I’ve been feeling very tired. The thing is, it’s not the usual tiredness that you can get through after eight hours of sleep. I feel perpetually on my guard and what was once surprise and sadness at bad news has turned into molten anger and disgust. With every passing day comes some fresh version of one of Dante’s circles of hell and like a sponge that is too full of water, sometimes it feels like I can’t absorb anymore.
Almost a year ago, I wrote an article called ‘The Rape of Malta’, followed by other articles outlining the disaster that is our construction industry. Many of us have asked more than once what it’s going to take for us to respect the environment we live in, as well as enforce the laws in place when it comes to building.
And yet, in the past two weeks, it was made public that the waste that you will be fined for not separating is actually being all mixed together and thrown into one massive pile once it leaves your custody. Then, just two days ago, the unthinkable happened when a woman was literally murdered in her own home when an adjacent plot of land was excavated and her home collapsed.
My echo chamber on social media has made much of Miriam Pace’s death. There has been anger and outrage but there is also something else I couldn’t put my finger on till I sat down to write this: complacency. It would seem the exhaustion is not just mine; much of our anger is tempered with frustration and desensitisation.
Who do you turn to when the only people that can make the change are the reason change is needed? It’s a Catch22 situation, one that so many people feel like they can’t win. For every fire started, there are 100 people ready to put it out.
The Maltese simply can’t seem to be able to deal with more bad news, so they do what they always do best: they party. And the more they find places to spend their money and not face the disasters staring them in the face, the happier they are.
Our current “masters” know this for a fact and strive to dedicate ever more of our tax money on giving us shows of a lifetime. Who was it who said the bigger the wedding, the more there is to hide?
We swing from one disaster to the next and apply a collective amnesia in between. Within a few hours of finding this poor woman dead, we were being told that our anger was only fuelling people who were trying to steal our votes. And then there’s my favourite part: the one where we are told that our reactions are disrespectful to the grieving family.
The bottom line always seems to be that anyone who doesn’t smile and nod like something out of The Handmaid’s Tale is a danger to the collective peace.
Dissenters are to be singled out, labelled and silenced. Journalists are dangerous because they put ideas into people’s heads or give words to the little voices we all have inside of us screaming that all is not well.
All is not well tonight. Not for Miriam Pace, not for her family and not for us. And all will continue not to be well till justice is served and till our laws actually count for something. And though many of us are tired, we will all continue to remind the powers that be that all is not well till it is. This, I am certain of.