Malta has barely finished mopping up after Storm Harry, and Prime Minister Robert Abela finds himself caught in another tempest.

Storm Roderick is not a weather phenomenon, but a political one, and unlike its meteorological counterpart, it has not passed. It is still raging, fuelled by unanswered questions, inconsistent decisions, and a growing sense that something in the Prime Minister's handling of the situation simply does not add up.

Roderick Galdes' resignation as Minister for Affordable Housing was not sudden. It came after months of scrutiny, headlines, and public unease over his reported close proximity to powerful contractors, his extensive property portfolio, and astonishingly favourable deals with some of Malta's largest developers - all while overseeing a sector where the state is a major player. Galdes insists these were "attacks", maintains he has done nothing wrong, and says his resignation will allow him to defend his and his family's integrity so that the "full truth" can emerge.

Prime Minister Abela says he accepted the resignation. But how, and more importantly when, he did so is at the heart of Storm Roderick.

In the previous weeks, Abela was publicly defending Galdes, dismissing calls for him to step aside. Then Galdes resigns and Abela accepts - with the Prime Minister however insisting that "nothing had changed" in the intervening time. Yet in the same breath, Abela explains that Galdes chose to resign so as not to overshadow the government's work and to safeguard the party's interests.

That contradiction is impossible to ignore. If nothing changed, why did the outcome change? If there was no new information, no shift in circumstances, then what justified the reversal? Politics does not operate in a vacuum. Pressure, perception, and credibility matter. Saying "nothing changed" while acting as though everything did weakens the Prime Minister's position rather than strengthening it.

The sense of unease is magnified when Galdes' case is compared with how Abela dealt with another ministerial resignation - that of Clayton Bartolo. Bartolo was not only forced to resign; he was expelled from the Labour Party parliamentary group, effectively cast into political exile and, 14 months later, is still waiting for answers. Galdes, by contrast, is praised for putting "the party and government before himself" and remains within the party's ranks.

Abela used remarkably similar language in both cases, lauding each man's decision to quit to protect the party. Yet the consequences could not be more different. One is ostracised, the other embraced. One is punished, the other reassured. The question is unavoidable: what criteria are being applied, and to whom?

One also wonders what Bartolo must be thinking today. If resignation is an honourable act, why was he treated as a liability while Galdes is portrayed as a martyr? Storm Roderick is fuelled not just by allegations against one man, but by the perception that standards are flexible and accountability uneven.

There is also a broader governance issue that Abela has yet to convincingly address. With the resignations of Bartolo and Galdes, the Prime Minister has effectively reduced his ministerial team by two. Their portfolios have been redistributed to an existing minister and a parliamentary secretary, without promoting the latter to full ministerial rank.

Abela argues that housing has been elevated in importance by being placed under the Office of the Prime Minister. That may be true administratively, but politically it sends troubling signals. It suggests a lack of faith in parliamentary secretaries, and an even deeper lack of confidence in the 18 Labour backbenchers who remain permanently on the sidelines. With an election looming, this would have been the ideal moment to inject fresh responsibility into the parliamentary group - to give someone new the chance to learn, perform, and be tested. Instead, Abela chose concentration of power over renewal.

And the warning signs around Galdes were there long before his resignation. Perhaps the most glaring came on the eve of the 2024 MEP and local council elections, when it emerged that 99 people had switched their address to an unfinished social housing block in Siġġiewi. The incident triggered accusations of gerrymandering in a fiercely contested locality. A court later ruled that residents had been "shamefully manipulated" into signing false declarations. The political fallout was immediate and costly: Labour lost control of the Siġġiewi council.

That episode should have rung alarm bells at the highest level. Instead, it appears to have been brushed aside. Galdes had been responsible for the housing portfolio since 2017 - first as parliamentary secretary, then as minister from 2020. Perhaps he had simply been in the role for too long. A reshuffle or a transfer to a different portfolio might have defused the pressure and signalled responsiveness. Nothing of the sort happened.

Storm Roderick is therefore not just about one resignation. It is about timing, consistency, judgment, and leadership. It is about a Prime Minister who first defends a minister, then accepts his resignation, while insisting that nothing has changed. It is about unequal consequences for similar situations. And it is about opportunities missed to strengthen governance and restore trust.

This storm is still very much alive. And until these contradictions are addressed head-on, Prime Minister Abela will remain firmly at its centre.