Żabbar mum admits stealing €15k from Sliema travel agency, blames tramadol spiral in landmark Malta opioid case

**Woman admits misappropriating €15,000, blames drugs as court hears of spiral from painkillers to €100-a-day habit**

A 34-year-old mother-of-two from Żabbar broke down in Malta’s Criminal Court on Tuesday as she admitted to siphoning €15,000 from the Sliema travel agency where she worked, telling Judge Consuelo Scerri Herrera that a “harmless” prescription for tramadol after a dental implant had escalated into a €100-a-day street addiction that “hijacked” her life.

The case, which has sent ripples through Malta’s tight-knit tourism sector, shines a harsh light on the island’s hidden opioid problem and the ease with which legitimate pain management can slide into financial ruin. Prosecuting inspector Claire Borg explained that the accused, whose name is withheld to protect her young children, began falsifying refunds on cancelled excursions in January 2022, funnelling cash into her personal Revolut before the firm’s auditors noticed discrepancies last October.

“She was the smiling face customers trusted with their honeymoons and retirement cruises,” a former colleague told *Hot Malta* outside the courtroom. “We never suspected—she brought *pastizzi* for everyone every Friday.” The betrayal has left the 25-employee agency—already battered by COVID-19—scrambling to reassure partners and clients. Managing director Karl Camilleri revealed the company has since installed biometric safes and mandatory two-signature authorisations, lamenting that “in Malta you still want to believe you’re dealing with *nies ta’ fiduċja*—people of trust.”

Defence lawyer Franco Debono argued that his client’s story is “quintessentially Maltese”: a woman caught between caring for elderly parents in a crumbling Valletta townhouse and keeping up appearances at her children’s private school. “We’re an island where family reputation is currency,” Debono said. “She couldn’t admit she needed help; the shame felt bigger than the crime.”

Court-appointed psychologist Dr. Katya Muscat testified that prescription-opioid dependence is rising fastest among Maltese women aged 30-45, often triggered by routine dental or cosmetic procedures. “We’ve recorded a 40 % increase in opioid-related clinic admissions since 2019,” she told the judge. “Yet our only inpatient detox unit still has just 12 beds—six for men, six for women—meaning waits of up to six weeks.”

The accused told the court she began selling her children’s *Communion* gift vouchers and pawning her mother’s gold *ħeluwa* jewellery to feed the habit, behaviour she now recognises as “textbook escalation”. Support group Opioid Relief Malta says her trajectory mirrors hundreds of others who turn to the shadow market when prescriptions dry up, with tramadol tablets selling for €8-€10 each in Marsa car parks.

Community reaction in Żabbar has been split between sympathy and outrage. Parish priest Fr. Anton Cassar used Sunday’s homily to urge compassion, noting that the village’s *festa* committee had just raised €15,000 for new *kaxxa tal-martar* fireworks—exactly the amount stolen. “One sum buys gunpowder for a night’s applause,” he told congregants. “The other fed an illness. Which is the bigger waste?”

Meanwhile, the accused’s children have been removed from their fee-paying school and enrolled in the local state college; parents there have launched a crowdfunding page to cover therapy costs, arguing that “Malta’s village-raised kids deserve better than to inherit their mothers’ shame.”

Judge Scerri Herrera ordered a pre-sentencing report, indicating she will consider drug-treatment provisions introduced in 2022 that allow courts to replace jail time with supervised rehabilitation. The woman faces up to four years imprisonment, but if the treatment order is granted she could serve her sentence at the new Għajn Dwieli female wing while attending daily therapy at Mount Carmel Hospital.

As the hearing adjourned, the accused’s father—himself a retired bus driver—stood at the courtroom door clutching a plastic bag of her childhood photos. “We’re not asking for forgiveness,” he whispered. “Just a chance to get our daughter back.” Whether Malta’s courts—and its close-knit communities—can balance justice with the growing understanding of addiction will set precedent for similar cases looming on the docket.