On June 5, 2021, I was on the road from Peja to Prishtina and I thought to myself that I had failed. I had not succeeded in persuading my best friend to stay in Kosovo. 

Whenever I discussed my love for Kosovo all I got was negativity from him. He would throw in my face all the people who, according to him, got rich from nepotism or corruption. He said that there were no positive models to follow, that there was no reason to keep making sacrifices for this country.

“Ardit, you cannot convince me to stay in Kosovo, let alone others,” he said to me.

It hurt my soul to see him go off in search of a better life and leave behind his family, friends and the 25 years he had spent here.

When I think about the obligation I feel to stay in Kosovo, I remember my two classmates. Every time the war was mentioned, they cried and got upset because the war had taken their father. They had grown up without knowing him, without kissing him, without playing with him and without ever being spoiled by him.

I always remember how my grandmother says goodbye to each of her six children who live in diaspora. Every time they leave I see pain in her eyes. Many experience this type of pain, the pain of separation from loved ones who don’t know if everyone will still be alive next time they return.

These memories make me think of the people who struggled so that I and my classmates could go to school. It makes me think of the people who struggled so that today I have a place to live. They struggled for the old dream of building this country — a dream that I want to continue to pursue by staying here.

‘You’ve returned from Germany, this is Kosovo’

I was born in Germany in 1996. After the war ended in 1999, my father decided that we should return to Kosovo and that’s what happened. We came back and like many, after the war, we faced challenges and poverty. Some laughed at us and said “You’ve returned from Germany, this is Kosovo.”

Despite this, I feel gratitude for my father for making this choice, especially now that he is no longer alive. This is the place where I was meant to grow up, be educated and work.

This is the country I want to make better — a country where freedoms and rights are respected, where everyone’s dignity matters and everyone is respected for who they are and what they do.

And I know it’s a lot of work. If things were all good, my friend would not leave. If only there was something I could say to him to convince him to stay. Or that I could convince my other friend, who told me a few months ago that he would return if Kosovo could provide him with a decent salary.

This is my mission, to help create a space where there are jobs and where people who left find reasons to return and join the effort to improve Kosovo.

I want to work for a country where young people are employed, not through nepotism, but due to their knowledge. I want a country where young people are valued for their potential and aren’t just used for election campaigns and then discarded. I want to work in a country where employees are treated with dignity and their work is respected.

I stay here to build a country that gives us reason to stay.

Feature image: Atdhe Mulla via MidJourney

This blog was published with the financial support of the European Union as part of the project “Diversifying voices in journalism.” Its contents are the sole responsibility of Kosovo 2.0 and do not necessarily reflect the views of the European Union.

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