The invisible backbone of Senegal: migrant women shaping the economy

Celebrating African women beyond rhetoric

The continent honors its women on July 31st, a date marking the 1962 Dar es Salaam Women’s Conference that later inspired the 1974 creation of the Pan-African Women’s Organization. In 2026, the African Union has dedicated the year to water and sanitation under the theme: « Ensuring sustainable water availability and safe sanitation systems to achieve Agenda 2063 goals ». Yet behind these lofty declarations lies a stark reality: the women who literally carry water on their heads every day remain invisible in policymaking.

In Senegal, women migrants—whether internal migrants from rural areas or foreign nationals from neighboring countries—form the backbone of the economy. They work as domestic helpers in Dakar households, street vendors in bustling markets, and caregivers in urban centers. Their contributions keep the country running, yet their labor goes unrecognized, their rights unprotected, and their access to clean water and decent sanitation woefully inadequate.

The silent migration from rural Senegal to urban centers

Before crossing international borders, many Senegalese women first migrate from rural areas to cities like Dakar. The journey often begins with a daily water-collection ritual that steals hours from education, health, and economic opportunities. Each year, young women leave their villages for urban areas, where they enter the informal labor market—cooking, cleaning, and caring for children in households across the capital. According to national statistics, the informal sector employs nearly half of Senegal’s workforce, with women making up 51.3% of this segment. Yet in Dakar, they face greater precarity, with 41.5% working without contracts or social protection.

The 2026 theme of water and sanitation is not just about infrastructure—it’s about dignity. Without reliable access to safe water and toilets, women in these roles face heightened risks of harassment, illness, and exploitation. Their labor sustains Dakar’s economy, but their basic needs remain unmet.

Senegal’s evolving role as a land of opportunity—and rising tensions

Senegal has long been a haven for migrants from across West Africa. The latest census reveals over 200,000 foreign residents, with 44.3% being women. Most hail from neighboring countries: Guinea (40.3%), Mali (14.9%), Guinea-Bissau (4.4%), Gambia (3.0%), and Mauritania (2.1%). In border regions like Kédougou, foreign nationals outnumber returning Senegalese in some areas.

This tradition of hospitality is now under strain. Rising xenophobic rhetoric, particularly targeting Guinean Fulani communities, accuses migrants of straining public schools and altering demographic balances. Political voices have called for stricter residency rules and even challenges to birthright citizenship for children of foreigners born in Senegal. The language echoes troubling patterns seen elsewhere in Africa, where migrant communities face cyclical violence.

Double vulnerability: gender and foreign status in Senegal

Foreign women migrants in Senegal face intersecting challenges. Like their Senegalese counterparts, they often work in informal domestic roles without contracts or social protections. Their access to water and sanitation depends on employers or local networks—leaving them exposed to exploitation and harassment. When national or ethnic groups are scapegoated, these women become primary targets, reluctant to report abuses for fear of jeopardizing their fragile administrative status or drawing attention to their communities.

The 2026 water and sanitation agenda must address their specific needs. Policies that ignore the neighborhoods where migrant women live or tie essential services to unstable legal statuses will fail those who need them most.

Shifting migration dynamics and legal precarity

The 2025 rupture between ECOWAS and the Alliance of Sahel States (AES) has introduced new uncertainties for migrant workers. While free movement remains theoretically intact, legal protections are now subject to bilateral agreements rather than the robust ECOWAS protocols established in 1979. For Malian, Burkinabé, and Nigerien women working in Senegal without proper documentation, this shift means heightened vulnerability. Their right to stay may now hinge on political declarations rather than stable legal frameworks.

The security situation in the Sahel further complicates matters. After deadly attacks in Mali in early 2026, an increase in female migration from Mali to Senegal is anticipated. Civil society and labor unions must vigilantly monitor how these women are treated, particularly regarding access to foreign identity cards, healthcare, and education for their children.

Colonial legacies and the politics of belonging

To understand today’s xenophobia, we must confront Africa’s colonial borders. Drawn at the 1884–85 Berlin Conference without regard for existing communities, these artificial lines have fueled postcolonial struggles over national identity. Senegal’s rhetoric of « autochtony »—determining who truly « belongs »—mirrors patterns seen in South Africa’s Afrophobia. This intra-African xenophobia perpetuates colonial divisions, as Frantz Fanon warned, by pitting black African against black African under the guise of national unity.

Gender adds another layer. Scholars like Oyèronké Oyèwùmí and Amina Mama highlight how colonialism reshaped gender categories, which postcolonial nationalists later weaponized to define national belonging. Foreign women and their children become targets in this battle for national identity, particularly when debates arise over birthright citizenship.

Water and sanitation: the invisible barriers for migrant women

The AU’s 2026 theme is far from a technical slogan—it’s a gendered issue with direct implications for migrant women. In Dakar’s peripheral neighborhoods, where many settle, access to piped water and safe sanitation is patchy. Women and girls face heightened insecurity at night without decent toilets. For domestic workers living with employers, access to water and sanitation depends entirely on the goodwill of their hosts. This dependency mirrors the challenges faced by Senegalese women working abroad and African women working in Senegal—all bound by the same lack of enforceable labor rights.

An agenda that ignores the living and working conditions of migrant women will fail to deliver on its promises. True progress requires recognizing their labor, protecting their rights, and ensuring their access to basic services—wherever they are.

A hospitality that must flow both ways

July 31st should not be a ceremonial tribute. The AU’s water and sanitation theme must translate into action. The message is clear: Senegal’s economy—and Africa’s future—depends on migrant women. Without guaranteed access to safe water and sanitation for these women, in their homes, workplaces, and neighborhoods, Agenda 2063’s goals will remain unmet for those who need them most. Hospitality that stops at the border is no hospitality at all; policies that forget these women will miss the mark entirely.