PN MP Slams Malta’s Deportation of 3 Ethiopians After 18 Years: ‘They Were Part of Us’

**PN MP Sounds Alarm Over Deportation of Long-Time Ethiopian Residents After 15-18 Years in Malta**

In a case that has sent shockwaves through Malta’s tight-knit migrant communities, Nationalist Party MP and home affairs spokesperson Beppe Fenech Adami has condemned the deportation of three Ethiopian nationals who had lived, worked, and built lives in Malta for 15 to 18 years. The trio—whose names have not been released for privacy reasons—were removed from the island last week after their final asylum appeals were rejected, despite having spent more than a decade contributing to the local economy, paying taxes, and integrating into Maltese society.

“This is not just a bureaucratic decision—it’s a human tragedy,” Fenech Adami told *Hot Malta*. “These individuals had planted roots here. They had jobs, friends, and in one case, a child born and raised in Malta. We’re not talking about recent arrivals. We’re talking about people who have become part of our social fabric.”

The deportations come amid a broader crackdown by Malta’s immigration authorities, who have faced increasing pressure from EU partners to reduce the number of long-term undocumented migrants. But the move has sparked outrage among NGOs, faith groups, and local employers, many of whom see it as a betrayal of Malta’s historically inclusive identity.

“Malta has always prided itself on being a crossroads of cultures,” said Maria Camilleri, who runs a community centre in Marsa that serves migrant families. “But what does it say about us when we deport someone who’s been here for nearly two decades? Who speaks Maltese, whose kids go to our schools, who celebrates Santa Marija with us?”

One of the deported men, a 42-year-old who worked as a chef in a St Julian’s restaurant, had been in Malta since 2007. His employer, who asked not to be named, described him as “the backbone of the kitchen.” “Customers loved him. He learned Maltese, he knew the recipes better than some Maltese chefs. And now he’s just gone. No goodbye. No notice. It’s cruel.”

The case has also reignited debate over Malta’s asylum system, which has been criticised for its lengthy backlogs and lack of clear pathways to regularisation. According to the Agency for the Welfare of Asylum Seekers (AWAS), there are currently over 1,000 long-term residents whose asylum applications remain pending—some for over a decade.

“We’re creating a class of invisible Maltese,” said lawyer and human rights activist Neil Falzon. “People who live here, work here, pay rent, fall in love, but are never given the dignity of legal status. And when the system finally catches up, it’s not to integrate them—it’s to erase them.”

The deportations have hit particularly hard in Ħamrun and Marsa, where Ethiopian and Eritrean communities have become integral to the local economy. Shopkeepers report quieter streets, and parish priests say church pews feel emptier. “They weren’t just passing through,” said Fr. Joe Borg of St. Cajetan Parish. “They were part of our community. They danced at our festa. They mourned with us when someone died. This isn’t just policy—it’s personal.”

Fenech Adami has called for an urgent review of cases involving long-term residents, urging the government to consider humanitarian grounds and family ties. “We need compassion, not just compliance,” he said. “Malta is better than this.”

As the island grapples with its identity in an increasingly complex migration landscape, the deportations have left a lingering question: what does it mean to be Maltese? Is it a matter of paperwork, or of belonging?

For now, the empty stools at a once-bustling Marsa barber shop and the silent kitchen in St Julian’s serve as quiet reminders of lives uprooted—and of a country still searching for its conscience.