Razanasoa Edmondine still looks shell-shocked as she recalls the death of her one-month-old grandson, killed by police tear gas in protests that have rocked Madagascar over the last two weeks. It was just a normal Friday. My daughter-in-law was going to the market with the baby when they encountered demonstrators on the road, she tells the BBC at the family's home on the northern outskirts of the capital, Antananarivo. Not long after, police showed up and started dispersing the protest with tear gas.
It was the second day of youth-led protests, triggered by anger over persistent power and water shortages, and Ms Edmondine's daughter-in-law ran into a nearby building with other protesters to take cover. Police then fired more tear gas canisters into the building, quickly filling it with choking smoke. With the streets in chaos, they could not get to a hospital until the following day. By then, the damage had been done. The baby was trying to cry but no sound came out, says Ms Edmondine softly. It was like something was blocking his chest. The doctor told us he had inhaled too much smoke. A couple of days later, he passed away.
Her grandchild is one of at least 22 people the UN says were killed during clashes between police and demonstrators in the early days of the protests, which have since escalated into broader dissatisfaction over corruption, high unemployment, and the cost-of-living crisis in one of the world's poorest nations. The government of President Andry Rajoelina has dismissed this figure as misinformation but has not provided its own numbers.
However, it has emphasized that the value of property damage exceeds $47m (£35m). The first days of the protests were marked by widespread violence, with cars set on fire, shop windows smashed, and a two-month-old, multi-million-dollar cable car station vandalized. Rabe, who only gave the BBC his first name, has accused the police of firing live bullets at peaceful protesters - a few blocks away from where Ms Edmondine's daughter-in-law was hiding. He must have slipped outside to see what was going on. That's when the police shot him and continued chasing other protesters.
Responding to accusations of police brutality, earlier this week President Rajoelina said: There have been deaths, we completely agree. And I truly sympathize with the suffering and pain of the families who have lost loved ones. But I want to tell you that these deaths are not protesters, they are not students. They are rioters. They are the ones who looted.
The anger of the youth movement behind the demonstrations, known as Gen Z Mada, has grown with the protesters now calling for the president to step down. The evidence of young people's frustrations, whether it is unemployment, water scarcity, or struggling businesses, is not hard to find across Antananarivo. At the airport, for example, visitors with just a few bags are quickly surrounded by two or three young people eager to help in exchange for a small tip. Anyone leaving their car parked outside a cafe or restaurant will almost certainly be approached by a couple of young men asking for a fee after claiming they have guarded the vehicle.
Driving through the outskirts of Antananarivo, it is common to see families washing clothes in paddy fields, a visible reminder of the severe water shortages in people's homes. One of the main protest organizers, who requested anonymity for safety reasons, told the BBC he had to walk a mile each day to get water from a well – and he considers himself middle-class. To be a young person in Madagascar, you have to be tough, he adds, explaining that insecurity is rife. You live in constant fear of when your house will be broken into, when you will be shot by people, when you'll be stabbed on the streets. It's like your humanity has been stolen from you and taken away.
President Rajoelina has asked the Malagasy people to give him one year to fix the problems driving the protests, saying he will resign if he fails to meet the deadline. But Prof Ramiarison feels that the president does not understand the complexities of how Madagascar has become trapped in two vicious circles of poverty that feed into each other. The only way to break free from this cycle is to address its root causes, and the future of Madagascar hangs in the balance.
It was the second day of youth-led protests, triggered by anger over persistent power and water shortages, and Ms Edmondine's daughter-in-law ran into a nearby building with other protesters to take cover. Police then fired more tear gas canisters into the building, quickly filling it with choking smoke. With the streets in chaos, they could not get to a hospital until the following day. By then, the damage had been done. The baby was trying to cry but no sound came out, says Ms Edmondine softly. It was like something was blocking his chest. The doctor told us he had inhaled too much smoke. A couple of days later, he passed away.
Her grandchild is one of at least 22 people the UN says were killed during clashes between police and demonstrators in the early days of the protests, which have since escalated into broader dissatisfaction over corruption, high unemployment, and the cost-of-living crisis in one of the world's poorest nations. The government of President Andry Rajoelina has dismissed this figure as misinformation but has not provided its own numbers.
However, it has emphasized that the value of property damage exceeds $47m (£35m). The first days of the protests were marked by widespread violence, with cars set on fire, shop windows smashed, and a two-month-old, multi-million-dollar cable car station vandalized. Rabe, who only gave the BBC his first name, has accused the police of firing live bullets at peaceful protesters - a few blocks away from where Ms Edmondine's daughter-in-law was hiding. He must have slipped outside to see what was going on. That's when the police shot him and continued chasing other protesters.
Responding to accusations of police brutality, earlier this week President Rajoelina said: There have been deaths, we completely agree. And I truly sympathize with the suffering and pain of the families who have lost loved ones. But I want to tell you that these deaths are not protesters, they are not students. They are rioters. They are the ones who looted.
The anger of the youth movement behind the demonstrations, known as Gen Z Mada, has grown with the protesters now calling for the president to step down. The evidence of young people's frustrations, whether it is unemployment, water scarcity, or struggling businesses, is not hard to find across Antananarivo. At the airport, for example, visitors with just a few bags are quickly surrounded by two or three young people eager to help in exchange for a small tip. Anyone leaving their car parked outside a cafe or restaurant will almost certainly be approached by a couple of young men asking for a fee after claiming they have guarded the vehicle.
Driving through the outskirts of Antananarivo, it is common to see families washing clothes in paddy fields, a visible reminder of the severe water shortages in people's homes. One of the main protest organizers, who requested anonymity for safety reasons, told the BBC he had to walk a mile each day to get water from a well – and he considers himself middle-class. To be a young person in Madagascar, you have to be tough, he adds, explaining that insecurity is rife. You live in constant fear of when your house will be broken into, when you will be shot by people, when you'll be stabbed on the streets. It's like your humanity has been stolen from you and taken away.
President Rajoelina has asked the Malagasy people to give him one year to fix the problems driving the protests, saying he will resign if he fails to meet the deadline. But Prof Ramiarison feels that the president does not understand the complexities of how Madagascar has become trapped in two vicious circles of poverty that feed into each other. The only way to break free from this cycle is to address its root causes, and the future of Madagascar hangs in the balance.
