In Tirana, Durrës, Shkodra and everywhere else, time seems to have frozen in a permanent temporality. Just like before, there is noise, traffic, information scum, conspiracy inflation, little hope, many statuses, flags in bios, bile in comments, slogans, events, forums, panels, patriotic hashtags and “proudforAlbania!” in digital version. But work, those jobs with which Albania comes to light, are still not visible enough.
People sit in the shadows, no longer under the eaves, but in cafes, television studios, comments, stories and online debates, waiting with open mouths no longer for Europe, but for Brussels, Washington, a grant, a tender, a pilot project, or some “development fund” or “landing operation”. And yet, nothing comes, except digital flies, rumors, clickbait and promises that are recycled more than garbage.
Our poor patriots? They are bursting with talk about the homeland, while they work hard for their own pockets. Their patriotism has become elastic like the elastic of panties, shrinking and expanding according to the budget, elections and the number of "likes". They never have time for Albania, but to spoil Albania they don't know what a break is.
The old bazaar of Shkodra has been moved to television panels, where "local and global issues" are raised and resolved, between two detergent advertisements.
And oh, politics. More politics is produced here than electricity. Without ever reading a serious line, every “expert”, with his finger still smeared with kebab grease, proclaims himself a global strategist. Without even knowing where the border of his own garden falls, he moves the borders of NATO on the cracked screen of his iPhone. They divide the world into spheres of influence like dividing watermelons in Lushnje, with a slash of the knife of ignorance, explaining global doctrines with status sentences.
When someone who has convinced themselves that they are important appears on the screen, a tsunami arrives. National and international security, geopolitics, philosophy, astronomy, agriculture and economics are poured in buckets on the people and they are left speechless. Enemies and allies are slaughtered and reconciled within two hours of the show. But when it comes to a concrete decision, a painful reform, or a real responsibility, everything ends with the magic phrase: “Let's not personalize things”. Because here no one moves from their place, everyone expects the world to revolve around their coffee.
Today, in this Albania of 2026, the truth is not suppressed, it has simply been suffocated. It has been so deeply immersed in lies, deception and mediocre performances that no one recognizes it anymore, even if they confront it. We don't lack news, we lack truth. We don't lack gossip, we lack shame.
And so, Albania moves forward, in "neutral" gear, burning fuel in vain and not moving a single millimeter from the old mud.
