For nearly a decade, the Franco-Tunisian biotechnology company nextProtein has been viewed by its international backers as a model of green innovation in North Africa, turning organic waste into high-value animal feed using black soldier fly larvae. But in the span of a single week in October 2026, that carefully cultivated image has been shattered by a regulatory shutdown, violent protests, a fatal road accident, and an arson attack that has left its expansion plans in ruins and raised troubling questions about the oversight of foreign-funded industrial projects in Tunisia.
The crisis, which had been simmering for months, reached a tragic crescendo on the evening of 21 October when a major fire destroyed the company’s second production site in Menzel Bouzelfa, a town in the Nabeul governorate. The facility, which was in the equipment assembly phase and had not yet begun production, was gutted by an intrusion and subsequent blaze. No one was injured, but the destruction was total. The fire came just hours after a man from the local community, identified as Houssein Dridi, a father of six, was killed in a road accident near the site — an incident that local protesters claim involved a vehicle leaving a company event. nextProtein has expressed its condolences but insists the accident occurred on the public road, strictly outside its perimeter, and has denounced the spread of what it calls “false news” regarding the incident.
A Regulatory Reversal and a Community in Revolt
The violence was the culmination of weeks of escalating tension. On 16 October, the governor of Nabeul issued a decree suspending operations and revoking the operating license for nextProtein’s original site in Grombalia — a unit that had been operational since 2020 and employed 70 workers. The company says it received the decision without prior communication and has appealed the ruling in court, arguing the license was legally obtained in May 2025 following a rigorous process.
The suspension order was a victory for local residents and environmental groups who had been protesting for months. At the heart of their concerns is the environmental and public health impact of the facility. The Tunisian Forum for Economic and Social Rights (FTDES) has warned of “potential environmental and health risks,” citing nauseating odours, the release of pollutants, and the potential infiltration of contaminants into the water table in the agricultural region. The FTDES has also raised questions about the legal classification of the project, suggesting a possible discrepancy between its registered activity as an animal feed producer and its classification as a waste recovery unit to obtain environmental permits.
nextProtein has consistently defended its operations, stating that its Grombalia pilot unit has been “environmentally respectful” for six years and that its Menzel Bouzelfa site was designed to meet all regulatory requirements. It has accused its detractors of waging a deliberate campaign of “inexact, slanderous and defamatory allegations”.
The Geopolitics of a Green Venture
The conflict has also exposed the high-stakes financial and geopolitical interests behind the company. nextProtein, founded in 2015 by Tunisian entrepreneurs Mohamed Gastli and Cyrine Chaalala, is headquartered in France but operates its production base in Tunisia. In November 2025, it secured €18 million in funding to accelerate its industrial expansion, attracting high-profile investors including the UK government’s development finance institution, British International Investment (BII).
BII’s investment, part of a broader £1.75 billion portfolio, was intended to support the construction of a facility capable of producing 12,000 tons of insect-based ingredients per year. The UK-backed financier framed the project as a climate solution, reducing pressure on marine ecosystems and deforestation linked to soy production.
However, the project has drawn criticism from other quarters. In the UK, campaign group Bryant Research has argued that British taxpayer money should not be gambled on a “high-risk sector,” pointing to what it describes as “deeply questionable” environmental claims for insect farming and a spate of bankruptcies in the industry. The group has urged the UK government to block the investment.
A Vacuum of Authority
The events in Tunisia have also highlighted a troubling dynamic: a perceived silence from local and national authorities that has allowed rumours and tensions to fester. According to critics, the official silence in the face of a crisis touching on citizens’ lives, environment, and property has created a vacuum in which conflicting narratives — from established facts to unconfirmed accusations — can flourish. This lack of transparent communication has been a recurring theme, from the opaque nature of the license suspension to the conflicting accounts of the fatal accident.
For now, the Grombalia site remains suspended, its workers having staged a protest in front of the Nabeul governorate to demand the annulment of the decision and to defend their livelihoods. The Menzel Bouzelfa site, once touted as a flagship of the green economy, is a charred shell. In a statement seen by Launch Base Africa, the company has vowed to pursue legal action against what it calls a defamation campaign, while its international investors survey the damage.
The Fragile Domino
The nextProtein saga in Tunisia has become a warning tale about the friction between global climate finance and local realities — a clash between the promise of a bio-economy and the raw, sometimes violent, politics of land, regulation, and public trust. But it is far from an isolated case. Across Africa and Europe, a pattern is repeating with alarming regularity, as green ventures that attracted billions in development finance collide with the hard edges of state sovereignty, infrastructure failure, and regulatory reversals.
Just months before the Tunisian crisis, a similar collision unfolded in Kenya, where the clean-cooking company Koko Networks collapsed after the government refused to grant it authorization to sell carbon credits in regulated compliance markets. Koko, which served over 1.5 million households, filed for administration in January 2026 after at least eight months of government indecision over a required Letter of Authorization under Article 6 of the Paris Agreement. The collapse wiped out $300 million in investor value — despite a nearly $180 million guarantee from the World Bank’s Multilateral Investment Guarantee Agency — leaving a million households without a cleaner cooking alternative.
The insect protein sector, in which nextProtein operates, has been particularly brutal. In South Africa, Cape Town-based Inseco ceased operations and sold its assets in 2025. Its managing director, Simon Hazell, attributed the collapse to recurring four-hour power outages that hammered production, alongside a broader macroeconomic environment where investor confidence and offtake dropped sharply. In Europe, France’s Ÿnsect — which had raised over €600 million and was once a flagship of the sector — entered judicial liquidation in December 2025, unable to secure the capital needed to sustain its industrial-scale operations.
In Tunisia, the friction turned violent, culminating in a fatal accident and arson. In Kenya, South Africa, and France, it was resolved through insolvency. For the international development institutions and venture funds that have poured capital into these ventures, the lessons are stark: the green transition is not merely a technical or financial challenge, but a deeply political one, where the rules of the game can change overnight, and where the consequences of a regulatory impasse can be measured not just in lost returns, but in lost lives and livelihoods.