While Herzegovina reaches the dramatic climax of an economic tragedy, here in the rest of the country, yet another frivolous story unfolds. Or is it?

Cazin, July 8 – Representatives of the IT Girls initiative visited elementary schools across Bosnia and Herzegovina, delivering ten Arduino programming kits. “These sets will help our students and teachers refine their IT skills,” said Elvedin Delalić, director of Cazin II Elementary School.

Mostar, July 10 – Five minutes past midnight, the giant Aluminij was disconnected from the power grid. Workers of the Mostar behemoth stood in shock outside the factory, while a vehicle from the MUP of HNK lingered nearby. The decision to shut down the company had already been signed by director Dražen Pandža.

What do these two events have in common, aside from happening almost back-to-back? While Herzegovina witnesses the dramatic culmination of an economic tragedy that’s been simmering for at least a decade and a half—leading to the collapse of one of “the pillars of the region’s and the entire country’s economy” (as patriotically enlightened economists put it)—here in the rest of the country, instead of concrete, useful, and necessary action, we get yet another seemingly trivial tale. Or do we? Before we succumb to the toxic mentality of dismissing facts at face value, let’s look at things from another angle.

Even before Aluminij’s collapse, Bosnia and Herzegovina’s unemployment rate stood at 20.5%. Among those aged 15 to 24, the numbers are staggering: 43% of young men and a shocking 51.3% of young women are without work. When discussing unemployment, the demands of the labor market must factor into the equation. According to data from the BiH Employment Agency, the most sought-after professions are in the IT sector—particularly electrical engineers—followed by civil engineers, pharmacists, and doctors. Recruitment agencies report (via ITgirls.ba) that diplomas from electrical engineering faculties are among the most lucrative. And yet, by 2020, the EU will face a shortage of 900,000 qualified IT workers.

The events from early July don’t just reflect current affairs—they mirror global trends. Worldwide, including in BiH, we’re witnessing a shift in economic models: the era of “giants” is being replaced by the “gig” economy, a free market where temporary, tech-driven jobs are the norm rather than the exception, and businesses hire independent contractors based on project needs. The state is aware of this shift. Last year, the FBiH Tax Administration demanded freelancers retroactively pay taxes on all income from 2015 to 2017, prompting them to form the Freelance Association of BiH. Today, it brings together hundreds working in IT, design, apps, writing, translation, online teaching, and even project management, virtual assistance, and fashion design.

This is why the IT Girls initiative deserves praise—by distributing mini-robots to schools, they’re preparing future workers for the new reality of the labor market, with a special focus on girls, who remain a stark minority in these fields. They’re not alone in this mission. The Bit Alliance and our ICT Committee at AmCham BiH, gathering the country’s biggest IT players, share the goal of fostering a better environment for the sector’s growth. Microsoft takes it further with the regional “Gen-D” program, partnering with Propulsion and the “Petlja” Foundation to offer a prize-winning digital curriculum across five regional countries, cultivating algorithmic thinking and problem-solving in future generations. The British Council’s multimillion “Schools for the 21st Century” project also operates on the understanding that digital literacy, along with creative, critical, and analytical thinking, will be essential for individual and societal progress.

So, last week wasn’t just about “two witches.” We witnessed—and are still witnessing—the symbolic, noisy crash of the old economy and the emergence of timid but ever-strengthening voices of the new era.

Which voice does your business speak in?

Three and a half support walls on Corridor 10, swallowed by the earth. Two weeks’ worth of savings from slashed pensions. The last presidential elections. Each of these things cost around €10.8 million. A lot or a little? What would you do with that money?

That’s how much all Serbian companies combined invested last year in corporate social responsibility (CSR). While philanthropy isn’t new here, international companies post-2000 brought fresh business practices, including CSR. The gist? A company operates in a community, extracts value (profit, knowledge, resources, talent), and “gives back”—usually by funding a humanitarian project, sending a kid to a competition, or covering someone’s medical bills. A single issue gets solved, PR packages it neatly, the public nods, and everyone wins.

But the idea of “owing” society isn’t new. 200 years ago, during the Industrial Revolution, pioneers like John H. Patterson (founder of NCR) realized worker welfare boosted productivity. They introduced safety standards, healthcare, paid leave, and profit-sharing. And they didn’t stop at factory gates—they built legacies. Where would the University of Belgrade’s rector sit today if Miša Anastasijević, the Danube shipping magnate, hadn’t donated the very building that now houses the Rectorate?

Beyond Charity: The New CSR

Today in Serbia—despite VAT on every donation—some companies are flipping the script. Their investments are strategic, long-term, and transformative.

Take young people: if you’re under 30 here, you’ve likely graduated, live with parents, plan to emigrate, and can’t find work. Enter Coca-Cola’s “Support for Youth” program. Alongside initiatives for students, interns, and future managers, it helps thousands annually bridge the education-business gap. Though Coca-Cola contributes just 1% of Serbia’s GDP, it bets on youth shaping their professional identities—and thus, the country’s future.

Or education: Five years ago, kids learned dial-up internet in IT class. Ask a sixth-grader today? Scratch, Python, and robotics—thanks to Microsoft, the Petlja Foundation, and Digital Serbia. Since last year, IT is mandatory in 5th grade, with a revamped 6th-grade curriculum. Microsoft trained 1,200 IT teachers nationwide in algorithmic literacy, fueling Serbia’s booming tech export sector for the next decade.

And sustainability: Where would 3.5 million cans from 120+ festivals end up? Belgrade’s Ball factory (through its Recan Foundation) recycled them, educating 2 million people on recycling’s importance.

The Point? Strategy Over Guilt

These companies—and a handful of others—get it: PR-driven charity is weak. €10.8 million won’t patch our infrastructure, healthcare, or education, let alone fix them (that’s the state’s job). The goal isn’t “paying a debt” anymore—it’s investing in a better Serbia.

So they spend those millions in ways that multiply returns: a generation that won’t let the country collapse. Figuratively or literally.