This op-ed was written for the yearly supplement produced by the Kosovar Gender Studies Center, “Koha për Gratë” (Time for Women) to mark International Women’s Day, March 8th.
Kosovo is experiencing a significant increase in tourism. Mother Teresa Boulevard is filled with visitors, especially during the summer; Prizren is bustling during the summer; the guesthouses in the national parks are operating at full capacity, and tourism is being promoted as one of the most promising sectors of the economy. “Virgin” mountains, unprecedented traditional hospitality, a history of resistance, and a young state that has recovered itself quickly after the war and “exports” human resources, especially young men and women who excel in the field of information technology – this is the narrative being presented to the world.
But behind this apparent optimism lies an unpleasant but essential question: who is really benefiting from tourism in Kosovo?
The answer is simple and disturbing: not the women. For women in Kosovo, tourism offers opportunities, but at the same time, it highlights some of the most enduring inequalities in our society.
Women are the invisible backbone of tourism in Kosovo. They cook, clean, host visitors, maintain guesthouses, and keep local tourism alive, especially in rural areas. However, they are rarely seen as owners, managers, or equal professionals. According to tourism strategy documents, only about 5 percent of managerial positions are held by women, while their work often remains invisible, unrecorded, and undervalued. This gap is not accidental. It reflects deep-rooted structural barriers that women face throughout the Kosovo labor market, including limited access to property, finance, professional networks, and decision-making spaces.
In rural areas, many women work in family guesthouses without being registered as business owners. This informality brings short-term income but offers no security: no contracts, no pensions, and no social protection. Tourism, instead of being a path to economic independence, risks becoming a continuation of unpaid domestic work, only displaced into the market.
Inequality becomes even more evident in tourist guiding, a profession that remains predominantly male. Women entering this field, especially in mountain/adventure tourism, but also in cultural tourism, face prejudice, skepticism, and a lack of legal protection. However, a small but growing number of certified women are breaking down these barriers and challenging entrenched ideas about who guides, who narrates, and who “belongs” to public space and nature.
But these women also operate in an unregulated market.
This is where GuideKS – Kosovo Tourist Guides Association – enters the picture, representing certified local guides and advocating for professionalism and ethical standards. However, in the absence of a functional legal framework, GuideKS also remains with its hands tied. Today, foreign guides operate freely in Kosovo, without local certification, licensing, and supervision. This harms local guides, and especially women, who are already underrepresented and less connected to international networks.
Beyond the economic aspect, a deeper issue arises: who tells Kosovo’s story? When foreign guides dominate the market, narrative sovereignty is lost, and women’s voices are pushed further into the background. GuideKS has consistently called for legal reforms, but progress has been slow. Tourism is growing, but institutional regulation lags.
The lack of institutional regulation compounds the problem. Kosovo still lacks an enforceable law on tourist guiding that would mandate certification, licensing, and supervision for all guides. Meanwhile, the Tourism Strategy 2024–2030, while ambitious in its promotion, fails to address key gaps: it does not foresee the creation of a national tourism agency nor a functional tourist office in Pristina.
It is paradoxical that the capital, as the main entry point for tourists, does not offer even a basic institutional space where visitors can be informed, and local professionals can be coordinated. Without institutions, tourism remains unorganized, while women face a state that does not guarantee equal conditions for development.
In this context, the creation of the Ministry of Culture and Tourism constitutes an important moment. For the first time, tourism is being treated as an important aspect, not just a department within a ministry with few human resources. This Ministry should work to: license tourist guides, including clear standards for certification, licensing and supervision; ban the operation of foreign guides in Kosovo, in line with the practices of other countries – even those in the region; promote small businesses led by women, through micro-credit schemes, mentoring and access to finance; integrate gender equality into the national tourism strategy, allocating budgets for training, certifications and infrastructure that encourages the active participation of women in the sector; and develop a national information platform for tourists that includes indigenous stories presented by local professionals, especially women, that preserves Kosovo’s narrative sovereignty.
Tourism has real potential for women’s economic empowerment. But without formalization, without rules, and without political will, this potential remains just rhetoric.
In the end, tourism is not just about economics. It is about narrative and identity. If women remain invisible and unprotected, then we are only telling half of our story. An industry that speaks about Kosovo, but not for and by women, is an industry built on exclusion.
Article in Albanian is below
