On Saturday, October 4, 2025, Madagascar’s capital of Antananarivo found itself at the epicenter of a political storm, as rival rallies from both backers and opponents of President Andry Rajoelina’s embattled government swept through the city. The dramatic scenes followed days of deadly, youth-led protests that have left at least 22 people dead and hundreds injured, according to United Nations figures—numbers the government insists are fueled by rumor and misinformation.
The protests, ignited by public fury over chronic water and electricity shortages, have been spearheaded by a new force in Madagascar’s political landscape: Gen Z Mada, an online youth movement inspired by similar uprisings in Bangladesh, Nepal, and Indonesia. Their demands are clear and uncompromising—President Rajoelina must step down, and the voices of Madagascar’s youth must be heard in the appointment of a new premier. The group has also called for an urgent investigation into the police response to the demonstrations, giving the president a 24-hour ultimatum to respond favorably to their demands, vowing to take “all necessary measures” if ignored.
The city braced itself for possible clashes as government supporters gathered at the Coliseum, a Roman-inspired amphitheater that Rajoelina himself inaugurated after first seizing power in 2009. Just a few miles away, anti-government protesters attempted to converge on central Antananarivo but were met with a formidable police presence, armored vehicles, and roadblocks—especially in the Ambondrona neighborhood. “It’s the shortest route to Ambohijatovo,” explained 18-year-old student Ilan Randrianarison, his straw hat now a symbol of defiance. “Given the massacres, the protesters are getting angrier and angrier. We’re here for our comrades,” he told AFP, echoing the raw emotion coursing through the crowd.
Meanwhile, in the northern city of Antsiranana, hundreds of students marched through the streets, waving placards and even carrying a mock coffin draped in orange and emblazoned with the president’s image. The symbolism was unmistakable: a generation fed up with what they see as an out-of-touch leadership and a broken system.
President Rajoelina, who turned 51 this year and once served as mayor of Antananarivo, has so far refused to step down. On Saturday, he shared footage of a meeting with trade unions and reiterated his willingness to “listen and find solutions” to the island nation’s deep-rooted problems. Yet, his overtures have been flatly rejected by Gen Z Mada and a coalition of more than 20 civic organizations. In a stinging joint statement, they accused Rajoelina of being “completely out of touch with the gravity of the situation our country is facing,” adding, “You claim to invite dialogue, yet your words stigmatize precisely those you claim to be listening to.”
The roots of the unrest run deep. Despite its bountiful natural resources, Madagascar remains one of the world’s poorest countries. Nearly three-quarters of its 32 million citizens lived below the poverty line in 2022, according to the World Bank. Corruption is rampant, with the nation ranking 140th out of 180 countries on Transparency International’s index. Public frustration has been simmering for years, but the latest wave of protests—sparked by the seemingly endless water and power cuts—has brought matters to a boiling point. The current crisis marks the most significant challenge to Rajoelina’s rule since his contentious re-election in 2023.
But Madagascar is far from alone. Across the globe, a new generation is rising up, unified by their disillusionment with aging political elites, corruption, and economic systems that have left them behind. As reported by Bloomberg, thousands of young people have taken to the streets in countries as diverse as Indonesia, Kenya, Mongolia, Nepal, and Bangladesh over the past year, mobilized by social media and fueled by a shared sense of injustice. In Morocco, where youth unemployment has soared to a staggering 60 percent, protests erupted in the commuter town of Sale, just across the river from the capital Rabat’s gleaming new developments. There, young demonstrators vandalized banks and clashed with police, decrying not just economic hardship but the government’s lavish spending on projects like the 2030 World Cup and Africa’s biggest ice hockey rink. Three people died and more than 1,000 were detained in Morocco’s worst unrest since the Arab Spring.
The pattern is strikingly similar elsewhere. In Nepal last month, protests against corruption and nepotism—sparked by a government ban on social media—quickly escalated into the country’s worst political crisis in years. The homes of wealthy, well-connected families were torched, and by the time the dust settled, more than 70 people were dead and hundreds injured. The fallout forced the prime minister and several top officials to resign. In Indonesia, a government handout for lawmakers lit the fuse for broader demonstrations against corruption, while in Kenya, mass youth protests last year led President William Ruto to fire his cabinet and withdraw a controversial tax bill. Bangladesh’s own Gen Z movement culminated in the ouster of longtime leader Sheikh Hasina in 2024.
What unites these movements, according to Bilal Bassiouni of Pangea-Risk, is “the convergence of conditions across very different political environments. Young people are confronting rising costs of living and weak job creation at the same time as political authority is concentrated in aging elites with little space for renewal.” Michael Kugelman, a non-resident fellow at the Asia Pacific Foundation, adds, “Governments have sought to manage this public anger in the past by ignoring, appeasing, or repressing. But that approach is no longer working.”
Back in Madagascar, the Council of Christian Churches, led by Archbishop Jean de Dieu Raoelison, has offered to mediate between the government and demonstrators—a sign that civil society is scrambling to prevent further bloodshed. Yet, as the 24-hour deadline set by Gen Z Mada ticks down, the island nation’s future hangs in the balance. Rajoelina’s decision to sack his government on September 29, 2025, has done little to placate the anger on the streets, and the heavy-handed police response has only hardened the resolve of protesters.
For many, the current unrest is not just about utility shortages or even the president himself—it’s about a generation’s demand to be heard, to have a stake in their country’s future, and to see real change in a system many feel is rigged against them. As the world watches, Madagascar’s youth have made it clear: they are no longer content to wait in the wings.