Albanian students have been in the streets for three days, setting fire to the prime minister's office, ministry buildings, and bank branches in Tirana. The proximate trigger is the cost of education and dismal post-graduation employment prospects, but the combustion material accumulated over years: corruption allegations against senior officials, a luxury resort deal involving Jared Kushner on the unspoilt southern coast, and a government that responded to three months of peaceful protests with "discrediting campaigns rather than genuine dialogue," according to Afrim Krasniqi of Tirana's Institute for Political Studies. Prime Minister Edi Rama, in power since 2013 and now serving a fourth term after winning elections last May, dismissed resignation calls by invoking democratic process: "Governments change through democratic elections. Last year, we had elections, not a revolution." Dozens of police and protesters have been injured, with security forces deploying water cannon and tear gas. Protests have spread from Tirana to universities in Elbasan and Shkoder. The structural picture matters more than the street clashes. Albania remains well below the EU average in purchasing power, wages, productivity, and public-service quality. Despite being one of the Western Balkans' most advanced EU accession candidates after Montenegro, citizens see little tangible improvement from the integration process. The gap between optimistic political rhetoric and daily reality is where the anger lives. This is not Albania's first student eruption. The December 2018 protests forced Rama to sack eight ministers and announce a "Pact for the University." But as the article notes plainly, some of those demands remained unmet — the classic cycle of elite concession followed by quiet retrenchment. Sokol Lleshi, a lecturer at the University of New York Tirana, warns that student mobilisation alone is unlikely to produce systemic change; "elite defection from the current ruling political elite" would be needed to channel dissatisfaction into institutional reform. The Kushner resort project crystallises the extraction dynamic. Albania's unspoilt coastline — a public asset — being developed by politically connected international capital, while students cannot afford textbooks or find jobs after graduation. The value flows outward and upward; the costs stay local. Banks burning is not random — it is symbolic targeting of the institutions students associate with extraction. Albania's deeper problem is the emigration pressure valve. Young people who could form a sustained reform movement instead leave. The country's brain drain is both a symptom of the dysfunction and the mechanism that sustains it — reducing the domestic constituency for change while creating remittance dependency that props up the status quo. The European context adds a layer: French secondary students are blockading schools over the same structural complaints — overcrowded classrooms, deteriorating buildings, too few teachers. Albania's protests are more volatile because its institutional buffer is thinner, its inequality sharper, and its political elite more entrenched. Whether this round of unrest produces more than a reshuffled cabinet depends entirely on whether opposition parties or defecting elites can translate street energy into institutional leverage. History suggests the odds are poor.