VICTORIA, Seychelles, Jun 29 2026 (IPS) - On the night of 29 June 1976, just before midnight, I stood among my fellow Seychellois at the heart of a moment that would change our history forever.
The air was heavy with expectation, pride, and a certain quiet anxiety: we were stepping into the unknown.
That night was emotional for me in a very personal way. After the new president had delivered his address, the president of my party – who would become Prime Minister at Independence – took the podium. At the end of his speech, he recited a poem I had written for our newspaper, entitled “Il est Minuit” – “It is midnight”. Hearing my own words spoken at that exact moment, when one era was ending and another beginning, was unforgettable. It felt as if the poem had become part of the birth certificate of our nation.
Fifty years later, as Seychelles celebrates its golden jubilee of Independence, I look back not only as a witness of that first midnight, but as someone who has walked alongside the country through many of its trials and transformations: from minister, to vice president, to president, and now as an advocate for the Blue Economy and for Small Island Developing States (SIDS) on the global stage.
The struggle for Independence was our first great challenge. As a small colony in the Indian Ocean, it could have been easy to remain permanently on the periphery of history. Instead, the Seychellois chose to take responsibility for their own destiny. The transition from colonial rule to self government forged a strong sense of identity and duty. It taught us that freedom is not a one time event, but a continuous effort.
In the years after Independence, Seychelles experimented with different political paths, including one party rule and later a return to multi party democracy. These choices were often contentious, but they were part of our process of political maturation. As institutions evolved and multi party politics took root, we learned the value of dialogue, compromise and the rule of law. A young state was becoming a more confident republic.
One of the most defining moments in my own journey came in 2008. By then I was president, and Seychelles was facing a deep economic crisis. The global financial turmoil, combined with soaring oil and food prices, had almost exhausted our foreign reserves. The rupee was heavily overvalued, deficits were spiralling, and eventually the country missed a payment on its external debt.
In such moments, leadership is tested in very practical ways. On 31 October 2008, I took the decision to launch a comprehensive macroeconomic reform programme, supported by the International Monetary Fund. We floated the rupee, restructured the national debt, and imposed strict fiscal discipline. These were not popular measures; they required real sacrifice from the Seychellois people.
Yet that programme became a turning point. It stabilised our economy, restored credibility, and moved Seychelles towards a more modern, private sector led market system.
Looking back, I consider those reforms one of the most important achievements of my leadership. Without that foundation, many of the subsequent steps we took – in education, innovation and environmental policy – would have been far more difficult, if not impossible.
Just as those economic reforms were taking root, a new and very different threat emerged. Somali pirates, heavily armed, began operating deep inside our Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ), hijacking local vessels, taking Seychellois fishermen hostage and frightening away cruise ships and fishing fleets. Our two main economic pillars – tourism and tuna fishing – were suddenly at risk.
For a small island state with 1.3 million square kilometres of ocean, this was an existential security challenge. We knew we could not police such a vast space alone. We therefore mounted an intense diplomatic effort to convince regional and global partners that securing the Western Indian Ocean was in everyone’s interest. Seychelles became a hub for anti piracy operations; our Coast Guard cooperated closely with foreign navies; and we adapted our domestic laws to prosecute and imprison pirates.
These were difficult years, but they showed that a small nation, if it acts with courage and clarity, can punch above its weight. We helped to restore security to our waters and protect the livelihoods of our people.
Meanwhile, a quieter but more permanent threat was taking shape: climate change. Coral bleaching, coastal erosion and rising sea levels were affecting our islands directly. Seychelles was facing an environmental crisis it had done little to create, while international climate finance for SIDS was still limited and slow.
It was in this context that the idea of the Blue Economy began to crystallise. For years, I had been convinced that our future would be decided not only on land, but in the ocean that surrounds us. Seychelles has a small landmass but a vast maritime zone. If we could rethink the ocean as a space for sustainable development – not just for exploitation – we could turn vulnerability into opportunity.
When I began advocating publicly for the Blue Economy, there was scepticism at home and abroad. Some considered it too abstract, others thought it was merely a new label for old ideas. But we persisted in giving the concept substance: through marine spatial planning, through the designation of large marine protected areas, and through innovative mechanisms such as the debt for nature swap we concluded in 2014 with the Paris Club and The Nature Conservancy.
That agreement restructured part of our national debt in exchange for robust commitments to ocean conservation. It helped to fund protection for 30% of our waters and became a model for other countries. Seychelles, once seen only as a vulnerable small island state, was now recognised as a pioneer of the Blue Economy and of nature based solutions.
Economic and environmental reforms are only part of the story. I have always believed that the most important investment a country can make is in its people. That is why I supported the creation of the University of Seychelles, at a time when some argued that our nation was too small to have its own university. The aim was simple: to give Seychellois youth the chance to pursue tertiary education at home and build their future on their own soil.
We complemented this with initiatives like the Young Leaders Programme, designed to prepare promising young Seychellois for positions of responsibility, including through postgraduate studies.
For me, these efforts are as central to our Independence story as any economic reform or diplomatic achievement. Independence is not only about sovereignty; it is about giving every generation the tools to shape its own destiny.
