Sambou Fissourou remembers little of the day he boarded a small boat in his home country of Mali, heading for the Canary Islands. It was 14th May 2020, and he was only 15 years old. “I tried to spend as much time sleeping as possible,” he tells DIARIO DE AVISOS. He admits he didn’t even know where the Canary Islands were: “At one point, I started seeing houses and was told we had arrived in Spain.”
The teenager arrived alone at the port of Arinaga in Gran Canaria, like many unaccompanied migrant minors. He felt lost. After passing through a reception centre, he began to adapt to a new land, with a different language and uncertainty about his future. He confesses the first months in the archipelago were very challenging: “I didn’t know what life was like here, how I could study, and so on.”
One and a half years later, he was relocated to Tenerife and welcomed by the Asociacion Coliseo, where at the age of 20 he now works as a mediator for children who have survived the perilous Canary route, which has claimed 1,482 lives in the initial months of 2025, according to data from Caminando Fronteras.
From Uncertainty to Hope
Fissourou has experienced all stages of the reception and integration process for migrants in the island’s society. Much of the credit, he says, goes to Coliseo and its staff: “They have helped me grow a lot. In three years, I completed a Basic Vocational Training course, my A-Levels, and I am now studying at university.” He gestures to his left, pointing to Ainhoa Castedo, one of the coordinators at the Tenerife NGO: “She, who was my director, has been key to my integration.”
The Asociacion Coliseo focuses on the care of children and adolescents in the Islands, managing centres and residential care projects. It is worth noting that the archipelago hosts over 5,000 unaccompanied migrant minors and has been calling for solidarity from other regions of Spain, which has yet to materialise, even after the introduction of a decree that facilitates the redistribution of these children and adolescents to relieve pressure on territories like the Canary Islands, Ceuta, and Melilla.
“We try to integrate them as much as possible because, after all, they are children and adolescents,” explains Ainhoa Castedo. “We look for training and activities to prepare them and provide educational support. Additionally, at the centre, they have two hours of mandatory Spanish classes.” This description reflects how the care resources should work, combining language teaching with academic training and activities that encourage coexistence.
“If I Don’t Work, I Don’t Eat”
The story of Sambou Fissourou also serves to debunk one of the most common myths about migrant minors: that they come to live off benefits. His example confirms this; he juggles studying and working, is involved in social projects, and wants to keep learning. He makes it even clearer: “If I don’t work, I don’t eat. It is very difficult to study and work at the same time.” His case is not isolated: “The vast majority, even if they don’t reach university, make the most of their time and leave with jobs,” notes Castedo.
The enormous amount of falsehoods surrounding migrant minors in the Canary Islands impacts them significantly. Sambou Fissourou confirms many of the claims made are untrue: “I don’t receive any financial aid.” In fact, while studying for his A-Levels at IES La Laboral in La Laguna, he worked as a waiter in the afternoons. Ainhoa Castedo highlights the young Malian’s dedication and effort: “He has a habit of studying from five in the morning, even on weekends.”
Fissourou believes the myths being circulated heavily affect the perception some locals hold about migrants from Africa: “They think we come here and receive more aid than their children, but when you leave the centre, you have to fend for yourself. We have no family here. The reality is very different from what is portrayed.”
A Promising Future
At the headquarters of Coliseo, where many of these minors receive support, coordinator Ainhoa Castedo uses Sambou Fissourou’s case as an example: “We are pleased with Sambou’s progress. Most of the boys who pass through here are like him: they leave documented, find work, and some even share a flat. We also help them find accommodation.”
When asked about his future, the young man responds firmly: “Make the most of every moment and dedicate myself to a field I love immensely; studying, working, and seizing opportunities as they arise.” This attitude is what he aims to convey as a mediator to other young survivors of the world’s most dangerous migration route.
