Broken promises, crumbling heritage: Gozo deserves more than press conferences | Luke Said

Luke Said is a PN general election candidate for the 13 District

Beneath Gozo’s surface of the sun-kissed bays, winding valleys and terraced fields lies a deep, complex history, carved in stone and shaped by centuries of empires, settlements and myths.

It is truly a story as old as time, or at least as old as bureaucracy itself. And yet, too often, the very sites that carry this legacy have been left to deteriorate over time. A public announcement, a wave of applause, and then… nothing.

This is not just a frustrating cycle. It’s dangerous. It puts at risk the very soul of our island, our history, our heritage, our identity. Two sites stand out today as symbols of this failure: the Rabat aqueduct and Calypso’s Cave above Ramla l-Ħamra.

The Rabat aqueduct, built during British rule in the mid-1800s, stands—just barely—as one of the few remaining examples of civil engineering that is both functional and symbolic. It once carried water across the island to Victoria; now, it carries the weight of decades of institutional neglect.

In 2022, the Gozo ministry announced a full-scale restoration, complete with timeframes. By 2025, we were told, the structure would be stabilised, renewed, celebrated. It is now 2025. There has been no restoration, no progress, and certainly no celebration.

As the minister himself stated in a parliamentary reply on 26 May 2025 (PQ:28596), what has been done over the past three years is the “shoring up of the main arch” and the issuance of the tender for conservation works and “technical talks”.

Apart from a single support beam wedged beneath a single arch, an almost comical attempt at reassurance, there is nothing to show for all the pomp announced in 2022. The arches remain exposed. The stonework continues to erode. There are no workers on site. No tools. No scaffolding. Just the wind, the sun, and the slow decay of what was once a public promise.

And the question echoes loudly across the arches: How can something legally protected, historically priceless, and visibly collapsing remain in this state? Where are the answers? Where is the urgency?

Designation is symbolic, but toothless; a legal status with no practical effect. It is the kind of gesture designed to tick boxes, not to drive outcomes. And so, we arrive at the uncomfortable truth: Gozo’s heritage is not being preserved, it is being performed. We are offered announcements in place of maintenance; legal designations in place of work, and commemorative statements in place of competent management.

Unfortunately, this isn’t an isolated case.

Overlooking Ramla Bay sits Calypso’s Cave. Said to be the home of the nymph who detained Odysseus in Homer’s Odyssey, Calypso’s Cave has captured the imagination of visitors for generations. But in Gozo, the real epic isn’t Homeric, it’s bureaucratic. The cave was closed to the public over safety concerns around 13 years ago. By 2019, a government-funded study was launched. In 2020, official plans were submitted. In March 2024, the Planning Authority granted the final permit. And now, in 2025? Still closed. Still silent. Still fenced off.

Let’s be clear—heritage isn’t protected by PowerPoints. It’s not preserved by press conferences. It’s not saved by ministerial walkabouts or ribbon-cutting rehearsals. This is not a problem of complexity. It is not a question of whether there is enough funding, or enough

expertise, or enough interest. The money exists. The permits exist. What is missing is a functioning chain of execution, a willingness to govern heritage not as a branding tool, but as a serious responsibility.

Years pass not because the work is difficult, but because it has not been made a priority. The damage cuts deeper than mere physical neglect. Heritage sites are not just stones and stories; they are also symbols of collective memory. When we let them fall into ruin, we communicate something corrosive. We tell people their past is disposable. We tell communities their identity can be shelved until convenient. And we tell the next generation that cultural stewardship is optional, so long as the social media posts are well-lit and the slogans carefully chosen.

The Gozo ministry has every instrument it needs. What it lacks is resolve. The kind of political will that follows through once the applause dies down. We are not asking for miracles. We are asking for competence.

The people of Gozo need transparency and accountability. We need follow-through.

The silence is loud. But it shouldn't be the final word.

If the ministry wants to play Homer, that’s fine. But then finish the epic. Deliver the last chapter. Reopen the cave. Restore the aqueduct. And stop letting our history crumble beneath layers of good intentions and bad management.