African Mauritius: Our Struggle for Recognition and Reparations

In Mauritius, a small island in the Indian Ocean, an African nation often celebrated for its multicultural harmony and economic success, a quieter and more troubling story persists beneath the surface. Despite centuries of labor to develop the land which was originally uninhabited by human beings, the position of African people in the postcolonial state of Mauritius remains deeply contested. Their exploitation and subjugation, while not always visible through formal indicators, is consistently reproduced through institutional practices, social hierarchies, and political arrangements that continue to place descendants of Africans as the least beneficiaries from political and economic advances on the island. 

Postcolonial Expectations and Disillusionment

Creoles, African descendants, have always been central to the development of the Mauritian economy and society. Mauritius was first colonized by the Dutch in 1598 who brought with them in 1638 enslaved Africans to exploit primarily over very old, thousand-year-old, precious ebony trees. Enslaved Africans resisted and drove the Dutch away from the island by 1710 and enjoyed five years of freedom from enslavement, exploitation, and racialized subjugation. But this was short-lived when the people were re-colonized by the French, and later the British. When slavery was abolished in the British empire in 1835, the British, in order to avoid any problem with the French colonists, who negotiated with them to keep their language and properties, i.e, houses, land, mills, slaves and other businesses, imported Indian indentured laborers up to the 1840s in an effort to replace the newly freed Africans as a labor force. The colonial system marginalized the African population through language barriers and economic and social subjugation. Conversely, the Indian community grew to become the demographic majority and a dominant political force that organized and took state power at constitutional independence from British colonial domination in 1968.

At the moment of independence, much of the African-origin population believed that political sovereignty would usher in substantive equality. We anticipated recognition as full members of the nation, with equitable access to economic opportunities and political participation. However, rather than dismantling colonial hierarchies, independence appears to have entrenched them. The socio-economic order where the Creole population continues to occupy a structurally subordinate position persists, largely associated with manual labor and lower-income sectors. While individual mobility is possible, it remains constrained by systemic factors that shape outcomes across generations. This condition reflects a broader pattern observable in many postcolonial societies where formal political independence did not translate into substantive social transformation.

No Name, No Recognition

The Mauritius state does not officially name or recognize the African population in the national census. Instead, it retains the colonial legacy of placing Afro-Mauritians in the category called “general population,” grouping us together with other numerical minorities, including Franco-Mauritians, the colonial oppressors and enslavers who continue to hold enormous economic power. This classification is an aberration. It effectively erases the distinct historical and cultural experiences of Creole communities, not only structurally cutting off the population from knowing and valuing their history but also making it difficult to articulate grievances or demand targeted policies. We all know who we are. People call us Creole in everyday life. But on paper, we do not exist as a people.

Furthermore, African identity is often deployed in strategic and contradictory ways. When representing the country abroad—particularly in African or global forums—state actors and elites frequently invoke an African identity. This positioning provides access to political, economic, and symbolic capital associated with the continent. However, within the domestic context, these same actors often abandon any Pan-African sensibilities and instead emphasize ethnic or cultural distinctions, such as Hindu, Sino-Mauritian, Franco-Mauritian, distancing themselves from Africanity. This dual positioning produces a form of representational asymmetry: Africanity is mobilized externally for strategic purposes but is not equally affirmed internally, particularly in relation to the Creole population who embody that identity most directly.

The Nature of Structural Oppression

Racial disparities persist in such areas as employment, educational access, and representation in institutions. In the public sector, for example, very few Afro-Mauritians hold leadership roles, and if they do, it is often symbolic as they are not decision-makers. While Mauritius has diversified its economy beyond sugar into tourism, textiles and financial services, access to opportunities remains uneven. Creole workers are often concentrated in lower-paying sectors. At the same time, skilled individuals frequently leave the island in search of better opportunities abroad. Creole children can become successful internationally, but they will still face barriers at home, including finding employment despite having earned advanced education. Labor policies continue to prioritize workers from Asia over regional African workers, raising questions about the country’s economic and cultural alignment.

Education is another site where disparities emerge early. Creole children often experience marginalization from the start of their schooling. In classrooms, they are placed at the back. They are less visible to teachers, and over time, this affects their confidence and performance. In some sectors the marginalization of Creoles has become more acute. For example, there has even been a dramatic demographic shift in the teaching profession. Before independence, most teachers were Creoles. Today, the vast majority are not. Reflecting the broader systemic inequalities, Creole people remain a disproportionate number of the incarcerated population in the prison system. These forms of inequality are embedded within the normal functioning of institutions rather than expressed through overt policy. Thus, discrimination is widely experienced yet, in a society that claims to be multicultural, it is not acknowledged institutionally.

The Absence of Data and Political Representation

It is because of these entrenched disparities that the Mauritius state has refused to collect updated demographic data. The last official population census was conducted in 1972. Since then, no official figures have been released to reflect changes in population composition. This makes it impossible to demonstrate the growth, needs, or systemic oppression of the African population. Without data, how do you advocate for policy change? This makes absence intentional and instead reflects a reluctance to acknowledge shifting demographics that could challenge existing power structures.

Today, Mauritius operates as a parliamentary democracy with regular elections. However, the political landscape in Mauritius is characterized by communal fragmentation, with multiple parties representing different ethnic or religious constituencies. The electoral system and ethnic voting patterns, combined with demographic realities, limit the political influence of the Afro-Mauritians, who are minoritized, versus the Hindus, who are the numerical majority and politically dominant group. Parliamentary representation reflects this imbalance. Out of roughly 70 members, only a small fraction is African—and even fewer hold positions of real power. Many of those Africans who are elected rely on votes from majority communities, so their ability to advocate independently is constrained. In this context, the absence of a unified Creole political formation is particularly significant. While other groups are able to consolidate or strategically distribute their electoral influence, the Creole vote remains dispersed.

The prospect of political transformation, therefore, depends on the ability to overcome this fragmentation. A unified electoral bloc could alter the balance of power within the system. However, attempts to organize along these lines are frequently delegitimized, framed as divisive or communalist. In fact, despite Mauritius’ reputation as a stable democracy, there are deep concerns about limitations on freedom of expression, particularly for Afro-Mauritian activists. In recent years, people who have spoken out against the government were harassed, arrested, or silenced. This creates additional obstacles to political organizing. 

What is to be done? Grassroots Organizing and Transnational Alliances

Afro-Mauritians are organizing to resist these interlocking oppressions. Our organization, Le Kolektif Reparasyon Avansman Kreol (KRAK; Collective for Reparations and Advancement for Creoles), established in 2024 is devoted to primarily raising awareness and political education. We organize seminars, press conferences, and community discussions aimed at educating people about their condition. We have also expanded into digital media through the creation of an online radio platform - a Creole web radio called KRAK Radio to raise visibility of the African community, and to share our struggles and initiatives. This initiative allows us to reach both local and global audiences, contributing to the gradual formation of a shared political consciousness.

However, awareness alone is insufficient without corresponding organizational structures and independent institutional spaces that enable collective actions. At present, community activities often rely on rented facilities controlled by other groups, reinforcing economic dependency and limiting autonomy. We are seeking to establish a dedicated “Creole House” or community center, not just for symbolic pride, but also because it would provide a material foundation for organizing housing and educational programs, cultural activities, and political meetings. Such infrastructure is essential for transforming, diffusing awareness into sustained collective engagement that can build political power. It creates a locus around which identity, solidarity, and strategy can coalesce. This process of consciousness formation is gradual but critical. It lays the groundwork for future collective actions, whether in the form of political organizations, economical initiatives, or cultural movements, bearing in mind that the creoles do not exist constitutionally. 

In addition, there is a need for building a grassroots Pan-African solidarity and transnational alliances. Alliance des Descendants Africain de Maurice (ADAM) and Association Vérité et Justice (AVG) have made a recent visit to Ghana and Zambia to deposit testimonies at the Human Rights Commission about our conditions and lived experiences as from 1968 to now. We have also presented our case at the United Nations in New York two times by barrister José Moirt, on behalf of Affirmative Action. The above organisations with ANSAM SITWAYIN, running throughout the country and Mouvman Zistis ek Verite advocating in Roche Bois (MZV) in a suburb of our capital city of Port-Louis, also form parts of KRAK. Mr. Moirt was also in London last November, to meet with different personalities and present our grievances to the All Parliamentary Party Group (APPG) on Reparations towards African Descendants. Furthermore, comparative experiences across the Caribbean, Africa, and the diaspora suggest that cultural production—language, music, media—can serve as a powerful tool for consciousness-building and resistance. The Mauritian Creole language, spoken by over 90% of the population, shares linguistic and historical connections with other Creole languages, including Haitian Creole. These similarities point to a broader shared history rooted in African history, slavery, colonialism, plantation economies, and the struggles to overcome them. Despite these commonalities, sustained transnational alliances between Creole or African-descended populations remain underdeveloped in our context, again in part due to the limited organizational capacity within Mauritius itself. Nevertheless, the potential for such alliances is significant. These efforts must be sustained over time and supported by both local and international networks.

Conclusion: Lived Reality and the Question of Hope

The conditions I have described are not unique to Mauritius. Similar patterns of structural marginalization affecting African heritage populations can be observed globally, linked to the enduring legacies of slavery and colonialism. In our case, the particular configuration of these dynamics and their manifest inequalities are both intimate and difficult to contest. Yet, despite these constraints, I maintain a cautious sense of hope for the possibility of collective awareness and action. The path forward involves several interconnected steps: expanding platforms for political education and communication, building material and institutional infrastructure, fostering real Pan-African unity and unity across fragmented communities, and developing a coherent political agenda. As more individuals come to understand their position and power, the potential for transformation increases. Until then, our work to imagine and create a different future for Africans in Mauritius continues.

Tony Evenor writes from Mauritius. He is a founder of Alliance des Descendants Africain de Maurice (ADAM) and Le Kolektif Reparasyon Avansman Kreol (KRAK; Collective for Reparations and Advancement for Creoles).