Hope is alluring. It’s the great force that has caused many to gather up house and home and seek refuge in a far-off land.

Such is the determination of over a million refugees from the Middle East, who have fled the war-ravished countries of Iraq, Afghanistan, and Syria in favor of European stability. These migrants travel through Turkey to the adjacent Greek Isles, where they are legally kept until their immigration case is settled.

However, with such an influx of asylum seekers in recent years, the processes typically used to grant citizenship have become stagnant and inefficient—so much so, that in the Greek refugee camp Moria, conditions have become otherworldly hellish. Bolstered by the Greek government’s own failures, inhabitants wait in vain for up to two years, desperately clawing at the smallest semblances of normality. Among the many dislocated people packed into Moria, hope is quickly fading to resignation and imprisonment. The treatment of these vulnerable people is nothing short of a human rights abuse, and the Greek government must act immediately to mitigate further damage.

Moria is a refugee camp on the Greek isle of Lesbos. Originally designed as a detention center, it quickly became an intermediate gateway for refugee entrance to Greece. Desperate immigrants arrive by the boatload on Lesbos, having crossed a narrow strait in the Aegean sea between the island and Turkey. The beaches are spotted with eerie piles of discarded neon life vests, their owners long gone or, more likely, left to rot somewhere further inland.

With more rafts landing every day, Moria has become inhumanely overpopulated. Its residents are packed together like sardines, who must compete just to meet their most fundamental needs. Built for a population of 700, Moria’s population overflow was patched by enough temporary housing to sustain 3,100. Today, over 9,000 people reside in the camp, sharing miniscule shacks or loose tarps for protection. The average inmate waits twelve hours a day for moldy food, shares a toilet with 70 people, and shares a shower with 80. Raw sewage leaks across the grounds, sometimes finding its way into areas where young children camp. Such hostile conditions speak to an undeniable level of negligence.

This endless physical abuse wears away at the mental wellbeing of Moria’s inhabitants. Sexual harassment runs rampant, affecting girls, women, and even young boys. For their safety, girls are advised not to use the bathrooms at night and must be escorted even during the day for fear of being raped. The International Rescue Committee runs a mental health center at the camp and recently released a report revealing that 50% of all treated patients had experienced gendered or sexual violence. Moreover, 60% of patients reported “suicidal ideations,” and 30% had previously attempted suicide. Ironically, for many, even attempts to take their own lives aren’t enough to free themselves from Moria’s grasp. The New York Times reports that due to overcrowding, these suicide victims are quickly discovered and resuscitated. With little access to the basic necessities for life, many have found Moria to be a darker fate than whatever hell they sought to escape.

How could it have gotten so bad? The answer lies in a 2016 deal between the European Union and Turkey intended to discourage immigration. Under the deal, refugees must apply for asylum or be sent back to Turkey. As a result, camps like Moria have been transformed from intermediary checkpoints along the path to Europe into strongholds intended to imprison asylum seekers until their case is tried. Then, they are either dragged back to Turkey, or shipped onto the Greek mainland. On the most fundamental level, there is is nothing inherently wrong with this system; it makes sense to have some form of immigration checkpoint, especially on such a highly trafficked route. Yet, Moria is not capable of supporting this arrangement, which has slowed to a crawl under the stress. Today, it languishes along, the failing cog in a machine that violates the basic human rights of thousands of people.

For Moria, there is a deceptively simple solution. Most important, additional funding would allow the camp to drastically improve its conditions with better food, facilities, cleanup, resources, and security. With such funding, Greece would be able to resolve overcrowding by simply expanding the camp.

Such funds were in fact allocated by the E.U.—around €561 million in long-term funding for Greece to sort out its immigration problems, but Greece has managed to bumble this life-saving funding. The vast majority of the money has not been released, since Greece has not met the level of “strategic planning” required in its terms. Of that which has been released—around €153 million—an even vaster majority was misspent. One official estimated this leakage at around 70% of received funds—about €110 million. Therefore, only around €43 million has served its actual humanitarian purpose. The Greek government must plug these leaks and reorient its priorities around the thousands of hopeful immigrants whose lives are being all but decimated while the government continues to chase its short, incompetent tail.

Article 25 of the U.N. Resolution on Human Rights states that every human is entitled to “a standard of living adequate for [his] health and wellbeing.” Yet the inhabitants at camp Moria are robbed of even their most basic human rights on a daily basis. They live in fear and hopelessness, surviving only from meal to meal. With sanitary travesties everywhere, sexual assault rampant, and mental collapse lying in wait, every passing day is a trial for life or death, just what many sought to escape. The Greek government, in accordance with E.U. legislation, must pull itself together for the sake of the many people for whom hope is fading to little more than a distant, mocking memory.