In Dhivehi, listening has always been more than a passive act. We say “adu ehen” or “adu ivun” for hearing. But the phrase most parents use is “adu ahaabala” – listen, take it to heart, obey; carries not just the sense of hearing, but of complying.
For generations, Maldivian children have grown up with adu ahaabala echoing in their ears. To listen was to obey. A good listener was a quiet child: one who did not speak up, who did not question, who did not voice what they felt or thought.
Respect was measured in silence.
The Carry-Over Into Workplaces
This way of listening did not stay in our homes. It followed us into adulthood and into our workplaces. In many offices across our islands, listening still means not questioning your boss, not offering an alternative view, not rocking the boat.
Speaking in meetings: except to agree with the majority; is frowned upon. Groupthink is treated as discipline.Leaders feel secure when everyone nods. Employees feel safe when they blend into the crowd. The system runs, but it does not thrive.
Yes, obedience brings order. But silent listening drains creativity, kills trust, and stifles courage. It leaves leaders surrounded by echoes, not ideas. Workplaces remain disciplined but lifeless. Families stay quiet but distant.
A Shift in the Tide
But something is changing.
The younger generation is not satisfied with listening defined as obedience. They are seeking something more meaningful. They want their parents to listen to understand them: not only to correct them. They want their bosses to hear their perspective, not just their compliance.
They are demanding that listening be mutual. That dignity flows both ways.
In truth, this is not rebellion. It is a restoration. It is a return to the deeper meaning of listening: to be present, to give space, to honor another person’s voice. It is listening as connection, not control.
What Parents Can Do
Maldivian parents hold deep love for their children. But love must learn a new language. Our children no longer thrive when respect is measured only in obedience. They need homes where they can express their feelings without fear, where their opinions are not dismissed as disrespect, and where questions are welcomed, not punished.
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ himself listened with patience even to children. He did not equate listening with silence. He modeled listening as compassion. Our faith teaches us that Allah hears even the whispers of our souls.
Should we not also train our hearts to listen with such care?
What Leaders Must Embrace
For leaders, the shift is just as urgent.
Maldivian workplaces need listening that goes beyond “do as you are told.” They need leaders who invite dissent, who make space for diverse voices, who see disagreement not as disloyalty but as a path to better decisions.
Listening in leadership is not about control. It is about connection. It is about creating psychological safety: a culture where people speak up without fear. Without that, our workplaces will continue to run in circles of groupthink, missing the creativity and energy of our youth.
Toward a Culture of Understanding
Listening in the Maldives is at a crossroads. On one side is the old path: listening as obedience, silence, compliance. On the other is the path our young are pointing to: listening as understanding, dignity, and connection.
If we choose the old path, we risk losing the voices of a generation. If we embrace the new, we unlock creativity, trust, and hope for our families and our organizations.
The tide is shifting. The young are already showing us the way. The question is: are we willing to listen?
Smile and let smile
Smile and Let Smile 