Beyond money: Why young Tunisians are fleeing for better futures abroad

Young Tunisians face economic hardship limiting access to healthcare, education, and housing, forcing consideration of permanent emigration as their primary path to stability.
It's no longer just about money
A software engineer earning good income explains why he's still considering leaving Tunisia.
Mark

Why is this happening now, specifically? Tunisia has had economic problems for years.

Mimi

The unemployment numbers have been stubborn for a long time, yes. But what's shifted is the scale of emigration and the kinds of people leaving. You're not just seeing young people without jobs—you're seeing engineers, doctors, people with credentials and training.

Luke

The engineer figure is striking, but I want to be careful here. Six thousand five hundred in 2022 is a real number from the head of the engineers' order. But is that the total who left the country, or just those formally registered as leaving through official channels? The source doesn't clarify.

Mimi

That's a fair point. What we know for certain is that the flow has tripled compared to 2013-2014. Whether it's every single engineer or a documented subset, the direction is unmistakable.

Mark

And the young people—what's driving them beyond just "no jobs"?

Mimi

That's the real story. A researcher named Ramadan Ben Omar says the motivations have become more complex. It's not purely economic anymore. Young people want freedom, a say in public life, a sense that their future is knowable. They're looking at Tunisia and seeing political uncertainty alongside economic hardship.

Luke

But how do we know that's actually what's driving the decision to leave? The Afrobarometer study found 59 percent cited job opportunities as the main reason. The other factors—freedom, participation—those are mentioned, but are they primary or secondary?

Mimi

They're secondary in the survey data, you're right. But the people Al Jazeera spoke to—Hamza, Maher, Ghaith—they all describe something beyond paychecks. Hamza earns good money and still wants to leave. That's the evidence that it's more complex.

Mark

What about the people who still believe in the president? Are they just naive, or is there something real there?

Mimi

Mohamed Amine genuinely believes Saied is sincere and that reform takes time. He's not wrong that seven years is not an enormous amount of time for structural change. But Ghaith's frustration is also legitimate—people want to see results and clear communication about what's happening.

Luke

The source doesn't give us much on what Saied's government has actually accomplished or failed to accomplish. We know people are disappointed, but we don't have the policy details to evaluate whether that disappointment is justified.

Mark

So what happens next? Does Tunisia lose an entire generation?

Mimi

That's the question the piece ends with. The country is facing a choice about whether it can offer young people enough reason to stay. Right now, the answer appears to be no for many of them.

  • Youth unemployment has reached 35.4% for those aged 15–24, and skilled professionals — engineers, doctors, nurses — are leaving at rates that suggest not a trickle but a structural hemorrhage.
  • The urgency is personal and compounding: one media worker's entire salary vanishes into rent, loans, and school fees, leaving nothing for his mother's medicine — a portrait repeated across hundreds of thousands of households.
  • Even those with stable incomes are reconsidering: a 26-year-old software engineer earning well still weighs emigration, citing administrative dysfunction, political uncertainty, and the absence of a livable future beyond the paycheck.
  • The country is politically fractured between those who still trust in Saied's reform project and those who have watched seven years pass without the promised change materializing in daily life.
  • Tunisia now faces a generational ultimatum — whether it can offer its young people enough reason to stay — as emigration transforms from a financial strategy into a life project in its own right.

Across Tunisia, a generation is quietly rehearsing departure — not in despair alone, but in the measured arithmetic of lives that no longer add up at home. Seven years into President Kais Saied's rule, youth unemployment exceeding 35 percent and the steady erosion of purchasing power have pushed more than half of young Tunisians to seriously consider emigration, a figure that has grown sharply since 2018. What makes this moment distinct is that the calculus has shifted: young people are no longer fleeing only poverty, but seeking freedom, voice, and the coherence of a future they cannot yet see in their own country.

Maher Qassem has spent years building a media career in Tunisia, yet his salary dissolves each month into loan payments, rent, and his son's school fees. Some months, he cannot afford medicine for his mother. Seven years into President Kais Saied's presidency, he sees no meaningful improvement — and has begun packing his bags for France.

He is far from alone. Research by Afrobarometer shows that around two-thirds of young Tunisians have considered emigrating, with those seriously contemplating departure rising from 38 percent in 2018 to 51 percent by 2024. Better job opportunities remain the leading motivation, cited by 59 percent — but the picture has grown more complex than simple economics.

The unemployment figures provide the hard backdrop: a national rate of 14.9 percent, with youth unemployment at 35.4 percent for those aged 15–24. Female university graduates face a rate of 35.6 percent, compared with 14.2 percent for men. Behind these numbers are hundreds of thousands of young people pressing against a labor market with little room for them.

The skilled-worker exodus compounds the crisis. Some 6,500 engineers left Tunisia in 2022 alone — more than double the annual average from a decade earlier. Healthcare departures follow a similar trajectory, with thousands of medical and paramedical professionals recruited abroad in recent years. These are not marginal losses; they represent a systematic draining of national capacity.

Yet even relative security offers no immunity. Hamza, a 26-year-old software engineer with a good income, is seriously weighing emigration. "It's no longer just about money," he told Al Jazeera. Migration researcher Ramadan Ben Omar confirms the shift: young Tunisians are searching for personal freedom, political participation, and the coherence of a future — emigration has become a life project, not merely a financial exit.

Tunisia remains divided on what this moment means. A taxi driver named Mohamed Amine still believes in Saied's intentions and argues reform takes time. Ghaith, who once felt hope at Saied's 2019 election, now waits in disappointment as the cost-of-living pressures of that era persist unchanged. The country stands at a crossroads — caught between economic difficulty and political uncertainty — where, for more and more of its young people, the prospect of a better life points outward rather than inward.

Maher Qassem has worked in media for years, built a career, tried to construct something stable. Now he is thinking about leaving Tunisia altogether. His entire salary disappears into loan payments, rent, and his son's school fees. Some months he cannot afford to help his mother buy medicine. Seven years into President Kais Saied's presidency, Qassem sees no meaningful improvement in his daily life, and he has begun to wonder whether his son has any real future in the country at all.

He is not alone in this calculation. Around two-thirds of young Tunisians have considered emigrating, according to research by Afrobarometer, an independent African survey network. In 2018, 38 percent of young people said they thought seriously about leaving. By 2024, that figure had risen to 51 percent. The reasons they cite have shifted over time. Better job opportunities remain the primary motivation, mentioned by 59 percent of those considering emigration. But the picture is more complicated than simple economics.

Tunisia's unemployment crisis provides the hard backdrop. In the second quarter of 2026, the national unemployment rate stood at 14.9 percent, with roughly 622,000 people out of work. Among young people aged 15 to 24, the rate reached 35.4 percent. University graduates fared somewhat better at 26.6 percent overall, but among female graduates the figure climbed to 35.6 percent, compared with 14.2 percent for men. These numbers represent not just statistics but the lived experience of hundreds of thousands of young Tunisians trying to enter a labor market that has little room for them.

The country is also hemorrhaging skilled workers. Kamel Sahnoun, head of the Tunisian Order of Engineers, reported that approximately 6,500 engineers left Tunisia in 2022 alone—more than double the annual average of about 3,000 recorded in 2013 and 2014. The healthcare sector tells a similar story. Between 2023 and 2025, the Tunisian Agency for Technical Cooperation documented the recruitment of 1,839 healthcare and paramedical professionals to work abroad in 2023, followed by 1,022 in the first nine months of 2024 and 1,244 in 2025. These are not marginal departures. They represent a systematic loss of expertise and capacity.

Yet money alone does not explain the exodus. Hamza, a 26-year-old software engineer earning what he describes as a good income, is seriously considering leaving. "It's no longer just about money," he told Al Jazeera. His decision reflects frustration with how the administration functions, uncertainty about Tunisia's direction, lifestyle concerns, and the broader economic instability that surrounds him even in his relatively secure position. Ramadan Ben Omar, a researcher specializing in migration, observes that the motivations driving emigration have become more layered. Young Tunisians are searching not only for better wages but for greater personal freedom, meaningful participation in public life, and the chance to build a coherent future. Emigration itself has become a life project, not merely a financial strategy.

Tunisia remains politically divided. Some citizens, like Mohamed Amine, a taxi driver in his 30s, continue to believe in President Saied's intentions and argue that reform requires more time. Others, like Ghaith, recall the hope that surrounded Saied's 2019 election victory but have grown frustrated by the absence of tangible change. Seven years later, Ghaith says, the cost-of-living pressures that existed then persist. Citizens want clearer communication from government about policy direction and results, along with accountability and a coherent vision for what comes next.

The question now facing Tunisia is whether it can offer its young people sufficient reason to remain. Maher has already packed his bags for France. Hamza weighs his options despite professional success. Ghaith waits in disappointment. Mohamed Amine holds onto hope for domestic reform. Their different choices reflect a country caught between economic difficulty and political uncertainty, where the prospect of a better life increasingly points outward rather than inward.

The reasons people leave Tunisia have become more complex. The motivations are no longer purely economic—they also include the search for greater freedom, opportunities to participate in public life, and the chance to build a better future.
— Ramadan Ben Omar, migration researcher
Tunisians want clearer answers about government policies and the results they are expected to deliver. They also want accountability and a clear vision for the future.
— Ghaith, young Tunisian
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