How Albania’s Political Elite Plundered €370 Million
On a cold December morning in 2024, as Tirana prepared for New Year celebrations, Albania’s political elite gathered to inaugurate their most ambitious project yet: a 28.7-kilometer ring road that had consumed €370 million in public funds. The ribbon-cutting marked not just the completion of infrastructure, but the culmination of a decade-long scheme that would become the most lucrative public theft in the country’s post-communist history.
The project they celebrated that day, Unaza e Madhe—The Grand Ring Road—cost Albanian taxpayers €15 million per kilometer. Identical roads across the Balkans average one-third that price. The difference, more than €10 million per kilometer, vanished into a labyrinth of shell companies, fraudulent contracts, and offshore accounts, leaving behind a trail of displaced families and substandard construction that would take investigators years to unravel.
Through thousands of pages of court documents, tender records, and financial transfers, a pattern emerges: not of mere mismanagement or inefficiency, but of an intricately choreographed plot to transform public infrastructure into private wealth.
The scheme’s sophistication became clear in 2018 when investigators discovered its most brazen component: an €18 million contract awarded to “DH Albania,” a company that existed only on paper. The ghost company, operating with falsified registration documents, had secured public funds with an ease that suggested not oversight failure, but institutional complicity.
“This represents systemic plunder, not mere inefficiency,” says one urban planner, who has spent years documenting how the project’s costs defied every regional benchmark. His analysis reveals a project where each inflated contract, each manipulated tender, served a single purpose: the systematic transfer of public money into private hands.
The project’s seven lots were carved up through what auditors would later identify as “tailored criteria”—specifications so narrow they effectively predetermined the winners. A small circle of companies, many sharing directors and shareholders, secured contract after contract despite histories of delays and cost overruns. Basic materials were billed at rates up to 200% above market prices, with the difference flowing through a carefully constructed network of fraudulent invoices and offshore accounts.
Early 2024 brought the scheme’s most dramatic exposure. Anti-corruption prosecutors arrested Ervis Berberi, head of the Albanian Road Authority (ARRSH), along with two associates. Court documents revealed how Berberi had orchestrated a sophisticated system of tender manipulation, directing contracts to companies that existed primarily on paper while inflating invoices beyond any reasonable market rate.
Prime Minister Edi Rama’s response to mounting evidence proved telling. When confronted with the DH Albania fraud in 2018, he dismissed criticism as “politically motivated.” Even after Berberi’s arrest, Rama continued defending what had become an elaborate mechanism for siphoning public funds.
Meanwhile, Tirana Mayor Erion Veliaj’s office played its part. Documents show his administration repeatedly fast-tracked permits for favored contractors, bypassing standard review procedures. When leaked emails suggested his office had prior knowledge of winning bidders, Veliaj denied wrongdoing, though whistleblower accounts and internal communications indicated otherwise.
In Tirana’s Astir neighborhood, the human cost of this sophisticated theft scheme became clear. Over 650 families were displaced, their properties valued at 2013 prices despite the project’s later inception. While long-time residents received dated valuations for their seized properties, well-connected developers who acquired adjacent lands just before the project’s announcement received current market rates—another mechanism for channeling public funds to private interests.
The protests that erupted in 2018 spoke to more than displaced families; they revealed a community witnessing their homes being sacrificed not for public benefit but for private enrichment.
Today, traffic still crawls through much of Tirana. The ring road, built with substandard materials to maximize profit margins, has, in some areas, worsened the congestion it was meant to solve. Engineers point to compromised specifications and inferior construction—each corner cut representing more public money diverted to private accounts.
The scale of this theft staggers: €370 million would pay the annual salaries of 77,000 teachers, build 50 new schools, or construct 15 modern hospitals. Instead, these public funds vanished into private accounts through fraudulent contracts and shell companies.
Beyond its domestic impact, the Unaza e Madhe scandal threatens Albania’s European aspirations. EU progress reports have consistently highlighted public procurement as a critical area requiring reform. “Projects like this undermine Albania’s credibility,” an EU official stated, the warning carrying particular weight as Albania seeks to demonstrate its readiness for membership.
As SPAK’s investigation continues, new evidence emerges daily of how deeply this corruption penetrated Albania’s institutions. The road stands complete, but its legacy—as one of the most sophisticated thefts of public resources in recent Albanian history—will influence the country’s path for years to come.
In the Astir neighborhood, weekly gatherings of displaced residents continue. Their stories—of homes undervalued and lives disrupted—testify to a project where public benefit was never more than a thin disguise for private plunder.
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