During the eight-year-long period that I was residing abroad, I would always get giddy with excitement at the prospect of returning to Malta for my summer break. Every time the plane touched down at MIA, I’d exit, embracing that characteristic humidity, like a long-lost daughter.
After recently returning to Malta from my final stint abroad, my husband and I had to make the difficult decision of choosing a country to settle in. In the end, our collective decision was to continue travelling to Malta as visitors, rather than calling it home. Yes, yes, I hear you. I often have to deal with the look of wonderment when I tell people I’m parting ways with the not-so-hidden gem of the Mediterranean.
The thing is, the pandemic gave me and my husband an opportunity to spend a considerable amount of time here and to view Malta with the eyes of an outsider. The more I looked, the uglier it got. But what’s uglier is the truth of how complacent our constituents have become, that “uwijja mhux xorta” (anything goes) approach, which makes me shudder.
Walking along the more touristy and commercial areas of Malta, you begin to notice: debris and derelict phone booths, lamp posts and signs along promenades, insipid ornaments, dangerously broken pavements, poor enforcement on littering and hygiene (I’ve seen rats and cockroaches) on roads and beaches, and more.
Naturally, I wrote to the local council in charge about the things I (and many others) believed needed fixing. What I got back was a response that got me thinking (and writing).
The response was clear as a Maltese summer’s day: “We are not in charge of that.” I wrote back with conviction, asking for information on what the local council was in charge of, so that I could understand specifically what support I, as a voter and taxpayer, could get.
The response: “Article 33 of KAP 363.” This hit me hard.
I realised that I was not dealing with civil servants who had my best interest at heart. Out of curiosity, I checked the council’s Facebook page, which had a link to its website. The result was equally as cryptic as the one I got via e-mail. I got a big, fat 523 web error.
If councils claim that they don’t have control, then let citizens know what is in the councils’ control- Marie Claire Tonna
My last resort was to get on the phone with the mayor himself. But the call with the mayor left me more than frustrated. Here’s why.
It appears that councils have become increasingly centralised, leaving little control to the councils themselves. This has removed the local councils from being able to tackle major local concerns, reducing them to mere complaints centres.
Nevertheless, I still feel that many things in the hands of the local councils are left wanting. Is it the case of elected members simply warming their seats in the hope of cashing in a few hundred euros or gaining themselves a position in the higher echelons of politics? The more I thought about it, the more I recognised it, as I walked through the streets of Malta, noticing the little impact councils have on the quality of life of its residents.
I insist on the need for transparency: if councils claim that they don’t have control, then let citizens know what is in the councils’ control. And, more importantly, demonstrate to citizens that councils are fighting for more control. Anything less than that should get us voting differently.
Until there is transparency, I have no choice but to believe that our elected council members are complacent to the status quo, with little to no intention of regaining authority over the locality they promised to love.
Shorter yet, by paying lip service to citizens’ concerns, our elected council members are taking us for a ride and an ugly one at that.