Morocco's Gen Z moves from streets to ballot box in parliamentary election

Hamza El Kharroubi spent much of last year in the streets. A 28-year-old environmental entrepreneur, he was among thousands of young Moroccans who took to the pavement in late 2025 to demand something their government had failed to provide: functioning hospitals, decent schools, jobs that paid enough to live on, and an end to the rot of corruption. This week, he is running for parliament.

The shift from protest to candidacy is not incidental. It is the story of Morocco's election on September 23, and it reflects a generation's decision to test whether formal politics can deliver what the streets could not. El Kharroubi founded the Environment and Sustainability Party to funnel the energy of youth activism into legislative seats. "The previous protests by Gen Z have sparked more youth engagement in political parties," he told reporters while campaigning in Tetouan. "We expect this year to have exceptional participation from youth, both in voting and campaigning."

The protests that preceded this moment began on September 27, 2025, after eight women died following Caesarean deliveries at a public hospital in Agadir. The deaths were a breaking point. They crystallized months of simmering anger over healthcare, education, employment, and the sense that public money was being spent on anything but the people who needed it most. A leaderless movement called GenZ 212 organized largely through Discord, TikTok, and Instagram—platforms where young Moroccans could coordinate without the gatekeeping of traditional party structures. At least three people were killed during the unrest in October 2025. The movement demanded better hospitals, better schools, real jobs, and an end to corruption. It had no formal leadership, no party affiliation, no hierarchy. It was, in its essence, a rejection of the way politics had always been done.

Yet the election presents a paradox. More than 15.8 million Moroccans are registered to vote for all 395 seats in the House of Representatives. But only about four percent of registered voters are between 18 and 24 years old. By contrast, voters aged 60 and above make up more than 29 percent of the electorate. People aged 35 to 44 account for 21 percent. In the 2021 election, turnout was just over 50 percent. The young people who filled the streets last year remain largely absent from the formal machinery of voting and candidacy. The election is a test of whether that absence can be reversed.

Az-el Arab Hilmi, 32, works with the Federation of the Democratic Left and has been thinking about this problem. He believes the Gen Z protests revealed something crucial: young Moroccans no longer accept vague promises or abstract political language. They want to see tangible change in their lives—schools that work, hospitals that do not kill, jobs that exist. "There is a generation that wants to see tangible results in its daily life," he said. But Hilmi also believes political parties have a responsibility that extends beyond election season. "Giving young people not just a place in the front rows during campaigns, but a real place in the debate, in decision-making and in taking responsibility"—that is what matters. His own path into politics began in 2016, when he was drawn to a parliamentary campaign by Omar Balafrej, a politician who spoke in direct language and presented himself as accountable rather than distant. Balafrej won a Rabat seat that year. In October 2025, GenZ 212 invited him to discuss democracy and political change on its Discord server. The movement described him as a supporter of youth activism and peaceful protest.

Moubarak Toumi, 18, joined the Socialist Union of Popular Forces three years ago and sees the distance between young Moroccans and formal politics as something inherited. Older generations passed down a mentality of keeping a low profile, avoiding trouble, ensuring stability. There was even a phrase for it: the "200-dirham mentality," referring to the cash sometimes handed to voters. But Toumi believes that mindset is changing. "Today, however, we must renew our thinking and engage more actively to build a better future," he said. The frustration that drives young people is concrete: healthcare and education budgets that are massive but produce nothing, employment promises that never materialize. Youth unemployment in Morocco stands at 37.2 percent for people aged 15 to 24, according to official figures from 2025.

What the election can actually change remains an open question. Morocco's political system gives the monarchy a central institutional role, while elected governments handle public policy and legislation. Hilmi is clear-eyed about the limits. "No party can fix every problem as soon as it reaches a council or a position of responsibility," he said. What voters should expect instead is commitment to what was promised, transparency about what can and cannot be done, and responsible governance. A vote, in his view, is not an ending. It is a beginning—the start of a relationship between citizens and their representatives, one in which young people must continue to "monitor, ask, criticise and demand accountability." The election is not a blank cheque. It is an opening, and what happens next depends on whether the young people who took to the streets are willing to stay engaged when the campaign ends and the real work of holding power accountable begins.