There are moments when a society needs to pause, step back, and ask itself a simple question: have we become so accustomed to certain absurdities that we no longer recognize them as absurd?

What troubles me is not only the existence of these problems, but the way we have gradually accepted them as normal. We shrug our shoulders and move on, as though things could not possibly be otherwise. Yet many of the realities we tolerate today do seem overtly outrageous.

Take our electoral system. Why do we continue relying on population figures from a census conducted in 1972 to allocate parliamentary seats? If a doctor attempted to cure a patient using medical tests carried out more than 50 years ago, would we consider this normal? Populations change. Communities evolve. How can democratic representation remain fair when it is based on data that belongs to another era?

Then there is the widening gulf in incomes. We often pride ourselves on living in an egalitarian society, yet some individuals earn over a million rupees a month while others struggle to survive on Rs 20,000. Is it really rational to believe that one person’s contribution to society is worth 50 times that of another, let alone hundreds of times more? Certainly, talent, responsibility and expertise deserve reward. But at what point does inequality cease to be reasonable and become excessive?

Surely it is time to re-evaluate how we value different occupations. Society showers prestige upon certain professions while taking others for granted. Yet try finding a plumber, an electrician or a skilled tradesperson at short notice. It is easier to lay hands on a lawyer than someone available to repair a leaking pipe or restore electricity to a house. Are our priorities truly aligned with our practical needs?

The same imbalance is visible in the arts. Singers, musicians and creative artists shape culture and inspire entire generations, yet many struggle financially. Mauritius did witness a tragic example in 1999. Kaya, arguably one of the greatest musical talents the country has ever produced, reportedly lacked the means to secure his release and died in detention. A nation that celebrates artists only after their death has learned the wrong lesson.

We also need the courage to discuss representation within public institutions. In the police force, some communities remain noticeably underrepresented. Does this not cause problems in areas where law enforcement must operate among populations whose ethnic composition is not adequately reflected within that police force? Trust between communities is not built solely through uniforms, regulations and parades before dignitaries on our national TV. It is built through representation, understanding and legitimacy.

Then comes the issue that everyone speaks about in whispers: drugs.

Mauritius is a small island. Yet identifying and dismantling the networks behind drug trafficking appear to be extraordinarily difficult. We are repeatedly told that complex legal issues are involved. Ordinary citizens cannot help but wonder. How is it possible that the masterminds remain so hard to pin down? Why do certain stores selling luxury items continue operating year after year despite attracting so few customers? Why do individuals displaying extraordinary wealth often seem visible to everyone except the authorities? These are questions that deserve answers, not dismissal.

Education presents another troubling paradox. Our system remains excessively selective and elitist. Only a small percentage of students ultimately reach Higher School Certificate level. What of the others? Can a civilized society continue to write off children at the age of 10, 11 or 12 simply because they do not fit neatly into an academic mould?

The consequences are often lifelong. Many of these youngsters come from already disadvantaged backgrounds. Rejection at school is followed by exclusion from employment. Even jobs requiring minimal qualifications remain out of reach. When hundreds apply and only a tiny number succeed, frustration inevitably grows. What sense is there in penalizing individuals for an accident of birth–or as we say in our savoury Kreol, “parski zot finn mal né”? Has the countdown to the next social flare-up already started?

Finally, let us consider water.

Year after year, we endure shortages. Year after year, the same discussions return. Technically sophisticated but ecologically unfriendly solutions such as desalination plants are inevitably brought up. Meanwhile, a substantial proportion of treated water is lost through leaks in ageing infrastructure. Shouldn’t common sense dictate that we first repair the bucket before spending fortunes trying to pour more water into it? Replacing old pipes may not be glamorous. It may need to be done gradually. But surely it is more logical, economical and environmentally responsible than producing expensive water only to watch it disappear underground.

These issues are not acts of nature. They are human choices. And what human beings have created, human beings can change.

The first step is refusing to accept the unacceptable. Progress begins when citizens stop mistaking habit for wisdom and tradition for common sense. It begins when we challenge practices that have gone unquestioned for too long.

Surprisingly, the greatest obstacle to progress is not poverty, inefficiency or discrimination. It is the ingrained belief that these things are inevitable. They are not. And until we stop considering normal what is abnormal, Mauritius will continue to pay the price for its indifference.