boomers and older-millennials often love to call upon the ‘zuvaanun’ as if they’re some kind of hive-mind monolith that can be mobilised at will. this is stupid.
almost all of us actively online can be classified into the cultural elites (including myself): not only are most of us malé citizens who have had broader access to resources and systems of wealth, but many of us are also labour aristocrats and petty bourgeoisies. if you’re actively online (or able to be actively online even if you choose not to), you are most likely in this category in the maldives.
i’m not talking about resort owners, high-profile politicians, large-scale rentiers, birthright ‘beyfulhun’, etc. — that’s a whole different class on its own.
many people have close proximities to politicians via relation or friendship; are children or relatives of business owners, store owners, small-time politicians, media figures, etc.; own places that they rent or have family members with rental income; work in politics, law, and non-governmental organisations by the blessing of relatives and family members in the industry; and so on. hey, you can’t help it, huh? fate decides birth, and this city is just so small.
at least one of these things would apply to you if you’re reading this online via instagram, twitter, or whatever else. if not, you are in a very small minority.

this stratification is not something I just arbitrarily decided, it was documented in the past by elizabeth colton (1995) and xavier romero-frias (1999), and even recently in 2022 by the world bank: our dynamics of income stratification a vastly different compared to other upper middle-income capitalist economies. unless you were born, raised, educated, and employed in a non-malé city or, conversely, you are among the top 10% (high-level, non-sme businesses, resorts, prominent political families, and so on), whether you are more or less privileged than me, we are in the same domestic english-speaking political class.
feeling uncomfortable already? is privilege clocking to you yet? let me help you picture that. in maldives, by 2022 census data:
• national 1% means 3,828 people. can you picture 3,828 people in a single room? try it.
• national 10% means 38,275 people. that’s 27% more than our entire civil service employees in 2023, and almost 15% more than our State-owned enterprise employees.
now you tell me who’s who.
even among civil servants, there is such high variance in take home pay, where a good 15% Make a disproportionately large amount compared to the rest of the civil servants.
fun, isn’t it?
according to the world bank study, non-malé citizens are (obviously) more impoverished. according to 2022 census data, malé city’s population was 161,108 (the 2022 national ten-percent is, by juxtaposition, 23.76% of malé city’s population). that means about 68% of the population are non-malé populations. if you’re reading this, even if you were from another island, the chances are that you were born and raised in malé, and likely educated abroad in india, sri lanka, or malaysia at least once in your life. exceptions will be rare.
but what about relative poverty? again, look at that poverty and inequality study in the maldives:
• in atolls, the number of people below the national relative (not absolute) poverty line is ten times higher than in malé (p.20–21) — 93% of the country’s poor live in atolls.
• according to the world inequality database, in 2022, the top 10% (38,275 people) held a whopping, mind-screwing 58% of our wealth, while the bottom 50% (191,376 people) shared only a measly 4.8% of that wealth. the top 1% (3,828 people) held 23.4% of our national wealth. by deduction, then, the top 40% (stratified by world bank into two distinct groups) — 153,100 people — shared the remaining 37.2%. bear in mind that we rake in billions of dollars every year in foreign revenue.
• further, according to the world bank, the upper 10% (another 3,828 people) of the top 40% make a disproportionately higher rate than those in the lower tiers of that bracket (see p.46).
• the multi-dimensional poverty rate in atolls is 40.3% in atolls and only 9.6% in malé (p.36). more than half of our population, again, resides in the atolls. i want you to think about that. that is ridiculous.
• generally, people employed in the primary and secondary sector — and people that are self-employed in this sector, i.e., like fishing or farming, not running businesses — are disproportionately poorer than those in the tertiary industry. most people in the atolls are self-employed in the primary and secondary sector.
what does all this mean?
i’m not saying your struggles aren’t real, that you don’t suffer under capitalism, or that your suffering is invalid if you don’t fall into the bottom 50% bracket. what i’m trying to show you is that Maldives’ wealth distribution dynamics is different from other upper-middle income countries.
this is a privilege check: if you live in malé (and aren’t crammed into a small household); if you have familial proximity to people in malé politics and businesses (small or large); if you own your home (or have properties you can rent out) in malé; if you were able to afford a tertiary education without a loan; if you have a successful business (inherited or ground-up); if you work in career politics especially with the aid of familial ties to high-profile politicians — if any of these things apply to you — you are in the social elite of the maldives.
that especially applies if you have the time and resources to be constantly online.
Be careful what you wish for — you might get it

of course no one wants to hear this kind of thing. it’s so much easier to ignore your privileges, point at others (often within the same brackets as you) with slightly higher privilege and scream hypocrisy, and see yourself as part of a black-and-white ‘good guys’ fighting the ‘bad guys’. it absolves you of the uncomfortable reality of seeing past your struggles, no matter how big, and peering across class lines.
we look at the resort elites and we tend to think, “well, at least I’m not them” — but what about our own privileges? do we ever think about where we stand?
again, this is why i never personally hide my privileges or shy away from conversations of privilege. this is also why you will never hear me wax lyrically about how i’ve struggled to get to where i am (indeed i did work hard, but then again, all of you must have too, right?) or masquerade with a stupid rags-to-riches story, no matter how organically and honestly my parents ran their business either. capitalism is still capitalism.
conversations about privilege is hard. conversations about power is harder. it feels shameful, it feels uneasy, an it feels like a humiliation ritual. but if you ignore discussions about privilege, if you try to frame yourself as ‘one of the poor people’ when you clearly aren’t in our context, if you cannot validate your struggles without masking your privileges, then you are mired in hypocrisy and moral cowardice.
but of course, that doesn’t really stop anyone, does it?
especially when you’re campaigning for politics, you need your parties to be relatable. if you are a candidate, you especially would want to prove you’re just like the people you want to vote for you. equalising your privileges helps your conscience rest, doesn’t it? so, rather than confronting systems of privilege head-on, most people in this wealth bracket are too busy pointing fingers and playing poverty charades — especially online.
and don’t even get me started on ‘community’.
what community? you all hate each other. you can’t stand each other. almost every friend group is vehemently hostile and antagonistic towards others. of course there are exceptions to the rule like serial abusers and offenders who every friend group (even ones at odds with each other) have an abuse or assault story of and has an identifiable pattern of bad behaviour in their history, but those people are an exceptional minority.
the presence of the extremes doesn’t absolve you. most of you behave like you’ve never grown a day out of sixth grade. you lie, spread rumours, dogpile, bully, and sometimes even physically harm people just because you don’t like them or they disagree with you. a few of you exceptional ones are running out here serially, openly, and proudly hurting people. in your delusional minds, you and your friends/parties are ‘working class’ and/or ‘good’, and everyone else is ‘bad’.
and while you’re busy playing these immature games, the political 1% and their foreign colonial allies are robbing you blind and stripping this country naked. your inability to confront systems of privilege and power — your apathy towards fighting for the working classes and non-aristocrat labourers below you — will lead to this nation’s undoing.
perhaps these divisions, too, are an engineered outcome of capitalism and the economic centralisation we have in malé. too many god-damn people are crammed too close to each other with no way to get away from the ones that hurt us or communities we don’t like.
the economic collapse is nigh. it’s almost here. and when it comes, destiny will give you what you wished for — true economic poverty and suffering — and you’ll wish you’d never did. but don’t worry, those of us preparing to help us all survive such a struggle are doing so with even people like you in mind. we want to make sure all of us survive, and that all of us live to see a future where power games, corruption, and wealth inequality are a thing of the past.
why do i care about any of that? because if i want to live a quiet life away from most of you nutjobs, i need to first contribute to making sure this whole place isn’t on fire anymore, that restorative-preventative justice is finally established, and that we get to a society where i can actually feel content writing fiction instead of this stupid $#!t lol

