In a bid to boost viewership, Albanian TV station Zjarr made headlines with an unconventional approach: hiring young journalist Enki Bracaj, who delivered news segments without wearing a bra. Albania, a traditionally conservative Balkan nation where about 60% of the population identifies as Muslim, reacted strongly to the station’s choice, sparking heated debates and garnering widespread attention on social media.
Despite the initial backlash, Zjarr’s strategy proved remarkably successful. “In Albania, where political influence often manipulates the news, viewers were ready for a medium that delivered information ‘naked’—both literally and symbolically,” explained Zjarr TV owner Ismet Drishti in a 2016 interview with AFP.
Drishti emphasized that the presentation aimed not at sensationalism but at promoting transparency in news reporting. “We aren’t selling sex; we’re presenting the news as it is. This approach is both symbolic and effective for publicity.”
Enki Bracaj, then 21, quickly became a local celebrity after joining Zjarr in 2016. She explained that the idea to present braless was her own, inspired by her decision to wear an open blouse to her job interview.
“In this competitive industry, I just found a way to stand out,” Enki said, noting that her family was supportive of her choice. “To succeed, I knew I had to be bold and offer something different.”
When Enki eventually left Zjarr, rumors circulated that salary disputes were to blame, but the station felt she overstepped when she took a modeling opportunity with Playboy.
Her successor, 24-year-old Greta Hoxhaj, followed a similar style in her on-air presentation. “I worked in local television for five years with little recognition,” Hoxhaj said. “In just three months at Zjarr, I became a star.” She noted that her appearance on air was far more provocative than her everyday style.
Videos of these Albanian news anchors have since gone viral, igniting debate. While some viewers support their choice of dress, others argue that media outlets should prioritize professionalism and respect.
“Too many women on TV have necklines that are way too low,” one viewer commented. Another added, “It’s disheartening to see such tactics used just to gain screen time.”
Despite the criticism, Hoxhaj remains unfazed. “What matters is that I’m succeeding in my work and enjoying my newfound fame. I have a beautiful life filled with love,” she shared.
What do you think about this approach to news broadcasting?
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I Came Home from Vacation to Find a Huge Hole Dug in My Backyard – I Wanted to Call the Cops until I Saw What Was at the Bottom
When I cut short our vacation due to Karen falling ill, the last thing I expected was to find a massive hole in our backyard upon returning home. Initially alarmed, I hesitated when I spotted a shovel inside, leading me into an unexpected adventure involving buried treasure, newfound friendship, and lessons in life’s true values.
Karen and I rushed back from the beach early after she fell ill. Exhausted but wary, I decided to check the house’s perimeter before settling in. That’s when I stumbled upon the gaping pit in our lawn.
“What’s this?” I muttered, approaching cautiously.
At the bottom, amid scattered debris, lay a shovel. My first instinct was to call the police, but then I considered the possibility that the digger might return, knowing we were supposed to be away.
Turning to Karen, who looked unwell, I suggested keeping the car hidden in the garage to maintain the appearance of absence.
As night descended, I kept vigil by a window, watching and waiting. Just as I was about to give up, I spotted a shadow vaulting over our fence.
Heart pounding, I ventured out with my phone ready to call the authorities. Approaching the pit, I heard the clink of metal on earth.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, shining my phone’s light into the hole. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The figure looked up, squinting. My jaw dropped—it was George, the previous owner of our house.
“Frank?” he stammered, equally surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here, remember?” I retorted. “What are you doing in my yard in the middle of the night?”
George climbed out, looking sheepish. “I can explain. Just… please don’t involve the police.”
Arms folded, I demanded an explanation.
“My grandfather owned this place,” George began, “and I recently discovered he hid something valuable here. I thought I’d dig it up while you were away.”
“You broke into my yard to hunt for treasure?” I couldn’t believe it.
“I know how it sounds,” George pleaded, “but it’s true. Help me dig, and we’ll split whatever we find.”
Despite my better judgment, I agreed. Over hours of digging, we shared stories, George revealing his hardships—a lost job and his wife’s illness. His hope for this treasure to change their lives touched me.
As dawn approached, our optimism dwindled with each shovel of dirt revealing nothing but rocks and roots.
“I was so sure…” George’s disappointment was palpable.
Offering a ride home, we filled the pit and drove to his house, where his wife, Margaret, greeted us anxiously.
“George! Where have you been?” Margaret exclaimed, eyeing me curiously.
Explaining the situation, George’s dream of buried treasure was deflated by Margaret’s reality check.
“My grandfather’s tales were just that—stories,” she gently reminded him.
Apologizing, George and Margaret offered to repair our yard. I declined, suggesting they join us for dinner instead.
Driving home, I shared the night’s escapade with Karen, who teased me about my unusual night with a stranger. Reflecting on our conversation, I proposed inviting George and Margaret for dinner—an unexpected outcome from a night of digging for imaginary treasure.
As I assessed the yard in daylight, I realized life’s treasures aren’t always what we seek but the connections we forge along the way.
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