
For several days, the dull sound of tools working sheet metal has been echoing through the Cavani Sud hut district, stretching for kilometres along the hillside in Grande-Terre.
Men carry wooden blocks with rusty nails, a woman sits on the ground and fills bags with cement, neighbors sort through the rubble, inspecting each piece of debris, all under a scorching sun.
On December 14, Cyclone Chido swept away the precarious housing of Cavani Sud, a district of Mamoudzou, the capital of the small archipelago in the Indian Ocean.
But among the waste that dangerously litters the ground - broken household appliances, torn fabrics, children's toys, sagging mattresses - the gray tin dwellings stand out.
And in order to be able to build them urgently, the D system is pushed to its paroxysm, making these dwellings even more precarious and dangerous.
"In a hurry"
At the informal landfill on the M'tsapéré landfill, a village south of Mamoudzou, residents rummage through giant piles of rubbish and leave with construction equipment in poor condition on their heads.
The house that Soubira Attoumani is rebuilding with her brother in Cavani Sud is thus "less resistant than the one that was there before", sighs the 41-year-old. He points to the patchwork sheets of metal: "Do you see the difference in colour? Some were the original ones, others were salvaged, others purchased".
"Before, we could study which board we put, the place where we built, today it's a rush," he explains.
For Abdou Ansoirdine too, "it was better before, when it was new". The baker confides that he spent 400 euros to buy "27 sheets" but had to fall back on "recycling, here and there, for the rest".
It took Chaher "two days" to rebuild the family home, which was completely destroyed by the winds. Smiling, he proudly shows the solar panels installed on the roof, which provide him with precious electricity, which was lacking on the island after Chido.
"No solutions proposed"
Residents are forced to "tinker" to avoid "having to sleep outside", laments Youssoufi Said, who was forced to use wood rather than sheet metal.
"The urgent thing is to find shelter to face the rainy season, since there are no solutions proposed by the State," sighs Soubira Attoumani, fatalistically.
During his trip to Mayotte at the beginning of the week, François Bayrou promised to "prevent the reconstruction" of the shanty towns, without specifying where their inhabitants - a third of the population - would be rehoused.
Then, when questioned in Reunion Island about the barracks that had already been rebuilt, the Prime Minister stated that "we will obviously intervene". "But we have to find reception centres. This cannot be done with the snap of a finger, but in any case, the State has the responsibility to say 'this is not acceptable'".
"It is also unacceptable to be in Mayotte with absolutely uncontrolled immigration," he added, while judging the subject to be "extremely difficult" due to the geographical and cultural proximity with the Comoros.
The fate of the shanty towns goes beyond the issue of migration, with "a quarter of French people in Mayotte living in tin houses", recalls researcher Cyrille Hanappe in his 2023 study "In Mayotte, policies of relocation without rehousing".
The "emergency" bill for Mayotte, which should include a measure on the elimination of precarious housing, will be presented to the Council of Ministers next week.