It is 3:40 p.m. on October 6, 2025. A judge at the Court of Appeal in the Albanian capital, Tirana, is reading out a verdict. Seconds later, three shots ring out in the courtroom, hitting the judge at the bench and sending people fleeing in panic. Astrit Kalaja, 62, later succumbsย to his injuries.
The ruling Kalaja was reading out concerned a property dispute dating back to 1992, a case that had moved through Albania’s courts for more than three decades without final resolution.
The man who pulled the trigger was 30-year-old Elvis Shkambi. Police said he opened fire after the court ruling went against his family โ a ruling he later described as “scandalous” and the result of years of injustice over his family’s property.
Reform without precedent
The killing came nearly 10 years after Albania launched a program of reform that sought to rebuild trust and combat corruption in the judiciary.
In July 2016, Albania launched its most radical ever reform of its justice system whenย the 140 members of its parliament voted unanimously in favor of the constitutional amendments that would shape the justice reform.
This rare consensus was strongly supported and welcomed by the European Union and the United States.
Strict vetting process
At the heart of the reform was the vetting process, which stipulated a comprehensive review of the assets, integrity and professional conduct of every judge and prosecutor in the country.
“Corrupt judges and prosecutors will be removed from the justice system by the vetting process,” vowed Prime Minister Edi Rama at the time.
“This reform was the first of its kind in the world,” said Alban Koci, a legal scholar at the University of Tirana. “It was designed to serve citizens, to protect them from corruption, restore the dignity of judges and rebuild trust in the justice system,” he told DW.
But the scale and speed of the reform soon exposed the limits of a system unable to absorb such radical change.
From clean-up to collapse
Albania’s justice reform fundamentally changed the structure of the judiciary.
The vetting process removed judges faster than the system could replace them: Around 65% of judges and prosecutors were dismissed in the first five years alone.
As the vetting process moved up the hierarchy, the reform paralyzed the country’s highest courts, leaving Albania without a Constitutional Court and a High Court for nearly two years.
At the same time, the new judicial map was consolidated, closing or merging 20 courts nationwide.
The combined effect was a system that was operating at a severely reduced capacity. According to the Ombudsman’s annual report for 2024, Albania has just 9.8 judges per 100,000 inhabitants, roughly half the European average.
In Alban Koci’s view, European standards were applied to a justice system that was not capable of supporting them.
Growing backlog
As backlogs grew, the consequences of the reform became visible.
At the Court of Appeal alone, more than 45,800 cases have been carried over since 2017. The court currently operates with about 40 judges โ just over half of the 78 positions foreseen under its official structure.
For citizens, this has meant years of waiting. “The judicial map shifted the burden onto the public,” said Koci. “If a case once took three years to resolve, today, the average is 15 years.”
For years, television cameras have been stationed outside Albania’s Special Prosecution Office against Corruption and Organized Crime (SPAK), the flagship product of the reform.
Its investigations into senior political figures have come to symbolize the justice reform’s promise of accountability at the highest level.
Yet SPAK handles roughly 3% of all criminal cases, focusing on high-level corruption and organized crime.
The remaining 97% of cases โ civil disputes, family law cases, administrative claims and everyday criminal matters โ are dealt with by ordinary courts.
“The goal of the reform should be justice delivered to the citizen,” saidย Koci.
Constant strain on Albania’s courts
Just a few meters away from SPAK’s modern headquarters in Tirana, a very different reality emerges.
The Criminal Chamber of the Tirana Court is housed in a building that once served as a dormitory for special police forces. Converted into a courtroom in 2010, it was never designed to function as the country’s busiest criminal court.
Gerd Hoxha, who has served at the court for 23 years and is now its deputy head as well as the chair of the Union of Judges, describes a system operating under constant strain.
“My court today lacks security staff and court clerks,” Hoxha told DW. “I have repeatedly requested additional personnel, including at least 80 legal assistants to support the work of the court.”
Working conditions have also become a legal and political issue. Judges have turned to the Constitutional Court, arguing that rulings on salaries and employment conditions have not been properly enforced.
Prime Minister Edi Rama has publicly dismissed the judges’ demands, saying their pay already exceeds that of judges in several neighboring countries.
Judges say such public rhetoric adds to an already tense climate.
“A judge who does not feel safe cannot work calmly,” Hoxha adds. “And a judge who cannot work calmly cannot deliver impartial justice.”
Citizens at the end of the process
For most citizens, the consequences of Albania’s justice reform are felt not in high-profile corruption cases, but in the daily work of ordinary courts, where the vast majority of cases are handled.
According to Gerd Hoxha, a judge may be required to make up to 1,000 rulings a year, a workload that inevitably affects the quality of justice.
“Under such pressure, judges are forced to prioritize the cases deemed most urgent for social stability,” saidย Hoxha.
Where to from here?
Justice reform has been a central pillar of Albania’s ambition to join the EU for more than a decade.
While the reform has been praised for strengthening the fight against corruption and organized crime, Brussels has also stressed that its credibility ultimately depends on effective implementation, legal certainty and a judiciary that functions fully and independently.
When asked what could be done to ease the burden on the courts and change things for the better, Koci had two suggestions: “Firstly, I believe the old judicial map should be reinstated,” he told DW. “Secondly, temporary judicial panels should be created to deal with the backlog.”
Hoxha recommendedย a different approach: “The recruitment process for magistrates has serious flaws and needs to be changed,” he said. “One option would be to allow third-year magistrates to start exercising judicial functions under the supervision of an experienced judge to help cope with the current backlog.”
Hope without legal certainty
For Koci, the reform that was launched a decade ago raised expectations without delivering legal certainty.
“It has given citizens hope, but not guarantees,” he said. “When a legal solution takes three times longer than before, yesterday’s justice was, in practice, more efficient.”
The killing of the judge Astrit Kalaja exposed a system in which justice can take decades to arrive โ if it arrives at all.
“In such conditions, the meaning of an old legal principle becomes unavoidable: Justice delayed is justice denied” said Koci.
Edited by: Aingeal Flanagan