Malta’s Grandparents Under Siege: Summer Flu Strain H3N2 Sparks Festa Cancellations and Nursing-Home Lockdowns
Ġuvni Nanna? Influenza A(H3N2) is sweeping through Malta’s over-65s at twice last summer’s pace, leaving families scrambling to reschedule festa fireworks, boat trips and long-awaited weddings that were meant to mark the island’s first restriction-free season since 2019.
Public-health data released yesterday by the Superintendence of Public Health show that laboratory-confirmed H3N2 cases in people aged 65+ jumped from 42 in the whole of June-August 2022 to 89 in the first five weeks of this summer alone. The strain—nicknamed “the nursing-home nemesis” because it triggers pneumonia in frail patients—now accounts for 71 % of all influenza admissions at Mater Dei, up from 38 % last year.
“We’re seeing a classic post-pandemic shift,” explains Dr Charmaine Gauci, appearing visibly tired after a dawn tour of ITU wards. “Two winters of masks and distancing left older immune systems naïve to flu. Now that masks are off and airports are packed, the virus is making up for lost time.”
The timing is brutal. July is when Maltese families traditionally shuttle grandparents to seaside każini for long lunches, then parade them through village festas in open-top karrozzi. This year, St Julian’s feast committee has already cancelled the Sunday ġostra—greasy-pole contest over the water—because six of its senior organisers are bed-ridden. In Rabat, the Band Club president has appealed for volunteers to push wheelchairs after 30 regular musicians caught the bug.
At Dar Sant’Anna nursing home in Mellieħa, manager Pauline Vella shows me a whiteboard marked “RED ZONE”. “We had zero flu in 2020 and 2021,” she sighs. “This July we’ve already swabbed 19 residents. One 88-year-old gentleman who danced at his granddaughter’s June wedding is now on oxygen.” Staff have imposed a soft-lockdown: no outside singers, no communal bingo, and window visits only. “Families stand outside in 38 °C heat, tapping on the glass like they’re in some Italian art-house film,” Vella says. “It’s heartbreaking.”
Pharmacies feel the ripple effect. Andrew Agius, who runs a busy outlet opposite the University, says demand for Tamiflu has tripled. “We’re rationing boxes so pensioners don’t panic-buy. The minute someone hears ‘H3N2’ they remember 2017, when 14 elderly died in one week.” Meanwhile, sales of surgical masks—banished to bargain bins in May—are quietly creeping back up. “Blue masks are the new rosary beads: everyone’s carrying one in their handbag just in case,” Agius jokes.
Tour operators fear a knock-on hit. “British silver-surfers book July cruises precisely because kids are at home,” says Claire Bonello from Valletta Waterfront Travel. “We’ve had 23 cancellations since Monday, all 70-plus. That’s €50 k in refunds.” Restaurants along the Sliema front report half-empty lunchtime terraces; older patrons who usually linger over rabbit stew and a glass of Kinnie are staying indoors.
Health Minister Chris Fearne insists Malta is better prepared than most EU states. “We secured 22,000 extra flu jabs in March, specifically targeting H3N2,” he told reporters outside Castille. Mobile teams are vaccinating in parish halls before 7 a.m. Mass so pensioners can beat the heat. Yet uptake lags at 54 %, well below the WHO 75 % target. “Some still believe flu is ‘winter only’,” Fearne admits. “We’re running TikTok clips with local rapper ‘Il-Kanarin’ to reach grandchildren who can nudge Nanna.”
Back in Gżira, 74-year-old Carmela Camilleri—fresh out of Mater Dei after a five-day stay—sits on her balcony draped in a shawl despite the furnace-like afternoon. “I missed the Marija Addolorata procession for the first time since I was six,” she whispers. “But I’m alive. Next year I’ll walk twice as slow, just to make up for it.”
As the island swelters through its hottest July on record, the message is clear: the pandemic may be over, but the viruses it kept at bay are not. Enjoy summer, Hot Malta readers, but maybe drop a mask in your straw bag—and check on your nannu before you hit the beach.
