Mauritius : The Land of the Lost Generation?

5 avril 2025 18:42

Intéressante analyse de l’auteur qui fait naître avec sa plume une belle symphonie qui contraste, douloureusement, avec les dissonances d’une situation qui étouffe. Il la décrit ici avec justesse et poésie. Vous pouvez retrouver ses écrits ici : https://chetangukhool21.medium.com/.

November 2024 marked a transformative moment. The people expressed their voices, not in hushed tones, but in a resounding roar, dismantling an empire built on deceit with their votes. It represented the collective sigh of a nation yearning for justice, weary of scandals and tired of witnessing their homeland being sold to the highest bidder. What did we envision? A Mauritius that is revitalized, rejuvenated, and guided toward an era defined by integrity.

Five months later, what do we observe? The faces may have changed, but the theatre remains unchanged. The banners have been exchanged, the chairs rearranged, yet the actors? They are the same performers who graced this stage a decade ago, albeit with different scripts and more refined justifications. Those who once pledged loyalty to a previous regime now find comfort in new corridors of power, their tongues skilfully woven into sophisticated hymns of allegiance once again. The sycophants of yesterday are now the bureaucrats of today, and the lost cause of the past has conveniently morphed into the “priority” of the present.

What a remarkable twist of fate!

We were not expecting miracles. We are not naïve. We understood that rebuilding a house ravaged by corruption would take time. However, we were promised bricks, not illusions. And yet, here we are, watching the cracks widen and the roof leak while those in power persist in promising to “study the situation.”

As the shadows of drugs continue to encroach upon our streets, the authorities that once vowed to “eradicate” this issue now merely “monitor” it. Our youth, already disillusioned, watch helplessly as their aspirations dissipate into a haze of synthetic poison. Some have received scholarships, while others are handed syringes or even more lethal substances. Yet, no one dares to ask: Why does a nation of barely 1.2 million struggle to combat this epidemic? Our leaders lack the will and the energy to take meaningful action, particularly those entrenched figures who cling to power and profit from the status quo. The lost generation has entered their 30s; it’s time to change in tune because we are all too familiar with these tired dance moves.

Economically, the situation grows more precarious by the day. The rupee declines, prices surge, and while the elite indulge in imported wines, the average citizen meticulously counts their cents. “We are working on solutions”, they assure us, enjoying espressos brewed from imported machines in their air-conditioned offices, drawing salaries that could comfortably sustain a family for months. So, while lots of them have been MPs or Ministers only on social media or during official events, and almost invisible in treating the symptoms as they themselves once claimed. No, we did not vote for you; rather we voted against them. It does not take a genius to know that! Meanwhile, the populace is presented with a singular solution: to tighten their belts despite having little left to hold up.

Then there’s the grand hallmark of nepotism; the enduring tradition transcending all political affiliations. “Meritocracy,” they proclaimed. Yet what we received instead was a familiar formula: insert family, reward loyalty, and preserve the dynasty. The more things seemingly change, the more they remain constant. Nepotism has morphed from a scandal into an institution. A degree in "Right Connections" often promises more tremendous success than one in Finance or IT.

Here, we find ourselves: a lost generation. Not because we lack talent but rather because of a scarcity of opportunities. We are not short on ambition; we are deprived of fair chances. Many of our brightest minds have chosen to leave, opting for exile over mediocrity. Those who remain either struggle to thrive or master the art of silent compliance, waiting for the next generation of politicians to hand over their positions to their offspring.

Sociologists call this “anomie,” a state of normlessness in which the disconnect between societal aspirations and the means to achieve them is so profound that individuals lose faith in the system. To put it more simply, the game is rigged, so why bother to play?

Is there a silver lining? Perhaps, but it lies well concealed beneath the weight of unfulfilled promises. Beneath the burden of an entire generation struggling to breathe, yearning for something real, something tangible. Today, hope resembles our national emblem: the dodo. Celebrated in history books and found on every passport, yet extinct in reality. We are a maritime nation importing Rs 12.4 billion of fish, while our 2.4 million km² Exclusive Economic Zone remains an unexplored enigma, much like the promises of a brighter future.

Hope is not gone; instead, it waddles awkwardly, flightless and forgotten, a relic of what might have been. Until then, we find ourselves exactly where we began, caught in limbo, champions of a lost cause in a land of broken dreams.

PAR CHETAN GUKHOOL