News Desk
The Maldives has long punched above its weight in education, spending 4.58% of its GDP on the sector in 2022—outpacing South Asia’s average of 3.7% and the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation’s (OIC) 3.5–4% benchmark.
That’s ahead of Pakistan’s 2.51%, Bangladesh’s 2–2.5%, and even Indonesia’s 3.5% among OIC peers. It sits just below India’s 4.64% and Turkey’s 4.4% but ahead of Sri Lanka (2.8%) and Qatar (3.6%). Not bad for a small island nation whose economy runs on tourism.
The results are tangible: a 96% literacy rate, far higher than Pakistan’s 59.3% or Bangladesh’s 74%. Schools are being built, children are learning. But here’s the problem: President Dr. Mohamed Muizzu, in office since November 2023, seems more focused on nationalist rhetoric than preparing the Maldives for the future. His speeches hammer home themes of sovereignty, independence, national flag and “Maldives first,” but rarely mention STEM education, workforce development, or the existential threats looming over this low-lying nation.
At 4.58% of GDP, the Maldives’ education spending sits in a respectable middle ground. Bhutan leads the region at 6.6%, with Nepal at 5.1%, while Pakistan and Bangladesh lag behind. In the OIC, Malaysia (5%) and Saudi Arabia (5.1%) invest slightly more, while Uzbekistan’s 6% sets the benchmark. Still, the Maldives outspends Nigeria (1.5–2%) and Pakistan (2.51%), holding its own within its regional blocs.
But spending is only part of the equation. Where the money goes matters. The Maldives’ economy revolves around tourism—hospitality, service jobs—not exactly a sector demanding cutting-edge innovation. Meanwhile, India is making strides in digital education, Malaysia is investing heavily in STEM, and even Bhutan is producing graduates prepared for careers beyond hospitality. If the Maldives rests on its literacy laurels, it risks falling behind.
For all his focus on national pride, Dr. Muizzu has yet to articulate a vision for education that meets the challenges of the 21st century. Climate change threatens to swallow entire islands, yet there’s little emphasis on STEM, critical thinking, or future-proofing the workforce. No major curriculum reforms. No push to upskill teachers. No national strategy to integrate digital tools into classrooms.
Pakistan, often criticized for its sluggish progress, is at least having the conversation. Ahsan Iqbal, a former minister, recently outlined URAAN—a plan to modernize education with STEM-focused curricula, teacher training hubs, and technology integration. The Maldives could use a similar approach. Its universities churn out degrees, but without rigorous quality control—global accreditation, skills-based training—those fancy diplomas risk losing value. Are graduates truly job-ready, or are they just collecting paper souvenirs?
The Maldives is an archipelago, with students scattered across remote islands. Shouldn’t there be a benchmark to assess and categorize island schools, ensuring schools and students in remote islands aren’t left behind? Shouldn’t Muizzu’s Education Minister, Dr. Ismail, be tracking island schools the way Pakistan uses its Education Performance Index (DEPIx)? Right now, Male’ gets all the attention, while students in Laamu or Gaafu Dhaalu risk being left behind. Without data, there’s no accountability. Without accountability, there’s no progress.
The Maldives still holds an edge: relatively high education spending, strong literacy rates, and a young population. But that edge is dulling. It’s spending less than Bhutan (6.6%) or Malaysia (5%), and it’s not adapting fast enough to a future where tourism alone won’t sustain the economy.
Muizzu’s nationalist messaging may rally crowds, but it won’t stop rising sea levels or prepare Maldivians for a world that demands more than resort jobs. It’s time for a course correction—revamp curricula to emphasize STEM and critical thinking, train teachers for the digital age, equip students with tablets and technology, and hold universities and schools to measurable, international standards. If not, the Maldives may find itself with a generation of graduates holding diplomas no one trusts—and no backup plan when the tide rises.
