Glittering expos and empty shelves mock a suffering public

There is certainly nothing wrong with hosting grand public exhibitions, nor is it a crime to entertain the populace or spread vital awareness about healthy living.

The true scandal lies in the sudden evaporation of fundamental medical services that the public once counted on without a second thought, abandoning people to sheer agony over absent pharmaceuticals.

The ordeal an ordinary person must now endure merely to lay their hands on a single tablet has turned unbearable. Things have sunk so low that ordinary citizens are reduced to pleading for charity and favors from state ministers and lawmakers and prominent tycoons and the rich elite. It remains a grim daily humiliation that residents must comb through every single pharmacy counter across the capital city of Malé hunting down drugs that were once routine stock, or else drain their personal savings to fly them in from overseas at staggering prices because national shelves have run completely bare.

This disastrous shortage is actively putting human bodies on the line. When prescribed doses are nowhere to be found, countless sick individuals find themselves buying over-strength tablets just to break them in two, taking their chances with imprecise home splitting.

Worse still, the utter absence of the reputable, original pharmaceutical brands that families have relied on for years has forced patients to swallow unverified knock-offs or inferior-grade substitutes, leaving the public terrified over the long-term consequences to their bodies.

To call the situation an outright prescription emergency that struck almost immediately after President Dr. Mohamed Muizzu took power is simply stating an unvarnished truth. The current administration has thrown out deadline after deadline promising a fix, but not a single convincing remedy has materialized.

Just recently, Health Minister Geela Ali went on record pledging that a lasting end to the drug shortage would arrive before the close of November. But here we are, watching November slip away day by day, without a single shred of evidence that relief is actually coming.

Against this desperate backdrop, the authorities opted to pour substantial state funds into staging an opulent gathering across Hulhumalé Central Park between November 5 and November 7. Designated as the Maldives Health and Family Expo 2026 and operating under the sunny banner of advancing a healthy and happy generation together, the spectacle was formally launched with great pomp by the incumbent himself.

The three-day spectacle marketed itself as a campaign to dispense genuine wellness counsel, encourage sound lifestyle choices and educate communities on warding off illness. More than 60 parties spanning the health landscape, from urban medical centers in Malé to regional facilities across the outer atolls, assembled to staff information counters and orchestrate vibrant festivities for audiences of every generation.

But beneath all the fanfare, an uncomfortable reality demands an answer. Did this extravagant public show offer even an ounce of comfort to the everyday agonies confronting ordinary folk? Precisely what tangible benefit was gained here? Did it magically restock empty pharmacy drawers across the country? What solace does a cheerful booth provide to vulnerable islanders in the outer atolls who can no longer access simple diagnostic lab work that used to be routine in their own local clinics?

Flashy celebrations and colorful festivals are the absolute last thing this country is begging for right now.

What regular people are really demanding is the basic dignity of picking up a doctor’s prescription without turning into beggars. They want proper laboratory diagnostics functioning smoothly right at home on their own native islands.

They expect a healthcare system where booking a hospital consultation does not feel like an impossible uphill battle. Beyond that, they expect the authorities to pick up the pace and finish constructing the modernized hospitals and upgraded local health centers throughout the outer islands, so those buildings can open their doors and treat sick patients.

With people currently stripped of their most fundamental entitlements to care, one is left wondering whether this wildly lavish extravaganza was anything more than a deliberate spectacle to divert eyes from systemic decay.

At the end of the day, not a single glittering pageant can ever make up for the deteriorating health and endangered lives of the Maldivian people.