The waiter placed my coffee in front of me and asked with a grin, “where are you from, miss?” I replied that I am from the UK but have lived in Albania for five years.
Throwing his hands up in the air, he exclaimed, “oh you English come here, and all us Albanians want to go there!”
Living with his parents on a salary of 30,000 ALL (£221), he can barely cover the essentials, particularly as the cost of some food has risen by 40%. But this is not the only reason, the young man explains.
“There are no opportunities here. I just don’t see a future here. I can’t wait to go.”
Since the start of the summer, news of Albanians crossing the English Channel by the 1000s has occupied many headlines, sparking a big debate about why people from a so-called safe country are risking their lives in dinghies to seek asylum in the UK.
Between January and June 2022, 2,156 Albanians made the perilous journey, compared to just 23 during the same period the year before. But during July and August, this number surpassed 6,000, with the authorities reporting that six out of ten migrants coming via boat were Albanian. All the rest are Afghans, Iraqis, and Iranians- all from countries with conflicts and complex social and political dynamics.
Of the Albanians who filed for asylum in the first half of the year, 53% were approved, while those who came in the summer await decisions.
Mainstream British media will have you believe they are all criminals, coming here to take our jobs, sell drugs to our children, and mug our grandmas. Others harp on how they just want to abuse the system and that the government is too soft.
The reality is that Albanians have been leaving their country in waves for centuries due to occupation, war, dictatorships, and civil conflicts. Still, in 2022, it is a democracy, albeit flawed, that has just opened membership negotiations in the EU.
A perfect storm
In simple terms, the latest wave is driven by a perfect storm of factors, including the generational desire to emigrate, poverty and the economic crisis, generational trauma, a lack of national identity, problems with crime and politics, and the business acumen of traffickers that levy social media to draw in clients.
Combine this with certain media that are always looking for their latest immigration scapegoat (remember the rhetoric on the Poles, Romanians, and Bulgarians?), and this is where we are.
Argjend, 50 and a teacher, said, “ I don’t want to leave. but here l find it difficult to have a simple life, with honest people and honest public services. The word ” dignity” doesn’t mean anything in our society.”
He describes despair as people get poorer and the healthcare and education systems continue to struggle, but he has high hopes for life in the UK.
“About the UK, l don’t know many things, but l believe that l could live a better life for myself and my children.”
As for why people are leaving now, he says the young are willing to risk their lives for the prospect of a better job and enough money to live a dignified life.
“Some of them want to disappear from this small place with so many problems,” he says with a sigh.
Bilbil, 22, also wants to leave because of economic reasons. Having studied for three years to be a mechanic, he works 363 days a year for 29,000 ALL (£214) a month with no contract.
“What can I do with that money? I am supporting my mum with cardiac problems. I have to take care of her medicines,” he said.
He wants to go to the UK because he has friends already there with others ready to go.
“I am ready and able to work as hard as I can to help my family,” he said.
Bajram is 25 from Kukes, one of the hotspots for emigration to the UK. He has a government job, but like the others, he cannot make ends meet and has made up his mind to leave.
“Many boys from Kukës have fled to England and say it is a better life there. Here in Kukes, there is no future for young people and no opportunity to help parents. I’ve heard that there’s better pay and living in England,” he says with certainty.
I.L, who didn’t want to give his full name, works for 18,000 ALL a month (£133) and “since no work is valued here, salaries are insufficient, and the cost of living is excessive”, he wants to leave.
He plans to go to the UK in hope of a better life and is preparing to stump up “£5k for boat or less to go in a truck.”
But making money to support the family can mean working for organised crime.
Ardit travelled with traffickers and was promptly set to work in London’s seedy underbelly.
“I am working here, you know, as a gardener, but not the usual kind,” he tells me over the phone. Fed up with low salaries in Tirana, he plans to stay in the UK for a couple of years, save up money, and then go back to Albania
“I will make more money here in two years than I could in my life in Albania. It is not the life I planned, but I have my family, my parents, to help.
But it is not just purely economic reasons why people are fleeing. Hundreds of asylum requests are granted in the UK and EU every year, something almost unheard of for a country not at war.
Very valid asylum applications
Anita’s (not her real name) husband fled to the UK after being targeted by a local gang. She stayed behind, facing threats and rape as a way for the gang to intimidate her husband.
“They didn’t go to prison because they corrupted the police and the judges and were left free to harm to all of us,” she said, referring to her teenage daughters, who the gang threatened to traffick into the European sex trade.
“You are living in Albania, and you see with your own eyes the Albanian reality, the organised crime and blood feuds, domestic violence, especially the honour killings of girls and women, their prostitution and trafficking, corruption, the lack of protection from the state police,” she said via message.
As for the progress of her asylum claim, she fears the current situation will count against her. “We are living in limbo due to this media propaganda and discrimination against Albanians in the UK.”
An Albania expert witness for the British court system confirmed that stories like Anita’s are quite common, having dealt with hundreds over the years. She also fears the current rhetoric will put these very valid cases at risk.
“Bad press about Albanians is having a very bad effect on Albanian asylum seekers’ reception in the UK but there are many valid reasons for Albanians to seek asylum,” she explained.
But the reasons behind Albanian migration go even deeper still, as Neritan Sejamini, a journalist and political analyst in Tirana, tells me.
“It is a complex situation that cannot be attributed only to economic factors. Unfortunately, there haven’t been any research and studies into the issue, but I would think that sociological and psychological factors are also a major factor,” he said.
His view is shared by publisher Alfred Rakipi who believes that “behind the economic issues, it’s about governance and the future. There is no trust from the people, they don’t feel they can build a future here.”
“It is a weak state. We as a society need to reflect, the politicians need to reflect,” he explains.
Intergenerational trauma
Albania was ruled for almost 50 years by a brutal communist dictator called Enver Hoxha. Shut off from the world, he oversaw the murder, persecution and mass imprisonment of thousands of people. More than 30 years since the transition to democracy, school children have learned little about this era, and more than 6000 people are still missing.
Lori Amy is a Professor in the Department of Writing and Linguistics at Georgia Southern University who lives in Albania and is researching links between the country’s contemporary issues and its past traumas.
Amy believes these societal traumas have a part to play in 2022.
“An entire history of trauma from the Ottomans, the First Balkan Wars, Communism, civil war in 97, mass emigration in waves, purges…there has been no reconciliation ever. Reconciliation is needed with the entire history of trauma, else we will keep repeating cycles we have seen occur throughout the 20th century.”
She explains that trauma is passed through generations, and with no reconciliation, and a lack of historical awareness, young people have little hope.
“We have a very proud people, a people who should be proud, and ancient history and their country gives them nothing to be proud of. What is there for them here?” she asks.
A better life for sale
There are many ways that Albanians reach the sandy west coast of the UK. Browsing Albanian TikTok, Facebook, and Instagram, you can see posts full of promises of jobs and visas. Videos of Big Ben and the Union Jack, interspersed with bundles of cash and stories featuring stamped passports, all promise a better life for Albanian youth.
One advert claims that all documents, payments, and processes are entirely legal and invites applicants to SMS a British number to get a callback.
“Work conditions; regular documents, bank payment, English speaking, excellent salary,” a post on Facebook claims.
Another advert on a classifieds site targets those in the north where emigration is at an all-time high. It claims to offer work visas to those with family already in the UK, who know English and computers.
“The payment is very satisfactory knowing the standards of living in England, as well as the possibility of extending the contract”, it continues, inviting applicants to contact a rather suspicious email address.
Paying between £5,000 and £15,000, desperate Albanians can travel with vans through Europe, or meet their traffickers in France, and then take the last remaining stretch, crammed into a small boat or lorry.
Once there, some are told they have outstanding debts and must work to pay them off. This ‘work’ can include prostitution, working on cannabis farms, or cleaning rooms in swanky London hotels. Others head to family and friends and work in kitchens or as bouncers in the capital’s clubs.
The British media has been quick to paint Albanians as criminals who, to quote ex-Home Secretary Priti Patel, are leaving “prosperous” country to take advantage of the UK’s wealth and hospitality. But the reality is very far from that.
A combination of economic crisis and desperate people, exacerbated by panic, is being leveraged by smugglers who want to profit from already existing migration patterns.
As the cost of living tightens its grip, Albanians who have always wanted to leave feel a sense of urgency and respond to adverts on social media. This encourages traffickers to step up their marketing game, resulting in more customers, who also tell their friends, creating a snowball effect where both organised crime, and desperate Albanians feed each other.
For westerners living there and intrepid holidaymakers, Albania is a beautiful and safe country with some of the lowest crime rates on the continent. But for the almost 50% hovering around the poverty line, issues like corruption, inflation, and struggling public services means many are forced to take what they believe is a life or death decision.
