Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/1546491
maltatoday | SUNDAY • 6 SEPTEMBER 2026 YORGEN FENECH TRIAL on the trial of the century We came from competing news- rooms, but inside Hall 22 that rivalry often turned to comradery. For weeks, we sat shoulder to shoul- der. We exchanged looks when some- thing unbelievable was said, helped each other catch words someone had missed and shared chargers, informa- tion, exhaustion and nerves. When the defence announced Yor- gen Fenech himself would testify, there was a collective moment of shock. Then came panic. Laptops opened. Messages flew and liveblogs across Malta became populated with up- dates. The waiting game As the trial approached its end, one question dominated everything: When would the verdict come? The exhaustion was visible even among the jurors. One struggled to keep his eyes open during submis- sions. A reserve juror spent days drawing on a piece of paper. I sometimes wondered what she was drawing. Perhaps the courtroom? Af- ter all, it had become something of a home to all of us. Then, on 2 September at exactly 11:01am, Judge Grima sent the jurors to deliberate. "God be with you," she told them. Those words sent shivers down my spine. Then came seven hours and 52 min- utes of waiting. If I had to describe those hours in one word, it would be anxiety. I sat down in the court building press room. I worked. I went outside for some air. I came back in. Then back out again. At exactly 6:53pm, the message came: "They're done." They were ready. My heart started racing. I grabbed my laptop and ran upstairs to the balcony I spent the previous two months in. Eight votes to one When we finally entered the balco- ny, the journalist beside me pressed my hand. Maybe we both needed grounding. After 55 days, this was it. Police officers lined the balcony. Then came the familiar knock an- nouncing the judge's entrance. Everyone stood. The jurors entered. They were asked whether they had reached a verdict. "Yes, we have decided," the chief ju- ror told the court. Then came the first count. "Not guilty, by eight votes to one." Heavy breathing could be heard across the courtroom. Then the second. Again: "Not guilty, eight votes to one." And suddenly, everything that had been contained inside Hall 22 for al- most two months exploded at once. There was a shout from Fenech and his legal team. From Daphne's family came cries of anguish. One of her sisters rushed out. I felt shivers down my spine. Shortly afterwards, I went outside court. Cameras, lights and journalists were everywhere. I was not simply tired anymore. I felt drained. Eventually, Fenech emerged with his lawyers. Journalists ran after him as police tried to clear a path towards his car. We pushed forward, trying to get a reaction from the most popular man in Malta during the summer. His answer was that whatever he had to say, he had already said during his testimony in court. Then the car door closed, and Fenech was whisked away. Fifty-five days had passed since we first stood sweating outside Hall 22 waiting for the trial to be begin. But as I walked away that night, one thing felt certain: this courtroom chapter may have closed, but this sto- ry is far from over. As I walked away that night, one thing felt certain: this courtroom chapter may have closed, but this story is far from over Yorgen Fenech walked out of the law courts on Wednesday a free man (Photo: James Bianchi/ MaltaToday) Law court (Photo: James Bianchi/MaltaToday) Shortly afterwards, I went outside court. Cameras, lights and journalists were everywhere