By Assoc. Prof (Dr) Devkumar S Callychurn Mechanical & Production Engineering Department Faculty of Engineering

University of Mauritius d.callychurn@uom.ac.mu

For decades, the manufacturing industry was not merely a contributor to the Mauritian economy — it was its beating heart, its pride, and its promise. Born from the ashes of a mono-crop sugar economy, the rise of manufacturing symbolized independence, ambition, and progress for a young nation determined to stand on its own feet. By the late 1970s and throughout the 1980s, the rhythmic hum of sewing machines, the clatter of looms, and the whistle of factory sirens defined the soundscape of industrial Mauritius.

Each morning, thousands of workers — mostly women — streamed into the factory compounds of Plaine Lauzun, La Tour Koenig, Vacoas, and Curepipe, uniforms neatly pressed, lunch tins in hand. For many, these factories were more than workplaces; they were instruments of liberation. They offered stable incomes, independence, and new social identities in a nation still finding its footing.

By the early 1990s, the Export Processing Zone (EPZ) had become the island’s success story — a globally acclaimed model of small-island industrialization. Garments, plastics, electronics, footwear, and processed foods bearing the proud stamp “Made in Mauritius” travelled far beyond the Indian Ocean — to the shelves of London, Paris, and New York. The sector employed over 90,000 Mauritians, contributed nearly one- quarter of national GDP, and turned a once-vulnerable agricultural economy into a confident, export-driven society.

The manufacturing boom didn’t just create wealth — it created mobility and meaning. Whole communities grew around factory zones; new bus routes were designed for shift workers; banks began offering small loans to machinists and supervisors; and for the first time, women became financial heads of households. The transformation was visible, tangible, and deeply human.

But like many economic miracles, this one was not to last. The very forces that had propelled Mauritius into global trade — liberalization, globalization, and preferential market access — would later turn against it. As international markets opened and competition intensified, Mauritius’s small-scale, labour-intensive model became increasingly unsustainable. The dismantling of trade protections in the early 2000s exposed the fragility of an industry that had once seemed invincible.

Today, many of those same industrial estates that once pulsed with energy stand in eerie silence. Gates are padlocked, warehouses overgrown, and factory floors thick with dust. The machinery has stopped, and with it, the economic heartbeat of countless communities. Former garment workers now run roadside stalls, work in low-paying service jobs, or rely on family support to survive.

What was once hailed as the engine of Mauritius’s economic miracle has become a case study in ‘deindustrialization’ — a slow, painful unravelling of a sector that built the foundation of national prosperity. The decline of manufacturing is more than an economic phenomenon; it is the story of a generation’s lost confidence, of policies that failed to adapt, and of an economy that turned its back on production in favour of services.

This article explores that story — from the optimism of the 1970s and 1980s, through the golden years of export-led growth, to the gradual disintegration of the industrial base in the face of global competition and policy complacency. It examines how a sector that once defined Mauritius’s success became the forgotten casualty of its own transformation — and whether a new wave of sustainable, technology-driven reindustrialization can ever restore its former strength.

1.  The Glory Days: A Nation That Built Itself

The story of Mauritian manufacturing begins shortly after independence in 1968, when the island’s economy was dangerously dependent on a single crop — sugar. With unemployment above 20% and social unrest rising, the newly independent government sought a way to diversify.

In 1970, the introduction of the Export Processing Zone (EPZ) Act marked a turning point. The EPZ offered generous tax incentives, duty-free imports, and easy repatriation of profits to attract foreign investors, particularly from Hong Kong and Europe.

The strategy worked beyond expectations. By the mid-1980s, the manufacturing sector — especially textiles and garments — was booming. Firms such as Compagnie Mauricienne de Textile (CMT), RT Knits, Tropic Knits, and Firemount Textiles became household names, producing high-quality apparel for international fashion brands like Marks & Spencer, Levi’s, and Adidas.

Employment surged. By 1995, the sector employed over 90,000 workers, primarily women from rural areas, providing them with stable incomes and a path to financial independence.The EPZ was revolutionary as it lifted thousands out of poverty. For the first time, Mauritians were earning foreign currency, contributing directly to the national economy. At its height, manufacturing contributed nearly 25% of Mauritius’s GDP, rivalling tourism and sugar as the country’s main economic pillars.

2.  Cracks in the Fabric: Signs of Trouble

The first warning signs appeared in the early 2000s. The world was changing — fast. The dismantling of the Multi-Fibre Agreement (MFA) in 2005 removed the trade quotas that had long protected smaller producers like Mauritius. Suddenly, the island’s factories had to compete directly with global manufacturing powerhouses such as China, India, and Bangladesh, where labour costs were a fraction of those in Mauritius.

Orders were to start to vanish overnight and buyers wanted cheaper prices. They shifted production to Asia, and we couldn’t compete. At the same time, Mauritian manufacturers were slow to modernize. Many continued producing basic, low-margin garments while competitors moved up the value chain into high- tech textiles, automation, and design innovation.

Rising local wages, small production scales, and dependence on imported raw materials compounded the problem. Electricity and transport costs also climbed, making local production less viable. By 2010, the number of textile and apparel factories had dropped by almost half, and tens of thousands of workers had been laid off.

3.  Globalization’s Heavy Hand

Globalization, once the industry’s lifeline, became its undoing. Mauritius’s early success had been built on preferential market access to the European Union and the United States through trade agreements like the

Cotonou Agreement and the Africa Growth and Opportunity Act (AGOA). However, as trade liberalization deepened, those preferences eroded.

Once the trade barriers came down, small producers like Mauritius were exposed. There were no economies of scale, limited industrial land, and high logistics costs. Competing with Asia was like trying to run a marathon barefoot.While Mauritius’s manufacturing base shrank, some local firms adapted by relocating operations to Madagascar, Vietnam or even Ethiopia, where wages were lower and industrial policies more supportive. Ironically, Mauritian capital continued to profit — but not on Mauritian soil.

4.  The Human Toll: Voices from the Ground

Behind the neat lines of economic data and policy reports lies a far more complex and painful story — one of displacement, social dislocation, and loss of identity. The collapse of the manufacturing industry has not only dismantled factories; it has dismantled communities, families, and aspirations that once revolved around the rhythm of industrial life.

Entire neighbourhoods in Plaine Lauzun, Phoenix, Bambous, and Flacq were built around the hum of factory work. These were tight-knit ecosystems — where the textile mill was the main employer, the bakery next door sold bread to shift workers, and local transport services revolved around factory schedules. The decline of manufacturing didn’t just erase jobs; it unravelled the social fabric of these towns.

When factories began closing their doors in the mid-2000s, thousands of workers — many with over two decades of service — found themselves suddenly redundant. Severance packages were meagre, retraining programmes were limited, and the transition to other sectors daunting. For many, factory work represented not just a paycheck, but dignity and empowerment. It allowed them to build homes, educate their children, and gain a measure of independence rare in the 1970s and 1980s.

But the decline of the industry has reversed much of that progress. Many ex-factory workers have slipped into the informal economy — selling food on the streets, taking in laundry, or running small home-based tailoring operations. The shift has not only reduced incomes but also stripped away social protections such as pensions, paid leave, and medical benefits.

According to estimates from the Mauritius Labour Force Survey (2023), nearly 60% of those who left industrial jobs between 2005 and 2020 are now engaged in informal work or are unemployed. The gender dimension is especially stark: women over 45 face the greatest difficulty re-entering the formal labour market.

The decline has also created a generational divide. For the older generation, manufacturing symbolized progress and stability. For younger Mauritians, however, factory work carries connotations of monotony, low wages, and obsolescence. Young people don’t want to work in factories anymore as they see finance, tourism, and ICT as the future — glamorous, modern, and comfortable. Manufacturing, on the other hand, is seen as hard labour. The culture of production was lost. This cultural shift has long-term implications. As older, skilled machinists retire and younger generations turn away from industrial trades, Mauritius risks losing a crucial part of its technical knowledge base. Skills such as textile cutting, pattern design, machine calibration, and quality inspection — once honed over decades — are now disappearing.

The social consequences ripple outward. Small towns that once depended on factory employment now face economic stagnation. Local shops close due to declining spending power. Public buses that once ran full at 6 a.m. now carry only a handful of passengers. The community identity that once revolved around industrial life has fragmented.

For some, the loss is not only economic but psychological. Studies by the University of Mauritius Social Development Unit (2021) found rising stress, anxiety, and depression among displaced industrial workers, many of whom struggle to adapt to service-oriented work or long periods of inactivity. It was not just about the salary, but these workers felt they had a purpose at the factory. They produced something and were part of something.

Yet amid the despair, there is resilience. Some ex-factory workers have reinvented themselves as micro- entrepreneurs — setting up small tailoring businesses, food stalls, or craft workshops. A few have even transitioned to producing locally branded goods under the “Made in Mauritius (Moris)” label for niche markets. But these stories of reinvention remain exceptions in a wider landscape of uncertainty.

As the nation moves toward a service-dominated economy, the silent factories of La Tour Koenig and Plaine Lauzun stand as poignant reminders that behind every policy decision, there are lives reshaped, identities lost, and communities redefined. The story of Mauritius’s industrial downfall, therefore, is not just about the collapse of production. It is about the erosion of belonging — the fading of an era where work and dignity were inseparable, and where making something tangible was both a livelihood and a source of pride.

5.  Missed Opportunities: The Policy Blind Spot

Mauritius’s industrial policy stagnated just when it needed reinvention. While other small economies like Singapore, South Korea, and Taiwan transitioned from basic manufacturing to high-tech, design-led, and innovation-driven industries, Mauritius remained stuck in a low-value segment. Successive industrial strategies focused more on attracting foreign investment than nurturing home-grown innovation. The result was a dependence on external markets and imported technology — with limited local R&D capacity.

The failure was not in globalization but in governance as the country didn’t anticipate the post-MFA world. There was no long-term vision for technological upgrading, vocational reform, or cluster-based development. The Education and Training System also played a role. As academic pathways expanded, technical and vocational education — once a feeder for industrial skills — declined. The Technical School and Industrial Training Board (IVTB) lost prominence, and manufacturing skills fell out of demand.

6.  The Pandemic and Beyond: The Final Blow

If globalization weakened Mauritius’s manufacturing base, COVID-19 nearly crippled it. Lockdowns disrupted global supply chains, and export orders collapsed. Firms producing garments for European retailers saw orders slashed or cancelled altogether. Data from Statistics Mauritius shows that manufacturing output declined by over 16% in 2020, marking one of the steepest contractions in decades.

Even post-pandemic recovery has been uneven. While food processing and pharmaceuticals rebounded modestly, textile and garment exports continue to lag. At the same time, foreign direct investment (FDI) in manufacturing has stagnated, with investors preferring real estate, finance, and tourism projects.

7.  The New Economy: Finance, ICT, and the Forgotten Sector

The shift of focus by policymakers has also accelerated the decline. Over the last decade, Mauritius has positioned itself as a financial hub, an ICT-BPO destination, and a gateway to Africa. While these sectors have created new jobs, they have also drawn resources and political attention away from traditional

industries. Manufacturing now contributes barely 13% of GDP, compared to 25% two decades ago. Employment in the sector has fallen below 50,000 workers, with many positions filled by foreign labour from Bangladesh and Madagascar.

Manufacturing no longer attracts the best minds. The policy support is minimal and Innovation funds exist on paper, but they’re slow to disburse. It feels like the government has quietly moved on.

8.  Reindustrialization: A Flicker of Hope

In response to mounting criticism, the government has launched the Industrial Policy and Strategic Plan 2020–2025 (IPSP), aimed at revitalizing manufacturing through sustainability, digitalization, and value addition. The policy promotes high-value sectors such as medical devices, precision engineering, biotechnology, and sustainable textiles. Some local firms have begun experimenting with automation, 3D printing, and renewable energy integration in production.

It is difficult, if not impossible, to bring back the 1990s . But a new manufacturing base can be thought of and built— one that’s smarter, greener, and globally connected. However, industrial experts warn that the revival will require more than policy documents. It demands a coordinated national strategy — linking education, innovation, and infrastructure to real industrial outcomes.

The private sector has reacted with a mix of hope and hesitation. The Mauritius Chamber of Commerce and Industry (MCCI) and the Association of Mauritian Manufacturers (AMM) have publicly welcomed the IPSP but stress that policy must be backed by measurable incentives — such as accelerated depreciation for green technology, easier access to innovation funds, and export facilitation for new products.

Several large firms have already begun testing the waters.

• RT Knits has invested in digital weaving and eco-dyeing
• Phoenix Beverages Group is integrating circular economy models to reduce plastic waste and energy use.
• Start-ups like HydroTech Solutions are emerging in water purification and small-scale precision

Still, most small and medium enterprises (SMEs) remain hesitant to invest in new technologies due to limited financing and uncertain returns.

9.  Lessons from the Fall

The downfall of Mauritius’s manufacturing sector is not just a story of one island’s economic transformation — it is a cautionary tale for all small, open economies trying to navigate the volatile tides of globalization. It demonstrates how early success, if not continually renewed through innovation and foresight, can become the seed of long-term vulnerability. From its industrial rise in the 1970s to its decline in the 2000s, Mauritius’s experience offers valuable lessons on resilience, adaptability, and strategic vision.:

1. Adaptation is essential – Industries must evolve with technology and market trends, not against
2. Skills matter – Without technical education and R&D investment, industrial competitiveness

3. Policy coherence is key – Manufacturing cannot survive when fiscal, trade, and labour policies pull in different directions.
4. Diversification within industry – Moving from low-cost assembly to design, branding, and innovation is vital.

The next industrial revolution will not be about size or cheap labour. It will be about intelligence, sustainability, and creativity — producing less, but producing better. If Mauritius can merge its traditional manufacturing discipline with digital innovation, circular economy principles, and niche branding, it could reinvent itself as a model for small-island smart manufacturing. Industrial decline, then, need not be the final chapter. It can be a lesson in adaptation, a blueprint for reinvention. The key lies in learning from the past without being trapped by it.

10.  Looking Ahead: A Nation at a Crossroads

Mauritius’s industrial journey is, in many ways, the story of the nation itself — a testament to adaptation, ambition, and the will to survive. From an island once dependent on sugarcane fields to a thriving exporter of garments, electronics, and processed goods, the evolution from agriculture to industry to services mirrors the country’s economic and social transformation over five decades.

Yet in the headlong rush to embrace the digital and financial economy, Mauritius risks forgetting the foundations upon which its prosperity was built. The shift toward finance, ICT, and tourism has undoubtedly propelled the island into the ranks of upper-middle-income nations. But this very success has come at a cost — the slow erosion of a sector that once created its middle class, empowered its women, and fostered a culture of production, discipline, and self-reliance.

Manufacturing in Mauritius was never just about output or exports. It was about identity — the pride of seeing one’s work travel across oceans, of being part of something tangible and transformative. The decline of this sector, therefore, is not merely an economic issue; it is an existential one. It represents a weakening of the productive capacity that once anchored the national economy and sustained its social fabric.

But while traditional manufacturing has waned, a new industrial era is dawning globally — one defined by Artificial Intelligence (AI), automation, digital twins, and human-machine collaboration. This is the world of Industry 5.0 — a paradigm that moves beyond efficiency and profit to place humans, sustainability, and resilience at the centre of industrial growth. Unlike the mechanized factories of the past, Industry 5.0 envisions smart, adaptive, and sustainable production ecosystems where technology empowers workers rather than replaces them.

For Mauritius, this presents both a challenge and an opportunity. The challenge lies in retooling its industrial mind-set — moving from low-skill assembly to AI-driven design, predictive maintenance, and data- powered manufacturing. The opportunity lies in creating a new generation of factories: smaller, greener, digitally connected, and capable of producing high-value, customized goods for global markets.

Epilogue: From Factories to the Future

As the sun sets over the silent industrial zones of Plaine Lauzun and La Tour Koenig, their rusting gates and faded signboards seem like relics of a different age. Yet within those empty warehouses lies potential

— the potential to be reborn as innovation labs, smart manufacturing spaces, or green technology hubs.

The story of the Mauritian manufacturing industry is not one of total failure, but of missed transformation. The tragedy was not in losing factories but in failing to evolve them. The challenge now is not to mourn what was lost but to redefine what can be built. In the 21st century, “Made in Mauritius” need not refer to mass-produced textiles or low-value assembly lines. It can mean AI-augmented creativity, sustainable production, and circular design — products born from intellect, responsibility, and innovation.

Whether Mauritius can reclaim its place in global production depends not on nostalgia for the past, but on the courage to embrace Industry 5.0 and the circular economy as instruments of renewal. The nation’s industrial legacy need not end in silence. It can begin anew — intelligent, inclusive, and sustainable — with the same ambition that once turned a sugar island into a symbol of industrial success.