Seeking New Horizons: The Journey of French Africans to Senegal

Menka Gomis, a 39-year-old entrepreneur, exemplifies a growing trend among French Africans choosing to leave France in search of a future in Africa. Born in France to Senegalese parents, Gomis represents a generation increasingly disillusioned by rising racism, discrimination, and nationalism in their homeland. This phenomenon has been described as a “silent exodus,” as individuals like Gomis look to reconnect with their ancestral roots while finding new opportunities in countries like Senegal.

Gomis, who runs a travel agency focused on trips to Africa, aims to help others rediscover their heritage. He recently opened an office in Senegal, emphasizing his commitment to the continent. “I was born in France, and I grew up there. I know the realities, including the racism I’ve faced,” he tells BBC World Service, recalling the painful memories of being called racial slurs as a child in Marseille. For him, the move is not just about leaving behind France; it’s also about embracing a sense of responsibility to his parents’ homeland and the potential he sees in Africa.

“Africa is like the Americas during the gold rush. It’s the continent of the future, where everything is left to build and develop,” Gomis believes, viewing his transition as both a personal and professional opportunity.

The historical ties between France and Senegal are deep and complex, stemming from Senegal’s status as a former French colony and its role in the transatlantic slave trade. In recent years, a different migration pattern has emerged, with many risking perilous journeys across the Mediterranean to reach Europe. According to the French Office for the Protection of Refugees and Stateless Persons (OFPRA), last year saw a record number of asylum applications in France, reflecting a growing desire for protection among migrants.

While the exact number of French citizens returning to Africa is unclear—largely due to legal restrictions on collecting data regarding race and ethnicity—there is evidence that well-educated French citizens, particularly from Muslim backgrounds, are quietly emigrating. They cite increasing hostility and discrimination, fueled by a rising right-wing political climate.

Fanta Guirassy, a single mother running her nursing practice in a Paris suburb, is another who plans to move to Senegal, her mother’s birthplace. “In France, we’ve been feeling less and less safe for several years,” she says, expressing her concerns about her son’s safety after he was stopped by police for no apparent reason. The social unrest following the police shooting of 17-year-old Nahel Merzouk, a French national of Algerian descent, highlighted the pervasive racial tensions in France.

Amid these challenges, Guirassy and others like her are reconsidering their futures in France. A recent survey revealed that 91% of black respondents in France reported experiencing racial discrimination, and calls for systemic changes have intensified. The French government, however, has dismissed accusations of systemic racism, asserting that the police actively combat discrimination.

Audrey Monzemba, a Congolese schoolteacher, feels the weight of societal changes. Each day, she discreetly removes her headscarf before reaching her school, where the hijab has become a controversial symbol in secular France. “I want to thrive in an environment that respects my faith and values,” she states, underscoring her desire to live authentically.

This search for authenticity is echoed by Fatoumata Sylla, a tourism software developer who plans to move to Senegal. She reflects on her father’s journey from Africa to France and emphasizes the importance of reconnecting with her heritage. However, her brother Abdoul, born in Paris, expresses skepticism about the notion of rediscovering ancestral culture, highlighting the complexities of identity and belonging.

In Dakar, Salamata Konte, who co-founded a travel agency with Gomis, shares her experiences since relocating from a lucrative banking career in Paris. Initially shocked by being called “Frenchie,” she soon realized the nuances of her identity. “I was rejected in France, and now I’m also facing rejection here,” she reflects, emphasizing the importance of approaching her new life with humility.

While she acknowledges challenges as a businesswoman in Senegal, particularly regarding gender biases, she remains committed to proving herself in her new environment. Gomis, too, is optimistic about his future in Senegal, eagerly anticipating his citizenship while expanding his travel agency and exploring new ventures, including a dating app tailored for the Senegalese market.

As these individuals navigate their journeys, they illustrate the complexities of identity, belonging, and opportunity in a world where traditional borders and definitions are increasingly blurred. Their stories reflect a broader narrative of resilience and hope, as French Africans seek to forge new lives in a continent rich with potential.