In the heart of N’Djamena, Chad’s bustling capital, a growing number of young people are turning to the grueling trade of sand transport to make ends meet. This harsh reality reflects the city’s deepening youth unemployment crisis, leaving thousands with few alternatives to support themselves.
From classrooms to sand-laden streets
The market of Emtoukoui, located in the 7th arrondissement of N’Djamena, has become a daily battleground for survival. Here, dozens of young men haul sand-filled sacks on their backs or balance heavy loads on makeshift carts, their faces etched with exhaustion from dawn to dusk. For them, this isn’t just a job—it’s a lifeline.
Official projections paint a grim picture: recent macroeconomic forecasts indicate that poverty in Chad could engulf 45.4% of the population, trapping nearly 9.5 million people in extreme deprivation. The youth bear the brunt of this crisis, with unemployment rates soaring among those aged 15 to 24, reaching 30.3%. For those aged 15 to 30, the overall jobless rate hovers around 22%, while over 60% of unemployed young graduates remain locked out of the formal economy.
A day’s labor under the scorching sun
Under the relentless equatorial sun, these young workers line the dusty roads of Emtoukoui, their bodies straining under the weight of 50-kilogram sand sacks. The process is unforgiving: lifting, carrying, and delivering sand door-to-door, often for meager earnings. The tools of their trade—handmade carts and reinforced sacks—become extensions of their bodies, bearing the physical toll of their daily grind.
« We don’t choose this work out of love. We do it because we must survive, » admits one young laborer, his voice heavy with resignation. « Hunger doesn’t wait, and neither can we. » Many of these workers have limited education, their dreams of stable employment dashed long ago. For them, the sand trade is the closest thing to an opportunity in a city where formal jobs are scarce.
The fragile economics of survival
The sand transport business operates on razor-thin margins. Rates fluctuate wildly based on distance, terrain difficulty, and a customer’s bargaining power, typically ranging from 2,000 to 5,000 West African CFA francs per delivery. These earnings, though modest, provide a fragile cushion against starvation for families teetering on the edge of poverty.
This informal economy, born out of necessity, underscores a harsh truth: N’Djamena’s youth are building the city’s infrastructure one backbreaking load at a time, yet their labor often goes unnoticed. Without access to formal employment, these young workers have no choice but to embrace the grind of the sand trade, their futures hanging in the balance as they wait for the next customer to signal a lifeline.
In Emtoukoui and across the capital, their plea is simple: not pity, but opportunity. Until that chance arrives, they’ll keep shouldering their loads, their faces set against the weight of uncertainty.
