I can’t even begin to imagine what Carmel Pace has been going through this past year. In his interview to this paper last week, he described his wife, Miriam, 54, as having been his life, his best friend, his adviser, his problem-solver and a brilliant mother to their children. He lost all that in a nanosecond when their home with his wife in it came crushing down. It was not an earthquake, although it certainly felt like one. It was the result of shoddy construction work next door.
When a loved one dies suddenly and tragically, the effect on those left behind is life-changingly traumatic. But the Pace family’s tragedy goes beyond that. They not only lost their wife and mother, they also lost their family home of 32 years. As their building came tumbling down, so did their possessions and, with them, the memories of them together as a family.
But the tragedy is worse than that. It was not a chance accident. It was not misfortune. It was an un-accidental disaster that could have – should have – never happened. The sign was on the wall from the very first day when the lush fruit garden behind their house made way for ‘development’. In came the bulldozers and excavators and, on cue, the neighbourhood ground started shaking with earthquake-like tremors. Until, days later… Crash!
We still do not really know what happened because the prime minister, shamefully, remains reluctant to give the go-ahead to a public inquiry into the incident. Ah, but we’re not meant to trouble our little heads over things like that. Why, Environment Minister Aaron Farrugia has just informed us that, by the end of 2021, the number of construction site inspectors will double – and from 10 people it will go up to 20. S-l-o-w clap. He badly wants a star on his copybook.
They’re setting up a Building Construction Authority with the aim of improving safety on construction sites so developers and contractors don’t play foul. (Ironically, developers and contractors want their finger in the pie of this board and have been lobbying – successfully, judging by the PN’s grovelling response – for their own board member.)
The truth is that we can have as many construction authorities as there are stars in the night sky, things can only get better when we tackle the root of the problem itself: construction. Daily, we are living an orgy of eco-vandalism. We are building everywhere and everything. Notice, when you’re driving around the island, how increasingly everything looked concrete-y – there is no green, just grey.
In fact, judging by the extent of the building, you would think we have a housing crisis. We don’t. We just have an affordability crisis. Old, empty properties – of which there is enough to go round for everyone – are too ridiculously expensive. They are, therefore, bought by developers who turn them into poky flats. We have reached a situation where, for the same price of a one-car garage in Malta, you can buy a cottage in the middle of a field with about 100 olive trees in Sicily.
The truth is that we can have as many construction authorities as there are stars in the night sky- Kristina Chetcuti
We’re obsessed that progress can only be achieved through development and economic growth, so what’s a centuries-old tree, if it’s in the way? Unfortunately, we, as voters, are brainwashed to believe that this development growth is going to improve our quality of life. That’s utter nonsense. The real winners are the construction firms.
I’ve come to the conclusion that the only way to beat this is to set up an addiction centre for developers and contractors. At first, I thought that we could lock them in somewhere in the middle of nature so they learn to appreciate it. But the thing is, they do appreciate it – so much so that they all have their own access to pristine landscapes (case in point Sandro Chetcuti’s Fomm ir-Riħ). So, I’ve revised my plan. All the buccaneers, together with their favourite minister, Ian Borg, and the whole lot running the Planning Authority, should be locked up as a closed community for a year, in a grey block. The poky windows would have a view of more grey blocks and there’ll be a JCB digger at it from morning till night right next door. Day-in-day-out, they’d be forced to watch Our Planet series on Netflix and made to reflect on what they’ve done to Our Malta.
Can you imagine the peace and quiet we’d all have for a whole year? No more cranes lining our skyline. And no one need be afraid in their own house anymore, with the earth trembling with each digger movement next door.
As things are, the Planning Authority blatantly favours developers. Any individuals – vide the farmers fighting for their land recently – who dare raise their voices are mocked or, worse, ignored. You know even before you start that you’re going to be waging a very lonely battle.
Miriam Pace’s basic pleas for the construction work next door were ignored. Her husband summed it up when he said: “The disrespect towards our neighbours is incredible.” I think that just about sums it all. When we reach a point where we don’t give a hoot about our neighbour, then how can we care about the common good?
Carmel Pace’s biggest fear is that his wife’s tragedy will be forgotten. She won’t. Miriam represents the national fightback that we must all, each in our own little way, take part in to win back Our Malta.
krischetcuti@gmail.com
twitter: @krischetcuti