In the end, it was water that defeated me. But the problems represented a long chain of disempowering events resulting from systems of governance that are failing in Malta.

Before you dismiss me as either a Nationalist stooge or a Labour apologist, I am neither. Bipartisan politics no longer serve citizens.

I will use my personal story to demonstrate a wider malaise.

In 2009, when I bought my flat in a mixed social housing block in lower Valletta, people from outside Valletta expressed astonishment that I would consider moving to a “dead” city and, even worse, buying into a Housing Authority block.

Valletta was not dead. Certainly, Valletta was battered from a devastating world war and from neglect since then. But I recognised the opportunity that came with buying a home in a mixed social housing block.

Nevertheless, I was anxious about the rights and responsibilities associated with buying into a community that shared common space, including the roof above my flat. I ensured that a lawyer drew up the contract of sale, noting permits from the Lands Authority and Planning Authority for a small washroom. The Housing Authority signed the contract of sale. I had all my bases covered and was legal in terms of the system.

I began creating a living space that reflected my commitment to sustainability. Instead of airconditioning units and satellite dishes in the common space of the roof, I nurtured a garden.

However, I was dismayed to notice that some owner residents were claiming the entire common space, leaving only narrow pathways for other residents to access. Privatising public space is common in Maltese culture, as a stroll down the pedestrian streets of Valletta quickly demonstrates.

The Housing Authority determined to act. I responded by emphasising the legality of my own position and suggesting alternatives for the use of the common space, including the installation of solar panels and a green roof.

My efforts were totally ignored. I handed over the keys to my washroom after the Housing Authority explained that the Lands Authority had the legal authority to demand that they be handed to them.

I was assured that I could keep the plants on the roof and that my water tanks would be moved such that I would continue to have water. I documented everything and sent this report to the Housing Authority.

The contractors arrived at 6am on October 19 and I began to see how threatening the world becomes when systems that you have trusted begin to fail.

The foreman dismissed me when I tried to explain what I had understood to be the working plan laid down by the Housing Authority. No government representative was on site to mediate between the contractors and the residents.

One foreman expressed his anger by stomping past me, grabbing a trellis that held up communal wires across the roof and tossing the broken fence onto my plants, breaking stems I had nurtured for 10 years.

The other foreman ordered me off the roof and told me that because I had dared to speak out, they would now start demolishing my room first.

I found myself confronted by vindictive behaviour designed to intimidate me and demonstrate the power of the demolishers. I tried contacting the Housing Authority and the police to find someone to mediate but could get no response from either. I was reduced to cowering in my flat as jackhammers began the demolition above my head.

When silence fell that evening, I ventured on the roof and was devastated to discover that all my plants had been dumped on top of each other in a huge heap ready for removal to landfill. The roof was a war zone and dazed residents emerged in silence to inspect the damage.

I wept as I tried to rescue heavy troughs from the heap and drag them to safety. Action, even futile action, is helpful but I had no plan about where or how I could move the plants off the roof. I put out a call on Facebook for anyone who could come early the following morning to help me get the plants down onto the common space parapet on level two.

Government departments fail to communicate with each other, let alone with citizens- Josephine Burden

At dawn I moved my olive tree and my worm farm. Friends arrived at 7.45am. Some of the workers volunteered to help but the foremen yelled abuse.

Despite the barrage, we worked until finally the last trough awaited us. The foreman refused to allow us back on the roof. He very deliberately raised his boot and brought it down several times onto the trough.

Once again, I stood devastated in the doorway and this time he walked over and slammed the door in my face.

If you have read this far, perhaps you are thinking “but how could this happen in democratic Malta”. You may be pondering the contradictions between government rhetoric about environmental sustainability and the destruction of one old woman’s efforts to practise what is preached.

The most difficult thing for me was that I could think of nowhere to turn. I had already learned that the systems in Malta do not want to hear about injustice and bullying behaviour so long as the contractors charged with carrying out the deed get on with their nasty work.

I spent the rest of the day listening to the thuds above my head. By this time, I was without water and had to fill buckets from the kitchen in order to flush the toilet.

That was over two months ago – old news, you will say. Except that the systems remain in place and the abuse has been entrenched. With no Housing Authority representation on site, the contractors have had their bullying behaviour legitimised. They have operated an unsafe demolition site without safety measures for their workers or preventive steps to avoid damage to residents in the courtyard area. They have rushed through the demolition without consideration of the damage done to water delivery, electricity and the water security of the roof.

Since then, water ingress has damaged the ceilings in three rooms and I can only hope that the slow progress of repairs on the roof indicates careful, effective work to remedy the destruction of the membrane that I had carefully maintained for over 10 years.

The Housing Authority has alienated the residents and closed its doors such that I am unable to ascertain responsibility for the damage to my ceilings. I have been turned from a potential ally in building a socially and environmentally sustainable common space into an illegal troublemaker with no right to just and respectful treatment.

Last week, a reminder arrived from the Lands Authority that the annual payment for my permit to encroach on the roof is due at the end of the month. Despite the assurances of the Housing Authority it is clear that no effective communication between the two government departments had taken place. My legality has been at the whim of one department regardless of my understanding with another.

And this is the lesson that I have learned from these past months of devastating loss of trust in the governance of this island where I have chosen to build my home in my final years; that government departments fail to communicate with each other, let alone with citizens.

Community consultation is not about letterbox drops, ugly billboards that clutter the roads, or party rallies. Community consultation requires a clear, shared vision between government departments and common space that enables citizens to talk with each other as well as with the authorities that impact their lives.

Neither of these aspects is present in Malta today and the result is the abuse of common and public space that we see all around us in construction and commercial overexploitation.

Yet, the rain that inundated my flat has brought fresh, green shoots to the plants I saved from the roof destruction. The hope they bring is a glimpse of the community that could exist on Valletta streets if we created space that enabled people to talk with each other.

Josephine Burden is a former academic in community cultural development. She is now a citizen of Malta, a writer and a resident of Valletta.