I started writing this at 7.30am, while waiting for the school van to pick up my daughter. Tick tock, tick tock, 8am. Tick tock, tick tock, 8.30am. School starts. Tick tock, tick tock. Van came by at 8.45am with a very flustered driver who had been stuck in traffic for hours on end. By the time my daughter arrived at school, the first lesson was over.

It’s been a whole week like that – either her arriving half way through the first lesson, or towards the end, or missing it completely. We’ve been using school vans for the last six years and this had never happened before.

I hasten to add that the tardiness was not the driver’s fault – she barely took 20 minutes to pick up the children from the area. However, it was impossible for her to pick up the students earlier because she has two other trips before our school’s.

So what is the problem here? Free transport to all schools – not just the government ones but also the Church and independent – was promised in spring of 2017. This was commendable. Eliminating the transport financial costs, parents would not drive their children to school themselves, and this would result in fewer private vehicles on the road in the morning rush hour, which would result in a reduction of traffic congestion, and therefore a less polluted environment. The proposal was even included in last year’s Budget – but nothing happened.

Then came this September and just a fortnight before schools were due to start, the Minister of Education announced that the government was going to offer free transport for all school children. Great.

But wait. Before the minister made this grand announcement he failed to ask himself the single most important question: “Do we have enough vans to do this?” Had he asked the question, the answer would have been a no, in caps, in bold and with a fat exclamation mark.

Still, the government forged ahead. “Uijja mhux xorta – imbagħad nirranġaw”. Maybe the minister figured that at some stage a tender would be issued which could be won by one of his canvassers, who knows? Just to be on the safe side, he covered himself with the disclaimer that “he will not rule out initial turbulence until we get the system going”. Then added: “But I am sure that with the cooperation of all involved we will be able to provide the service.”

Whose cooperation exactly? Because if there are no vans – then there can be no transport. The ministry projected that 42,000 students will be using the service this year – double the number of last year. Therefore, why didn’t the ministry start sorting out the van issue this time last year, at the latest?

If we want to get the attention of anyone at Castille, maybe we should all dress up as fluffy dogs

By vans, I do not mean the vehicle-on-four-wheels but obviously, the drivers and supervisors too. Oh, wait. Supervisors – so vital to curb van bullying – were discarded in favour of an app. The minister explained how every vehicle would be equipped with an electronic reader that would notify parents, through a free app, whenever the child enters or exits the vehicle. If there is any parent out there who has this app, or seen this reader, please speak up.

Consequently, because there was no planning whatsoever, we’ve had a week of students on transport waiting lists; drivers overstretched cramming three or more trips every morning; students picked up late; school lessons disrupted; anxious parents going back to their cars and doing the school run after all, arriving at work late; traffic congestion everywhere; and then, to top it all, it rains. And as we know, when it rains, the island stops.

God help us all if this ‘turbulence’ is going to last all throughout this scholastic year.

This week’s newsletter from Castille instructed all its readers to “break the internet with the picture of the fluffy Maltase terrier” which disembarked from the NGO-operated ship Aquarius.

Obviously the dog was not the only migrant on the ship – although we would be forgiven for thinking so, seeing as it’s the only image we were shown. There were 58 other asylum seekers, from Libya, Palestine, Syria, Pakistan and Somalia, but they were of the human species.

It so happens that the Castille social media army, led by their leader, the Prime Minister and the Parliamentary Secretary for Animal Rights (who is a hunter) Clint Camilleri, are not interested in homo sapiens, but in canis familiaris.

Which is how we got to know that the dog’s name is Bella! She is white and Maltese! She is middle-aged! She is quarantined by the Animal Welfare directorate! She is undergoing extensive health check-ups! Further check-ups will be held!  She is in good health!

Erm, what about Bella’s owners? Are they in good health? And what about the other asylum seekers? Are they undergoing extensive health check-ups? We don’t care. They are not cute and fluffy.

And how come we know the dog’s name but not the migrants’? Are they just numbers simply because they happen to be human? And what about the 1,600 people who died in the first seven months of this year?  They were parents, uncles, aunts, brothers, sisters, grandparents, children – they all had stories, families, pets, a future. We don’t care.

The Maltese government has seized NGO rescue vessels MV Lifeline, MV Sea Watch 3, MV Seefuchs, as well as a spotter plane. If there is no search and rescue in the Mediterranean, more lives will be lost. We don’t care.

The only lesson migrants can take from this is the tip to carry a dog with them when seeking refuge, or at the very least a placard saying #JesuisBella.

Meanwhile, if we want to get the attention of anyone at Castille, maybe we should all dress up as fluffy dogs.

krischetcuti@gmail.com
Twitter: @krischetcuti

This is a Times of Malta print opinion piece