News DeskMALÉ, Maldives — Beneath the sweltering February sun, Fathima, a resident of Malé, queued for hours, waiting not for luxury but for a government-promised Ramadan gift: a case of 48 cans of tuna. This initiative, ostensibly a gesture of solidarity for the holy month of Ramadan, has instead ignited widespread frustration, exposing deep societal grievances in the Maldives.
Announced by the Maldives Industrial Fisheries Company (MIFCO) and tied to President Dr. Mohamed Muizzu’s November 2024 pledge, the program aims to provide canned tuna worth 768 Maldivian rufiyaa (approximately $50) to every household. But the promise of support has been overshadowed by logistical failures, long waits, and mounting criticism over the undignified nature of the distribution process.
On social media, residents voiced their discontent. Shifana, a prominent commentator on X, lambasted the hours-long queues, questioning the value of professionals’ time and the government’s respect for its citizens. “If you want to gift a roadha hadhiya [Ramadan gift], don’t make people beg for it,” she wrote. Her post struck a nerve, sparking a wave of criticism labeling the process “inhumane” and “disgusting.”
The tuna distribution, while marketed as a gift, has been described by many as merely the redistribution of public tax money. Comparisons to past decades, when residents lined up for staples like flour and sugar, have reignited debates over the dignity of government aid.
Adding to the frustration is the requirement to present a three-month electricity bill as proof of residency, creating further hurdles for those seeking the gift. Chaotic scenes have been reported across Malé and Hulhumale’ forcing the government to expand distribution centers and send high-ranking officials, including Local Government Authority Minister Adam Shareef, to oversee the process.
Government officials defend the initiative, emphasizing its intent to support citizens during Ramadan. They highlighted that the tuna, sourced from the state-owned MIFCO, leverages the country’s rich fishing resources to provide a staple food.
“This is a meaningful contribution,” said an official, pointing to similar efforts last year that distributed over 1.6 million kilograms of food staples to 82,000 households.
Yet, the logistical shortcomings and the visible public dissatisfaction suggest deeper issues. Critics argue that the program’s execution undermines the government’s stated goals of solidarity and support. “The Maldives is marketed globally as a paradise, but for us, it’s long queues and bureaucratic humiliation,” wrote Aishath Liusha, another Maldivian on X.
The disparity between the Maldives’ idyllic image and the indignities of its citizens has never been starker. While tourists enjoy pristine beaches and luxury resorts, many Maldivians grapple with systemic inefficiencies and a sense of being undervalued by their own government.
Experts have pointed to global examples of efficient and dignified aid distribution. India’s digital Targeted Public Distribution System, the U.S.’s Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP), and Brazil’s cash transfer initiatives demonstrate how technology and community-based systems can streamline processes and uphold dignity.
For a nation where Islam is the state religion and Ramadan holds profound cultural significance, the tuna giveaway was intended as a gesture of unity. Instead, it has become a flashpoint for debates over governance, public trust, and the treatment of citizens.
As the government promises to learn from the backlash and improve future initiatives, Maldivians like Fathima are left wondering whether the cost of waiting, both in time and dignity, is a price worth paying for a so-called gift.
Residents of Malé queue for hours under the February sun to collect government-distributed Ramadan tuna cans, a gesture intended as support but criticized for its grueling process. : image social media:@HaathimIbrahim
