Illegal Porto Lodgings Packed 50 Migrant Workers into Two Floors

An early-morning sweep in the heart of Porto has exposed a clandestine lodging scheme that squeezed roughly 50 South-Asian migrants into two unlicensed storeys steps away from the city’s postcard-perfect Clérigos Tower. Authorities say the discovery is more than a one-off violation: it highlights the collision between Porto’s overheated rental market and the growing influx of low-wage foreign workers.

What mattered most, at a glance

• Two entire floors above a convenience shop were sealed for lacking any habitability permit.

• Investigators found 19 improvised rooms, each meant for two occupants, renting at €250 per bed.

• The tenants—mostly from Nepal, Bangladesh and India—had already vacated when officers arrived, leaving behind bags and documents.

• Municipal officials argue the case fits a wider pattern of overcrowding and labour exploitation in the north of Portugal.

The raid on Rua dos Clérigos

Porto’s municipal inspection team descended on the discreet building just after dawn, flanked by the Metropolitan Police Command and backed by plain-clothes agents from the foreigners’ unit. According to City Hall, inspectors were acting on a string of neighbourhood tips about "people coming and going at odd hours" and muffled construction inside the upper floors. Once inside, they encountered hastily erected partitions that carved the two levels into a maze of plywood cubicles, each no bigger than 7 m².

Mayor Pedro Duarte, who observed the sealing in person, said the walls bore no fireproofing, no emergency exits and no ventilation other than makeshift fans. “This is not lodging; it is a form of human warehousing,” he told reporters while municipal workers drilled steel plates onto the entrances.

How the business model worked

Investigators believe a small network of intermediaries—often compatriots of the tenants—rented the empty floors for a modest commercial lease, then sub-let beds at a 300 % markup. New arrivals to Porto’s construction and cleaning sectors were allegedly promised “central rooms” online before wiring deposits through informal channels such as hawala or instant-transfer apps. Once in Portugal, migrants discovered that two people shared each narrow mattress, and personal belongings were stored in plastic bags hanging from the ceiling to free up floor space. Still, the €250 monthly fee undercut even the most spartan legal rooms in central Porto, which now hover near €500 for a single bed-space, according to housing platform Idealista.

Migrant workers caught in the middle

Portuguese recruiters have increasingly tapped Nepalese and Bangladeshi labour to fill gaps in tourism, agriculture and e-commerce logistics. While the new Agency for Migration and Asylum (AIMA) speeds up residency papers, housing remains the migrants’ greatest obstacle. Advocacy group Solidariedade Imigrante says demand has spawned a shadow market where landlords bypass safety rules to squeeze more rent. For workers earning minimum-wage contracts of €820, sub-standard beds often feel like the only affordable option near job sites.

What the law says—and the penalties

Under Portugal’s Decree-Law 39/2008, any building offering paid accommodation requires a licença de utilização. Fines for operating without one range from €2,500 to €32,000, and Porto can impose additional sanctions for public-health violations. City officials have already opened an administrative process against the commercial leaseholder and are weighing a criminal referral for facilitating illegal stay—an offence carrying up to two years in prison when coupled with exploitation.

A wider pattern in the Invicta

The episode follows similar crackdowns last year in Campanhã and Paranhos, where firefighters evacuated dozens of migrants from basement dorms lacking windows or fire exits. Housing economists warn that Porto’s short-term rental boom—fueled by tourism and remote-work relocations—has removed roughly 6,000 residential units from long-term supply since 2021, nudging vulnerable newcomers into informal setups.

Municipal housing councillor Sofia Amorim told local radio that City Hall will launch random night inspections in areas with high densities of convenience stores and takeaways operated by South-Asian communities. “We must be sure the city’s prosperity is not built on unsafe and unlawful sleeping quarters,” she said.

What happens next

With the premises now officially sealed, authorities must identify the true owners behind the paper company that signed the lease—often a convoluted task when shell entities are registered abroad. AIMA’s liaison officers are contacting the displaced migrants to verify their documents and, when possible, steer them toward legal shared housing near industrial zones outside the historic centre.

Porto’s mayor has called on Parliament to give municipalities more power to curb “bedspace trafficking,” arguing that hefty fines alone rarely deter repeat offenders. Lawmakers are expected to debate amendments to national housing regulations in the spring session.

For residents strolling past the ornate granite façade on Rua dos Clérigos, the sealed metal plates stand as both a relief and a warning: Porto’s accommodation crisis is no longer confined to tourist rentals; it now reaches straight into the city’s labour engine, affecting foreigners and locals alike.