Governing ghosts as bureaucratic bloat spills onto deserted shores

The endless conversation regarding this administration’s political patronage machine has completely worn out its welcome. President Dr. Mohamed Muizzu originally sold the public on a solemn guarantee that political positions would strictly cap at 700.

Naturally, that threshold is long gone, with current appraisals putting the actual payroll tally somewhere between one and two thousand names.

Fresh roles continue to be handed out with abandon across practically every administrative tier and state body.

Erasing an island on paper

The newest twist in this relentless hiring spree borders on pure parody. Back in December 2025, President Muizzu resolved to uproot the community of HDh. Hirimaradhoo and shift everyone over to Hanimaadhoo within the very same atoll.

Hirimaradhoo was promptly demoted to nothing more than a suburban ward of Hanimaadhoo, effectively wiping away its standing as a standalone populated island. Every bureaucratic protocol fell in line with the decree.

When local council ballots were cast this past April, Hirimaradhoo was denied a council of its own, forcing its people to cast their votes for the Hanimaadhoo Council instead.

Forgotten people and shifting priorities

However despite the government’s paperwork shuffling, actual humans still remain on the ground. Accounts show that while the territory is formally classified as unpopulated, those holding out are enduring genuinely harsh circumstances.

Unsurprisingly, their struggle seems to barely register on the administration's list of priorities.

Rewarding party loyalists with empty desks

Instead, word broke on Sunday detailing how two people landed fresh political postings explicitly assigned to Hirimaradhoo.

A pair of loyalists from the governing People’s National Congress found themselves crowned as Political Directors through the Ministry of Youth, each walking away with a monthly paycheck of MVR 20,000.

These hires have been ordered to carry out their duties straight from Hirimaradhoo itself, stationed inside the former council headquarters.

To top it off, the Hanimaadhoo Council received direct instructions to smooth the way and handle the workplace logistics for them inside that very structure.

Art of the absolute farce

Predictably, the revelation exploded across social media feeds and news bulletins. Handing out executive assignments on ground that the state itself claims nobody lives on has transformed into an instant source of public mockery.

Proclaiming a settlement completely abandoned while concurrently deploying ruling-party operatives to collect public salaries on its sands exposes an absurd contradiction.

One has to marvel at such an extraordinary display oentirf governance.