Social media fueled hopes of reaching Ceuta. DW meets Moroccans caught between no future at home and the risks ahead.

Fnideq, a Moroccan city, sits just a few kilometers from Spain's Spanish enclaves of Ceuta and Melilla. Despite the short distance, the dreams of crossing these borders and the grim realities faced by would-be migrants are worlds apart. After 72,000 people crossed into Ceuta in July, social media buzzed with calls for another mass crossing in mid-August.

However, the July crossing resulted in around 100 deaths, and many of the survivors returned to Morocco. Of those who managed to reach Ceuta, around 2,000 to 8,000 now live there in dire conditions, sleeping on beaches as authorities decide their fate.

Malika, a mother of two, stayed in Fnideq after hearing about the July crossing. Her life is bleak; she and her children are starving and homeless, with her husband suffering from depression due to extreme poverty. Malika still hopes to reach Ceuta, where she believes her family will find support. Meanwhile, Ahmed Amhid, a 22-year-old, came to Fnideq after hearing about the August crossing.

He has no job opportunities in his hometown, feeling there is no future in Morocco. Social media has fueled a new wave of digital mobilization, creating a sense of exclusion for those who don't join the migration movement.

Despite hearing about the crossings, Mohamed al-Dami, a 30-year-old, is not contemplating migration. He finds the economic situation in Morocco unstable but believes there is no need to risk the journey to Ceuta. Local merchant Munir Hamdouch, 34, feels that the city's tourism decline has led to economic stagnation, but he hasn't thought about emigrating. Civil society activist Mohamed Azzouz acknowledges that migration has changed Fnideq's dynamics, turning it from a transit point to a base for migrants.