Easing the throttle on idle as I waited in the sweltering August afternoon heat at the Rue d’Argens traffic lights in Sliema, I was startled by the splashing sound of wet concrete falling on to my car windscreen. I looked out of the window and all I could see was a cloud of dust hovering over high-rise apartments, partially retained facades supporting ruined traditional Maltese balconies and demolition works making way for new monochrome concrete boxes with aluminium windows.

I am still unable to decipher if the gross demolition the island suffered under the axis power in World War II was of a larger magnitude than the destruction we sustain in present times. I am inclined to conclude that Malta is worse off now, as we witness the orchestrated, systematic ravage and loss of our national heritage, architectural legacy, physical space and mental sanity to an incessant claustrophobic clutter of noise, visual disturbances and psychological abuse.

Corruption is the order of the day and the lust for power and monetary gain catalysed by greed and an impoverished mentality has crippled the remnant systems that should otherwise safeguard our soul and identity as a nation.

The Maltese are being evicted from their own island while they remain.

The island should be in a state of constant mourning but the idea of wealth generation has desensitised our senses to the surrounding environment into a numb acceptance of the artificial lifestyles we endorse. At this rate, only the sea shall be left to wash the island away.