Watch: Mildred’s last selfie of joy before death struck

Less than an hour before she was fatally struck by a car, Mildred Azzopardi shared a final snapshot of the simple joys she cherished most: tea and cheesecakes by the sea with her husband.

At 9.10pm, the 62-year-old mother posted a selfie in the family WhatsApp group, ‘The Fam’, captioned in Maltese: “bela te u pastizzi tal-Serkin u ħallieh ħa jħabbat” (a cup of tea and Serkin cheesecakes and let it roll), signing off with an angel emoji. By 9.45pm, tragedy had struck.

“She sent it with a smiley of an angel – thankfully, we all saw it,” recalled her children Cain, 35, Janice, 32, Amy, 26, and Maria, 22.

Speaking for the first time since the accident that claimed their mother’s life and left their father recovering in hospital, the siblings described how the crash turned their world upside down in an instant.

They called for more education and awareness about the devastating consequences of such accidents, as well as the immediate suspension of a driving licence in such cases.

Their mother was crushed when a Subaru Impreza crashed into the family’s parked car on July 27. She had been placing items in the trunk while her 69-year-old husband – former footballer Alfred Azzopardi – sat inside the vehicle’s passenger seat at Ta’ Liesse, Valletta.

The driver of the Subaru, 23-year-old soldier Benjamin Chetcuti, has been charged with involuntary homicide and drink-driving. He denies all charges. Court proceedings revealed that a breathalyser test showed his blood alcohol level was more than five times the legal limit and was driving at an average speed of 98 km/hr.

Currently, licences are only revoked if the accused is found guilty at the end of proceedings – something the siblings argue must change. This is one of the amendments currently being proposed as part of amendments to the Traffic Regulations Ordinance being discussed in parliament. 

The family gathered at their childhood home in Ħamrun, where Maria, the youngest, still lives. 

Her two older sisters, Amy and Janice, are both mothers – Amy to a baby, Janice to three small children. 

They sat on the sofa where their mother had slept for the past three years, staying close to her husband who could no longer climb the stairs due to lung problems.

The oversized framed photograph of Mildred and Alfred Azzopardi hanging in the living room.

“She was his everything,” they said, glancing at the oversized framed photograph of their parents hanging in the living room.

The night everything changed

On the day of the accident, Amy visited her parents in the afternoon, arriving at 1.30pm with her three-month-old baby and staying until around 5.30pm.

“Had I stayed a bit longer, maybe they would have stayed home. Maybe they would have been satisfied with staying in the house…” she says.

After Amy left, their parents went out. Their mother enjoyed taking their father for drives, since he could no longer walk long distances. That evening, they went to Rabat to watch the sunset, stopped at Serkin for tea and cheesecakes, then headed to Valletta’s Pixkerija with foldable chairs to enjoy the view and have their tea and cheesecakes. 

At 9.10pm, their mother sent the selfie. The accident happened around 9.45pm.

The last selfie

Later that night, Maria was at home with the family dog, wondering why her parents were late, when a knock came at the door close to midnight. Outside stood members of the police’s Victim Support Unit. They asked for Amy, who was still registered at that address.

“When they told me the names of my parents… they said there had been an accident. My dad was in hospital, and my mum had passed.”

The siblings immediately contacted each other and rushed to hospital.

Cain, who lived in Sweden, received the call that night. “I knew something was wrong, but I thought it was dad with his lung condition. When I heard Janice’s voice, I knew it was more serious. I felt helpless being so far away.” He booked a flight at once.

The sisters were placed in a silent room while Cain joined them on the phone. “At that moment, you want to scream and shout,” Janice said. Doctors explained what had happened. 

“It was an even bigger shock,” Amy added.

Their father lay in an induced coma, suffering severe injuries – deep lacerations, torn skin, and bruising. When he woke, he was disoriented and unable to speak or move. For days, he did not recognise his children. Gradually, he regained awareness, asking for his medicine and wondering why his wife was not visiting.

They avoided lying but diverted his questions until Cain told him the truth before the funeral that took place on August 2.

 “We cried together,” he recalled. “Then my sisters came into the hospital room. He could not accept it. We told him we had taken care of everything, that there would be a great celebration of her life. She was his life. He always said he wanted to go before her.”

Now, he knows. “His will is low, but his mind is there. His breathing is a struggle, and he still can’t walk. We take shifts being with him. He gets upset when he’s alone.”

They want her remembered as a sassy woman who loved life’s simple joys – her morning coffee ritual, sunsets, Egypt, and her fascination with the paranormal.

After the funeral, the siblings had to attend court. Footage of the crash showed their father crossing to the car, then their mother crossing with a chair. She returned for another chair, and as she placed it in the trunk, she turned her head slightly – as if she had heard something. The next moment, the screen went blank as the crash pushed the car out of view.

“That was the moment everything changed,” Janice said. “It didn’t just happen to our mother. We’re the ones who still have to go to court, who still have to live this until it’s over. Everything changed for us. Cain had to fly back after 13 years. Six hours after the accident, he was on two flights. He arrived and came straight here to find clothes for our dead mother. Then you have to plan a funeral. We never prepared for such things. And then our dad: every single day.”

Cain added: “In Malta, we always wait for something tragic to happen before action is taken.”  

He was referring to recently proposed amendments to the law, making jail terms compulsory in cases of traffic fatalities.

“It’s a matter of road safety. All she was doing was putting things in the trunk.”

Mildred Azzopardi’s children Cain, Janice, Amy and Maria. Photos: Matthew Mirabelli

A call for change

The siblings are urging stronger enforcement – more roadblocks, education from a young age, and the immediate suspension of licences when someone over the limit injures or kills another person.

“When people say: ‘I’m only tipsy,’ they think nothing will happen to them. They are being selfish as there might be someone putting something in the trunk,” Maria says.

That someone was their mother. They want her remembered as a sassy woman who loved life’s simple joys – her morning coffee ritual, sunsets, Egypt, and her fascination with the paranormal.

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“Every night when we were little. she would tell us good night and remind us: ‘You are not alone’. As kids, it gave us the chills. And she was right – we are not alone. The support has been overwhelming. At least we have one another. When one of us breaks down, the others help,” they say.