Editor’s Note
This article examines the paradox of Madagascar’s sapphire wealth amid deep national poverty. While global demand fuels a lucrative gemstone trade, the reality for local communities often remains one of exploitation and environmental degradation, raising critical questions about resource governance and equitable development.
Madagascar is the fifth poorest country in the world, yet it possesses nearly 40% of the global production of one of the most coveted gemstones: sapphire. Several deposits discovered in 1998 in the south of the country continue to attract miners and buyers. These stones are currently highly valued by investors as a “safe haven,” and the emergence of the Chinese and Indian middle classes has caused prices to skyrocket.
Today, the mines in the south of the island are characterized by outdated working conditions and proven cases of child labor, while violent crime wreaks havoc in the region. French journalists Lola Fourmy and Martin Huré take us to the heart of an economic emancipation dream that for many Malagasy has turned into a nightmare.
The sign at the entrance to the town of Ilakaka says it all. It owes its exponential growth to sapphire mining, and is proud of it.
To reach the desert region of Ilakaka, in the south of the island, from the capital, Antananarivo, one must plan for more than half a day in a shared taxi. “Welcome to Ilakaka. Enjoy our sapphires,” announces a sign at the city entrance. Here, sapphire is the only attraction. Just 30 years ago, there was nothing but arid land and local fauna.
The city was born in 1998, months after the fortuitous discovery of several sapphire deposits. It now has more than 30,000 inhabitants, many of whom came to participate in the sapphire rush.
Mohammed Kone is one of the pioneers of the market. This Guinean businessman, who arrived in 1999, manages the mines and exhibition hall for a Swiss entrepreneur. He lives in a luxurious villa right behind the Color Lines store, the company he works for.
After 25 years of exploitation, the 250 km long and 50 km wide vein is being depleted, but it continues to attract poor populations dreaming of extreme wealth despite having to put their lives in danger.
Every morning at dawn, an impressive procession travels the streets of Ilakaka: men with hooded sweatshirts on their heads and pickaxes in hand make their way through the adjacent streets to reach the mines. The operations are divided according to their owners. At Color Lines, six men are working that day.
From a 15-meter-deep hole, they extract small bags of earth that will be sifted in the reservoir to find the precious stones. They are paid 10,000 ariarys (the equivalent of 2 euros) per workday. They must return everything extracted to the company, and “woe to those who hide the sapphires they find in their mouth,” explains a miner.
When asked about how dangerous the working conditions can be, Kone evades safety problems:
Several kilometers away, dozens of families work in artisanal wells, devoid of minimal safety considerations. Each family exploits its own well, so the lands around the village of Antsohamadiro look like a real Gruyère cheese.
As every morning, Alex crosses the valley with his father Jacques, his mother Vosi, and his wife Cela, barely 15 years old. Together, the family works around a 12-meter-deep hole. The father, fragile and thin, slides down the shaft and can spend more than two hours inside. His voice rises to the outside like a faint thread, denoting the lack of air that must be at the bottom.
Outside, the women sift the earth dreaming of finding the stone that will change their lives. Cela left school after getting married.
In the region, marriages of girls under 18 are common, although this practice is legally prohibited in the country and violates human rights. In cities, girls are encouraged to go to school, but in the countryside, where customs are more entrenched, families still consider them a source of income.
Alex states that they have no choice but to be miners, due to the poverty caused mainly by drought, and that although some days they find nothing, others they achieve a lot.
which is equivalent to about 200 euros, that is, nearly half the annual salary in Madagascar.
