Why walls keep crashing down

The authorities were warned repeatedly.  On 20 April, the Mellieha local council filed a police report saying a wall next to a bus stop was leaning outward and looked dangerously unstable.

They included photographs of the dilapidated wall. Two days later, a police sergeant forwarded that warning to Infrastructure Malta and the Public Works Department.  The police said the wall was unstable and might collapse at any time.  Infrastructure Malta did nothing.  The Public Works Department did nothing.  And five months later, that wall right next to the Niklaw bus stop came crashing down.

A heap of stone slabs and boulders covered the pavement and part of the road.  Miraculously, nobody was at the bus stop when it happened.  Had there been people waiting, Malta would have witnessed a major tragedy.

The road from Mellieħa to Għadira Bay had to be closed down and public transport diverted. Only after the wall collapsed did any officials turn up.

“This precautionary measure is being taken while the situation is further monitored and assessed and the necessary safety checks carried out,” the council said.  Isn’t it slightly late to take precautionary measures? Isn’t the time for “safety checks” long past? We should thank our lucky stars that no children were waiting for their bus.

That near disaster in Mellieħa is symptomatic of the utter uselessness of the authorities meant to ensure our safety.  Not only did Infrastructure Malta not identify the looming problem, but when the council reported the danger to the police, who reported it to Infrastructure Malta, they simply ignored it – for months.

That’s not the first time this has happened.  Just two years ago, 22-year-old Mirabelle Falzon was needlessly killed when masonry and rocks fell onto her from the deteriorating Rihana Battery near Munxar, St Thomas Bay.

Authorities had been repeatedly warned of the imminent danger.  As early as 2017, the Marsaskala local council warned the government that the battery was deteriorating rapidly and posed an imminent danger to the public.  Yet for seven long years the government authorities took no action until that fateful day that extinguished the life of that young woman.

NGOs and citizens had reported the battery’s precarious state.  Shortly before the fatality, urban explorer Conrad Neil Gatt sent photos and drone footage showing the structure’s severe deterioration to several government departments.  Some of those departments simply washed their hands of the problem, denying any responsibility.  Others didn’t even respond.

A magisterial inquiry concluded that the reports warning of the danger were “lost in the bureaucracy of government authorities” and that the authorities allowed the structure to deteriorate until it collapsed.

The authorities failed the public. In particular, they failed the 22-year-old Falzon. That isn’t some political allegation.  That was the magisterial conclusion.  At least that’s what we know from the titbits the Labour government selectively released from the inquiry.  The full inquiry report was never published. And therein lies the problem.

Again, the government chose secrecy over transparency.  The tragic result of Labour’s secrecy is that nothing was done to address the systemic inadequacies and the criminal incompetence of the various entities and institutions responsible for protecting the public from such disasters.  Nothing was done to streamline the process of responding to reports.

No strategy was developed to inspect existing structures, identify those at risk of collapse, and initiate pre-emptive action to prevent more tragic incidents like the one at the Rihana Battery.

Labour knows that the public outcry after such tragedies quickly dies down.  That inquiry report drawn up by Magistrate Antoine Agius Bonnici is probably gathering dust in some hidden drawer.

No lessons were learnt, no improvements made.  And here we go again. Almost every year, with Swiss-clock regularity, Malta witnesses another tragedy or near tragedy because authorities fail not only to do their duty but also to respond to reports from the public, NGOs, and local councils.

Less than 10 months ago, a government-owned house in Birgu collapsed.  Through sheer luck, nobody was injured.  Then-housing minister Roderick Galdes had received repeated emails and photographs of the property’s deteriorating condition since July 2023.

The mayor and the Vittoriosa local council pushed for action to protect the public.  Galdes visited the property years earlier and promised to restore it as social housing, but did nothing.  And in December 2025, a big part of that house came crashing down.

Despite its long years of inaction, the government denied any negligence. The minister knew the building was condemned and at risk of collapse, but no restoration was carried out until it was too late.

In an attempt to defuse the rage of Birgu’s residents at the near miss in their city, Galdes announced with great pomp that “an internal investigation will be set up”. His ministry issued a statement claiming that “the safety of residents and the public remains our priority”.

That only rubbed salt into a very sore wound. What’s happened to that internal investigation?  Has anybody seen the report from the investigation?  Of course not.  Like the magisterial inquiry on the Rihana Battery collapse,  the government kept the Birgu collapse investigation report under wraps.

That is the real tragedy.  Labour’s priority isn’t to protect the public; it’s to protect itself.  It diligently conceals damning reports to stave off criticism but, in the process, ensures that its institutions’ chaotic incompetence and blatant disregard for human life persist.

Taxpayer millions are spent rewarding uselessly incompetent hand-picked CEOs and board directors instead of maintaining public structures.

Labour is content splurging millions of our taxes on propagandistic praise of itself on billboards (100 days of fulfilled promises), adverts and social media, but is loath to spend a few thousand to stop a wall collapsing on its citizens.