Tomatoes: How is Moroccan competition establishing itself in the European market and at what price?

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A few kilometers south of Agadir (Morocco), the land where herds of dromedaries are encountered is among the driest in Morocco. Yet, the France Télévisions crews are traveling through the heart of one of the largest vegetable gardens in the world. Under greenhouses that stretch to the horizon, thousands of workers are at work. The little hands of the tomato . "I earn 9 euros a day," says one employee.

On the farm, women pick barely ripe tomatoes so they can survive the 15-day journey ahead. The vast majority of the tomatoes will soon be sold on French supermarket shelves. "Every year, we export 30,000 tons of tomatoes. And let's say we send around 20,000 tons to France," says Youness Bougarba, Quality Mar's quality director.

France and Europe are the primary recipients of Moroccan tomatoes. In 25 years, exports to the European Union have even quadrupled. Production has exploded, and today greenhouses cover the entire Agadir region. A major player in this great leap forward: the Franco-Moroccan group Azura. For the first time, the sector leader has authorized cameras to film the immense warehouse where 4,000 people work. The sorting lines are said to be state-of-the-art. As proof, we are told, a machine that tracks the slightest defect on each tomato. "The machine can process up to 1.2 million tomatoes per day, which is equivalent to an average of 65 tons per day. And for each fruit, there are several photos, up to 8 photos per tomato, which really allows us to obtain precision," assures Mohassine Mehdaoui, director of the Azura group's packing station. The machines would help to further reduce production costs and offer consumers ever cheaper tomatoes, like the cans sold in our supermarkets for 99 euro cents, two to three times cheaper than their French competitors. "Honestly, I don't understand why this is annoying. As an economic operator and as a country, don't we have the right to develop?" says Abir Lemseffet, CEO of the Azura group.

With its ultramodern factories, the Moroccan tomato industry is facing a threat that could thwart its dreams of grandeur. Water is gradually becoming scarce . On farms, it must be extracted from ever deeper underground. According to scientists, global warming, but especially the depletion of groundwater by agriculture, are the causes of the water shortage.

Faced with the shortage, the wealthiest producers buy desalinated seawater. The Benelasri family, on the other hand, cannot afford it. For decades, they grew fruit and vegetables on about fifteen hectares of land. But five years ago, deprived of irrigation, Abdullah Benelasri, like more than a dozen farmers in the surrounding area, chose to end the family farm. "When my brother told me I'm stopping, I said no, it's not possible. I had a lot of trouble accepting that. In fact, I think he must have felt it," explains Aicha Benelasri, a resident of Zaouit in Massa. " We grew so many vegetables and now nothing. We're unemployed," shares Abdullah Benelasri. Out of pride, Abdullah Benelasri did not want to join the cohorts of workers employed by the large farms in the surrounding area.

However, there is a shortage of workers in the greenhouses. According to our information, several companies in Agadir are even using illegal migrants from sub-Saharan Africa. On social media, videos show Ivorians, Senegalese, and Guineans working illegally on farms. There are even job advertisements.

In the suburbs of Agadir, France Télévisions crews meet a man who denounces the exploitation of migrants on farms. He is one of the leaders of a sub-Saharan community there. "In the last census they conducted in Agadir, there were approximately 7,000 migrants. 90% work in the fields," he says.

He suggests we go meet these migrant workers. But after we've been driving for a few minutes, he receives a call. We're being followed by Moroccan security services. After a few detours, we finally reach an apartment hidden from view. A man and a woman are waiting for us. Without residence permits or employment contracts, they claim to be harvesting vegetables destined for foreign markets. Both describe very difficult working conditions and say they have to spray pesticides, sometimes with their bare hands. "We often get sick. We're not protected," they explain.

After our filming, we attempted to contact the company that employs them. But neither they nor the local producers' association responded to our requests. In Morocco, the tomato industry is a flagship that doesn't want to divulge some of its manufacturing secrets.