Financial analysis: PG gears up for investment phase

PG plc’s latest set of accounts, filed quietly at the end of May, reads less like a dry spreadsheet and more like a Maltese summer blockbuster. Revenue up 12 %, net debt sliced by a quarter, and—most eye-catching of all—a €110 million war-chest earmarked for “strategic expansion” over the next three years. In a country where €110 million is roughly the cost of rebuilding three kilometres of coastal road (and the inevitable traffic-management theatrics that follow), that is serious lira. For the uninitiated, PG is the home-grown group behind Malta’s only two gas-fired power stations and the red-and-white cylinders that keep our Sunday roasts from becoming charcoal experiments. In other words, it is woven into the daily rhythm of every Maltese household.

The numbers are impressive, but the sub-text is pure Maltese soap opera. CEO Etienne Bonello’s statement hints at “renewables, hydrogen-ready infrastructure, and data-driven efficiency.” Translation: PG wants to pivot from being the island’s reliable-but-unsexy uncle to its eco-conscious, tech-savvy cousin. This matters because Malta’s energy mix is still 80 % fossil-fuel heavy, and Brussels is breathing down our necks with ever-tighter carbon ceilings. PG’s pivot could decide whether we hit our 2030 climate targets—or spend the next decade writing hefty cheques to the EU’s penalty box.

Walk into any village band club this week and you will hear the same debate: “Will my Enemalta bill finally drop, or will the savings end up in some Dubai fund?” The suspicion is not unfounded. Last year PG declared a €24 million dividend; shareholders toasted with flutes of chilled Ġellewża while everyone else sweated through record-high tariffs. Yet the company also runs a €2 million annual community fund that sponsors festa fireworks, youth football tournaments and even the Għanafest folk concerts. It is the classic Maltese paradox: corporate generosity and public mistrust dancing the żifna in the village square.

If PG’s investment phase unfolds as planned, the first shovels could hit the ground in Delimara by Q1 2025. That corner of the island—half lunar landscape of concrete stacks, half Instagram-friendly coves—has long been our national energy nerve-centre. A new 50 MW solar-plus-storage farm is rumoured, along with a pilot hydrogen-blending facility. Locals are already placing bets on which contractor will land the earthworks: Polidano’s yellow fleet or the new Turkish consortium that arrived with cranes taller than Mosta dome. Either way, the Marsaxlokk fishermen expect disruption; their lampuki season coincides with preliminary dredging schedules. PG has promised “community liaison officers” who speak both Maltese and Marsaxlokk dialect—a small but telling olive branch.

Then there is the human capital angle. The University of Malta’s engineering faculty has seen a 35 % uptick in applicants since PG announced a €5 million scholarship pipeline. Lecturers joke that “future-proofing the grid” has become sexier than “future-proofing the Eurovision entry.” Meanwhile, MCAST is revamping its renewable-energy diploma, complete with VR modules set inside PG’s turbines. For a generation raised on TikTok and tales of their parents’ 1980s power cuts, the prospect of working on home-grown green tech is almost patriotic.

Of course, none of this happens in a vacuum. The Planning Authority still needs to approve any new structures higher than a traditional girna, and the environmental NGOs are sharpening their press-release pencils. But the mood among policy-makers is pragmatic. Energy Minister Miriam Dalli, speaking at a recent business breakfast in Valletta, praised PG’s “Malta-first approach” while reminding everyone that “the nation’s future cannot be mortgaged to yesterday’s molecules.” Translation: we like your money, but we like our grandchildren’s lungs more.

As the sun sets over St. Peter’s Pool this weekend, swimmers will see the Delimara chimney silhouetted against a magenta sky. Some will curse it as an eyesore; others will whisper a quiet “grazzi” for the air-conditioning that awaits them at home. Either way, PG’s next chapter is being written in real time, and it is unmistakably Maltese—equal parts ambition, scepticism, and that stubborn hope that we can still cook our rabbit stew without cooking the planet.