Whenever I read stories featuring residents like Senglea’s Anna Spiteri or Cospicua’s Joe Busuttil, I am immediately sympathetic. Both have pleaded with the authorities to lend an ear (oh the irony!) to their noisy plight of living close to the Palumbo shipyard. I don’t doubt for a second the anguish and sincerity of stories like these, which sadly are not in short supply.
There aren’t many things I feel so strongly about as the basic right to peace and quiet. Likewise the sanctity and privacy of one’s own home. To be constantly subjected to dust and round-the-clock blasting is, frankly, unacceptable in a civilised country. The merest threat – the trepidation that comes with not knowing whether today, or worse tonight, will be one of those decibel hells – is no way to live.
Noise is never far off on this little island of ours. Be it factory, shipyard or construction site, carwash, discotheque or restaurant, band club, bar or barking dog, it’s there. And if by some fluke it isn’t, then the insouciant neighbour’s heavy boots will be clobbering overhead.
I have never lived next to a shipyard but I have still experienced noise bad enough to make me move home twice already. And although I don’t suffer poor physical health from dust like asthmatic Busuttil, there are other anti-social practices capable of driving us all to distraction or depression.
Palumbo was back in the news this month when sleepless Senglea residents, having had enough of incessant noise from the shipyards, filed a kwerela (complaint) with the police, which led to the arraignment of three Palumbo representatives. I have relied on the newspapers for the story. Therefore – perhaps not surprisingly – the account seems garbled, even to me. The noise appears to have been traced to a tugboat generator – still part of the dockyard? – and yet Palumbo was acquitted.
The trepidation that comes with not knowing whether tonight will be one of those decibel hells is no way to live
I could pretend to be mystified. But of course I’m not. I happen to know that successful prosecutions in cases like these are rare for a number of reasons. Firstly, because charges are very specific to a fact, date, time, place and are very easy to wriggle out of when not meticulously recorded. Secondly, when you’re dealing with criminal cases (police cases always are), the burden of proof is more onerous. Cases must be proved beyond reasonable doubt, not simply on a balance of probabilities.
The technical nature of a case like this would usually involve the appointment of an expert tasked with identifying the source of the noise in question. And his findings would effectively bind the magistrate hearing the case. There can be no ifs, buts or maybes. If the expert expresses the slightest doubt, it’s game over for the little people.
Which seems to have been exactly what happened here. The three shipyard representatives were eventually acquitted. That doesn’t make the residents any less right, and it certainly doesn’t make their claims vexatious. Being acquitted is not the same as being innocent. That Palumbo is now threatening to sue the residents for damages is very nasty and nothing short of intimidation. It says much more about Palumbo than it does about the residents. Such bullying is despicable.
Instead of making a peaceful exit and thanking their lucky stars that the criminal court gave them a very fair hearing – not because the magistrate was deaf to the noise but because he was bound by criminal procedure – the men at Palumbo decided to make themselves heard once again. So loudly, in fact, that even the Prime Minister has now decided that enough is enough.
I can well understand how disheartening all this must be for the people of Senglea and Cospicua. I’m immediately reminded of the saying: ‘Never go to court when you’re right’. Because when you know you’re right, it’s always harder when the other side gives the law the slip.
But you take the stand and give a true account of the misery and hardship you’ve had to endure for five long years – the penetrating noise that lives in your head; the air pollution that settles on your furniture and enters your lungs; the grit and the grime; and yes, even the financial hardship that comes with having to clean your house daily and use air conditioners instead of a natural breeze. And now, on top of that, imagine being physically disabled or elderly, or even a teenager studying for exams! These are things that make daily life unbearable. They lead to short or even long-term depression and illness. Taking a sleeping pill is wholly unacceptable as far as I’m concerned.
Cases like Palumbo highlight the deep madness that is slowly but surely seeping into our society. One sleepless night is simply one too many in my book. And never being able to relax in your own home, let alone rely on the relief and protection of the courts or those in authority, is a serious erosion of your rights as a citizen.
I’m glad the Prime Minister says he is listening. Apart from some very obvious residential, environmental and democratic principles at stake, there are further issues. Cottonera is now a heritage area with a huge residential and visitor potential: it is clearly no longer suitable for heavy shipyard work.
EU standards too have got to be respected, first for the good of Maltese citizens and then to promote Malta’s image abroad. There’s also a growing foreign presence in the Three Cities, and these people will add their voices to the Maltese, just as surely as they will ‘say it as it is’ beyond the island. By the same token, foreign investment (like Palumbo) must to be seen to 100 per cent correct: not a ‘deal’ done behind closed doors.
It’s that simple. In one simple sentence, everyone in Malta has the right to a good night’s sleep and the right to a minimum of encroachment during the day. Let’s listen to the Anna Spiteris and Joe Busuttils sooner rather than later.
michelaspiteri@gmail.com