Everything seems to have happened this November. The Valletta Summit on Migration came and went and delivered us, temporarily, from our traffic misery.  A day later, in what has been described as one of the deadliest attacks since World War II, terrorist shootings in Paris left 130 dead and France in a renewed state of emergency.

The following day, much closer to home, 71 young people were injured when a glass balustrade in a Paceville nightclub gave way and smashed into smithereens.

And, after months (years?) of playing footsie with the Opposition, the attention-seeking MP and drama-queen Marlene Farrugia has finally broken ranks with the Labour Party and  relinquished her party seat. She was also verbally attacked and threatened by fellow MP Joe Debono Grech in what was a terrible show of (his) appalling behaviour inside our nation’s most august debating chamber. Debono Grech has since apologised.

Yes, it’s definitely been a drama-packed month. Unfortunately much of it has been lost on me as I prepare to move house yet again, for what I hope is the last time. I’ve spent most of the month with my head stuck inside cardboard boxes, so there has been little chance to think beyond those selfsame box(es).

But one does come up for air. Even if the summit doesn’t do much to solve the ‘open-box’ of the migration crisis, it might have served a useful purpose in – just the once – luring people away from their cosily ‘boxed’ comfort zones and out of those truly unsustainable ‘metal boxes’, their cars.

Because, let’s face it, there is nothing comfortable about international terrorism, just as there’s no joy being stuck in a traffic jam for hours and going round in circles trying to find a parking space. But that is Malta and the Maltese for you. We talk about traffic as if it’s got nothing to do with us. We then expect it to be sorted out just so that we can continue using our cars 24/7, unchecked, when, of course, the reality is that it will only be solved when we opt for alternative modes of transport.

I had a very interesting conversation with someone the other day who told me that, ever since the summit, he has ditched his car for the saner, quicker and hassle-free ferry from Sliema to Valletta, which is where he works.

It’s been staring him in the face for years, and had it not been for the summit he might never have got round to using it. You see, people have got to be forced out of old habits and start living outside the old ‘boxes’.  Though we don’t realise it, some of those boxes have cramped our style. Today, he marvels at how much better he feels: his whole quality of life has improved.

The boat to work is quicker and more relaxing and he never has to think of parking his car or fear a fine. He can take calls on his mobile, do the crossword, read the paper or simply enjoy the splendid ride.

I’m not exactly sorry to see Marlene Farrugia leave the Labour Party, but I am sorry that she was treated so shabbily

Occasionally, he and his wife make an evening of it. She’ll catch the ferry in the late afternoon, do a spot of shopping and then they’ll meet for supper.

All that traffic-related media-hype has worked on him like a charm. Abroad, that ferry would be packed by locals. In Malta, typically, it is foreigners who use it.

So… I strongly recommend compulsory car-free days, and I urge the authorities to invest in a world-class transportation system – on land, sea and rail. If you can guarantee such a service, people will eventually give up their cars and come back for more.

The Paceville nightclub incident represents another dangerous ‘box’ (incidentally the French word for nightclub is just that – boite de nuit), especially when crowded, unsupervised and at a critical tipping-point.

It highlights another huge problem endemic to Malta – lack of enforcement, which, of course, is predicated on those who think themselves above the law. Boxes within boxes here – from which, at long last, we have to rid ourselves.

Which logically brings us to an incident that was totally unworthy of Parliament and highlighted the sad reality that in Malta there are still too many Neanderthals in high-level positions who call the shots. That’s another ‘box’ for you.

I’m not exactly sorry to see Farrugia leave the Labour Party because she was clearly out of sync and sorts, but I am sorry that she was treated so shabbily. It seems wrong that both were slapped on the wrist, as if both were equally to blame. Debono Grech deserved at least a formal reprimand and some days barred from the chamber. And he still deserves the uncomfortable feeling that such ‘loose-cannon’ behaviour is making him a political liability that not even his cronies can defend publicly.

Farrugia is a feisty and provocative lady who gave as good as she got; and what she got was sexist abuse in language sadly reminiscent of the violence, both verbal and physical, that occurs – more often than we think? – in that most private of small boxes, the marital home.

I have not touched on Paris (but others have done that, far more ably) or tracked Schengen or the downslide of Paceville, but in this pot-pourri of a piece I choose instead to end on this note.

As I prepare, surrounded by my cardboard boxes, to move home, I can think only of those women – far less empowered or able to choose than Farrugia (or me) – who are the unwilling prisoners of their own homes. That makes my blood boil. And that’s a box that must be sent by express courier right back to the past.

Please allow me to offer my deepest condolences to the Demicoli family who lost their 17-year-old son Matthew very suddenly last Tuesday. My thoughts are with the grieving family he has left behind.

michelaspiteri@gmail.com