Category: Articles

In this second article of my series, I once again chronicle what it meant to be a Tigrayan or be associated with Tigray in anyway while detained in detention centers at the height of the Tigray Genocide. Tigrinya was banned from being spoken in prison, we were extorted, denied medical treatment, and treated like slaves.

As a reminder, I was being detained in Bishoftu for six months. The prison housed multilingual Ethiopians, including speakers of Oromo, Tigrinya, Guragegna, and Amharic. However, we Tigrayans were forbidden from speaking Tigrinya. Interestingly, Tigrinya-speaking Eritreans who were arrested mistakenly as Tigrayans were allowed to speak Tigrinya to each other.

We were not only forbidden to speak our language, but also to think and organize in Tigrinya. One day, a policeman named Getachew issued a special order, forbidding us from speaking, sitting together, or organizing in Tigrinya.

The policeman said, “Are you not ashamed? Do you want to be happy here? You have exploited Ethiopia for 27 years, made the Ethiopian people fight each other, and planted the cancer of ethnicity. You are dirty! From today, anyone who speaks Tigrinya will face punitive action. You must only speak Amharic. We want one language, one people, one Ethiopia. You are not allowed to speak or think in Tigrinya.”

Alas, we were forbidden to think or speak in Tigrinya.

The troubling reality was that the police’s directives were supported by the other prisoners from different ethnic groups. If a government decision, regardless of its moral or legal standing, exacerbated the suffering of Tigrayans, the Ethiopian populace would instantly embrace and enforce it.

At that time, it seemed as though an Ethiopian’s patriotism could be measured by the intensity of their hatred for Tigrayans and the number of Tigrayans they turned over to the authorities.  

All the non-Tigrayan prisoners fervently agreed with the policemen, insisting that we cease speaking Tigrinya.

There were about ten of us Tigrayans in the district 2 prison cell. I was reading “Sophie’s Choice, a poignant tale about Sophie, a Polish-Catholic survivor of the Nazi concentration camps, and I was drawing parallels between the plight of Tigrayans and the Jewish experience.

Refraining from speaking and thinking in Tigrinya was immensely difficult. Despite the restrictions, the Tigrayans imprisoned with me, especially Tewodros and his friends, continued to speak in Tigrinya quietly. Remember Tewodros from my previous article that detailed his arrival at the prison? Tragically, the police guards took Tewodros outside, tied him to a tree, and beat him severely for speaking Tigrinya. Similarly, Yohans, a fellow detained Tigrayan, was chained to a large iron bar and beaten in front of the other prisoners for the same reason.

While erasing our identity, they equally made us partake in forced labor. Some commanders forced prisoners to the outskirts of Bishoftu to collect scrap iron from abandoned train railways. Some of the iron was piled by the railway, while other pieces had to be cut with grinders and loaded onto donkey carts.They treated us Tigrayans as slaves, not prisoners!

Seeing us as less than human, policemen and non-Tigrayan prisoners attempted to take everything from us, threatening us as they tried to extort us. In July, August, and September 2021,  the policemen and non-Tigrayan prisoners repeatedly demanded that we hand over our money in banks and any other assets we might have had. Some policemen were blunt in their extortion. 

“Tigray’s secession from Ethiopia is inevitable, and your fate in jail is precarious and dangerous. There are two scenarios: either the government seizes your property and money and leaves you empty-handed in Tigray, or the government kills you and takes your assets. In either case, the government will confiscate your assets. Why don’t you transfer your money and property to us before the government seizes them? As ordinary citizens, we could make better use of your assets than the government ever would. We’re giving you this advice because we are aware of the severe actions the Ethiopian government intends to take against Tigrayans if the Tigray Defense Forces advances toward Addis Ababa. In such a scenario, the government will undoubtedly confiscate all your belongings, leaving you with nothing.

It is in your best interest to let us have your property rather than losing it to the state. This way, at least, your assets would not go to waste, and you might even find some small favor with us in return.”

The mistreatment did not end with the extortion, they threatened our survival by denying us prisoners of our identity any medical treatment.

The withholding of any medical care from us was part and parcel of the Ethiopian government’s broader strategies as part of the Tigray Genocide. The Ethiopian government intended for Tigrayans to perish due to a lack of food and medicine. Under siege and lockdown, the people of Tigray suffered, with hundreds of thousands dying from hunger and untreated illnesses. 

I recall the vulgar words of a commander named Mustapha when I was gravely ill with typhoid and typhus while in prison.

A friend of mine sought help from the policemen as my health was deteriorating. He said, “Dear Commander, a friend of ours is seriously ill and on the verge of death. Could we please get permission to take him to the hospital?” A commander, Mustapha, abrasively retorted, Who is he? Oh, the Tigrayan junta? If he died right in front of me, I would be overjoyed. We want you damn Tigrayans to die, so let him die. We prefer to see you starve and suffer from disease rather than waste ammunition on you. Debretsion’s soldiers are busy killing innocent Ethiopians, so it’s no surprise you are dying here from lack of treatment. Asking for treatment is a crime in itself.”

Recently, I read the article “The Ethiopian Economy, Nation-Building, and the Tigray War: An Interview with Semhal M. Zenawi by Mehdi Labzaé.” The intellectual rigor within its pages reminded me of the legacy of her father, Meles Zenawi, Ethiopia’s prime minister for 21 years, who was known for his towering intellect and vision of a developmental state aimed at lifting millions out of poverty. While his leadership had its shortcomings, his commitment to Ethiopia’s progress and sovereignty was undeniable. Meles represented Africa on the global stage with distinction, earning the respect of world leaders.

In stark contrast, the current prime minister, Abiy Ahmed, has significantly diminished the stature of the premiership. It is evident from the prime minister’s various public statements that the office has effectively been reduced to little more than a department within the Addis Ababa municipality. Abiy Ahmed’s tenure has been characterized by a pattern of conceding Ethiopia’s strategic interests to foreign powers, particularly those in the Middle East, leading to a decline in his international standing and diminished respect from global counterparts. His most notable skills—deception and ruthless ambition—have weakened Ethiopia’s multinational existence and international standing and compromised its sovereignty.

Semhal provides an insightful analysis of how shifts in Ethiopia’s political economy and liberalization policies have contributed to internal polarization and the outbreak of the war on Tigray. Her perspectives reminded me of the themes explored in Daron Acemoglu and James A. Robinson’s seminal work, Why Nations Fail, and inspired me to share my thoughts on how the institutional dynamics discussed by Acemoglu and Robinson parallel the current situation in Ethiopia.

Ethiopia is undergoing a profound transformation, shifting from Meles Zenawi’s imperfect yet more inclusive developmental state model to a more extractive and fragmented system under Abiy Ahmed. This shift, as highlighted by Semhal Zenawi and framed within Acemoglu and Robinson’s Why Nations Fail, has intensified political and economic crises, exacerbated internal divisions, and undermined the country’s resilience. As long as Abiy’s extractive policies persist, Ethiopia faces escalating instability, threatening both its future and regional stability. The country’s path forward must prioritize inclusive institutions and genuine commitment to equitable development to avert further decline.

Institutional Shifts and Economic Liberalization

Semhal’s analysis highlights a critical transition in Ethiopia from a developmental state model, characterized by accelerated growth benefiting the population at large and enabling an autonomous state free from private sector influence, to a market-driven model that emphasizes private sector investment, diminishing the State’s role in economic planning. Semhal argues that the shift from agriculture to industry policy, introduced midway through the Growth and Transformation Plan I (GTP1), effectively abandoned the multinational state-building project. The GTP was an ambitious national strategy aimed at transforming Ethiopia into a middle-income country by 2025. It outlined a series of five-year development plans designed to accelerate economic growth, reduce poverty, and modernize the country’s infrastructure and key sectors. Although industrialization was part of the key objectives of the GTP, agriculture was to be prioritized as a central driver of the economy. The GTP was to be implemented through a strong, interventionist state that would guide economic development through strategic planning and state-led investments while maintaining tight control over key sectors. The state would play an active role in directing resources toward priority areas, regulating the economy, and fostering domestic industries. 

However, the shift to abandoning agricultural policies, particularly during Prime Minister Hailemariam Desalegn’s tenure (2012-2018), emphasized market-driven development and reduced the state’s role in economic planning. According to Semhal, this shift especially impacted “rurban” areas, which she defines as rural areas by definition but having urban characteristics. She posits that the shift created distributive pressures in these “rurban” areas where young people’s aspirations for adulthood were hindered by a lack of access to income and property, leading to uprisings like the Querro movement.

Furthermore, Semhal critiques Bereket Simon’s push for political plurality as a corrective measure to the developmental state by introducing proportional representation from opposition groups. While it is debatable that the groups Bereket invited lacked genuine societal legitimacy, Semhal’s critique highlights a deeper issue: the attempt to introduce political plurality in isolation from the necessary structural transformation of the economy. This separation reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of the core problem leading to Ethiopia’s unraveling—namely, the underdeveloped state and market institutions. 

Why Nations Fail posits that inclusive institutions that allow and encourage broad participation in economic activities and political processes are essential for sustained growth and stability. In contrast, extractive institutions, which concentrate power and wealth in the hands of a few, often lead to stagnation and unrest. Ethiopia’s move toward liberalization can thus be interpreted as a shift from a developmental state that at least aspired to be more inclusive to increasingly extractive institutions, exacerbating inequalities and fueling discontent among various groups. Although the model sought to create robust and inclusive institutions, it struggled to realize these goals fully. Inequality remained a persistent issue, challenging the narrative that the developmental state was truly inclusive. 

However, for a developmental state to have a chance at being inclusive, it must be led by individuals committed to the broader population and resistant to corruption, which it has in Meles Zenawi. He exemplified this commitment. Despite a lack of political plurality, which he deemed unnecessary for a developmental state, his governance under a dominant party model managed to curb extreme extraction and achieve substantial growth. After his death, this commitment waned, leading to the abandonment of policies that benefited the majority and fueling movements like the Querro uprising. The absence of political representation and public goods further contributed to Ethiopia’s economic failure, reflecting the challenges outlined in Why Nations Fail.

Even more change came with the Abiy Ahmed administration. In stark contrast to Meles’, Abiy Ahmed’s economic framework has embraced Western-led economic liberalization, marked by partnerships with international institutions like the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and World Bank, currency devaluation, and the sale of state-owned enterprises. These policies have been introduced amid severe economic challenges, including high inflation, foreign currency shortages, and a crippling debt burden. The rapid overhaul of Ethiopia’s economic policy has been accompanied by widespread economic devastation, raising concerns about escalating inequality to unprecedented levels, the loss of state control over vital sectors, and the overall sustainability of the current economic trajectory.

Centralization and Multinationalism

Semhal also discusses the tension between centralization and Ethiopia’s multinational federal structure. She argues that the centralizing tendencies observed during Hailemariam’s tenure, particularly the concentration of power in the prime minister’s office and the influence of his old Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF) advisors, often conflicted with Ethiopia’s ethnic federalism, which was intended to respect the country’s diverse nationalities. This centralization was partly driven by market-oriented policies that, rather than promoting inclusive growth, failed to deliver benefits for the broader population. As a result, policy changes under Hailemariam did not align with the needs of Ethiopia’s various nationalities, exacerbating tensions and undermining the federal system designed to ensure balanced representation and equitable development. The shift from economic populism to what she calls “right-wing populism” within the Oromo Peoples’ Democratic Organization (OPDO) occurred as these market-oriented policies failed to deliver the expected development, and the economy began to falter.

Why Nations Fail underscores that political centralization without inclusive representation can lead to exclusionary practices, fostering resentment and conflict among marginalized groups. Semhal’s perspective further emphasizes the importance of institutional clarity and organizational cohesiveness within the ruling party, the EPRDF, during Hailemariam’s era. She contends that the lack of open discussion and proper approval processes when introducing policy changes contributed to factionalism and internal power struggles, which she calls “backdoor horse-trading.”

However, this level of centralization, characterized by a dominant coalition intended to represent Ethiopia’s multiple nationalities, diverges sharply from the type of centralization critiqued in Why Nations Fail. In the book, centralization becomes problematic when it leads to extractive institutions—where power is concentrated in the hands of a few who exploit the majority, stifling innovation, limiting economic opportunities, and enforcing policies that serve narrow elite interests. Such centralization undermines inclusive institutions that foster participation, accountability and shared prosperity.

The EPRDF’s model, which sought to balance Ethiopia’s diverse ethnic groups within a single-party framework, theoretically aimed to unify different nationalities under a shared developmental agenda. However, when policy changes bypassed established processes, as Semhal suggests, this approach inadvertently sowed division rather than cohesion. Instead of creating a centralized structure that enhances collective decision-making and represents diverse interests equitably, the result was factionalism and elite bargaining, resembling the extractive institutions described in Why Nations Fail.

As noted, Meles Zenawi’s successors lacked his commitment to the developmental state model. In the aftermath of his passing, a shift toward market-driven policies seemed inevitable. However, if existing institutions were too fragile to withstand policy missteps, it raises questions about their inclusivity from the outset. This scenario points to a deeper flaw in the one-party dominant system, which failed to provide mechanisms for managing diverse ideas from multiple parties representing various national interests. A more inclusive approach, with pluralistic policy debates and adoptions, could have ensured broader representation and a more resilient governance structure.

The Abandonment of Tigray’s Social Base: A Critique of Leadership and Ideological Betrayal

Semhal’s most severe criticism is directed at the leadership of the TPLF. She argues that an elite consensus in Tigray views “politics as rent-sharing agreements among gambling elites,” leading to the abandonment of Tigray’s social base and the covert introduction of Abiy’s policies. She sees Tigray as a victim of a “rent-seeking political economy,” expanding the power of its parasitic elites. She highlights the entrenchment of Tigray’s military in an extractive economy and expresses profound disappointment in the neglect of the rural economy after the war, calling it a significant betrayal of Tigray’s rural social base.

These failures are attributed to abandoning developmental state principles that prioritized value-adding activities benefiting the rural majority. The erosion of these principles after Meles Zenawi’s death reveals that the government institutions themselves lacked the mechanisms to prevent rent-seeking and enforce accountability among leaders who failed to prioritize the majority’s interests.

The concentration of economic power in the hands of a few elites, combined with the lack of accountability and representation, mirrors the extractive political institutions discussed in Why Nations Fail. Such institutions create barriers to equitable development, stifling growth by enabling parasitic elites to thrive at the expense of broader progress. The abandonment of Zenawi’s developmental state principles suggests that without robust institutional frameworks to check corruption and enforce accountability, even well-intentioned governance can degrade into rent-seeking and factionalism, leading to national failure.

Conclusion

The current state of Ethiopia, as analyzed through Semhal Zenawi’s critique and the framework of Why Nations Fail, demonstrates a profound shift from an imperfect yet aspiring to be economically inclusive developmental state model championed by Meles Zenawi to a more extractive and fragmented system. The abandonment of inclusive policies, the rise of parasitic elites, and the entrenchment of rent-seeking behaviors have deepened Ethiopia’s political and economic crises. This shift has not only weakened the social base in regions like Tigray but has also exacerbated internal divisions, stifled growth, and eroded Ethiopia’s resilience, reducing its institutions to instruments serving Abiy Ahmed’s unpredictable ambitions.

Ultimately, Ethiopia’s experience underscores the critical importance of maintaining inclusive political and economic institutions that promote broad-based participation, accountability, and equitable development. Without these, any state—regardless of its initial intentions—risks descending into the cycle of failure described by Acemoglu and Robinson. To navigate its current challenges and secure a more prosperous future, Ethiopia must reorient its policies toward inclusivity, rebuild trust in its institutions, and foster a genuine commitment to the well-being of all its people.

However, as long as Abiy Ahmed remains in power, the extractivism highlighted by Semhal—facilitated by Middle Eastern capital throughout the Sahel—will persist, compounded by internal turmoil with civil wars erupting in multiple regions and instability driven by alliances such as those among Egypt, Eritrea, and Somalia. The international community must recognize that such leadership poses a serious threat to regional stability.

The November 2020 to November 2022 war on Tigray has been described as the worst and bloodiest war of the 21st century. There is ample proof that the atrocities committed by Ethiopia and its allied forces against Tigray and Tigrayans are a crime of genocide.

Though it isn’t enough, the unimaginable atrocities committed by the Ethiopian and Eritrean soldiers inside Tigray have been exposed and documented in various ways. I have chosen to share my story to reflect on the horrific atrocities committed by the Ethiopian government and the majority of the Ethiopian population against Tigrayans living in other parts of Ethiopia.

Measures taken by the Ethiopian government against Tigrayans living in various parts of Ethiopia outside Tigray included mass arrests, forced disappearances, torture, confiscation of properties, killings, extortion, and hate speech, among other acts of genocide.

There were hundreds of thousands of Tigrayans who were thrown into concentration camps as waves of mass arrests unfolded, and I am one of them. I was imprisoned in the same prison as the prominent politician Ledetu Ayalew. I was tortured in Bishoftu for about six months. Even years after the incident, it is important to reflect on my memories of the atrocities committed against detained Tigrayans and share what I experienced and witnessed.

Writing from a refugee camp, I am compelled to share this harrowing experience to ensure that the world does not forget the suffering endured by so many Tigrayans. The tales of inhumanity and resilience that I recount serve as a testament to the strength of those who survived and a memorial for those who did not. Through my story, I hope to shed light on the silent suffering of the Tigrayan people and the relentless oppression they faced, highlighting the need for justice and reconciliation. The first of the stories I will write in this weekly series is the story of a couple, a young Tigrayan man and a young Eritrean woman.

An Eritrean and Tigrayan couple imprisoned 

Tewodros and his friends left Addis Ababa for Bishoftu, a town about 60 km southeast of Addis Ababa, to relax a few days before the Irreecha cultural festival in September 2021. Unfortunately, before reaching their destination, they were arrested by the police and imprisoned solely for being Tigrayans.

Among the five people who traveled to Bishoftu from Addis Ababa for leisure were three young men and two young women. One of the women was an Eritrean who had come to Ethiopia from Eritrea through Adigrat after the Ethiopia-Eritrea border reopened. She was born and raised in Asmara and was a government employee.

Starting in June 2021, the Abiy Ahmed government initiated another round of mass arrests targeting Tigrayans. I was taken from my home in Bishoftu by the police on July 7, 2021, and jailed solely because of my Tigrayan identity.

Tewodros and his friends, residents of Addis Ababa, had previously been fortunate to avoid arrest. However, this period was marked by ethnic cleansing, with the Ethiopian government systematically arresting and killing Tigrayans.

The arrest of Tewodros and his friends by the brutal Oromia Command Post was particularly tragic. This unit was tasked with identifying and jailing Tigrayans. As of November 2020, most Tigrayans in Bishoftu had been imprisoned, and some were under house arrest, closely monitored by their non-Tigrayan neighbors and the general population. The Command Post ordered the screening of all passengers entering the city, and Tigrayans were arrested on sight.

During the rigorous screening, Tewodros and his friends were identified as Tigrayans and were immediately detained at the police station known as “District Two,” where other Tigrayans, including myself, were also held. Local regime supporters, who believed that mere arrests were insufficient to degrade and humiliate Tigrayans, conspired with the police and city administration. They beat Tewodros and his friends severely and took them to the commander’s interrogation office. However, the psychological and identity-damaging insults and hate speech were worse than the physical beatings. The investigators and commanders hurled dehumanizing and hateful insults, telling them that Tigrayans should not rejoice but mourn, branding them as devils, cancers, and threats to be eradicated.

The young Eritrean woman, Semhar, was friends with one of the Tigrayans. In the commander-in-chief’s office, they began questioning them and discovered Semhar’s Eritrean identity and her relationship with the Tigrayan.

One commander rebuked, “Are you not ashamed to have an Eritrean girlfriend? You should have kept your head down. Tigrayans associating with Ethiopians and Eritreans is disgraceful.” He continued with his hateful questioning, “How can you, an Eritrean, befriend and love these cursed Tigrayans? Did they deceive you? Tigray has declared its secession from Ethiopia. How could you start dating this Tigrayan? They are cannibals. Your Eritrean brothers and sisters [refugees] in Tigray are being killed, and the remaining refugees have been rescued by the Ethiopian government. Do you really love him? How long have you been together?”

Semhar, demonstrating her commitment to her friend, responded: “I love him. He is my favorite friend. He didn’t fool me.”

The commander retorted, “Shut up. If you end your relationship with him and other Tigrayans, we will release you. Otherwise, you will be arrested together. Tigray is fighting to destroy Eritrea.”

Semhar pleaded with him, “Commander, how can I stop love? Please understand me.”

In complete disregard and in a hateful fury, the commander threatened, “If you stay away from them, you will be released. Otherwise, we will inform the Eritrean government and charge you as an accomplice to these Tigrayans.”

Semhar replied, “Please, Commander, I am an Eritrean refugee. What have I done wrong?”

The commander then asked, “You went to Sawa for military training, right?”

“Yes, like every Eritrean,” Semhar confirmed.

The commander proceeded to level accusations: “You Tigrayans chose this Eritrean girl because she was trained in Sawa. Did you deceive her to carry out your evil plans?”

Defending them, Tewodros explained: “Commander, we came here for fun, not to commit any crime. We didn’t even realize it was Irreecha until now. We are innocent.”

The commander countered: “You came with luxury cars and cash, planning an act of terrorism with this Sawa-trained Eritrean girl. We have evidence and have trapped you.”

He then spoke to Semhar alone, advising and threatening her. “These Tigrayans are waging war to destroy Eritrea and Ethiopia. They are enemies. The Eritrean Embassy will be disappointed with your decision. Your only way out is to expose these Tigrayans as terrorists. Betray them, and we will ensure your safety in Addis Ababa.”

Semhar resisted, standing by Tewodros, “My boyfriend and I know nothing about politics. He loves me, and I love him. These guys are innocent, including my boyfriend, so I can’t do what you’re asking.”

The commander then declared, “So you’re a junta, too? Anyone who befriends a Tigrayan is an enemy of Ethiopia and Eritrea. You will suffer with them in prison. You’re a bandit.”

This dehumanizing ordeal occurred the night they were arrested. After the interrogation, they were taken to the detention compound.

Coincidentally, Tewodros ended up in the same cell as me. It was after midnight, and we were sleeping when the door slammed open, and they were brought in while being beaten. The notoriously anti-Tigrayan and cruel commander, Mustepha, escorted them.

When new Tigrayan prisoners arrived, everyone at the station, from the top leaders to other prisoners from other parts of Ethiopia, despised them and eagerly sought to rob them.

As Tewodros entered, the commander instructed the non-Tigrayan Ethiopian prisoners:

“This new prisoner is junta (Tigrayan). You should rob his money. Think of this as your chance to fight the junta, like on a battlefield.”

Ten days later, the Ethiopian government falsely charged Tewodros and his friends, including the Eritrean woman, and they were brought to court.

It is common for the Ethiopian government, which has openly committed genocide against Tigrayans, to charge Tigrayans with terrorism, attempting to overthrow the constitutionally elected government by force, trying to destroy the Ethiopian population, and other implausible charges.

The charges against them were read aloud, “We found them preparing to commit terrorist acts on Irreecha Day under orders from the junta.” The judge granted the police 14 more days for further investigation, and they were returned to the police station.

Advocating for himself and his friends, Tewodros pleaded: “Honorable Judge, we were arrested while on vacation. These charges are unfounded. We respectfully request to be released on bail.”

In response, the Judge said, “The police have requested 14 more days to investigate. Your bail rights will be considered at the next hearing. You are lucky to be in court; many Tigrayans have disappeared without trial. Be thankful.”

Distraught and desperate, Tewodros and his friends returned to the cell, joining us once again. We advised them to stay strong, suggesting they look for alternative ways out. We explained that the next 14 days would be challenging and urged them to remain calm.

The [Tigray war] in Ethiopia’s Tigray region, one of the bloodiest wars in recent years, left hundreds of thousands dead and over a million displaced. Goitom Mekonen, author of  Primed for DEATH, survived this devastating war. In an interview with journalist Natalie Sousa from Seznam Zprávy, a Czech news website, he recounts his memories from the worst period of his life. Here we provide a translation of the full interview. 

Can you briefly introduce yourself? Your name, where you are from, what you did and do as an occupation, a little bit of your background.

Thank you for the opportunity to speak. My name is Goitom Mekonen. I was born in Tanqua Abergele, Tembien in Tigray, the war-ravaged northernmost region of Ethiopia, into a family dedicated to serving their community. I’m a typical Tigrayan, having been raised in various parts of Tigray. I spent most of my childhood with my dad in Mandar Aurora – a small town near Dansha in Western Tigray. Prior to the war, I was a university lecturer at Adigrat University, one of Ethiopia’s public universities. Beyond the classroom, I was actively engaged within my community and channeled my free time and energy into numerous social entrepreneurial efforts. I co-founded and led TigraiCodes, an initiative to teach coding to high schoolers. I also co-founded Tigrai Hiking Group, an initiative to promote a healthy lifestyle among our youth and to explore Tigray’s breathtaking landscapes.

How was your life before the Tigray war?

My life before the war was inspiring and meaningful. I was fully occupied with bringing my ideas to life and dedicating my time and energy to initiatives that I believed were transformational. I was happy with my life overall, enjoying a romantic relationship and the support of my partner, and planning to start my own family. The years from 2019 up until the day the invaders came into Tigray and destroyed our homeland were especially significant—those were the best years I had ever experienced.

 What was it like when it [the war] started? What is your recollection of the start of the war? What do you remember, what were you doing when you realized that something bad was going to happen? 

It was back in November 2020, an ordinary month like the ones before, when my team and I were in Aksum giving training to high schoolers at Aksum University. The training was fully sponsored by the university, and we were in our third week, just one week away from completion, when the war broke out. At that time, the regional government declared a state of emergency, and it was then that we officially learned that Ethiopia had declared war on Tigray. Again. Around midnight on November 4th, everything went dark—network, banking, telecommunication, and all modes of transportation were cut off from Tigray. We had no choice but to helplessly await the horror that was coming our way. I was deeply sad, confused, and heartbroken, especially knowing there was nothing I could do to stop it.

When did you realize that you had to escape from Tigray? 

As I mentioned, I was in Aksum, Tigray, at the start of the war. As Tigray was systematically blockaded and besieged from all directions by the central government in Addis Ababa, and with the invading forces coming in from all sides, there was no way to escape. Nearly two weeks into the war, on November 19th, around 2 pm, Aksum and its neighbors were heavily and randomly bombarded by the heavy artillery of the Eritrean and Ethiopian forces. Everyone was fleeing the town to neighboring areas, and some of my colleagues even made it on foot all the way from Aksum to Mek’ele, the capital of Tigray. My family members, who were in town at that time, urged me to flee with them.

I decided to stay in Aksum because I realized that the chances of escape were quite slim, and I doubted the feasibility of survival given that we were surrounded by enemies from all directions. I told my family, “I have decided to stay in town. I came to Aksum with a mission, and I am still committed to fulfilling it.”

I stayed for two horrific months in Aksum, barely surviving the Aksum Massacre. I lost my younger brother. Also, my younger sister’s arms and legs were heavily wounded, and she was left in the town with no medical support like many Tigrayans languishing in despair. I felt powerless, desperate, consumed by the darkness of it all. Our lives were in constant horror, day in and day out. The Ethiopian and Eritrean forces were committing unimaginable atrocities that still haunt me to this day. The longer I stayed in Aksum, the more I believed I was wasting my time without contributing [to the cause] unless I joined the Tigrayan forces. So, I decided it was best to leave Aksum for Mek’ele.

On January 9, 2021, following the ENDF’s [Ethiopian National Defense Forces’] occupation of Mek’ele, I was able to travel there—regrettably without fulfilling the mission for which I had gone to Aksum. Two weeks after I arrived in Mek’ele, I shared my personal account of the Aksum Massacre with the public, which was published on Tghat.com. The response to the story was touching. So far, it has received more than 94,000 viewers. 

A couple of months after my stay in Mek’ele, I went to Addis Ababa for personal matters, planning to return to Tigray in early July 2021. I never made it back after the Tigrayan forces conquered Mek’ele and liberated most of Tigray on June 28th, as the government in Addis Ababa once again blocked all means of transportation to and from Tigray. To this day, nearly three years later, I have not returned to Tigray, having been forced to escape not only from Tigray but also from Ethiopia.

You mention that you managed to escape the massacre in Aksum. Can you elaborate on that more concretely (if not, I totally understand, no pressure at all)?

The Aksum Massacre was a massacre of civilians that took place between November 28th and 29th in Aksum by the Eritrean forces. Aksum was preparing to celebrate St. Mary’s Zion Day, an annual celebration held in the town usually on November 29th and 30th. At that time, I was staying in a hotel that the university rented for us for our training, and that’s how I witnessed it all. During the massacre, I was in the hotel, watching the murders in the street from the hotel as it was located on the main road.

One question people asked me was: how did I barely escape the massacre? My answer was this: our hotel, along with another hotel at the other corner, was one of only two not searched by soldiers during their systemic house-to-house search in the town. The reason they skipped our hotel was that its doors were made of glass, and the owner had cleared the items from the balcony before the Eritrean soldiers’ arrival in the town. It was visible from the outside, making the soldiers believe there were no people inside. They headed to the next building, which was a bank, while we were on the top floor of the hotel inside our rooms, filled with great fear, despair, and waiting our turn to be killed. 

Please describe the process of fleeing. How was it? Which route did you choose and why? 

This was the experience I really wanted to share with the public someday. To our dismay, Ethiopia wasn’t just hell for us when we were inside its territories but also when we tried to flee. My first attempt to flee the country was in early July 2021, when the Tigrayan forces were marching toward the capital and had already begun winning in many areas in the Amhara region. Tigrayans in the capital and other parts of Ethiopia were being detained en masse. With no transportation to and from Tigray at that time, my only option to escape from that calamity was to leave the country and stay in Nairobi, Dubai, or elsewhere until the war ended. Sadly, even before I could succeed in booking a ticket and fulfilling the necessary documents, the police arrested me, and I stayed in prison for 96 hours.

Once I was released, I completely abandoned the idea of leaving the country and decided to document what my fellow Tigrayans and I had been through in the capital. I stayed there for another year — it was really a tough time. My days and nights in Addis were dark and depressing. The fear that the police would come to my place at any time deprived me of my peace and sleep. I had to change locations every three months to avoid being easily recognized and catching the eyes of the police or neighbors.

On October 26, 2022, I decided to leave the country for good. Nairobi, Kampala, and Dubai were on the list as my next destinations. I had two options to travel there: either by road from Addis Ababa through Moyale to Nairobi or by airplane from Addis Ababa to Nairobi or Kampala or Dubai. I sought detailed information and advice from people I knew.

Traveling by road to Nairobi, though cheaper, posed significant risks due to the many checkpoints. With a Tigrayan name on my passport, I would be an easy target, and the chance of safely passing through was low. There were also smugglers who could facilitate this, but I didn’t feel comfortable with that option. Ultimately, I decided to travel by plane.

I arrived at Bole Airport around 6:30 am on November 27, 2022, despite my flight being scheduled for 10:30 am. I arrived early in the morning because I feared I might get in trouble, a common concern among Tigrayans for the same reason. Everything seemed fine until I reached the departure hall. There was a long queue. The clerk checked my passport and flight details and informed me that I needed to clear the immigration desk before they could pack and send my luggage to the cargo. This immediately posed potential trouble ahead.

At the immigration desk, almost everyone was granted an exit visa without any issues, except me. When it was my turn, the officer handling the cases stared at me after reading my name on the passport. Without speaking a word, he gestured for me to stay far away from him, motioning with his hands. I asked him why but received no answer despite my repeated questions. I had all the necessary documents: a renewed passport, travel histories before the war, and previous abroad study experiences. Yet, he continued to ignore me. Abruptly, he shouted at me, threatening to tear up my ticket and passport if I didn’t comply with his instructions to stay away. He called me a “traitor,” showing his anger.

Feeling frightened, I obeyed. I waited alone in a corner of the hall for about an hour, fearing my travel plans might be disrupted or worse. Suddenly, luck intervened when a security officer noticed me standing at a distance. He approached and asked about my situation. After reviewing my documents and confirming all my past travel histories, he told me, ‘You are okay to travel.’ Together, we returned to the immigration officer, who finally allowed me to proceed with the clearance.

With just 10 minutes left before the departure terminal closed, I finally received clearance and hurried towards the boarding gates to leave Ethiopia behind once and for all.

But first, could you briefly describe how you escaped from Tigray to Addis Ababa? If you could say something about it, shortly and maybe why you didn’t go back precisely.

As I said, the war on Tigray started on November 4, 2020. Almost within a month of fighting, the ENDF easily seized Mek’ele, the capital of Tigray, on November 28, 2020. The central government then began resuming transportation in all the areas it had controlled. Around the end of December, civilians were allowed to travel from Aksum to Mek’ele for the first time during the war, with many strict checkpoints along the way from Aksum through Adwa, Adigrat, and finally to Mek’ele. Most of the soldiers on the roads and at the checkpoints were Eritrean forces. 

After hearing rumors and seeing minibusses arriving in Aksum for about two weeks, I traveled to Mek’ele from Aksum on January 9, 2021. I stayed there for three months with family members. After three months, as transportation to and from Tigray to Addis Ababa – both by road and airplane was permitted, albeit with high security, I went to Addis Ababa on May 11, 2021, by airplane. After staying in Addis for a month and a couple of weeks and completing my exams at the British Embassy, it was my plan to return to Tigray.

However, the Tigrayan forces fought back, conquered Mek’ele, and liberated most of Tigray in late June. Following this, the central government blocked all roads leading to Tigray once again after losing battles. That’s why I didn’t go back to Tigray and had to seek other means for my survival.

Where did you flee exactly and did it bring a sense of relief to you? 

I came to Nairobi, Kenya, which has become my second home since I left Ethiopia. The city is peaceful and beautiful, and I feel relatively secure here. The community shows much more sympathy to us compared to my experience in Addis Ababa. In Addis, I constantly feared that the police would knock on my door any day and arrest me, especially when they found out I was writing a book. I know that Tigrayans are not safe anywhere since the war started, but I feel somewhat thankful to have fled that disgraceful country and to be able to pursue my aspirations here in Nairobi, which was very difficult while I was in Addis. I am okay now.

What are you doing now? Do you have any plans to return to Tigray?

After my life was harshly interrupted by the war, I am now dedicated to surviving and committed to telling the world about the Tigray Genocide. Currently, I am working on another project related to the war, combining my professional background with storytelling. This project aims to quantify the efforts made by our diaspora community during the war. The idea for this project was born after my memoir was published. Over the past year, I have been studying courses related to data analytics and data science from ALX Africa and other boot camp courses to complete this project. I see this as another contribution I could make towards raising awareness and supporting Tigray and its just causes.

My heart is still in Tigray, and it remains my passion. I always think about how I can contribute to my community’s rebuilding, but the political situation and overall environment back home are really discouraging right now. Returning feels like I might waste my efforts again. I had placed my trust in the government and community, along with my commitment to making a positive impact in Tigray. When the war broke out, however, I found myself lacking the safety and support I needed, which left me feeling deeply betrayed. I really suffered a lot, and I am still in the process of reinventing myself. Therefore, I haven’t decided when I will return or where I will relocate after completing my current project. But, I greatly hope that there will be a day when I can return to my passion projects in Tigray.

Can you describe – in general – why Tigray people are facing this violence in  Ethiopian society? And what are your personal experiences facing oppression by the majority?

The background for the Tigray war is really complicated, cyclical, and historical. There are incompatible ideologies, especially between the ethnicities of Amhara and Tigray in the country, on how Ethiopia should be shaped economically, culturally, and politically. And now external forces have added to it with their geopolitical interests in the country as well as the region.

Throughout history, we Tigrayans have fought for a federated Ethiopia, while the Amhara have aimed to build a “unified Ethiopia” dominated solely by their irrational and old-fashioned thinking and culture. Tigrayans, being a minority in the country, have been subjugated by the regimes in the capital and seen as the enemy of the Amharanized Ethiopia project by the majority. It was, and still is, key for them to erase us from the face of the earth so they can claim the whole of Ethiopia with no opposition. For this reason, we have endured numerous brutal atrocities, and this current genocide is no exception.

And personally, in this war, I have been subjected to widespread discrimination and harassment: I have been called “Junta,” a term the majority of Ethiopians used quite often as a pretext to target and exterminate Tigrayans. While the police were arresting me, they called me “Devil,” “Cancer,” and “His mother’s breast biter.” I was denied the opportunity to apply for jobs in the country and was interrogated unlawfully by the police, the security personnel, and their supporters whenever I tried to go outside in the capital.

What about the situation in Tigray right now? Do you have any family members? How do you stay in touch? 

The situation in Tigray is volatile, stressful, and unpredictable. We had hoped that the Pretoria Agreement would bring optimism, peace, and rebuilding to the region and its people. While the active fighting has stopped, the crisis remains largely untouched. Our people’s miseries are worsening as time passes.

All my family members are still back home. I talk to my sister and other family members over the phone or sometimes on the internet. Hearing their accounts makes you lose hope in everything that is happening in Tigray as well as in Ethiopia. They live in constant fear, unsure if another war will break out, perhaps even tomorrow morning. They told me that many young people are leaving Tigray at any cost as they are already jobless and have no hope for the future.

There is a lot of news from Tigray – people starving, violence, isolation, etc. – can you comment on that? 

It’s been a long time since I stopped following the news regularly on Tigray. I just want to focus on what I am currently doing instead. But I still hear bad news from Tigray, one way or another. Our forcibly displaced people are still suffering in the IDP centers. They are not getting enough aid or medical care, and no one is helping them return to their homes.

Even though the interim administration has made efforts to reopen schools, many children of Tigray are still not attending. This is because IDPs are residing in the schools, some areas are still under enemy occupation, and schools and other infrastructure are almost completely destroyed due to the war.

Tigrayan women and children are among those who have greatly suffered as a result of this genocide. While troops who gang-raped our innocent girls and women have not been brought to justice, these atrocities continue in some occupied parts of Tigray. Eastern Tigray, specifically Irob, and Western Tigray are still under occupation. The enemies should withdraw so our IDPs can return to their homes and the atrocities stop. Our immense suffering has lasted for years.

What do you think could help the situation?

Regrettably, I am not well equipped to answer that comprehensively. And yet, a little kindness and humanity towards Tigray and Tigrayans from the international community would help immensely. While the worst 21st-century devastation is in Tigray, sadly, the world’s entire attention is elsewhere. Freedom and justice for Tigrayans could also make a momentous difference.

And why did you decide to write a book about the whole experience?

Writing my memoir, “Primed for DEATH,” as my personal account of the Tigray Genocide, wasn’t something I purposely planned. I never intended that I would write about war or genocide. It all happened unexpectedly. As I witnessed the brutality of Ethiopians on us Tigrayans, I felt a responsibility to document at least what I had been through—from the Aksum massacre to Mek’ele, and then the unlawful mass arrests, disappearances, ethnic profiling, and other discriminations against Tigrayans in Addis Ababa. I felt compelled to do something about it. I knew it was pretty [unlikely] to survive this war, and in case I didn’t, people would still know our story. Luckily, I have survived the genocide, and I thank everyone who was part of making this project a reality. The journey was anything but easy.

What was the worst moment for you since the beginning of the war?

My worst moment in this war is still the Aksum massacre. I saw dead bodies lying in the street with my own eyes. I saw residents transporting corpses using carts to the nearby church because there were too many bodies to be carried by people. I saw Eritrean soldiers forcing a mother to jump back and forth over her only child’s corpse.

I witnessed the killing of a guy named Fitsum, who worked at the hotel where I was staying. Some units of the Eritrean soldiers wore EPRDF-era Ethiopian army uniforms to fool the residents into thinking they were from the Tigrayan forces. Suddenly, Fitsum went outside to tell them that the Eritrean soldiers had gone in the other direction. Shortly after, we heard gunfire, and Fitsum never returned. We found his body on the street next to the hotel the next morning, his blood dried on the ground and on his clothing. He was killed after being hungry for two days with no food. 

I always think about that experience. I always think about that innocent man. I wish he hadn’t gone outside, and I wish we had a chance to save his life. Just as I always think about this, my sister also comes to my mind. She was with our younger brother when the Eritrean soldiers murdered him. I wonder, if I am going through all this pain for people I met only once in my life, how is she dealing with witnessing the killing of a loved one right in front of her eyes? It is really tough to bear it all. This war has cost us a lot.

You mention that you have unpleasant memories and bad feelings about the whole experience naturally. How exactly do they pop up, and how do you deal with them?

I see my past experiences in my dreams. I get flashbacks when I am alone and have time to think about all the damage done to Tigray. Recently, I had a bad, [the] roughest dream. I was in a small village with only four or five tent houses spread out at some distance from each other. I don’t know exactly where this place is, nor have I ever been to such a place. I was standing near one of the houses when I suddenly saw an Eritrean soldier following me from behind. Immediately, I ran to another tent house and saw another soldier there as well. I ran in a different direction, but there was yet another soldier coming toward me. I realized I was surrounded by the soldiers and had no option to escape. I desperately wanted to escape, but there was no way I could. I was so angry about how I ended up in such a deadly situation and wondered why I was seeing Eritrean soldiers in a place I had never been to. The only way I could escape was to wake up from my dream. That’s when I realized I was okay and still in my bed past midnight.

I shared this with my sister and friends. They advised me that such experiences won’t disappear easily; they need time and will keep popping up in one way or another. They tell me that we are not yet fully healed, especially seeing things have gotten worse for Tigray and our people. They say it is good that I share my experience with others in writing – the best thing one could do if they really want to heal properly. Many people resonate with my experiences, and when I hear those messages, I feel okay. I feel heard. I feel I will be okay one day.

On November 4, 2020, an unexpectedly gruesome genocidal war turned Tigrayan lives into hell on earth. Tensions between Tigray’s elected regional government and the Ethiopian federal government, along with ethnically targeted measures, had been escalating since 2018. However, no one could have predicted that the federal government, with help from Eritrean forces, Amhara regional militias, and some Somali soldiers, would encircle Tigray and launch such a brutal all-around offensive. Their goal and intent was total destruction and annihilation, killing hundreds of thousands of civilians and devastating Tigray’s infrastructure. The war was launched during harvest time, compounding the suffering of the Tigrayan people and creating an immense humanitarian crisis. 

Mekelle, Tigray’s capital, is strategically, politically, and symbolically crucial, representing the administrative heart and the resilient spirit of Tigray. In late November 2020, Ethiopian and Eritrean forces captured Mekelle, a significant event declared a major victory by the federal government. Atrocity crimes across Tigray ensued. However, Tigrayan resistance persisted. Having retreated to Tigray’s mountains, Tigray’s regional fighters regrouped, and thousands joined what would become the Tigray Defense Forces (TDF). In June 2021, the TDF launched a successful counter-offensive, recapturing Mekelle after months of guerrilla warfare on the 28th of the month. The TDF taking control of the region’s capital showcased Tigray’s and the TDF’s resilience and significantly altered the conflict’s dynamics. 

This change in control of the region’s capital ushered in widespread jubilation and hope among Mekelle’s residents and Tigrayans around the world. Personal testimonies revealed a mix of relief and joy, from residents feeling a profound sense of security as familiar faces returned to shop owners witnessing the reopening of businesses and what they thought might bring a return to normalcy. Survivors expressed resilience and unity. These accounts underscored the deep connection between the TDF,  its cause, and Tigray’s population, reflecting a shared determination to restore stability and rebuild Tigray amidst a backdrop of adversity and hope for a brighter, peaceful future. 

That said, TDF’s remarkable victory led the Ethiopian government to shift its genocidal strategy. The Ethiopian government declared a unilateral ceasefire, citing humanitarian reasons; however, what ensued was a complete siege of the region and a de facto humanitarian blockade while about more than 40% of Tigray remained occupied by Eritrean troops and Amhara regional forces.

From July 2021, Tigray was completely sealed off from the rest of the world. While 91% of Tigray’s population needed emergency humanitarian aid, the Ethiopian government and its allies ensured aid did not reach the starving people of Tigray, who had just suffered through unimaginable war crimes and crimes against humanity.  In September 2022, the United Nations’ International Commission of Human Rights Experts on Ethiopia (ICHREE) determined that there were “reasonable grounds to believe that the denial and obstruction of humanitarian access to the Tigray region by the Federal government of and allied regional State governments was committed for the purpose of depriving the Tigrayan population of objects indispensable for its survival, including food and healthcare.” 

In November 2022 in Pretoria, South Africa, a Cessation of Hostilities Agreement (CoHA) was reached between the Ethiopian federal government and Tigray’s elected regional government, the Tigray People’s Liberation Front. Despite this deal signed to alleviate the immense suffering in Tigray, a drastic change in humanitarian conditions did not occur. Some aid did resume, but the humanitarian blockade largely continued, hidden under the veil of the CoHA. To this day, the humanitarian situation remains severe, as the CoHA remains largely unimplemented. Starvation continues across Tigray, while crimes against humanity ensue in parts of Tigray that remain under the brutal occupation of Amhara and Eritrean forces. Though the international community, through the African Union, helped broker the CoHA, its commitment to ensure the Ethiopian government upholds its end of the deal has been lackluster and half-hearted.  Achieving peace and stability in Tigray remains very complex, requiring sustained efforts and genuine commitment from all parties involved. 

As we mark three years since the TDF’s triumphant return to Mekelle and what was thought to be the beginning of a Tigray free of genocide, brutalization, and oppression from the Ethiopian state, we are reminded of the resilience of Tigray’s people. This is a resilience and innate strength that is required now more than ever. Thousands struggle to survive in displacement camps across the region, Tigray’s social fabric is destroyed, and much of Tigray is still occupied. The Tigray government must ensure the sacrifices of Tigray’s martyrs are not in vain. They should be reminded of what it means to be Tigrayan and fight for Tigray’s future. 

Introduction

In early 2024, ministers from various sectors in Tigray’s interim administration convened to discuss the potential resurgence of mining activities in the region. Historically, Tigray has had the highest concentration of mining activity in Ethiopia and was, before the war, the largest gold producer in Ethiopia after Oromia. The region supplied 2,600 kg of gold to the central bank annually, equivalent to $100 million in export revenue. However, gold is not Tigray’s only natural resource. The region is also rich in gemstones, copper, granite, and potentially petroleum shales, which present a source of wealth hidden in the mountains of Tigray. 

At first glance, mining extraction and natural resource exploration might seem like great business opportunities. Such activities can portray themselves as a chance for Tigray to rebuild the economy after years of genocide, destruction, and devastation. However, this is not the case. The mining industry and its companies, most located in Europe and North America, have a long history of exploiting natural resources in Africa for profit while undermining the local population, and Tigray is no different. Beneath the surface of the mining industry lies a grim reality of abuse, health hazards, and economic disparity.

Canada’s Role

Awet Weldemichael, professor of history and global development studies at Queen’s University in Canada, said that the scramble for Tigray’s natural resources has been an ongoing process ever since the 1990s. He states that “Canada is one of the leading mining countries in the world” and that international laws and regulations in mining governance are often skewed to favor Canadian interests. This has led to the current mining situation in Tigray, where Canadian companies have taken control over land with valuable minerals and natural resources. Sidney Coles, a Canadian politician and gender equity consultant, states that the mining industry’s interest in Tigray is due to recent discoveries having an estimated worth of $4 billion. Tigray, which lacks the infrastructure and the knowledge to extract the resources, has to rely on Canadian and other Western entities for extraction. 

Canadian companies such as Sun Peak Ethiopia Mining PLC, WildSky Resources, and Matrix Mining Group have all been active in Tigray. Sun Peak Metals, whose President and CEO managed a mine in Eritrea that was accused of slave labor, identified 2.8 million ounces of gold and gold-equivalent minerals in Tigray and plans future work there. Also, in January 2024, Sun Peak claimed it aims to acquire a 51% stake in Axum Metals Share Company, granting the Canadian-owned company access to more mineral sites previously owned by Tigrayan companies. These companies’ interests and power within the mining industry are growing, and their land grabs cover thousands of square kilometers. By controlling swaths of land, resources, and areas inhabited by local communities, their power over Tigray increases. This can lead to significant shifts in local economies, environmental changes, and potential socio-political conflicts over resource management and land rights.

The interest that the Canadian companies show in Tigray’s natural wealth is entirely based on profit. An anonymous source in an article for The Reporter states that “The intention of Sunpeak’s latest statement is not starting activities in Tigray but keeping Sun Peak afloat on the Canadian stock market.” According to the article, reports have indicated that the company’s shares in Canadian stocks rose following its statement of resuming its work in Tigray. Sidney Coles made a similar remark, claiming that Canada and its companies create a facade of altruistic development projects in Tigray that aim to build local capacities but ultimately serve to secure Canadian interests and access to resources, resulting in profit for the companies.

The Canadian government has played a significant role in Tigray’s mining sector, involvement which dates back years and across multiple prime ministers. The Canadian Executive Service Organization (CESO) administers projects in the region that are overseen by the Canadian government. Since 2016, Canada has spent $12 million on Ethiopia’s mining sector. This was initially approved by the Harper government and has continued under the Trudeau government. While framed as support for responsible mining governance, this funding has primarily facilitated the operations of mining companies in Tigray, and by funding and supporting these mining ventures, the Trudeau government ensures that the wealth extracted from Tigray’s resources flows back to Canada. 

Lies and complicity when faced with the Tigray Genocide

While protecting Canada’s mining interests in Ethiopia, and specifically, Tigray, the gross human rights violations taking place as part of a genocidal campaign in Tigray were ignored.  While the United States and the European Union took steps to impose sanctions and cut off assistance to Ethiopia’s government, Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau refused to take action, instead releasing statements backing Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed and hailing his “contribution to regional peace and security.” Sidney Coles criticizes Canada’s silence on war crimes in Tigray, stating that  “[Canada] may be seen to be protecting its development aid investment and the interest of Canadian mining companies with licenses to operate in the region,” at the expense of human rights and the people of Tigray.  

Canada’s participation in Ethiopia’s mining industry has ostensibly been guided by Canada’s Feminist International Assistance Policy (FIAP), a policy developed by the liberal government to integrate gender equity and empowerment of women into its foreign aid. Yet Coles asserts that “the project has fallen short of every gender equity mandate it set out for itself.” The Canadian government is portraying itself as feminist and a defender of women’s rights with their exploitation work in Tigray while encouraging a war that led to the mass rape of an estimated 120,000 women and girls in Tigray between 2020 and 2022. Additionally, the mining sector in Tigray can be violent for women, yet the Canadian government did no work or assessment on this. Canada’s government and companies are overseeing the Tigray genocide and the current suffering of its people to ceaselessly continue their extraction of resources, and due to these companies’ careless and reckless work, the general health of Tigray has deteriorated.

Profit and exploitation

As previously stated, profit from natural resources is the primary motive driving foreign corporations’ involvement in Tigray. The immense revenue generated from Tigray’s gold, copper, gemstones, and marble primarily benefits these companies while often leaving the local population with little to no economic gain. The revenue from natural resources should go to the suffering people of Tigray, not to wealthy corporations in North America, yet the presence of Western mining companies will hinder this. The companies claim to work for the development of the region and help with foreign investments as long as they are permitted to have licenses for the extractions. However, development is far from equitable and often fails to benefit the local communities meaningfully. Alden Young, Professor in African History at Drexel University, spoke to Al Jazeera about the exploitation of African resources by Western companies. He says, “The majority of private capital [of the companies] is allocated to the developed countries: Europe, North America, Japan, and then whatever small slither of capital is left is allocated to [Africa].” The notion that mining will provide vast economic growth to Tigray remains an illusion rather than a reality. Like countless others before it, Tigray is at imminent risk of falling victim to the “resource curse,” a phenomenon where resource-rich countries and regions are left with little to no control over their natural resources while companies from wealthier countries manage them.

Although a plurality of the Western corporations exploiting Tigray’s resources are Canadian, many other Western countries, such as the United States and the United Kingdom, also have mining companies working in Tigray. A direct consequence of Tigray opening up to Western companies mining on its land is that a complicated network has developed among powerful individuals within the companies. The anonymous source from the Reporter says: “Most of the companies are created intentionally with offshore accounts just to keep the mining projects in the hands of a few people. Shares of the same mining projects have been sold and resold between phony licenses for years.” This ensures that rich Western companies have power over Tigrayan resources, creating difficulties for local stakeholders in reclaiming them.

The Tigray genocide and post-conflict struggles 

The genocidal war waged on the people of Tigray halted all mining activities, and Western companies stopped their business in the region. Mass killings, weaponized sexual violence, starvation, and drought became a method of warfare for the Ethiopian government and its allies. Atrocity crimes have even continued after the November 2022 Cessation of Hostilities Agreement, and people have been suffering immensely amid a humanitarian and health crisis.  Yet, due to the greed of Western companies as they resume their extraction of Tigray’s minerals, they purposefully ignore the immense struggles of the Tigrayan people.“We are very happy that the Tigray region is again peaceful and stable,” says Greg Davis, CEO of Sun Peak, while completely overlooking the reality on the ground where nearly a third of Tigray’s land is under occupation, millions of its people are displaced and 800,000 dead. “We are looking forward to the resumption of exploration work and drill testing our high-priority copper-gold VMS targets” he continues, with complete disregard for the struggles of the local community. 

The Public and Environmental Health

A geology specialist who works at the Tigray Land and Mining Bureau emphasized the damage that these companies do to Tigray’s environment. He says that Tigray’s lack of formalized rules and regulations concerning mining, along with a lack of supervision over the mines, pose a serious risk to local communities’ general health and environmental health more broadly. He states that the utilization of chemicals, such as mercury, poses a threat to miners and local communities. Around the area of Lega Dembi in the Oromia region, gold mines have contaminated the drinking water with the same chemicals currently used by the mining industry in Tigray.  Lega Dembi has the highest rate of birth defects in Ethiopia, proving that the effect that these unsupervised mines have on the local population can be severely damaging. 

Fiseha Meresa, Director of Licensing and Administration at the Tigray Land and Mining Bureau, highlights additional environmental concerns such as water and soil erosion. Reports even show that due to the power that these companies yield, communities and people in Tigray risk being displaced by land expropriation for mining roads, power lines, and new rail beds that all serve the mining companies’ interests. With millions of Tigrayans already displaced, these actions exacerbate the humanitarian crisis and further disrupt the social fabric. The weak regulations are seen as a golden opportunity for these companies to exploit Tigray’s resources as they can with as little concern as possible for Tigrayans.

The spokesperson from Global Affairs in Canada stated that the government is working to support responsible natural resource management that works to respect human rights, the environment, and local communities. However, Jamie Kneen, Co-Manager at MiningWatch, who oversees the work mining companies do around the world, states that there is an “astonishing cynicism of the Canadian government to go out and promote mining investment and mining governance initiatives, as they do in many parts of the world, knowing what they’re doing is facilitating social disruption and environmental disruption.” This remark underscores that the actual negative impact on the ground does not reflect the promise of their written policies.

Reactions to Growing External Mining Interests

Within Tigray, there have been strong reactions regarding the activities of mining companies. Local communities have expressed growing concerns and frustration over the mining operations and their lack of benefits from the resources. District authorities have reported that these confrontations often result in violent disputes, prompting police investigations. There have been “heightened tensions between investors and the local community, particularly unemployed youth.” A new study reported by Addis Standard highlights that over 81% of Tigray’s youth suffer from unemployment, making the resolution of these issues unlikely in the near future. 

However, protests against the exploitation by these companies are not limited to the local communities but also include significant activism from the Tigrayan diaspora. Tigray’s expatriate community has organized numerous protests in cities around the world, drawing attention to the environmental degradation and economic injustice faced by their struggling homeland. These demonstrations have been instrumental in raising international awareness of the issues.

Despite the reactions, the interim regional administration of Tigray has not addressed their people’s concerns. They continue to issue licenses to the companies, and the lack of regulations contributes to the ongoing problems. Various Tigrayan politicians are part of a complex network between powerful individuals in these companies. The Reporter states that TPLF officials are included in a “complicated web of share transfers” where the officials receive leverage from the companies in exchange for ensuring their presence in Tigray. Their complicity and lack of meaningful action to protect the local population’s interest are alarming, making the resolution of these issues seem difficult. 

Conclusion 

The presence of Western mining companies in Tigray epitomizes a troubling pattern of foreign intervention and economic disparity, benefiting no actor other than the foreign corporations themselves. While the wealth in minerals and other natural resources could potentially aid in Tigray’s recovery and development, the current approach benefits foreign corporations at the expense of the local population. Without stringent oversight, genuine environmental protections, and a fair distribution of wealth, the promise of prosperity from Tigray’s natural resources will remain an elusive dream for its people. Only through significant reforms and equitable management can Tigray avoid the “resource curse” and hope to truly benefit from its natural wealth.

I was lying in bed recovering from a brief bout of COVID when my phone loudly dinged in the early hours of the morning.

“Check the news,” my mother texted.

Fearing yet another story of unrestrained terror on Tigray, I frantically went to my Twitter page. My feed was filled with sprawling, angry black letters that read, “Israel attacked.” I watched in despair as Hamas swept into Israel on paragliders. Cognizant of the countless Palestinian lives that had been victim to an oppressive apartheid Israeli state, my heart broke for the innocent Israeli civilians whose lives were prematurely snatched away by Hamas. But my heart also broke that day for the Palestinian people because I knew what would ensue: Israel launching a ruthless military campaign in the Gaza Strip. The Palestinian’s fate was sealed for the coming months and even years; I had no doubt there would be severe casualties, but never did I anticipate what would transpire in the following months after the attack.

Shortly after the surprise incursion from Hamas, Israel announced their unwavering determination to root out every last member of Hamas from Gaza. Israel’s Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu made premonitory statements, declaring that the retaliatory air strikes from the Israeli Defense Forces “was only the beginning.” Undeterred by backlash from neighboring Middle Eastern countries and humanitarian organizations around the world, Netayanyu doubled down on his efforts, declaring that Palestinians had 24 hours to evacuate to the Southern tip of the Gaza Strip. 

These vitriolic calls for vengeance, characterized by hate speech and dehumanization, struck a deeply traumatic chord within me. I have been all too well-acquainted with the faces of evil. They come in all shapes and sizes, yet simultaneously merge into an indistinguishable mob that speaks in one voice, fixed in their resolve to corrode the hearts and minds of people and spread hate speech.

As Tigrayans, we are well-practiced in recognizing dog-whistle rhetoric and fear-mongering tactics of those who have made it their mission to deny the genocide. With the recent onslaught in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli government has lauded itself as weeding out terrorists despite their indiscriminate aerial attacks on innocent civilians. Conflating criticism of the Israeli government and Zionist ideals with antisemitism has been used to circumvent the shifting narrative by political pundits like Ben Shapiro. In the past few weeks those who have ardently called for protecting the fundamental human rights of the Palestinian people have been assigned unforgiving labels of ‘terrorist’ with troubling speed. This phenomenon bears striking resemblance to the Ethiopian government’s efforts to designate anyone who advocated for Tigray as a ‘TPLF terrorist’ or ‘junta.’

Fast-forward almost seven months into the conflict–which many experts have labeled as genocide–the death toll has reached 35,000. Despite the International Court of Justice trial, spearheaded by the South African government, Israel has ignored calls for a ceasefire, sending an endless barrage of missiles into the 25-mile strip of land, resulting in even more deaths. In their case against Israel, the South African government has cited that “entire generations [of Palestinians] have been wiped out.”

Israel’s Human Rights Record

One only has to look at Israel’s human rights record since its inception to reach the incontestable conclusion that it was only a matter of time before their crimes against Palestinians would be brought to the world stage. The creation of Israel in 1948 was quickly followed by the Nakba, during which 700,000 Palestinians were violently dispossessed of their land—an event still fresh in the collective memory of both young and old. The Nakba marked the beginning of seventy years of state-sanctioned apartheid that has been largely defined by illegal Israeli settlements in the West Bank, imprisonment of thousands of Palestinians without due process, and scores of bloody massacres carried out by the Israel Defense Forces (IDF). The gradual encroachment of Palestinian land by Israeli citizens is analogous to the continued occupation of Eritrean and Amhara forces in Western Tigray and Tigrayan lands bordering Eritrea. 

It is no secret that Israel has aroused the hostility of not only Palestine but numerous countries around the world. Just last year Israel was sending armaments to back the Azerbaijani government in recapturing Nagorno-Karabakh, resulting in an ethnic cleansing campaign of Armenians in the region–not to mention Israel’s role in supplying drones to the Ethiopian government led by Abiy Ahmed, utterly devastating the Tigray region. The duplicity of the Israeli government does not end there, but extends to the treatment of their citizens–namely Mizrahi and Ethiopian Jews who have faced decades-long systematic discrimination. Israel has worked tirelessly to conceal their involvement in cases like the Yemenite Children Affair and the forced sterilization of Ethiopian women. Since October 2023, the Israeli government has killed approximately 35,000 people, 14,000 of them children, and has razed Gaza to the ground, causing mass displacement of Palestinians as they try to salvage what is left of their homes and communities. Israel has employed the same tactics used by the Ethiopian government during the Tigray genocide, such as imposing a telecommunication blackout and a humanitarian blockade, both governments vehemently denying their role in enacting genocide.

The atrocities inflicted on Tigray by the Ethiopian and Eritrean governments in the last four years have provided me with unshakeable clarity that there is no middle ground when it comes to genocide. The vapid remarks of senior US officials, such as Secretary of State Anthony Blinken, on Gaza carry the same tenor as those made for Tigray. Both Tigray and Palestine are historical underdogs who have always managed to resist occupation and regimes that have threatened their autonomy but always at a great cost.

It Takes a Country to Commit Genocide

Who is responsible for genocide? This question has persisted throughout history and has flummoxed academics, politicians, and average-day citizens alike in search of concrete answers. Nazi Germany is often utilized as a case study in pursuit of this question. Although the Nuremberg Trials did not adequately punish all Nazis involved in the Holocaust, in modern discourse, this event is cited as an exemplary model of what should happen to prominent enactors of genocide. But aside from the powerful leaders, what about the paper pushers who were simply following orders or the patriotic citizens who attended numerous rallies? Where do they fall on the barometer of responsibility?

Historical narratives have a propensity to hyperfocus on leaders who are responsible for mass atrocities. This paints a portrait of infamous despots like Hitler, Stalin, and Pol Pot operating on their own initiatives. However, this could be further from the truth and detracts from broader systemic and structural issues at play. Genocides don’t just happen. Hitler had a visceral hatred towards Jews, but antisemitism had been an undercurrent of European society for centuries. Genocides require cunning, meticulous planning, and above all, an eager populace willing to carry out their leader’s demands.

Videos and images from both Tigray and the Gaza Strip reveal the dark truth of soldierly conduct: it seldom exists in times of war. Some examples include footage of an Ethiopian IDF soldier performing eskista (a traditional Ethiopian dance) in a demolished home, a gleeful smile etched on his face as he overlooks the ruins his government caused. A clip of IDF soldiers rummaging through lingerie accompanied by raucous laughter in an abandoned home was also uploaded to different social media platforms. Another video shows Israelis jumping on trucks carrying humanitarian aid in a frenzied attempt to obstruct food supplies from going into the Gaza Strip. Similarly, numerous videos from Tigray came to light on social media, though some long after the fact due to the telecommunications blackout, of atrocity crimes committed against Tigrayans–including footage of soldiers massacring Tigrayan civilians and throwing them off a cliff. Tigrayans also watched in horror as Ethiopian soldiers released footage of burning a Tigrayan man alive, proclaiming that his flesh should be eaten with injera. For decades, both Israelis and Ethiopians have engaged in various methods of popular justice. The key difference today is the widespread viewership of these often brutal acts through social media, amplifying the sheer depravity that has overtaken both countries.

Abiy Ahmed, Isaias Afwerki, and Benjamin Netanyahu may join the ranks of historical villains; however, let us never forget the people’s complicity.

Hopeful for the Future

The political discourse surrounding Israel has reached a critical juncture. Though it should not have taken this level of death and destruction, the world has finally come to the dawning clarity that Israel wields its position as a superpower to continually violate the basic human rights of the Palestinian people. Albeit pro-Israel interest groups pushing false accounts of what is occurring on the ground, more and more prominent figures in politics have begun to question the legitimacy of the Israeli government’s claims to eradicate Hamas. The argument that criticism directed against the Israeli government is equivalent to antisemitism has driven away even the most ardent supporters of Israel. As the IDF encroaches upon Rafah, global outcry has only increased, a testament to Israel’s rapidly deteriorating reputation. Beneath the thin veneer of supposed moral authority, Israel has exposed itself for what it truly is: a colonial power resolute in disenfranchising Palestinians. The genocides in the Gaza Strip and Tigray have proven that the phrase “Never Again” has become a meaningless platitude, and it does not apply to beleaguered groups still under the foot of settler colonialism and imperialism. Tigrayans and Palestinians are bound by their mutual desire for self-determination and freedom, united in their struggle against oppression. 

Amid Israel’s brutal seizure of Gaza, Palestinians have displayed exceptional fortitude, mirroring the steadfastness shown by Tigrayans during the height of the genocide in 2021. We are intimately acquainted with the keening wails of mothers cradling their lifeless children and the anguish of waking to the news of yet another loved one lost to senseless violence. Above all, we understand that while the oppressor may strip away our families, homes, and even our lives, they can never extinguish the flame of hope within us.

Introduction 

May 28, 2024, also known as Ginbot 20, marks the 33rd anniversary of the fall of the Derg regime. Marking a pivotal moment in Ethiopian history, in May 1991, the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF), a coalition of various Ethiopian liberation fronts, defeated the Derg army and took control of the capital Addis Ababa. The day symbolizes the triumph of the people over the oppressive Derg military dictatorship led by Mengistu Haile Mariam that ruled Ethiopia with an iron fist for 17 years. The overthrow of the Derg led to the establishment of a new government that promised democratic reforms and national reconstruction.

The commemoration of Ginbot 20 serves as a reminder of the sacrifices made by countless Tigrayans and other Ethiopians in their struggle for freedom and justice. It is a day to honor those who lost their lives and to reflect on the progress made since the regime’s downfall. For many, it also serves as a call to remain vigilant in safeguarding the freedoms and rights that were hard-won through decades of struggle. 

Though freedoms and human rights were violated under the EPRDF leadership as it moved away from its founding principles, the lessons learned from the state violence perpetrated by the Derg have been lost completely under the Abiy Ahmed administration. Since April 2018, the country has been once again ruled by an authoritarian leader who centralized power and is waging war in multiple regions of the country, among which has been a genocidal war on Tigray. Therefore, this Ginbot 20 commemoration is as important as ever in reminding us what it is that Ethiopia’s nations, nationalities, and peoples have long fought for and points to the need to establish inclusive, robust, and resilient governance systems. 

What the struggle that preceded Ginbot 20 was about 

The liberation fronts that constituted the EPRDF were united in their struggle against the Derg’s totalitarian and brutal rule, which caused the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people across Ethiopia. The Derg era was characterized by numerous atrocities, including the Red Terror (1976-1978), a violent campaign of terror unleashed against the Derg’s political opponents, most notably the members of the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Party (EPRP). Tens of thousands of people were killed during the Red Terror, most of them the country’s youth and intelligentsia, often in gruesome and public ways. Additionally, the Derg instituted a policy of resettlement and villagization that forcefully displaced thousands of people from their homes. Human suffering grew worse in the 1980s when a devastating famine struck northern Ethiopia, especially the Tigray and Amhara regions. This famine was not only caused by drought and failed harvests but precipitated by the Derg’s mismanagement of the economy and its policies that prevented aid from reaching those affected by the famine. In the wake of this famine, an estimated one million people died. 

The Derg’s failed policies, authoritarianism, and brutality towards political dissidents fuelled mass mobilization of various nationally based nascent liberation fronts, including the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF),  and especially the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) and the various Eritrean fronts, such as the Eritrean Liberation Front (ELF) and Eritrean People’s Liberation Front (EPLF). These groups took up arms to fight against the Derg’s tyrannical rule and bring about national liberation for the various groups in the Ethiopian state. Throughout the 1970s and even more so in the 1980s, the various liberation fronts, and especially the TPLF fought numerous fierce battles against Derg forces, registering important victories. 

Main battles and establishment of a transitional government  

The fall of the Derg in 1991 was marked by a series of strategic battles and events that culminated in the takeover of Addis Ababa and the establishment of a transitional government.

The strategic battles that ultimately led to the fall of the Derg included the Battle of Shire in 1989, where the TPLF decisively defeated government forces, and the Battle of Afabet in 1988, where the EPLF dealt a significant blow to government troops. These battles weakened the Derg’s hold on power and paved the way for further advances by opposition forces.

In 1991, as opposition forces closed in on Addis Ababa, the Derg’s grip on power began to slip. On May 28, 1991, opposition forces, including the TPLF as part of EPRDF, entered the capital, marking the end of the Derg’s rule. Mengistu Haile Mariam fled the country, and a transitional government was established, led by Meles Zenawi, the leader of the TPLF.

The takeover of Addis Ababa and the establishment of the transitional government marked a turning point in Ethiopian history. In July 1991, the Transitional Charter was officially adopted. This transitional charter introduced a series of political and economic reforms. The Charter established 14 administrative regions based on ethnic, language, and settlement patterns in Ethiopia (which was later revised to 11). This Charter stipulated the rights of nations and nationalities to self-determination, a principle that is echoed in the 1995 EPRDF constitution. Similarly, the EPRDF coalition also passed important economic reforms upon seizing power, among them limited liberalization of the Ethiopian economy. While under the Derg regime, peasants were forced to sell their produce to a state agency at a set price, following the 1991 Charter, they were allowed to sell their products on the market. These governance and economic reforms laid the foundation for the modern Ethiopian state and set the stage for the country’s transition to a more decentralized and inclusive system of government. 

The place of Ginbot 20  in Tigrayan history

Ginbot 20 holds a special place in Tigrayan history for several different reasons. First, and most importantly, it marked the end of the Derg’s brutal reign. This reign was characterized by countless atrocities against various peoples across the country but was especially bloody in Tigray, where the Derg targeted civilians in its attempt to stifle the people’s resistance. In particular, the latter years of the Derg reign brought death and destruction to many parts of Tigray, as the civilian populations suffered the brunt of the regime’s military activities. Ginbot 20, and the overthrow of the Derg government, brought an immediate end to these atrocities, freeing the people of Tigray and of Ethiopia more broadly. Especially among those who lived through the Derg years, saw and experienced its atrocities, or were forced to flee Tigray, Gibot 20 signaled the end of immense suffering. 

Another reason Ginbot 20 occupies a special place in Tigrayan history is because of the indispensable role that Tigrayan fighters played in toppling the Derg government. The Tigrayan resistance, and in particular, the TPLF, played the most important role in leading and directing the military missions that undermined and eventually defeated Derg, culminating in the takeover of Addis Ababa in May 1991. Tigrayan fighters, families, and communities paid the highest cost in these missions, sacrificing everything to ensure liberation for themselves and other oppressed nations in Ethiopia. Estimates are that between 67,000 and 70,000 TPLF fighters made the ultimate sacrifice. Making alliances with other armed groups under the auspices of the EPRDF, Tigrayan fighters led the charge in removing the Derg from the Ethiopian political arena. In so doing, Tigrayans were continuing their long tradition of resistance to subjugation that has characterized their history. Just as Tigrayans rose up in arms to resist imperial subjugation and oppression during the First Woyane uprising in 1943, another generation of Tigrayan fighters arose to fight the Derg’s military dictatorship, culminating in Ginbot 20. 

Finally, as highlighted above, Ginbot 20 ushered in a new era in Ethiopian politics, one in which the rights of the various nations and nationalities living in the country were written into law. For the first time in the country’s history, the rights of nations and nationalities to full self-administration were formally articulated. While the implementation of this system has faced significant challenges, the protection of nations and nationalities’ right to self-determination was a hard-won victory for Tigrayans and other nations within Ethiopia. In all, Tigrayans celebrate Ginbot 20 not only to commemorate the removal of a brutal regime but also to remember the immense sacrifices of those who fought against an oppressive regime and sought to establish a freer, more open, and more inclusive future for Ethiopia.

Ginbot 20 and the Tigray Genocide 

Tigray bore the brunt of the Derg regime’s violence and death outside of Addis Ababa, given the threat the TPLF posed to the regime. In fact, specifically referencing the TPLF and Tigray, Mengistu once said, “’To kill the fish, drain the pond.”  Therefore, as the genocidal war on Tigray erupted after Tigray was invaded on November 4, 2020, parallels began to emerge between the rhetoric of the Derg era and the hate speech and atrocities that were unleashed on Tigray after 2020, though the latter was on a much larger scale and a more systematic manner. The atrocity crimes committed by Ethiopian, Eritrean, and Amhara forces during the genocidal war – which included massacres, weaponized sexual violence, famine, and wholesale destruction – were reminiscent of the Derg era when such tactics were employed by the Derg, the most notable mass atrocities being the Hawzien and Abi Adi massacres. Moreover,  the ethnic profiling and targeting of Tigrayans in all parts of Ethiopia echoed the ethnic profiling campaign of the Derg era. 

Unfortunately, the lessons learned from this very violent period of Ethiopian history, in which 10,000-20,000  young people were killed during the Red Terror and hundreds of thousands were killed by weaponized starvation, were not well enough documented and incorporated into the country’s political and social fabric. The pain and trauma of that era faded with a generation lost to death and displacement. As the genocidal war on Tigray raged on, the Abiy administration and his allies unleashed countless atrocities with public support, some of which included people who yearned for Ethiopia to return to the “glory days” of the Derg and even imperial Ethiopia. Ethiopia’s population is a very young one, of which 40% is under the age of 15 and 67% is under 65. Without documentation and efforts to embed lessons learned in the group psyche, such atrocities are bound to repeat themselves. Unfortunately, this has been the case in Abiy Ahmed’s Ethiopia. Emblematic of the disconnect between Ethiopia’s generation and the degradation of what the Derg era meant for Ethiopians was the shattered glass of the Red Terror’s Martyr Museum in Addis Ababa, destroyed amidst police clashes in May 2022.  

Connections to Ethiopia’s history and memorialization of mass atrocities are important pieces of the puzzle to ensure long-term peace and stability, as is justice and accountability for crimes committed, which has largely remained elusive for the victims of the Derg as Mengistu remains free in Zimbabwe. Therefore, as we commemorate this Ginbot 20 in 2024, we honor and remember all those martyred in a struggle for freedom and against oppression, whether that be during the Derg era or today, as Tigray continues to face a silent genocide and human rights abuses take place across the country. As we remember what Ginbot 20 signifies, it is a time of hope for peace and freedom from oppression for all of Ethiopia’s nations and nationalities.  

Introduction:

Nestled within the intricate fabric of the Eritrea-Ethiopia conflict are the Tigrayan Irob  community, whose historical presence and cultural heritage are deeply intertwined with the landscapes of the Tigray region. Despite their enduring resilience and contributions to the region, these indigenous peoples have often been marginalized and sidelined in discussions of peace and stability. The signing of the Algiers Agreement in 2000, heralded as a watershed moment in resolving the 1998 to 2000 Ethio-Eritrean Border War, was expected to bring an end to decades of hostility and usher in a new era of peace. However, for Tigray’s indigenous minorities, especially the Irob, the promises of peace and security have remained elusive, overshadowed by ongoing insecurity, displacement, and marginalization. This article seeks to delve deeper into the experiences, perspectives, and aspirations of the Irob in the aftermath of the Algiers Agreement, shedding light on the systemic challenges they continue to face. 

Historical Context:

To understand the significance of the Algiers Agreement from the perspective of the Tigrayan Irob, one must delve into the historical tapestry that has shaped their existence. For centuries, these indigenous peoples have inhabited the rugged landscapes of Tigray, their lives intertwined with the land, their culture, and their rich history of resilience in the face of adversity. For example, the Irob were a part of the resistance against the Italian colonizers in the late 1800s, utilizing their mountainous landscapes to fend off the invaders.

However, their presence in the region has been fraught with challenges, as geopolitical forces have redrawn boundaries, asserted control, and imposed external narratives that often overlook or disregard their rights and aspirations. Despite their deep roots in the region, their voices have too often been silenced in discussions of peace and conflict resolution.

Analysis of the Algiers Agreement:

1. Disregard for Indigenous Rights:

The 2000 Algiers Agreement, negotiated primarily by the governments of Eritrea and Ethiopia, paid scant regard to the rights and interests of indigenous peoples like the Irob. While discussions centered on political boundaries and territorial disputes, the voices of these marginalized communities were conspicuously absent from the negotiating table. As a result, the agreement failed to address the unique challenges and aspirations of indigenous peoples, perpetuating a cycle of marginalization and erasure. The failure to recognize the distinct identities and rights of the Irob within the framework of the Algiers Agreement further entrenched their marginalization, denying them the opportunity to shape their own destinies and participate meaningfully in the peace process. While the Eritrean occupation of about 60% of Irob continues today as part of the genocidal war on Tigray, the Irob continue to be marginalized as the 2022 Pretoria Agreement, which stipulates the withdrawal of all non-federal Ethiopian forces from Tigray, is still not implemented as intended, and the occupation of Irob is often left out of the broader discussion on peace. 

2. Continued Border Disputes and Insecurity:

Despite the delineation of borders outlined in the Algiers Agreement, the Irob continue to grapple with insecurity, displacement, and the specter of violence having not yet recovered from the border war when Ethiopia and Eritrea launched their genocidal war on Tigray in November 2020. Border disputes, fueled by competing claims over territory and resources, have persisted, exacerbating tensions and perpetuating a cycle of fear and uncertainty. The arbitrary delimitation of borders, devoid of meaningful consultation with affected communities, has only served to deepen divisions and sow the seeds of future conflict. The lack of recognition of the historical and cultural significance of the borderlands to the Irob has further exacerbated tensions, as their traditional livelihoods and access to resources are threatened by the imposition of external boundaries. The Irob have long maintained that the division of Irob land into two countries as stipulated per the Algiers Agreement poses an existential threat. 

Most recently, at the end of April 2024, Eritrea once again reiterated that the lands it occupies in Tigray were awarded to it as part of the Algiers Agreement and subsequent 2002 UN Border Commission. However, the Tigrayan land Eritrea currently brutally occupies goes beyond what was awarded to it, almost double the area. The extent of the occupation makes the forceful annexation of all the land Eritrea occupies illegal and against the spirit of the Algiers Agreement–which neither Eritrean or Ethiopia have ever practically implemented on the ground. The Eritrean government with the support of the Ethiopian federal government has weaponized the Algiers Agreement to enact its next phase in dismantling the Tigrayan region and its identity, including that of its minorities.   

3. Human Rights Violations and Displacement:

The legacy of the 1998 to 2000 Eritrea-Ethiopia Border War and the Algiers Agreement’s failure to address its underlying causes have had dire consequences for the Irob. 

During the 1998 to 2000 Ethio-Eritrean border conflict, a tragic chapter unfolded. The invasion of Irob land resulted in severe human rights abuses that were largely overlooked by the media at the time. Reports from journalists like Mimi Sebhatu and accounts from Irob communities detail atrocities committed by Eritrean armed forces, including forced citizenship, expulsion from homes, imprisonment, harassment, beatings, killings, rape, and looting of churches and properties. Civilians, including the elderly, disabled, women, and children, were subjected to harsh conditions without shelter or food, while their properties and livelihoods were destroyed. The systematic erasure of Irob culture and resources, including landmines placed in villages, further exacerbated the suffering and made resettlement difficult. The lack of accountability for past atrocities and the absence of mechanisms for redress have compounded the suffering of the Irob, leaving them vulnerable to further exploitation and abuse. The risk of further crimes became a reality as the genocidal war on Tigray was initiated and Eritrea accompanied by Ethiopia once again implemented similar tactics on a larger scale throughout the Tigray region.

Consequent to the genocidal war since November 2000, human rights violations, including arbitrary detention, forced conscription, and land confiscation, have been perpetrated against indigenous peoples with impunity. Many have been forcibly displaced from their ancestral lands, their livelihoods destroyed, and their cultural heritage threatened by the ravages of war and displacement. As it stands today, most of Irob’s population is displaced and violations continue after the signing of the 2022 Cessation of Hostilities Agreement. 

In April 2024, a disturbing video clip emerged from the violently occupied Irob district offering a glimpse into the plight of the indigenous Irob minority population, who find themselves forcibly subjected to a false Eritrean identity. The regime’s systematic denial of aid and essential services, coupled with coercive measures aimed at enforcing compliance with Eritrea’s compulsory national military service, constitutes a grave violation of human rights and international law. The scenes captured in the video, depicting the dire conditions within the Alakalo locality of the Masi-Dage area, serve as a stark reminder of the urgent need for international intervention and accountability. It is imperative that the international community stand in solidarity with the oppressed and work tirelessly to ensure that justice is served and the rights of all individuals, regardless of ethnicity or nationality, are upheld and protected.

4. Lack of Reconciliation and Healing:

Perhaps the most profound impact of the Algiers Agreement has been its failure to engender reconciliation and healing in the hearts and minds of the Irob. The wounds of war run deep, tearing apart the social fabric and eroding trust between neighbors. Without meaningful dialogue, truth-telling, and justice, the path to reconciliation remains elusive, perpetuating cycles of resentment and division that undermine efforts to build a more inclusive and peaceful future. The lack of acknowledgment of past injustices and the absence of efforts to promote healing and reconciliation have hindered efforts to build trust and foster social cohesion within and between communities.

Implications for Sustainable Peace:

For the Irob and other indigenous communities like the Kunama, sustainable peace in the Horn of Africa can only be achieved through the recognition of their rights, meaningful inclusion in decision-making processes, and the addressing of historical grievances. The Algiers Agreement, with its top-down approach and neglect of indigenous voices, represents a missed opportunity for genuine peace. Moving forward, any meaningful peace efforts, including today’s efforts to completely end the genocidal war on Tigray, must prioritize the participation of affected communities, promote dialogue and reconciliation, and address the root causes of conflict to forge a path towards a more just and equitable future for all. The inclusion of the Irob and other border communities, including the Kunama, in peacebuilding and reconciliation processes is essential to addressing the underlying drivers of conflict and building a sustainable peace that respects the rights and aspirations of all.

Conclusion:

As we reflect on the legacy of the Algiers Agreement, it is imperative that we center the voices and experiences of indigenous peoples like the Irob in our collective efforts to build a more peaceful and inclusive Horn of Africa. Their resilience, wisdom, and aspirations for justice offer invaluable insights into the complexities of conflict and the possibilities for peace. By amplifying their voices, acknowledging their rights, and working in genuine partnership with indigenous communities, we can chart a course towards a future where peace, dignity, and equality prevail for all. Only through genuine dialogue, reconciliation, and respect for diversity can we hope to build a more just and sustainable peace in the Horn of Africa—one that honors the rights and aspirations of all its peoples, including the Tigrayan Irob and Kunama communities.

A Crossroads of Aspiration and Uncertainty

The Tigray region has been ravaged by a genocidal war since November 2020, uprooting about two million people from their homes and leaving them displaced within and outside the region within Ethiopia and in neighboring countries. According to a December 2023 United Nations report, nearly a million people in Tigray remain internally displaced. This humanitarian crisis demands urgent solutions as Tigrayans continue to be displaced from occupied areas. One promising path towards mitigating these circumstances lies in the Kampala Convention, a treaty designed to protect the rights of internally displaced persons (IDPs) across Africa. By adhering to the principles enshrined in this convention, the Ethiopian Federal government, in collaboration with Tigray’s Interim Administration, can begin the long road to healing and ensure the safety and well-being of citizens.

The Kampala Convention

The Convention for the Protection and Assistance of Internally Displaced Persons in Africa, also known as the Kampala Convention offers a vital framework for safeguarding the rights of IDPs. Adopted by the African Union in 2009, this treaty compels member states to prioritise preventative measures to curb displacement while also mandating signatory states to both protect IDPs and provide them with essential assistance.

Ethiopia ratified the Kampala Convention in 2020. However, implementation is lacking, particularly in the genocide-torn Tigray region. The ongoing genocide has displaced millions of Tigrayans within Ethiopia’s borders, highlighting the urgent need to translate the principles enshrined in the Kampala Convention into concrete action on the ground.

Security, Justice, and the Long Road to Peace in Tigray

The brutal genocide in Tigray, tragically exposes the critical need for a multifaceted approach to achieving lasting peace. While immediate security measures are essential to quell the violence, true stability requires a foundation built on justice and addressing the root causes that ignited the flames of genocide.

The Kampala Convention on the Protection and Assistance of Internally Displaced Persons provides a valuable roadmap for navigating this complex situation. This international treaty mandates action on multiple fronts, all essential for restoring security, preventing future displacement, and the safe return of IDPs. 

Return of IDPs

The Convention compels states to confront the root causes of displacement. In the case of Tigray, this necessitates tackling issues like the forceful and illegal occupation of Tigrayan territories by Amhara and Eritrean forces, and the accompanying human rights violations, crimes against humanity, ethnic cleansing, and genocide. Only by confronting these underlying problems can we ensure the safe return of IDPs. 

The Kampala Convention outlines: “States Parties shall seek lasting solutions to the problem of displacement by promoting and creating satisfactory conditions for voluntary return, local integration or relocation on a sustainable basis and in circumstances of safety and dignity.” Further, it states “States Parties shall enable internally displaced persons to make a free and informed choice on whether to return, integrate locally or relocate by consulting them on these and other options and ensuring their participation in finding sustainable solutions.” Tigrayans who are internally displaced have unequivocally expressed their choice to return and repeatedly called for their government to facilitate this. However, this is not being pursued by the Ethiopian government. The Abiy administration has not facilitated the withdrawal of non-federal and foreign forces from Tigrayan territories–which would allow for the safe return of IDPs. 

Firstly, Amhara forces still occupy Western Tigray, as the zone is illegally under the administration of the Amhara regional government that is conducting ethnic cleansing. In a statement in November 2023, the Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed proposed a referendum to determine the future of Western Tigray, which raises serious concerns for the future of Western Tigray and IDPs ability to return home. Some see this move as an attempt to deflect criticism of his handling of the genocide. Abiy may be attempting to divert attention from these allegations and portray himself as a leader dedicated to peace and democracy. Alternatively, the proposal could be seen as an effort to regain international support. Abiy was previously lauded by the international community for promoting peace and democracy, but his actions over the last several years have severely tarnished his image. By proposing a referendum, he might be aiming to win back the international community’s favour by projecting an image of continued commitment to democratic principles.

However, as I have previously outlined, in reality, his proposal is a thinly veiled attempt to annex the territory to the Amhara region after the area has been cleansed of Tigrayans by Amhara forces, as well as a maneuver aimed at diverting attention from his government’s consistent and widespread human rights abuses. Calling for a referendum after ethnic cleansing and wrongly claiming most Tigrayan IDPs have returned home is ultimately another step in the ethnic cleansing and annexation of historically Tigrayan lands, evident in the  language, religion, and cultural practices. 

Secondly, Eritrea continues to occupy Tigrayan territories with impunity as human rights violations, including sexual violence and enforced disappearances, are daily occurrences. Though the Eritrean government claims their forces are on Eritrean land based on the 2002 Border Commission Decision, per Irob Anina Civil Society, they occupy double the amount of land they were awarded in the decision. Furthermore, ensuring a successful resolution requires moving beyond the 2000 Algiers Agreement and subsequent 2002 Border Commission Decision since Eritrea’s invasion of Tigray as part of its genocidal campaign nullifies the agreement and was a blatant violation of Ethiopia’s sovereignty. As such, neither the Ethiopian government nor the international community should use this agreement as a reference point.

Pursuant to the November 2022 Cessation of Hostilities Agreement between the Ethiopian government and the Tigray People’s Liberation Front, the Ethiopian government has the responsibility of ensuring all non-Ethiopian federal forces withdraw from Tigray. Yet, 16 months since the CoHA, the Ethiopian government has done nothing to ensure the withdrawal of these forces, leaving IDPs unable to return home due to the ongoing occupations.

Protecting Vulnerable Groups in the Wake of Genocide: The Case of Tigray

The ongoing genocide in Tigray has highlighted the critical need for robust measures to protect vulnerable groups, including IDPs. Article 9 of the Kampala Convention recognizes the specific vulnerabilities faced by women, children, and the elderly during displacement. In the context of Tigray, translating these principles into concrete action is paramount to ensure a just and sustainable recovery.

Women in Tigray are particularly exposed to various forms of violence, including sexual assault and gender-based violence. This is ongoing in the lands forcefully occupied by Eritrean and Amhara Forces. Targeted measures are crucial to guarantee their safety and well-being. This could involve establishing safe spaces for women within displacement camps, ensuring access to female healthcare providers, and implementing robust reporting mechanisms for abuse. Children are another highly vulnerable group during displacement. Disrupted education, malnutrition, and psychological trauma are just some of the challenges they face. Ethiopia has an obligation to prioritize access to quality education for displaced children, provide adequate nutrition programs, and offer specialized services to address the psychological impact of genocide. The elderly within IDP camps often face unique challenges. Limited mobility, chronic health conditions, and social isolation can leave them particularly vulnerable. Targeted interventions are needed, such as ensuring accessible sanitation facilities, providing healthcare services catering to their specific needs, and fostering a sense of community within the camps.

Beyond these specific groups, it is crucial to recognize the intersectionality of vulnerabilities. For instance, a displaced elderly woman might face compounded risks of violence and health concerns. A holistic approach that considers the unique needs of each individual is essential.The Ethiopian government has an obligation to not only protect these populations, but the entire community. This requires sustained commitment to ensuring the safety and well-being of all vulnerable IDPs. Independent monitoring mechanisms are also crucial to ensure transparency and accountability.

The genocide on Tigray serves as a stark reminder of the devastating impact of internal displacement on vulnerable populations. Prioritizing their protection and implementing targeted interventions is essential.

Uprooted Yet Unbroken: Education and Livelihoods for Tigray’s IDPs

While IDPs in Tigray wait to be able to return home, their human rights should be upheld by the Ethiopian government. IDPs face a multitude of challenges, with the rights to education and livelihood hanging precariously in the balance. The international legal framework, embodied in the Kampala Convention on the Protection and Assistance of Internally Displaced Persons, provides a powerful roadmap for addressing these issues.

Education is the cornerstone of a brighter future. Disrupted schooling not only hinders academic progress but also disrupts the crucial social and emotional development of children. And this is exactly what’s happening in Tigray. The Convention guarantees IDPs the right to education on equal footing with the host community. In Tigray, where educational institutions have been deliberately targeted and attacked by invading forces, restoring access to education must be a top priority. This entails repairing damaged schools, providing psychosocial support to traumatized students, and ensuring a safe learning environment. Initiatives offering accelerated learning programs can help displaced children bridge the gap in their education.

Livelihoods are equally important for IDPs’ dignity and well-being. Uprooted from their homes and occupations, many struggle to meet basic needs. The Convention encourages support for income-generating activities, empowering IDPs to rebuild their lives. This can take various forms, such as microloans for small businesses, vocational training programs, and facilitating access to markets for locally produced goods.

The Federal government has a responsibility to protect and assist IDPs. It should provide funding, expertise, and logistical support for initiatives addressing education and livelihood needs. Additionally, it is essential to create safe spaces for IDPs to participate in decision-making regarding their education and economic opportunities.  

Rebuilding education and livelihoods in Tigray is more than just reconstruction; it is about fostering resilience and hope. By upholding the principles enshrined in the Convention, the international community can empower IDPs to not only survive but also thrive. Investing in their education equips them with the knowledge and skills to navigate the challenges of displacement and contribute meaningfully to society. Supporting livelihood opportunities fosters self-reliance and a sense of agency, allowing IDPs to regain control of their lives.

Rebuilding Tigray: Addressing Basic Needs and Long-Term Solutions

The genocide on Tigray has caused a severe humanitarian crisis. The region urgently requires solutions that address both immediate basic needs and long-term recovery. The principles enshrined in the Kampala Convention offer a valuable framework for this critical task.

The Convention rightly emphasizes the importance of fulfilling fundamental human needs during conflict. Food insecurity, water scarcity, inadequate shelter, and a lack of access to healthcare have become pervasive issues in Tigray. Unimpeded humanitarian access is paramount for ensuring the delivery of life-saving aid. However, the Ethiopian government has yet to ensure humanitarian access and adequate aid, instead actively hindering the response. Bureaucratic hurdles and security concerns are not addressed to allow aid organizations to reach all affected populations efficiently, while funding for the response remains grossly inadequate.

Addressing immediate needs is only the first step. The Kampala Convention goes beyond emergency relief highlighting the necessity of long-term solutions. Rebuilding Tigray requires a multifaceted approach. Reconstruction efforts are crucial for restoring basic infrastructure like roads, bridges, and communication networks. This will facilitate the movement of people and goods, enabling economic activity to fully resume. Livelihood development is another critical long-term solution. The genocide has disrupted agricultural production and destroyed businesses, leaving many Tigrayans without a source of income. Supporting farmers with seeds, tools, and training will help them get back on their feet. Similarly, providing microloans and vocational training can empower entrepreneurs and create new job opportunities. Psychosocial support is also often-overlooked yet crucial long-term need. The trauma inflicted by the genocide has lasting psychological consequences. Providing counselling and mental health services will be essential for fostering healing and promoting a sense of well-being within the Tigrayan community.

The success of these efforts hinges on the active participation of the Tigrayan people. Locally-driven initiatives and community ownership are vital for ensuring that reconstruction and development projects are sustainable and meet the specific needs of the population. Addressing the crisis in Tigray necessitates a comprehensive approach guided by the principles of the Kampala Convention. From ensuring unhindered access to basic necessities to fostering long-term recovery through infrastructure rebuilding, livelihood development, and psychosocial support, the road to rebuilding Tigray is a long one. However, by prioritizing both immediate needs and long-term solutions, with the active involvement of the affected communities, a brighter future for Tigray can be secured.

Central to the Convention’s principles is also the investigation of human rights abuses. Lack of accountability for atrocities and violent acts fosters resentment and erodes the rule of law. Independent and impartial investigations are crucial for holding perpetrators accountable, deterring future violations, and offering a path towards healing for victims. Justice, accountability, and redress are key to long-term peace and stability.

Conclusion: A Call to Action

The genocide on Tigray demands a unified global response. The Ethiopian government must be held accountable for failing to uphold its obligations under the Kampala Convention. The international community, including the African Union, needs to exert significant pressure to ensure:

1. Unimpeded Humanitarian Access: Life-saving aid must reach all affected populations in Tigray without bureaucratic hurdles or security concerns.
2. Independent Investigations and Accountability: A thorough investigation into human rights abuses is essential to deter future atrocities and offer a path to healing.
3. Addressing Root Causes: The issues of forced occupation and ethnic cleansing  must be addressed to prevent future displacement.
4. Long-Term Solutions: Reconstruction efforts, livelihood development programs, and psychosocial support are crucial for sustainable recovery in Tigray. Prioritizing education opportunities will empower IDPs to contribute to their communities.

The situation in Tigray is a critical test for the international community’s commitment to protecting the rights of IDPs. By working together and applying the principles enshrined in the Kampala Convention, a brighter future for Tigray can be secured. The time for action is now.