Three red metal struts surround the dining table in Grace Cassar’s kitchen at her ground floor house in Marsascala.

They are not part of some kitsch design.

The iron poles are supporting the ceiling, parts of which collapsed in February as Ms Cassar, 60, was doing the dishes.

“The Madonna saved me because I ran out of the kitchen the moment I heard popping sounds and dust started falling,” she says.

This week, concrete from the bathroom ceiling, which is adjacent to the kitchen, crashed down.

A day later, when I visit, large chunks of concrete are still strewn on the floor. The sink has been destroyed and some furniture is damaged.

As her brother makes some phone calls to get the debris cleaned up, a still shocked Ms Cassar says she was in the bathroom when she heard the same popping sounds that preceded the kitchen incident of a few months ago.

“My ears instantly recognised that sound and I immediately got out of the bathroom.

“A couple of minutes later I heard a crashing sound and the place was full of dust.”

Her eyes well up with tears as she takes two puffs from her inhaler. Ms Cassar suffers from asthma, is separated from her husband and lives on social assistance.

She shows me a cheque with a monthly payment of €155. “This is all I have to live on.”

Ms Cassar has been living in the same small house since 1979 when she moved to Marsascala after getting married. It is rented from the private sector but the owner does not want to repair the dangerous ceilings, she says, because the kitchen and bathroom were built by the couple as an extension into the back garden.

“When we moved in we got permission to erect the extension but now the owner does not want to carry out repairs,” she says.

At the start of July she was informed by the Housing Authority that her application for a subsidy to change the dangerous ceilings had been accepted.

Based on the architect’s evaluation the authority would finance just over €3,000, but Ms Cassar insists this is not enough to cover the expense.

She explains that several contractors who came to see the work that had to be done quoted prices between €7,000 and €8,000.

Only yesterday, a contractor found with the help of Marsa­scala mayor Mario Calleja quoted the best price yet: €6,700 including VAT.

­“The contractor said he was giving up his part of the income but still had to cover the expenses for materials and wages.

“I appreciate this but I still do not have the money to fork out more than €3,000,” she says.

Ms Cassar’s two sons, aged 20 and 28, live with her but she says the eldest has taken out a house loan and the youngest one’s wage is not enough to cover such a huge expense.

“They have their own expenses and I cannot expect them to fork out the money.

“They don’t have that money and the eldest cannot afford another bank loan,” she says.

When asked how realistic the architect’s evaluation is, a spokeswoman for the Social Solidarity Ministry told this newspaper that the intention of the housing scheme was not to cover the full expense involved. It was a means to give financial assistance to tenants for repairs to dangerous structures.

The Madonna saved me because I ran out of the kitchen the moment I heard popping sounds and dust started falling

“The property is rented from the private sector, and therefore, it is the owner who is legally responsible to cover these expenses. The Housing Authority is only responsible for structures of government-owned property,” the spokeswoman said.

She also noted that the authority did not yet have a copy of the estimate by the private contractor and the items included in it. She explained that the scheme only covered the replacement of dangerous structures and other items directly related to the works.

Ms Cassar has also applied for alternative accommodation but the authority has no places to offer in the Żabbar and Marsascala areas.

As she opens the fridge to pour a glass of cola, she says that a friend has offered to take her in after the latest incident.

But the friend lives at the top of a hill and Ms Cassar’s asthma does not allow her to walk up the steep incline.

“I lived there for a while after the February ceiling collapse but I cannot stay there because it means I will be cooped up in the house.”

The ordeal has broken her spirit. She is reluctant to sweep and wash the kitchen floor out of fear that hitting the metal struts will dislodge them.

Unless the problem is resolved quickly the winter will set in and the rains will only make things worse. “What will happen to me?” she asks in a broken voice.

As I walk back to the Valletta office, I notice that the concrete base for a monument at the foot of Ġlormu Cassar Hill has already been laid, just a couple of days after the area was cleared of trees.

I cannot help but think to myself: the large concrete slab would be more than enough to cover Ms Cassar’s broken ceilings.

Meanwhile, Ms Cassar is left with her prayers to the Madonna, hoping that she will be safe… until the next popping sound, that is.

ksansone@timesofmalta.com