For centuries, she knelt down to collect olives, as bending over is not considered fitting for a man. She carried the fruit for processing, tended to the animals that provided their strength, kept the mills clean, and preserved the recipes. Her deep voice, robust enough to call the livestock she cared for under harsh conditions, was a testament to her upbringing in the countryside from an early age.

Such was the Montenegrin olive grower, a farmer. A woman from a village in Montenegro navigated life and survival in a society deeply shaped by struggle, steeped in the cult of masculinity, humanity, and heroism.

In this climate, as silent heroines of survival, women from Montenegrin villages across the country managed to leave their mark—practicing their olive-growing skills throughout various regions, woven into lore, tradition, oil, and resilient trees.

This is what chroniclers documented, family members shared, and women olive growers from different regions told the “Vijesti.”

Maria Markoč, director of the Bar “House of Olives” and a PhD in quality management of olive oil production, emphasized that olive oil served as the foundation of livelihood for many families and sparked commercial and industrial development across the nation, leaving an indelible imprint on the overall development of the Montenegrin coast.

“A written record addressing the phenomenon of women in agriculture, particularly in olive growing as the ‘golden branch of Montenegrin agriculture,’ is essential to honor their predecessors and assist today’s Montenegrin women in finding their place between traditionalism and modernity. Montenegro lacks a comprehensive historical narrative showcasing the importance of women in agriculture, illustrating how, across various historical contexts, they managed to alter their position and empower themselves and their communities,” said Markoč.

The labor force of women has been relentlessly exploited throughout history. Tasks including trading goods, transporting items, managing the home and family, and almost all agricultural work were conventionally performed by women. In some parts of the country, only certain tasks such as mowing meadows and plowing fields were regarded as “men’s work.”

Markoč points out that the role of housewife or head of a cooperative could not be assumed by a woman. However, resourceful women often attended cooperative meetings, where their opinions were respected.

Beyond earning a place in the community through tenacity and resilience, they brought local products to the market, creating a livelihood as well as “luxuries” for their impoverished homes.

Montenegrin women—commission agents traveling from Cetinje to Kotor several times a week—galvanized entrepreneurship by transporting various agricultural products.

“The gem of our region’s intangible cultural heritage, while not particularly known for stimulating quality olive oil production, has its roots in a time when values of humanity and solidarity triumphed over vanity and selfishness, and this stage was created thanks to women,” said Markoč.

Barrancas Grew Under the Olive Tree Canopy

The olive tree serves as a symbol of Bar, to the extent that the town is often referred to by this name. They sing praises to Rumija and organize a traditional “Olive Festival” in her honor; having an olive tree in the yard is considered a blessing.

Ksenija Miranović (1932 – 2009) hails from Bar and is one of the most renowned Montenegrin experts in olive growing. Miranović received her doctorate in the field of fruit cultivation with a focus on olive growing, contributing to significant research and discoveries in this field.

Her extensive work included establishing collection plantations in Sutomore, Šušanj, Lješkopolje, Ulcinjsko polje, among other locations. The award given by the House of Olives for best quality oil bears her name. Her legacy lives on among Barana and Baranka residents, especially olive growers, who continue to value and pass down the knowledge she imparted.

Mirjana Babić, from the company “Olivmont,” which produces various olive oil products, grew up under the olive tree, reminiscing about her experiences picking olives as a girl.

“They are a part of me. Harvesting olives may be difficult, but it brings me joy,” she shared.

Babić recalls how, in the past, olives were collected from the ground primarily by women, some earning a daily wage in a unique currency—a liter of oil.

While payment these days is per kilogram of olives harvested, women still participate in the picking process. However, she notes that it is arduous physical work, leading coastal women to often seek easier employment, resulting in a labor shortage.

“The olive growers from Bar are renowned for their ability to prepare green and black olives for consumption,” Babić remarked.

Every homemaker possesses a little secret that enhances the flavor or durability of olives.

“Women in Bar still prepare many traditional dishes with olive oil. They even made soap from olive oil in the past, a practice I have modernized,” she added.

Maria Markoč

She instilled her love for olives and olive cultivation in her children, who grew up in the countryside aiding in the olive harvest and other chores. When Babić began producing olive oil soap, her daughter Marija was only nine. She would accompany her to fairs, assisting her in packaging the soap. Later, Marija developed an interest in chemistry and biology, graduating from the Faculty of Biotechnology and contributing to the creation of new products.

Babić believes that women, including those in Bar, have sustained olive growing and the village at large. They have, in her view, been the invisible backbone of the family. Many have not had the financial means to support themselves. She has observed that an increasing number of educated women are opting to engage in olive growing. Babić asserts that success in olive cultivation requires female perseverance and patience, as olives grow slowly, and the path to those golden drops involves considerable labor.

Oil for Work and a Song for the Tree

“The simit has been eaten,” a saying particularly prevalent in Ulcinj’s olive-growing region, signifies the completion of the olive harvest and preparation for the next stage. Less affluent producers typically harvested their own olives, while wealthier individuals would lease them out.

The daily wage for olive picking was a liter of oil, generating great interest, making the selected worker feel fortunate. When the north wind would shake the last olives from the tree, the pozrnica (grape harvest) would commence. Wealthy grove owners often permitted anyone—especially low-income families—to collect the remaining, scarce olive kernels, enabling them to earn ten or more liters of oil. The pozrnica was most commonly utilized by girls from less affluent families to supplement their wedding attire.

The first pressed oil, marking the commencement of mill operations, was traditionally celebrated by “dipping simit in olive oil,” again a task performed by women as they would spread the “egg” (halva with olive oil) on the bark depressions of the olive tree (guka or hyperplasia), singing to the trees: “May you give birth to us next year,” “Mašalah,” “With berić.”

Markoč conveyed this and assessed that, because of all these efforts and the role of women, “Montenegrin olive groves have not only produced olive oil, but have also yielded exceptionally high-quality table olives and various products distinct from local practices, alongside olive oil soaps of such quality they could rival the best in the world.”

The Olive Tree “Nourished and Educated”

The economic contribution of rural women to their families has been immeasurable. They were not merely housewives but also workers, economists, lawyers, doctors, and saleswomen… They transported their products to markets in Boka Bay and Montenegro on horseback, traveling to and fro. After a long day of labor on the road, they would socialize, converse, and consult.

Vesna Djukic, director of the Olive Society “Boka,” shared with “Vijesti” that Boka features a narrow strip between the sea and mountains, necessitating the utilization of every inch of arable land. Olive trees were planted along borders, with vegetables and livestock nurtured in between.

“Land was not sold unless absolutely necessary. Despite potential failures, the olive tree supported and educated many generations, providing security in tough times,” Djukic said.

She estimates that today, women’s role in olive growing is even more pronounced, as they are involved throughout the entire process—from cultivation to processing and marketing.

“They are the driving force in agricultural activities, although they rarely own or manage land. They establish agricultural farms, start family businesses, and an increasing number are delving into olive growing as they tend to be practical, responsible, and rational,” she added.

Recipes from Grandmother to Granddaughter

Selma Haxhi from Tuzi, president of the Regional Olive Growers Association (RUM)—the first from Montenegro’s continental part—shared with “Vijesti” that olive growers in that region are noted for their patience, precision, and special connection to the land and the olive tree.

“Knowledge was shared in quiet conversations by the fireplace, passed down from hands that could recognize a ripe olive without uttering a word. We maintain traditional methods of oil processing and creating balms, soaps, and other products from olives. We take pride in our comprehensive approach—nothing is wasted; every part of the olive serves a purpose, which led to the creation of Montenegro’s first olive leaf extract, a combination of knowledge and innovation,” mentioned the director of the “Lučka” oil mill.

Olive oil has been a staple in her family for generations, used both in cooking and in making soaps and balms. Haxhi noted that she grew up surrounded by the aroma of olive oil and her grandmother’s tales about how every drop was once considered sacred.

“Although I could have pursued a different path, I felt a profound need to carry on the legacy of the women in my family. I also saw tremendous potential in revitalizing olive growing on the continental side of Montenegro, despite many believing it was not feasible,” she emphasized.

“Lučka,” recognized as the best extra virgin olive oil in Montenegro this year, is also famed for the balm created from it, according to a traditional recipe. This balm originated at a time when pharmacies were scarce, and nature served as the sole source of medicine.

“My grandmother acquired the recipe from her mother-in-law, and each generation has meticulously refined it, passing it down to one designated person. I take great pride that my grandmother selected me,” she shared.

Olive growing transcends mere agricultural activity; it embodies culture, identity, and a connection between the past and the future, she concluded, with women being its staunchest supporters.

“Odive” of Olive Knowledge

Throughout history, women have been the guardians of knowledge and practice. They understood when the fruit was ripe, how to harvest, dry, salt, and preserve it. They managed domestic processing, utilizing stone presses for oil extraction, bottling it, and storing it. Across numerous households from Bar to Boka Bay, women have been at the forefront of oil production.

Andrea Suškavčević Novović, director of the “Odiva” oil mill—widely regarded as the most awarded in the country—articulated women’s roles in Montenegrin olive growing succinctly:

“For me, the connection between women and olive trees is not coincidental. Symbolically, philosophically, and within traditional culture, the feminine principle correlates with intuition, creativity, the forging of connections and inner balance. The olive tree embodies the feminine wisdom of nature—it remains quiet and unobtrusive, yet it is resilient and potent. It does not pursue attention, yet it demands dedication,” said Šuškavčević Novović.

The name of their oil also encapsulates a feminine narrative: odiva signifies a young woman in Montenegro who departs from her parental home to bring joy to a new dwelling. This is precisely how they perceive their product, as shared with “Vijesti.”

For Šuškavčević Novović, the desire to engage in olive growing emerged from a passion for the land instilled by her parents, coupled with the need for tangible work.

“An olive grove is a vast expanse. You behold it but cannot fully grasp it. Yet, you can touch each tree, each fruit, and ultimately, the outcome is something concrete. Moreover, despite all the care lavished on the olive groves, they follow their own paths, which you cannot completely influence,” she reflected.

She perceives an inherent beauty in relinquishing control and harmonizing with nature, which serves as a healing balm for both mind and body.

She believes modern humanity has forgotten it is a product of nature and has become alienated. Her hope is to foster a reconnection.