The other day, I reached for a sweet while driving. And, truth to be told, not just reached. A treasure hunt as I rummaged through my handbag, unwrapped the honey-and-lemon lozenge and popped it in my mouth. And all the while cruising between third and fourth gear on a deserted road in Gozo.

A fleeting moment you might say, but still one in which I half-expected a police or LESA car to materialise, lights blazing, and a stern officer waving me down. But then it occurred to me: it’s just a sweet, not a mobile phone. Nobody’s out there enforcing the ‘Caramel Code’.

Had I been searching for a fountain pen or fiddling with the radio, I’d have been just as invisible to the authorities. Completely under their radar. But the moment you so much as graze your mobile phone – even to check the time –it’s game over. Cue a €200 fine and a day (at least) ruined.

To be fair, I’ve been caught before. Earlier this year, and, yes, the police were absolutely right to charge me. I was texting while driving – a textbook no-no. For a couple of seconds, I was not in control of my vehicle. Things could have ended badly. I was taught a lesson.

But, like many things in life, there’s nuance. There’s a world of difference between holding a phone and using a phone dangerously. Quickly checking the time or propping it up listen to a voice message or navigate Google Maps is not the same as being thumb-deep in a group chat, searching for the perfect emoji.

And, yet, the absurdity persists. With one hand on the steering wheel, the other cradling a Big Mac or Whopper... who cares? But a mobile phone? The second you so much as look at it, it’s treated like radioactive contraband.

So, this is where police discretion should come into play. We don’t need over-zealous officers nitpicking technicalities and ruining someone’s day by sweating the small stuff. What we need are officers who focus on the real dangers. The kind who can tell the difference between a driver harmlessly holding a phone and one filming a TikTok mid-roundabout.

These same officers should be confronting the big hazards. Like JV Infrastructure Limited, the private contractor who recently left an unauthorised skip on a blind corner of the Xemxija bypass. A single reckless act that turned an already treacherous stretch of road into a death trap. It’s gross negligence like this that demands an immediate and uncompromising response, not a ‘tick-box’ slap on the wrist.

Similarly, truck drivers hauling unsecured or hazardous materials (think oil, olive paste or gravel) frequently leave trails of destruction in their wake. Overloaded vehicles, precarious cargo, unauthorised obstructions are the violations that create real danger. Lives depend on proper oversight and enforcement. Yet, here in Malta, where uneven roads often mirror the uneven enforcement of safety laws, a motorist might be fined for a minor parking violation while glaring red flags are ignored.

The tragic death of Dieter Vink, the 54-year-old British motorcyclist who succumbed to injuries two days after crashing into that JV Infrastructure skip, is yet another stark reminder of the cost of inaction. Friends, acquaintances and even people like me – strangers who never had the privilege of meeting Dieter – are furious. Another life cut short because someone, a contractor no less, chose to disregard basic safety standards, while the system once again failed to hold anyone to account.

Contractors’ recklessness and callous disregard for human life have caused untold suffering, yet, accountability remains a distant dream- Michela Spiteri

Dieter’s loss is made even harder to bear knowing he was a warm, principled and kind man who was loved by all who knew him. His death echoes the heartache of so many other lovely people – Miriam Pace, Jean Paul Sofia, Maria Claire Lombardi – whose lives were senselessly ended by an inept system. What all these tragedies share is this one devastating truth: they were entirely preventable. These lives would not have been lost if only things were done properly in this country, and, in this instance, the negligence of contractors robustly dealt with.

In Malta, contractors have become synonymous with destruction. They command neither respect nor admiration, only contempt. Time and again, they bulldoze, both literally and metaphorically, through people’s homes, lives and futures. Their recklessness and callous disregard for human life have caused untold suffering, yet, accountability remains a distant dream.

These deaths were not genuine accidents.

They were not random, freakish and unavoidable but the direct result of a system that prioritises cronyism, profit over safety, expedience over humanity  and impunity over justice.

How many more lives must be sacrificed before meaningful change is made?

The way this industry operates is despicable and it’s time we demand better, not just for the victims and their grieving families but for all of us who live under its oppressive shadow.

For every high-profile tragedy like the ones mentioned here, there are countless small-scale injustices and daily indignities that go unnoticed and unreported. There are the people who endure years of relentless construction, the deafening sound of jackhammers from 7am to 6pm, Monday through Saturday, unable to open their windows or find a moment’s peace.

There are the others who put up with incessant noise from the flat above, or the flat below, or out in the street, while they themselves suffer silently and timidly.

What kind of life is that? Why should anyone be forced to consider moving out in a final desperate attempt at self-preservation? These so-called ‘minor’ inconveniences all have a cumulative effect and they are in effect part of the same broader pattern: negligence and a systemic failure to enforce standards.

So, please, officer, no more ‘blind’ eyes. Act the moment you observe a skip carelessly dumped on a blind corner by a well-known contractor. The ‘rule of law’ is at stake, at the very least, and – who knows? – your vigilance might even save a life.

You alone have the on-the-spot authority. Isn’t that what real policing is all about?