The Mauritian brain drain is a challenge as old as the nation itself… But does the fact that an issue has been entrenched for generations mean it should not be addressed, especially as it reaches unprecedented proportions?

During the Budget Breakfast on Saturday 8th June, Finance Minister Renganaden Padayachy made a series of comments regarding the “brain drain” in Mauritius, one of the most hard-hitting being the following: the Mauritians who choose to leave are not “une perte pour le pays”, for “personne n’est irremplaçable”. In this brief article, I attempt to engage with his points – some of which I agree with, and some of which I do not – as well as contribute to a greater débat d’idées around meritocracy, immigration and youth opportunities in the country today.

We know that the “brain drain” is as old as the nation itself. The time of Independence was one of unprecedented movement of talent away from our shores, and the story has been repeated every generation since. While the “brain drain” irrevocably tears the fabric of families apart, it also paradoxically acts as a connecting thread across the nation, for it is perhaps one of the rare experiences in common that every single Mauritian family will have, across differences of communauté and economic situation: every family has those who have left, those who dream of leaving, those who leave and return.

As the Minister underlines, a great number of us, at one point or another, are tempted to leave. This is not a bad thing – quite on the contrary. Mauritians who travel abroad for training, networking and experience are deeply enriched, and then use this enhanced potential to contribute to the country, whether they choose to physically come back or not. The issue, then, is not that young Mauritians leave. The issue is that many young Mauritians today, especially those without entrenched family wealth or connections, feel like they have no choice but to leave in order to get a decent job based on their merit and qualifications. Many young people do leave because of a perception that “the grass is greener on the other side,” as the Minister suggests. But it is equally true that many find themselves with no choice to leave after having been made to understand, in a variety of both subtle and not-so-subtle ways, that they are not “eligible” for a job, contract or opportunity because of their family surnames, political affiliations, and/or other aspects of their identity.

Just like the “brain drain” itself, this tendency to pigeonhole people into neat boxes is by no means new. And yet, that does not mean they should be taken for granted, especially not when they seem to be on the rise. As Ashok Subron mentions in a response video to Minister Padyachy’s comments, the brain drain has reached levels of a “exode le plus massif ki Moris inn kone depi peryod lindepandans” – a key difference being that this time, “bokou plis dimounn o ba de lesel” are affected. The reasons for this acceleration are complex: for example, technology means that it is increasingly easy to find and apply for opportunities abroad. Unfortunately, going by the Minister’s words, obtaining the data that would allow us to examine the intricacies of this phenomenon is not a priority: “Nou pann gagn letan pou al travay lor konbien pe kite konbien pe vini.” And yet, despite the lack of official statistics, the reality around us is inescapable, from the hotels that are losing highly skilled personnel to cruise ships, to the financial sector that is losing its talent to hubs like Luxembourg.

The “brain drain” is one of those rare issues that is not about a single government, a single communauté, a single social class or a single generation. It is a challenge that has faced our nation since its birth, and we certainly cannot blame a single government for it, or expect it to be resolved within months or years. But does the fact that an issue has been entrenched for generations mean it should not be addressed? Is it too much to ask from the government we have elected to defend our interests, that they recognize the “brain drain” for the crucial issue that it is (and gather the statistics that will eventually inform public policy)? For many of us, it hurts to hear that those who leave are not “une perte pour le pays”, for “personne n’est irremplaçable”. Such a statement, while insensitive, is indeed true in the grand scheme of things: our country’s progress is greater than any single individual. And yet, a radically different perspective is also possible: one could argue that very young Mauritian has something unique to offer to the country. And in that case, shouldn’t every young Mauritian be supported if they choose to come back and contribute? Similarly, one could question the binaristic logic that undergirds the statement “nou priyorite, se bann morisien ki pe reste”.

Of course, the government will first and foremost be building infrastructure and implementing policies to improve the quality of life of Mauritians in the country. But one does not stop being a Mauritian citizen just because one has moved abroad – in fact, as the Minister himself mentions, many who leave do come back (and sometimes leave again), thus negating any clear-cut distinction between those who leave and those who stay. Should not all Mauritian citizens remain important to their government? To “prioritize” one section of the population over another, even rhetorically, remains a dangerous game.

I do not suggest, of course, that all Mauritians who go abroad should imperatively return. To come back or not is an intensely personal choice that everyone should make for themselves, and countless Mauritians who are happily settled abroad continue to “give back” in a variety of ways, without physically relocating. What I do firmly believe, however, is that all Mauritians should have a fair shot at making a living in the country that has always been home, if and when they choose to return. (And I insist here on the wording – a “fair shot”, that is, an opportunity to walk into a job interview, or start up a business, and be judged based on talent and merit). Such a feeling is priceless. But it is not a feeling that subsists on thin air: it is one that our elected officials need to commit to cultivating, as they have previously through initiatives such as the Mauritian Diaspora Scheme, for the sake of the country we all love.

After all, it is true that many people are willing to invest the money required to buy Mauritian citizenship; it is true that tourists are filling up our resorts, and it is true that foreign workers are filling in holes in the job market. But does that solve all our issues? Let us think one generation ahead, when a large chunk of Mauritian talent has left and given up hope of circulating back. The beaches and the IRS villas will still be full. But who will be left to head the civil service, to teach in schools and universities, to perform surgeries, to debate new bills in Parliament? After all, the question of the “brain drain” is not just about the people who leave – it is also about the country that gets left behind.