21 OCTOBER 2020
We had no idea how far the disease had spread until the autopsy was carried out. We’d known something was wrong because there was no mistaking that pungent smell of rot and decay.
But when we peered into those dark cavities after the first incision was made and the fragile skin had been peeled back, the full horror of it all became clear.
By then, the culprit was long gone.
The subject of this post-mortem examination was our new apartment building and it soon became obvious it had been sick since birth because of neglect and incompetence.
The shoddy workmanship was breathtaking.
The building was only a few months old when the first cracks began to creep across walls and ceilings like webs spun by drunken spiders.
Whenever it rained water cascaded down the walls of upper-level apartments, softening the plaster and soaking carpets and furniture.
There were pipes unconnected to outlets.
An electrician assessing the wiring pulled apart a fuse box and said: “You’re kidding me.” The brittle plastic in his hands was a cheap, third-rate system made in China that should never have passed inspection.
The strata costs began to mount with no legal way of recovering them from the insurance companies or the developer.
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