What Happens When the Fireworks Are Just Too Loud?

Bangs Before Bedtime: A Family Stroll and the Fireworks We Didn’t Ask For

This weekend, we set out for something simple: a slow, family walk from Gżira to Sliema. Nothing fancy — just a few hours outdoors, letting our two-year-old push her little buggy, wave at strangers, and enjoy being part of the world.

It was peaceful, in that wonderful way Saturdays sometimes are. We got off the bus near Black Gold and noticed the signs of a festa — chairs lined up, a marching band setting up, flags overhead. We didn’t think much of it. The mood felt festive, and the promenade was full of other families doing just what we were: taking the day as it came.

By 5:45pm, we’d reached the ice cream shop by the old Mothercare. Our daughter was beaming with her cone. And then, without warning, came the bang.

Not a pop. Not a sparkle in the sky. One of those ground-shaking, earsplitting, stomach-jolting fireworks that feels like it belongs in a war zone more than a seaside town.

Our daughter jumped out of her skin. So did we. Around us, we saw the same scene play out: children in tears, parents crouched on pavements trying to calm them, toddlers asking to go inside. At least five other families were doing exactly what we did — ducking into the nearest shop for a bit of calm, trying to explain something we hadn’t expected ourselves.

So We’ll Ask the Question: Why?

Why do these fireworks — the loud, daytime, no-visual ones — need to exist? What are they actually achieving?

This isn’t about ending festas. Malta’s village feasts are beautiful, vibrant, and full of heritage. But more and more, young families are asking the same quiet questions — in WhatsApp groups, at the playground, or over coffee: “Why do they have to be so loud?” “Why during nap time?” “Why can’t they give a warning?”

Because here’s the truth: these bangs aren’t harmless. They wake babies. They terrify toddlers. They cause real distress — not just for children, but for pets, elderly neighbours, and even tourists who have no idea what just exploded nearby.

And unlike the colourful nighttime fireworks that draw people in, these ones don’t feel celebratory. They feel intrusive. Aggressive. Completely out of step with the peaceful, everyday joy of a weekend walk with your child.

We’re Not Against Tradition — We’re For Families

There’s no disrespect intended here. Malta is built on strong communities and traditions that matter. But can we admit that not everything needs to be defended just because it’s always been done that way?

Surely we can celebrate without making half the town jump out of their skin.

Surely we can find ways to mark joy that don’t sound like bombs.

And surely, if dozens of families are quietly changing their plans, leaving early, or hiding in shops to protect their toddlers from anxiety and overstimulation — it’s worth talking about.

What Do You Think?

We’ll be sharing this on Facebook because we know we’re not the only ones. If you’ve ever found yourself rocking a baby back to sleep after a 3pm festa bang, or explaining to your toddler that “it’s not a scary noise” while their face says otherwise — we’d love to hear from you.

Whether you agree, disagree, or feel somewhere in between, your voice matters.

Because family-friendly doesn’t just mean ice cream and pushchairs. It means thinking about how we make shared spaces feel safe, welcoming, and a little less jarring — for the smallest among us.