Success is valued in salary and amount of vacations per year

I was thinking today about what success means here. Someone said it's measured in salary and vacations per year, and I felt that truth deep in my bones. We're all chasing that government job, that stable paycheck, because what else is there? The sea doesn't pay like it used to, and tourism jobs feel like serving someone else's dream. They're changing overtime rules again. Two hours less pay for civil servants, dressed up as a 'small salary hike.' We see through it. We always see through it. The math doesn't work when fish prices drop and rent in Malé keeps climbing. You work those extra hours anyway because what choice do you have? Disgust doesn't matter when your family needs rice on the table. And the political stuff—it's exhausting. They shame the youth for caring, then wonder why we're apathetic. I watched that football thing on TV, presidents in office shoes versus full kits, and we're supposed to care which one looks more 'modest'? Meanwhile, the real game is who gets land in Malé, whose nephew gets the promotion. Sometimes I wonder if we've forgotten how to dream beyond survival. The rallies, the courtesy calls at Muleeaage, the live TV moments people clip and share—it all feels like theater while we're out here trying to make rent. They design the system to keep us tired, to make activism feel like a luxury we can't afford. But still, somewhere deep, that fire flickers. The youth who organize despite the shame, the workers who show up even when the rules change against them. Maybe success isn't just salary and vacations. Maybe it's keeping that small flame of hope alive when everything tells you to let it die.