Another emergency unfolded last week in St George's Pjazza in Victoria, and once again, the pjazza failed the person who needed help the most. A man collapsed inside the Basilica, and a maze of tables, chairs, and shop displays blocked, delayed, and hindered the emergency services. In the time to move obstacles by hand, a life slipped closer to the edge.

This was not an isolated incident. It was not a freak accident. It was the latest and most painful example of a broken system that has allowed commercial greed and bureaucratic apathy to strangle the very streets that should be open and safe for everyone. And unless bold action follows, it will not be the last.

The story is devastating in its details. A 62-year-old man fainted inside the church just before mass. Paramedics arrived as fast as they could, only to find their path into the pjazza blocked at every turn. The ambulance driver himself had to step out and physically move chairs and tables to make way. Meanwhile, a heart was fighting its last battle inside the Basilica. It is unbearable to think about how those precious minutes wasted in clearing obstacles could have changed the outcome.

While they remained motionless, the surrounding crowd displayed a multitude of responses, from expressions of surprise and curiosity to whispers of disapproval and disinterest. But no one had cleared the way beforehand. No one had demanded: is the pjazza accessible for emergencies? The attitude was clear: it is someone else's problem. It always is, until the tragedy hits close enough to tear through the heart.

The abuse of public space in St George's Pjazza is no secret. Catering outlets stretch their tables across pavements, set up stalls that block the street, and act as though the pjazza belongs to them alone. Pedestrians have to squeeze past with pushchairs bumping against obstacles, and ambulances have to reverse but cannot proceed any further. Government officials nod, promise change, and then walk away. Year after year, complaint after complaint, nothing changes because no one has the guts to force it to change.

The police patrol daily, but tables and stands remain. They nod at familiar faces, issue the occasional gentle warning, but leave the situation as they find it. Enforcement has become a performance, not a reality. It is a show of authority without substance, and for emergency response, that hollow performance may cost lives.

Authorities have never performed a serious drill in St George's Pjazza to test ambulance response times. No simulation has ever exposed just how badly the current situation endangers lives. In a place that hosts weddings, funerals, festivals, and daily church services, not planning for emergencies is reckless beyond measure. It is gambling with human lives every single day.

There are practical solutions, but willpower is missing. Ministers speak about slimmer ambulances, yet even the thinnest vehicle cannot pass if a shop souvenir stand or table blocks the street. Some cities use paramedic motorcycles to deliver emergency first aid, but even that requires space to navigate. Folding stretchers and electric carts offer some hope, but they too become useless if streets turn into obstruction courses. Clever vehicles cannot substitute for basic common sense: an open way must always exist.

This is not a question of inconvenience. It is a question of survival. Public pjazzas must serve the public first, not the private gains of a handful of businesses. Authorities must, for once, ignore political interference and establish, mark, respect, and enforce emergency lanes. Chairs and tables can add charm and life to a pjazza, but not when they choke off access needed to save someone gasping for air.

When police walk through the pjazza, they must not simply nod at familiar faces. They must act and enforce without political favours and influence. Action must become real, visible, and immediate. Warnings followed by hefty fines on the spot for any obstruction. Any business that consistently misuses or obstructs public access should face immediate and automatic revocation of its trading licence, a consequence that should serve as a powerful deterrent against such actions. Catering owners must realise that their tables are not the centre of the universe. Their customers' coffee does not outweigh a human life. Residents must stop treating blocked streets as normal. Passersby must stop shrugging and looking away. A culture of vigilance must replace the culture of indifference. 

Every major public space must undergo regular emergency access drills. Considering the time ambulances take to reach the pjazza is of utmost importance, while planning and testing alternative access strategies. Shopowners must be compelled to witness these drills and to see for themselves how their stalls, their tables, their careless layouts cost minutes that can mean the difference between life and death.

We must stop treating tragedy as an unfortunate twist of fate. When government authorities irresponsibly allow a public pjazza to become a death trap, it is not fate. It is a choice made by all who turned a blind eye or bowed to a minister's request. It is a failure shared by police who refused to act, by the Victoria Local Council who buried problems under reports, by ministries who shifted responsibility elsewhere, by businesses who put profits above people, and by citizens who stood by in silence.

The human cost of inaction is too high to ignore any longer. It is not only about those who collapse inside churches. Accidents involving children needing ambulances, falls by older adults at crowded events, fires in congested areas, and delays because of obstructions point to serious problems.

The man's sister voiced the pain felt by every family that faces the agony of watching a loved one slip away helplessly. She asked why no one helped clear the way faster. She asked where humanity had gone. Her voice must not be another cry that fades into the wind. It must be the call that shakes us to act.

The Basilica's parish priest's anger is justified. When he says that the pjazza returned to "business as usual" the next day, it cuts deep. It shows how short our memory has become. It shows how low our tolerance for avoidable suffering has sunk. We mourn today, we forget tomorrow, and we prepare ourselves to be shocked all over again the next time tragedy strikes.

Gozo's Ministry and the Health Ministry promise coordination, exploration of new vehicles, better enforcement. Good words, necessary words, but these words are not enough. We must implement tangible and immediate change. The public needs to retake control of public spaces. Safety must no longer be negotiable.

We must create a system where the first ambulance to arrive finds unobstucted access, not a battlefield of obstacles. To avoid stretchers competing with chairs and vendors, we need a new culture. We must create a mindset where life always, always comes first.

Or else, we must be honest and admit that we are prepared to sacrifice more lives at the altar of laziness and greed. We must be honest and admit that another ambulance will soon stop, another driver will soon climb out, another life will soon flicker and fade while we watch, powerless not because we had no choice but because we allowed it.

The emergency in St George's Pjazza is a mirror. It reflects who we have become. Whether we like the image we see depends entirely on what we choose to do next.