Made in Kosovo: when organic hits a ceiling

In 1998, Štrpce/Shtërpcë, in southern Kosovo*, saw the arrival of 900 displaced Kosovo Serbs and refugees from Croatia. Two decades on, the town is peaceful and well-integrated. And the area around it has become a virtual breadbasket. It boasts intensely flavored raspberries, fine goat cheese, a nascent pork industry, and delicacies like honey and fresh herbal teas.

But there’s a catch. The unemployment rate stands at a staggering 40 percent, with thousands of young graduates migrating to Switzerland, Germany or Austria in search of office jobs and better lives.

Trade is part of the problem. Kosovo exported €35 million in agricultural produce in 2014 but imported €584 million worth of food from large, subsidized economies. The recent pre-accession deal with the European Union could unlock Kosovo’s organic industry, but for the time being, the cost of doing business with the bloc is prohibitive. And local producers are feeling the pinch.

Overlooked by the snowcapped Sharr/Šar mountains, the area’s colors are intense. The smell of fresh herbs, drenched in the June sun, present everywhere. Seven years ago, only 10 families were growing raspberries here. That number has since grown to 400.

On a good year, Slobodan’s three million bees produce half a ton of honey that’s distributed to the surrounding towns and villages, allowing him to raise two sons comfortably.

Winters are getting harsher because of climate change and the bees have on average one less month for pollinating. Across Europe, bee populations and honey stocks have been declining up to 30 percent.

“Natural is the way to go. Anything else is unsustainable,” says Igor Jocinac as dozens of squealing babies begin to breastfeed in his 200-strong pig farm.

Igor provides weddings, butcher shops and the nearby ski resort with a healthy alternative to imported Brazilian meat.

On the other side of the mountain, neighboring Dragash/Dragaš offers stunning vistas, but suffers a similar dynamic. Kosovo Albanians and the Gorani – a muslim, Slavic-speaking ethnic minority – are also struggling to create jobs and keep their young people.

Accompanied by her son and his red minivan, Azemine Dozumeti embarks on a hard journey up the mountain to collect natural herbs. Her sons are all jobless. “I lose 10 kg every summer,” says Azemine who walks 2 to 3 hours every day in search of herbs and berries, adding that "there are wolves, bears and snakes out there”.

Displaced by the violence in 1999, Dragomir and Liljana Davidovic moved to Štrpce/Shtërpcë where their goat business is thriving, with sales skyrocketing during Ramadan.

“A kilo of cheese in Europe will cost you 30 euros. Here we sell it for 6. But because we have no certification, let alone an organic label, the market is stuck,” says Shamiran Qemaledini, holding a plateful of his best sheep cheese.

Zvonimir and Zorica Stojanovic pick and dry herbs to make infusions. “When we first set up this giant dryer in our backyard, people started looking at us funny. They thought it was a train carriage”, he says while holding the metal door.

“There is no law that regulates the market. So people just cut the bushes and sell herbs below market price to the towns around,” says Zvonimir who harvests elderflowers and wild berries.

The United Nations Development Programme and Austrian Development Agency are supporting hundreds of farmers in Southern Kosovo.

*References to Kosovo shall be understood to be in the context of Security Council Resolution 1244 (1999)