by Serbeze Haxhiaj
Nerimane Kamberi is not only a university professor of French, a poet, and a publicist, but also a journalist who, for more than three decades, has worked as a fixer and producer for some of the world’s most prestigious media outlets.
“It’s a shadow job. It’s very satisfying when you see extraordinary stories you’ve contributed so much to everything except the actual writing,” she said. “At the same time, it’s very frustrating because you’re not the author or co-author of a story that wouldn’t have happened without you.”
“Sometimes, it’s done under very difficult conditions, even at risk,” she adds.
One of those moments came in 1989, when miners in Kosovo went on strike to protest the revocation of the province’s autonomy. Kamberi, then working with a French TV crew, was detained by police for several hours. The journalists she was assisting refused to leave until she was released.
Fluent in French, English, and Serbian, Kamberi quickly became one of the most trusted fixers in Kosovo. But trust did not make the job safer. In the early post-war years, when infrastructure was almost nonexistent, she often had to race down damaged roads to deliver footage to Prishtina so it could be sent directly to international television stations.
“I often had to drive very fast on bad roads to get to Prishtina and send the footage for the news,” she recalls.
Born in Belgium to an ethnic Albanian family from Presheva, Kamberi returned to Kosovo and carved out a career in this unseen profession. She describes the work of a fixer as an art.
“It requires skill and creativity, and always having a plan B,” she said.
Working for major broadcasters sometimes gave her visibility, since her name could appear as producer or contributor, but newspapers were different.
“When you work for TV stations, especially large French or Swiss ones, the job offers more visibility because your name appears as a producer or contributor. But that rarely happens with newspapers,” she explained.
With reporters from The New York Times or Le Monde, she sometimes ended up preparing whole scripts. The most bitter memory was a two-page article in Le Monde at the start of Slobodan Milošević ’s trial, a piece she had almost entirely arranged and researched.
“Those two pages were almost entirely my work. The journalist felt bad and told me, ‘Your name should have been in the article.’”
During Kosovo’s declaration of independence, Kamberi again found herself in an unusual position: the foreign crew she was supporting did not understand what was happening.
“I took on the role of a journalist for French national TV,” she said. “It was a job that went far beyond the title of fixer, beyond the job description usually assigned to this role.”
Looking back, she added: “When you see the impact of such articles or stories, it’s rewarding, even if you feel like you didn’t get the recognition you deserved.”
Recognition, however, was not just about a byline. It was also financial.
“There was a time when this work was better paid because there was high interest in Kosovo,” she said.
But in recent years, demand has declined, and “now the job pays less, even though advances in technology have made some aspects easier.”
The pressure of deadlines, arranging interviews, and managing logistics has never gone away.
“It’s a very difficult job that often goes unrewarded,” she said. “But it’s also an extraordinary experience.”
At times, the pressure has been moral as well as logistical. Vulnerable interviewees sometimes asked her to “improve” their statements.
“As both a translator and a journalist, the principle is to translate exactly what is said, not to polish it, and that has often put me in an uncomfortable position,” she said.
Being a woman, she explained, made it easier to enter private homes, especially in rural areas, and to gain the trust of women. But her role often extended beyond a crew’s departure.
“Often, the work doesn’t end the day the team leaves Kosovo,” she said. “This work has always gone far beyond translation or logistical support; you often serve as a guide to the country’s history, culture, traditions, and social customs.”
Kamberi likens the craft of a fixer to perfume-making.
“Someone else has created and crafted the fragrance with great effort,” she said. “But in the end, it’s the brand name that gets the credit.”