Madagascar’s Youth Rise Against Power Cuts and Government Inaction: A Call for Change
Antananarivo, Madagascar – On a seemingly ordinary Sunday morning in Mahamasina, a suburb of Madagascar’s capital, Antananarivo, Sarobidy Ramarimanana found herself in a chaotic scene. Just after sunrise, she joined a line at her local water point, hoping to fill her jerrycan before heading to church. However, the tranquility was shattered by the sound of police sirens, triggering panic among the crowd. “People started running, jerrycans were everywhere,” she recounted, reflecting on the fear that has gripped her community amid ongoing protests against the government.
Ramarimanana, a 22-year-old student, returned home shaken but fueled by anger over the persistent power and water shortages that have plagued Madagascar for years. “I was frustrated by the government’s failure to improve our basic services,” she said. Instead of attending church, she joined a protest march in nearby Independence Square, holding a yellow jerrycan and a small tin-can lamp-symbols of resistance for the youth.
The Spark of Protest
Since September 25, the “Gen Z Madagascar” youth movement has mobilized hundreds of protesters in Antananarivo, initially ignited by frustrations over water and power outages. What began as a demand for basic services quickly escalated into broader calls for President Andry Rajoelina to resign. Demonstrators have blocked roads with burning tires and rocks, while police have responded with rubber bullets and tear gas. According to the United Nations, at least 22 people have died, and many more have been injured in the unrest.
In an attempt to quell the discontent, Rajoelina dissolved his government last month and promised to appoint a new prime minister. However, the choice of a military general for the position sparked further outrage among the youth, who viewed it as a mere reshuffling of the same political elite.
A Day of Hope and Despair
On the day of the protests, Jose Raharimino, a 31-year-old freelance photographer, decided to document the unfolding events. Initially intending to remain a bystander, he felt compelled to join the crowd as chants filled the air. “It felt like we were together in our desperation,” he said, capturing the spirit of unity among the protesters. However, that sense of hope quickly dissipated when police deployed tear gas, transforming the atmosphere from one of solidarity to chaos.
Raharimino recalled the fear he felt during the protests of 2009, which ultimately led to Rajoelina’s rise to power through a military coup. “It felt like history was repeating itself,” he said, as the military unit CAPSAT, once loyal to Rajoelina, declared its support for the protesters.
A Shift in Power Dynamics
As the protests intensified, Rajoelina fled to an undisclosed location, and by Tuesday, parliament voted to impeach him for desertion of duty. The military has since taken control, forming a transitional committee with promises to restore civilian rule. While some citizens celebrated this shift, others expressed concern over the potential for history to repeat itself.
Henintsoa Andriniaina, a 24-year-old entrepreneur, articulated the frustrations of many young people. “We’ve been stuck with the same problems for too long-corruption, poverty, and no real change,” he said. His sign at the protest read, “Rajoelina out! We need a new system.” Andriniaina emphasized the need for structural reform, advocating for a system that prioritizes transparency and accountability.
The Quest for Dignity
As the protests unfolded, the voices of ordinary citizens echoed through the streets. Bako, a 56-year-old street cleaner, watched from a distance, recalling the protests of 2009 when her husband never returned home after joining the demonstrations. “Now, it’s the children of those who shouted before. And they’re crying again,” she lamented, highlighting the generational struggle for dignity and basic rights.
Raharimino, despite the chaos, remained committed to documenting the truth. “If we can’t speak, record, or show what’s happening, nothing will change,” he asserted. The right to live with dignity, he argued, is not a political issue but a fundamental human right.
Looking Ahead: Uncertain Futures
As the dust settles on the recent upheaval, the future of Madagascar remains uncertain. Experts warn that the youth movement, while powerful, may face challenges in navigating the political landscape. Luke Freeman, a Madagascar expert at University College London, noted that the Gen Z protesters will need to establish leadership roles to effectively engage in political negotiations.
For Ramarimanana and her peers, the fight for basic services is far from over. “We can’t dream of democracy if we can’t drink clean water,” she stated, emphasizing that true change begins with meeting the fundamental needs of the people.
As the streets of Antananarivo continue to bear the marks of both defiance and despair, the question remains: will the military’s takeover lead to meaningful change, or will it simply perpetuate the cycle of disillusionment? For many, the hope for a better future hinges on the ability to transform not just the faces in power, but the very systems that govern their lives.
In the end, Ramarimanana’s empty jerrycan serves as a poignant reminder of the struggle for dignity and the urgent need for change in Madagascar. “We didn’t want power. We wanted water. We wanted light,” she concluded, her voice a blend of hope and skepticism. “Maybe now, they’ll listen. Or maybe they’ll just forget us again.”
