Respect for our ancestors, remembrance of them,
appreciation of who they were and of what they left behind is a value found, in
different forms, almost everywhere among human societies. Perhaps one of the
origins of human social life itself lies here: from the family to the clan,
from the village to the city and eventually to nations, so much of what we have
built rests upon the connection between generations, upon memory, and upon the
need not to lose those who came before us.
But this connection does not move only from
descendants toward ancestors. It also extends forward, beyond us. Children,
grandchildren and the generations that follow are our treasures. We love them,
and they love us, with a love that is sometimes greater than the words we know
how to say. Perhaps this is precisely why we should express our love and
appreciation for them, and for one another, whenever we have the opportunity.
Because one day, what we have given them becomes part of their memory of us.
This came to my mind recently when I had the
opportunity to see another dimension of Ahmet Demaj: the way he values his
family, his children, grandchildren and the way they, beyond the bonds of
family, value and love him.
I was touched by this beautiful circle of love and
appreciation between generations. Because beyond what a person does in public
life, in his profession, in society or for his country, there is another,
deeper world — the world in which we live through the relationships we have
built and through the memory we leave in the people who are ours.
And this made me see Ahmet once again beyond what I
had known about him.
I have known Ahmet Demaj for more than 30 years.
The first coffee I had with Ahmet was at his home
in Vëlcë, prepared by his wife, the unforgettable teacher Mirjani. It was 1999.
I had gone there with my nephew to ask for his opinion and support for Fatos
Nano, then Chairman of the Socialist Party, in connection with the developments
taking place within the party.
Many years have passed since then. Over those
years, I came to know the talented teacher, colleague and political
collaborator, patriotic activist, publicist and serious, thoughtful and
courageous intellectual. These were the impressions formed during a long
acquaintance, through different periods and circumstances.
But recently, another coffee gave me the
opportunity to see some other dimensions of Ahmet. It seems remarkable how long
one can know a person and still discover dimensions of them that one had never
seen before.
After I made an appreciative comment about his work
at the head of the Labëria Association, Vlora Branch, I also made a suggestion
regarding what I believed the association should do to bring the Labëria Club
to life as its successor. This was long before the protests in Vlora over this
issue began.
With the courtesy that characterizes him, Ahmet
told me that efforts had not been lacking and invited me for a coffee, so that
we could discuss the matter and bring our contributions together. The coffee
was postponed for a while for family reasons, but eventually we had it.
That conversation gave me the opportunity to learn
more about the work of the Association, but also about a part of Ahmet’s
personal activity of which, strangely enough, I knew far less than I should
have, considering how rich his overall contribution had been.
I learned more about his work beyond journalism,
which I had known through his writings published over the years in the press. I
learned about his contribution and expertise in rural development and
microfinance. In other words, beyond the Ahmet I had known for years, other
dimensions of his personality and work were beginning to unfold before me.
At that meeting, he gave me his latest book, I
Hear Your Voice. And this is where another acquaintance with Ahmet began.
With his particular modesty, as a man who speaks more
about others and promotes people, his homeland and Labëria than himself, Ahmet
had allowed very little to be known about what he himself had done over the
years. But what Ahmet does not tell in conversation, the book reveals.
I began reading it last night and, to put it
simply, the reading swept me away. I did not put it down until I had finished
it. Before me rose the figure of a man who had done so much, written so much,
studied and researched so many fields and dimensions of life, always with a clear
inclination to discover values, bring them into the light, elevate them and
promote them.
But what particularly attracted me was the way
Ahmet chose to tell his own story. He does not place himself at the centre of
the book. Instead, he entrusts that task to the voices of colleagues,
collaborators, friends, students, contemporaries, fellow villagers and ordinary
people who have shared a part of their lives with him.
This is a particular challenge. Because choosing to
tell your story through the words of others requires a rare kind of wealth: the
wealth of relationships built on honesty and trust. And Ahmet seems to meet
that challenge precisely through that wealth.
Throughout the pages of the book, one encounters
the wisdom and depth of his thinking, both in what he has written himself and
in what others have brought through their memories and testimonies. One
encounters sincerity and a disarming simplicity, among the most distinctive
qualities of this personality.
The circle of people appearing in the book is
impressive as well. They come from very different worlds: academics and
professionals, but also ordinary citizens, students, contemporaries and fellow
villagers. Each brings a piece of Ahmet, but also a piece of the time and place
in which he lived and worked.
And so, without placing himself at the centre,
Ahmet succeeds in speaking about himself.
The book also taught me that his concerns and
commitment to the values of his homeland have not been limited to historical
sites. They have also extended to issues such as the Naval Academy, the Higher
Aviation School and others, revealing a much broader interest in memory,
knowledge and the human and institutional wealth of the country.
Perhaps this is why, when I closed the book, I had
the feeling that I had just met another Ahmet. Or, more precisely, an Ahmet
who, with his simplicity, had always been there, but whom I had not yet known
in the full dimension of his work and activity.
But I Hear Your Voice, beyond introducing us
to its author, also conveys a series of messages that go beyond the person
himself: messages about responsibility toward one's homeland, the value of
memory, the need to preserve and promote what deserves not to be forgotten and,
above all, the importance of civic engagement.
Because Ahmet does not simply remember, observe or
speak. He searches, studies, researches, writes, gathers testimonies, meets
people and tries to pass on to others what he has discovered and what he
believes has value. And here, for me, lies one of his most beautiful messages:
to lead by example.
We are looking at a man in his eighties who
continues to devote so much positive energy to people, to his homeland, to
memory and to the values he believes should be preserved and promoted. He
studies, researches, writes, listens, gathers, remembers and passes things on.
And he does all this quietly, without placing himself at the centre of
attention.
It is a beautiful reminder that civic engagement
has no retirement age. As long as you have something to give, you also have a
reason to search, to learn, to contribute and to give others something of what
you have gathered throughout your life.
Perhaps this is also one of the lessons I took from
the book: that the value of a life is measured not only by what you have done
for yourself, but also by what you have discovered, preserved and left behind
for others.
And Ahmet's four books do honour to any library,
including my own, as an added value. Not only as books by an old friend, but as
evidence of a body of work, thought and commitment that deserves to be read,
preserved and passed on.
Thank you, Ahmet Demaj, for the book, for this new
encounter, and above all, for the example of a man who continues to believe
that there is always something more to do, something more to say and something
more to give to others.
Luiza Hoxhaj
18 September 2026
