Kajaran is a city where nearly every conversation about the future leads back to the mine. Here, mountains are seen not as nature, but as raw material, and people as part of a mechanism extracting it. For many years, Shavarsh Margaryan was part of that mechanism too—until a strike changed his path. “That was the moment I understood I would not return to work,” Shavarsh says. “I decided to engage in public activity and focus on the problems of our community. That is how the NGO Citadel was born.” According to Shavarsh, Kajaran’s deepest problem is not only pollution or economic dependency, but a mindset: the belief that there is no life beyond the mine. To challenge this, he often points to Dastakert, one of Armenia’s smallest towns. “Once it was an industrially vibrant city. Today it is abandoned and forgotten,” he says. “I don’t want Kajaran to share that fate.” Determined to prevent this future—or at least soften its impact—Shavarsh gathered a team and began working on alternative visions for development. For him, “green” initiatives are not just about environmental protection; they are tools for building a different kind of economy. In this process, the NESEHNUTÍ organization stands by his side as a partner. Shavarsh is now launching the initiative “Towards Ecological and Social Justice” in Kajaran and several neighboring communities. The idea sounds simple, but in reality it is radical: residents themselves will write a local development program, and the community council will be pushed to adopt it. Involving people, however, is not easy. “One of the biggest challenges is finding motivated residents,” Shavarsh explains. “Many agree with the ideas, but not everyone is ready to take concrete action. Building a team was difficult.” Despite this, he has a clear plan. The initiative combines grassroots work—focus group discussions, community meetings, data collection—with engagement at institutional level, including dialogue with ministries and responsible bodies. “I want residents themselves to speak about problems and solutions,” Shavarsh says. “They know what they need.” As a resident of Kajaran, he already has concrete proposals: installing air quality monitoring devices similar to those used in Yerevan, identifying sources of river pollution, and opening public discussions based on data rather than assumptions. “When people see facts—when they see polluted air or water—they will start speaking out. At least they will try to fight the dust, the contamination, the neglect.” At the core of the initiative lies a demand for transparency. Decisions in Kajaran, Shavarsh says, are often made without residents’ participation. His goal is to change that. “People need to see how programs are developed and understand that their voice matters. If we succeed, they will feel that democracy works. They will see that a development program can reflect their own vision—and later they will be able to unite and raise issues even without me.” Trust among residents is already growing—something Shavarsh considers one of the initiative’s key achievements. In the coming months, a new development strategy for Kajaran and nearby villages will be drafted by residents themselves. The ultimate goal is clear: to show that Kajaran’s future does not have to depend solely on mining. “We need to demonstrate that another development model is possible,” Shavarsh concludes. “Beekeeping, fish farming, and other alternatives can exist alongside or instead of mining. Development should never rely on only one path.” Shavarsh Margaryan’s initiative is not just about ecology or economics. It is about restoring people’s belief that they can shape their own future—and that even in a mining city, new models of development can be imagined and built.