Ervin Koçi
In a corner of his greenhouse, among glass jars filled with corn, bean, tomato and melon seeds, Xhavit Gjoshi keeps a treasure that cannot be measured in money. Each jar holds a family story inside. Some seeds have been passed down from grandfather to father and then to him, surviving for decades thanks to a simple ritual: selecting the best plants, drying the seed and storing it until next spring.
For many years, this was the normal cycle of Albanian agriculture, but today it has become the exception. On Albanian farms, fewer and fewer farmers plant the seeds they have inherited. Instead, imported hybrid seeds and ready-made seedlings are used, which promise higher yields, faster ripening, and more uniform fruit for the market. Within a few decades, a large part of traditional Albanian varieties has disappeared from everyday use.
Gjoshi has experienced this change in his land. When he decided to return to the seeds he had saved for years, the results were not what he expected. “At first it was a futile effort,” he recalls. “The seeds sprouted, but the plants did not produce. It took several seasons until the soil adjusted again and I could find the taste of tomatoes, melons, and watermelons that I remembered from childhood.”
For him, the problem is not just about the seed. He believes that along with the way agriculture is practiced, the soil has also changed. “The use of ready-made seedlings for years has had consequences. In the past, we did not need so many chemical fertilizers and pesticides. Today, they have become an integral part of production,” he says.
Gjoshi’s story is not an isolated case. It reflects a profound transformation that has engulfed Albanian agriculture since the early 1990s. After the fall of the communist system and the opening of the market, Albania rapidly integrated into the global economy. Along with new technologies came companies that marketed modern seeds and seedlings. For farmers, they represented a revolution: there was no longer any need to save seeds from one season to the next, prepare seedlings, or wait for the natural rhythms of the seasons. Everything could be purchased ready-made.
In the short term, this model worked, production increased, fruits became more uniform and the market demanded exactly that. But as production increased, agricultural biodiversity began to shrink silently. Traditional varieties, which had adapted for centuries to the Albanian climate and soil, were gradually replaced by a limited number of modern cultivars. Along with them, part of the country's genetic heritage began to fade.
The paradox is that Albania has not yet lost these seeds. They exist, but no longer where they once made sense. They are kept deep-frozen, in laboratories.
In the metal shelves of the National Germplasm Bank near the Agricultural University of Tirana, thousands of seed samples are stored at temperatures as low as minus 20 degrees Celsius. Others are located thousands of kilometers away from Albania, in the Svalbard Global Seed Vault, the world's largest seed bank, built in the Arctic to protect biodiversity from wars, natural disasters or climate change.
This contrast raises a simple but fundamental question: What value does a seed stored in the freezer have if it is never planted in the ground again?
For scientists, the answer is not just about nostalgia for the flavors of the past. It has to do with something much bigger: the ability of Albanian agriculture to cope with a rapidly changing climate, new crop diseases, and a global market that makes the country increasingly dependent on imported planting material.
Seeds that fade in silence
Globally, scientists call it genetic erosion. For Albanian farmers, it has no scientific name. It is noticeable when tomatoes no longer have the flavor they once had, when old corn is no longer found in the village, or when seeds that were once passed down from one generation to the next are replaced by a new package purchased every spring.
According to the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations (FAO), about 75 percent of the genetic diversity of agricultural crops has been lost over the past century, and today most of the world's food is produced from a very limited number of crops. This homogenization makes the food system more vulnerable to climate change, diseases and new pests.
Albania is no exception. Although the country is considered one of the richest regions in Europe in terms of biodiversity, with around 3,250 plant species, a significant part of traditional agricultural varieties is disappearing from everyday use. For decades, Albanian farmers selected seeds from plants that best coped with the climatic conditions of their area. This natural selection created unique varieties of tomatoes, corn, beans, wheat, onions and fruit trees, adapted to the local soils, rainfall and temperatures. Each generation of farmers added a new chapter to this legacy, until the cycle was interrupted.
The Invisible Revolution
After the 1990s, the Albanian market was flooded with hybrid seeds and ready-made seedlings. For the farmer, this was understandable. A ready-made seedling saved weeks of work. Modern varieties promised higher yields, earlier ripening, and uniform-sized fruits, suitable for markets and supermarkets. From an economic point of view, they were more profitable. But this also had an invisible cost.
Unlike traditional seeds, most hybrid seeds cannot be stored for the following season without losing their characteristics. Farmers are forced to buy them again every year, creating a constant dependence on the market.
This dependence is now reflected in international trade figures. According to UN Comtrade data, during 2024, Albania imported vegetable seeds for planting worth $6.6 million, while corn seed imports reached about $2.6 million. Planting material comes mainly from Turkey, Italy, China, France, the Netherlands and other countries, indicating that a significant part of Albanian agricultural production now relies on international supply chains.
For Xhavit Gjoshi, this is one of the biggest changes that modern agriculture has brought. Unlike traditional seeds, which farmers could save and use again the following season, most hybrid seeds do not reproduce the same characteristics in the second planting. This means that the farmer must buy new planting material almost every year, increasing production costs and making the sector increasingly dependent on imports. “If once the seed was stored at home and passed from father to son, today almost everything is bought. Along with the seed, the knowledge of how to select and store it is also being lost,” he says.
Seeds that know how to survive
Scientists consider traditional varieties to be a “living bank” of genetic traits. Over hundreds of years, they have naturally adapted to droughts, frosts, diseases and the specific conditions of each area. It is precisely this genetic diversity that gives them a value that cannot be measured by yield alone. At a time when climate change is bringing higher temperatures, longer periods of drought and more extreme rainfall, this genetic heritage becomes even more crucial.
FAO considers agricultural biodiversity to be one of the key elements for building more climate-resilient food systems. The greater the genetic diversity, the greater the opportunities to develop crops that can withstand new climate conditions. In contrast, relying on only a limited number of modern cultivars increases the risk that a single disease or extreme weather event will damage large-scale production. It is the same logic that operates in nature: a forest with dozens of tree species is more resilient than a forest with just one. Agriculture works in exactly the same way.
Seed banking: Why freezing is not enough
On the upper floors of the Agricultural University of Tirana lies one of the least known institutions to the public, but at the same time one of the most important for the future of Albanian agriculture. Inside the National Germplasm Bank, thousands of seed samples collected over the past decades from every corner of the country are stored.
For researchers, conservation in gene banks is only part of the solution. The Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations (FAO) also emphasizes that ex situ conservation in seed banks must be accompanied by on-farm conservation, through the continued cultivation of traditional varieties by farmers. Only in this way can seeds continue to evolve and adapt to climate change, diseases and new environmental conditions.
According to Prof. Dr. Valbona Hobdari, Director of the Institute of Plant Genetic Resources, the national inventory includes about 5,200 accessions belonging to 220 plant species. Of these, 4,120 are preserved as seeds in the National Germplasm Bank, while approximately 1,100 varieties are kept as living collections of fruit trees in experimental stations in Tirana, Korça and Vlora. Among them are varieties of wheat, corn and beans that have been cultivated in Albania for more than a century.
“Many of the varieties bear the names of the villages where they were traditionally cultivated,” explains Hobdari. “The best way to preserve them is through continued use in agriculture. However, only a limited number continue to be cultivated by farmers.”
From Albania to the Arctic
In February 2023, Albania took a step that few Balkan countries have taken. Some 1,900 local seed accessions, almost half of the national collection, were sent to the Svalbard Global Seed Vault, the world's largest seed bank, built on a Norwegian island near the North Pole. There, in natural subzero temperatures, more than a million seed samples from almost every country in the world are stored.
Svalbard was created as an insurance policy for humanity. In the event of war, natural disasters, accidents or the loss of national collections, countries can recover their genetic material. Albania now also has a “backup copy” of its agricultural heritage. But Hobdari emphasizes that this should not create the illusion that the problem has been solved.
“The storage in Svalbard is a very important guarantee for the long-term preservation of genetic resources,” she says. “However, agricultural biodiversity does not consist only of frozen seeds.”
A variety that exists only in a seed bank, she explains, no longer adapts to climate change, does not evolve with the soil, and no longer maintains its connection to the traditional knowledge of farmers.
Seeds need farmers
Two concepts are used in the scientific community: Ex situ means preserving seeds in gene banks. In situ, or on-farm, means preserving them while continuing cultivation on the farm.
For Hobdari, only a combination of these two methods can guarantee the survival of traditional varieties. “A traditional variety preserved only in the freezers of a gene bank is like a book kept in an archive,” she says. “The information is not lost, but it does not continue to be developed and used.”
According to Hobdar, the most at risk are traditional populations of wheat, corn, and barley; native legumes, such as some types of beans and chickpeas; traditional vegetables, including tomatoes, peppers, onions, and local cabbages; as well as a large number of fruit trees and local grape cultivars. But the risk does not lie solely in the loss of a single variety.
“The biggest loss is the loss of genetic diversity,” she explains. “It is this diversity that gives crops the ability to adapt to climate change, diseases and new pests.”
This is also the main concern of international organizations working on food security. The more dependent the agricultural system becomes on a few modern varieties, the more exposed it becomes to future crises.
“Preserving traditional varieties is not just about protecting biodiversity,” she concludes. “It is an investment in food security, sustainable rural development and Albania’s agricultural identity.”
However, as scientists continue to preserve the seeds in laboratories and in the global Svalbard seed bank, the question remains: If these seeds are not returned to Albanian fields, who will plant them in twenty or fifty years?
Seeds are not only saved in banks, but also through policies
In the laboratories of the National Germplasm Bank, the temperature hardly ever changes. Freezers carefully preserve a wealth built up over centuries by Albanian farmers. But outside the laboratories, in the fields where this heritage should continue to live on, the reality is quite different. Most traditional varieties are not disappearing because they cannot survive. They are disappearing because they are no longer cultivated.
This is precisely why organizations such as the FAO and the International Treaty on Plant Genetic Resources for Food and Agriculture (ITPGRFA) do not consider ex situ conservation—that is, in gene banks—sufficient. In their documents, they emphasize that “on-farm” conservation, through continuous cultivation by farmers, is as important as conservation in the laboratory. Only in this way can the variety continue to evolve, adapt to the climate, and remain part of the food system.
In many European countries, this has become public policy. Italy subsidizes the cultivation of traditional varieties in certain regions. France has created national networks of “caretaker farmers” who multiply native seeds. Norway, in addition to hosting the Global Seed Bank in Svalbard, invests in the active conservation of local varieties on its farms. In Albania, such a policy is still lacking.
Millions for agriculture, but no scheme for local seeds
Albania has significantly increased public funding for agriculture in recent years. For 2026, the government has planned around 5.2 billion lek in subsidies and grants for farmers, while funds for the Rural Development Program amount to 7.7 billion lek.
However, an analysis of the IPARD III Programme documents and national support schemes shows that there is no specific instrument to subsidise the cultivation or restoration of traditional Albanian varieties.
The IPARD programme supports the use of certified planting material and investments in farm modernisation, but does not provide specific payments for farmers who conserve or multiply local seeds. In practice, this means that farmers who choose to keep traditional varieties alive do not benefit from a specific economic incentive, unlike the agri-environmental practices supported in some European Union countries.
During the preparation of this article, the Ministry of Agriculture unofficially admitted that the country lacks a specific strategy for the promotion and return of local seeds to cultivation, implying that the market operates according to the logic of supply and demand.
In practice, this means that the choice is left to the farmer. But the farmer chooses what provides him with income. In the long run, reliance on a limited number of commercial seeds increases the vulnerability of the entire agricultural system.
It is for this reason that FAO considers genetic diversity an “insurance policy” for the future of agriculture. Native seeds are not preserved simply because they are part of history; they are preserved because they may carry genetic traits that could be crucial tomorrow for the development of crops that are more resistant to climate change, water scarcity or new diseases.
Return to the field
When spring comes to Xhavit Gjoshi's farm, he keeps opening the same glass jars. He carefully selects the seeds. He plants them. He waits…
The yield is not always higher than that of modern seedlings. But that is not why he persists. “When I eat that tomato,” he says, “I know it is what I ate as a child and it is the same one I give to my grandchildren.”
At a time when thousands of Albanian seeds are stored in frozen warehouses in Tirana and in the Arctic, the battle for their survival will not be won in the laboratory. It will only be won if they continue to be planted; if farmers have economic reasons to cultivate them; if consumers demand them; if public policies support them; and if the new generation sees the seed not as a relic of the past, but as an investment in the future. Because a frozen seed can preserve life, but only a planted seed can continue it./ acqj.al
