that is a complicated puzzle: “We do not place a man alone in a free bedroom with a family with young children,” says Penninkhof, as he walks through the only currently uninhabited unit, “so there is sometimes a room empty.”
There is a games room with some games and tea. Residents can volunteer on site for a few hours a week for 6 euros per day, and children can go to school. Adults receive 58 euros per week to do their shopping, families with children a little more. Adults must report every day, except weekends. They are allowed to leave the site, but must remain within the municipality of Westerwolde and therefore cannot travel through the country like other asylum seekers. For example, they are available for discussions with the Return and Departure Service, Refugee Council or the IOM, an organization that helps with return.
“We balance between not offering too much and not too little,” says Penninkhof. Sober. This is how he describes the vbl. More sober than the other departments in Ter Apel. There is a reason for this: “It is a departure location. We don’t want people to come here and think ‘life in the Netherlands isn’t that bad’, and then decide to stay.”
Sober
The room of Shakawan Tofik (44) from Iraq can indeed be called austere. Bare walls, two single beds with dark blue bedding in a room of about six square meters, separated by an open cupboard. Tofik shares the room with another Iraqi.
He has lived in the Netherlands for ten years. After a failed asylum process, he ended up in Maastricht, where he was dependent on aid organizations, slept in night shelters and hardly found work. “That was no life,” he says.
He ended up in the VBL through such an organization. He’s been there for a week now. Next week he will leave for Iraq with the help of the IOM, where he no longer has any family or acquaintances. But: “With that help, everything should be fine,” says Tofik, shrugging his shoulders, leaning against the wall. “It doesn’t get worse than this.”
Atiba Clarke (38) from Trinidad and Tobago, an island state off the coast of Venezuela, stops by to visit friends. He was in the vbl for a while. His asylum application was rejected because his country is not classified as unsafe by the IND. That’s true in itself, he says, but things are different for a bisexual person like him. He said he spent five years in prison. He appealed against the rejection and therefore could not be deported. He was transferred to the asylum seekers’ center in Hoogeveen.
He is better off there than in Ter Apel, he says. In the VBL he was harassed by the other residents because of his sexual preference. “My food and belongings were stolen. I didn’t feel safe.” In Hoogeveen he lives with other queer people. “That makes it easier and safer.”
Collection too full
He didn’t think the VBL was a nice place, even though the ‘staff’ was friendly. “People have to leave and therefore experience a lot of stress.” When they are picked up for release, it is at 5 o’clock in the morning. That is very unpleasant to see.”
Return within twelve weeks is not feasible for all residents. Sometimes it takes longer. There are extreme exceptions: two Angolan sisters have been living there for five years. A sister is in a wheelchair and cannot be deported for medical reasons. The other sister ‘belongs’ in the VBL because she can be deported, but she is an informal caregiver. Turning hair off is inhumane.
Fischer does not understand that, according to the COA and the minister, undocumented migrants can go to the VBL. Because then the minister would have offered his sixteen clients a place, wouldn’t he? “Apparently they do not meet the conditions.” In addition, says Fischer, it is common knowledge that the COA pays one penalty after another because the shelter in Ter Apel is too full, including the VBL. Isn’t it a bizarre idea that there would be all kinds of free beds?”
