Growing up, I spent a fair bit of time with some older female relatives. Whenever my brother and I argued and failed to reach a compromise, they always urged me to give in, arguing that when I grew up and had my own family I’d be the one responsible for ‘keeping the peace’.

This was my introduction to the patriarchal culture that still pervades Maltese society. I have since discovered I am expected to be pleasant and agreeable at all times and that a woman who holds her ground in an argument is viewed as bossy and troublesome while a man who does the same is strong and assertive. I have since also learnt that these expectations are wrong and have tried to behave accordingly but I’ve found that it’s really hard to shake off all that has been drilled into you from a very young age.

This is one of the reasons why I admired Daphne Caruana Galizia. Beyond her journalistic skills, dedication and bravery, I admired her strength and her apparent complete disregard of people’s opinions of her. She was not concerned with being viewed as nice or with being liked and she never seemed to doubt herself, even when I thought she was taking things too far or going off on tangents I found irrelevant. All she cared about was speaking her mind, on her own terms.

That’s remarkable enough for any person living in Malta, where the size and mentality mean that getting on the wrong side of any person who holds an ounce of influence can make life unduly hard for you. It is even more remarkable for a woman raised 20 years before me in what must have been an even more male-dominated environment than the one I’ve experienced.

The horror that has been done cannot be undone but, at this point, another great injustice would be to let ourselves forget what Caruana Galizia stood for and what she ultimately sacrificed her life for.

In my own small way, I will try to take a leaf out of her book by speaking up for what I think is right, rather than taking the easy way out and saying nothing to keep what is often a very uncomfortable peace.