‘We no longer wanted to just survive; we wanted to build a fair future’
CIVICUS speaks about Generation Z-led protests in Madagascar with six members of the Youth Empowerment Madagascar association: Hanson Andriamahazo, Heritoky Mahasedra, Elie Rakotoarimanana, Jessica Rakotoarison, Daniellà Ramanambohitra and Roméo Tovonantenaina.
On 25 September, Gen Z-led protests demanding the resignation of President Andry Rajoelina erupted across Madagascar. What began as protests against chronic electricity and water shortages turned into a broader challenge to corruption, inequality and poor governance. Security forces responded with teargas and live ammunition, killing at least 22 people and injuring over 100. Parliament removed Rajoelina from office and the army seized power, with Colonel Michael Randrianirina sworn in as president on 17 October. In response, the African Union has suspended Madagascar’s membership.
How did the protests start?
It all started with electricity and water cuts that made our daily lives almost impossible. In some neighbourhoods, people have to get up at midnight to collect water, as there is none available during the day. Electricity goes out for hours at a time, sometimes for up to 20 hours. Without power, small businesses close, students can no longer study and families spend their nights in the dark. This has been going on for years, but in recent months the situation became unbearable.
The turning point came when three city councillors took to the streets with yellow jerry cans to symbolise our thirst and anger. Their gesture inspired us. Many of us decided to follow their example, initially to demand electricity and water, and then to denounce all that’s wrong with our country. The real problem is not just lack of resources but injustice.
While most people struggle every day to feed themselves, we see our leaders living in luxury. We pay our bills and taxes, yet nothing changes. So we said, ‘that’s enough’. Thanks to social media, our anger spread far and wide. Thousands of young people created pages and mobilised, and what started as a simple local protest became a national movement.
We didn’t start this movement for the sake of protest; we started it because we had no choice. It was a question of dignity and survival.
What were the movement’s demands?
First, we demanded Rajoelina’s resignation and an end to a regime that made excuses instead of taking responsibility. We wanted an honest and transparent government that truly serves the people. We demanded profound reforms to put an end to corruption, social injustice and outdated laws that always favoured the same people.
Beyond politics, what we wanted was dignity. We wanted to live in a country where our efforts matter, where young people could find work without paying for it and where expressing ourselves on social media would not land us in prison. We wanted to be listened to, to be considered full participants in national decision-making, not a generation to be ignored.
In short, we didn’t just want to survive; we wanted to participate, make decisions and build a fair future for all Madagascans.
Why are young people at the heart of this movement?
Because we are the ones most affected by this crisis and the most tired of waiting for something to change. We grew up in a country where injustice, poverty and unemployment have become the norm. Many of us studied for years, only to end up unemployed. Here, having skills is not enough: you have to pay, know someone or belong to an influential family. This corrupt and nepotistic system has stolen our future.
We are also witnessing the collapse of our schools and hospitals. During exams, electricity is often cut off, so we study by the light of our mobile phones. In hospitals, medical students work without equipment, recognition or support. The government has even cut the education budget when education should be the priority. All this proves that those who govern us are not thinking about our generation.
How did the authorities react to the protests?
From the outset, the government chose force over dialogue. We took to the streets peacefully, carrying placards and shouting slogans. We were unarmed, except for our voices. But the authorities responded with teargas and live ammunition. Many of our comrades were injured and some lost their lives. Dozens of protesters were arrested simply for demanding their rights.
Rather than listening to us, the authorities denied reality. They claimed everything was fine, that we were exaggerating and international organisations such as the United Nations were lying. On television, Rajoelina portrayed protesters as troublemakers. Meanwhile, state media broadcast fake images, and fake social media accounts threatened us directly in an attempt to silence us. Even online, fear took hold because simply expressing your opinion could get you arrested.
When anger grew and some soldiers decided to side with protesters, the government panicked. It spoke of a coup, when the simple truth was soldiers were tired of watching civilians die. That’s when everything changed: the gendarmerie, which until then had been a repressive force, apologised and promised not to fire on people again.
Faced with this situation, the government attempted to calm things down by announcing a national dialogue and pardoning a few political prisoners. But no one believed it, because it invited people who were paid to thank Rajoelina while others were excluded.
Repression has left a deep mark. We understand our freedom of expression is fragile. But despite the fear, we will continue to speak out. If we remain silent, nothing will change, and our silence will be worse than bullets.
What are the risks if the government doesn’t listen?
If it continues to ignore our voices, Madagascar risks sinking into deeper chaos. Anger is growing every day, and when people have nothing left to lose, they end up risking everything. Trust has already been broken. Without real change, Madagascar risks entering a cycle of mistrust and confrontation that could last for years.
We are already seeing the consequences: the economy is collapsing, small businesses are closing, young graduates are building their lives abroad and those who remain are just getting by. Poverty is increasing, injustice is taking root and corruption continues to destroy the country.
But the greatest danger is violence. If the authorities continue to respond with repression, there will be more deaths, more fear and more hatred.
What must be done to restore trust?
Trust will only return if the government ends repression, acknowledges its mistakes and commits to addressing injustices.
First, we are calling for reform of the political system, including new electoral laws and a constitution that guarantees transparency, justice and youth participation. We want competent, honest and educated leaders who understand the reality of people’s situations, rather than corrupt or imposed figures.
Second, we want a sincere national dialogue open to civil society, students, workers and young people, where everyone can speak freely. The priorities of this dialogue must be clear: restoring essential services, fighting corruption and rebuilding the economy. Every commitment made must be followed by tangible action and made public.
We demand that young people be recognised as a force for positive change. We no longer want to be mere spectators. We want to participate in developing public policies, monitoring administrative transparency and contributing to Madagascar’s reconstruction.
Finally, we want Madagascar to be respected as a sovereign nation. Our international relations must be based on equality, not dependence. We don’t want a state run from abroad, nor secret agreements.
If our leaders agree to govern with us instead of against us, trust will be restored.