acss-digest

One hundred and sixty-eight young Africans. In three days, in Bissau alone. They were packed into a house on the northern outskirts or crammed into a pirogue intercepted at the Bandim fishing wharf, ready to head out to sea for the Canary Islands. These are not statistics. They are sons and daughters of our countries, Senegalese, Malians, Guineans, Gambians, and even Bissau-Guineans, who decided that death at sea was preferable to the future being offered to them at home.
Let us ask ourselves what a country owes its youth. A school that teaches, a hospital that heals, a job that feeds a family, and a state that does not steal its children's hope. When an entire generation would rather face the ocean than stay, those promises have been betrayed. The problem is not the youth. The problem is those who govern.
The facts are clear. According to information relayed by AFP, the National Guard of Guinea-Bissau carried out two separate operations in the capital. On Saturday, a pirogue carrying 143 would-be departees, 141 Senegalese and two Gambians, was intercepted at the Bandim wharf. On Monday morning, 25 young people, including ten Malians, ten Senegalese, three Guineans and two Bissau-Guineans, were arrested in a house on the northern outskirts. Their intermediate destination was an island in the Bijagós archipelago, a staging point before embarking for the Spanish archipelago of the Canary Islands. A total of 168 arrests in three days is no trivial number. It is the sign of a well-organized network, with its gathering points, its relays and its boats.
We must also look at what this figure tells us about the migration route itself. According to the Spanish NGO Caminando Fronteras, more than 10,000 people reportedly died in 2024 on the Atlantic route to the Canary Islands. Ten thousand families waiting for a call that will never come. Ten thousand mothers who will never know where their child lies. An officer of the National Guard explained that the pressure exerted on the networks in Senegal is now pushing organizers toward The Gambia and Guinea-Bissau, less-watched ports. In other words, the traffickers adapt, move their pieces and search for the gap. Meanwhile, who is asking why so many young people are willing to leave at any cost?
Let us not be naïve. These networks thrive because they have desperate clients and well-placed accomplices. A pirogue does not leave a Bissau wharf without someone having looked the other way, pocketed a commission or signed a paper. We do not pretend to know every branch of this network here. But we know one thing: as long as justice does not prosecute the accomplices, whether smugglers or civil servants, arrests will remain bandages on an open wound. And we know that Guinea-Bissau is not a country short of human resources or potential. It is short of good governance.
Let us look at history. Since its independence in 1974, Guinea-Bissau has endured repeated coups, political assassinations and cycles of institutional paralysis. This country ranks among the poorest on the planet, even though it has fish-rich coastlines, fertile land and a natural heritage that should feed its population. Each time an elite seizes the state to serve its own interests, it is the youth who pay the price. They remain without work, without prospects, and end up seeing clandestine exile as the only way out.
And Senegal, held up as a democratic model on the continent, is not spared. In 2024 the country achieved a peaceful transfer of power, an example all of West Africa should applaud. Yet thousands of young Senegalese continue to take to the sea. This tells us an uncomfortable truth: a successful election is not enough. Democracy must produce jobs, dignity and reliable public services. Without these, it remains a ritual emptied of meaning for those who are hungry.
So what is to be done? Our states' response must begin with rigor. The National Guard is doing its job by intercepting vessels, and that is good. But repression alone will never make poverty disappear. A complete strategy is needed. First, an independent judicial investigation into the departure networks, with prosecutions against smugglers and against any public official who is complicit. Second, transparent oversight of fishing licenses and ports, because a maritime economy governed by clear rules attracts honest investors and creates legitimate jobs. Finally, Guinea-Bissau and its neighbors must genuinely implement the ECOWAS protocol on free movement, so that mobility happens through legal channels and not through the sea.
The continent also has its proof. Mauritius built its prosperity on the rule of law, budgetary stability and an open economy. Botswana has shown that serious management of resources, coupled with credible institutions, can transform a poor country into an upper-middle-income economy. These are not perfect models, but they are proof that a better path exists. What is missing is not know-how. What is missing is the political will to turn our backs on predation.
And we, as citizens, what must we demand? That every arrest be followed by a trial, and that every trial go all the way through, whatever the name of the accused. That youth employment budgets be published, audited and evaluated. That civil society, the media and local entrepreneurs have the means to work without fear. That our deputies and ministers tell us, with figures to back it up, how many young people left this year and why.
For every young person arrested on a Bissau wharf, there are ten more waiting their turn. We can no longer accept that our children be the bargaining chips of regimes that prefer privilege to development. Demand accountability. Demand independent institutions. Vote for those who promise jobs and keep their word. Because the true border we must cross is not the one at sea. It is the one that separates a state that protects its citizens from a state that abandons them.
Based on reporting by ACSS-EMAIL