Endika Azurmendi, 64, after working as a chef for over three decades, now sleeps wherever he can: on trains to Donostia, in hospital waiting rooms, or in damp storage units by the river. He has metastatic cancer, long Covid, can barely walk without a walker, and receives an 818-euro pension. Despite being registered with Etxebide for 12 years and applying for public housing, he has been told he "does not meet the requirements."
“"I have contributed all my life. What more do I have to do and suffer to be given a roof over my head?"
Azurmendi emphasizes his roots in Ribera de Deusto as a way to hold onto an identity he barely recognizes. He worked as a chef for over 30 years until the pandemic closed bars and restaurants. His last job was in a restaurant in Getxo. In 2023, he was diagnosed with metastatic lung cancer, leading to the removal of a large part of his right lung and a grueling chemotherapy process. During treatment, he contracted Covid, which left him with permanent debilitating effects.
His health has rapidly deteriorated: he lost most of his teeth due to chemo, developed glaucoma and cataracts, suffers from vertigo, constant pain, circulatory problems, and obesity, weighing 180 kilos. He needs medication he cannot afford, with one treatment costing around 300 euros monthly, not covered by social security as he is not diabetic. With a 60% recognized disability and a 28% mobility score, he receives an 818-euro total disability pension.
Until April 2025, he rented in Bolueta. When his situation became unsustainable, he decided to speak with his landlord and leave, believing the administration would help. However, in January 2026, his application for municipal housing was rejected because "the loss of his home does not generate a protected expectation of permanence."
Since then, his life has been a constant journey. He stayed in friends' apartments temporarily but ended up on the street on January 31. Today, he relies on precarious solutions: sleeping in damp storage units, hospital waiting rooms until guards expel him, or on night trains for warmth. He also stayed in a shelter but had to leave in March due to it being fully booked for Easter Week. He describes his daily life as "madness," never knowing where he will sleep or eat. Bureaucracy adds to his burden, with medical appointments and dealings with social services, Lanbide, and Cáritas, where he has only found temporary assistance.
Despite these challenges, he has a support network, particularly his friends from Ribera de Deusto and his former rugby family, the Sarriko Rugby Taldea, who provide monthly contributions. However, Endika insists he needs a structural solution, not temporary fixes. He seeks stable housing to recover, store his belongings, continue his treatment, and live with basic dignity.




