
TIRANA, Albania (AP) — A protest movement sweeping through Albania has captured worldwide attention, partly due to its connection with Donald Trump’s son-in-law Jared Kushner, and partly because of its unlikely symbol: the flamingo.
At the heart of the controversy is a two-part luxury development plan — one piece involving a resort on the uninhabited island of Sazan, and another calling for construction along the Narta Lagoon, a protected wildlife area where flamingos and other wetland birds are known to gather.
For weeks, demonstrators numbering in the thousands have filled the streets of Tirana each evening, waving flamingo cutouts in the air. Their movement has earned a fitting name: “The Flamingo Revolution.” Below are three of the people who make up that movement.
Fatma Paja, 28, is a Tirana resident who co-runs a creative studio alongside her two sisters. She belongs to a collective of artists responsible for crafting the flamingo cutouts that have become synonymous with the nightly demonstrations.
“I have long used art as a means to express the injustices and dissatisfaction associated with everyday civilian life in Albania,” Paja told the Associated Press on a Friday afternoon, as she painted a foam flamingo pink ahead of that night’s march.
Her group also sets up art activities for children at the protests, giving parents a way to participate while keeping their kids engaged. During the marches, Paja takes up a loudspeaker and leads the crowd in chants: “Albania is not for sale!” and “Don’t touch Narta!”
Environmentalists warn that the proposed development would permanently destroy a pristine and irreplaceable natural habitat. Protesters have voiced frustration over what they see as a lack of transparency and a history of similar projects failing to meet environmental standards.
“I am against a pro-elitist project that is blocking a fully protected area and destroying it,” Paja said. “It is a project that has no legal basis and has not been supported by any study on the damage it would cause to the environment and nature.”
Despite the tension, Paja said she feels hopeful, believing the protests have already made a difference. “This protest has motivated people to speak up and react,” she said, noting that the movement’s independence from political parties has helped build widespread trust and solidarity.
Though the protesters are not formally aligned with any party, they are nearly unanimous in calling for the resignation of Prime Minister Edi Rama.
Arben Kola, one of the earliest participants in the Flamingo Revolution, has spent more than ten years working as a tour guide, leading visitors through Albania’s historical and natural landmarks — including the area now targeted for development.
Tourism in Albania has surged in recent years, with travelers drawn to the country’s vast, largely untouched coastline. Among those who took notice were Kushner and Trump’s daughter, Ivanka Trump, who described on a podcast last month how they stumbled upon the development site while swimming from a friend’s boat.
For Kola, the project was one too many examples of government overreach. He joined the protest movement in its earliest days.
“Albania is facing a high level of corruption, with the privatization and giveaway of land, beaches, valleys and rivers,” said the 46-year-old during an interview while guiding a group through Tirana.
Albania’s anti-corruption agency has launched an investigation tied to the project. The government maintains the land is privately owned, though competing claims about how it was privatized have surfaced.
In a recent interview with the AP, Prime Minister Rama brushed off environmental objections as stemming from misinformation. He argued the development was transforming Albania into a destination “where the big capital wants to come and the big investors want to come.”
Kushner’s exact financial role in the project remains unclear, though Rama has confirmed he is involved. The prime minister also said a formal environmental impact study has not yet begun because the development plan is still being finalized by international architects and environmental specialists.
Kola, however, sees things differently. He says it looks like the project is already well underway, pointing to excavators and heavy machinery already clearing land inside the nature reserve. Today, he helps manage the crowds at demonstrations, speaking into a loudspeaker. He says he’s still amazed by how large the movement has grown.
“We didn’t believe the protest would reach this size,” Kola said. When people ask him whether the movement will keep going, his answer is simple: “It depends on the people.”
What sets this round of protests apart from most of Albania’s demonstrations over its three decades of democracy is the mix of ages in the crowd. Younger demonstrators have been joined by a growing number of retirees — including Bujare Ishmi, 70.
The retired engineer shows up to the protests nearly every night, wearing a sign that reads: “You have the power of crime, we have the power of truth.” When she arrives, fellow protesters greet her with chants of “Nona! Nona!” — an Albanian term of endearment for an older female family member — recognizing her as a kind of matriarch of the movement.
Ishmi said she has long hoped to witness a protest like this one, describing Albania’s political structure as a “half-hearted democracy.” Her husband is a former political prisoner from the era of Enver Hoxha’s four-decade rule, and she says neither of them opposes foreign investment in principle. Their primary concern is the absence of transparency.
Investment can bring progress, she said, “but the location must be known and the proper parameters must be maintained.”







