On 2 January 2022, Paulina Dembska, a 29-year-old Polish student, was found dead in Independence Gardens in Sliema, Malta. Investigations revealed that she had been raped and murdered—an act that profoundly shocked the nation. Paulina was known to visit the gardens in the early morning to feed and care for the cats there, a quiet reflection of the kindness and compassion that defined her life. Those who knew her remember her as a deeply loving and gentle person.
She had done nothing to deserve such violence. She did not know her attacker, who had reportedly assaulted two other individuals near the gardens shortly before the crime. In the days and weeks that followed her death, vigils and memorials were held across Malta, as people came together in grief and in a shared call for justice. Today, benches and walls in and around Independence Gardens bear her name and image, a lasting tribute to her memory.
The suspect was arrested soon after the murder and has remained in custody awaiting trial ever since. At the time of the offence, he was already on probation and had a history of criminal behaviour dating back to his youth. In 2025, while in custody, he reportedly carried out another violent attack, stabbing a fellow inmate in the eye with a pen. Yet, more than four years later, no trial has taken place. For Paulina’s parents and her five siblings in Poland, the wait for justice—and for some measure of closure—continues. It is difficult to understand how such delays can persist in a case of this gravity.
“The structure of world stability and order hath been reared upon, and will continue to be sustained by, the twin pillars of reward and punishment.”
Each day, as I pass the memorials dedicated to Paulina, I find myself asking why justice moves so slowly. What message does this send to victims of violence, past and present? What does it signal to those who might commit such acts? Justice delayed risks becoming justice denied—not only for Paulina, but for all who look to the system for protection and accountability.
At one of the vigils in 2022, Paulina’s family shared a poem she had written. It remains a powerful reminder of her voice, her humanity, and the values she held:
“You came naked, you’ll go naked away.
You came defenceless and weak,
you’ll be so weak and vulnerable again when you leave.
You came without money or material things.
You will also leave without money.
Your first shower was when someone washed you.
In your last one, some person will wash you.
That is what being a human being is like.
So why so much pride?
Why so much malice?
Why so much jealousy, so much hatred,
resentment and selfishness?
We have limited time on earth so why do we waste it so senselessly?”
— Paulina Dembska
Please remember Paulina, and keep her family and loved ones in your thoughts and prayers.
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