Xewkija’s Quietest Revolution: Construction Hibernation

Exam Season Sends Jackhammers Packing

Imagine a world where the relentless symphony of construction comes to a sudden halt. Where the customary “clang” and “bang” give way to – dare we say it – silence. This isn’t a utopian dream nor a scene from a Twilight Zone episode. It’s the reality in Xewkija, a village where students’ pleas for peace have sent shockwaves through the local building industry.

The Sounds of Silence

In a move that has left both students and sparrows chirping in jubilation, the Xewkija council, under the visionary leadership of Mayor Wistin Tabib, has declared a moratorium on all construction activities during the bustling exam season. That’s right! As of today, you’re more likely to hear a pin drop than a drill in this once cacophonous corner of Gozo.

The Faces Behind the Quiet Revolution

Meet Zammit, a local student studying for his A-levels, who’s convinced that even the Ġgantija temples were shaking less during their construction than his living room during his physics revision. And there’s Katrina, a third-year LSE student, whose dissertation on “The Effects of Noise Pollution on the Maltese Festas” was ironically drowned out by the sound of nearby excavations.

Together, they formed the silent (but deadly) advocacy group “Ħoss Baxx, Għarfien Għoli” (Low Noise, High Knowledge), rallying the student body with Facebook memes that juxtaposed pastizzi wrappers with soundproofing materials. Their message, encapsulating both humor and desperation, resonated through the streets like the church bells of Mdina on a quiet Sunday morning.

“You know it’s serious when you can actually hear your own thoughts over the din,” exclaimed Zammit, as he celebrated the newfound tranquility with a ħobż biż-żejt picnic at the serene Xewkija square.

Plot Twist: A Hush Falls Over the Contractors

The builders, infamous for starting their morning operas at the ungodly hour of 6 am, found themselves reeling from the unexpected silence. Miċ-Ċaqnu, a veteran builder known for his tattoo of a cement mixer, expressed his confusion in a candid interview with ‘Times of Mela.’

“Uwejja, I thought my jackhammer ran out of juice,” Miċ-Ċaqnu scratched his head, his voice almost a whisper. “But hey, maybe I can finally take up that harmonica solo I’ve been putting off for years.”

Some contractors, initially angered by the decision, soon discovered a silver lining as they embarked on a “silent retreat,” finding solace in yoga poses amidst the unfinished skeletons of apartment blocks.

The Ripple Effect

The council’s decision sparked a trend, with neighboring towns Valletta and Mdina quickly following suit. They introduced new regulations such as “Silent Saturdays” and “Meditative Mondays,” creating a ripple effect that some are calling “the quietening of Malta.”

In an unforeseen turn of events, the local fauna also benefited. Reports have surfaced of nightingales hosting their own “Malta’s Got Talent” in the absence of ear-splitting noise. Nature, it seems, has taken a liking to this new auditory landscape!

The Punchline

As June edges closer and the clang of construction is set to crescendo once more, students across Xewkija can’t help but revel in their triumph. Despite the temporary nature of this auditory armistice, ‘Times of Mela’ wonders, could this mark the beginning of a quieter era for Malta? Could it be that the hammer has come down on noise pollution, even if it’s just for a spell?

Lessons Learned?

The Xewkija council’s avant-garde move begs the question, “Kollox possibbli?” Is everything possible? It might just be a lark or a blip in the constant hustle of Maltese life, but for the students of Xewkija, it’s a hushed victory worth every decibel saved. The Times of Mela bids adieu, but just for now, as we too enjoy this silent interlude. Mela, who knows what the next volume might bring?