I don’t know how old some of you are but I imagine many of you remember the bus system we had in place before Arriva hit our shores. When I first started to take buses, they had already been turned into orange pumpkins. The running joke was that someone had over-ordered paint and now we were stuck with a nuclear shade that couldn’t exactly be used for anything else.

From the outside, they all looked the same; however, each driver took pains to decorate and personalise their space at the front. In a time when mobile phones were still a concept out of a Jules Verne novel, you’d have plenty of time to stare at the full-on shrines they would build, complete with rosary beads, plastic flowers and photos of dead relatives.

It’s not just the cabins that were colourful either. If décor is usually an indication of the owner, we had quite a few interesting drivers in my time. Shirts open, gold chains dangling from browned, sweaty necks, cigarettes precariously perched at the side of mouths and an ever-pervading feeling that anything could happen.

Indeed, several times something did. From drivers taking different routes to fulfil errands, to arguments between drivers and their significant others, to several drivers actually stopping the bus to buy lunch, my teenage years saw it all and then some. And perhaps because the drivers were all Maltese, no one complained. Whatever the reason, life felt simpler if not exactly efficient.

Let’s try being annoyed at the real enemy: those who make the decisions- Anna Marie Galea

I was reminded of my own dust-covered memories this week when the country was in uproar over a bus driver stopping his bus mid-route to get something to eat. I went through comment after comment about the lack of discipline and disrespect and, in all honesty, I find myself confused.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t condone people stopping half way through their jobs when they’re not meant to; but after it surfaced that he had asked his passengers if it was okay if he could stop for a few minutes to buy food, I did wonder why such a fuss was being made in a country that was still experiencing no electricity in certain areas this very week.

It’s honestly a mystery to me. We have people with huge allegations hanging over their heads, and our country is in huge financial straits to boot, and, in the meantime, our people seem to be intent on going after a driver who asked for permission to have lunch.

And I’m not even going to get into the ongoing efforts to discredit Jean Paul Sofia’s mother’s motives for simply wanting justice for her son, even if the architect responsible is allegedly claiming that he contributed to his own death by being on-site when he shouldn’t have been.

We always seem to want to hang the wrong person; it’s almost like we feel the need to scapegoat others and take out our obvious, growing anger and frustration on the people who either can’t fight back or shouldn’t have to. I can’t be the only one who feels we need to find a way to prioritise our rage.

Instead of daily street fights and hurling insults at drivers, let’s try being annoyed at the real enemy: those who make the decisions.