Andriana Art Poetry

Albania needs investment. It needs strong relations with Europe, the United States, Italy, Serbia, and every country with which it can build peace and development. But there is one question politics can no longer avoid: Who is Albania being built for? A country does not develop only by building towers, luxury resorts, hotels, and projects that look impressive in international presentations. A country develops when pensioners can reach the end of the month, when workers can live on their wages, and when young people do not see the airport as the only door to a future. If the concrete keeps rising while the population keeps leaving, then we must ask whether we are building a country or merely a market. I am not against Serbia. I am against politics without explanations. Albanians and Serbs have a difficult history, but people are not their governments. A Serbian citizen is not Aleksandar Vučić, just as an Albanian citizen is not Edi Rama. We can build peace without inheriting political hatred. So when there is talk of a Serbian consular presence in Shkodër, the question should not become hostility toward Serbian people. The question should be: Why Shkodër? What concrete need does it serve? Who benefits from it? What does Albania receive in return? Demanding answers is not nationalism. It is democracy. The same applies to the proposal for a sovereign Bektashi state. The problem is not faith. Faith belongs to the individual conscience and deserves respect. The problem begins when religion meets territory, sovereignty, institutions, and political power. Then citizens have the right to ask: Why? What problem does this solve for Albania? What precedent does it create? And what could it mean twenty or fifty years from now? History has taught us that borders can be drawn quickly. Their consequences can last for generations. Foreign investors are welcome. But Albania is not for sale. Investors should come to Albania to invest in Albania, not to treat it as cheap Mediterranean real estate. Every major project should come with transparency: Who benefits? Who owns the land? How many jobs are created? What does the state gain? What may citizens lose? Because sovereignty is not lost only through tanks. It can also be slowly eroded when citizens no longer know who is making decisions about their land, their resources, and their future. And Europe? For decades, the Balkans have been treated as the troublesome periphery of the continent. But if Europe demands the rule of law in the Balkans, then stability alone is not enough. Stability without democracy can simply become silence. Europe should demand functioning institutions, justice, transparency, and accountability — not merely governments capable of reassuring Brussels that the region will not create problems. Because the Balkans are not a carpet on which great powers can wipe the dirt from their geopolitical shoes. People live here. Then comes the Albanian emigrant. In Italy, Germany, France, Britain, and elsewhere, we are often reminded that we are foreigners. But when we speak about Albania, someone tells us: “You left. Why do you care?” So where is our place? Abroad, we are foreigners. At home, we are “the ones who left.” Yet we work. We pay taxes. We sweat. We support our parents, our brothers, our sisters, our families. We did not leave because we hated Albania. We left because we could not build our future there. And that is a wound no skyscraper can hide. A nation does not lose only when it loses land. It also loses when it loses its people. When the doctor leaves. When the teacher leaves. When the worker leaves. When the student leaves. When an entire family leaves and its children grow up knowing Albania only through summer holidays and the stories of their grandparents. Then the country has a problem far greater than a tourist project, a consulate, or another political announcement. It is losing its most valuable capital: its people. So my question to Albanian politics is simple: Make agreements. Bring investors. Build relations with Europe, America, Serbia, and the entire world. But tell us: What are you giving away? What are you receiving? Who benefits? Who signs? Who is held accountable? And what is left for the Albanian citizen? Because Albania is not the property of a government. It is not the property of an investor. It is not the property of a religion. It is not the property of Europe, America, or its neighbours. It belongs to its citizens, who have the right to know what is being done in their name. And those of us living abroad have not lost our right to speak. We did not abandon Albania. We were abandoned by the future Albania failed to provide for us. Now politics must answer the simplest question of all: How many towers must be built before we build an Albania that Albanians no longer want to leave? Because, in the end, a country is not measured by the height of its buildings. It is measured by the number of people who still want to live there. — Andriana Art Poetry