The Maldives government is finding itself on shaky ground with the recent introduction of the Food Advertising Regulations, enforced by the Maldives Food and Drug Authority (MFDA). Touted as a measure to set standards for food advertising, the regulations have instead sparked widespread criticism from the public and small businesses, who argue they are poorly thought-out and disproportionately burdensome. With steep fees, bureaucratic hurdles, and hefty fines, the policy has left many questioning whether the government—seemingly still on training wheels—fully considered the implications before rolling it out.
Under the new rules, anyone wishing to advertise food or beverage products must submit their materials—scripts, audio, video, or images—to the MFDA for approval via an online portal known as the ‘Dhirithi Portal’. Permits, once granted, last for three years but must be renewed, and any tweak to an approved advert requires a fresh application. The costs are eyebrow-raising: MVR 1,000 for a photo advert, MVR 1,500 for audio or video, and a whopping MVR 3,000 for energy drink promotions. If an advert is rejected, the non-refundable fee is lost, and resubmission means paying again. For small businesses and home-based entrepreneurs, many of whom rely on social media to hawk their wares, these fees are a bitter pill to swallow.
The backlash was swift. Critics pointed out the potential harm to home-based businesses, often run by women, arguing that the rules undermine rather than support these vital economic players. The fines for non-compliance only fuel the fire: MVR 10,000 for a first offence, escalating to a staggering MVR 500,000 for repeated violations. For a small café or a lone baker, such penalties could spell ruin.
The regulations’ rollout appeared to reflect a government still finding its footing. Initially, the MFDA’s announcement in the government gazette suggested that all food and beverage service providers needed approval for any advert—a demand that drew immediate ire for its impracticality. Small-time operators complained it was a time-consuming hassle, ill-suited to the fast-paced world of social media marketing. Sensing the brewing storm, the Ministry of Health scrambled to clarify on Saturday, 1 March 2025, that permission was only mandatory for adverts intended to “boost the popularity” of a product. Routine posts about availability—like a restaurant touting its daily specials—were exempt, while competitive ads drawing comparisons with rivals still required approval. The U-turn, while welcome, smacked of a policy patched together on the fly.
Critics argue this fiasco exposes a deeper issue: a government that’s yet to master the art of balancing regulation with economic reality. The Maldives, a nation heavily reliant on tourism and small-scale entrepreneurship, can ill afford to stifle its grassroots businesses. According to a 2023 report by the Asian Development Bank, small and medium enterprises (SMEs) account for over 80% of employment in the Maldives, yet they often operate on razor-thin margins. Piling on costly red tape risks choking an already fragile sector, especially when the benefits of such stringent oversight remain unclear. What, exactly, is the MFDA trying to protect consumers from—misleading claims about a fish curry?
The fees, too, raise eyebrows when viewed in context. With the average monthly wage in the Maldives hovering around MVR 10,000 per World Bank data, a single energy drink advert permit equates to nearly a third of that. For a home-based baker or an online food retailer, the choice between paying for an advert or covering rent could be stark. The MFDA has yet to explain how these sums were calculated or whether they considered the financial strain on smaller players.
This isn’t the first time the Maldives government has stumbled. The Food Advertising Regulations feel like déjà vu—a well-intentioned idea, perhaps, but one that betrays a lack of groundwork. The ‘Dhirithi Portal’ may streamline applications for some, but for many less tech-savvy entrepreneurs, it’s yet another hurdle in a policy riddled with them.
The government’s climbdown on Saturday shows it’s listening—at least somewhat. But the damage is done. Trust has been dented, and the impression lingers of a regime still wobbling on training wheels, unsure how to steer without veering into controversy. For now, small businesses are left counting the cost, both literal and figurative, of a regulation that seems more half-baked than the goods they’re trying to sell. If the Maldives wants to nurture its economy rather than nag it to death, it might be time to ditch the rulebook and start afresh.
