I bought a car recently. I did have my doubts about it when I saw it was leaking oil on the day I picked up the keys, but still, the nice man reassured me, and I parted with the cash: 300,000 euro to be exact.
The car dealer told me it was a bargain - and I had shopped around. Another three sellers had given me higher offers, so I was pretty confident the price was right.
Unfortunately, it later transpired that I’d paid 30 times more than the dealer had, and that, in fact, he put it together from two old cars. It’s so dangerous I hardly ever take it out to be honest.
Things got worse when I then found out that the three other offers I received were actually from companies all connected to the same guy.
Still, I’m sure they wouldn’t have told each other the prices they were going to offer me, even if they were based at the same office, and had the same members of staff.
But that’s all in the past now. As the old engine wasn’t working so well, I went back to the same dealer, who promised me another really good deal. I’ve bought another two cars from him which have set me back another 420,000 euro. Hopefully at least one of those will work.
Oh, and did I mention that I’m also getting this guy to build me a house?
He has never done anything like that before, but he says that he is “very good” so I’m keeping my fingers crossed. I’m paying him 4.3 million euro for that.
If you are beginning to worry that I’m being taken for a ride, then spare me the sympathy - so are you.
In fact, it is Pristina Municipality which has paid millions of taxpayers’ money, first, for one “dodgy” fire engine, then another two this year, and now a new Ibrahim Rugova
Square, all from the same firm.
Pristina Municipality is like a drunk at the bar shouting “edhe nje”, even though it knows that it’s going to hurt so much more in the cold light of day.
The prosecution has deemed that there is “insufficient evidence” to prosecute in the first “dodgy” case, despite pretty damning evidence collected by this newspaper. Maybe that hangover will never come.
I choose to think differently, and in my own way will be shouting “edhje nje” as we reprise this troubling affair on the front page of a future edition.
I’d like to get my money back, and so should you.
Kosovo’s domestic soaps are falling victim to cheap imports from Turkey and Latin America.