Albanians have often been betrayed by their governments. Not always with big lies. Often with big dreams. In 1997, the dream was to get rich quick without work. The state did not stop the fraud. It did not protect the people. Albanians paid the bill. With blood. With chaos. With lost years.

Today another dream is being sold. The dream of quick prosperity through concrete. A tower instead of a hill. Destruction of the coast. Erosion of mountains and rivers. Every piece of nature that disappears is called an "investment". Every space that remains vacant is called a lost opportunity.

But development is not measured by what we build. It is measured by what we have left. Albania is building a lot. But it is losing even more. Housing prices have become unaffordable for Albanians.

Property prices rise and quality of life decreases. Albania attracts capital and drives away citizens. It builds hotels for tourists and makes the country unaffordable for Albanians.

The paradox becomes even greater when we look at the state of the environment. The irony is that Albania has declared tourism the engine of development, while it ranks last in Europe for the quality of beach waters. This is an indicator of the lack of a development strategy. Because a tourist economy cannot be built by destroying the natural wealth on which it relies.

It is not enough to build seaside resorts if you do not protect the sea. It is not enough to count tourists if you lose the wealth they bring. Development does not begin with concrete. It begins with preserving nature. Therefore, the question is not: what are we building? The question is: who are we building it for? Here lies the historical thread that connects the Albania of 1997 with the Albania of 2026.

Vlora.

In 1997, a fragile economy, weak institutions, and pyramid schemes drove Albania to the brink. Today, in the same city, a degraded government, a flawed development model, risks eroding another asset: nature and the future.

Yesterday, the wealth that Albanians had in their hands was at risk. Today, the wealth that Albanians have under their feet is at risk. In both cases, something is missing: a state that thinks beyond today.

History teaches us that false dreams always have a real cost. In 1997, Albanians lost money believing in a dream with their eyes wide open. Today we risk losing something that can no longer be bought: the place where we live.

For months, hundreds of thousands of Albanians have been protesting. They no longer believe the government's propaganda. They no longer believe the next promises.

Albanians for the first time are trusting their voice. Perhaps this is the biggest change. This protest is not just about what is being built. It is about what we are losing.

Albania can rebuild the economy. It can change the government. It can correct the laws. But the destruction of nature, the loss of territory, and the concretization of the future cannot be reversed.

Albania doesn't just need development. It needs a development model that doesn't sacrifice the future for the benefit of the present.

In 1997, the idea of ​​getting rich quick brought Albania to its knees. In 2026, getting rich quick through indiscriminate concreting is not just endangering the landscape. It is endangering Albania's future.

History does not remember how many towers we built. It remembers what kind of Albania we left to the generations that will come after us. Then it will be seen whether we understood the difference between development and destruction, or whether we only saw it.