The violent confrontation in Sarandë that led to six arrests, one wanted person and the suspension of two State Police officers has now opened a much wider and darker question: what happens when a business owner no longer sees the police as protection, but as a source of pressure and fear?
In a television interview with the investigative program STOP on TV Klan, Spiro Iljadhi, owner of Orange Club in Sarandë, made serious allegations against police structures, claiming that his business has been subjected to repeated pressure, inspections, fines and what he describes as deliberate provocations.
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| Spiro Iljadhi, owner of the Orange Club in Sarandë, during his interview with the investigative program STOP on TV Klan, where he raised serious allegations regarding police pressure, corruption, and misconduct. |
The accusations have not been established as facts by a court, and the competent authorities would need to investigate them independently. But if substantiated, they would point to a deeply troubling abuse of state power.
“They Ask Us for Money”
According to Iljadhi, the pressure goes beyond ordinary police inspections.
He claims that police chiefs have demanded money from him and that after he refused such demands, the pressure on his business allegedly intensified.
The accusation is particularly serious because it describes a system in which law-enforcement powers could potentially be used not primarily to enforce the law, but to intimidate a private business.
For a business operating in one of Albania's most important tourism destinations, the consequences can extend far beyond a single owner.
A club depends on employees, security guards, suppliers, taxi drivers, hotels, restaurants and thousands of tourists. When a business becomes the target of continuous conflict with authorities, the economic damage can spread through an entire local network.
And this is where the Sarandë case becomes more than another story about a nightclub.
It becomes a question about the price of doing business in a society where trust in institutions is fragile.
Accusation of an Attempt to Introduce Drugs Into the Club
Iljadhi makes an even more explosive allegation.
He claims that the chief of criminal investigations sought to have narcotics introduced and distributed inside the club, allegedly with the intention of later attributing responsibility to the establishment.
“We have reason to suspect that they are trying to provoke us and create artificial situations inside the club. We will not accept anyone attempting to bring drugs into our premises and then use the Police to attack us.”
These are allegations made by the business owner and should not be treated as proven facts without an independent investigation and supporting evidence.
Nevertheless, they are allegations that cannot simply be dismissed if there is evidence capable of verifying them.
If a police officer or official were ever proven to have deliberately facilitated the placement of illegal drugs inside a business in order to manufacture a criminal case, the implications would be extraordinary. It would represent not merely corruption, but a potential corruption of the very mechanism through which criminal cases are created.
“We Catch Them With Drugs — Then We See Them Free Again”
Iljadhi also claims that security personnel at Orange Club have on several occasions caught people suspected of distributing narcotics and handed them over to the police.
According to his account, some of those individuals were allegedly seen back on the streets only about an hour later.
“We catch them distributing drugs, we hand them over to the Police, and after an hour we see them free again.”
Again, this is the business owner's allegation, not an established judicial finding.
But the claim raises a fundamental question: what happens when citizens begin to believe that reporting crime produces no meaningful consequences?
If people who work in private security believe that suspects they hand over to police are quickly released without explanation, their confidence in law enforcement can deteriorate.
The consequences can be dangerous.
Businesses may stop cooperating with police. Security personnel may become more aggressive. Citizens may decide to resolve disputes themselves. And organized criminal groups can benefit from the resulting institutional vacuum.
The Sarandë Police Incident Makes the Allegations More Significant
Iljadhi's accusations come only days after another controversial incident in Sarandë involving senior police personnel.
In the early hours of August 16, a violent confrontation occurred outside an establishment on Butrinti Street.
According to the State Police, security guards became involved in a confrontation and failed to notify police. Deputy Commissioner Mateo Bakalli, Chief of the Criminal Investigation Sector at the Sarandë Police Station, was passing through the area and intervened.
Video footage from the incident appears to show Bakalli drawing his service pistol and pointing it toward security guards during the confrontation.
Police subsequently said that the officer was assaulted and that he acted in self-defense while requesting assistance.
Special intervention units arrived shortly afterward.
The investigation resulted in six arrests, while another security guard was declared wanted.
At the same time, two State Police officers were suspended after authorities determined that they had allegedly been working at the establishment without authorization while off duty and had failed to report the confrontation.
The State Police has also said that the Directorate of Professional Standards launched a disciplinary investigation.
The footage alone does not establish whether the use of the firearm was lawful or proportionate. That determination belongs to the competent authorities.
But the timing is difficult to ignore.
When Police, Nightlife and Money Collide
Sarandë is one of Albania's most economically important tourism destinations.
Every summer, thousands of visitors arrive, while restaurants, hotels, beach clubs, nightclubs, taxi operators and hundreds of seasonal workers depend on the tourism economy.
That makes the relationship between police, nightlife businesses and money particularly sensitive.
A functioning tourism economy requires rules. Clubs need security. Drugs need to be prevented. Violence needs to be controlled. Tax and licensing regulations need to be enforced.
But enforcement only works when businesses believe that the rules are applied equally.
If a business owner believes that inspections, fines or police interventions are being used selectively to punish him because he refused to pay money, the problem is no longer simply commercial.
It becomes institutional.
And the social cost can be enormous.
The Tragic Consequence of Institutional Distrust
The most dangerous consequence of alleged police corruption is not always the money that changes hands.
It is the loss of trust.
A police officer is supposed to represent the state at its most visible level. For an ordinary citizen, the uniform should mean protection, accountability and the enforcement of the same law for everyone.
When that image is replaced by accusations of demands for money, intimidation, fabricated cases or selective enforcement, the psychological relationship between citizens and the state begins to collapse.
For small and medium-sized businesses, the fear can be particularly destructive.
An owner who believes that refusing an unofficial payment could result in repeated inspections, fines or criminal accusations may begin to see corruption not as an exception, but as a cost of survival.
That is how corruption becomes economically self-perpetuating.
The honest business pays the price, while those willing to participate in informal arrangements gain an advantage.
What Must Be Investigated
Spiro Iljadhi's allegations are serious enough to require more than political statements or social-media arguments.
If he possesses evidence that police officials demanded money, attempted to facilitate the introduction of narcotics into his establishment, or deliberately used police powers to manufacture cases against his business, that evidence should be examined by independent investigative and judicial authorities.
At the same time, the business owner and everyone else involved must remain subject to the law.
The answer cannot be that private businesses are above police controls.
Nor can the answer be that police authority places officers beyond scrutiny.
The same principle must apply to everyone: if there is evidence of criminal activity, investigate it; if there is evidence of police abuse or corruption, investigate that too.
Sarandë Needs Law Enforcement — But It Also Needs Trust
The controversy surrounding Orange Club comes at a particularly sensitive moment for Sarandë.
A tourist city cannot build a sustainable economy solely through beaches, hotels and nightlife. It also needs institutions that residents, businesses and visitors believe are fair.
The deeper tragedy is what happens when that trust disappears.
A business owner who fears the police.
A security guard who believes handing suspects to police is pointless.
A tourist who witnesses violence.
A police officer who becomes involved in a confrontation while carrying a service weapon.
And a community left wondering which version of events it should believe.
These are not isolated problems.
They are symptoms of a much larger institutional question:
Who protects citizens when the people entrusted with enforcing the law themselves become the subject of serious allegations?
That question should not be answered by television interviews, political loyalty or social-media campaigns.
It should be answered by evidence, transparent investigations, prosecutors and courts.
Until then, the allegations made by Spiro Iljadhi remain allegations — but they deserve to be investigated with the seriousness that their potential implications demand.