Through the Eyes of the Maltese

The first sound you hear as morning arrives over Valletta is the soft, warm chime of church bells striking once from St. John's Co-Cathedral, mingled with the distant cry of a seagull over the Grand Harbour and the scent of fresh pastizzi and coffee drifting from a nearby café. That bell-song carries our story back to a time of sea and stone, when we lived as the Maltese on this small island we called Melita. Our ancestors built temples at Ħaġar Qim and Mnajdra older than the pyramids, caves where they honored the dead, cities like Mdina with walls that withstood centuries of storms. They lived in harmony with the Mediterranean Sea as mother and the limestone as father: fishermen who tamed the sea, farmers who built terraces on the hills, communities where hospitality was sacred and the Knights of Malta protected the world. Every family knew the tales of the Knights of Malta who held firm against the Ottomans in 1565, the feasts of Festa where streets fill with fireworks and processions, the bond stronger than size. That was our golden time: a land of rocks and sea, where people lived with the horizon as promise and history as shield, free and connected by faith and courage.

But then came the wave from outside, like a storm rising from the sea itself. The Phoenicians, Romans, Arabs, Normans, Aragonese, Knights, French, British – all seized our island, built forts to control us, tried to divide us. The British held us until 1964, World War II brought bombs and hunger – Malta earned the George Cross for bravery. Every family knew the loss: a grandfather who survived the Blitz, a child who learned freedom is fragile, a culture that had to adapt to new rulers. Independence in 1964 brought hope, but also the trials of a small island: dependence on tourism, emigration of youth, the pressure of a fast-changing world.

From that depth rises a pride that is warm and welcoming. The pastizzi still baked with love, the festas filling streets with fireworks and processions, the unique Malti language that survived. Our people laughing through hardship, our youth dreaming of a better land, our bond stronger than size. We have found our voice again: the republic in 1974, EU accession in 2004, hope growing in the valleys.

Yet the truth colors magenta like a sunset over the Grand Harbour. The scars remain: memories of the bombardments, emigration of youth, pressure of mass tourism on our islands, challenges of a small nation in a big world. The outside world buys our history as tourism, but often does not feel the depth of a people who never broke.

Still, we remember in silence: on the squares where festas ring out, during Independence Day on 21 September when we raise our flag, in the forts where the spirits still speak – never forgetting who we were. We tell our children of the Knights and of independence, of the sea and the rocks, so they know: we were connected and strong before we were challenged.

And yet… the bell-song continues, clear and persistent, like a promise that the sea always returns. That is our secret: we have suffered under occupations, bombardments, and change, but first we were a land of forts and sea. For our children we build no walls, but a bastion where everyone is welcome. How do we let that bell-song bring freedom to everyone again? How does Malta remain a home of courage and hospitality?

January 2026

Manna Ori

Permezz tal-Għajnejn tal-Malti

L-ewwel ħoss li tisma’ meta l-għodu jasal fuq Valletta huwa l-ħoss artab u sħun tal-qniepen tal-knisja li jdoqq darba waħda mill-Kon-Katidral ta’ San Ġwann, imħallat mal-leħen ’il bogħod ta’ gawwi fuq il-Grand Harbour u r-riħa ta’ pastizzi friski u kafè li ġejja minn kafetterija fil-viċin. Dak il-ħoss tal-qniepen iġorr l-istorja tagħna lura lejn żmien tal-baħar u l-ġebla, meta għexna bħala l-Maltin fuq din il-gżira żgħira li nsejħulha Melita. L-antenati tagħna bnew tempji f’Ħaġar Qim u Mnajdra eqdem mill-piramidi, għerien fejn onoraw l-imwiet, bliet bħal Mdina b’ħitan li żammew għal sekli sħaħ maltempati. Għexu f’armonija mal-Baħar Mediterran bħala omm u l-ġebla tal-franka bħala missier: sajjieda li temmew il-baħar, bdiewa li bnew terrass fuq l-għoljiet, komunitajiet fejn l-ospitalità kienet qaddisa u l-Ordni tar-Rġiel ta’ Malta ħarġu lill-dinja. Kull familja kienet taf l-istejjer tar-Rġiel ta’ Malta li żammew sod kontra t-Torok fl-1565, il-festi ta’ Festa fejn it-toroq jimtlew bin-nar u l-purċissjonijiet, il-ħbiberija li kienet aktar b’saħħitha mill-kobor. Dik kienet iż-żmien tad-deheb tagħna: art ta’ blat u baħar, fejn in-nies għexu bil-orizzont bħala wegħda u l-istorja bħala tarka, ħielsa u konnessi bil-fidi u l-kuraġġ.

Imma mbagħad waslet il-mewġa minn barra, bħal maltemp li tela’ mill-baħar stess. Il-Feniċji, Rumani, Għarab, Normanni, Araguniżi, Rġiel, Franċiżi, Ingliżi – kulħadd ħakem il-gżira tagħna, bnew fortizzi biex jikkontrollawna, ppruvaw jifirduna. L-Ingliżi żammewna sal-1964, it-Tieni Gwerra Dinjija ġabet bombi u ġuħ – Malta ġiet ingħatat il-George Cross għall-kuraġġ. Kull familja kienet taf it-telf: nannu li għadda mill-Blitz, tifel li tgħallem li l-libertà hi fraġli, kultura li kellha tadatta għal ġodda ħakkiema. L-indipendenza fl-1964 ġabet tama, imma wkoll il-provi ta’ gżira żgħira: dipendenza mit-turiżmu, emigrazzjoni taż-żgħażagħ, il-pressjoni ta’ dinja li tinbidel malajr.

Min dik il-fond joħroġ kburija sħuna u ospitali. Il-pastizzi li għadhom jinħmew b’imħabba, il-festi li jimlew it-toroq bin-nar u l-purċissjonijiet, il-lingwa unika Malti li baqgħet ħajja. In-nies tagħna li jidħku minn fuq id-diffikultajiet, iż-żgħażagħ li joħolmu b’art aħjar, il-ħbiberija tagħna li aktar b’saħħitha mill-kobor. Irġajna sibtna: ir-repubblika fl-1974, l-adeżjoni mal-UE fl-2004, it-tama li tikber fil-widien.

Imma l-verità tingħalaq magenta bħal inżul ix-xemx fuq il-Grand Harbour. Il-ċikatriċi jibqgħu: it-tifkira tal-bombardamenti, l-emigrazzjoni taż-żgħażagħ, il-pressjoni tat-turiżmu tal-massa fuq il-gżejjer tagħna, l-isfidi ta’ pajjiż żgħir fid-dinja l-kbira. Id-dinja ta’ barra tixtri l-istorja tagħna bħala turiżmu, imma spiss ma tħossx il-fond ta’ poplu li qatt ma kiser.

Madankollu... niftakru fis-silenzju: fil-pjazez fejn idoqq il-festi, matul il-Jum l-Indipendenza fil-21 ta’ Settembru meta nżommu l-bandiera tagħna, fil-fortizzi fejn l-ispirti għadhom jitkellmu – qatt ma ninsew min konna. Ngħidu lit-tfal tagħna dwar ir-Rġiel u l-indipendenza, dwar il-baħar u l-blat, biex ikunu jafu: konna konnessi u sħaħ qabel ma ġejna sfidfati.

U madankollu… il-ħoss tal-qniepen jibqa’ sejjer, ċar u persistenti, bħal wegħda li l-baħar dejjem jerġa’ lura. Dak hu s-sir tagħna: sofrijna taħt okkupazzjonijiet, bombardamenti u bidla, imma l-ewwel konna art ta’ fortizzi u baħar. Għat-tfal tagħna ma nbnewx ħitan, imma bastjun fejn kulħadd huwa merħba. Kif inħallu dak il-ħoss tal-qniepen jerġa’ iġib il-libertà għal kulħadd, kif tibqa’ Malta dar ta’ kuraġġ u ospitalità?

Jannar 2026

Manna Ori