The City That Invites But Cannot House
By Zora Filali | Culture | April 8, 2026
Cover Illustration: Affordable Housing, it’s a wonderful lie, 2024. Samuel Reagan-Asante / Unsplash
Amsterdam promises to welcome international students with open arms, but reporter Zora Filali investigates how so many students become powerless in suboptimal living conditions and to what degree universities should be held accountable.
“The lights have to be out by 8 pm, no talking!” my landlord demanded. The first semester of my studies and personal schedule would have to comply with this strict curfew, because what could I do? When I did find my room in Amsterdam West on Kamernet, I could not possibly decline the offer, since the beginning of my studies was approaching.
Arranging student housing independently proves to be a major challenge for students. It is widely known that the housing crisis in Amsterdam is a pressing issue. But just how bad it is, you only experience when actually moving – or, let’s say, trying to move.
Even though Amsterdam has seen a slight decline in recent years, promising universities with good reputations cause students to flock to the already overcrowded city every academic year. At least 8,000 new first year international students decide to enroll at the University of Amsterdam. After all, the University of Amsterdam offers over 20 Bachelor’s and even more Master’s programmes taught entirely in English.
At the same time, institutions paint the city as idyllic, safe, and overall welcoming – an optimal environment for international students. Sounds like they should have an amazing experience studying in Amsterdam, right?
For some, yes. For rather unlucky students, not quite.
Universities do provide arranged housing opportunities in the form of a randomized lottery system. That said, not everyone that is admitted to the university gets lucky with housing. The ones that do not win the housing lottery are left to fend for themselves on the housing battlefield.
Room-seekers resort to online housing platforms, often having to pay a fee for these sites’ applications without ever getting a response. When scrolling through advertised rooms on Facebook, for instance, one is often met with the caption “NO INTERNATIONALS!!!”– not particularly welcoming for non-Dutch students.
Therefore, when students are finally able to secure housing, they are willing, or more so forced, to compromise and tolerate a rent higher than their monthly budget for tiny spaces.
These conditions make for a perfect breeding ground for power imbalances between landlord and tenants, where student tenants are often at the losing end. Desperation for housing of any kind often brings about willingness to put up with financial scams and even disrespect.
The room I found on Kamernet in Amsterdam West was advertised as “fully furnished”. Otherwise meaning: a moldy mattress and a tiny closet. The same applied for the kitchen, where I was granted the right to utilize exactly one fork, one spoon, one knife and one pot so as not to “mix” with and touch any of the family’s household utilities.
It quickly became even clearer to me that my host family did not actually want a tenant, but only the rent I was able to provide. Getting scolded and micromanaged was a daily occurrence as I was forbidden to talk on the phone or to keep lights on after 8pm. Moreover, to my surprise, I was not allowed to use the washing machine unless I paid a 30 euro charge per wash.
My breaking point came when I fell ill due to mold in my mattress and on the ceiling that had been painted over. Silverfish and other roaches kept migrating to these damp areas, making the room increasingly uninhabitable. When I raised concerns with my host family about these conditions, I was met with indifference and annoyance instead of empathy. I knew that I had put up with too much.
Sadly, for many students, Dutch or international, their reality consists of tiny rooms, shared with strangers that cost at least 900 euros per month – mold and a horribly uncivil landlord included, if you’re lucky. What is advertised as an exciting new chapter abroad can quickly turn into a daily struggle for basic living standards.
Higher education institutions benefit greatly from international students. Accordingly, considering playing a more active role in addressing the housing conditions many students face might be beneficial for everyone.
Nevertheless, universities’ promotional efforts and exploitative landlords are not the core cause of the extreme housing crisis. The root of the housing crisis is more intricate. A structural imbalance between supply and demand, which was intensified by marketization in the 2010s, where policies prioritized the market over social housing. Furthermore, big corporations or foreign institutional investors buy up a significant amount of homes in cities like Amsterdam, disregarding the consequences for ordinary people.
Another example that resulted in a significant drop in new constructions, but a stark increase of rental prices, was a tax imposed by the government on housing associations and private landlords, the “landlord levy” (verhuurderheffing). All the while, approximately 50,000 expats kept settling in Amsterdam annually. As a result, every Dutch or international person that is not from an upper, or upper-middle class background struggles with finding a place. This structural shortage does not only affect residents but also has serious implications for students arriving in Amsterdam.
Against this backdrop of structural issues, the discrepancy between the welcoming image promoted by educational institutions and students’ lived experience of Amsterdam’s housing market carries consequences beyond financial strain. Students who anticipate a welcoming environment frequently encounter stress, uncertainty and isolation instead due to the pressure of securing housing. The disappointment of realizing that the city is much less accessible and welcoming as promised can take a toll on mental health, even undermine academic performance and overall well-being. These issues raise questions of how we can hold universities accountable for helping their students find housing and to what extent do these institutions really have access for meaningful intervention.
Zora Filali is a university student in Amsterdam. The views expressed here are not necessarily those of The Amsterdammer.
