Across Madagascar and Morocco, a new wave of youth-led protests is sweeping through city streets and digital spaces, marking what observers are calling a pivotal moment in global activism. Since late September 2025, the so-called Gen Z movement—driven by young people raised in the internet age—has mobilized thousands to demand better governance, social justice, and economic reform. The movement’s decentralized, tech-savvy approach is rewriting the rules of political engagement in the Global South, and its impact is reverberating far beyond these two nations.
In Madagascar, the spark was a chronic crisis: water and power shortages that have plagued the capital, Antananarivo, and other major cities. According to Amnesty International, hundreds of university and high school students began gathering peacefully on September 25, 2025, under the banner of Gen Z Madagascar. Their grievances quickly expanded to encompass deep-seated corruption and collapsing public services—issues that have long simmered beneath the surface of Malagasy society.
But what began as peaceful demonstrations soon turned tragic. As of October 2, at least 22 people, including children, had died and more than 100 had been injured, according to the United Nations and Amnesty International. Witnesses described scenes of chaos as security forces deployed tear gas and live ammunition. "We went out that day carrying flowers, placards, singing in a completely peaceful manner…so that our voice could be heard, on the way we suffered severe repression from the security forces without any valid reason," Fanilo, a 21-year-old medical student, told NPR. "At first, we were hit with tear gas and then suddenly we heard gunshots… we all realized they wanted to kill us. Several people died that day from gunshot wounds."
The government’s response drew swift condemnation from rights groups. Tigere Chagutah, Amnesty International’s Regional Director for East and Southern Africa, declared, "Every death on the streets of Madagascar is a painful reminder that the right to peaceful protest is under violent attack. The authorities must promptly launch thorough and effective investigations into these killings and hold perpetrators to account." Chagutah also criticized the use of an outdated 75-year-old law to justify the crackdown, calling for its repeal and replacement with legislation aligned with international human rights standards.
Despite the violence, the movement’s momentum only grew. Digital tools became the lifeblood of the protests, with organizers using Facebook, TikTok, and viral hashtags to coordinate marches and share updates. Their symbol—a cartoon skull with traditional Malagasy headwear, inspired by the Japanese anime One Piece—became ubiquitous at rallies and online. As Ketakandriana Rafitoson, a political scientist at the Université Catholique de Madagascar, explained to France 24, "This movement is unprecedented, above all, because of its profoundly horizontal, spontaneous and decentralized nature. Unlike past mobilizations led or co-opted by political parties, unions or charismatic figures, this one arose from organic collective outrage, mainly in digital spaces, and took shape without a single leader."
The protests’ decentralized style has made them harder to suppress—and more potent as a symbol of generational change. Young people, who make up two-thirds of Madagascar’s population according to UNICEF, have never before played such a visible role in political protest. Their demands are sweeping: not just for reliable utilities, but for a "liveable future" free from endemic corruption and inequality.
The government’s attempts at damage control have so far failed to quell the unrest. On October 1, President Andry Rajoelina dissolved his cabinet, stating on national television, "I heard the call, I felt the suffering." Yet demonstrators remain unsatisfied, with many now calling for his resignation. As one protester, who wished to remain anonymous, told NPR, "We've lost our most basic rights, corruption is everywhere, injustice is everywhere, public services are collapsing. In my house for instance we haven't had running water for six years, and yet we're still paying the bills."
The Gen Z movement in Madagascar did not arise in a vacuum. Protesters cite the influence of similar youth-led uprisings in Asia, particularly Nepal, where demonstrations toppled the government just weeks earlier. "What happened in Nepal gave the people of Madagascar hope that it was possible to overthrow the system, that young people could take control of their own destiny, and that the country's situation was not inevitable," a 26-year-old Malagasy woman told France 24.
This sense of global interconnectedness is a hallmark of the new wave of activism. Across Morocco, thousands of young people have taken to the streets since late September, using platforms like Discord to organize. Their demands echo those of their Malagasy counterparts: an end to corruption, better public services, and a fairer distribution of wealth. The protests in Morocco have been some of the largest in years, and, according to the interior ministry, have resulted in three deaths after clashes with police.
Shared grievances over wasteful government spending have galvanized both movements. In Madagascar, anger has focused on the expensive Antananarivo cable car project, while Moroccan protesters have decried the millions spent on stadium renovations for the Africa Cup of Nations and the 2030 World Cup—funds they argue should be invested in education and healthcare.
Observers see these movements as part of a broader reckoning. Mohamed Keita, an African affairs analyst, told NPR, "These protests are a reckoning for governments that have failed to perform their basic functions, delivering decent public services, things like water, electricity, or the struggles of those governments to meet the demands for jobs for millions of young people entering the labor market each year."
Indeed, the Gen Z protests in Madagascar and Morocco are just the latest in a global pattern. In recent months, youth-led demonstrations have rocked countries from Indonesia and the Philippines to Kenya and Togo. The common thread is a tech-savvy generation, disillusioned with traditional politics, demanding not just survival but a radical transformation of their societies. As Rafitoson put it to France 24, "Gen Z may not yet have a formalized political agenda. But it has already changed the terms of the debate with the idea that it is no longer a question of surviving in a failing system, but of radically transforming it."
The road ahead remains uncertain. The movements’ lack of formal leadership and clear political platforms could make them vulnerable to fragmentation or co-optation. Yet their creativity, resilience, and ability to harness digital tools have already forced governments to respond—and inspired hope among millions who have long felt voiceless.
As protests continue to unfold in Madagascar, Morocco, and beyond, one thing is clear: a generational shift is underway, and the world is watching as Gen Z rewrites the rules of civic engagement, one hashtag at a time.
