The main ruling People’s National Congress’ (PNC) grand rally was meant to be Muizzu’s defining spectacle, his chance to command the national stage with the largest political gathering ever assembled. No effort was spared. Money flowed on a scale unseen in Maldivian political history, with some claiming that MVR 50 or even 60 million were poured into the event. Flights were scheduled endlessly to ferry supporters from the islands. Launches arrived in Malé City packed with people even as the rally was beginning. For the first time, the largest aircraft in Maldivian’s fleet flew to Addu solely for the purpose of transporting attendees.

The spending ran into the millions, and the full weight of the government’s influence was deployed. Critics suddenly shifted their tone. Movie stars and singers were handed jobs and, in turn, rewrote their public stances to appear in the rally’s promotional campaigns. Muizzu and his government orchestrated all of this to create a record-breaking show of strength, one designed to drown out dissenting voices, redirect public attention and convince the nation of the administration’s accomplishments as it completed two years in office.

The rally went ahead, but not before a last-minute redesign of the stage backdrop, which had been criticized for resembling two tombstones. Muizzu declared that 13,000 people attended. Those who actually counted estimated the figure closer to 5,000.

Nearly a week has passed since this “grand” rally, and yet silence surrounds it. There is no enduring conversation, no praise for Muizzu’s achievements and no excitement about attendance. Even his attempt to tug at public sentiment, including promises to slash electricity bills to MVR 400 for the coming fasting month of Ramadan and distribute cases of canned tuna, vanished without a trace. Within days, the energy of the rally evaporated entirely.

But one part of the night survived. One story overtook every platform, every news feed and every comment thread. It was not the rally’s turnout, nor Muizzu’s promises. It was the dramatic, emotionally charged speech delivered by Heena Waleed, the Aasandha MD and Chief Spokesperson at the President’s Office. What many now call “the Heena drama” became the only lasting imprint of the event.

Observers say Heena had been waiting for the perfect moment to respond to the controversy surrounding a TV set allegedly procured by Aasandha. This was her chance to strike back at the statements made at Yameen’s PNF rallies, the same Yameen she once fiercely supported. She seized the stage. Without naming names, she lashed out at Yameen and his circle, leveling every insult she could muster. PNC supporters saw it as a full-scale retaliatory strike.

In doing so, Heena played what many described as the “woman card,” claiming she was being targeted because of her gender. She tied the criticism to her health condition, alleging that the opposition was attacking her over it, framing the situation as something beneath the bounds of decency.

And that is exactly why people began talking. Not because they were attacking Heena personally and not because she is a woman, but because they were criticizing the conduct of someone in her position. They argued that anyone, man or woman, in such a high-ranking political role must expect scrutiny. If the opportunity for criticism had not been created, the public would have had nothing to comment on. The taunts would not have materialized.

Her mention of her health condition drew further attention. Maldivians cannot be considered cruel people; they do not mock illness or disability. What they spoke about was the suffering of others with similar health issues, how much harder their lives become if Aasandha or NSPA fail them. They talked about the burdens faced by families, the anxieties that come with navigating treatment. The criticism was directed not at Heena personally, but at the MD of Aasandha, the person responsible for these systems.

Despite the rally fading from public memory, talk of Heena’s performance has not ceased. It continues to spread across platforms, dominating conversations day after day. Its shadow has fallen directly over Muizzu’s million-Rufiyaa spectacle, overshadowing every achievement he hoped to highlight. The rally he built to set a grand record has instead become a monumental flop, drowned out entirely by Heena’s dramatic outburst.

And so the legacy of Muizzu’s MVR 50 million rally is not triumph, not strength or record-breaking glory. It is Heena’s drama, overshadowing, overwhelming and ultimately undoing the event he spent so much to create.