Under a blazing sun and 26 degrees, across from the taekwondo school and right at the entrance of the village, you will find the inhabitants of Lomo Negro. Over 100 residents of this town in Arona, adjacent to El Fraile, gather with children in their arms, some on crutches and accompanied by dogs. Among them are both young and old, Spanish and foreign.
Lomo Negro stands as a representation of multiculturalism and residents who feel powerless in the face of the threat of having their homes demolished due to irregularities. This is why, this Saturday, they have organised a demonstration in front of the cultural centre of Los Cristianos to demand a resolution to their situation from the authorities, albeit with uncertainty and little hope.
DIARIO DE AVISOS visited the “unauthorised city”, as some label it, although the truth differs because, as per some residents, around 300 individuals experience “a tragic tale of helplessness”.
The area encompasses four plots of 400,000 square metres each, which, according to current regulations, cannot be utilised for residential purposes, even though there are numerous houses in practice. Due to its rural classification, Lomo Negro does not have access to water connections and lacks the legal capacity to offer basic residential amenities such as electricity. Nonetheless, for years, children and senior citizens have been residing in this village without essential public services to sustain a life of dignity.
About 250 individuals are registered with the Arona Town Hall and, consequently, utilise this property as their residence, paying municipal taxes like IBI and waste collection charges.
However, they face fines ranging from 80,000 to 150,000 euros for their unauthorised homes and mandatory demolition orders, which they have started receiving in recent weeks. Many individuals confess to this newspaper that they are undergoing depression and enduring a living nightmare. “I will be left homeless. Where do I go now? I used up my savings on this house,” is one of the most frequently heard phrases among the residents.
In essence, Lomo Negro resembles an impoverished neighbourhood. The initial section comprises of mobile homes. Moving towards a nearby mountain, there are semi-constructed houses, fragile structures, decent and embellished houses, and a few huts. Among them is the residence of Claudio Marcelo, a neighbour whose home was sealed off a few days ago. “My son had his leg amputated, and an 80-kilo stone fell on me. I can barely walk without crutches,” he mourns.
The first streets are not far from other streets akin to those found in neighbouring towns; however, a few steps further, any passerby entering this zone steps into the true Lomo Negro. To the right, there is a lengthy main street of approximately 250 metres, adorned with banana trees on either side, housing the first (mobile) homes. Several homes are situated within other streets awaiting paving (even though the residents claim to have paid out of their own pockets to have them smoothed and rolled over) and have solar panels and lighting installed, also installed by the residents because “children used to walk to school in darkness” prior to these improvements.
Following the initial 100 metres, intersecting roads vividly exhibit the issues prevailing in the area: walls lacking cement, unpaved dirt roads, ramshackle housing, and, above all, the sensation of entering a reality far removed from the so-called Welfare State. One feels as if they have left Tenerife and taken a leap into another era or location, a reality seemingly distant yet closer than perceived.
Elena Quiroga has resided here for two years and showcases her home to DIARIO DE AVISOS. Her fig tree garden on the outskirts captivates Daniel, another neighbour who jests, “Those figs are not far, I hope you invite me!”
Desperation and the challenge of finding a place to call home led them to Lomo Negro, alongside various other struggles they encounter daily. Rocío highlights the absence of water connections in their homes, recollects that children reside in Lomo Negro, and criticises the fact that “a squatter is not deprived of water or electricity – why are we?”
Suspension Agreed Upon or Compassion Extended
The inhabitants have formed a Residents’ Association and their legal advisor has proposed seeking a suspension or, at the very least, an act of leniency. According to him, “Where do you accommodate over 300 individuals? The municipal council needs to make a move,” he states, and others concur. They claim that neither journalists nor politicians have ever ventured into Lomo Negro. “They have turned a blind eye.” Likewise, they assert to be serving as “scapegoats.” “We are employees. We are here because we have no other option. They want us to pay hefty fines.” Above all, they pledge to resist and pursue the matter to the end. “This is not the end. We will fight for our rights,” they caution.
