France Crisis: Children Trapped in Marseille’s Deadly Drug Violence

The children who found Adel’s body were on their way to school. His parents were walking to the police station to report him missing. What they did not know yet was that their 15-year-old son lay nearby on the ground, his body burned beyond recognition. Someone had filmed the killing. It was the newest video in a growing library of drug-related executions circulating online in Marseille, a city where violence has grown younger, faster, and far more brutal.
Adel died from a gunshot to the head. His killers then poured petrol on his body and set it alight. His death fitted a pattern that has become disturbingly common in Marseille’s evolving drug wars. Shoot first, burn later. Record it. Share it. Terrify everyone.
A gang member described the current state of the streets as simple chaos. He pulled up his shirt to show bullet scars. Four marks across his torso, each one a reminder of an attempted assassination.
“I have been in a gang since I was 15. But everything has changed now. The codes, the rules, there are no more rules. Nobody respects anything these days. The bosses start to use youngsters. They pay them peanuts. And they end up killing others for no real reason. It is anarchy, all over town,” he said. His nickname was The Immortal.
Across Marseille, people use the word psychose. It describes a kind of collective panic spreading through neighbourhoods that have lived with violence for years but now feel completely overwhelmed. Police, lawyers, youth workers and politicians all agree that the tension is rising. What they cannot agree on is how to stop it.
A local lawyer, who feared reprisals and asked to remain anonymous, said the shift in power was clear.
“It’s an atmosphere of fear. It is obvious that the drug traffickers are dominant and gaining more ground every day,” she said. “The rule of law is now subordinate to the gangs. Until we have a strong state again, we have to take precautions.”
She recently stopped representing victims of gang violence because she and her family no longer felt safe. Others working with young people have seen the same pattern. Community organiser Mohamed Benmeddour explained how children as young as 13 or 14 are pulled in as lookouts or dealers.
“There is so much competition in the drugs trade that people are ready to do anything. So we have kids aged 13 or 14 who come in as lookouts or dealers. The young see dead bodies; they hear about it every day. And they are no longer afraid of killing or being killed,” he said.
Why has Marseille’s panic reached a breaking point?
The tipping point came with the murder of Mehdi Kessaci, a 20-year-old trainee policeman who had no link to drugs. His death sent shock waves across the city because it appeared to be a warning to his brother, Ahmed Kessaci, a 22-year-old anti-gang activist and emerging political figure.
Now under tight police protection, Ahmed shared his grief and guilt.
“Should I have made my family leave Marseille? The struggle of my life is going to be this fight against guilt,” he said.
The Kessaci family has been devastated by gang violence for years. Ahmed’s older brother, Brahim, was killed in 2020. Since then, Ahmed has been vocal about drug-related violence. He said the change in the city’s atmosphere began around the pandemic.
“We have had this psychosis for years. We have known that our lives are hanging by a single thread. But everything changed since COVID. The perpetrators are getting younger and younger. The victims are younger and younger,” he said.
“My little brother was an innocent victim. There was a time when the real thugs had a moral code. You do not kill in the daytime. Not in front of everyone. You do not burn bodies. First you threaten with a shot to the leg. Today, these steps have all disappeared.”
Police have responded with what they call security bombardments. These large, heavily armed operations are meant to disrupt the most dangerous neighbourhoods. They target drug-dealing hotspots run by gangs like the DZ Mafia, a dominant group operating through smaller local distributors, many of whom are teenagers or undocumented migrants.
On a recent operation, riot police moved into a dilapidated building after receiving information about a drug-dealing point. As they arrived, a teenage lookout ran. Officers split up, climbing stairwells and calling commands. They pinned an 18-year-old against a door. Moments later, they found cocaine packaging in a nearby cellar.
One officer later explained that the young man had been begging to be taken away. He said he was being held against his will and forced to work.
“This is not El Dorado. We have a lot of youngsters recruited on social media. They come to Marseille thinking they will make easy money. They are promised €200 a day. But it often ends in misery, violence and sometimes death,” said the city’s chief prosecutor, Nicolas Bessone.
In his office overlooking the old harbour, Bessone said the drug industry is now worth as much as €7 billion across France. He described two major changes. Recruitment has shifted online, and the number of teenagers coerced into trafficking has surged.
“We now see how the traffickers enslave these little soldiers. They create fictional debts to make them work for free. They torture them if they steal €20 to buy a sandwich. It is ultra-violent. The average age of perpetrators and victims is getting younger and younger,” he said.
He urged residents to stay calm and not give in to fear.
A lawyer familiar with many gang cases described a disturbing example.
“One young person, who absolutely did not want to be part of a network, was picked up after school, forced to participate in the drugs trade, raped, then threatened, and then his family was also threatened. All means are used to create a workforce,” she said.
On TikTok, videos advertise drugs for sale with emojis indicating cocaine, hashish or marijuana. Others recruit new gang workers with posts that read “recruiting a worker”, “€250 for lookouts”, “€500 to carry drugs”.

How is Marseille responding to the rise in youth violence?
Opinions on solutions vary sharply. Some politicians, including far-right MP Franck Allisio, say the answer is stricter policing, tighter immigration rules and a state of emergency.
“Authority must be restored. We need to end a culture of permissiveness in our country. We need to give more freedom and more power to the police and the judiciary,” Allisio said.
He argued that traffickers and gang leaders are mostly immigrants or people with dual nationality, a claim many critics dispute. France does not collect data on ethnicity in crime statistics, making the statement impossible to verify.
Allisio said billions of euros had been invested in Marseille’s poorest areas but made little difference. He blamed parents, schools and a culture of tolerance for allowing children to fall into the drug trade.
His critics reject this. The unnamed lawyer who requested anonymity accused the National Rally party of exploiting fear and blaming immigrants for a problem affecting all communities in France. Writer and local expert Philippe Pujol, now under police protection himself, agreed that tougher policing alone would not solve the crisis.
“I am not sure if there is a good reason for this terror. But terror is taking hold. I would rather be afraid and careful than take unnecessary risks,” Pujol said.
He argued that poverty, exclusion and decades of political negligence have fed the violence.
“The monster is a mixture of patronage, corruption and political and economic decisions made against the public interest,” Pujol said.
He added that beneath the violent exterior many gang-involved teenagers project, they remain young people with unfulfilled dreams.
“These kids can be jerks when they are in a group, but when you are alone with them, they are still children with dreams who do not want this violence.”
By Lucky Anyanje
